#just leave. get out of here. start a new life
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Soooo your post really inspired me and I made a thing. I think this reprise would fit between defying gravity and thank goodness: after Elphie escapes the Emerald City, she can finally stop to ponder everything that happened that crazy day and what led up to it. Hope you like it!
(BTW op's tags were: #and don't get me started on how actually elphie gets basically everything she wished for in that song through glinda #at the oz dust when finally no one thinks she's strange #standing hand in hand in the emerald city)
"Galinda and I"
Did that really just happen?
Have I actually understood?
That odd girl I loathed, who once was a foe
Is now a friend who gave me what I deserved
Helped me make good
So I'll make good
When I met Galinda
She showed me my worth
Once I met Galinda
Changed some views I've held since, since birth
She may not seem to have much wisdom
But by my looks she came un-blinded
Did you think my best friend is dumb?
Or like Munchkins so small-minded? No!
We learned to see the me that I truly am
A girl on whom Oz can rely
And my new life began
Galinda and I
When we were at the Ozdust
My whole life was changed
Cause we danced at the Ozdust
And no one called us strange
Though friends may be quick to leave me
Though I may be abhorred
And the Wizard he decived me
But by Galinda, I'm adored
And these gifts and these powers I have inside
Finally at last I know why
We'll save Oz hand in hand
Galinda and I
I know that you said to me "Elphie dear,
a girl who is so superior,
People don't care about what's inside;
Only see the exterior"
You may be right, though I disagree,
So you stayed back while I flew out free
I hope it's all right by you
I promise we'll make it through
Of course I know that you're you while I'm me
I know that you will get by
Still, think what we could be:
Galinda and I
Yes think what we could be:
Galinda and-
Unlimited...
(And of course I would switch over into the defying gravity refrain of Unlimited here because why try to improve perfection?)
Anyways, it's late in my time zone and I'm going to bed. If anyone wants to add on with more lyrics for the end of "Galinda and I" feel free
thinking about how the best case scenario that elphaba can imagine in the wizard and i is that finally someone will come along who will be able to change everything about her. even in her wildest dreams, she views that as her best option.
and then.
along comes galinda. who - after spending an entire night attempting to give her a makeover - settles on: ‘actually, you’re perfect just the way you are. i wouldn’t change a thing. except maybe to tuck a little piece of myself in with you, just there.’
and i just think that’s neat.
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wreckage - charles leclerc (2/4)
୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a devastating crash, you’re left to face the hardest decisions of your life as charles fights for his.
୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, very... very... emotional ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1448
part one | part two | part three | part four
They say you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. But that doesn’t stop the crushing reality from setting in, from stealing the breath out of your lungs and leaving you with nothing but a pit in your stomach.
The adrenaline’s worn off now. The chaos of the crash—the sound of metal twisting, the screeching tires, the moment when everything went still—has settled into a steady, numbing dread. The pit in your stomach isn’t just from fear, it’s from the void where your thoughts should be. You don’t know what’s coming next. You’re not even sure if you’re prepared for it.
Charles isn’t here.
Charles isn’t in the room with you.
You glance at your phone again, eyes scanning for any update, any piece of news that tells you he’s okay. There’s nothing. Just the same cold silence. You dial his team again, and again, and again. But no one answers. His car was mangled—wrecked beyond recognition, but the worst part? The worst part is that no one can give you any real answers. No one can tell you if he’ll come back to you, or if that’s a question you should stop asking.
You feel like you're caught in a never-ending loop, the crash replaying over and over in your mind. Every time you hear his name on the news, every time you see another mention of the race, it stabs you like a fresh wound.
“Is there any word?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, though you’ve asked the question a hundred times already.
One of the nurses glances at you, but it’s not the answer you need. They’re all running on autopilot, no one daring to face the gravity of what’s happening.
A few hours later, you get the call. It’s brief, clinical, distant. They’re transferring him to the hospital for further tests, and you need to come now. You don’t even bother with a response. You just grab your coat, your purse, and run.
When you get to the hospital, you’re not prepared for what you’re about to see. You’ve spent all this time worrying about him, and now that you’re here, you don’t know how to be ready for the reality.
They rush you through sterile hallways, and the air feels thick, suffocating. The nurses are too quiet, too busy to offer reassurance. You don’t need their words. You need him.
The surgery’s been a blur. A series of technical terms, each more frightening than the last. Internal injuries. Organ failure. The adrenaline that was keeping him stable starts to wear off. Everything’s urgent, but no one tells you what’s going to happen. No one tells you that he might not make it through.
His mother arrives as you’re sitting in the waiting area, your fingers anxiously twisting the hem of your sleeve. She doesn’t need to say anything. You can see it in her eyes. She’s feeling the same crushing weight of uncertainty that you are. You stand, not knowing what to say, not knowing if there’s anything to say.
“How is he?” she asks, her voice cracking before the words are even out.
“They’re still working on him,” you answer, though you don’t know much. You don’t know anything. “They said it’s critical. I... I don’t know if he’s going to make it through.”
Her face falls, and she takes a deep breath. You want to say something, anything to reassure her, but you can’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore. The fear inside of you keeps growing, pressing against your ribs like a weight you can’t lift.
The door to the surgery room opens, and the doctor steps out. His face is pale, his expression tight.
“Is he...?” you ask, your voice trembling before the question even forms. You can’t bring yourself to finish it.
“He’s stable for now, but his condition is still critical,” the doctor explains. “We’re doing everything we can, but the next few hours are going to be crucial. The adrenaline kept his body from fully going into shock. It’s buying us time, but there’s a chance that time won’t be enough.”
You feel the ground slip away beneath you as his words sink in. “What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?”
“We’ll know more in a few hours, but we’re monitoring his organs. There’s significant internal damage.” He pauses, searching for something to say. Something comforting. “He’s a fighter. We’ll keep doing everything we can.”
You nod, though the words don’t mean anything to you. Fighters don’t always win. You know that. The only thing you can do is wait. But it feels like the waiting is the hardest part.
His mother looks at you, her eyes pleading, her lips trembling. “What do we do now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
You’re not prepared to make these decisions. You’re his wife, but you never thought you’d be here, making these life-or-death calls. This isn’t supposed to be your responsibility. You want to ask his mother what to do, but you can’t. She doesn’t have the answers. She’s just as lost as you are.
“I don’t know,” you whisper back, feeling the weight of it all settling on your shoulders.
She looks at you with a deep sadness in her eyes. “You’re his wife. It’s your decision now.”
Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You’re supposed to know. You’re supposed to know what he’d want, what the right choice is. But you don’t. How can you possibly know what to do when everything feels so out of control?
You want to run, want to disappear, but you can’t. Charles is still fighting. He’s still here, and that’s all you have. You can’t walk away from that.
As the hours drag on, you’re taken to see him. The room is sterile, cold. It’s not the hospital room you imagined. It’s nothing like that. It’s a place of quiet chaos, where everything hangs in the balance.
Charles is unconscious, tubes and wires running everywhere. His skin is pale, his face bruised. The doctors said he was conscious for a moment, but he’s out again, too weak to keep his eyes open.
You sit by his side, taking his hand gently, trying to feel his warmth through the coldness of the hospital room. You whisper his name, but there’s no response.
“He’s in there,” you tell yourself. You have to believe that. You can’t let go. Not yet.
Minutes pass, and still, nothing. His pulse steady on the monitor, but that’s the only sign that he’s still here. The rest of it is just a waiting game. You’ve been here before, waiting for someone you love to wake up, to come back to you, but it’s never been like this.
It’s never been this uncertain, this terrifying.
Charles is still here, but you know that might not be the case for long. The waiting is unbearable. Every beep of the heart monitor is both a reminder that he’s still alive and a warning that it could change at any moment.
As the nurse enters to check on him, you hold his hand tighter, unwilling to let go, unwilling to believe that this could be it.
“How long?” you ask her, barely able to look at the machines, not sure you want to know.
“It’s hard to say,” she replies softly. “He’s stable, but his condition is still critical. If we don’t see improvement soon, we might need to make... more decisions.”
That word. Decisions. What decisions? You’re left with nothing but the silence, the uncertainty. The questions. The waiting.
As the hours stretch on, and the doctor makes his rounds again, you finally hear the words you’ve been dreading. “There’s no improvement. We might need to consider...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but you hear what he means. The fear inside you rises, a growing lump in your throat. The worst-case scenario is beginning to feel more real with each passing second.
Everything is slipping away, and you don’t know how to hold on.
You sit in the chair, staring at Charles, your mind racing with fear and doubt. You want to hope, you want to pray, but it feels like hope is a fragile thing, easily crushed by the weight of reality. The fight’s not over yet, but you’re starting to wonder if it ever will be.
“I’m here,” you whisper again, to him, to yourself. “I’m not going anywhere.”
But somewhere deep inside, you know. You know that the decision you’re dreading might be just around the corner, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , comment to be added
© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc cute#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x yn#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 instagram au#fanfiction#formula one#𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies
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Chiaroscuro
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dr Ratio x [ Gender Neutral ] Reader
Synopsis: There is a wilted daffodil resting between the pages of Ratio's memories. Tags: POV Dr. Ratio, Fluff and Humor and Angst, Hurt/Comfort (?), Slow-burn (oh my), Right Person Wrong Time (oh dear), Strangers to Friends, Reader is Older than Ratio, We speak in the Language of Flowers here, Literary References and Allusions, Exploration of Academic Struggles, Jealous!Ratio, Exploration of Grief, Slight Yandere!Dr Ratio, My Interpretations of Ratio's Past and Ideologies (because hyv won't tell me), Brief Aventurine Appearance TW(s): Toxic Relationships, Toxic Family Dynamics, Implications of Physical Abuse (not condoned by Ratio) Author's Note: At long last, my ‘thesis’ on Dr. Ratio is finished :') I've been working on this fic since June 2024 and finally gathered enough willpower to push through the rest of it. I started this fic with the sole goal of torturing Ratio but ended up falling in love with him halfway through this fic- as such the direction may have shifted orz Please forgive any unintentional errors and get cozy <3
「 Word Count : 11k 」 「 Artwork Credits 」 「 Read On AO3 」
i. Panorama.
They say, the best years of a human's life are spent before boards painted with chalk scribbles and around those of one's ages, filled with careless laughter and weaving hopes for the distant future.
Veritas Ratio has always disagreed with this belief and backed his own with a multitude of reasoning. For one, those so crowned ‘best years’ are not to be wasted through wishing your fantasies would come to fruition on their own. Secondly, his experiences run contrary to the images illustrated by the majority of the population. Which, fall as it might within the grounds of personal grudge, has enough weight to not be disregarded entirely, he'd argue if necessary.
If confronted on his bitter feelings regarding the schooling years of a person's life, there is a possibility that the erudite Doctor will falter and then incoherently mutter something about it not being a downright horrifying experience.
The chances of receiving further clarification from that point decreases significantly and will be entirely dependent on Ratio's mood, which, isn't perceived to be the most agreeable on most days.
In the rare case that luck shines upon the inquirer and Veritas Ratio's stern edges soften with nostalgia, there will be but one name that'll leave his lips in an uncharacteristically somber cadence.
If certain events had transpired differently, the recollections of that day would've been far sweeter than it is now — but still, the parasite known as nostalgia begs to alter his memories. It attempts to soothe the cuts gained from reaching towards aspirations far beyond his capabilities with cursory glances from the sun, and daisy petals hidden in the crevices of dusty tomes.
In the days Veritas Ratio treaded in an environment where nearly everything was twice his height, carrying expectations no one would bother to understand, he'd pledged to himself to not fold before irrational demands just because he wasn't a sight one would normally see in an institution full of burgeoning adults.
He was no stranger to the attention his genius brought, far more so the unwanted part of it.
Which was why he'd stubbornly made his goals clear to his titular peers within the first week of his attendance, much to their bewilderment.
Any suggestions for free ‘assignment completion service’ was shut down curtly and neither did the prodigious new student bother to partake in other youthful activities — but surprisingly, Veritas's distant countenance hadn't succeeded in putting a dent to his overall popularity.
Perhaps that is the reason the requests for private tutoring sessions and borrowing of notes never did cease, because despite his attitude, no one could deny his intelligence. And that, ultimately became his label in that university. Consequently, no one went out of their way to seek him out unless it concerned academics — except one person.
Ratio thinks he might've been witnessing a meteor streak the night sky instead, because relatively speaking, he couldn't trace where you appeared from with just his bare eyes.
(Though now that he thinks again, it might've been because he'd not bothered to look beyond the white board of the lecture halls, haughty as he'd been.)
—And as momentary as said event, you'd stunned him with an inquiry that did not match any of the others that'd preceded your kind.
“Why are you all alone during lunch, little boy? Whoa, you're studying even now?”
He’d barely missed the astonished gleam in your eyes when he parted from marking an important section from his book in a flinch. The unacquainted sight beside his desk had put the functions of his brain at a temporary standstill, before resuming with a barrage of questions as you observed him rather amusedly.
The small smile that appeared on your face next halted any of those inquiries from gaining voice as Veritas's reflexes worked to catch the objects tossed his way.
“Take these for now. Skipping meals isn't good for you, you know? You can't achieve your dreams if you don't take care of your health first.”
Veritas blinked owlishly at the apple and sandwich now resting on his lap, the words of advice you stated in a rather sing-song tone barely registering in his head as he vacillated between demanding your identity and scoffing at your audacity.
Much to his chagrin, you evaded his burning stare and waltzed out of the vacant lecture hall before he could even open his parched mouth, again.
(What he recalls first before this peculiar interaction now is how the usually mundane sunlight had embraced your form that day.)
He only saw more and more of you from then onwards, much to his initial displeasure. For some mysterious reason, you'd made it your hobby to nag at and subtly coddle him in ways that made any other passing student raise eyebrows.
Whether it be dragging him to places and sometimes forcing him to eat lunch or separating him from his beloved books to 'refresh his mind' at some other corner of the campus, you never faltered ; despite all the scowls and passive aggressive quips he sneaked in.
Only after some research did Veritas discover you to be one among the seniors and, he'd admit it somewhat begrudgingly, you were a senior in every sense of the word.
Although, that knowledge did not aid him in answering the most begging question: why were you going out of your way to guide him through the perilous terrains of university? He'd initially suspected you to demand recompense in the same ways the others coveted.
Perhaps you were an expert manipulator, struggling to wrap up your last year in the institute and as a result, decided to prey on the genius through teasing words and coddling.
Ratio was fully prepared to face you when you showed your true face — except, his hypothesis ended in utter failure as that expected unravelling never came.
So, on another of your usual kidnappings meetings under the old oak tree at the far end of the campus, Veritas decided to soothe the scorching paranoia in his head.
“It’s because you remind me of my little siblings! It's been such a long time since I've seen them and I just really miss them, you know?”
He doesn't know. Neither the sentiments that are apparently driving you to take care of him nor whether you're being sincere.
Here's the most annoying thing about you: despite how much of a genius Veritas is crowned to be, he's experienced repeated failures in deducing what lies beneath that benign smile of yours.
At least there are formulas and theories to explain or, get closer to the enigmas of the universe. But whatever and whoever moulded you into your present state had clearly forgotten to leave a loophole behind for curious minds like his to decipher.
“Besides, I understand how you must be feeling in this environment where everyone is half a decade older than you — even though you like to act tough. I know that there's a seed of loneliness that's ready to burst into a giant tree with the right incentive and you're just holding onto the last of your sanity to not let that happen.”
Ratio's fingers halt midway through flipping to a different page of his book. Your observation silences him long enough to make the rustles of leaves permeate the atmosphere, before he forces his brows to furrow and his lips to quirk down.
“It’s rude to make assumptions about someone you barely know.”
The purple head watched as you leaned against the palm of your hand, as though the sneer on his face was nothing worth fretting.
“Aww, did I catch little Veri off guard? No need to be in such denial, I saw you gape like an owl at my words. But owls are my favorite bird, don't worry!” The hostile expression on his face morphs into surprise as you ruffle his hair with your free hand with more enthusiasm than required.
“Rest assured, I'll take care of you for as long as I'm here, little Veri.”
“I’d appreciate it more if you don’t.”
That earned him a laugh and messier hair.
ii. Anamorphosis
Little Veri.
If there was something he despised more than the shrill voices of his classmates, it'd be that nickname. You might've been accurate in your choice of words in a literal sense, but for the first time, honesty had bruised his ego.
The prodigy was not accustomed to being treated his age, he was always commended as ‘mature’ and being ‘beyond his years’. Yet you had never even bothered mentioning this and instead, always poked at the suppressed child that slumbered at the deepest corner of his heart.
What he loathed even more was how every repeat of that ridiculous nickname actually made him feel quote-on-quote ‘little’. No, how you allowed a leeway for that teenage heart to peek through from under a canopy of knowledge and caution.
Intentionally or not, you carved a shelter for that little boy to crawl beneath in moments that no one would care to glance at.
It was a matter of great shame although, while his teachers had handed him the basics to deciphering the laws of the universe, no one had bothered to teach him how to respond to such kindness.
Upon further digging, the genius was surprised to find that your merit resided in the top five of your entire year. While he hadn't taken you for a dimwit (he'd rather eat dirt than utter such sacrilege) his astonishment stemmed from the fact that he'd never seen an academic material accompanying you on campus.
He’d even thought your sole task was to bother him with your half-a-decade years old wisdom upon a particular session of agitation. But after clarity grasped his mind, he realized that his suspicions were simply baseless in an institution as competitive as Veritas Prime.
Instead of journals and papers concerning your major, Veritas often saw you seeking refuge in musings soaked in fantasy and your rationale behind such escapades puzzled the mind of his younger self greatly.
“And then the male lead gave a bouquet of bluebells to the female lead, declaring his feelings! Isn't that so romantic?”
Ratio scrutinized your form hunched over from giddiness derived from materials that appeared alien to his eyes, stacks of textbooks wept at the corner of the table in abandonment.
“Bluebells? I thought people gave roses for matters like this?” sunset orange eyes swept over the incredulity blooming on your visage.
You sighed as though he was the most exasperating person you had the misfortune of dealing with, “It’s because bluebells are the symbol of eternal and undying love. Roses are undoubtedly lovely but as you said, if anyone was to give roses to someone, everyone and their grandmas would have an inkling about what is happening between them! Giving someone a bouquet of bluebells on the other hand, is far more secretive and exciting.”
“I don't really understand but alright.”
Ratio almost drops his pen at the flick to his forehead, “So unromantic! You're never getting a girlfriend if you continue being like this, kid!”
His free hand whips up to shield his skin against further damage, he feels the muscles of his temple twitch in profound irritation. “I don't need—”
“Yes yes, you're too preoccupied with the pursuit of knowledge to bother with fickle things like romance blah blah blah.” Ratio's eye roll almost synchronizes with yours.
Veritas knows and he isn't ashamed to admit that he's not a romantic person. The path he walks on has no necessity for abstruse emotional attachment and sentimentalities.
On the contrary, what he abstained from seemed to be the centrepiece of your interest.
Your eyelashes flutter as you rest your elbows on the table, eyes searching for a trace of your wishes among the litany of bookshelves, “But if anyone was to confess to me, I'd want them to give me a bouquet of bluebells instead of trying to articulate their feelings.”
Ratio raised a brow as your sigh echoed throughout the grand library, “And how, pray tell, would they know of your preference?”
“That’s the thing, little Veri!” you snapped your fingers as though you'd solved the greatest dilemma plaguing mankind, “I wouldn't talk about these fantasies to just anyone. If someone was to give me a bouquet of bluebells, it'd mean that we're close enough to know these secrets and then there'd be a high chance that the feelings are mutual. No awkward moments, we'd know what we are without even speaking!”
The purple head observed as you rambled, the light from the sinking afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass shone on you. A scoff escaped him before he could stomp it down, his arms crossed almost derisively.
“And is that your sole ambition in life?”
“Of course not,” your reply was brisk and simple, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You met Ratio's perplexed gaze with an unusual calm, “If by ambition, you mean what I want to do after all this studying, well — I want to be a teacher.”
Veritas couldn't hold back the surprise from soaking his words this time, “A teacher? Why?”
But you seemed to find great entertainment in his reaction, if your twinkling eyes was anything to go by and the genius isn't even taken aback this time; your sources of amusement would never be the guesswork of anyone.
Your shoulders shifted as you shrugged, “Why not? Teaching is one of the most noble professions out there, but it warrants great caution and wisdom. Hmm, come to think of it— what do you want to be, Veri?”
Ratio nearly flinched as you expertly shifted the attention to him, glossing over it with a fake cough. “I…” his throat constricted as you leaned in ever so slightly, “—don’t know.”
“Whaaaat?” you backed away just as quickly, dragging the syllables of that word to emphasize your disappointment. “Tsk tsk, so you're just studying blindly without any clear goal? That isn't going to get you far, regardless of how intelligent you are.”
He knows that, but what is he supposed to do if his mind blanks when he tries to envision himself in any conventional field? In fact, he considers it as one of the flaws of the educational system. How a student is always urged to find their place in the grand scheme of matters but never guided through them ; or, at least, given clear pointers.
It'd also be careless to label Veritas completely clueless about his situation. What he does cradle, or was compelled to bear was not borne of his personal wishes. But with time, his mind accepted it as his own, though a part of his heart always ached with emptiness.
You cleared your throat upon noticing that a great conflict had rendered the genius speechless, “Well... as for the reason as to why I want to be a teacher, it's because I want to help those students who struggle to find their way in this vast world. Regardless of where they rank in the merit position or what ‘status’ society has assigned them. Granted, this struggle may continue even after someone has graduated and while I may not be able to help every single person, I still want to try my best. After all, that should be the goal of our educational system — in my opinion, at least!”
You chuckled somewhat bashfully afterwards, remnants of it settled on the way your lips curled. There was something so succinct yet undoubtedly natural about that smile, like petrichor and he felt a pang of regret hitting his ribcage for not noticing it before.
Although it might not appeal to some, to many it brought solace even before the sun could sweep aside the canopies of darkened clouds.
Something that's appearance was preceded only by the tears of the skies, it stunned the mind that such beauty could be unearthed from a phenomenon so seemingly insignificant.
And that realization appalled the young scholar.
iii. Tenebrism
Ratio did not comprehend the value of your presence until he was deprived of it.
Due to certain circumstances, the genius had learned to be contingent with the fact that he'd have to navigate the majority of his life all by himself. Of course, ignoring simpletons and self-centered personnel came easy to him as well.
What the scholar wasn't conscious of, or was too prideful to acknowledge was the harrowing vacancy in some obscure corner of his heart that yearned for a deeper connection. It would take little effort for him to rationalize this longing with his age and return his attention to far more pressing concerns.
But it seemed that the more he tried to silence the wails of his feelings, the more cacophonous they became.
You'd spoiled Veritas a good amount, with your willing enthusiasm to tail after him whenever you had the reprieve.
So, when you abruptly stopped your usual pursuit in exchange of accompanying another person whose face he couldn't bother to remember, the young scholar was left to deal with a surge of emotions he had little control over.
Said emotions, were tame enough to be kept under check within the first few weeks as he learnt that the purpose of this sudden acquaintance had been for the completion of a group project.
Where the scholar's composure did start to falter was when you maintained your distance from him even after the fulfilment of said project.
And Ratio despised the sparks of resentment that'd flare up in his chest each time you'd pass him by while chatting so deliriously with that no-name stranger.
He was thrown in a limbo the first time he witnessed someone else in the position that he held and although he stubbornly convinced his mind that it was for the best ; each time the scene would replay in the corridors and crevices of the university, Veritas could see yellow hyacinths bloom in his peripheral.
He's certain now that he must've been losing his mind, or at least was on the verge of (and for such a childish cause at that) because he took shelter in a superstitious practice and ignored as many meals as he could in the futile hope that you'd come back and reprimand him again.
Ratio would have applauded you if he hadn't been so consumed by all those unsavory chemical reactions in his mind.
It didn't help his case that the first time he'd bothered to take in the environment, he was reminded of the fact that, you had others who'd accept you, but he only had you.
His frustration must've reached a new peak, because not even the most persistent of his irritable classmates were brave enough to approach him as he continued to brood hopelessly.
It wouldn't be long until he would gather the motivation to finally propel himself out of that dark space, but the method his younger self employed to do so, embarrasses the present him to no end.
“They did what?”
Veritas needn't open his eyes to picture your visage colored in shock, he opted instead to maintain his somber facade, arms folded, and brows furrowed to complete the act.
“But I never thought them to be that kind of person, quite the opposite, in fact.” followed your reluctant admission.
Ratio outstretched his palm as though enticing you to accept the news, “One can deduce so much about the ocean by gazing at its surface. The facts are before you, with substantial evidence. Whether you believe them or not depends entirely on you. I only thought I should inform you before it reaches the Principal, that is.”
