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reiderwriter · 7 months

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Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

#kinktober 2023 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #hate sex #enemies to lovers

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nayziiz · 5 days

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Drunken Confessions | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (you/her/she)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

As Charles and his friends stepped out of the racing circuit, their spirits soared high on the wings of triumph. The air buzzed with excitement, the taste of victory still lingering on their lips. Amidst the chorus of cheers and the flash of cameras capturing his podium moment, Charles couldn't contain the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

With his latest podium finish secured and a stellar second-place ranking in the season's standings, the world seemed to spin in kaleidoscopic hues of success. The night beckoned with promises of revelry and camaraderie, pulling them into its embrace with irresistible allure.

Their destination: a vibrant club pulsating with life, a sanctuary where jubilation knew no bounds. Stepping through the threshold, they were enveloped by a symphony of beats, the rhythm of the music mingling with the laughter of fellow celebrants. Neon lights cast a kaleidoscope of colours across the dance floor, a dazzling display that mirrored the euphoria in Charles' heart.

In the midst of the thronging crowd, Charles felt like a king among subjects, his triumph celebrated by friends and strangers alike. The air crackled with anticipation, each moment pregnant with the promise of unforgettable memories waiting to be made.

For Charles, the night was a tapestry woven with threads of exhilaration and joy. With a glass in hand, he toasted to his success, the effervescence of champagne mingling with the echoes of his laughter. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the worries of tomorrow melting away beneath the glow of the present.

As the night unfolded in a whirlwind of celebration, Charles, swept up in the euphoria of his success, found himself in the midst of a lively exchange of drinks. Glasses clinked and laughter bubbled like champagne, as friends and well-wishers toasted to his latest triumph.

Unbeknownst to Charles, amidst the flurry of activity, a fateful mistake occurred. In the dimly lit ambiance of the club, a tray of drinks made its rounds, each glass brimming with tantalising refreshment. Among them, nestled innocuously amidst the array of beverages, were vodka cranberries, their crimson hue indistinguishable from the innocuous cranberry juice that Charles favoured.

With the carefree abandon of someone riding high on the wave of success, Charles reached for a glass, the promise of refreshment beckoning like a siren's call. Oblivious to the subtle nuances that distinguished one drink from another, he took a sip, expecting the familiar tartness of cranberry juice to greet his palate.

Yet, as the liquid trickled down his throat, a jolt of recognition shot through his senses. The sharp bite of vodka cut through the sweetness, sending a shockwave of realisation coursing through his veins. In that instant, the veil of ignorance was lifted, replaced by the stark clarity of consequence.

The potent concoction worked its magic with ruthless efficiency, weaving its intoxicating spell around Charles' senses. Gradually, the walls of inhibition crumbled, and he found himself enveloped in a state of cheerful inebriation, the world spinning in a kaleidoscope of colours and laughter.

With each passing moment, Charles surrendered himself to the whims of the night, his laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the cacophony of revelry. Yet, beneath the veneer of merriment, a sense of disorientation gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, a reminder of the precarious balance between euphoria and excess.

As the night wore on, Charles danced on the precipice of intoxication, his every movement a testament to the heady cocktail of jubilation and recklessness. Unaware of the storm brewing within him, he surrendered himself to the whims of the night, a willing participant in the dance of celebration and excess.

As the night at the club reached its crescendo, Pierre, ever vigilant and attuned to his friend's well-being, noticed the subtle signs of Charles' intoxication. Concern etched lines of worry onto Pierre's face as he observed Charles' increasingly erratic behaviour. Sensing the need for intervention, Pierre sprang into action, his unwavering loyalty propelling him into motion.

With practised ease, Pierre withdrew his phone, his fingers navigating the familiar terrain of contacts until he found the number he sought: Charles' girlfriend. Aware of her decision to remain at the hotel, Pierre hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with the urgency of the situation. Despite her absence from the festivities, Pierre knew that her presence, even over the phone, could provide the grounding force needed to steer Charles away from the brink of recklessness.

With a deep breath, Pierre pressed the call button, his heart drumming a staccato rhythm of anticipation. As the phone rang, he silently prayed for her swift response, knowing that every passing second carried the risk of escalation.

Meanwhile, in the quiet confines of their hotel room, Charles' girlfriend sat in solitude, the echo of the night's festivities a distant murmur in her mind. Despite her initial plans to join Charles and his friends at the club, a wave of fatigue had washed over her, leaving her drained and in need of respite.

As the phone beside her stirred to life with Pierre's call, she hesitated for a moment, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty. Yet, beneath the layers of exhaustion, a flicker of concern for Charles ignited, propelling her into action. With a sense of urgency, she answered Pierre's call, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos of the night.

In the midst of the bustling club, Pierre's relief was palpable as he heard her voice on the other end of the line. With a rush of gratitude, he relayed the situation to her, his words infused with urgency and concern. Though separated by physical distance, their shared commitment to Charles bound them together in a common purpose: to ensure his safety and well-being.

As she stepped through the doors of the club, the pulsating beat of the music washed over her, mingling with the heady mix of emotions swirling within her heart. Concern for Charles warred with anticipation, each step forward a testament to her unwavering commitment to his well-being.

Amidst the sea of faces illuminated by the neon glow of the club, her eyes sought out Charles, her heart skipping a beat as she spotted him amidst the throng. His usually composed demeanour had been replaced by a charming vulnerability, his laughter echoing like a melody in the crowded room.

As she approached him, a wave of relief washed over her at the sight of his endearing smile, despite the telltale signs of his tipsy state. Beneath the veneer of intoxication, she glimpsed the essence of the man she had come to love, his warmth and charisma shining through even in the midst of chaos.

In that fleeting moment, Charles seized a rare moment of clarity, his gaze locking with hers in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. Emotions, amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins, danced in his eyes, a kaleidoscope of longing and affection.

“My love, you're here!” Charles exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and delight as he caught sight of his girlfriend weaving her way through the crowd toward him. Amidst the pulsating rhythm of the music and the swirling chaos of the club, her presence was a beacon of warmth and comfort, grounding him in the midst of his intoxicated haze.

With outstretched arms, he enveloped her in a tender embrace, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

“I came to fetch you, Charles,” she informed him, her voice a gentle reassurance amidst the clamour of the club. With a tender smile, she reached out to him, her touch a soothing balm against the tumult of his intoxicated state.

For Charles, her words were a lifeline, grounding him in the midst of the swirling chaos. With a grateful nod, he took her hand, intertwining their fingers as they navigated through the crowd together.

“I thought you said you weren't going to be drinking?” she wondered, her voice tinged with a hint of concern as they entered their hotel room. The dim light cast a soft glow across the space, illuminating the weariness etched into her features.

Charles felt a pang of guilt tug at his heart as he met her gaze, the weight of her disappointment settling heavily upon him. With a sheepish smile, he struggled to find the right words to explain his lapse in judgement, his mind clouded by the lingering effects of alcohol.