He could envision your eyes oscillating between his firm countenance and the unseen prospects proposed by his words. Discreetly, he peered at your fidgeting and unconsciously held his breath.
He'd done the calculations before approaching you, the worry oozing from your gaze confirms that you've heard word of it from his ‘associates’ already and the fact that you didn't try to defend the person further tells him you've done some digging through the news portals of the university yourself.
Step by step, you've unknowingly assisted in concluding this problem.
The young scholar silences the quivers of his conscience before they can rage and foil all progress. As for this friend of yours, there were embers left behind from misdeeds of long ago. He merely reignited that flame so that those crimes would face proper punishment — although which was not his principal goal. To make sure you don't get caught in the inferno was, or at least, that's what he tells his conscience.
A half-resigned hum from you saves the scholar from spiralling, “I’ll believe you and will avoid them for the time being. Though I have my own theories, you have a point. There is no telling what is beneath a person's exterior.”
Veritas simply nods to that conclusion.
Your eyelashes flutter as you drift into a brief reverie, before fixating on his rigid person. “Ah, but what is going on with you, kiddo? You've been skipping meals again, haven't you?”
The young scholar blinks in stupefaction at the shrunken proximity between you two, the single finger beneath his chin with which you scrutinize his visage nearly burns his skin. He can hardly process what observation you're making through the dizzying fragrance of jasmines.
“I am in perfect health, as you can see—”
“For so long! It's only a matter of when that you'll faint while calculating nonsense.” you sharply interject and withdraw the searing contact. Strangely, Ratio makes no face this time.
“Come to think of it, it's been a while since we've had lunch together. Oh, I have so much to share with you! Let's not waste anymore time, let's go!”
There is good cause for why the wise warn against temptations. Bit by bit, piece by piece, oh so painfully obstinate — you fed him that poison, rendering his sharp mind a mess of inebriating chemical reactions.
You were none the wiser to the impact your fickle gestures made on him and soon, Ratio's biggest weakness, curiosity silenced the prodding of his conscience.
He gained little incentive to step far away from the leering shadows, as the brilliance of the sun made it so his fixation wouldn't stray towards the darkness.
iv. Tachisme
“Suffering is part and parcel of extensive intelligence and a feeling heart. A man who is really great, it seems to me, must suffer considerably here below.”
Your sigh weighs down on the silence of the university's library, a dull thud causing a crack on it as you set down the tome on the dark wooden table.
“I couldn't help but think of you while reading this novel.” bright orange eyes watch the way you cushion your cheek against your knuckles minutely.
“Suffering, misery, sadness, whatever you name it is inconsequential to any human being. But I feel like, those who are labelled as being ‘different’ than the majority experience a certain kind of those challenges. The ones that are weighty on the tongue when they attempt to express it, perhaps inscrutable to even themselves.” Ratio mulls over your musings, briefly closing his eyes.
“Everyone’s experiences are bound to be different.” comes his easy response.
The furrow in your brows suggests the conflict his words stirred instead of assurance, “You take everything so coolly, but I can't help but worry for you. You may be calm and certain about everything now but there's no guarantee you'll always be this way. On top of it all, you reject close relationships, thus narrowing your options to lean on someone should a sizable problem come.”
Ratio catches himself before his eyes can roll sideways, “Surely you didn't drag me out of a lecture just to nag me again?” his subconscious notes the reduced exasperation that prospect stirs within himself.
You often worry for a future that has yet to seize anyone. While the young scholar commends your far-sightedness, he really cannot understand the use of losing one's mind over events that haven't happened yet.
Thinking ahead is helpful, turning that habit into an obsessive frenzy is not.
He observes the way your frown expands, deepens and ultimately loosens up with a sigh. You refrain from broaching the topic further, another quality he appreciates.
Though you don't make an attempt to defend yourself, you refuse to voice out anything else as well, settling your eyes to a distant point in existence.
For once Veritas is ruffled by the silence, so he makes an attempt to change the subject — because counting your eyelashes isn't the most productive thing for a scholar to do.
“It’s not everyday I see you carrying something that doesn't have hearts and glitters on the cover page.” his eyes settle pointedly on the book before you.
You scoff, “One does not survive in Veritas Prime simply from reading light novels.” there's a trace of pride in your admission.
“Oh? So, what does ‘one’ do to maintain their spot in the top five?” Ratio quirks a brow, holding your gaze.
The witty response he anticipates gets replaced by another sigh, puzzling him for an instance, “I’m assuming this is about me never studying within campus. Well, I just like keeping my study space and my socializing space separate. Listening to lectures here and doing the heavy lifting in my room. It's what works for me, in any case.”
There's genuine interest in his next questions, “And what do you do when you get bored while studying? Or when you feel like you can't concentrate anymore?”
You twirl a stray lock of your hair, cheek still resting on your knuckles, “Take a bath to sober myself up, I guess. When your mind is full of garbage, your body will likely not be the cleanest either.”
You shrug, your nonchalant attitude renders his mind to a blank slate. For a while he does nothing but think about your words, though the response he gives matches none of the context.
“I feel like there is so much I don't know about you.”
It's your turn to be surprised, but unfortunately for Ratio, the sight is still too brisk. You break into a fit of laughter, wiggling your brows as though you know something.
“Silly little Veri, let me tell you something. People are like icebergs! We can only see their tips with our bare eyes but to know them in their full capacity, we have to dive down.”
“But the waters are cold.” the young scholar pushes.
Your giggles soften to a smile, “That’s exactly the point.” and you refuse to elaborate further, again.
To reach the heart of the iceberg, one must push through the freezing depths of the ocean. Whether Veritas Ratio has that willpower, is a question left for his future self.
v. Sotto in su
As the days lapsed, more and more memories anchored themselves in Ratio's mind. They brought with them a different seed of emotion, every exchange with his enigmatic senior nurtured and coaxed it to sprout tender leaves.
Before his syllabus could be replaced, the fact had been known to everyone regardless of their relation to the prodigy. If your recurring appearances in Ratio's life and his noticeable tolerance for your presence was anything to go by, it was apparent to anyone with a conscious mind that his opinion of you was at a level above everyone else's.
Exchanges between different years wasn't an uncommon phenomenon, but a friendship with the notoriously detached prodigy was an understandable bewilderment. Though, the students at Veritas Prime quickly learned to use it to their advantage rather than criticizing it — a unanimous realization that Ratio was just a bit more agreeable in your presence.
Not that Ratio was unaware of their schemes, the fact that they construed that he'd tolerate them solely because of your connection further cemented his belief that all these wannabe researchers were still light-years away from the truth they speak to seek.
Albeit, after noticing that he'd been more approachable for students who genuinely wanted to learn rather than to fulfill some pecuniary purpose — he begrudgingly admitted that, there was an influence taking place.
Veritas swiftly ignored the rumors. While not one to waste his time, being with you brought along perspectives that challenged his thinking style. To him, truth has always been beautiful because it will not change, even through the failures in understanding it.
But you're a human being, change is rooted in your constitution.
The cycle of erosion and accretion that makes you you hinders even a brilliant scholar like him in grasping the characteristics of your soul. This form of beauty he was not acquainted with before, admittedly.
Relying too much on either rigidity or malleability will pose problems. It is through the search of a balance can we discover the answers.
It may not be obvious at first glance, but you aspire to guide others through the murky depths of ignorance while pondering this apparent equilibrium — since neither extremes can be eliminated. As strange as that selflessness initially appeared to him, Ratio has developed a sense of respect for your ambitions.
Unfortunately, or fortunately for him, it seemed as though you knew exactly what was transpiring.
In fact, you were conscious of a lot of things ; it's just that you preferred to pretend that you didn't for reasons that he hasn't comprehended yet.
For the longest time he interpreted that thoughtful sparkle in your eyes as just another play of light. Whenever his reactions to your teasing would come off as more animated than last and the flush that he'd try so hard to not let extend to his cheeks do just that — you'd have that nearly imperceptible realization reflected in your eyes. It scratched at the parchedness Ratio hadn't even recognized to be there.
His fear was confirmed to be true one afternoon in a vacant lecture hall, though not through words.
“Is this for me?” sunset orange eyes shone against the shadows that fell on his back.
“Well, do you see anyone else here?” your huff and his eyeroll synchronize.
You patiently held the book covered in elaborate illustrations of flowers for his taking, though what captured the scholar's attention most was the single yellow bloom tied atop with a violet ribbon on the book. He recognized the book to be a copy of the floriography manual he often saw tucked between your collections.
“You’re probably wondering ‘what value will this book bring to you’. Well, as I've said before, studious scholars should never limit their perspectives.” you almost shove the gift into his hands in response to his stunned countenance.
“And,” an accidental brush of your fingers against his hand sends an unwanted shudder through his arteries, “Happy birthday, little Veri.”
You withdraw just as quickly, the hues of the setting sun softening the smile on your face.
Ratio forces himself to look elsewhere, "You're still going to use that ridiculous nickname, huh? What a way to welcome me into adulthood." he mutters, the words leaving a bitter aftertaste that he tries to mask with sarcasm.
He feels your chuckle probing at his heart, taunting the quickened pace in which it revolts against its cage. You shift your gaze to the golden petals resting atop the book, a somber sigh tumbling from your lips.
“— Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon ;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not yet attained his noon.”
Many see fit to celebrate their first step into adulthood with enthusiastic celebrations, Ratio's eighteenth birthday brought with it a clinging bittersweetness — not that he allowed himself to dwell on it for long, his future plans taking precedence over sentiments.
The lone daffodil had been tucked between a random section of the book you gifted, hidden away from his sight. The border between cowardice and courage was thin, nearly translucent in the manner the result dictated what it would turn out to be.
The journey of uncovering the mysteries of the universe is a similar pursuit. Emerge victorious and you'll be brave, fail and you'll be heralded foolish. Ratio was far from a coward or a foolish man, sometimes not going head-fast into uncertain territories is the mark of intelligence.
He allowed the daffodil to wilt and turned not a page, for he knew in some deep crevice of his subconscious that it'd blight the clarity of his mind with another flood of emotions he did not have the capacity to process.
Luckily, his agony met a premature end as you departed from Veritas Prime by the end of the year with a certificate in hand.
Who knows how many sleepless nights and crushed dreams paved the path for the ink lines on that single piece of parchment. Ratio had been there as the first to congratulate you, it was the least he could do.
He did not proceed farther than that, as you'd made it clear that there would forever be a line he would be unable to trespass.
Ratio was fully aware of the limitations the silly crush that accumulated over the time in your acquaintance brought and he expressed no interest in pushing those boundaries either.
He found solace in the fact that he'd met you at all. He wouldn't say you illuminated his life, for even you always believed it was the individual themselves who possessed that power.
You nudged him towards the path to find his light and that lesson, he wanted to honor all his life.
The memories of your time would stay treasured in his mind and the curve of your smile would be preserved in marble. Without the echo that his ears yearned to capture, he saw fit to isolate his senses from unnecessary stimulation.
Though you'd never grace the corridors of Veritas Prime again, the footprints of your presence etched deep in the genius's memories would never fade.
vi. Trompe l'oeil
His next encounter with you was a tad unexpected, just at the horizon of Ratio putting the full stop to his years at the university.
Veritas’s fingers slackened around the handle of his umbrella, a page or two of the manuscript of his thesis slipping past his grip and drifting along the roaring wind — but his eyes couldn't chase after them. Much too fixated on the way your shoulder bumped with theirs, not at all by accident.
The rain soon cloaked your figures from his spying gaze, the droplets soaking the ends of his clothes failed still to snatch his attention away. In spite of the thunderous cries of the sky, the echo of your laugh was all he could hear.
—
Time never ceased its relentless march; life followed its direction and events moulded more memories.
For the sake of productivity, he had no choice but to push back his curiosity and stay away from your life. His studies and workload helped generously in keeping his mind from wandering to frightful territories at inconvenient instances, though a certain spark nestled deep somewhere in his subconscious.
Before long, his name resounded far beyond the gates of Veritas Prime.
Veritas Ratio, now Dr. Ratio, felt his nerves flare again as he looked at the latest discussions on the university’s online forum, the words “Dr. Ratio Will Surely Snag A Place At The Genius Society, Won’t He?” in bold only tickled his annoyance further.
Ordinarily, he would stay as far away as possible from discussions concerning himself — which was easier said than done.
Aggrandizing anything always leads to disappointment. Ratio's surroundings loved to goad his path, but he knew, such chatter would morph to whispers the moment their expectations were proven false.
Dr. Ratio’s brooding came to a halt at the collision, his reflexes acted and he clasped onto the stranger’s arm before they could fall. He heard leaves crunching under his boots, strangers threw cursory glances at the near-accident.
His lips parted in what a spectator could assume to be the beginning of an apology, but paused upon noticing the words resignation letter on the paper in the stranger's grasp.
Orange eyes flickered, trailing upward, within the fabric of scarlet you burrowed deep in search of comfort from the scare.
You mimicked his earlier attempt, craning your neck for a second to meet his gaze and halting in recognition.
“Veritas… Ratio?”
The addressed scholar blinks, blurting out before he could think, “That’s not what you used to call me.”
There's a scintilla of surprise in your eyes at his unintentional jest, he anticipates a laugh next, but only an awkward quirk of your lips greets him.
Your eyes dart around your environment, before returning to his grasp. Feeling the weight of your stare, he releases his hold with a fake cough.
“I… apologize.” his hand found refuge on the nape of his neck.
“It’s okay, accidents... happen, you know.” you wave him off with your free hand.
A breeze passes through the gap between you two.
It might've just been Ratio’s misjudgement, but he felt as if you were about to run away for a millisecond. Your fingers tightened around the paper in your hold, you gathered yourself with a deep inhale.
“Congratulations on obtaining your fourth doctorate degree! I often discuss your papers in my classes, you are an inspiration to so many people.”
A flicker of sunlight filtered through the leaves above fell and there appeared that smile he knew. Years had gone by, yet the mystery in it remained still out of his reach.
“Thank you,” he tilted his head downward, “I’m glad to hear that you pursued your dream.”
Ratio sneaked a glance, your nod faded into silence. His gaze lingered on your face, the concentrated flush on your right cheek made his brows furrow.
He was no fool to the tension in the air and your unusual fidgety demeanor. He briefly contemplated if he should just depart.
However, he couldn't deny the fact that questions had accumulated throughout the interval of your absence from his life. The differences between the you before him and the you from his memories begged him to probe, to study and learn.
He felt himself drawn to the paper in your hand again, a glint on your ring finger caught his eye. Among the myriad of inquiries battling to escape his lips, the one that’d warred the longest emerged victorious.
“Did they…” he began, uncertain.
“Give you a bouquet of bluebells?”
Your flighty gaze froze to confusion for a moment as you tried to decode his words, Ratio mirrored your gaze as you failed to answer. You quickly blinked away any hints of shock, a forceful bite stopped the trembling of your lips.
(He felt a twist somewhere in his heart.)
“Can we… talk somewhere else?” you suggested. Despite it being the middle of autumn, there's a storm brewing in your eyes.
—
Veritas could see splinters on the cup in his grip, the dark beverage within threatening to spill.
A passing waitress threw the table a concerned glance, but could not find the courage to intervene. The sight of your antsy wringing of hands in his peripheral alerted him to breathe. He loosened his grip on the poor cup of coffee just in time, a burdened exhale following suit.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, “So, what do you intend to do now?”
You fiddled with the band on your ring finger ; within the vacancy of the cafe, to Ratio, it felt as if even such an insignificant gesture gained voice.
The insistence of your silence prompted him to continue, “The culmination of your hard-work, one that stole almost all of your life ; all of those sleepless nights, unsaid sacrifices for the sole wish of helping others — all of it, you're going to let go, just like that? Just because an idiot claims they know better?”
Dr. Ratio could not understand, no matter which angle he looked at it from. The answer to your dilemma was crystal clear to the scholar, he’d be willing to bet it’d be clear to anyone with a functioning brain — and yet, you hesitate.
You continue to shuffle and avert your gaze, sometimes parting your lips to speak but withdrawing the next second.
A person that's found the tunnel’s end should run towards it, but you remain at the precipice of darkness.
“I…” The purple head straightens up at the sound of your voice, it is weak, hopeless ; a complete stranger to who you once were.
You abruptly gather your things, “I’m sorry, please forget I ever said anything —” an innocent glass is knocked off in your haste.
Cold, your hand is chillingly cold as Ratio grabs it, preventing you from running away. The unnatural temperature of it temporarily unsettles the man, but the situation at hand prompts him to push the observation back.
You try to force your wrist out of his grasp, but he presses on, “Can’t you see, that they are ruining you? This is not who you used to be! Your so-called 'fiance' is destroying you, they’ll not stop until you're nothing but a shell of yourself and they can reshape you to their liking!”
“I really have to go —” a vein pops on Ratio’s forehead, the wanton glass hits the floor.
“And why go? To receive another slap from them?” he feels your palm dampen from sweat, pieces of shattered crystal splaying across the tiles.
You look at him in disbelief and he blinks, the sharpness of his words finally cutting him.
The incipiency of an apology gathers at the tip of his tongue, but you halt it from escaping.
“Whatever happens between us, is none of your business, Veritas Ratio.”
If your hand was simply cold, your glare is freezing. It stuns the scholar enough to make his clasp loosen, you quickly snatch your hand away.
You’re two steps in when Veritas rushes to add, unwilling to back down, “But it was still you who reached out to me.”
The scholar hears the pause in your heels, you don't turn to address him and he doesn't move to obstruct your path either.
The bell signals your departure as the waitress from before rushes to clean the broken glass, leaving Ratio alone with his thoughts.
—
Veritas Ratio has had scarce attachments to worry about in his life.
For better or for worse, it appeared as though the direction of his life was steered towards one particular destination, everything else proved to be transient.
While his surroundings eroded and flourished within the touch of mortal delights, he remained but a spectator, destined to observe but never indulge.
Love. A simple word, yet any singular meaning behind which could still not be agreed upon.
He saw it in the way parents cradled their children, in the eyes of a couple that brushed past him in the streets. Flighty like the union between another pair of his former classmates, strengthened like the wrinkly hold of that couple that sold flowers down the street ; its form, just like its definition, is infinite.
The scholar thinks he's felt it somewhere in his past, or at least the vestiges of it — within the glow of a cryptic smile and a mind that did not yield.
Troublesome as it’d been, it did not conquer him. Ultimately, he wielded enough willpower to move on.
Some say, brilliant minds that toil too long in the territories of the unknown, become dense to the simpler aspects of life. Ratio did not see the inconvenience in this notion for a long time, not when it aided him more than burden him.
That is, until the encounter at the cafe.
If nothing else, it was clear to the prodigy that you had changed, for the worst at that.
The 'you' he’d known would know how to pick yourself up, or more accurately, that ‘you’ wouldn't have allowed things to escalate this far at all.
You would've left this rotten excuse of a relationship the first time they raised their voice, you would never concede to that fatal act of disrespect, under no circumstance would you let such an excuse of a human have such control — he… he hoped.
Ratio leaned back in his chair, a frown creeping in to his face.
For all these outrageous claims that he's been making of the you he was familiar with, how much did he actually know?
Is a year’s observation enough to grant him that badge of familiarity?
It is as you said, who is he to judge you at all?
Within the gloom of his study, his eyes unconsciously met with those etched in marble, the curve of a sun-kissed smile. He hand moved on its own, turning the table-lamp towards the sculpture and indeed, the light has always suited you more than him.
His recollections backtrack to the hazy gaze he saw that day, the encumbrance in them hoisting him up to chase after the itch for answers.
An uncounted number of hours passed, only after perusing a decent pile of tomes did it finally click in his head.
Ratio had no excuses or motivation to defend himself, he most certainly handled the situation poorly.
When the average attempts of leaving such relationships is between seven and twelve, it was insensitive of him to confront you like that.
Cognitions clouded in rage, he ignored the questions he should've asked, the sense of security he should've provided — the one you sought from him — and cornered you abruptly.
Foolish foolish foolish — he felt his fingers tug at his hair, breaths stuck in his lungs. Rationale does not always succeed in helping others see reason, how could he be so careless with you, of all people?
He didn't even know what stage of this hell you were at, how many times you’ve attempted to leave and what leverage they have over you.
Well, it would be most accurate to say he didn't know anything at all and yet, he arrogantly told you to 'just leave'.
The purple-head forced himself to breathe, the self-loathing could be shelved for a later day, what's more important now is finding you again.
He stood up from the heap of tomes, only to pause, does he deserve to seek you out again?
He betrayed your trust and you shut him off for good, should he even bother now?
A distant tug held him back.
Much like before, there is that line between you two that he cannot cross, must not cross.
He’s no longer a teenager in documents, but he doubts you see him as anything more than that ‘little Veri’.
—
The echoes of passing vehicles ricocheted around the streets, but Dr. Ratio’s attention stayed transfixed on the ivory petals in front of him.
A week or so had passed, the ruminations of those doubts kept him away from the confrontation and stole his nights.
It would be easy to cure this ailment, finding you would be but a matter of a few swipes. But that uncertainty, the ghost of a past insecurity, clung to his resolve. As such, peace abandoned him for a while.
A zephyr whispered to him, “Asphodels,”
He hummed without much thought, sunset orange eyes tracing the dulcet lines in those blooms.
“ ‘My regrets will follow you to the grave’, it's not everyday you see someone looking at these flowers with such care.”
If anyone looked straight into the scholar’s eyes at that moment, they'd for sure be able to witness the cogs turning in his brain in them.
Ratio finds you startled once he whips to his left, your presence finally registering in his head.
A prayer, a yearning, your name escapes his lips. But any further speech is obstructed from taking shape.
You’re the first to recover, “I apologize for running away like that the other day. It… was cowardly of me to tell you to mind your own business when I was the one who confided in you first.” your head lowers in appeal.
He’s sure of it now, you must be on the quest of giving him a heart-attack, what with these continuous surprises you’re throwing at him.
Well, if not a fatality, they're at least doing a wondrous job in preventing him from processing the fact in its entirety — you're here, you’re here, you're here.
You found him, again. Just like all those years ago in the lecture hall, all those times he was skipping lunch, on his eightieth birthday and that other day ; it was always you finding him.
(Has he ever broken through his pride and cowardice and tried to find you instead?)
The scholar hastens to join you, “No, it was my incompetence in failing to understand your situation that pushed you to leave. I completely failed to provide you with safety when you trusted me. For that, I beg your forgiveness.”
He couldn't see it, but he could picture your disbelief at his behavior. Your fist mirrored his, “No, it was clearly my stupidity—”
“Nonsense!” his exclamation earned him a flinch from you. He subconsciously straightened up to drive his point across, “It was me who —”
In the hurry and flurry of emotions, your head bumped with his, ending his tirade prematurely.
Your eyes settle on him, a car runs past your perplexed figures and then, the streets get cloaked in quietude ; before being filled with your giggle.
Against his control, his lips twitch and laughter bubbles in his chest. He allows them to gain voice and join yours.
You fan your face with your hand as the chuckles skid to an end, Ratio feels his cheeks warmed when he inhales. But none of you bother addressing the previous argument, its result apparent.
You take a deep breath and exhale. The scholar sees sun-glitter in your pupils, “I left them, by the way.”
That sobers him.
“Your…”
“Fiancé, yes. Or well, ex-fiancé now.” as if on cue, Ratio catches your now vacant ring finger.
“They tried to beg me to stay. But to be honest, it was not the first time they appealed to my sympathy.” you find interest in the pavement, searching for the remnants of your memories in their cracks.
“... But I really put my foot down this time. And oh, I didn't quit my job either, in case you were wondering.” you heave, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
“And where are you residing now — if you don't mind me asking?”
“I’m temporarily staying at a friend's house. Don't worry, I’m at a safe place.” you reassure, detecting the underlying concern in his inquiry.
Ratio’s shoulders sag as he exhales, the receding adrenaline dulling his worries. Turns out you didn't really need his help, not that he's astonished. It was in your nature to extend help towards others but thinking twice before asking for help.
(Although he's in no position to criticize, he so wished that you’d find it in yourself to rely on him a bit more.)
“If you ever need anything, just give me a call or a text. You still have my number, correct?” he glances down to gauge your expression.
When you nod, he murmurs a faint ‘good’ and silence takes over. He contemplates if he should add anything else, but the serenity in the atmosphere prompts him to push back those concerns.
“Well, goodbye for today?” you suggest, snapping him back to reality.
He raises his hand to do just that, but a different thought alarms him.
“Let me walk you home.” he pushes back the cringe at the excess firmness to his tone, rushing to add, “Please?”
For a blink or two, you looked at him as though you’ve just sighted an alien. He assumes it's the ‘out-of-character’ tendencies he’s been portraying that has you double-check. It seems that he was not the only one comparing the present and the past.
Luck appeared by his side — or perhaps it was just your pity — and you conceded without any complaint, letting him join your steps. The scholar barely hid his glee through his gait.
The planet that housed Veritas Prime would get decorated in the lovely shades of ripened maple leaves around this time. Civilians gathered in groups beneath these scenes, some enjoying a leisurely picnic, others focused on getting their desired pictures.
Ratio noticed your wanton glance at a pair on a picnic mat, his lips tugging down at the tell-tale signs of where your thoughts ran towards.
But before he could do anything, you turned away and picked up your pace ; the pair’s laughter but background noise.
With some haste, he caught up to you. Racking his brain to distract your mind, he found himself empty-handed.
Four doctorates and yet, his mind goes blank when he needs it the most. He couldn't be any more disappointed in himself.
Just as he’s about to start a mental berating though, you side-step a rock and Ratio’s hand bumps with yours, their frigidity alerting him.
He stops in his tracks, and you do too, looking up quizzically at him.
He extends his palm, “Give me your hand,”
Your confusion only increases, “What? Why?”
“It’s too cold. Are you certain you aren't sick?” he thinks back to the encounter he had with you at the cafe, the chill he felt when he grasped your hand. He initially thought it a coincidence, but now, he was really concerned.
“Ahh, this, you see,” you flex your fingers, a feeble attempt at warming them up. “My hands kind of respond to the temperature? Don't ask because I don't know exactly why either, during winter, they're usually cold like this. But in summer, they're very warm.”
Ratio quirks a brow, “Just the fact that it tends to happen doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, does it?”
“No…” you trail off, “But! That's what my fiance— I mean, ex-fiance would always tell me, to just get used to it.”
Your eyes flicker back to Ratio’s, the disbelief in them telling you enough of what you need to know.
The scholar ran a hand through his hair, he shuddered to ponder what other garbage they had fed your brain.
His sigh is carried by a passing breeze, “It’s okay. They aren't here to dictate your life anymore.” he once again offers you his hand, another hope-filled prayer.
You look at his extended palm and back to his patient gaze, your fingers fisting in themselves for a moment before loosening.
He sees the ebb and flow of doubt and hope in their movements, inching closer and closer to his.
He cradles your hand when it reaches him, your fingers slipping easily through the gaps of his. The difference in temperature alerts his reflexes for a second before he calms them down.
He stuffs your intertwined hands in his coat pocket — your gasp fades behind you as he resumes his gait.
Ratio does not dare glance in your direction, but he knows you're watching, scrutinizing him. It reminds him of the look you had at the end of your university days, the memory of the incident that followed makes his throat parched.
Your grip is unusually weak, combined with the knowledge of your situation, the scholar can't stop himself from adding.
“Have you been eating well? Tell me if you haven't, I'll take you to have a proper meal. But don't lie about these matters, you can't achieve your dreams if you don't take care of yourself first.”
You freeze at his words and Ratio makes the mistake of returning your stare.
Seeing no change in his serious expression though, you shake your head with a chuckle, assuring him of your health.
The clicking of both of your shoes against the pavement is the only thing keeping his heart-beat at bay, his attention from focusing too much on the feel of your hand in his and the myriad of chemical reactions flooding his reward system.
When the coldness in your hand has been completely replaced with the warmth from his, you gesture to him that you’ve reached your destination.
He feels an unexpected reluctance in letting you go, something in his gut pushing him to hold on — but he ignores it.
You pause before opening the gates, glancing at him from over your shoulder.
He looks up in time to see your smile, it's not like all those times you’ve smiled before — no, no. This time, lilac petals cling to its corners.
Ratio covered his mouth with his hand, hiding the stupid curve of his lips from anyone's eyes. The lingering warmth from your hand finally allowed his heart to beat with fervor.
He wanted nothing more than to give you a bouquet of bluebells at that moment.
vii. Sfumato
The day Dr. Ratio returned to your side with the pledged bluebells, was beautiful.
The canopy of winter had begun to be swept aside as nascent leaves heralded spring, twitters of birds ornamented the breeze.
When fresh fountain ink meets parchment, it spreads with a thin halo of blue — the sky of that moment brought back this image in his mind. The sun found amusement in steering behind ivory clouds ; a cheeky, one sided game of hide and seek played with light and dark.
The sun made a mistake, a sidestep allowed rays to escape and fall on the lace ribbon of the bouquet.
Sun-glitter followed the lead of Ratio’s arm, over the arch of his wrist, finding their way from beneath the crevices of his fingers — shining, glimmering, as lapis petals caressed the tombstone.
How strange, didn't it usually rain and roar for scenes like these in those light novels of yours?
Veritas could not feel his breaths, it's as if the mechanisms of his respiratory system halted for that matter, he couldn't even feel his eyes flutter.
Idiocy.
He contemplated turning away altogether, what was he even thinking, bringing bluebells to the cemetery like a young lover?
A dead leaf crunched from his retreating step, the note stunning him in place.
Perhaps he should've brought the chopped off, bleeding excuse of a skull of that man — if only, if only if only any being, any listening existence in this wretched world would reassure him that it’d bring you back.
The scholar felt his fingers lax from their cocoon, but he knew, that would be impracticable. If a life for a life resurrected the other, his fingers wouldn't tremble in usurping that leverage and bringing justice to your final moments.
But he knew, oh how the erudite scholar despised knowledge for the first time in his life — that it’d soothe him, but leave a hollow far worse in his heart.
A sigh forced its way past his lips, onerous was its euphony. Windswept locks of violet poked at the way crystalline orange held onto the engraving on the silver stone ; the name, once his boon, now his bane.
Splinters of marble flew, papers, pens, innocent objects were tossed aside like fickle trash. Rouge flecked once pristine alabaster. Midst the carnage, a book fell betwixt Veritas’s path.
A withered daffodil lamented rationality’s fall.
Newspapers and channels boldly flashed the incident for a week — individual apprehended for the charge of murdering their ex-fiancé — before being swallowed by other, more fascinating pieces of events.
Ratio found himself scoffing at their tone, picking apart their every word and spacing, frowning at how quick people's interest moved on.
Indeed, the world waits for none. The ones lingering are always tormented.
With the last person in close association with you behind the bars of the psych ward and your acquaintances grieving, the scholar took it upon himself to deliver your files and belongings to your family.
But that decision turned out to be a lesson, the universe once again pointing out without mercy the mediocrity of his knowledge.
“Does that mean we’ll have to turn to the streets now?” whispered a little too loudly, a little too carelessly, your step-mother to your father.
Ignorance.
Perhaps Ratio’s disbelief had been too loud on his face, for your father shushed her quickly and attempted to smooth over the slip-up with a barely-strung lament.
But the scholar had learned what was to be surmised from this family, all of their next speeches effortlessly ignored by him.
So the reason you ultimately didn't quit your job was for them, Veritas's eyes dimmed. Feelings were never his forte, this messy heap of them he had no clue what to do with.
And the siblings you used to so dearly miss back in your university days? The second-oldest after you put back her headphones after he finished delivering the news and the youngest couldn't even recall your name.
Ratio seldom used the phrase, but it was truly a miracle he left that fetid establishment without causing damage.
He decided against disclosing your remaining belongings to them and instead, gave them away for charity as written in a journal he accidentally stumbled upon while sorting through them.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew this would happen.
But you refused to confide in anyone, tolerating the farce of a content life.
Ratio could not understand, did not even know where to begin in decoding what was going through your head when you lied to him and what had coerced him into believing it.
Of course you didn't leave them, that would've been too perfect and too merciful an end and clearly, the universe would not allow it. Of course he needed to be shown how much of an idiot he still is, the extent of his wishful thinking.
Ratio concurs he deserves it.
But did you deserve to meet such an end? No, your life shouldn't have been shaped this way to begin with! And yet, it had been.
For long did he stare off into vacant space, casting aside the need for slumber, attempting to answer what was to be done now. The silence beckoned him, that it was nothing.
Perhaps, you were at peace now at last.
Perhaps the craving for this serenity was what had prompted you from not fighting off that axe.
Perhaps, you had closed your eyes without any regrets.
When the haze in his head cleared a bit, he visited your grave again. Dust had gathered on the lifeless petals of the bluebells he’d left, the scholar tenderly rid them from the surface.
He dug a section beside your resting place and planted fresh asphodels. An elderly woman saw the scene in passing but did not comment, pity clung at the edges of her eyes.
Foolishness.
In fear of the tides of time burying the traces of your foot-steps, Ratio chased after them. The places you spoke so fondly of, the flowers and stories you cherished and the students you stood proud beside.
They spoke of your passion, your vision and your resilience to him.
They say, even a lifetime of ‘knowing’ someone is not sufficient in knowing them.
Although he’d known you for a miniscule timeframe, he squandered no effort in trying to understand you. Only at this juncture, did your nature become clear to him. You were an expert in keeping your lips shut, a seasoned performer of half-truths and no stranger to the art of survival.
It was no coy act, you trusted no one with your actual thoughts and motivations — that was the naked truth.
So then, it begs the question, what exactly did you try so hard to eradicate?
Supposing that this universe suffers from a common ailment, and it is so persistent, so adhesive, so elusive that it plagues the dullest to the most brilliant mind — that despite all attempts at curing it, only its surface has been scratched. And this truth had been so frustrating, even you could not stand back.
Ratio tapped his fingers against his desk, what other malady does an educator aspire to cure other than ignorance?
Foolishness? Idiocy? Stupidity? All synonymous, yet capable of clasping and corrupting irrespective of a person’s standing in the path of life.
To rid them, scholars, researchers and teachers attempt to disseminate knowledge with the vow of indiscrimination.
But Dr. Ratio knew, the oasis of knowledge is but a mirage in the desert of ignorance. For the populace to reach that base awareness, to recognize that mirage — that, is what is needed.
The scholar saw the early light of dawn from betwixt the crevices of his window, the hinges groaned as he pushed them open and for the first time — the sun embraced him and the shadows fell behind his form.
But the meteor that briefly illuminated his sky, is gone — as tends to be their destiny. He can do nothing but carry the memories of its glow.
—
Light glinted over the edge of the cone, approaching footsteps reminded the doctor to tuck it away from prying eyes.
Ratio tsk-ed upon feeling the absence of his headpiece, cracks on the alabaster had demanded a remake.
The scholar’s eyes met with the ones cradling the remnants of a bygone sunset, melting into hues of ocean blue.
“Doc! Didn't expect to see you here.” drawled an unfortunately familiar man. Ratio offered a blink in greeting.
“Yes, how astonishing it is to see a member of the Intelligentsia Guild in its corridors.” the doctor muttered plainly, the Stoneheart in the spotlight merely maintained his smile.
Ratio noticed his other hand to be occupied, “And what about you? Busy squandering your time as usual, gambler?”
Contrary to his expectations, the quirk of Aventurine’s lips widened as though he’d struck gold, he smoothed over the lapels of his suit. The erudite scholar subconsciously braced himself for whatever trick was to be brought next.
“Now now, it's not squandering if you're spending it with a dear person.” he winked.
Veritas caught a silhouette peeking from behind the blonde, “Meaning?”
“Ah, how uncourteous of me.” though there's a note of glee in his voice. “Allow me to introduce you to…”
Dr. Ratio observed as a figure emerged from Aventurine’s shadow, the passing question of how he hadn't noticed them sooner was pushed aside as they joined the Stoneheart in the spotlight.
“My dearest, precious jewel or— how did you prefer it again? Hmm I can't seem to remember~” an elbow to his side and huff broke through his theatrics ; the vacant halls gained life through laughter, petrichor bloomed in their notes.
“Just kidding, my bluebell.”
A meteor crossed the orbit of Ratio’s life again.
© harmonysanreads | do not cross-post, translate, plagiarise, copy on a different platform or use my works to train ai.
Thank you so much for reading!
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#dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio x you#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#yandere dr ratio#yandere dr ratio x reader#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail#yandere honkai star rail x reader#dr ratio fluff#dr ratio angst#right on the one year anniversary of ratio's first in-game appearance bro—
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A FRESH START 𓂃 𓈒 ❀
synopsis — after leaving wakanda, bucky starts to rediscover who he is while living with you, slowly bulding a new life. his dispair deepens and you offer him a fresh start with a simple act: cutting his hair.
angst. fluff
—you have to stop thinking that every time something good is happening to you it's because something worse is on the way. that´s not a way to live, buck —. you said softly, your voice steady but with a hint of concern.
bucky shook his head, running a hand over his face as a sign of desperation. if only he could remember what life felt like before hydra took him, before all those wasted years. after so long he was still trying to figure it out, still trying to find a version of himself that didn’t feel like a stranger. trying to get used to his new life in the city, far from the peace he had known in wakanda. all these sudden changes only made him more confused and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to adjust, it was that he didn’t know how.
it had been a almost a year since bucky had moved in with you, since you had defeated thanos and steve had left. when the dora milaje declared him ready to live a normal life, bucky stood there, unsure of what that even meant. he had no place to go. louisiana crossed his mind for a moment, sam had always extended an open invitation but the thought of intruding on sam’s family life stopped him, and steve was gone, something he chose not to think much about, so for the first time in over a century, bucky was truly on his own.
except he wasn’t. you were there.
when you found out he needed a place, you didn’t think about it twice. he resisted at first. ayo told him you were the right person to star building his new life. you trust her, you trust her more than you admit. that is where you begin. trust. she is the right person to help you build this new life, james.
and he couldn't remember what you two had shared before hydra took him, before everything fell apart but there was a pull. by the things steve told him, you three were best friends once, inseparable. he spoke of nights you spent laughing, of how he’d head home early, leaving you and bucky behind, knowing that bucky would arrive later, with a big smile on his lips. steve chuckled when he mentioned your lipstick, smeared on bucky’s mouth when he finally made it back. you never wiped it off, you wore it like a badge of honor.
bucky tried to imagine it, those moments of joy but the memories never came. but he could still feel it. he felt it that day in wakanda, when you arrived with steve and natasha to fight thanos. you smiled at him, just a brief moment in the chaos, but it stayed with him. there was something so familiar about that smile, something warm and he felt it too every time you visited him or sent him what had once been his favorite sweets, little reminders of a life he no longer remembered but somehow still carried with him.
so, he showed up at your door a few days later, a bag hung over his shoulder and a sad look in his eyes. he didn't try to argue this time. —you sure about this?
you didn’t hesitate. —absolutely.
living with bucky was easy. he was quiet, he didn't need much space. after months, he started making it his place too, little by little. he left his shoes by the door beside yours, the book he picked up from one of your shelves appeared on the coffee table, his leather jacket draped over the back of a chair.
—it's not that easy —. he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
you watched him. —i know it’s not, —you said softly, stepping closer to him. —but you don’t have to do it all at once. no one expects that from you.
he shook his head again. —feels like they do, —he said, his blue eyes looking directly into yours. you could see the sadness and the guilt of the moments he couldn’t take back. —feels like every time i mess up, it’s just proof that i don’t belong here. as if this life was not made for me —his voice was low, barely more than a murmur. —what if the only thing i'm good at is killing?
you took a deep breath. it was hard to hear him say that, to see the man you’d known before hydra, who was your best friend and the love of your life, now drowning in self-doubt and guilt. —you’re more than what they made you.
—am i? because that’s all i’ve ever done. all i know how to do.
—but it’s not who you are, it’s what they forced you to be. the fact that you’re even asking this? that you’re fighting to be someone better? that’s proof enough that that wasn't you at all.
he closed his eyes tightly and ran his hands through the long strands of his hair. for a moment, you just stood there, watching him. you wanted to pull him back from whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him, but you hesitated, ayo told you to do so, to let him space to feel this, to fight against it, even if it hurt.
—i can still feel him inside my head, i can hear his thoughts. he's not gone.
bucky’s fingers suddenly grabbed the roots of his hair with a little more force. his breathing grew faster, his hands shook and his eyes squeezed shut. you couldn't see how deep his pain was and not do anything to stop him from hurting himself.
you stepped closer. —bucky, hey… —your hands sneaked into his hair, softly pulling his grip from his scalp. his hands were trembling, and for a moment, there was resistance in him like he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of the only thing he could hold onto. but your touch was soft, familiar and something shifted, almost imperceptible, but you could feel the tension in him loosen.
—the bucky i knew isn’t gone. he’s still in there. i see him every time you fight for something good, every time you try to make amends, every time you care about the people around you, about me.
his shoulders fell, and his head hung low, he didn’t want you to see him like this, weak and broken. but you had seen him in his darkest moments as the winter soldier and you had experienced thanos taking him away from you with the blip. the years without him had been a painful, you thought you lost him forever. yet there he was, standing before you, alive, and you weren’t about to let him go again.
your hands gently moved to push the back of his head, guiding him to rest his forehead on your shoulder. he was still a bit unsure about how to handle this type of physical contact, used to years of torture, where touch always meant pain, control, or something to fear. now you held him close to your body, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
—why don’t i cut your hair?
—cut my hair?
—yeah, it´ll help you to see yourself in a different way. a fresh start.
bucky pulled back a little, he wasn’t sure if you were joking. —you think cutting my hair will fix everything?
you smiled softly, you wished it could be that easy. —no, —you admitted. —but ayo told your new life will be built on small things.
bucky sighed.
the idea of letting go parts of himself that tied him to the winter soldier felt like a whole world. first, it was his metal arm, the one with the red star, when tony ripped it off of him, bucky felt relieved, like tony was cutting one of the heads of the hydra to end the monster. in wakanda, he learned to live using only his flesh-and-blood arm until they gave him a new one which he only intended to use for good.
and now you were asking to cut his hair.
—ayo did say that, didn’t she? —he murmured, almost to himself.
—she’s a smart woman and besides, it’s just a haircut. if you hate it, it’ll grow back.
a small smile appeared in his lips. —if it ends up bad, i’m blaming you.
you took a chair from the kitchen to the bathroom and he sat down in front of the mirror. bucky stared at his reflection as he pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed. he didn't like mirrors, he avoided them as much as he could. he didn't like the person staring back at him, he didn't know who that man was and now sitting on that chair there was no escape.
there was a difference this time. next to one of the things he most hated to look at—his reflection—was one of the things he liked the most to look at—you.
his blue eyes moved from his reflection to yours. you stood behind him and ran your hands gently through his hair. he felt that familiar tickle in his stomach, the one he first felt almost a century ago and that, even after all the years, it hadn't gone away.
he felt it every morning when you entered the kitchen, hair a mess from sleep, mumbling a soft “good morning” to him. he felt it when he came home in the evenings and dinner was ready and you were sitting at the table, waiting for him. he felt it most when you would fell asleep on the couch and he had to carry you to your bed, careful not to wake you. and you'd ask him in your sleep to stay, and he'd freeze, he wanted to say yes, he wanted to stay. but he couldn’t risk it, his nightmares were still too real. so bucky would gently place you in your bed, making sure you were well tucked in, and whisper, i’ll be in my room, if you need anything.
—are you ready? —you asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts. you already had the scissors in your hand and bucky shifted in the chair at the sight of them. —it'll be okay, buck.
—feels like more than just a haircut.
you nodded, understanding. —well, that's what we wanted, isn't it?
bucky swallowed and nodded.
—why don't you close your eyes? i'll let you know when i'm done.
with a deep breath, he did as you said. your lips curved into a small smile even though he could no longer see you. you were aware of all the progress he had made. you knew he trusted you with his heart because on no other occasion he would willingly keep his eyes closed with someone standing behind him, scissors in hand and when your hands rested on his shoulders, he hadn’t flinched at the contact.
—okay, i'll start.
with his eyes closed it was much easier to feel the delicacy with which you treated him. the way your fingers combed through his scalp and then the sound of the scissors, followed by the sensation of the strands falling and taking with them the weight he had carried for so long. and you talked, about anything that crossed your mid so he did not feel that he was in danger or he had to be alert at any time.
—maybe we could get a cat, —you said. —i think it’d be nice. do you think you’d be a good cat parent?
—maybe —. he said after a pause. —i definitely prefer a cat to a dog.
you switched to the clippers, you left the hair at the top of his head a little longer, while the rest of it was cut shorter. a very chic haircut for someone born in 1917. you carefully checked that his hair was even and then you styled it with your fingers.
—okay, i'm done, you can open your eyes.
bucky hesitated for a moment, then opened his eyes. your breath caught in surprise as you watched him take in the sight of himself. it was like having the bucky you once knew staring right at you through the mirror. his features were the same, just a bit more more defined and mature.
he felt the same relief as when tony ripped off the metal arm that hydra embedded in his body, like a part of him that had once been used against him, now freed. he turned his head slowly to both sides to get a better look and to be honest, he liked his new look. physically, he could see the resemblance to the man in the photos you had shown him, the young soldier who smiled to you, in love.
—how do you feel? i think it suits you —. you asked gently.
bucky nodded. —i like it —. he caught your gaze in the mirror. the eye contact was so intense that you had to look away. you cleared your throat, hoping to ease the tension, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
—alright, come on, —you tapped his shoulder for him to stand up. — i'm going to sweep your hair off the floor.
bucky got up from the chair and turned his head to look at you, not through the mirror this time, but directly, and the sudden closeness made your breath hitch. —thank you for doing this.
—you don't need to thank me, buck. i'm glad it turned out well, it was my first time doing it.
—you sure about that? —he asked—it doesn’t feel like it was your first time.
you laughed, still avoiding his gaze. —guess we got lucky, then.
there was a silence; you were both too close, but not close enough yet. bucky’s eyes moved to your lips for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make your heart race. you could both feel the tension, an invisible string pulling you toward each other, daring one of you to close the gap. you didn’t want to take the first step, you didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t ready for, the last thing you wanted was to break the fragile trust he’d built with you.
you opened your mouth to say something but he talked first.
—can i kiss you? —his voice was low, almost shy.
you were surprised because you didn't expected him to ask so directly, but consent was so important to him. he spent too many years under someone else’s control, forced into actions that weren’t his own, and now he was determined never to cross those lines. it wasn’t just about asking to kiss you, it was about making sure that you were comfortable, that you wanted this just as much as he did.
—yeah, —you whispered —you can.
bucky stepped closer, his flesh-and-blood hand reaching to cup your cheek, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you leaned into him instead, your lips finally meeting his.
he felt strange. he had wanted to kiss you for what felt like forever, and now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do next. his mind raced, trying to remember how this was supposed to go. he forgot about kissing, forgot about the rhythm of it, the give and take. his hand slipped from your cheek to fall awkwardly at his side as he pulled away from your lips just enough just to say:
—i don't... i don't remember how to do this.
—it's okay. you're doing just fine. there’s no right or wrong way. just… follow me.
this time, when your lips met, you moved slowly, guiding him. his tension disappeared as he mirrored your movements, his right hand returned to your cheek, the other, his metal one, moved to hold your hips. it wasn’t perfect, the movements of his lips were still hesitant, but there was something honest about the way he kissed you.
as he kissed you, bucky became more aware of his body and where his hands were and realized that his metal hand was resting lightly on your waist. he pulled the hand away quickly. —i'm sorry, i didn't mean to...
you shook your head, one of your hands flew to the back of his neck to connect your lips while your other one grabbed his vibranium arm and guided his hand to where it was before. as the kiss deepened, you felt him relax, stop worrying about whether he was doing it right or wrong, about the touch of his cold hand on your skin, and he just kissed you.
you hummed before parting ways. his cheeks were flushed, his lips were a bit swollen and glossy, his breathing a little uneven and you couldn't help a little laugh from escaping your lips.
—okay, now you're just laughing at me.
—you're so cute, buck.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#bucky#james buchanan barnes#bucky smut#bucky fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x you#sebastian stan#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#winter soldier x you#marvel smut#marvel fluff#marvel angst#tfatws#tfatws bucky#winter solider x reader#sebastian stan fluff
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but he's an angel | yoon jeonghan
🪄 pairing, yoon jeonghan x reader
🪄 warning, model!jeonghan, jeonghan can speak french, romance & fluff, meet cute, reader is in love with this guy (they literally just met), feminine jeonghan, lyr uses feminine features & adjectives when describing jeonghan, teasing (mainly from jeonghan), jeonghan is kind of a nuisance at times (reader is too blinded by love at first sight to notice or care), cute + wholesome
🪄 summary, it's another boring day at the coffee shop you work at─that is, until a pretty korean who can speak shockingly good french asks you for a coffee you don't know how to make.
🪄 author's note, i wrote this because i'm going through jeonghan withdraws again :( it's a bit rushed and not my best work, but i did it for jeonghan and that's all that matters to me tbh!! took a break from writing for dokyeom but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled kyeom tomorrow!! hope you all had a merry christmas lyrnation :>
🪄 now playing, banana shake, hus
The bell jingles cutely as another customer leaves satisfied with a cup of hot, steaming coffee, and you slump against the countertop, social battery already drained from dealing with elderly ladies who couldn't read the menu signs well.