“I... I didn't plan on it,” he began, his voice faltering as he searched for an excuse. “But, you know how it is... the celebration, the excitement... it just got away from me.”

As the words fell from his lips, Charles could see the hurt reflected in her eyes, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. In that moment, he realised the gravity of his actions, the impact they had on her and their relationship.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, the weight of his remorse hanging heavy in the air. “I didn't mean to disappoint you.”

“It's not about disappointment, Charles. I just want you to be safe, and heaven knows what can happen out there,” she expressed softly, her words carrying a weight of genuine concern.

As they stood in the quiet intimacy of their hotel room, her sincerity washed over him like a gentle tide, soothing the turmoil within his heart. Charles felt a lump form in his throat as he absorbed her words, the depth of her care resonating deeply within him. In that moment, he realised the magnitude of her love, a love that transcended mere disappointment and embraced the essence of protection and security.

With a sense of humility, Charles nodded in understanding, his gaze locked with hers in silent affirmation. Her words echoed in his mind, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing every moment they shared together.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice laced with gratitude. “And I promise, I'll do better. For you. Because I love you.”

His confession caught her off guard as he stumbled over to the bed. Did he really love her? Doubt crept into her mind, fueled by the uncertainty of the moment and the lingering effects of Charles' intoxication. However, the haze of intoxication clouded his memory, leaving him blissfully unaware of the heartfelt confession that had escaped his lips for the very first time.

As she watched him, sprawled out on the bed in a state of blissful oblivion, she couldn't help but wonder if his words had been merely a product of the alcohol-fueled euphoria, a fleeting expression of affection that would evaporate with the light of day.

Yet, amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her, a flicker of hope remained. Beneath the haze of intoxication, she had glimpsed the sincerity in Charles' eyes, the raw honesty of his confession resonating deep within her soul.

With a heavy sigh, she approached him, her heart heavy with uncertainty yet yearning for reassurance. Gently, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her touch soft and tender against his skin.

As Charles awoke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, he noticed her sitting on the edge of the bed, her demeanour distant and sombre.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his voice laced with concern, “what's wrong?”

She turned to him, her expression a mix of sadness and frustration.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment. Confusion knitted Charles' brows together as he struggled to recall the events of the previous evening.

“I... I remember bits and pieces,” he admitted hesitantly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “But I'm not sure…”

“Wonderful.” She muttered as she got up and started rummaging through her suitcase.

“I must have been really drunk…” he admitted. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember, so it’s fine.” She countered.

“Baby, come on. What happened?” He implored.

“I’m confused about what to believe, Charles, honestly. I don’t know if you meant it or if you simply said it because you were drunk.” She continued.

“Baby…” He paused. His girlfriend's frustration boiled over, her words cutting through the air like a knife.

“You confessed your love for me, Charles,” she stated bluntly, her tone tinged with hurt. “And you can’t even remember it.”

“I... I didn't realise…” he stammered, at a loss for words.

“So, you didn’t mean it then?” his girlfriend retorted, her voice trembling with emotion.

“No, no, of course, I mean it,” Charles insisted, his voice tinged with desperation. “I love you, I really do. I just... I messed up, okay? I didn't mean to hurt you.”

His girlfriend's eyes softened slightly at his words, but the hurt still lingered.

“I want to believe you, Charles. But how can I trust your words when you don't even remember saying them?” she admitted softly. Charles reached out to her, his hand hovering in the air before faltering.

“I'll do better, I promise. I'll show you, every day, how much you mean to me. I do love you, so much,” he vowed earnestly. As Charles watched the tears welling up in his girlfriend's eyes, he felt a pang of remorse tighten in his chest. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, baby.”

His girlfriend's gaze softened, her defences crumbling in the face of his sincerity.

“I know you didn't. But it still hurts, Charles. It hurts a lot,” she admitted softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make it right.” Charles murmured, reaching out to gently wipe away her tears.

There was a moment of silence as they sat together, enveloped in the weight of their shared emotions. Then, with a hesitant sigh, she spoke up.

“I... I love you too, Charles” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, charged with vulnerability and raw emotion. Charles felt his heart swell with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

“You do?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. His girlfriend nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Yeah,” she replied, her gaze meeting his with unwavering honesty. "I do."

In that moment, the tension that had gripped them both melted away, replaced by a sense of profound connection and understanding. Charles pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if afraid she might disappear if he let go and placed several soft kisses on her forehead.

"I can be so stupid sometimes," he whispered against her hair.

"You don’t say," she whispered back, causing them both to break out in a fit of laughter.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 7 months

Text

The Pumpkin Patch.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here, huns!

authors note - in honour of finally approaching october, enjoy this little mess that my brain magically comes up with when i’m bored…and lhh as a dad because that is simply girl dinner.

word count - 2k

in which, you and harry decide to take your son teddy to the pumpkin patch in honour of it finally hitting october, the three of you decide to make a day of things, and let’s just say the day doesn’t exactly turn out how you all expected it, a series of unfortunate events occur and that all starts out with your fiancé getting annoyed that the sat nav isn’t helping him very much.

trope: fiancé!harry x reader

October holds a special place in your heart, like no other month ever could. It was the month when you first embarked on a life-changing journey, leaving your homeland to pursue higher education in the United States. It was a time of excitement and trepidation, but little did you know that it would mark the beginning of countless beautiful memories.

During those university years, October became a symbol of friendship and camaraderie. It was when you met your lifelong friends, people who would stand by your side through thick and thin. Together, you navigated the challenges of academia, celebrated achievements, and forged bonds that would last a lifetime.

One particular October stands out vividly in your memory. It was the month of your graduation, a momentous occasion that your family didn't want to miss. They flew out to share in your joy and celebrate your accomplishments. Their presence made the milestone even more meaningful, filling your heart with warmth and love.

But the most extraordinary chapter of your life was written in the pages of an October. It was in Los Angeles, while browsing through a record shop, that you first laid eyes on Harry Styles. The connection was instant, as if fate had brought you together. In the midst of music and conversation, your love story began to unfold.

It was in October when he first whispered those three magical words, "I love you," after a night of watching a scary movie that left you clinging to his chest, finding comfort in his embrace. That moment of vulnerability deepened your bond and solidified your love for each other.

During a serene picnic in the park, surrounded by the beauty of autumn, Harry surprised you with a question that would change your lives forever. He asked you to move in with him, a gesture that symbolized commitment and a future together.

The circle of life continued to expand in October when your son, Theodore, affectionately known as Teddy, was born. The joy of parenthood brought immeasurable happiness and completeness to your lives, and the autumn leaves seemed to dance in celebration.

And then, in an enchanting October evening, Harry knelt down on one knee and proposed to you. Under the starry sky, he presented you with a ring, promising a lifetime of love, happiness, and adventures together. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you said yes, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

October, with its vibrant colors and meaningful milestones, had become more than just a month on the calendar; it was a testament to the beauty of life, love, and the incredible journey you had embarked upon. It was safe to say that October had etched its place as your favorite month, forever holding the key to cherished memories and boundless love.