It was yet another boring day at Crème des Anges, the French coffee shop you happened to work at. Your favorite coworker, Joshua, was out sick with the cold, so you had to bear it all on your own, working with one of the older, grumpier ladies of the task force. It left you drained of all life and happiness, having to try not to wince at the lady's bored voice when she answered customers.
The jazz music was sweet when you entered in earlier this morning, but you swore the tracks were on a looping playlist, never stopping. You couldn't tell where one song stopped and other started, and to be honest, you were over trying to figure it out.
After giving a buisness woman extra creamer, you disappeared to the back to try to get a break from the boring, stuffy atmosphere.
Even though the back of the coffee shop was warm and inviting in color and decoration, you felt like you wanted to cry and drool all over the pretty couches and soft, plush chairs. The very cliche slogan of Crème des Anges stood in bold calligraphy, and you sighed, just grimacing at reading it
The cream of the angels is served here!
If the cream of the angels were served in a shockingly opressive coffee house with the same ten jazz tracks and sickening smell of caramel lingering in every nook and cranny of it, you'd pass.
A jingle of the bell begrudgingly led you out to the main counter again, and you dusted yourself off, pasting on your best smile as you recited one of the five default greetings you had to every new customer.
"Welcome to Crème des Anges, where everything is made from the cream of─"
Words fall short of the sight you see in front of you when you blink, but you could afford to try to describe it, right?
The customer has this soft, lazy glow to them─as if it was a haze of some kind. They smelled of vanilla and warmth, and the silky top they were wearing only added to the softness of their disposition. Their hair, as dark and smooth as bitter chocolate, and skin as glassy and clear as a brand-new mirror.
Their eyes were unlike anything you had ever seen─deep and brown with pointed lashes, soft and curling. Their lips were covered in a swipe of glittery, pink lip gloss, shimmering under the coffee shop's lights as they smiled at you sweetly, lips parting to reveal a perfect straight set of pearl-white teeth.
"─Cream of the angels." Their voice is unlike anything you had ever heard─it was a mixture of masculine and feminine, plesant and warm to listen to with a lilt of their special way of talking. They were soft, illuminating your world and the whole coffee shop with their words.
"Yeah, um─Cream...cream of the angels," Your face is burning red, and you clear your thraot, obviously still fazed by the arrival of this magical person. You couldn't even tell whether they were a male or a female, but you found that even more alluring.
The laugh that slipped from their lips was nothing short of melodic, sweet and tangy like tiramisu cake as they stared at you with a playfulness in your eyes. "Even though you were stuttering over your words for a bit there, you got it," The person smiled at you again, and you blushed, laughing autonomously as you tried to get a hold of yourself again.
"Okay, so, uh─um, what would you like today? I could give you recommendations if you want?" You try to resume your assigned lines as normal, but with the pretty stranger's eyes on you, your brain was slower than usual.
They laughed at your slow expression, obviously catching on to what you were thinking. "I'll make it easy on you. You're so flushed; you like like a very cute tomato."
And now the stranger was calling you cute? (A tomato too, but that was besides the point.) You could just die from your now amazing luck.
"What about..." The person trails off, leaving you awaiting for their cream-like voice. "What about an Café au lait?"
Café au lait? You had never heard of a drink like that before. Even though you were in Paris, all they really served is just normal American coffees. You weren't even sure the aformentioned grumpy lady even knew how to make an Café au lait, and you weren't going to ask her either.
Plus, you had to prove your worthiness to this pretty stranger somehow.
"Of course," You comply, putting his order into the system as you slip into third person for a second. Your situation has finally hit you in the face: a pretty stranger has appraoched your coffee shop, and now you're giving it a drink that's not even on the menu?
How down bad are you for this dream of a person?
"What will the name be on that order?" You add just seconds later, and the person adjusts the pricey-looking watch on their wrist as the anwer with a smirk. "Yoon Jeonghan."
No wonder you felt like you were the virgin Mary being visited by the angel Gabriel. The person─the man─you were talking to now was none other than Yoon Jeonghan, the male model popular for his continuous breaking of gender norms and star-studded photoshoots. You weren't one for fashion or makeup, but even you had heard of him, and that was his forte. He was perfect in almost everyway, and here you were, taking his order.
"Yoon Jeonghan, then." You say again, and Jeonghan laughs deviously, eyelashes brushing against his light cheeks as he stares up at you through them.
"It sounds like you just like the sound of my name in your mouth." Jeonghan's voice is cheeky, daring, and you clear your throat, glancing down at your shaking hands as you give an awkward laugh.
Blushing (and unable to deny him), you finish ringing up his order, taking his credit card and finishing the payment as he smiles, thakning you. "I'm really excited to try that Café au lait you're gonna make me. I believe in you."
Oh, no, you think to yourself, giving Jeonghan an awkward smile as you reply with an even awkwarder tone, "You're gonna love it."
Now, there was three things wrong with this situation. One, is the fact that you are now scrambling all over a customer, completely ignoring the rules set up by your boss.
Two, there is no such thing on Café au lait on your menu─you're sure Jeonghan knows it too, and is just waiting to see how you're going to make it happen.
And Three, well, you'd have to learn how to make a Café au lait and how to make a Café au lait fast, because that angel of a boy who's just entered your hellscape of a coffee shop has you in his delicate grip.
A delicate grip you're thrilled to be in, all because he's an angel.
#kpop seventeen#seventeen#svt#svt jeonghan#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan imagine#jeonghan fic#yoon jeonghan#svt fanfic#jeonghan oneshot#jeonghan imagines#lyrwrites#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#missing jeonghan#i'm missing him yall#i'm having withdrawls#i don't love this oneshot#but i don't hate it either so#we're getting somewhere??#feminine jeonghan though#pretty jeonghan though#drooling i fear#it's a dream#he's a dream#please come back#.......
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ stick with me ]❜
━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹
ft. kang sae-byeok x f! reader — squid game
╰₊✧ finding out you’re also participating in the games & staying by your side throughout┊1.6k words
contains: mentions of canon-typical violence, open ending, season one spoilers, headcanons mainly, established relationship, sunshine (& kinda naive) x grumpy trope, sae-byeok being protective & the best gf, all of this is a little rambly like word vomit i hope you don’t mind
➤ author's note: squid game felt so empty without her like i adore all of the new women in season two but i missed her so much T-T
╰₊✧ even if she doesn’t show it through her expressions, she’s really upset to find you in this situation— not because she’s mad at you, but because she’s mad at herself. she wonders what kind of awful girlfriend she must be not to have noticed you were struggling through debt like she was. now that she thinks about it, she realizes how painfully obvious it was with your strange behavior when it came to working any freelance job you saw a sign of (you weren’t a pickpocket like her, you would never commit any crime intentionally), and being overall stingy when it came to spending money on yourself. she might unintentionally give you the silent treatment for the first few hours simply because she feels terrible about it all but still doesn’t want you to leave her side despite that.
“are you mad at me because i didn’t tell you?” you whined, sticking by her side like a baby duckling with its mama and gently holding on to her arm because she wasn’t looking at you. “sae-byeok… i just didn’t want you to worry about me when you already had so much on your plate…”
she merely blinked in response, stone-faced like usual, making it impossible to determine what was going through her mind. there was a sinking feeling in her chest, the feeling of failing one of the few people she cared about.
��it’s okay… i get it… i’ll give you some space— just come look for me when you wanna talk, i’m going to talk with some of the other people here…”
she suddenly grabbed you by the hand and dragged you back before you could move away, wrapping her arm around your waist in a protective manner, “no, i’m not mad at you, i promise. just stick with me, okay? i wouldn’t trust anyone here if i were you.” yes, the majority of people here seemed to be middle-aged people who were simply down on their luck. no, she didn’t believe there weren’t any bad ones who would easily take advantage of your kindness in such a large group of people.
you didn’t seem to quite understand what she meant in the last part, but you still cheerfully pulled her in for an embrace once she confirmed she wasn’t upset as you always did when a miscommunication was cleared up. (you didn’t see it, but she cracked a little smile when she hugged you back.)
╰₊✧ pushes you away the second she spots deok-su and quickly tells you to stay away while he confronts her about a past you didn’t know much about, making a scene in front of everyone and progressively getting more aggressive towards her. of course, once he makes his first swing, you immediately run in and start yelling at him to leave her alone when there were clearly more pressing issues at hand. when gi-hun interrupts because he wants to also confront her about something, you had to restrain yourself from pushing him away because you were a pacifist at heart and had been taught to respect your elders no matter what all your life.
╰₊✧ later when you two join the little alliance gi-hun formed, she makes them keep an eye on you if she has to part from you for any reason. she knows that bastard would make a beeline for you the second he sees you alone, and that bastard isn’t above playing dirty by hurting you or holding you hostage to get leverage on her. the guys find this to be so goddamn adorable and frequently tease sae-byeok for her obvious soft spot towards her girlfriend because they can tell she’s flustered despite how indifferent she may look. listening to you talk about her reminds them that she’s just another young woman who is trying to care for her loved ones and not the shady thief who works with gangsters they once thought she was. they also defend you guys from anyone being homophobic and swear that they will attend your wedding once they get out alive, noting they likely won’t have money for gifts after all the reward money goes toward paying off debt, but you tell them you would appreciate their presence anyway!
╰₊✧ after the first game when they vote all go home, she wants to make you swear on your life that you don’t ever go back to that dangerous place, but she knows how unrealistic that is. she now knows about the crippling debt you both have and it wouldn’t be long before the loan sharks will hunt you down to force you to do terrible things to pay it back. so on the last day of staying on the korean mainland, she coughs up the money to pay for a nice last date before the two of you willingly enter what you believe to be the closest thing earth has to hell.
╰₊✧ instead of the dangerous, loner vibe she has in the original, when she has you by her side, she has the aura of a mama bear— which is fitting considering you’re like a little cub. she’s very protective of you and gives everyone a look that says “hurt her and i’ll kill you” to shut down any possible schemes before they start and helps you out during all of the games because she doesn’t want to risk anything happening to you. it might feel a bit infantilizing to you, but she’s just so terrified at the concept of you getting injured or worse.
red light, green light - keeps you behind her at all times, verbally reminding you not to panic even though she can sense you freaking out. might even hold your hand and guide you through it all, telling you to close your eyes and ignore the sound of bullets as she pulls you through the finish line.
sugar honeycombs - tells ali to keep you company while she goes into the bathroom to sneak around the vents (he’s your best friend, by the way, the energy is immaculate) and immediately has you pick the triangle shape when lining up (there isn’t too much she needs to do because it’s one of the easier games for you to do).
special game (night of murder) - wants you to hide under the bunkbeds at first, a good idea until people started tipping them over. it’s difficult to find you with the lights flickering and with deok-su after her, so she has you met up with everyone else at gi-huns bed to protect each other. this battle is also likely the first time you cause bodily harm to someone else in self-defense, which will probably fuck you up especially if they are found dead later on. you’ll have some minor injuries, maybe a fractured rib or some cuts, but you’re still alive and that’s all that matters to sae-byeok.
tug of war - might look annoyed at your optimism to win with all the women and the old man on your team, but trust me, she really appreciates it since she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you suddenly shut down and because you seem to keep their heads ups with your infectious smile. there’s not much she could do to help you out here as it’s a team effort, but she was half-tempted to bribe you into a team with all men just in case (and also because you looked like you were about to start a fight with sang-woo over him insisting that they needed more men and wanting to kick ji-yeong off the team) yet ultimately decided against it which turned out to be the best decision.
╰₊✧ the games strengthen your relationship through all of the blood and trauma, sticking together through it all and taking care of each other in the lowest moments. you two often share food and sometimes even sleep in the same bed if the other needs comfort, which would be very cute if your hands weren’t constantly trembling from fear and your skin didn’t have little specks of dried blood all over. sae-byeok is tough and has seen her share of violence, but it was all things she was trying to hide from you and keep you safe from ever since she entered this relationship with you. no matter how much you try to assure her that you can handle it, the sinking feeling of failure never leaves her.
“i’m… i’m really scared…” you sighed, cuddling yourself into her side. the barracks were so quiet you could hear a pin drop, yet there was the almost suffocating looming fear of death haunting the place knowing so many souls died within these walls. it always felt so cold even under the blankets with the powerful air-conditioning, but the warmth radiating off of sae-byeok’s body felt like a sanctuary.
“i know, i know,” she assured. there was a part of her that wanted to admit that she was scared too as she rubbed circles into your back to ease you to sleep, she didn’t dare to even think of her biggest fear in case it manifested into reality. she wouldn’t know what to do with herself in case it came true, so she chose to bury the thought of it deep down where she prayed it would never show itself again.
she dreams of winning these games with you, using the money to pay off all your debts, helping her mother escape north korea, to go towards her brother’s future, to helping the both of you start new lives where you both were accepted— all things she thinks of to push back all of the dark thoughts and help her sleep in your arms, forever by your side.
request was [ Please could you do something about saebyeok x gf!reader? where they both went to the games 😪😪]
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Moonlight
Synopsis: Under the moonlight, you feel at peace, knowing that no matter where you go, Jeonghan will always find you.
Pairing: Jeonghan x gn!reader
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, fluff, established relationship
Rating: sfw
Word count: 820
Warnings: none!
Note: And with that, the 2024 season comes to an end! Thank you all so much for your love and support this year! I look forward to continuing to write fics in the coming year. See you in 2025!
Thank you always to my second favourite menace @tusswrites for beta reading and helping me with the synopsis!
@tomodachiii @soo0hee I expanded on that Hannie drabble I sent you hehe.
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Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
Red.
That's all that you're seeing at the moment. Red. Hot. Anger. It washes over you, blinds you. You're screaming, you think, but you can't really tell. It feels like your head is underwater—everything's muffled.
In front of you is your boyfriend, Jeonghan, who also seems to be very upset. At what? You don't know. The both of you don't, but here you are, screaming your head off at him whilst he retaliates with soft but stern words.
"I'm leaving," you announce, your chest heaving. Where? You're not sure; you just need to get away from him and everything. That's exactly what you do: you turn around and leave—your legs aimlessly bringing you to your unknown destination.
You're not great at handling problems. Whenever one arises, you tend to avoid it rather than confront it, retreating to your corner and hoping it will resolve itself. But life rarely works out that way, doesn't it? You’ve learned the hard way that running from your problems doesn’t make them disappear—it only makes them worse. They linger, growing in the background until they eventually explode in your face. You’ve tried to break this habit, and with Jeonghan’s help, you are starting to make progress. But as they say, old habits die hard.
And that’s how you ended up here, riding the train back to your hometown, Busan. You’re not even sure how or when you got on—it’s all been a blur, and it still is. You feel…hollow. Your mind is empty; blank. No emotions, no thoughts, just nothing. The scenery outside the window blurs together into a shapeless mesh of colours. The world feels dull and lifeless; everything that once seemed vibrant now looks dead and bland.
"This stop is Busan. This stop is Busan," the announcement jolts you out of your daze. With a sigh, you stand up and step off the train.
You take a deep breath, letting your body relax as the familiar air of your hometown fills your lungs. With no destination in mind, you start walking aimlessly through the bustling city, taking in both familiar and unfamiliar sights. It always amazes you how something about the city changes every time you return. A shop you used to visit might be gone, replaced by something new. The park might be renovated, with fresh equipment giving children even more to play with. Yet, there are constants that remain unchanged—the towering buildings reaching for the sky, the salty sea breeze, and the rhythmic crash of ocean waves. These are the things that take you back to your younger self.
You curl your toes, feeling the sand clump together beneath your bare feet. Somehow, your legs have carried you back to a familiar place—the beach you loved as a child. The cool waves crash against your feet as the salty sea breeze caresses your face. Your gaze drifts to the endless horizon, where the sun kisses the ocean, painting the sky in a breathtaking blend of orange and yellow. It looks like a masterpiece on a canvas.
You’ve always preferred sunsets over sunrises. There’s something captivating about the vivid shades of orange, yellow, and even pink that fill the sky—it never fails to mesmerise you. Sunsets mark the end of the day, a moment of closure after the struggle and effort of the hours before. While not everyone gets to see the sunrise, the sunset is a gift shared by all. And with the sunset comes the promise of the moon. The night sky, illuminated by the moon and scattered with stars, is something you could stare at for hours.
With a sigh, you take a few steps back and sit down, pulling your knees to your chest as you wrap your arms around them. You’re not sure how much time has passed when you hear the soft sound of footsteps approaching. A figure settles down beside you, mirroring your posture. You don’t need to look—you already know who it is. It’s the person you lashed out at before coming here, Jeonghan.
Resting your head on his shoulder, you take a deep breath, letting the salty ocean air fill your lungs. The two of you sit in silence, staring out at the sea, the rhythmic sound of the waves filling the space between you.
"You know I'll always be here for you, right?" He whispers, breaking the silence.
"Hm."
"No matter how far you go, even to the ends of the earth, I will always find you."
"Hm."
Silence.
"I'm sorry," you mumble.
"I'm sorry too," he whispers.
A small smile creeps onto both of your faces. There’s no need for words—you already know what the other wants to say. That’s why you’ve always found solace in Jeonghan. He’s your sunset at the end of a long day. Your constant.
The moon looks a little brighter today with Jeonghan by your side.
Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy
#kvanity#thediamondlifenetwork#k-labels#svthub#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan angst#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan drabbles#jeonghan fanfic#svt x y/n#svt x you#svt x reader#svt angst#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt drabbles#svt fanfic#svt scenarios#jeonghan scenarios#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen scenarios#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfic
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 100)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (76) / Alexia Putellas x Character (52) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (29)
Masterlist (other parts here)
Appreciate you all coming along on this 100 chapter journey with me!
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Follow the link below for the following:
LUMOS BY JAE - Join our little BRAND NEW online community on Discord! Come along to chat and hang out, make friends, and follow along with live games. (Updated link as the old one had an expiry!)
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((5.6k))
YFN POV
“I need it to be perfect.” She said frustrated and a little disheartened. She read through her notes again, skimming along with her finger.
A strong hand took hers and gently lowered it. She willingly fell into the comfort of Lucy’s deep, green eyes. “Little one, it is perfect. You’ve made sure of that.”
“And the book-”
Lucy put her hand on the book to hold it down before she could pick it up and overanalyse every word. She paused to smile at the words on the front before she spoke. “The book too. Both are perfect.”
“I don’t know…”
“Don’t make me call Ridley.”
YFN crossed her arms at the threat. “Go on then.”
Lucy chuckled and shrugged, taking out her phone. She pressed call and put it on loud speaker, staring at YFN as if waiting to stop her. But she was stubborn, after all.
“Bronze. How’s doing?”
“I’m alright, just need your help with something. You busy?”
“I have a Spaniard between my legs, but go ahead.”
The sound of Alexia telling her off in the background was amusing. It sounded as if they were fighting over the phone before their faces popped up. They were clearly in the pool, Alexia lounging between Ridley’s legs and both very topless it seemed.
“We are swimming,” Alexia said in her cute Spanish accent. “Don’t listen to her.”
YFN chuckled. She always loved to see how happy they were. “I’m surprised to see you back already.”
“I missed home.” She said, exchanging a look with Alexia. “And I wasn’t lying but hey, we can Facetime you later on when it gets more sexual if you really want.”
“Riddlesss.” YFN warned to her cheeky grin.
“I’m jooooking. Christ. I’m a one woman type of girl. Voyeur elsewhere Bronze.”
“How the fuck did I get roped into this?!” Lucy defended.
The trio chuckled.
“What can I help you with?”
“YFN won’t stop trying to change the speech. She’s insisting it’s not perfect. I figured you’d have the right thing to say.”
Ridley shrugged nonchalantly. “Perfection is subjective.”
YFN’s mouth dropped open slightly. How had she not thought of that?
“And, before you start big-braining around whose perception of perfection is more important, just remember that you’re emotionally involved and biased having spoken to Mark and written both the book and your speech, so our perception is more pure. We are the audience, after all.” She got closer to the phone. “And baby… believe me when I say it’s perfect.”
She felt her lower lip tremble.
Ridley smiled at the look on her face. “That’s my girl. Now don’t you two have better things to be doing?”
“Speaking of perfect,” Lucy answered. “I do have the perfect day planned. First things first, I need you to put on this blindfold.”
“That is our time to leave.” Alexia said.
“Aw, sure we can't stay and watch?” Ridley asked.
“Goodbye you two.”
“See you tomorrow!” YFN said warmly.
The day was perfect, by any standard. Sex in the morning. A phone call with their friends. A surprise picnic in the park where they kicked around a football and then laid around, napping and reading their books. By the time the sun began to set, they packed their things back into the car and wandered hand in hand down towards the coast.
She’d been so distracted by their conversation and flirting that she hadn’t even realised where they were headed.
“So there’s the event and then the business afterparty, and then we can all catch up for food and drinks after while the footballers have a few days off..” she rambled, not knowing they’d stopped.
She looked up at Lucy who seemed to be smiling down at her, patiently listening and waiting for her to realise where they were. Turning, she saw the beach she’d met Jordan on. The exact same spot. The little alcove between the bushes, staring out over the sun setting.
“Oh, Luce…”
Lucy sat and pulled YFN down in between her legs, cradling her there. Taking in the moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in and out. The sea breeze whipped a few strands of hair out of her messy bun, which Lucy tucked behind her ear. YFN opened her eyes to look at the last rays of daylight as the wind shifted. A storm was coming – she could feel it. She smiled and looked up at the darkening clouds. She loved the feeling of the darkness creeping in, and the storm. She was unsure whether it was the potential violence of it, or the uncertainty, but she still loved it nonetheless. She felt comfortable in that space. Leaning back, she felt the warm comfort of Lucy. How much things had changed..
She looked around the beach and saw nobody. Sparing a thought for Jordan then, and where she was now, made her smile. How good the country had been to her.
They stayed for an extended period, until the sun had fully set and the sky was overcast with dark, angry, yet comforting clouds.
“It’s getting cold, my girl.” Lucy murmured into her ear.
She nodded, having thought the same herself. “It’s time to go.”
They walked up the beach and ascended the stairs as the wind worsened. She turned to look one last time before they headed back towards their car. Halfway back it began raining suddenly. Large, heavy droplets of water soaked them in an instant, though they weren’t too concerned. Laughing, they ran to the closest shelter they could find.
Lucy grabbed her by the waist and backed her into the little alcove, her eyes darkening. Fuck, she looked good when she was wet.
Unable to resist, she reached up to tangle her fingers in her soaked hair and drag her head down to hers. It would never get old, kissing Lucy. She was talented in everything she did, including intimacy. She pressed her body up against her offering her no escape, something YFN obsessed over, and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. They tongues met and she moaned into the taller woman’s mouth. She tightened her grip on her jacket in response to Lucy’s thigh pressing up against her and Lucy moaned in return.
“F…fuck. Little one.” She gasped, pulling away slightly. “Not here, it’s too public.”
“You really want to stop?” She challenged, pressing herself harder against Lucy's thigh, rocking slightly into it as her mouth found the soft flesh under her chin and sucked.
Lucy groaned.
“Fuuuuck. More.”
YFN hummed at the power she had over her, rocking her hips and getting the pleasure she needed from the friction of rubbing against her.
“Arghhh.”
Her hand let go of her jacket and slipped down, taking Lucy’s and guiding it up under her own. Lucy didn’t need any guidance from there, her hand kneading her naked breast, thumb brushing over the peak.
“I need.. I..”
“Mmn, what do you need, Luce?”
“I need you.”
“Then take me home and have me.”
Lucy pulled back and seeing that look in her eyes, she knew just what the rest of their night held. “Mmn.” She looked around to make sure no one was looking, and realised the rain had eased off just slightly. “Let’s get home. I need you.”
Chuckling, the two disentangled and Lucy took a slight step back, waiting for YFN who was looking around with a sentimental expression.
“Luce?”
“Ready?”
“I… do you realise where we are?”
Lucy looked around confused and then it hit her. “Oh… it’s... where we met.” That first evening with Jordan, and the rain. “If only I’d known.”
“Known what, Luce?” She murmured with pure happiness at the significance of where they stood.
Lucy took her hand and raised it, kissing the gold band she was so proud of. “That I’d met my wife.”
JORDAN POV
Jordan was finishing the last of her stretches on the balcony outside their London apartment when Blu came bounding out from the kitchen to involve himself. He’d been running between the two of them, excitedly padding around with his short little legs, and was beginning to get tired.
Jordan felt his tongue lick her cheek and chuckled. She grabbed him and rolled into her back, raising him over her like he was Simba. He loved that. His little legs moved as if swimming and he shook with excitement.
Jordan sat up and cuddled him to her chest, giving him a kiss on the head and looked inside through the glass doors to where Leah was watching them with a smile and a spatula awkwardly in her hand. She wasn’t a cook by any means, though she was trying, and that’s all that mattered to Jordan.