As you, Harry, and your almost two-year-old son Teddy set out for the pumpkin patch in Harry's sleek black Range Rover, there was an air of excitement in the car. The vibrant colours of autumn and the promise of pumpkin picking had everyone in high spirits. However, it didn't take long for things to take an unexpected turn.

Teddy, safely strapped into his car seat, began to cry, his little arms reaching out for his father. Seeing as Harry had been up all night comforting his baby boy who appeared to be getting his molars growing, he had tried everything, and the only thing that seemed to help the poor boy was to be cuddled up with both parents in their bed, with a teething toy in his grasp.

So, when the two of you woke up this morning, you had decided to take everyone’s tired minds off of things and have a fun little day out, but that didn’t seem to be going the way you had originally planned.

Harry couldn't easily comfort him, as he was engrossed in a battle with the aggravating sat nav system that seemed determined to make the journey anything but smooth.

You turned round in your seat and leaned over to Teddy, offering him a soothing voice, "Hey, ted. Daddy's driving right now, but he'll be with you soon. Look out the window, see the pretty leaves?"

Harry, growing increasingly frustrated, muttered, "S’thing is driving m’nuts. S’like a maze."

Teddy's cries persisted, and you rummaged in the bag for a toy to distract him. "Teddy, how about this colourful toy? Can you play with it?"

Harry let out another exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on the sat nav screen. "All I want is t’find that pumpkin patch."

The journey went on like that for about another ten minutes before Harry finally got the hang of where the sat nav was trying to take him, and Theodore succumbed to silent sniffles when your fiancé reached his hand back and let his son hold onto his finger like he was a newborn all over again.

Theodore Styles was born just a year into the two of you officially dating, on October 18th, 2013. You and Harry were only nineteen. Although both of you were only young, you both had support from your family and friends and even though Harry’s job was a very demanding one, he always made sure to put the two of you first, so fast forward to October 2016 you were the perfect family unit and you were one step closer to becoming a Styles just like your other two boys.

As you, Harry, and Teddy finally pulled into the sprawling pumpkin patch, a sense of excitement filled the air. The fields were covered in a sea of vibrant orange, and the prospect of a fun-filled day lay ahead.

Driving through the muddy terrain, Teddy was securely strapped into his car seat, but his little face was pressed against the window. His bright eyes were wide with curiosity, and he couldn't contain his delight as he pointed at everything in his limited vocabulary, his baby talk filling the car.

"Look, Teddy," you exclaimed with enthusiasm, "those pumpkins are huge, aren't they?"

Teddy responded with bursts of infectious laughter, his tiny finger continuing to point at the pumpkins, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His joy was like a contagious wave that washed over the car.

Harry, his long hair falling in front of his eyes, expertly navigated the muddy path. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, occasionally glancing at Teddy's adorable antics.

"That's right, Teddy-Bear," Harry chimed in, his voice filled with affection, "those pumpkins are as big as y’are!"

The car rolled on, winding through the pumpkin-filled fields. Teddy's laughter and baby talk were a constant source of amusement, brightening the atmosphere in the car.

You couldn't help but join in the excitement. "Teddy, do you see those scarecrows over there? They're guarding the pumpkins!"

Teddy's laughter escalated as he looked at the scarecrows, his tiny hands reaching out toward them. His innocent joy made the entire journey worthwhile.

Harry put the car into park and turned to you. "Alrigh’ m’love,"

As you worked on getting Teddy out of his car seat, Harry made his way to the trunk. He looked at you, holding the baby bag, and asked, "Do y’think we'll need t’stroller?"

You considered for a moment, remembering that Teddy hadn't slept well during the night. You nodded, knowing that he might get tired later. "Yeah, H, I think it's a good idea. Just in case."

Harry nodded in agreement and began setting up the stroller while you gently unstrapped Teddy from his car seat. He wriggled out of your arms, his little welly boots and beanie adding to his adorable appearance.

With Teddy on the ground, you smiled down at him. "Look at you, ready for some pumpkin picking, little man!"

Harry, now with his hair tied into a man bun to keep it out of his face, locked up the car. He glanced at Teddy and then at you. "Alrigh’, s’make some pumpkin memories."

As the three of you approached the entrance to the patch, The stroller stood empty as Harry navigated it through the muddy pumpkin fields.

Teddy, in his infectious excitement, was far too eager to explore on his own. Instead, you held onto his tiny hands, and he practically pulled you along, his chubby legs wading through the mud, creating tiny boot imprints with each step.

The pumpkin patch sprawled before you, a vast sea of orange and green. Teddy's eyes danced with wonder as he darted from one pumpkin to another, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His little voice bubbled with delight, even though his words were a jumble of baby talk and giggles.

Harry manoeuvred the stroller skillfully, occasionally glancing over to check on Teddy's progress. Teddy's tiny boots splashed through puddles, his beanie bobbing atop his head as he explored this pumpkin wonderland.

You marvelled at the sheer joy radiating from your son. Holding his hands, you let him lead the way, following his excited tugs and twirls. The mud-splattered boots and the occasional stumble didn't dampen Teddy's enthusiasm in the slightest.

About fifteen minutes into your visit to the pumpkin patch, you found yourselves standing in front of a scarecrow, admiring its rustic charm. Teddy, so far, had been on a mission to pick up every pumpkin he walked by, not quite grasping the concept of a pumpkin patch and getting upset when you told him that you needed to find the perfect pumpkin before heading home.

As you were enjoying this quaint moment, a friendly woman from another family who was passing by noticed your trio. She offered with a warm smile, "Would you like a photo of the three of you by the scarecrow?"

Harry didn't hesitate for a moment. He beamed and said,

"Yes, please!" as he quickly handed the woman his phone, which was already open on the camera. He gently scooped Teddy into his arms, holding him on his hip, and then wrapped his free arm around your shoulder.

The woman skillfully captured the moment, ensuring you were all framed by the scarecrow and the vibrant pumpkin patch behind you. Teddy, still clutching a small pumpkin in his chubby hand, looked at the camera with curiosity, and his innocent smile added an extra layer of charm to the photo.

After the picture was taken, you thanked the kind stranger, and Harry, still holding Teddy, shared a grateful smile with her.

Ten minutes after Teddy's encounter with the scarecrow, the pumpkin patch adventure continued, with Teddy now running ahead of you and Harry. His tiny legs carried him with an uncontainable exuberance as he darted between pumpkins, each one a new discovery in his eyes.

You pushed the stroller, its wheels rolling through the earthy paths, while Harry walked beside you, holding your hand. Both of you watched Teddy with hearts full of fondness as he explored this autumn wonderland. His laughter was a symphony of joy, filling the air and brightening your day even more.

The pumpkin patch seemed to be Teddy's playground, a place where he could express his boundless curiosity and energy.