The slightly older woman released him and he bounded back inside to his other mother. She was on cooking duties today, though Jordan was just about to go in and keep her company.
She rolled up her gym mat and stepped inside, putting it back in its place and wandering over to where the delicious smell was coming from.
“Need any help?” She asked.
Leah turned and gave that genuine smile of hers. “Want to keep my company?”
“Of course.”
Without a hesitation, Leah picked the smaller woman up and sat her down on the edge of the countertop. “You can just stay right there, then. I have this under control... I think.”
“It smells amazing.”
Leah stirred the pot and then stood with her back against Jordan’s chest. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her legs and arms around her, kissing her cheek a few times. “Those lessons have been coming in handy, it seems.”
“I still can’t believe you went and did that.”
Leah shrugged and turned to steal one of the cheek kisses with her lips. “It was for us. Of course I did.”
Jordan happily hummed and rested her chin against Leah’s slightly taller shoulder. “What is it?”
“Just this… us. It’s all very domestic.”
“Well I’d like to think so after we had to convert the third bedroom into our closet.”
Jordan chuckled. “Hey, my place isn’t much better. Lucky YFN is living in London full-time with Lucy now – her room has almost more clothes than this one! She barely has room when she stops in for a few nights.”
“God, I just want to live with you already.” Leah grumbled, turning and resting her forehead against her collarbone. Being the only person who Leah let comfort her was not lost on Jordan. “Why can’t we have that?”
“One more season..” Jordan reminded, reassuringly stroking her back. “And then I’ll move to London.”
“Just let me move there, Jord.” Leah almost pleaded. It wasn’t the first time.
“I’d never let you choose me over Arsenal. It’s one year.. what’s one more season?”
Leah groaned, ditching the spatula to wrap her arms around her. “One more season away from my wife.”
A shiver ran down her spine. She loved when she called her ‘wife.’ It was even better than seeing it around social media. Leah and Jordan Williamson-Nobbs. They’d decided to hyphenate rather than choose like their friends.
“I’ve already begun to do some work with YFN.. can you give me one more season?”
Leah pulled back to study her. “Of course. Of course. I don’t mean to pressure you at all, I’m just being needy.”
Jordan draped her hands over her shoulder. “I love it when you’re needy.”
“Yeah?” She whispered, kissing her softly. Just tasting…
“One more season with a Christmas holiday in amongst it... this time with your folks. And as for the neediness, I say we Facetime more and pay your therapist extra.”
“Poor girl.” Leah chuckled.
“Until then, let’s make the most of it...” Jordan mumbled, pulling her close. Leah grabbed at Jordan’s oversized clothes, tugging her to the edge of the bench and sliding her hands under to feel her. Their mouths connected and as they did so, Jordan smelled burning. Looking over Leah’s shoulder, she saw the pot begin to bubble over the edge.
This wasn’t exactly unusual, even when Leah was watching it.
Instead of telling her, she smiled into her mouth and let herself enjoy the taste and feel of her for a few more seconds, knowing their night would probably end like it usually did…. with takeaway.
ALEXIA POV
Alexia dodged left to avoid an incoming Mapi. She used her body to protect the ball from Ona before dodging right and kicking to Caroline on the far side. With the defenders' attention now away from her, she chased forward quickly, pushing her legs to outrun them as she pointed to the spot where she wanted it.
Alexia yelled for the ball. Caroline kicked. The ball came directly to where she’d pointed of course, unimpeded even by Ona sliding through. Alexia’s boot connected exactly where she’d wanted it to, left foot and straight into the top right corner. Cata leapt and missed by barely an inch.
Perfect.
Alexia felt the grin lighting up her face at that glorious sound of the ball hitting the back of the net. The final whistle blew just as it did so and before she could really react properly, her training team swarmed around, all trying to get a piece of her. She usually didn’t let her team celebrate her too hard, but this felt special.
Everything was good.
“Yes, Alexia!” Keira yelled from behind her as she grabbed her.
“LA REINAAAAA!” Patri yelled into her ear far too loudly.
She felt her body being shook from every direction and tried to let herself enjoy it for once.
“That’s it for today!” Pere called to the team. “Well done to Alexia’s team. Go enjoy your event and I’ll see you all on Monday.”
The girls gave their thanks in amongst the celebrations, as the rest of the team came over to congratulate them.
“You want to take my trophies away again, huh?” Aitana joked.
“God, you shot so quick,” Ona smiled, genuinely happy for her friend.
She heard a person whistling in celebration and rolled her eyes. “Okay okay, enough celebrating now.” Alexia said, yet unable to stop her grin.
“Oh, that wasn’t us,” Mapi teased, jerking her head towards the sidelines.
Alexia’s heart jumped as she looked over and spotted Ridley sitting on the fence. She was back, and looking as relaxed as ever with Alexia’s sunglasses on, her legs slightly spread and a proud looking smile on her face as she watched from afar patiently with Chiquito sitting by her side.
Alexia tried to ignore the teasing from her group. Chiquito looked up at Ridley and then back to Alexia in a sort of question.
“Chiquito!” Alexia called.
He didn’t need to be called twice. The little, fluffy grey cat abandoned his spot to trot over to where Alexia and the girls were standing. She bent down to pick him up, saying her hellos before he was kidnapped by the rest of team. He’d become somewhat of a team mascot, having been around them all so often.
Alexia smiled as she watched him share the love and attention of the girls around, though her attention was now elsewhere as her feet took her towards her Australian.
As she reached her, she parted her legs further with her hands, her palms sliding up the bare skin of Ridley’s thighs and wrapping around her back. She tried to withhold the urge to groan at the comfort of it. Of her.
Her warmth. Her smile. Her touch. Alexia’s home. Ridley held her softly, leaning her head against Alexia’s and presumably watching the girls play with Chiquito over her shoulder.
“Congratulations, my girl.” She murmured in Catalan. “Amazing, as always.”
Alexia hummed against her, happy that she’d seen it. She’d never been the type to be too publicly affectionate, though that had shifted slightly with her relationship with Ridley, especially after their headline-making event with Bashir. Now she wanted to be near her wherever she was. It was such a strange, lovely feeling to have her on the sidelines at games, sitting amongst her family, and at training, talking to her teammates.
“You’re back..” she murmured into her, happy that she didn’t have to wait until that night to see her.
“Mmn. I saw an opportunity to come home earlier and I took it.”
That sent a nice shiver up Alexia’s spine for multiple reasons. Not only the fact that she’d called her ‘home’ but that she’d left her military family who she was so close to, just to come home earlier to her.
Alexia squeezed a little harder before pulling back to see her face. Ridley moved her sunglasses to the top of her head and tucked the sweaty strands of Alexia’s now more brunette looking hair behind her ears. She looked at the scar the bullet had left her with, cutting from just above her eyebrow and disappearing into her hairline. It was now a faded pink colour and looking less aggressive every day. She reached up to stroke it with her thumb, forever grateful that it hadn’t been deeper.
Ridley let her play with it, closing her eyes as Alexia’s thumb moved down and across the one on her cheek. She caught her hand as it reached her jaw and turned her head to kiss the pad of her thumb, and then her thumb, palm, wrist.
“Ready to go home?”
Before she could answer, the girls came over. “What time are you picking us up tomorrow?” Keira asked, handing Chiquito back to Alexia.
“Will we be flying in the Barca plane you bought for us?” Patri interjected.
“First of all, the bus will pick you all up from here at 9am. Secondly… Alexia wouldn’t let me buy anything. Barca has a long-term lease on that plane from my company instead.”
She pouted as if she were unhappy, but she’d still managed to work her way around the problem, of course. Alexia’s stomach fluttered at the cocky look in her eyes.
“But no..” Ridley continued and then chuckled. “No, we’ll be in something much faster and less conspicuous. Management don’t exactly want unnecessary trips while Lucy and Mariona’s faces are still on the plane.”
“You’d think they would have planned ahead.”
“It’s not like I didn’t warn them..” she murmured cheekily. “But never mind that, I’m here to take this one off your hands.”
“At least let her shower first!” Ona exclaimed as a few more of the girls came over.
Alexia stayed quiet as usual and turned to Ridley who looked her up and down with a smirk. “I think I’ll shower her myself at home.”
She rolled her eyes, having expected her to say something similar. “Do you mind waiting? It’s been a really hot day and I want to get these sweaty clothes off me as soon as I can.”
Ridley looked her up and down, seeming to enjoy the enjoying the ‘sweaty clothes’ and gave her a calm but hungry look. Like she hadn’t seen her in a week. Which was about accurate. “I’d wait forever for you.”
Alexia tried to hide her smirk and ignore the teasing noises from her teammates as she took a step back. She was eager to get showered and back home with her. As she’d expected, Ridley moved to follow, sliding off the fence and entering her personal space again. She was slightly taller which meant Alexia had to look up to see that smirk of hers.
A week was the longest they’d been apart since before the island. She could barely keep her hands off her now let along the thought of when they finally got home.
The group made their way into the changing rooms for their showers. Alexia forced herself to go slowly, knowing how frustrating it would be for Ridley, and even though she was annoyingly good at hiding it, Alexia was slowly getting to know her little tells of frustration and impatience. The shifting of her weight onto one foot, the clasped or pocketed hands as if to hold them back from reaching, her head tilt to overcompensate and remind herself to slow down.
Alexia checked herself in the steamed mirror one more time and dropped the towel in the basket as she left the showers. She walked into the changing rooms to see an array of her half-naked teammates all in different stages of dressing and talking. Her eyes found her locker and below it was Ridley sitting calmly, her eyes on Chiquito alone as he sat on the table in the middle of the room with multiple people patting him. The small smile on her face showed how proud she was of him.
Alexia’s first step into the room was met with was Ridley’s eyes flicking to her. Her head tilted as she looked her up and down. Regardless of how turned on she was, she knew the one thing they both wanted more than anything. A hug. She guessed her need to touch and show love was that Spanish side of her, but for Ridley it was different. She wasn’t necessarily a touchy person, unless it was with Alexia. It seemed to be growing on her as a comfort, and so it was never a thing that the Spaniard shoved aside or refused.
Alexia walked right up to the Australian, her knees in between her own and leant over her completely as she put her clothes away. She felt Ridley chuckling into her chest as she did so, gently grasping the backs of her thighs as if to hold her there.
“Ready to go home?” Alexia mimicked from earlier, looking down at her.
Ridley held up Alexia’s car key. “I’ll drive.”
“9am sharp!” Ridley called out to the girls as she drove off.
Alexia reached out to play with her hair as Ridley pet Chiquito who was curled up in her lap.
“He missed you..” she murmured.
“I missed you both.”
“Will you need to go back soon?”
“The team will handle the clean up, Lex. There’s no talk of needing me back anytime soon.”
Alexia hummed happily at that until she spotted a gash with dried blood behind Ridley’s ear. She inspected it with her fingertips. Before she could speak, Ridley did.
“I wasn’t on the front line, Lex, I promise. Wombat got a little too carried away with the working out.” She said calmly, making Alexia chuckle at the image. Since the incident with Bashir, she’d promised to not go front line again unless it was absolutely necessary for her team, or others. “Besides, you already know this. I know you and Duce talk behind my back. What a rat.”
“I like her.”
“She’s just trying to stay in your good books. They’re still getting used to knowing a bit of my personal side.”
“A bit?”
She rolled her eyes. “The biggest part of my personal side.”
“I’m very likeable, you know.”
“Jesus, I’m back for thirty minutes and I’m already copping it.”
“Of course. Someone needs to remind you that not everything is about you.”
Ridley’s mouth dropped open slightly which amused Alexia to no end. She loved every time she surprised her. It was rare.
Before she could get her composure, Alexia reached over and closed her mouth for her.
Ridley’s jaw twitched in amusement and she shook her head. “You’re a pain, you are.”
“You wouldn’t like me so much if I were easy.” She shrugged. “And besides, I’m your pain.”
She hummed in agreement. “That you are. And just to be clear, I’m not surprised you two like each other.”
“It doesn’t bother you at all..?”
“Honestly? The opposite.” She pulled up in front of Ridley’s house which they now shared, and turned to her. Alexia fell into those dark eyes of hers gladly and tightened the hold she had on her thigh. “It doesn’t bother you that I talk to your family often?”
Although she’d been hesitant at first, Ridley had eventually slipped into the fold of the family. It was a bit impossible not to with them, especially after they’d bombarded her at Christmas. “The opposite.”
After they’d made up for a week apart, the pair had spent the rest of their day snacking by the pool. It had been incredible to have a longer pool for the rehab and recovery of her knee back to a solid form. Ever since, she’d made it a habit to do pool workouts a few times a week. Ridley usually watched, sitting and reading a book or playing with a guitar as she did so. She’d been interested and invested in her rehabilitation and everything that went into it.
Ridley was also getting used to being in a relationship. Allowing herself to love and be loved. The island had been a start, but Alexia had known that. She’d never complained, though. They’d always communicated their needs and fears, no matter how difficulty, and were growing together.
It meant a lot less independence, and more teamwork. Less decision and more compromise. This included Ridley adjusting to become more physical. Able to touch, instead of look respectfully from afar. This meant pushing aside that military side of her which needed her hands free. Learning to be the one to initiate contact. To get used to sleeping with that warmth and skin to skin contact.
It also meant that as Alexia sat at the shallow end of the pool, Ridley could come up behind her, dipping her legs into the cool water either side of the Spaniard and cradle her arms around her, stroking her arms with her fingertips, her neck with her mouth.
Both of them had been rather hesitant with it – the worry of falling too deep – though they’d both had a realisation on the night that Bashir had died as to just how far they were in it already. There was no safety net now. They were all in, together.
“It’s almost 4pm,” Ridley murmured in Catalan as her lips explored along her cheek.
Alexia didn’t answer, because she was more than happy right there instead. She kept her eyes closed, head tilted back as she enjoyed the feel of Ridley everywhere. She could feel herself getting wet, even in the water, and her nipples hardening almost to the point of pain.
“Alexia,” she said again, this time in a more warning tone. Her movements stopped and she covered her cold nipples with her palms. The warmth was glorious. “Your interview.. and I don’t like how cold you’re getting.”
She opened her eyes and realised that the sun had set so low that they were fully covered in shade.
Alexia finished with her interview after an hour and wandered through their large house, in search of Ridley. Although it was very comparable to the way it was when she’d first moved in, due to their similar tastes, it now held pieces of herself also. Jerseys and trophies and sentimental pieces here and there. It felt more like them together, rather than just one of them.
She checked by the pool, the office, her art studio, the library, their bedroom. She checked her bedside table for the passport she’d need the next day and found it exactly where she’d left it, with Ridley’s note tucked into it. Smiling, she put it back and turned to see Chiquito at the door. He must have been spending time with her, as he’d missed her the past week.
“Take me to her…”
Ever the intelligent cat, he turned and led Alexia to the last place she could be if she was still in the house.
There by herself in the darkened studio, was Ridley. Her headphones were around her neck, her hand resting on a keyboard and eyes closed as she listened to the track back, presumably checking a note or lyric. It sounded perfect to Alexia. Something she hadn’t heard before. If she had to describe it, it would be… obsession, and adoration.
Although it was dark, she could still see the silhouette of her face, the emotions written across it as it slightly changed with each part of the song.
Just before it ended, Ridley opened her eyes as if she knew she was there. Her lips tilted up at the confirmation and watched Alexia as she listened to the end of the song with her. From the look on her face, she didn’t even need to ask what the song was about.
It was hers.
YFN POV
YFN shook with nerves as her Lumos team introduced her to the stage. She looked at the clicker in her left hand and the notes in her other, pausing as she decided to leave the latter behind. She knew what she wanted to say.
She walked onto the stage accepting the applause as it rang through the crowd.
“Really good job up there.” She praised her team as they passed each other. They gave her proud smiles and “good lucks” as she took centre stage and stopped to take a breath.
She pressed the clicker and turned to see the new company logo once again adorning the screen.
“We here at Lumos began with so much drive and passion that we forgot to introduce ourselves. Tonight, we remedy that. Good evening, my name is YFN, and it’s my honour to be the first to introduce you to Lumos – the first women’s sports media titan.” She took another breath to steady her heart. “When we started twelve months ago, we had one goal: to change the narrative, to give women’s sports the recognition, respect and platform it deserves and tonight, I’m proud to say we’ve taken our first bold steps and accomplished what no one has before. Lumos is now the primary media outlet for women’s football, covering all the top leagues across the globe with plans to expand into all women’s sports in the future. This is just the beginning, but what a beginning it has been!”
She paused to hear that warm, encouraging applause filling the room. Her gaze briefly met Lucy’s proud look in the crowd which steadied her, as well as Alexia and Ridley’s. Ridley being proud of her meant more than she realised and she felt so supported, surrounded by the people she loved most.
“Tonight, we want to share our story with you – not just where we’ve been, but where we’re going. You’ll see the heart of Lumos – our culture, aspirations, and our commitment to innovation and inclusion. You’ll see our platforms, culture, charity and philanthropic initiatives. But for now, more than anything, you’ll see the power of collaboration. This moment, and everything leading up to it, would not have been possible without the extraordinary women who live and breathe the game. Female footballers, and their fans from around the world have trusted us with their stories, their triumphs, their challenges. Their voices have shaped what we are unveiling tonight, and their courage continues to inspire everything we do.”
She paused to look at Mark, his cheek twitching as he realised who she was referring to. She softened her tone as she continued at that heart of her message.
“Lumos is more than a media company. It’s a mission. And at the core of that mission is a promise to shine a light on every untold story, to give a platform to the overlooked, and to honour the dreams and passions of those who came before us. At the heart of Lumos stands a charity dedicated to the legacy of a young girl who shared the same passions and dreams as we do. Her legacy is our promise: to stand for hope, inclusion and possibility.”
She let the weight of her words linger as the room fell into a deeper silence. Then, with quiet strength, she began her conclusion.
“And to begin our journey, comes the launch of our book… a prequel of our life so far, if you will. It is a reflection of the journey we’ve all taken together. From the friendships, to the love stories, football, the headline-making incidents, footballers, and to the charity at the heart of us. This book is about believing in the power of possibility, about working for something greater than ourselves. We’re here because we believe women’s sports can inspire and unite the world because women too, deserve the spotlight.”
She pressed the clicker in her hand and saw the screen behind her reflecting on the crowd and it were as if the world slowed as they stood to cheer. She took as much of it in as she could, appreciating the moment and all of the hard work she’d put into making the moment what it was. Her eyes flickered over the people in the crowd from Lumos who had made it possible, over Kate and a still unsuspecting William as he clapped for a company he had no idea his wife had created. She looked over the footballers, Katie, Caitlin, Kyra, footballers from Arsenal, Barcelona, and such. Alexia and Ridley were sat at the front with proud smiles alongside Lucy who was clapping loudest of all. She chuckled lightly at that and tried to hold back her tears.
After she took it all in, she smiled and turned to the giant screen behind her which was illuminated with a simple title: Sunsets and Footballers by YFN Bronze.
#woso#womens football#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso soccer#woso x reader#lionesses#engwnt#lucy bronze#woso smut#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader#alexia putellas#fcb femení#barca femeni#fc barcelona#barca#barcelona femeni#fc barca#leah williamson#jordan nobbs#aston villa women#arsenal women#sunsetsandfootballers
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Tough conversations and good distractions
M reader
Cast: Yizhuo, Aeri, Yooyeon (not mentioned often)
Tags: smut, top reader, cheating, angst, marrital issues, drama, multi part series
WC: 3.8k
This felt like a repeat of how your parents argued. Your tie feels tight around your neck, this is what you never wanted to feel at any point in your adult life.
Your marriage was going through a rough patch for a while. Like, a seriously long while.
Yizhuo and yourself had been together for almost a year now, and at the beginning of your marriage you felt like nothing could go wrong. Of course, the honeymoon period didn't last long.
It's not like you try your best to fix it either in all honesty. You work in a fast-paced corporate job and the last thing you need to come home to is your wife asking you incessantly about who you've been conversing with and other questions you feel like you answered a million times.
You don't like to lie but distractions were needed to help keep you in your right mind.
“Baby, for the last time. The only one I have my eyes on is you. I swear it.” You learned to give that speech almost every time she felt insecure. It was getting over used, you might need to paraphrase it soon.
On top of Yizhuo’s knack for insecure behaviour, you have to deal with her family's high expectations. You're the vice president of your older brother's company but that wasn't enough for your in-laws. They wanted you to start your own company, be risky but that just wasn't who you were. You're a laid back guy who enjoys doing his job and one hell of a good one at that and getting paid without making any huge decisions that could affect other people at large.
“God, I just don't understand why you can't talk to me! You act like I'm not here for you when I tell you that you can always talk to me.” You want to roll your eyes at her words. Yizhuo would look impeccable if it weren't for the fact that you thought she had gone deaf in one ear.
“No sweetheart, I said that I simply have nothing to talk about, not that I can't talk with you.” You say gripping the dinner table you're currently leaning back on as your wife sits on the couch away from you. Yizhuo had been pressing you for answers on why you were so quiet these days but you just weren't up for it.
She licks her lips, her tongue sliding over her plump bottom lip and squeezing her eyes tightly as she blinks, as if she was calming herself down.
“I just have been…. Hearing things.” She starts.
“What things, Yizhuo?” You say her name, which makes her shift in her seat. Now she's rubbing her hands as if she's going to hear heartbreaking news.
“I've heard… that you've been seeing another woman. Specifically, that new girl on your work team.” Oh lord. You want to rip your hair out. ‘Is she seriously accusing me of sleeping with a university intern that I haven't even met?’ Your thoughts laugh at the situation, it's hilarious at this point.
The person she should worry about is the one closest to her.
“Oh really? And who told you that? Your little spy Aeri? She barely knows left from right and how many times has she been wrong about shit like this? Huh? Drop it, Yizhuo. I'm serious.”
You were dead serious, tired and not in the mood to be playing bullshit with your wife this early in the morning right before work. “Fine! But I still don't get why you just can't say ‘No honey, I'm not cheating’. Why can't you just say that to me?” Yizhuo says, throwing her hands up in defeat as she gets up to head to your shared bedroom.
A sigh leaves your mouth. This has gotten ridiculous. “You know what? I don't think that no matter what I say or do you're ever going to believe me. That's why, Yizhuo. So I'm going to work now and I would recommend you to drop this nonsense before I get home.”
You don't even let her say something back. You grab your work bag, car keys and you're gone with the wind. Now you're in the worst possible mood ever, sorry to all of your coworkers today.
—
“What's up with the VP today? He's crashing out over a few small mistakes.” One of your coworkers whispered in the break room. “Isn't he married to that fine woman? What issues could he have?” Another one said, edged with slight envy.
“Probably just some troubles in paradise. It's their one year mark soon. Everything goes to shit after that, I would know.” A supervisor says, his voice quieting with the last part of his dialogue. As if it was scripted, the workers collectively release a sigh, remembering the way they used to formerly be with their partners.
Of course, there was always someone keeping an ear out for a good conversation—minus the collective sigh at the end—especially when it has to do with someone she's been keeping an eye out for.
You are half near losing your mind. The argument from this morning and now your team was making numerous mistakes regardless of how small they were. ‘Fuck, I need to smoke’ You think getting out of your chair that you'd been glued to for the past four hours. Besides, the air and the person waiting for you will clear your head.
You press the elevator button a few times and that small action makes you wonder just when you have become such an impatient person. You used to love a good wait time especially when you were about to do something you had promised yourself you would never do again. Fortunately, the elevator opens, inviting you to enter it and whisk yourself away from the stress of your life.
“Hold it, please!” You hear a feminine voice call out, her heels making a light jog towards the elevator which you hold your arm out, keeping it open. “Thank you so much. I wasn't ready to wait another 10 minutes for the elevators.” The black haired girl breathes out and you chuckle nodding your head at her.
“I hear it. I still can't believe they only have two elevators for a fifteen floor building.” You say, getting a better look at the woman who's in a neat pencil skirt and a button up shirt. “What's your name? Haven't seen you before.” You mention extending your hand to the woman.
She takes your hand shaking it. “The names Yooyeon. Don't bother introducing yourself, I think we'll end up seeing each other more often.” Just then the elevator opens cueing her leave. Yooyeon waves as she steps off the elevator. You watch her walk away. Your eyes are unnecessarily narrowing down on her ass as the elevator closes.
You breathe out a sigh, it has been a while since you had an easy going conversation with someone. You think for a split second just as you enter the rooftop. “Well well well, look who we have here.” You hear a sensual voice purr.
“Oh my, is that my wife's makeshift CIA investigator? Goodness, what do I owe the pleasure, Aeri.” You say sarcastically walking beside the woman, pulling out a cigarette to which Aeri lights it up for you. The woman dangerously close, you can smell her Chanel perfume as her eyelashes bat at you.
“Oh dear, have I ruffled your feathers on such a pleasant morning, sir?” She says, coyly placing her hand on the lapel of your suit. You remove her hand and breathe out your smoke onto her face. “Do you find yourself happy confusing my wife?” She fans the smoke away from her and smiles at you, if it were anyone else they would have misunderstood her smile as a genuine one.
“I enjoy it just as much as you like filling me up.” Her words make you clench your jaw. Your hand that does not have a cigarette lodged between two fingers grips her face. “Watch that mouth. You're much more careless than I thought.” Aeri only grips your blazer and throws your hand away from her face.
You breathe in smoke again, holding it in and then you blow it out. You know what's going to happen after this. You know you can't trust yourself with this woman, and she knows that just as well as you do. So you step out your cigarette and press your lips against hers. Aeri meets you with fervor and passion.
“You know you can't get enough.” She whispers haughtily, confident in herself. Unfortunately, you know she's right and so you burst out laughing to her confusion. Aeri almost gets the chance to ask you what's wrong with you but you kiss her again. Your tongue running over her lips, sucking on her bottom lip, and just like that Aeri feels like she's the only one in the world. Pressing chaste kisses all over her lips and then you slide your tongue into her mouth. You hear her release a moan, a pretty one at that. It rings in your ear, letting you grip the back of her neck pushing her as close as you possibly could.
It's an addiction, one that feels so good, one that you doubt you could stop. So you don't. You're driving Aeri to one of her father's numerous hotels to check in to so you can take your fingers out of her cunt and stick something else in.
“Fuck- drive faster, you piece of shit.” The name calling makes you scoff. “Didn't I tell you to watch your fucking mouth earlier?” You curl the pads of your fingers to hit her spot. Aeri's back arches, the back of her hand falling lightly over her mouth as she tears up. Finally, you achieve your desired silence minus the moans and ‘Fuck’ and ‘Mm right there’ ‘s coming from Aeri's mouth.
Unfortunately, you reach your destination all too quickly. You slide your fingers out of her sopping folds and she shoots you a glare but nevertheless gets out of the car, walking a few paces ahead of you. The receptionist is used to the two of you and your monthly rendezvous with the Chairman's daughter.
“Don't take so long, you know what we're here for and I’d rather not spend more time with you than I'd like to.” Aeri says, as you zip her black short dress down. You roll your eyes and push her onto the bed without much regard for her. You throw off your blazer and pull your tie off only to unbutton the first button. You crawl closer to her, you bury your face into her neck, pressing a hot kiss against her pale skin.
By the time you're done making love with her neck, your belt has been unbuckled and your pants are off. Aeri's fingers pull the waistband of your boxers down with some help of yourself. “Come on, put it in.” She whines into your ear, you aim your length at her entrance but don't do as the vixen wants.
“So fucking whiny for it, why don't you beg? Act a little cute for me, won't you? It's been so hard calming my wife down because of your evil whispers.” Aeri stiffens at the mention of Yizhuo. You can see her eyes flicker, you wonder if that's if she feels bad or if she doesn't like how much you're talking.
But the thought of reality doesn't last long before you feel Aeri press her dainty and magically gorgeous hand on your chest pushing you down onto your back. Aeri unbuttons the rest of your blouse at a torturously slow speed, which you would never admit turned you on a bit. She presses hot kisses down your torso starting at your jaw, so near to your lips and further down she went.
As a natural occurrence would have it she landed just where your lower stomach is. Her tongue flat against your stomach, giving it small kisses and kitten licks. You just wish she'd go a bit lower so you hold a hand to the back of her head and try to escort her way to your hard, pre cum leaking cock.
“You want me to suck on him? Act a little cute for me, won't you?” Referring to your cock as ‘him’ and the sarcastic repetition of your words. The two of you lock eyes for a moment before you feel the need to kiss her again. So you do as you desire but not before you get what you want.
You wrap a hand around your cock and push it closer to her lips. Aeri looks up at you and you tilt your head slightly with a pout on your lips, as your back rests against her head board. She gives in to your little show and wraps her lips around your tip, her tongue makes small circles around the head before letting more of your length slide into her mouth. You suck in a deep breath as you feel Aeri apply suction.
Your hand naturally returns to the back of her neck politely urging her to take more of your shaft. Aeri knows the desperation that you're displaying and she enjoys it but more than anything she enjoys seeing you crumble, that mask of being the all responsible, perfect family man and vice president just falls off under her touch.
Though this is something that she knows will never last forever, she gives in taking you into the back of her throat. She takes your cock whole, letting it hit the back of her throat and she lets her mouth head back to the tip. Aeri repeats this over and over. No regard for the way she’ll probably gag at having you so deep.
As if she wants to consume you whole, monopolise you, own you, the greed that she feels is most likely consuming herself but she delusions herself into thinking that she is not affected by the way your eyes are stuck onto hers.
Aeri can feel your hips twitch, as if you’re warning her unconsciously of your orgasm. Her tongue slides over your member, carefully paying attention to it in the most romantic way possible. The poised woman removes your cock from her warm mouth allowing your white hot to land on her face in untimed spurts. Your hand grabs some tissues on the bedside table of the bed to pass to your accomplice. To which she takes and carefully dabs her face, erasing any residue left.
Now you think for a moment, ‘She looks pretty.’ but you don't allow yourself to think any further, after all Aeri would tie a noose around your neck if she knew you had such thoughts, soft thoughts. You lay the woman down on her back, the rest of work would be on your part so you slide on a condom looking down at the woman under you.
“A man with no arms could move faster than you, don’t waste my time.” Aeri spits at you and you scoff at her words, lowering yourself and pressing your cock head against her wet entrance. Her back arches and her arms wrap around your neck as your cock enters her, filling every space in her cunt.
“Fuck, it’s been so long.” You groan as you bury your head into the crook of her neck, your hand slides under the back of her thigh caressing her softly as you fuck her. Aeri’s small swears and loud moans fill the hotel room along with your groans. Your hips rock back into her pelvis, and you can feel Aeri's small movements in an attempt to match your thrusts. You're stretching her out in ways she could never imagine. The tightness of her sopping pussy has you groaning out in awe.
Your eyes are stuck on the way Aeri's breasts move every time you fuck her. You throw her legs over your shoulders and get as close as humanly possible, your face perched between the woman's perfect boobs. Your mouth latches onto one of her nipples, sucking it, licking it, and giving it all your attention and focus. Aeri yelps and mewls, her luxurious sounds of pleasure leaking out of her pretty lips only encourages you to continue working her breasts. But you never forget to hit the deepest part of her pussy, you find yourself unable to stop giving the most concentrated strokes known to mankind.
“Go- god, keep going, you- fuck so perfect for me.” Aeri says as her hands manage to touch your face and bring you to focus on her face, that's contorted in the ecstasy that you bring her. Both of your lips find one another with some struggle of space, yet your tongue slides into her perfectly curated mouth and you spend time working her mouth. “You're the one who's so fucking perfect.” You praise her and you can tell she enjoys the words of affirmation after all, her cunt is tightening around you.
As if you would die if you did not seek pleasure from Aeri you continue to chase your high. Despite hers being long reached, Aeri can only let out gasps and whines asking you to give her a break. “I'll give you a break when you deserve one. I haven't even cum yet.” Your hips jerk again into her and her head falls back. The sounds of her moaning are rivaled by the sounds of your balls slapping harshly against her skin, additionally the wet sounds coming from her pussy. “You're acting like you don't enjoy this, you hear that? Those sounds are all yours. Don't get so fucking arrogant, you whore.” you spit out cruelly, and she responds with a sobbed out apology.
A small smile paints your lips, the feeling of pride swelling in your chest. Who else but you could bring the Chairman's daughter down a notch other than you? If the world was your oyster this is what you would be doing for the rest of your life. “That's what I thought. Don't forget your fucking place. And tell me where your place is?” You egg her on, you know Aeri knows the answer to this question. Her eyes look away from yours and she can only bite her lip. So you stop thrusting for a moment, which causes a whiny mewl to leave Aeri's lips.
“My place is..” she takes her time pronouncing the words. It only increases your satisfaction of watching the proud woman suddenly melt into a girl who only has her eyes on you. “...below you.” A smile slaps onto your face, your hand lands on her hair, caressing her so softly. You know she's waiting for her reward and it's your job to give her what she wants.
You bottom out in Aeri's cunt, filling her up, a cuss falls out of her mouth. Your hand goes under her thighs and pushes her knees beside her head. Your fucking her rough and murderously fast, she's practically screaming. Your cock is hitting a perfect spot, your teeth are gritting together. “This is what good girls get when they act good.” You say, your voice low and deep as Aeri reaches yet another earth shattering orgasm. Yours is on the way soon, with the way your balls are tightening. You slide out of her, you take off your condom, then you push yourself back in.
“No- wait, you can't. That's too-” Your hand falls over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up, I'm not cumming inside of you, dumb whore. I'm just feeling your insides a bit.” And to your expectations, it felt so good, you should've done this from the start. You're orgasming soon though so you slide out your cock again and let yourself finish on her tits and face.
Both of you are panting, completely out of breath. “What's with you today?” Aeri says, obviously annoyed with you, but you couldn't bother to care. “My wife and I have an interview to get to. I'll shower first.” You ignore her question and take a quick peek at your watch that is currently the only piece of clothing you have along with your ring. “Well, since you didn't read the list of interviewees. My father and I are also getting interviewed. We have no time.” You know what Aeri means and you smile.
She rolls her eyes and grabs you by the elbow and leads you to the washroom. Suddenly you feel like you have an extra 20 minutes to spare. So long as you get another blow from her. “Let's get each other clean, Uchinaga.”
—
“Do you know how much we're running late?!” You hear Yizhuo say from the second floor of your mansion. “Honey, we're fine. It's a 25 minute drive.” You were thankful that your limo at least had champagne in there to keep you company as your wife freaks out over the time.
Your eyes catch Yizhuo peeking down at you from the ledge of the stairs. Her face coloured in seriousness with her full lips pursed into an unhappy one. You lock eye contact with her and pull out one of your award winning smiles, the one that you'd use during the interview.
“Get off your phone, and tell the chauffeur to pull around.” Yizhuo's voice is elegant and perfect, and you know she means it. “Now, please.” Though it doesn't sound like Yizhuo is asking, rather she's demanding, and of course you comply. You go outside to see your chauffeur, an older gentleman with grey hair and a heartwarming aura.
“Pull around the limo, the one with alcohol. Thank you, Greg.” He nods at your words with a polite smile on his face, and he's off to get the car. You turn around to go grab your blazer and Yizhuo's fur coat off the couch.
“Sweetheart, thank you for getting my coat. You're perfect.” Yizhuo says, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as you open the door outside for her. “Anything for you, my beloved.” You say, holding the coat open for her to slip on easily, which she does. You throw on your black coat easily. Yizhuo's coat is black fur, befitting of her white cocktail dress.
“You look gorgeous, I'm almost hurt that someone else will see you looking this good.” You compliment, earning a smile and an elegant giggle from your wife. “And all of this will be yours when we get home. As long as you're on your best behaviour.” She says coyly, and you could practically feel your cock hardening under your pants.
You couldn't wait to get this over with, get home and collect your prize. Whether you would live up to deserve it… well we'll find out.
#ning yizhuo#ningning#ningning x reader#giselle x reader#giselle#aeri uchinaga#aespa#aespa x reader#M reader
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More please ♡🩸
Pairing: Vampire!BangChan x Reader Genre: Suggestive (18+. minors/ageless blogs do not interact <3)/Thriller Word count: 2.0k+ Summary: You caught Chan in the middle of his midnight activities, marking the start of an unexpected relationship. Warnings: Kidnapping mentioned, force feeding, grinding, biting, blood (lots of it), small mentions of depression A/N: Railway MV has made me feral and I had an idea. Also hope writing this will cure my writer's block for the San series cause I'm struggling rn. This is more of a drabble and [mostly] proofread. Hope y'all enjoy 🫶 Stray kids masterlist
~~~
“I need more~”
It hurts when Chan bites into your neck. You expected some pain, but not a pain like this. It stings and there’s an ache you can’t begin to describe. But it feels somewhat arousing. Chan on top breathing heavily as he is sucking the life out of you makes you feel something in your core. You forget for a moment that his teeth are sunk in your veins as the agonizing pain turns into pleasure.
It’s hard to say how you got here in the first place. You and Chan had been acquainted since he moved to your neighborhood a few years ago. Nothing he did ever tipped you off that he could be hiding this secret. And Chan had been careful to keep this secret too. Surviving off animal blood, only feasting on human flesh when he needs to. He was sure he would never get caught. Until last night when you decided to take the shortcut path on your nightly walk and stumbled upon the area where Chan does his bidding. You were frozen in fear unsure what to do as Chan looked at you. So he did what any vampire in hiding would. He took you back to his hideout away from the world until he could figure out his next move.
And here you are, under him as he’s making up for his interrupted midnight snack. By now he feels he sufficiently made up for the interruption and slowly removes his teeth from your neck. You feel that stinging pain again and feel a bit faintish. You see out the corner of your eye blood dripping from the two fresh holes. Gross yet arousing at the same time. Chan notices and licks up the excess blood as if he wants to savor your taste. You feel another jolt of pain, but Chan massaging the area with his tongue helps to ease the pain and turns it into more pleasure.
“Your blood tastes so sweet~” Chan growls as he licks the remaining blood and pulls away from you. “I swear I could drink this forever.”
It sure felt like he was going on forever. You even forgot that he did kidnap you and that the bodies of his previous victims surrounded you. Coming back to reality the fear returns to you wondering if that is your fate.
“C-Chan… I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. A-and you can have all the blood you want just please let me go.” You mutter out on the verge of tears.
“Oh I will have all the blood I want, 'cause you’re not leaving here,” Chan responds smiling, baring his sharp teeth now covered in blood. You flinch for a moment thinking he’s going back in for seconds. Chan notices and chuckles in response.
“Don’t worry dear, I won’t hurt you more than I need to. It would be a shame if you died on me.”
~~~
Despite the situation, Chan is pretty gentle with you. Aside from the blood-sucking sessions, he makes sure you’re well taken care of. You find out that the place you’ve been taken to was a castle, somewhere far off in the mountains. You slowly fall in love with the gothic architecture exploring a new room each day. You even have your room, decorated head to toe in the dark gothic aesthetic with a soft queen-sized bed made just for you.
Chan cooks for you every night. At first, you refused to eat the meals, still in fear of what he could do and barely working up an appetite. After a few days of the act, Chan got annoyed and one day took matters into his own hands.
“Come on sweetie, if you don’t eat your blood won’t pump properly and you’ll be weak.” Chan calmly says as he forces a piece of chicken into your mouth. You try your hardest to resist but his vampire strength overpowers you. Tears well up in your eyes and fall on your plate. You want to spit the chicken out but you can’t bring yourself to it as Chan stares at you intensely, wiping the tears away from your cheek.
“Aww don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay. The chicken tastes good right?” Chan coos and you nod in response.
“Good. Then swallow~” Chan commands.
You hesitate for a moment but reluctantly swallow. The chicken wasn’t bad, but you still feel a lump in your throat. You want your body to reject the food so badly but you also hadn’t eaten for days and knew that eventually you would have to give in.
Chan feeds you the rest of the chicken and side dishes. This was the only way you were going to eat for that night, still in fear that he could do much worse. After that day you stopped refusing to eat knowing that Chan wouldn’t hesitate to force-feed you again. You two started having somewhat normal dinners. Chan would talk about his day and sometimes the drama going on at his day job and you would talk about the room you explored that day and your thoughts. Sometimes he would talk about his past life, his experiences, and what it was like being the way he is. These deeper talks made you more intrigued about him. He was slowly peeling back layers revealing his true nature, showing there was some humanity left in those eyes.
~~~
Of course, Chan would still get a taste of your blood now and then. Biting in the same spot, careful not to take too much that you faint, but enough to keep him satisfied for a few weeks. You got used to the pain and a part of you almost looked forward to these sessions. The pure ecstasy you felt with Chan on top and pressed against you as you were helpless under him, you almost didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more from him.
One time you decided to make a bold request to Chan at dinner.
“I want you to suck my blood tonight,” you stated clearly. Chan nearly chokes on his food shocked that you’re taking the initiative this time.
“Y/N, I appreciate the offer and you know I would love that. But I’m fine it’s only been a week.” Chan responds.
“But I want you to! I need that feeling of you sinking your teeth into me. It’s addicting and I want more of it!”
Chan gets up and walks over to your seat and leans towards you.
“I have a better idea sweetie~,” Chan says.
“And what is that?” you respond, desperate for him to do something. Anything.
Chan leans in closer and presses his lips into yours. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate kissing him back. The same feeling of desire is felt between both of you, but more intense than when Chan is stealing your blood. Eventually, you stand up and push him on the table (well, more like he lets you) kissing him deeper and with a passion you’ve never felt. The air feels warm around you, savoring Chan’s taste while your mind’s on cloud 9. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about this. Wondering what his lips would feel like in other areas of your body besides the sensitive vein of your neck.
The burning desire in your core doesn’t settle down and you instinctively grind on Chan’s thigh to get some kind of relief. Chan doesn’t notice drunk on his desire for you, but eventually, he pulls away and places his hands on your hips.
“Feeling a bit needy today I see~” Chan teases.
“Oh you have no idea,” you say shakily, catching your breath.
Chan starts to respond with a witty joke but you sink back into his lips before he responds. You kiss him harder than the first time and the desire builds up in your core harder. The room feels it’s on fire as you and Chan feel each other’s hot breaths and as you continue to grind his thigh. Chan gets so lost in your soft moans that he doesn’t notice his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He presses on your lips harder and his fangs accidentally sink into your lip as you yelp in pain. Shocked by your scream, Chan quickly pulls away from you, but also accidentally knocks over a plate in the process remember that the two of you were making out on the dinner table.
“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry!” Chan says concerned, caressing your lip. The blood quickly drips down from your mouth covering the lower half of your face.
“Chan I’m fine! It didn’t hurt but it was shocking. Maybe… warn me next time,” you respond with a witty tone.
“Funny. But still, don’t want you to lose too much blood.” Chan leans towards your lips again and starts licking up the blood starting from your chin and ending with your bottom lip. He passionately licks every last drop like it’s the last he’ll ever get your blood.
“Say… why don’t we continue this somewhere else,” Chan suggests as he pulls away from you. You look at him hazy with lust and out of the corner of your eye notice a certain desire growing in his pants.
“I think that’s a great idea love~”
~~~
After that erotic night, it felt like time slowed down living with Chan. You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been here. Maybe a couple of months? A little under a year? In your mind, you knew you had to go back to your old life, back to your friends and family. They have probably been looking for you. But in your heart, you didn’t care. Nothing in your life mattered anymore except Chan and his twisted love for you. You would give anything to be with him, to stay with him forever.
One night as the two of you cuddled in bed, you suddenly brought up another proposition.
“Channie, do you think you can… turn me into a vampire?” you ask suddenly.
“W-what?!” Chan says, taken aback.
“I-It’s just an idea. I’ve seen it done a lot in vampire shows. But knowing what I know about you now I don’t know how accurate that is. And I realize that you’re the only one I want to be with for a long time and it would suck dying knowing you would still live on forever…”
Chan is silent processing your request. You give him some time and then follow up with your statement.
“It’s okay if you can’t and I’m probably overthinking this. That’s so far ahead of us and I’m happy spending whatever time we have. I just love you so much and—”
“No no, I can turn you. It’s possible but… are you sure you want this?” Chan says cutting you off. “It’s a dangerous path to take. The constant bloodlust is not easy to control. And there are many days that there will be a numbing feeling you can’t get rid of. Constantly feeling empty and at some point feeling like life isn’t worth it is not something I want for you.”
“I don’t care if I spend the rest of my days hating the world. As long as I’m with you I won’t feel empty. Doesn’t matter if that’s 10 years or the next 1000 years, life with you will always have meaning!”
Another moment of silence passes and Chan pulls you into his chest. He starts stroking your hair as he responds.
“There’s no talking you out of this is there?” Chan sighs.
You giggle into his chest. “I’d do anything to be with you for as long as I can!~”
Chan kisses your forehead. “Then, enjoy your last night being human love~”
You fall asleep into Chan’s arm as he drifts off to sleep. Who knew what the next years would look like for the two of you? You dream of all the potential adventures you two would go on, the lives you would live. It would be chaotic and messy, but that didn’t matter to you. In the end, you can call the man you once feared yours and you were his. And you couldn’t want anything more.
~~~
If you liked this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading!
#stray kids#fanfic#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz imagines#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#stray kids fanfic#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan stray kids#bang chan imagines#bang chan skz#bang chan smut#skz#skz bang chan#bang chan fluff#thriller#vampire fanfiction#vampire au#skz stay#Spotify
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₊⊹⁀➴ TYPES OF FEMALE FRIENDS TO AVOID ⟡﹒⪩⪨ 🥞
You are who you surround yourself with, and that’s why it’s so important to closely monitor your friendships with certain people, especially going into the new year.
1. ‘messy’ friends ୨୧
drama and gossiping is such a low vibrational activity. you should try to minimize it as much as possible in your life and that also means avoiding friendships that center drama as the main focus that brings you together.
additionally, this is a warning to any other girls who may be in this position. we’ve all been there, so, just know that anyone who only ever talks shit abt other ppl with you that calls you a “friends” can be the same person that turns around and shit talks you behind your back as well.
2. friends that talk down on you constantly ୨୧
There is a difference between someone genuinely talking down on you and someone who rude banters with you, though they are closely related. If you rude banter with your friend often and the things they say about you feel like an attack and emotionally charged, SPEAK UP.
Don’t ever let someone talk down on you like that. Just cause their friend doesn’t mean they can’t have ill intentions, and this kind of activity is a way of subtly belittling you. Please communicate with any friends that actively do this and if they can’t change their behavior, drop them!
3. friends with other genuinely horrible people in their life they refuse to remove ୨୧
Again, YOU ARE WHO YOU SURROUND YOURSELF WITH. If these people constantly choose to keep genuinely terrible people as friends, then what makes you think they aren’t the same as them?
Furthermore, it’s just a massive red flag. I’ve had friends of friends who had racist, homophobic friends etc and they still chose to keep them which led to them being dropped. AS THEY SHOULD BE!! a good person wouldn’t enable that shit, tf.
++TIPS FOR DROPPING FRIENDS
If any of these things here resonate with your group of friends, consider dropping them. As somebody who cut off a friend group of 6 that was all mentally and verbally belittling them and fit all of these, here are some of the possible routes!
You can either 1. Slowly start making yourself unavailable to them until the point of no contact, or 2. Flat out leave.
I know how difficult cutting off a group of friends can be, even when you feel like you have NO one else. But trust me. I went through a year of being basically abused by a group of people I thought were my friends and cut them all off, knowing I would have absolutely no one after that. It causes a deep wound that’s hard to heal, like breaking up with a person it’s hard to get over them and just float through the memories.
But it is SO worth it. For your mental health, for your overall perception of yourself and peace, everything!! CUT THEM OFF!! This is your sign.
#bunny’s dollette ♡#coquette#cute#dollygirl#girlblogging#hyper feminine#law of assumption#manifesting#pink pilates princess#sawako kuronuma#affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#dream life#dream girl journey#that girl#becoming that girl#this is what makes us girls#self care#self improvement#wonyoungism#it girl energy#wonyoung#goals#positive energy#this is a girlblog#gaslight gatekeep girlblog#master manifestor#self concept#it girl
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✦ im grateful. — ritsu sakuma.
ritsu swears he would've started crying on stage when knights received their award— being his turn to give the speech and all.
idol life has been especially tough, and if you'd have told him that he, himself would reveal your relationship through an award speech;
he would have laughed in your fuckin' face.
but here he was. in front of thousands of people, facing a crowd that would soon find out he already had a special someone.
winning song of the year with a song he wrote with knights' ex leader wasn't on his 2024 bucket list. don't get him wrong, he was thankful and all, but..
going abroad for a month without you was definitely a hard time for him. you would often shush him and say it'll be over any time soon, but it felt like decades.
especially since they just released a love song. one he thought of, and asked leo to help him write, for you.
technically you helped as well. i mean, you were basically the start of the idea for the song.
which led to the award he was holding shake in his hands, biting down his lip as he looks back at the massive screen, showing knights.
"my last thanks. to.. our wonderful ex leader." ritsu smiles softly, turning his head to look at leo, before nodding at him, handing over the award to him.
the ravenette lets out an awkward laugh, gripping the microphone stand.
"and.. to my significant other. thank you, for helping meee," he pauses, feeling his eyes slowly well up as he sniffles.
and the words that would leave his mouth would forever leave a scar in the music industry.