About five meters ahead of both you and Harry, Teddy suddenly stopped in his tracks, captivated by a rather large pumpkin. It seemed to be the biggest one he had seen so far, and his little hands eagerly reached out to try and pick it up. However, it was a challenge even for his determined efforts.

Harry and you shared a chuckle at Teddy's determined endeavour. He didn't give up, though, and instead, he called out to Harry in his adorable baby talk, "Dada, hep! Hep, Dada!"

Harry couldn't resist the plea, and with a playful grin, he made his way over to Teddy. Together, father and son wrestled with the pumpkin, their laughter filling the crisp autumn air.

While they worked on the perfect pumpkin, you put the brakes on the stroller and crouched down in front of your little boy. You asked in a sweet baby talk, "Is this the pumpkin you definitely want, Teddy?"

Teddy nodded his head vigorously, a bright smile on his face. He wrapped his little arm around your neck, expressing his delight and contentment with the choice

“S’settled then,” Harry grinned up at you, holding the pumpkin in his tattooed arms. “Fancy grabbing a coffee at the lil’hut before heading off? God knows we need it.”

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5starl1ght · 2 months

Text

Awkward moments

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Celebrating your boyfriend's podium might cause awkward moments

Mesterlist

As Lando Norris' girlfriend, the joy of celebrating his podium finish was an indescribable rush of emotions. From the moment he crossed the finish line in second place, the air was charged with exhilaration and pride. We embraced amidst the chaos of the post-race celebrations, our hearts pounding in sync with the roar of the crowd. The energy was infectious, radiating from the track to the depths of our souls. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the shared ecstasy of his achievement and the overwhelming sense of unity between us.

As we retreated to our private sanctuary away from the hustle and bustle of the paddock, the adrenaline of the race still pulsed through our veins. With each glance, each touch, the intensity between us grew, fueled by the raw emotion of the day's events. Our connection transcended words, a silent understanding passing between us as we reveled in the euphoria of the moment.

In the dim light of our shared space, surrounded by the echoes of victory, our celebration took on a more intimate tone. With tenderness and passion, we expressed our love for each other in a language known only to us. The world outside faded into insignificance as we lost ourselves in each other's embrace, each touch igniting a fire that burned with a ferocity unmatched by any race track.

Yet, just as we surrendered to the bliss of our union, fate intervened in the form of an unexpected interruption. The door swung open, and in an instant, our private moment was shattered by the intrusion of our friends. Shocked and embarrassed, we scrambled to compose ourselves, the heat of the moment cooling in the face of their bewildered gazes.

Laughter filled the room, mingling with the lingering tension as we attempted to regain our composure. Though initially mortified by the unexpected intrusion, we soon found ourselves joining in the laughter, the awkwardness of the situation giving way to the shared camaraderie of friendship.

In the aftermath of the interruption, we found solace in the understanding and support of those closest to us. Though our moment of intimacy had been disrupted, the bond between us remained unshakeable, fortified by the love and acceptance of those who stood by our side, even in the most unexpected of circumstances.

And so, as we continued to bask in the glow of Lando's podium finish, we were reminded that true victory lies not only in the triumphs on the track but in the connections we forge and the moments we share with those we hold dear.

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x y/n

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justabrunettewhowrites-stuff · 3 months

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'As Icy As A Winter Wonderland'

Clarisse La Rue x Unclaimed!Fem!Demigod!Reader

A/N:Rq'd by one of my friends - specific rq so the color focuses on what she requested <3

Reader is new at CHB and has heterochromia - blue eyes with central heterochromia.Short fic!

In the heart of Camp Half-Blood, where demigods found solace and camaraderie, a new presence stirred the air. Unclaimed yet, with eyes that held the frosty allure of a winter's dawn,you stood at the edge of the training grounds,observing the seasoned campers in their element.

Clarisse La Rue, the fierce and fiery daughter of Ares, was in the midst of a sparring session. Her piercing gaze swept across the crowd until it collided with your captivating eyes. A momentary pause ensued, as if the fates themselves had intertwined, and in that instant, something unspoken sparked between you.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the camp.Clarisse, never one to shy away from her feelings, approached you with a determined stride. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze as the intensity of your gaze met the fire in hers. Without hesitation,Clarisse broke away from her training and approached you.The shadows danced in her determined eyes as she spoke, a hint of vulnerability beneath her tough exterior. "Never seen eyes like yours before. What's your deal, newbie?"

Your gaze met hers, a blend of icy blue, with a mesmerizing blend that came in a circle around your pupil - the same gorgeous chocoloate brown, revealing the intricate tapestry of your lineage,one which gave your gaze an otherworldly depth, like the frost-kissed surface of a winter pond. In that moment, Clarisse felt a magnetic pull, a connection she couldn't quite explain. "Just waiting to be claimed, I guess."

Clarisse's lips curved into a half-smile, a rare sight from the battle-hardened demigod. "Well, aren't you a mystery? Keep those eyes sharp, new kid. This place has its secrets."

As she spoke, a rare vulnerability crossed her face. "You're different, and I don't say that lightly. We're not all rainbows and sunshine here, but something about you... it's intriguing."

As the night unfolded, you found yourself drawn into the fabric of camp life, where the shared stories of heroism and heartbreak echoed through the bonfire-lit air. Clarisse lingered nearby, occasionally stealing glances, and it became evident that an unspoken connection had woven its way into the tapestry of fate.

In the quiet moments, beneath the celestial canopy, Clarisse confessed, "Your eyes tell a story, and I'm damn curious to unravel it. We'll see who claims you,but for now?You're not walking away from me that easily."

For the first time, Clarisse - whose heart was guarded like a fortress, felt a crack in her defenses. The winter wonderland within your eyes seemed to cast a spell, thawing the frost around her heart...

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scoobydoodean · 4 months

Note

the way dean gives so much love and receives love in return always makes me so soft 😭

people love him and connect with him because he's always reaching out - he tries so hard to bond with people and make them happy and he's so thoughtful and kind. truly, genuinely, kind. he's not ~nice~ (nice people are fake!) he's honest and real and beautiful and true and everyone he meets responds to that. his milkshake really does bring everyone to the yard and thank you for the reminder!!!

Think even of how many times Dean has snapped people out of mind control! John, Bobby, Cas, Rufus, Sam, Mary. How many HUGS he’s given how many people he’s said “I love you” to without saying it. Think about how he got through to Lucas in 1.03 and got him to begin communicating with him when no one (not even his MOM) could by empathizing with him and telling him he was listening. When he pulled John out of mind control with a simple plea. When he pulled Bobby out of mind control by telling him Bobby’s like a father to him and he won’t let him die. When Bobby was suicidal and Dean sat down with him and when Charlie was grieving her parents and Dean saw and he listened. When he perpetually cooled Sam’s self-destructive desire for revenge in 1.21/1.22. Think about Dean and Victor’s instant, easy camaraderie in Jus In Bello. Think about Dean instantly gaining Ronald’s trust in Nightshifter. Think about the lawyer he convinced to help him and Sam in “Folsom Prison Blues”, or the cops in “The Usual Suspects” and “The Benders” who he got to believe him just by being sincere. Think about Crowley lovesick flipping through Flickr albums and Dean talking him through his toxic relationship with his mom. Think about Cas being tortured and conditioned to kill Dean thousands of times but not being able to do it when the time comes because of a simple plea. Think about Dean fighting through 360 degree combat looking for Cas even though Cas abandoned him and didn’t want to be found and Dean was the only source of fresh meat around. Think about Jo and Lisa swooning and Dean and Cassie accidentally breaking each other’s hearts. Think about Dean cleaning wounds and putting blankets over Sam and Cas’s shoulders when they’re sick and making people food, and sharing movies and music he loves with his best friend. Think about Dean kissing Charlie on the top of the head and cooking Kevin eggs and cooking Sam soup and burgers and cooking a birthday cake for Jack and making a Winchester Surprise with Mary and playing Words With Friends to try and connect. He’s the most loving guy in the whole wide world everyone wants to be loved by him or to be him or to hold him or be held by him there is blood and dirt under his nails he gets called a killer but he loves so so fiercely so so deeply he uses his hands to nurture and care for others he hugs so so tight and while the people he loves are beating him bloody he is reaching out to them snapping them out of it with love. He saved the world with love TWICE.

#dean the narrative heart #the hearth of the house #mail

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barelytolerabled · 5 months

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Speeding Hearts part 1

lando norris x fem!driverReader

summary: you and your best friend, Pierre Gasly, had the same dream. but now that you’re living it together you start to want something else, someone else.

WC: 3k272

——————————————————————————

From the moment you and Pierre Gasly met, you were inseparable. Growing up in the same small town, your shared passion for racing forged a bond that was unbreakable. As kids, you'd race each other on bicycles, then go-karts, and eventually in more powerful machines. Your dreams of Formula One burned brightly in your hearts.

The two of you made a pact, one that would echo through the years of your friendship: if you were ever fortunate enough to find a team in Formula One, it would be together or not at all.

Together, you endured the struggles and sacrifices that came with pursuing a career in motorsport. You celebrated each other's victories, consoled each other in defeat, and trained relentlessly to reach your shared goal. In the eyes of your friends and family, you were a package deal, a dynamic duo who stood as the epitome of friendship and teamwork.

As Alpine Racing welcomed both you and Pierre into its fold, the excitement was palpable. The realization of your childhood dream had become a reality. The gleaming Formula One cars stood before you, a testament to your perseverance and shared determination.

One crisp morning, the two of you found yourselves at a secluded test track. The air was charged with anticipation as you both prepared to unleash the power of the Alpine machine. Strapped into your respective cockpits, you exchanged a knowing glance that spoke volumes, this was a moment you'd both been waiting for.

The engines roared to life, and as you navigated the twists and turns of the track, the years seemed to peel away. The hum of the tires and the rush of wind brought you back to the days of karting on dusty circuits, chasing each other with unbridled joy. The camaraderie and competition were as alive as ever.

In a moment of complicity, Pierre signaled to you on the team radio. "Remember the karting days? Let's show them what we're made of." A grin spread across your face as you pushed the limits, mirroring the synchronized dance you'd perfected as kids.

As you tackled each corner, the memories flowed freely. The shared victories, the defeats that only fueled your determination, and the unspoken language you'd developed over the years.

The track became a canvas where your friendship was painted with every acceleration, every brake, and every perfectly executed maneuver. The thrill of speed merged seamlessly with the nostalgia of simpler times, creating a moment of complicity that transcended the confines of a Formula One test session.

For a fleeting instant, you and Pierre weren't just drivers for Alpine; you were the kids who once dreamed of this very moment, now living it together in the pinnacle of motorsport. The bond forged in those karting days had matured into something unbreakable, carrying you through the twists and turns of life and racing alike.

The checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the test session. As you and Pierre brought your Alpine monoplace to a smooth stop, a sense of accomplishment washed over you. The thrill of the track lingered, echoing in the air like a sweet melody.

With helmets in hand, you both stepped out of your respective cockpits, faces flushed with exhilaration and joy. A shared look passed between you, a silent acknowledgment of the journey that had led to this moment. The echoes of laughter from your karting days seemed to resonate in the pit area.

Unable to contain the elation, Pierre enveloped you in a spontaneous, tight embrace. The camaraderie and friendship that had weathered the years manifested in that simple yet profound gesture. The pit crew, observing the genuine connection between you two, couldn't help but share in the infectious joy.

Pierre grinned, his eyes reflecting the shared memories and dreams that had brought you both to this pinnacle. "We did it," he exclaimed, a mix of pride and excitement in his voice. You reciprocated the sentiment, "Together, just like we always said."

As the pit crew joined in the celebration, cheers and congratulations filled the air. It was a victory not just for Alpine Racing but for the enduring friendship that had withstood the test of time and trials.

The euphoria of the track still lingering, Pierre and you made your way to the first press meeting as Alpine drivers. The anticipation in the room was palpable as journalists gathered, eager to capture the essence of the new dynamic duo. With intertwined fingers under the table, a silent reassurance passed between you.

As the questions began, the room buzzed with curiosity. The first question, directed at you, cut straight to the heart of your connections. "A lot of people know your teammates thanks to his close friendship with Charles Leclerc. Are you also close to him?" The gaze between you and Pierre conveyed volumes. You took a moment, a smile playing on your lips, "Charles is a dear friend, and we've grown up together. But Pierre..." You glanced at him, a twinkle in your eye, "Pierre is my best friend. We share a connection that goes beyond the track."

The next question delved into the challenges of maintaining your friendship amidst the competitive world of Formula One. The room fell into a hush as the journalist asked, "Don't you think that your friendship could be destroyed by the sport, due to, for example, the rivalry?" Pierre and you exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between you. Pierre spoke with conviction, "We promised each other from the beginning that we'd do this together, and we meant it. No rivalry or competition will ever come between us. We're in this journey as one."

Then came the inevitable question, a sigh escaping the journalist's lips, "There are already rumors about you two being more than friends. What do you have to say?" The room seemed to hold its breath as you responded, "It's unfortunate that our friendship is questioned just because I'm a woman. Pierre and Charles have never faced such scrutiny. We're teammates, friends, and nothing more. The focus should be on our achievements on the track, not baseless rumors."

The room absorbed your words, and you and Pierre exchanged a knowing look. The unspoken promise echoed once more: no matter the challenges, your friendship would endure, unyielding against the backdrop of rumors and speculation.

The first practice session loomed, and the paddock buzzed with the energy of a thousand stories waiting to unfold. Cameras clicked and rolled, capturing the essence of the moment. You wander toward the bustling paddock, the echoes of conversations and the smell of rubber filling the air.

As you strolled through the maze of team motorhomes, a familiar figure caught your eye. Charles Leclerc, a smile lighting up his face, stood amidst the Ferrari team's setup. The two of you shared a brief but warm conversation, reminiscing about the times you spent together growing up. The camaraderie between you and Charles was evident, a connection that went beyond the competitive boundaries of the track.