"i miss you, baby," he mutters into the microphone, releasing a chuckle, hiding his face as soon as he says that, wiping his tears.
the large screen highlighting his face— other knights members surrounding him to comfort him.
glossy eyes, tear stained cheeks, biting his lower lip, as the wind softly blows in their direction.
and finally, he smiles directly at the camera, before getting into a group hug with his members.
! ritsusnotes has added 3 new posts.
“my heart is for you and only you.”
“it's horrible without you.”
“love.”
#ensemble stars x reader#enstars x reader#ensemble stars#ritsu sakuma x reader#ritsu sakuma#enstars ritsu#enstars#jian’s works!#enstars x you#enstars x y/n#enstars smau
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Another prompt for birthday week if you dont mind: Inko tries to get back on Izuku’s good side after abandoning him at her brother Shouta’s place because Izuku is a famous hero. Izuku’s partner cuts her off
Hitoshi just wanted to go to sleep.
It was hardly a new feeling for him. There was little he loved more than sinking onto the nearest semi-flat surface to catch whatever sleep he could after finishing his patrols, made even better when he could coax Izuku to lay with him, so he could soak in their warmth and bury his face in their curls to just breathe them in. But here, standing halfway in one of the second floor windows and making eye contact with familiar green eyes in a very unfamiliar face standing in front of his front door, there was little he wanted more than to be decidedly unconscious.
Instead he sighed as he eased back out the window, making sure to slide it closed before he dropped down to meet their unwelcome guest. The last thing he wanted was the sound to carry and wake Izuku. They needed all the rest they could get before their own patrol started... or someone called in a Code Red that couldn't be solved by anyone else.
Hitoshi shoved his hands in the deep pockets of his jumpsuit, and dipped his head into the coils of his capture scarf, cursing himself for slinging off his persona chords and hanging them from his belt when he caught sight of their home.
"What?"
The woman blinked, seemingly taken aback by the rude demand. Hitoshi couldn't imagine what else she expected showing up on a stranger's doorstep before dawn.
"I want to see my s-- my child."
"Tough. Now leave."
"Excuse--!"
Hitoshi wanted to slam his head into the door, but that would, unfortunately, wake Izuku who would come running to find them on the doorstep. He settled for a bone deep sigh instead. "Look, there's no way in hell I'm letting you see anyone that you might think is in this house, and, no, I will not be passing a message either. It is as a courtesy you do not deserve and out of a deep desire not to do any more work tonight that I am not going to arrest you for trespassing right here. Leave before I decide that having you gone is worth more to me than my dislike of paperwork."
"You can't keep my from my child!"
A flash of anger had Hitoshi barking out a cruel laugh. "Your child? Where?"
"Izuku is--"
"An Aizawa. Or, technically, Shinsou-Aizawa now. You made it damn clear that they weren't your child when you abandoned them, just like they made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with you should you come crawling back now that you think they're suddenly valuable to you. Now I have had a very long night and don't have the patience to hold your hand through what child abandonment means. Get off of my property before I remove you from it. I guarantee I will enjoy the second option far more than you will."
Inko Midoriya huffed as she seemingly decided that whatever her plan was would work better when not in jail for trespassing and stomped her way back down the path. Hitoshi watched until she disappeared around the corner. Waited even longer until his phone buzzed in his pocket.
(How Nezu knew what was going on, Hitoshi didn't want to know. He liked being able to sleep whenever he could manage it, and the politest Not Shovel Talk of his life at sixteen had done enough damage to that already. All he needed to know was Nezu was just as protective over his former personal student as he was.)
Izuku stirred when Hitoshi finally slipped into bed, all sleep-warm skin and pillow lines through their smile as they seemingly tried to climb into him they pressed so close. "What took you so long?" They mumbled into his bare shoulder.
"Nothing important," He promised, pressing a kiss to their curls. "Just an annoyance."
They hummed and moments later their soft snores filled the room once more. Hitoshi smiled before following them into sleep.
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Ficlet-Happy New Year Part 2
Search for "Ficlet" under my blog to read Part 1 :)
This one is Mature 16+
Blitz helps Stolas out of the passenger seat of the van, putting a hand over his head so it doesn't hit the top as he climbs out.
Stolas takes a deep breath. It is nice being in Wrath again. Ever since he started his duty as a teen for the Harvest Moon Festival, he's liked how clear the air is compared to the city. Especially at this time of year at night, it's crisp.
"Come on Blitz, Sallie set up over here on the big blanket!", Millie mentioned, grabbing Moxxie's hand to pull him along. Blitz smiles, looking up at Stolas, "Sure you're still up for this?" he asks. Stolas nods, "Of course. It will be...fun".
Sallie waves, greeting everyone with hugs until she gets to Stolas. She looks put off and steps back, pulling on Millie's sweater, "What's he doing here?"
She explains the situation. Sallie's mouth stays agape for a moment then she physically pushes her jaw back up. Walking over to Stolas.
"Your high-er- Stolas, is it? Welcome to rough n tumble ranch", she extends a hand with a smile. Stolas looks to Blitz who's still smiling and takes her hand, her handshake rough as she pulls on his arm.
"Uh-yes, and you are?" he asks and she replies, "Sallie May". He nods in a small bow and she chuckles and walks back over to Millie, they both sit down.
Blitz pulls Stolas onto the large blanket that's strewn about the dirt ground.
"Your seat for the night?" he gestures and plops down, still holding Stolas's hand.
"No..chairs?" he asks and Blitz chuckles, "Not in the country. Come on, it's better for star watching". As he mentions stars, Stolas's eyes widen and he sits down next to him, sitting on his knees with his talons behind him. Blitz puts an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, which makes his position shift to sitting on his butt.
"Oh!" Stolas yells out then chuckles a little as he steadies himself against Blitz.
Blitz points to the sky as Stolas follows his finger, "Look! You can see the whole damn sky out here", he smiles and Stolas focuses his gaze at the moon, a new moon. He takes another deep breath and grabs onto Blitz's arm, squeezing with both hands.
"Hey-hey you okay?" Blitz asks as he sees Stolas's sad frown. "I can't...do anything for the sky. The stars. The moon. I'm just an observer now".
Blitz leans his head against his shoulder, "Well, I've been an observer my whole life. It ain't so bad".
"I guess I'm just...not used to such limitations", he replies solemnly. Blitz takes his chin gently, kissing him softly.
"You are not limited. You are limitless, you always have been. Losing your powers doesn't change shit", Blitz says, caressing Stolas's cheek. Just as Stolas starts to smile from Blitz's tenderness, BOOM. There's a crack from behind the ranch home and a flash of light zooms into the sky, crackling as it spreads it's light.
"My gods, what is that?" Stolas asks, "That's not natural". Blitz laughs, "That's the light show, silly. Just watch the colors". Stolas squeezes onto Blitz's arm again and hides his face behind his back, "Must it be so loud?" Blitz widens his eyes and takes his hand, leading him back to the van.
"What're we doing? We don't have to go home, I can stand it, it's alright", he says as Blitz opens the larger doors, and pulls Stolas into the back seat with him. Then he pushes down the back seats into a large mattress-like position, closing the door.
"Better?" Blitz asks, smiling. Stolas thinks for a moment and realizes it's not nearly as loud as it was, and smiles, "Well....yes. It is. But don't you want to see the lights?" "I can see enough light right here", he says with half lidded eyes, making a bright pink spread across Stolas's face.
Blitz climbs on top of him, straddling him and kisses him languidly, Stolas moaning into it immediately.
"B-blitz won't it be rude to leave the light show?" Stolas asks. Blitz chuckles, "Pretty sure they barely noticed we left. Now shut up that perfect beak and come er'", he soothes as he wraps arms around Stolas's neck, making out with an intensity that makes him catch his breath a few times.
"Is this what New Years typically is?", Stolas asks, so naive to lower class hellborn's traditions in ways that Blitz honestly finds endearing.
"Mhmm, now fuck me. Please. That shirt I picked out is begging to be pulled off and I want to start the year inside you", Blitz replies.
#helluva boss#blitzø#helluva boss blitzo#blitz#stolas#helluva boss stolas#stolitz#helluva boss stolitz#helluva stolitz#fluff#ficlet#helluva boss fanfiction#fanfiction#my fanfic#helluva fanfiction#helluva fandom
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When Jean Met Karina
My submission for Reijean Christmas Week, Day 1! Prompt: meeting each other's parents.
Read on AO3 (link)
Word Count: 7.1k AU: Modern, they're adults in an established relationship Genre: Angst w/ a happy ending (plus fluff and reijean banter) CWs: Reiner gets triggered, past emotional abuse, past character deaths (car accidents), past suicidal ideation, past homophobia, dropping of the f-slur
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Reiner handed Connie a small notebook, “Everything you need to know is in here but feel free to text me if you got any questions.” He leaned down and traced a small heart on the glass tank, leaving visible smudges. The small turtle near his fingertip glanced at its owner for a second before lazily paddling away to rest on some driftwood.
“I’ve watched him before, remember?” Connie reminded Reiner with a small, exasperated laugh, “He’s in good, capable hands. Don’t worry.”
Jean, noticing the way Reiner’s jaw clenched, squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulder. This was their first time leaving town for Christmas and thus the first time they had to get someone to pet sit in the winter. The scariest season for a reptile keeper.
“Babe, I know what you’re thinking but we specifically got you a native species so you don’t have to worry about the heat as much. Besides, he’s a tough little guy.” Jean forced a grin, hoping to mask his own tense mood. Reiner returned a small smile accompanied by a soft exhale. Bingo.
Then Jean turned to Connie, “Thanks for watching Bertl for us, Con. We’ll text you when we’re on our way home.”
“No prob, guys,” Connie beamed while ushering the couple to the door, “drive safe and see you next year!”
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When Jean slid into the passenger seat of Reiner’s truck he noticed a text from Connie, “try not to lose ur mind on reiner’s crazy mom k?” He scowled.
“What’s wrong?” Reiner pulled his door closed and started buckling his seatbelt. He turned the key in the ignition, the car engine purring to life.
“It’s nothing,” Jean muttered while buckling his own seat. He fiddled with the air vents while Reiner picked out some music on his phone. When Last Christmas began playing Jean couldn’t help but shoot a glare at his boyfriend.
“What’s with that sour expression?” Reiner asked incredulously, “It’s literally the 21st of December.” After a pause he added, “There’s no Mariah Carey on this playlist, okay? Just let me have this, Jeanie.”
Sighing, Jean looked out the window at the now moving pavement. “Okay, but once we get through this I get to choose the next playlist.”
Reiner laughed. “Yeah, yeah. As if I was going to torture you with 8 straight hours of Christmas music.” He glanced at Jean for a second with a warm smile while they waited at the red light letting out of their apartment complex. “Y’know, I love you in spite of the fact that you hate fun sometimes.”
Jean cracked a genuine smile for the first time that day. Maybe he did hate what many people would consider fun but it was only because he had taste. Unlike most of these Christmas songs that felt gaudy and artificial. Yet it was hard to deny the joy they seemed to bring his boyfriend so Jean disregarded his own preferences in the second half of December. Sacrifice and all that.
Indeed, his high school friends were confused when he brought a more “lowbrow” guy back with him from college. Then they saw the way Reiner made Jean loosen up and it all made sense. Somehow Reiner could convince Jean to try something new or give another thing a second chance. As if the blond were a siren and Jean a sailor who never dreamed of diving into the ocean.
Sometimes diving into the ocean to swim with a beautiful siren meant meeting a shark. In this case her name was Karina Braun and, as far as Jean was concerned, she was his enemy. Someone to challenge and fend off and—
“We can’t keep avoiding this, Jean,” Reiner paused the Christmas playlist, “do you want to talk about it now or when we’re closer to my hometown?”
The question broke Jean out of his thoughts and he bristled once the words registered in his mind. “What’s there to talk about?”
Reiner didn’t say anything as he merged onto the interstate. Instead he looked over his shoulder to check his blind spot before roving his gaze between his mirrors.
Jean rubbed his eyes, yawning, his own gaze fixed out the passenger window. When Reiner’s silence continued after they’d settled into the flow of traffic he turned his head. He couldn’t help but frown seeing the way Reiner’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, digits clearly tensed. Knuckles turning white.
“Rei, you good?”
“I’m fine.”
“Ugh.” Jean crossed his arms with a huff. “Look, I know I’m not the best at hiding my frustration. But I also don’t see what there is to discuss when you know damn well how I feel. I would’ve rather invited your cousin to come visit us. If it weren’t for the mem—”
“Don’t,” Reiner cut in firmly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening further, “we shouldn’t talk about that. Not right now… Maybe after we swap.”
“Right,” the brunet replied hoarsely, cheeks red, shoulders aching from suddenly tensing them hard as stone. He bowed his head, ashy brown locks slipping down and obscuring his face from view.
“But I shouldn’t’ve suggested talking bout all this right now,” the blond grumbled, “I shouldn’t’ve even said anything to begin with but I’m a dumbass and… yeah.” Reiner turned the music back on, keeping his eyes glued to traffic the whole time.
The two sat unspeaking for a moment, allowing the dulcet tones of Andy Williams to fill the space. Was it really The Most Wonderful Time of the Year? It certainly didn’t feel like it and, well, Jean knew he wasn’t helping.
Despite his genuine intentions to help, Jean recognized how his stubbornness and results driven mindset could push the envelope at times. Sometimes to the point of causing more harm than good. And selfishly, he didn’t want to alienate his favorite person, so, as the next song began, he placed a gentle hand on Reiner’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.
“You’re not a dumbass,” Jean reassured, voice regaining its warmth, “I think you’re being proactive and I’m proud of you for how well you’re handling this situation in spite of my bad attitude.”
“As if you’re usually a ball of sunshine,” Reiner muttered, though Jean saw the way the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth twitched. “I guess I want you to at least try being nice. Just try. You know?”
“I will try,” Jean murmured, “but let’s talk about all this later so you can focus on the road. I think that’s a good idea.”
Reiner nodded, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. Jean turned up the stereo before reclining his seat and looking out his window. The snowy landscape rushed by, filling his vision with a blurred field of white. It was oddly beautiful. Mesmerizing, even. Maybe that’s why his eyelids felt so heavy… though it was probably just last night’s insomnia finally catching up to him.
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A sudden blast of cold air rushing into the cabin jolted Jean from his slumber. He looked up to see Reiner standing outside his open door and the expression on his boyfriend’s face instantly perked him up. Unbuckling himself he turned in his seat to tightly wrap his arms around Reiner who fell into the embrace with a shudder.
“I.. I’m so s-sorry for waking you, Jean,” Reiner whispered breathlessly into his ear, “I just… traffic slowed down to a crawl and I g-got this feeling that..”
Jean hushed him while running a hand up and down his back. Looking past to the world outside he noted they were in an empty parking lot attached to what was probably an office building. Perfect. He took a deep breath before turning his attention back to his partner.
“It’s okay, I’m glad you woke me up. You did exactly what you’re supposed to, Rei. You did good. Really, really good.”
They stayed in each other’s arms for a couple of minutes while Reiner calmed his shuddering breath. When Jean felt that his boyfriend was sufficiently recovered he insisted on taking the wheel. Originally the two planned on each driving about half of the way there but Jean assured that he didn’t mind driving extra.
“You get full music privileges,” Jean announced as he buckled himself into the driver’s seat, “hell, even Mariah.”
“Jean… it’s o-okay..” Reiner protested while wiping his eyes, “you don’t have to listen to music you hate just for me.”
“But I want to,” he grinned and gave Reiner’s shoulder a playful shove, “I know you would do the same for me.”
“I think I already do that, actually.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean. I don’t really hate any of your music but obscure 80’s ska and Medieval French battle hymns aren’t my favorite,” Reiner hesitated, “sometimes I’m not really in the mood but… I mean…” he trailed off, his mouth forming into a thin line across his face.
“Let me guess, you don’t ask me to change it because you don’t want to be a bother?”
Reiner turned to look at Jean head on and nodded, his lips curling into a faint smile.
Jean huffed. Of course his self sacrificing boyfriend would listen to literally anything Jean wanted. It was true that Reiner was a lot less picky than him. Yet he also felt like a bit of an ass for never asking if Reiner actually enjoyed his more niche music choices.
He reached over to ruffle the hair on the back of Reiner’s head, rolling his eyes as he did so. “You gotta work on this with your therapist more, hon. I want you to tell me stuff like that. I’m here to please you as much as you’re here to please me. I expect some god damn equality in my relationship. Got it?”
The blond’s smile grew wider. “Loud and clear.”
Without another word, Jean leaned over the console while pulling Reiner towards him. Their foreheads connected with a gentle bump and a renewed smile on both of their faces. Jean tilted his head slightly, making a point to nuzzle the crook of his boyfriend’s nose.
Reiner sighed contentedly in response. He lifted his hand to cup the side of Jean’s face before pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. A silent thank you from one to the other, sweet, but also vulnerable. Like a hesitant knock on the door of Jean’s world where Reiner sometimes felt out of place. Such as now when his emotions were still dizzying and fraught.
Recognizing the call, Jean pulled Reiner in closer, and began peppering kisses all over his face. Forehead, brows, nose, cheekbones, jaw, chin. And the lips, so many flurried pecks to Reiner’s chapped lips. Every one meant to convey the same thing—I want you. I love you.
“Aghh!” Reiner exclaimed through the attack. He let out wonderfully delighted laughs that set Jean’s soul alight with elation. “Mercy, mercy!”
After one final kiss on the mouth, Jean let Reiner go to lay back against the passenger seat. The blond heaved deep breaths, latent laughs slowly dying on his lips. “I love this side of you,” he mused while buckling himself in, “I’m honored whenever you let me see it.”
“Oh shut up,” Jean chuckled, “you make me sound like some humorless dolt.” He turned the key in the ignition then threw the car into reverse.
“Humorless dolt? Not at all. In I fact think you’re very clever,” Reiner replied smoothly, “witty, droll, piquant—”
“That’s enough, Cyrano. Now where do you want to stop for lunch?”
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The rest of the drive was relatively smooth. Free flowing traffic, no heated discussions, and Reiner chose a music genre both of them could agree on—80’s glam metal. Jean liked the fashion and showmanship while Reiner appreciated the cheese and catchy hooks. It wasn’t until Jani Lane started singing about secrets he just couldn’t tell that the dreaded topic returned.
“Are you sure you’re okay pretending to be roommates in front of my family?” Reiner asked after turning down the stereo. His voice cracked at the end, prompting him to busy himself with his water bottle to soothe his scratchy throat.
“Yeah, that’s okay,” Jean sighed.
“Are you positive? We don’t have to keep it a secret if you really don’t want—”
“I’m positive, Reiner. It’s seriously not a big deal.”
“And you’ll try being nice, right?”
“Oh course,” Jean insisted, albeit gently.
“…Okay,” Reiner moved to turn the volume back up when Jean covered the dial with his hand.
“Do you not trust me, Rei? To keep my cool?”
“It’s not that I distrust you, Jean. You have a cool head. I mean, I was surprised when your friends mentioned how much you fought with Eren growing up.” The thought of teens Jean and Eren fighting brought a smile to Reiner’s face. “But I know how strongly you feel about my mom. I don’t really blame you, either, it’s just that she’s not actually a villain.”
“I know that,” Jean responded tersely in spite of himself. In his periphery he noticed the way Reiner winced and he sighed again. With a softer voice he added, “I understand that she’s a person.”
“But will you keep that in mind when she says something ignorant? Or even just a little frustrating?”
“Reiner, I promise you I will do everything in my power to make this experience as stress free for you as possible. Trust me.” Jean glanced over at his boyfriend with a smile before returning his attention to the road. They were back on surface streets by now, mere minutes away from the Braun household.
The front door of the house flew open upon their arrival, before Jean finished pulling into the driveway, even. It was a teenage girl absolutely beaming from cheek to cheek, eyes scrunched closed in joy. From the passenger seat Reiner let out a quiet gasp and, without a word, hopped out of the car to meet her.
“Reiner!” She squealed excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck and letting him lift her up from the ground. “I’m so happy you came!”
“And I’m so happy to see you again, Gabi. You’ve grown so much!” He gave her a twirl before setting her back on the ground, his own smile dazzling brighter than the strings of twinkling lights surrounding the open doorway.
Jean hadn’t seen his boyfriend this happy in weeks and he couldn’t help but stare in grateful awe at the scene. Then his eye caught another figure approaching from inside of the house and his mood immediately soured.
It was Reiner’s mother, Karina. She was short with drabby blonde hair, deep set eyes, wrinkles, and a very familiar nose. Not exactly the face of evil but he knew how looks could be deceiving.
Reiner turned and hugged her with what looked like a beat of hesitation. Jean quickly got out of the car to join them, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. He heard the tail end of a sentence on his approach that made his jaw clench.
“…you’ve gotten so big, Reiner.”
Thankfully he caught himself before his face formed into the nastiest scowl, remembering the promise he’d made minutes earlier. Besides, Jean reminded himself, maybe Karina didn’t mean anything negative by it when she called her son big. Perhaps it was a comment on the fact that Reiner had gotten into weight training since his last visit.
“Thanks mom,” Reiner replied with an awkward chuckle, “I started going to the gym more regularly. So uh, let me know if you need me to lift anything for you while I’m here.”
Okay, so he was right to give her the benefit of the doubt. Except then Jean’s resolve almost faltered yet again when Karina greeted him, leaning past Reiner and smiling at him.
“Ahh so this is your roommate Gene, I take it? It’s nice to meet you, dear.”
Of course she said his name wrong. Fucking Gene, as if he were a pair of denim pants. His hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, preparing the most passive aggressive response possible when Reiner suddenly jumped in with a correction.
“No, mom. It’s Jean. Kind of like fawn but with a J.”
“Oh!” She exclaimed with wide eyes, “I’m sorry, I had no idea. It’s wonderful to meet you, Jean.” Her expression softened back into a smile as her gaze moved to Reiner’s truck. “How about we get everything inside? It’s starting to get chilly.”
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“So Jean’s bags should go into the guest room, then?” Reiner asked as they carried the last few things inside with them.
“No, dear, that’s where Gabi’s staying,” Karina responded, “your aunt and uncle are out of town on a couple’s trip with the Grices. I offered to let Gabi stay here.”
“Isn’t it great, Reiner?” Gabi hopped excitedly between each foot, practically jogging in place. “Just like old times! Remember how my parents and I would stay over for Christmas Eve and we’d all wake up together the next morning?”
Reiner nodded, “I do remember. You’d kick me out of my room and I’d sleep on the couch.” Though the wording sounded bitter the smile on his face indicated he felt quite the opposite. “So I’m guessing I’m on the couch while Jean’s in my old room? I’ll take my stuff to the living r—”
“Ahh, no,” his mother interrupted, “Falco will be on the couch.”
“Falco?” Jean found himself asking, trying to place the vaguely familiar name.
“My boyfriend!!” Gabi practically shouted. Reiner looked surprised before quickly recovering into a warm smile.
“Also a family friend,” Reiner elaborated, “his parents are the ones traveling with my aunt and uncle. I’m guessing my mother agreed to let him stay over, too.”
“I did, yes. He’s currently visiting his brother out of state but he’ll be here in a couple of days. I know it’s… unusual but do you mind sharing a room?”
“I don’t mind,” Jean replied, practically holding his breath. Was this for real?
Karina lowered her voice so only the two men could hear her, “Thank you. I obviously can’t let those two share a room, even if they’re both 18. It wouldn’t be decent.”
Oh. Of course it was a concern about the teenagers having sex. Jean held in a sigh while Reiner hurriedly ushered him upstairs to his childhood room, saying something to his mom about coming back down soon for dinner.
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“Looks like we lucked out,” Reiner muttered after closing the door shut behind him, “though I’m surprised she didn’t insist on finding me a sleeping bag so we didn’t have to share the bed.”
“Maybe she’s trying not to push her luck,” Jean sat down on said bed and looked around the room. Any decorations Reiner may have put up as a teenager were long gone. Her son had been out of the house for close to a decade at this point so perhaps that was warranted but it still rubbed him the wrong way.
“Did you know your mom sanitized your room like this?”
Reiner shrugged and plopped down on the bed next to him. “No, but it doesn’t bother me, either. I don’t want to be reminded of the old days, anyway… it’s not like they were good.” As nonchalant as he probably tried to sound, the edge in his voice gave him away.
Jean frowned and wrapped an arm around Reiner’s shoulder, pulling him in for a sideways embrace. “Don’t say that, Rei,” he leaned over to whisper into his partner’s ear, “maybe you didn’t have any good days in this room but we wouldn’t be here right now if your entire life before college was exclusively miserable.”
“You’re right,” his boyfriend pressed their foreheads together gently, amber eyes closing, “I owed Porco a visit, anyways.” A single tear rolled down Reiner’s cheek as he took a shuddering breath, “Sometimes I can’t help but still feel like they’re both my—”
“Hey, hey, don’t go there,” Jean cut in, hands quickly cupping the other man’s face, “I… I understand, you know that. And I also get you can’t exactly help it sometimes but I’m also not gonna let you just say it. Because it’s not true. It was never true. Never.”