Just as the conversation began to deepen, Pierre appeared on the scene, greeting Charles with a friendly nod. "Hey, Charles, good to see you," Pierre said, a sense of camaraderie evident in his tone. He turned to you, "Come on, let's head to the garage. We've got some work to do."

As Pierre guided you toward the Alpine garage, the whir of engines and the hum of activity filled the air. He led you to your designated spot, his focus on the task at hand.

Unbeknownst to you, the eyes of fellow drivers lingered. Some curious, some contemplative. The presence of a woman in the midst of Formula One, especially one closely associated with Pierre, had not gone unnoticed. The scrutiny, subtle yet palpable, escaped your attention as you familiarized yourself with the surroundings.

As the practice session approached, the noise intensified, drowning out the whispers of curiosity. The cameras continued to document every movement, focusing on Alpine's new dynamic duo. Little did you know, the world of Formula One was watching, captivated by the unfolding story that went beyond the confines of the racetrack.

In the heart of the bustling Alpine garage, the moment of focus and preparation had arrived. Pierre and you donned your racing suits, the familiar feel of the material a reassuring embrace. The air hummed with anticipation as the team worked swiftly around you, ensuring every detail was in place.

As you adjusted your gloves, Pierre caught your eye. There was a shared understanding between you two, a connection that transcended the spoken word. It was time for the pre-practice ritual.

Stepping closer, Pierre gently lifted his helmet visor, his eyes meeting yours. The world around you seemed to fade as you leaned in, pressing a brief but significant kiss on his helmet. It was a silent exchange, a gesture that spoke of shared determination and unspoken camaraderie.

The cameras, ever vigilant, captured the moment, freezing it in time for the world to see. The intimacy of the ritual wasn't lost on those observing from the sidelines. The team's photographer snapped candid shots, and rival teams' cameras discreetly recorded the exchange, curious eyes dissecting the dynamic between Alpine's inseparable duo.

With the ritual complete, Pierre enveloped you in a tight hug. The familiar scent of racing fuel lingered in the air as you embraced, drawing strength from each other. It was a ritual born from years of friendship and shared dreams.

A last exchanged look conveyed a silent understanding, this was the moment they had prepared for, the culmination of years of hard work and unwavering friendship. With a nod, you and Pierre headed toward the awaiting Alpine monoplace, leaving the garage behind.

The cameras continued to roll, capturing the start of a new chapter in your Formula One journey. The whispers of intrigue echoed through the paddock, but for Pierre and you, the only focus was the track ahead. As the engines roared to life, the world of Formula One awaited the unfolding story of Alpine's inseparable duo.

The thrill of the first free practice was still coursing through your veins as you faced a barrage of questions from journalists. Microphones and cameras surrounded you, capturing the essence of the moment.

A journalist inquired, "So, how was your first free practice?" A wide smile adorned your face as you responded, "It was beyond incredible. To finally be out there, on the track, living my dream alongside my best friend—there are no words to describe the feeling. I loved every moment of it."

"After this first try, who in the grid takes your interest?" A thoughtful expression crossed your face, and you replied, "That's a tough one. There are so many incredibly talented drivers on the grid. Lewis Hamilton, of course, is a legend, and the way he approaches each race is truly admirable."

You took a moment, considering the question further. "And then there's Lando Norris. His style of driving has fascinated me. There's a certain flair, a uniqueness to the way he tackles the track. It's inspiring to see a fellow driver bring such individuality to their performance."

As the questions continued, you shared insights into the challenges of the circuit and the exhilaration of being part of the Alpine team. The journalists, keen on unraveling the narrative behind Alpine's newest addition, hung onto your every word.

In the midst of the interview, a familiar presence approached. Pierre wrapped his arms around your waist, eliciting a giggle from you. "Sorry to interrupt," he grinned, "but the team is waiting for us. They want to film some content, heard about iced bath and whatnot. You ready for it?"

The unexpected interruption added a playful touch to the moment, and you nodded, "Absolutely, let's go." As you and Pierre made your way toward the waiting team, the journalists couldn't help but capture the candid scene—Alpine's inseparable duo, sharing laughter and camaraderie amidst the intense atmosphere of the paddock.

The team cameras were rolling as you and Pierre approached the iced baths, ready for the team's fun challenge. The atmosphere was light-hearted, and the paddock buzzed with anticipation as fans eagerly awaited a glimpse into the behind-the-scenes camaraderie of the Alpine team.

Pierre, sporting shorts, and you, in a two pieces bathing suit, exchanged playful banter, knowing what awaited. As the cameras zoomed in, you both shared a grin, playfully acknowledging the impending icy dip.

But as you hesitated near the iced bath, Pierre couldn't resist teasing, "Hey, remember when we used to take baths together as kids? You always made the water boiling!" You playfully retaliated, "What are you talking about? You were the one who poured only iced water!" The banter continued, each of you laughing as you relived childhood bath-time antics.

Ever watchful, Pierre stepped in front of you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. It was a spontaneous and genuine gesture, shielding you from the exposure to the cameras. Nestling against his shoulder, your shared understanding spoke volumes, conveying the comfort of an enduring friendship.

The fans caught your reaction, the laughter, the friendly bickering, adding a warm and familiar touch to the content. The rapport between you and Pierre was evident, showcasing the camaraderie that defined your partnership beyond the racetrack.

Encouraged by Pierre's support, you finally took a brave step into the iced bath. Pierre remained in front, still shielding you, until you were comfortably settled. With a nod and a smile, you acknowledged his support, feeling grateful for the friend who always had your back.

Fully immersed in the challenge, Pierre, with a playful grin, joined you in the iced bath. Laughter and playful arguments about the water's temperature ensued, each of you enjoying the icy challenge and the chance to share a moment of camaraderie beyond the intense world of Formula One. The team cameras captured these shared moments, providing fans with a glimpse into the authentic and light-hearted relationship that defined Alpine's inseparable duo.

As you relaxed on the bed, enjoying a moment of quiet, Pierre's phone buzzed, signaling an incoming call. Answering with a casual "Hello," Pierre's expression shifted as he listened intently. After a brief conversation, he hung up, a smile playing on his lips.

"Guess what?" Pierre exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "There's a dinner tonight, a celebration for the start of the season. All the drivers will be there."

Your eyes widened at the news, a mixture of surprise and anticipation. "Really? That sounds amazing," you replied, the prospect of meeting fellow drivers adding an extra layer of excitement to the already eventful day.

Pierre continued, "It's a great opportunity to mingle with everyone. Plus, they're hosting it to welcome you into the Formula One family officially. You need to know other drivers than just me and Charles."

As you considered the invitation, Pierre reassured you, "Don't worry, you'll love it. And besides, you've got me by your side. Let's celebrate the beginning of an incredible season together."