In his mind Jean thought the words he wouldn’t dare speak aloud right now. Not as Reiner began weeping quietly, tears seeping into the cracks between his own face and Jean’s supportive palms.
It’s not true, no matter what your mom told you.
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Over the next couple of days Jean found himself on high alert. Despite the fact that Karina never said anything outwardly hostile, he couldn’t help but notice her frequent attempts to get her son alone. As far as he was concerned, no good could come from such an interaction.
Thus he made sure to intervene every single time, practically gluing himself to Reiner’s hip. Somehow he managed to do so without any pleading expressions from his beau. No desperate glances silently screaming for Jean to behave.
Instead Reiner thoroughly enjoyed himself, catching up with his baby cousin and introducing her to Jean. Gabi, while initially a shock to the senses with her loud voice and frequent exclamations, quickly grew on him. She was spunky, reminding Jean of a younger version of himself.
All the while Karina stood on the sidelines, watching. Occasionally she made some attempt at joining in on the conversation but often failed to connect. Gabi also made some efforts to bring her in on some topic or another but the old hag was usually too clueless to contribute. Talk about satisfying.
Jean smiled every time she made eye contact with him, imagining how much Karina probably hated him for not letting her sink her claws into his man.
Everything changed when he woke up alone on the morning of the 24th. The moment he realized Reiner wasn’t there he grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 7:18, meaning he hadn’t grossly overslept. Then Jean noticed a text message from Reiner from around an hour ago.
“Gabi begged me to pick up Falco from the airport with her. Should be back before breakfast.”
He sighed in relief, happy that Reiner was occupied by Gabi and not his mother. Speaking of, Karina usually served breakfast around 8, meaning the three should be back soon.
Jean got up from bed and commenced his morning routine: showering, brushing his teeth, skincare, and of course haircare. By the time he wandered downstairs in some comfortable clothes it was already 7:55. Reiner and the kids were due back any minute. He sat down at the kitchen table and did a crossword on his phone while he waited.
Karina stood by the stove cooking up something for all of them to eat. If Jean had to give her credit for something, it was her cooking. Even something as simple as scrambled eggs and bacon smelled absolutely divine coming out of her kitchen. Had she been any other person he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to learn her secrets.
“Here you go, Jean. I’ll pour you some coffee, too.”
A plate with some eggs, sausage, and toast suddenly appeared on the table before him. He looked up at her, surprised that she would serve him breakfast before everyone else was present. The past couple of mornings they always waited for everyone, no matter how much Gabi insisted she was dying of starvation.
As if reading his mind Karina spoke up again, “Gabi told me they were running late and would grab breakfast on the way home. So it’s just us two this morning.” She placed a decorative mug of black coffee next to Jean’s plate.
The mug was Christmas themed with little reindeer flying through the sky pulling Santa’s sleigh. Except instead of being cartoonish it was elegant and minimalist. White silhouettes on a black background with smooth looping script wishing him a Merry Christmas. Okay, maybe he had to give her credit for her tastes in drinkware, too. It was a wonder where Reiner got his adorable but tacky tastes.
He sipped on the drink, still piping hot from the coffee press, while Karina brought her own plate over and sat across from him. They ate in silence, Jean practically gluing his eyes to his phone screen to avoid catching her gaze. Without Reiner’s presence there to rein him in, the temptation to tear into her only grew.
He just had to hold out until Reiner and the kids came back.
“They probably won’t get here until lunch,” Karina suddenly stated right as Jean finished the last bite of food on his plate. The way she said it sounded so certain. Probably? That was definitely a lie for appearances. She knew they wouldn’t be back for a while.
Jean swallowed hard, eyes finally snapping up to look at Karina. “Why do you say that?”
“I asked Gabi to buy me some time, and so she lied to Reiner about when Falco’s plane landed,” she replied, expression stony, “I thought, if you won’t let me talk to my son then I might as well talk to you instead.”
“Oh yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “What did you want to talk about?”
“Are you the reason my son won’t answer my calls anymore? Why he blocked me on social media? Why I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral several years ago?”
“You’re damn right I’m the reason,” he declared, feeling a fiery heat ignite in his soul, calling forth the fury he’d contained over the past few days. One built up by years of watching his best friend suffer from deep emotional wounds primarily inflicted upon him by this woman. Jean clenched his fists, mentally preparing himself for what felt like an ensuing battle.
She frowned, the wrinkles in her forehead growing more pronounced. “Why did you do that?”
“Why?” Jean laughed haughtily, his almond eyes brimming with deep disdain. “Because you make him absolutely miserable. He can’t help but love you as his mom but I saw the way Reiner deflated after every phone call with you. How he’d get so anxious about every little mistake he made. And, unlike you, I got Reiner the help he needed. I supported him through that process and eventually helped him find the courage to finally cut you out.”
“Then why are you even here?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing further in what looked like frustration, “And why for so long? Why stay here until after New Years?”
Jean scoffed, “It’s not to see you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“For Gabi, then?”
“No, if it was just about Gabi then I would have invited her to come visit us for the holidays. Falco, too. He sounds like a nice kid.”
Karina pursed her lips, mouth forming a thin line across her face. To Jean’s surprise, though, she stayed silent, evidently waiting for him to continue.
He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to elaborate. None of this was any of her business, after all. Except he wanted her to feel bad. To feel guilty for all of the cruel and messed up things she did and said to Reiner over the years. And, well, he only promised to make the trip stress free for Reiner who wasn’t there to bear witness… What if Reiner just never found out?
“We’re here to pay our respects to Marcel and,” Jean gazed at her with all of the intensity he could muster, “Bertholdt. Though you might know him better as that wretched sinner or, I don’t know, that disgusting faggot?” He paused for a moment, taking in the way she winced when he repeated her words back to her.
“I could scarcely believe it the first time Reiner told me about their deaths,” Jean spat, “how you screamed at him for killing Marcel. I mean, how dare you blame him for that? And for what? Because if he hadn’t skipped his extracurricular that day then he wouldn’t have been there to cause the accident?”
She bowed her head, staring intently at her hands to avoid confronting the deadly look on Jean’s face.
“As if Reiner had any control over the driver who ran the red light when they were all crossing the street. As if he chose to have his friend push him out of danger to take the hit himself! Marcel, a dear friend, died and you had no sympathy, no compassion for your son. It’s been 15 years and he still carries that guilt with him. Still blames himself.”
Tears of indignation started welling in the corner of Jean’s eyes but he quickly blinked them away. It’d be a cold day in hell when he showed any signs of weakness to this witch.
“And you didn’t even get him help! He watched a friend get hit by a car and you couldn’t be bothered to get him in to see a therapist. And I know you had the resources. Unlike Bertholdt’s father who wanted to get his son into therapy after also witnessing the accident but just didn’t have the right insurance. You realize that Reiner and Bertholdt practically held each other together after that, right?”
Surprisingly Karina responded with a single nod of the head. Yet she continued staring at the table, her expression unreadable. He knew he could stop here, having likely gotten his point across but fuck that. It wasn’t close to enough.
“If you knew how much your son relied upon that friendship then why did you tear them apart? Huh?”
Karina hunched further forward in her seat, elbows now propped up on the table so she could hold her head. She didn’t even attempt a response, which only served to piss Jean off more.
“We both know it’s because you walked in on them sharing a kiss! A simple peck on the lips and you lost your goddamn mind! You grounded your son for the rest of the school year and forbade him from seeing his best friend! They didn’t even know how they actually felt about each other but you didn’t hesitate to demonize an innocent teenager! One you’d known for years at that point, no less!”
Jean banged his fist on the table with a frustrated grunt, causing the dishes to clatter from the force. She flinched in response but still hung her head low, refusing to face his fury. He took a moment to catch his breath before continuing his condemnation. “The night Bertholdt died he was driving here to see Reiner. Not to have some secret affair but because your son was at the end of his rope.”
Finally she raised her head, looking at him with a hollow, wide eyed expression.
“That’s right. Reiner started talking about hurting himself and his best friend rushed here despite your warnings in order to save your son…” for the first time Jean hesitated, temporarily uncertain if he should throw the finishing blow. Then he remembered the look of devastation on Reiner’s face the first time he heard this story and he knew it had to be done.
“Did you know that they were on the phone together? Bertholdt didn’t want to leave Reiner alone for a second, afraid of what might happen if he did. As a result Reiner heard all of it. The crash, the screams of pain, and then the emergency workers frantically pulling Bertholdt from the wreckage, shouting about the blood loss and—”
“Stop!” Karina sobbed desperately, her suddenly visible eyes pleading with Jean to grant her mercy. The look on her face, the hint of remorse he sensed in her, made him take pity and skip the rest of the gory details.
“The only reason we’re even here talking right now,” Jean growled, “the only reason your son is still alive, is because he had other people to carry him through. First he had his friends here in town and then he went to college and found me. I saw how much he was hurting and I encouraged him to finally talk to a professional. Now he’s flourishing and I’ll be damned if I let you undo any of his hard earned progress!”
What he heard her say next didn’t make any sense. Jean couldn’t help but think he’d misheard Karina through her sobs and gasps for air. But then she said it again and again. So many times that it became unmistakable.
“Thank you.”
“What? Why the hell are you thanking me?”
“Because,” Karina suddenly reached across the table to grab one of Jean’s hands. In any other situation he would immediately pull away but his instincts told him to wait. “Jean, dear, I’ve been trying to get Reiner alone to ask if he would consider going to family therapy with me.”
“Wait, what?”
“After Reiner cut me off.. I was a complete mess. At first I was so angry. How could my baby forsake me like that? After everything I sacrificed to raise him. But then the anger, it turned into despair and I could hardly function. When I went in for a medical appointment, the doctor convinced me to see a therapist for my depression. It took years but eventually I realized how much I’d let down my dear son.”
Jean stared at Karina, too stunned to even notice that now he was crying. Not from righteous anger but from utter confusion. For all of the times he had daydreamed about putting this woman in her place he never imagined such a response.
“If you hadn’t convinced Reiner to shut me out I never would’ve gotten the help I needed. I never would’ve worked on my own issues and understood how I took them out on him. I failed him as a mother. I know that now.” She let go of Jean’s hand to grab a tissue box and set it on the table between the two of them.
“Hold on,” he watched as she pulled a tissue to dab at her eyes, “if you already knew you’d done wrong by Reiner then why did you let me tell you off like that?” Jean grimaced now as he thought back on the comments he’d just made. The fierce condemnations. The unapologetic jabs.
Karina smiled weakly, “Well… I guess I wanted to understand how you saw the situation as my son’s life partner.”
“That’s reasona— WHAT,” Jean bolted up from his seat, “what did you just call me!?”
“Reiner’s life partner,” she repeated gently, her smile widening.
“You knew this whole time!?”
Karina nodded.
“How?!” Jean slammed his palms down on the table, rattling the tableware yet again.
This time, instead of flinching, Karina couldn’t stop herself from laughing. A goofy, genuine laugh that rumbled from her stomach and up through her chest. A laugh that sounded exactly like Reiner’s when he felt light and carefree. When he was happy.
“Gabi and Reiner are friends on social media, dear,” she finally explained after containing her amusement. “He isn’t shy about your relationship. And Gabi isn’t shy about, well, anything. I don’t think she realized that I wasn’t supposed to know when she told me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Well,” Karina sighed, her smile quickly fading, “I… I didn’t want to stress Reiner. Or you, for that matter. With how bigoted I used to be, I wasn’t sure if either of you would believe me if I said I was okay with it, either.”
Jean nodded, finally allowing himself to smile. He sat back down at the table and leaned back in the seat. Without saying anything, Karina grabbed Jean’s nearly empty cup of coffee and brought back a fresh pour.
“We have a few hours still,” she reminded him, “If you’re up to it, I think it would be nice to start over.”
He considered her offer for a second, a smug smile crossing his face. “Sure but on one condition.”
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
The last thing Reiner expected to hear when he threw open the door of his mother’s house after hours of waiting around at the airport was raucous laughter. Especially not Jean’s laughter, at that. He kicked off his shoes and hastily ran into the kitchen where he discovered Jean gleefully laughing at a photo album.
“Oh, that picture of him dressed as a yam?” Karina asked with a chuckle. She was back at the stove, putting the finishing touches on their lunch.
“Is that what that is?” Jean questioned with a wide, mischievous smile. His eyes were glued to a polaroid of a young Reiner wearing a lumpy reddish-brown blob of a costume. “Was this for some Thanksgiving play or something?”
Reiner froze in place, mouth hanging open. Wide eyed, he glanced back and forth between the duo, too shocked to speak.
“No, no” she replied cheerfully, “that was for Halloween. Reiner really, and I mean really, loved sweet potatoes back then. I borrowed his aunt’s sewing machine and tried throwing something together for him. It admittedly wasn’t very good.”
Jean cackled. He flipped to the next page, grinning at more pictures of the yam costume while sipping on some water.
“Hello Ms. Braun, thank you for hosting me,” a gentle voice suddenly came from Reiner’s side and drew everyone’s attention. Falco stood in the doorway of the kitchen holding a small tin. “Colt baked these cookies for us to enjoy.”
Without skipping a beat Jean got up from the table to shake Falco’s hand and introduce himself. Then he gestured for the young man to follow him to the stove where Karina once stood.
Reiner looked down to see his mother gazing up at him, a nervous smile adorning her face. She gently grabbed his arm and led him to the next room while Gabi passed them to join the others.
“Mom, what’s going on?” He asked quietly, eyebrows still stuck high on his forehead.
“I asked Gabi to keep you busy for a while so I could talk to Jean,” Karina let go of her son’s arm to rest her hands at her sides. That alone was unusual to him, having grown accustomed to his mother clinging to him when they were in such close proximity. She continued, “I’m sorry for the tricks but I realized I needed to get your boyfriend on my side if I wanted to talk to you. And yes, I’ve known this whole time. Gabi told me a while ago.”
“Gabi told you I had a boyfriend? But then why—” Reiner cut himself off and shook his head, realizing that it really didn’t matter why his mother played along with the roommate story. Not when she referred to Jean as his boyfriend without a shred of contempt in her tone.
“Reiner, I’m so sorry,” Karina looked away for a moment to wipe her watering eyes, “I know I hurt you so much.”
He blinked back tears of his own. Was this real? “It’s… it’s okay, mom, r-really…” Reiner stammered, suddenly overcome with an indescribable feeling of guilt. One that he often felt when thinking about his mother but never understood.
“My dear boy, it’s not okay. I am your mother and I failed you. After talking to Jean I realized that I failed you even more than I thought. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”
“Wait,” he protested, “that man, my dad, took advantage of you when you were still just a teenager and then abandoned you with his child. And then.. grandma and grandpa, I didn’t see it back then but I see it now. I see how disappointed they were. You hardly knew peace a-and they treated m-me like an extension of you. I… I can’t b-blame you for wanting me to meet their expectations.”
Karina shook her head, choking back tears. Reiner could see the way she fought against her own desire to pull him into a hug and it broke his heart. As often as Jean had encouraged him to be angry at his mother, he rarely ever could.
That guilt, he suddenly realized where it came from. And that was from the knowledge that his very existence made Karina’s life infinitely harder. How every little mistake he made was weaponized against her by his grandparents. The only ones he ever knew and also the ones who silently saw Reiner as a mistake.
It’s not like they were wrong, either.
Yet Karina didn’t stop shaking her head in disagreement, fighting against her own emotions to find her voice. “None of what you said, about your father or my parents or my age,” she croaked, barely understandable, “none of that was your fault.” She muffled a sob with her hands.
“You didn’t choose to be born, Reiner. And maybe… maybe I didn’t choose to give birth, but it’s not an excuse for how I treated you. Or how I treated poor Bertholdt. You were just kids and I… I had n-no idea th-that you… or that h-he… it’s all m-my f-fault…”
Reiner sucked in a sharp breath, immediately understanding his mother now knew about that awful night. Without hesitation he pulled her into a strong embrace, unable to contain his own sobs. Karina whimpered innumerable apologies and for once he let her without protest.
Deep down Reiner somehow knew that both of them needed this. His mom needed to apologize for her wrongdoings. He needed to forgive himself for every one of those wrongs for which he had ever accepted the blame. This was them, finally healing. The first step of countless many in a journey that already felt infinitely easier.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
That night five of them sat around the kitchen table, laughing and playing some of their favorite board games. Karina sat out of some of the rounds but, unlike the previous days, she was very much part of the conversation. Jean still struggled at times to hold his tongue after she said something questionable but he cut himself some slack. He knew this was a process for him, too.
When he and Reiner finally retired to their room his heart felt much lighter. As did his boyfriend’s for that matter, (though he was a little tipsy, too.) It didn’t take long before Jean felt Reiner lightly snoring into the back of his neck, the latter insisting on being the big spoon that night. He smiled to himself as sleep gradually came to claim him, too.
Never in Jean’s dreams did he ever imagine liking Karina Braun. Perhaps it was a Christmas miracle. Or perhaps, as was sometimes the case, he assumed the worst of someone he never met in the process of fighting for someone he loved. He didn’t question it, however, just happy that he agreed to give her the chance.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! If there is enough interest I might write a second part where reijean go on a double date with pokupiku and pay their respects to Marcel and Bertholdt.
#reijeanchristmas#reijean#jeanrei#reiner x jean#my writing#this was published on ao3 in time for the 25th but then I had to go and make the silly meme for the tumblr version lol
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New Year, New Me
A Mixture of Fact and Fiction
The rain poured relentlessly, soaking through my thin jacket as I trudged along the edge of the bridge. My breath fogged in the cold air, mingling with the silent tears streaming down my face. I had stopped wiping them away hours ago—it didn’t matter. The rain was doing a fine job of disguising my brokenness.
What a year...
In January, I’d lost my job. A position I thought was secure, a career I’d dedicated years to, gone in a single meeting where words like "downsizing" and "unprecedented times" were thrown around. The severance package was cold comfort, especially as the months stretched on and my savings drained away.
By spring, I had sent out dozens upon dozens of resumes. I’d tailored each one meticulously, written cover letters that begged for a chance, and scoured job boards for hours. And yet, nothing. Not one callback, not one single interview all year.
By summer, the walls felt like they were closing in. I’d started snapping at my friends, not because of anything they did, but because the pressure inside me needed an outlet. It came to a head at a birthday party in July. The meltdown wasn’t dramatic—no shouting or flipping tables—but my words cut deep. I left our group chats in an impulsive decision. I tried to reach out again the next day but was essentially told to get lost, that groups aren't a buffet where you pick and choose to join or leave on a whim.
By fall, I was completely isolated. My small apartment felt like a prison, the silence oppressive. I tried to focus on the little things—cleaning, cooking, exercising—but even those became Herculean tasks.
And now, here I was, on New Year’s Eve, wandering through the city like a depressed ghost. The city lights shimmered through the downpour, blurred and distorted. A metaphor for my life, I thought bitterly. Everything I’d once seen so clearly was now a warped mess.
I hadn’t come to the bridge with any specific intentions. I wasn’t planning to jump, at least not at first. But there was something comforting about standing at the edge, staring down at the rushing water below. It made it so tempting to just let go...
“Hey, wait!”
A hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me backward with surprising strength. I stumbled, nearly losing my footing, and turned to face a man standing in the rain. He was tall, with piercing hazel eyes and a warm, genuinely concerned expression that cut through the gloom like a ray of sunlight. His golden soccer jersey gleamed even in the downpour, almost glowing against the darkness.
“You shouldn’t be walking so close to the edge,” he said, his voice calm but firm.
I blinked at him, stunned. “Mind your own business. It's not like anyone would care either way.”
“I would,” he interrupted gently, "and it’s a bad place to be, especially on a night like this.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped me. He wasn’t just saying words; he understood. Somehow, this stranger saw the storm raging inside me.
“I’m Brody,” he said, extending a hand.
I hesitated, then shook it. “Michael.”
“Michael,” Brody repeated, as if testing how it felt. “I’ve got a place where you can stay tonight. Dry, warm, and safe.”
“I don’t have any money,” I mumbled, shame creeping into my voice.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not offering you a hotel room. I’m offering you something better. A chance to be part of something bigger. The Golden Army—a team where everyone belongs. We’ve got a place for you, too.”
I stared at him, trying to process his words. A team? A group of strangers who just…take people in like lost puppies? It sounded too good to be true.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Brody said, as if sensing my hesitation. “Come to the stadium tonight. Just get out of the rain and rest. That’s all I’m asking.”
There was something about the way he looked at me—gentle but unwavering. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at me like that, with genuine care.
The weight of the rain and my exhaustion finally tipped the scales. I nodded. “Okay.”
The stadium was unlike anything I’d expected—grand, but somehow inviting. Brody led me through a side entrance, past rows of gleaming trophies and framed jerseys. The air inside was warm, carrying a faint scent of grass and leather.
“Here we are,” Brody said, pushing open a door to a locker room. It was pristine, yet it had a lived-in feel. Rows of lockers stood neatly, each labeled with a name and number. A pile of golden jerseys sat on a bench, their fabric shimmering under the fluorescent lights.
He handed me a towel and gestured toward a small cot tucked in a corner. “It’s not much, but it’s dry. Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
I hesitated, feeling like an intruder, but the exhaustion was too much to fight. I collapsed onto the cot, too tired to even pull off my shoes. As my eyes closed, I felt a strange warmth spread through me, like the first rays of sunlight after a long, cold night.
That warmth grew as I slept, spreading from my core to every inch of my body. It wasn’t unpleasant—in fact, it felt like I was being wrapped in sunlight despite the darkness of the room.
It began in my chest, a soft tingling that soon turned into a gentle pressure. My muscles, once soft and underused, stretched and thickened as if they were waking from a long slumber. My shoulders broadened, my arms filled out, and my hands, which had always seemed frail, grew stronger, their grip firm and sure.
The transformation worked its way downward, my torso flattening and hardening as if carved from stone. I could feel my posture straightening, my spine aligning perfectly, and my chest expanding with each breath, deeper and steadier than before.
My legs, which had carried me through countless city streets in defeat, now pulsed with energy. The muscles in my thighs and calves grew firm and powerful, as though they were made for running, for sprinting across a field with purpose.
A warmth enveloped my skin, chasing away the paleness of months spent indoors. A healthy tan spread over me, as if I had spent weeks under the sun. Even my face felt different—stronger, more defined, though I couldn’t yet see it.
My clothes shifted along with me. The soaked, threadbare jacket and shirt I had fallen asleep in melted away, replaced by something smoother, more substantial. When the fabric settled, I could feel the cool, silky touch of a golden soccer jersey against my skin. It fit perfect, snug but comfortable, as though it had been tailored just for me. The number 10 was emblazoned on the back, bold and unmistakable.
As the transformation neared its end, a sense of vitality surged through me. My exhaustion, my aches, my despair—all of it was gone, replaced by a strength I had never known.
When I woke, I felt…different. My first thought was how deeply and peacefully I had slept, something I hadn’t experienced in months. My second thought was that I felt light—not just physically, but emotionally.
I sat up slowly, blinking in sleep. I hadn't slept for more than a few hours at most, if the darkness outside was any indication, but I felt invigorated.
My arms caught my attention first. They were toned and muscular, the veins faintly visible beneath the tan skin.
“What…?”
I stood, and my reflection in a nearby mirror stopped me cold. A man I barely recognized stared back. His hair was dark and thick, his jawline strong, his shoulders broad. He was wearing a gleaming golden soccer jersey, the number 10 shining proudly.
I ran my hands over my face, my arms, my torso. It was all real. I was real.
“You look good in gold.”
I turned to see Brody leaning casually against the doorway, his easy smile lighting up the room.
“What…what happened to me?” I stammered.
“You’re part of the team now,” Brody said simply. “The Golden Army isn’t just a team, Michael. It’s a family. A place where everyone has a role, a purpose.”
I felt a lump in my throat and struggled to speak. “Why me? I’m just…a mess.”
Brody walked over, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve all been messes, Michael. That’s why the Golden Army exists—to help each other. You’re not alone anymore.”
As the clock struck midnight, the stadium erupted in cheers. The team had gathered on the field to celebrate the new year, and they pulled me into the circle without hesitation.
“To new beginnings!” Richard shouted, raising a water bottle like a toast.
“To new beginnings!” we all echoed, laughter and joy filling the air.
“Happy New Year,” Brody said softly.
Without thinking, he leaned closer, and so did I. Lips brushed, a warmth that lingered. My world was golden.
The past year had been rough, but with a new group of bros by my side, my future seemed bright for the first time.
#golden army#thegoldenteam#golden team#male transformation#jockification#soccer tf#male tf#jock tf#new year#gay
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