Emerging from the bathroom, you were dressed for the dinner in an outfit that reflected both elegance and comfort, a balance you hoped would fit the occasion. As you stepped into the room, Pierre turned from where he had been getting ready, a smile forming on his face.

"Wow," he exclaimed, appreciatively taking in your appearance. "You look absolutely wonderful."

A touch of uncertainty lingered, and you couldn't help but ask, "You think it's not too much, or maybe it's just ugly?"

Pierre stepped closer, "Not at all. You look fantastic. Elegant, confident, and perfect for the occasion. Trust me, you're going to turn heads tonight, and for all the right reasons."

His genuine compliment eased any lingering doubt, and a sense of confidence washed over you. With a grateful smile, you nodded, "Thanks, Pierre. I appreciate your honesty."

Together, you made your way to the venue of the dinner, the anticipation building with every step. The energy of the bustling paddock now transformed into a more relaxed, celebratory atmosphere as drivers, teams, and Formula One personalities gathered to mark the beginning of a new season.

You gracefully navigated the room, exchanging greetings and smiles with fellow drivers. Charles , standing nearby, caught your eye. With a familiar warmth, you said hello, and soon, a conversation unfolded, providing a comforting anchor amidst the sea of new faces.

As you engaged in a conversation with Charles, the ambiance of the room echoed with laughter and the hum of animated discussions. The camaraderie within the Formula One family was palpable, making the experience feel like a reunion of old friends.

However, the moment arrived when you were called to gather around the table. Pierre, of course, had reserved a seat for you right beside him. As you took your place, a sense of familiarity and comfort enveloped you. To your surprise and delight, on the other side of you was none other than Lando Norris.

"Hey there," Lando greeted with a friendly smile. "Excited for the season?"

You nodded, "Absolutely. It's a dream come true to be part of all this."

Pierre, leaning over from his seat, chimed in, "And having the best company, of course."

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, a sense of exhaustion began to weigh on you. The adrenaline that fueled the day now transitioned into a yearning for the comfort of the hotel bed. Sensing your fatigue, you turned to Pierre, "I think I'm going to head back to the hotel early. It's been a long day."

Pierre nodded and started to get up, ready to accompany you. However, you insisted, "No, stay and celebrate. I'll be fine. I just need some rest."

Pierre began to argue back, concerned about leaving you alone, but before he could protest further, Lando interjected. "Mate, I'm knackered too. I can walk her back if you want."

Pierre looked torn for a moment, torn between the desire to celebrate with friends and the instinct to ensure your well-being. After a moment's contemplation, he relented, "Alright, thanks, Lando. Just send me a message when you arrive, okay?"

Grateful for the compromise, you smiled at Pierre and kiss his cheek slightly, "I promise. Enjoy the rest of the evening. I'll catch up on all the stories tomorrow."

As you and Lando made your way out, the night air providing a refreshing contrast to the lively atmosphere inside, you exchanged a few words of gratitude. Lando, being the gentleman he was, assured you, "No worries. And don't forget to send that message to Pierre, else he'll be panicking."

Outside the hotel room, as you bid goodnight to Lando, he seemed to fidget nervously. "Hey, um, I heard you talking earlier about finding my driving fascinating to the journalists. Is that true?"

You chuckled at his genuine curiosity, "Yeah, absolutely. Your style on the track caught my attention. It's like watching an artist at work."

Lando blushed slightly, "Really? I mean, I just drive how I feel, you know?"

"Exactly," you reassured him, "That's what makes it fascinating. It's authentic, and it adds a unique flair to the races."

He grinned, "Thanks for saying that. It's just... I never thought people would describe my driving like that."

"Well, get used to it. You're making an impression out there," you replied, offering encouragement. "Now, get some rest, and I'll see you on the track tomorrow."

Just as you were about to close the door, Lando hesitated for a moment before asking, "Hey, would you be up for grabbing breakfast tomorrow before the second free practice? It could be a good chance to chat more about racing and stuff."

You smiled at the invitation, appreciating the camaraderie, "Sure, sounds like a plan. Text me the details, and I'll meet you in the morning."

With a final nod, Lando gave a friendly wave and headed down the hallway. Closing the door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth from the connections formed in just one day.

Safe in bed, bonne nuit Pierre💗

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #pierre gasly #charles leclerc #f1

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Text

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

When your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: injury (no details)

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You can finally feel the music again.

Your legs push at the ice in tandem with Sirius’, taking his hand before drifting away from him again to the melody of the strings. That lightness is back, the intuitive rhythm you’d had with the routine before Regulus’ injury threw you off-balance. Every sweep of your foot underneath you, every stretch of your arms and back feels right in a way you thought you’d lost during the last two practices. Maybe more right than it ever has.

You return Sirius’ smile as you finish, hands linked with your arms extended between you, and Coach practically whoops from the edge of the rink.

“That’s what I like to see,” he declares. “We’ve got some stuff to clean up—you came out of that last spin too fast, Y/N, and Sirius, I wanna see you let her get lower on the death spiral—but that was great, great progress. If we keep at it, I think we’ll be ready for comp.”

You can’t stop smiling, giddy at the prospect of getting to perform such an impressive routine when, just yesterday, you thought you might never be ready. Sirius sets a hand on your shoulder, squeezing excitedly, and you don’t shake him off like you usually might. Whatever his flaws, something had changed last night between you and Sirius. You wouldn’t call it friendship just yet, but there’s a sort of camaraderie now, an understanding of your mutual investment in this partnership, this routine. You have to work together, and it may as well not be an entirely unpleasant experience for the both of you. Plus, it means you get to enjoy moments like this. You place your hand atop his, squeezing back.

“Ready to go again?” Coach says. “Let’s take it from the spiral sequence.”

☆ ☆ ☆

Over the few practices, you and Sirius become more and more in tune with each other, until you suspect no one would guess you haven’t been partners all along. You’re beginning to forget that too. The feeling of his hands on you has become a familiar pressure, you’ve learned to anticipate each other’s tiny movements in a split second, and you’ve grown fond of Sirius’ grander style of skating, enjoying the flow of mirroring his maneuvers. You’ve begun mirroring his expressions, too, returning his smiles automatically and engaging with the playful looks he sends you when one of you wobbles or misses a step.

Though you’ve always had fun with Regulus, he’s all business on the ice. Sirius rarely stops joking around, seeming to find everything amusing even though you know skating really is important to him. He’s at the rink early every day and on the days when he doesn’t walk you home, stays late to correct whatever mistakes he made during practice. It’s rare for your coach to give him a direction during one session that he hasn’t implemented seamlessly by the next.

Another difference: whereas Regulus has raw talent, Sirius works hard for it.

Drive isn’t something you honestly would’ve associated with him before, but you suppose that’s because he never draws attention to it. He’ll give up his practice to help you fine-tune a difficult turn in an instant and he’s more given to speculating about what your costumes will look like than discussing his efforts to improve his form, but left to his own devices, Sirius will drill and drill a move until not even your coach can find flaw in it.

Still, you would never guess that he’s even trying to concentrate as he winks at you, the both of you coming out of a synchronized turn and going into arabesque. Your fingertips brush for the barest of seconds, and you can’t say whether it’s the wink or that which takes your mind off your skates as you launch into one of your solo jumps, but your thoughts are spinning nearly as quickly as your vision as you twist through the air.

You feel the slip, the slight shift of your back foot to where it shouldn’t be, while you’re still airborne, but there’s no time to correct it before you’re hitting the ground, skate catching oddly on the ice. Your leg twists under you, and you throw yourself to the side before you can land on the blade. You feel something pop before your shoulder hits the wall that borders the rink with a dull thud.

Naturally, you’ve managed to turn a small error into a spectacle of injury. Your pride hurts worse than anything, but your knee is fighting hard for second place. Already the initial sharp pain has given way to a manageable throbbing, but it feels stiff, locked in place. There’s a swish of blades, and then Sirius is beside you, eyes darting over you with something close to panic.

“Are you okay?” His hands ghost over your shoulder, your face. “What hurts?”

You push yourself up with your hands, trying to straighten your leg before hissing in pain.

“Don’t.” Sirius sets a hand just above your knee as if to stop you from repeating the motion. “Don’t move. Is it your ankle?”

You swallow, feeling like you could burst into tears. If you have to sit out this season, after all your hard work, you’re going to be so disappointed in yourself. “My knee. I don’t think it’s bad,” you say, knowing that’s probably wishful thinking.

“Hopefully not,” he agrees, and your coach finally makes it to you, crouching by your leg.

“Does anything feel broken?” he asks, prodding at your shin. “Dislocated?”

“I, um,” you hesitate to admit to anything too drastic, as if that’ll change the actual severity of whatever’s wrong with you, “I felt something pop, but it doesn’t feel dislocated. And it doesn’t look like it, right?”

“Right.” Coach pokes at your knee, and you flinch a little, gasping. “I don’t love that, though.”

“You hit the wall with your shoulder too, didn’t you?” Sirius’ expression is as severe as you’ve ever seen it, and you find yourself shrinking under all the attention.

“Yeah, but that’s fine,” you reply hastily. “It’ll probably just bruise.”

Coach eyes you, a preparatory disappointment in his gaze that worsens your own apprehension. “Can you put weight on it?”

You hesitate, and Sirius steps in before you can answer. “Let’s not chance it, yeah?”

Coach nods. “Okay, yeah, let’s end practice for today. Go get it checked out and text me what you find out, alright?”

You nod, and neither he nor Sirius seem angry with you, but that does nothing to stop the acute upset that’s forming in your chest. “Okay.”

Sirius eases an arm carefully under your knees, slipping the other behind your back. He’s slow as he brings you to his chest, watching your face. “Does that hurt?”

You shake your head, and he stands with you in his arms, making his way to the exit.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper, hiding your face in his shoulder as tears arrive unbidden, distorting your vision. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Hey.” Sirius’ breath is warm on your forehead as he speaks softly, head bent over yours. “Don’t be sorry. You aren’t messing anything up, it was an easy mistake.” He steps off the ice, setting you down on the bleachers and ducking his head until you’re looking at him. “It might still be nothing, yeah? Maybe you just tweaked something. So don’t cry just yet, shortcake, alright?”

You nod, wiping embarrassedly under your eyes. Sirius sits on the bench below you, unlacing your skates before you can even think to reach for them. “And even if you were out for the rest of the season,” he says lightly, “you’d just be coordinating your break with Regulus, and then the two of you could perform together next season.” He slips your first skate off, starting on the second. “Just like you wanted, yeah?”

You look at him, pieces of hair that have escaped the knot in the back of his head falling in his face as his fingers move deftly over your laces. You do want to skate with Regulus again, but you’re not so ready to forgo this season as you might’ve been when he was first taken out of the running. You like having Sirius as a partner. You enjoy practicing with him, talking with him, just being around him. And if this is your only season to do that, you’re not ready to give it up quite yet.

“Yeah,” you say weakly, and something indecipherable flickers across Sirius’ face before he pulls your other foot free of your skate. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, sunshine.” He grins at you, whatever you might’ve seen skillfully hidden away. “I’m known for being great at pep talks, you know.”

You do your best to match his playful tone. “I believe it.”

“Alright.” He pats your good knee, standing. “Do you think you could get a ride home? I’d carry you the whole way if I could, but I’m not sure you’d thank me for it if I messed up our throws tomorrow.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure I can get a ride. Thanks, though.”

You expect Sirius to leave, but he sits with you until your ride arrives, insisting on helping you to the car when you won’t let him carry you. After a long and somewhat teary phone call with Regulus that night, you make an appointment with a doctor for the next morning, where they tell you have something called a meniscus tear. You leave with a compression bandage around your knee and instructions to rest over the next couple of days. Coach echoes your relief over the phone, saying he’ll train with just Sirius until you can come back to practice and making you swear to do nothing but rest your knee until then.

You almost call Sirius, too, but eventually settle for telling Regulus, sure that he’ll convey the message. You’ve never been happier to have to sit around, especially since it means you’ll still be able to compete this year.

And you never thought you’d be this enthusiastic to finish out the season with Sirius Black, but you can’t wait until your next practice.

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nyxhaven · 6 months

Text

Seeking A Warm Body (gale x gn reader smut 18+)

On a frigid and rain-soaked night in camp, Tav's thoughts turn to the possibility of sharing a tent with their charismatic fellow traveler, Gale, purely for warmth. As the relentless downpour intensifies, Tav contemplates the unspoken connection between them, wondering if their camaraderie might evolve into something more. With a surge of courage, Tav approaches Gale's tent, seeking solace from the bitter cold, and in the cozy confines of shared warmth, they discover that sometimes, on a night as raw and unpredictable as this one, the line between friendship and something deeper blurs in the soft glow of lantern light.

Amid the persistent drumming of raindrops on the canvas tents, Tav sat by the flickering glow of a campfire, shivering slightly as the chill of the night seeped into their bones. They stared into the dancing flames, lost in thought. Across the camp, Gale, their adventurous and enigmatic companion, was huddled under a separate tent, their silhouette barely visible through the rain-smeared fabric.

Tav's thoughts wandered as they considered the idea of sharing a tent with Gale. It wasn't unusual for travelers to bunk together for warmth on such a cold, wet night. The rain had been falling steadily since the late afternoon, turning the camp into a mud-soaked quagmire. The campfire, though valiant in its efforts, provided limited respite from the pervasive dampness.

Tav stole a glance towards Gale's tent. Was it mere practicality that kept them apart, or was there something more? Gale was known for their cheerful demeanor and their charismatic tales around the campfire, but Tav had sensed something deeper in the glances and smiles exchanged between them. A connection that went beyond the camaraderie of fellow travelers.

The rain intensified, its pitter-patter on the tent turning into a persistent hiss. Tav felt a shiver run down their spine, and with each passing minute, the idea of sharing a tent for warmth became more appealing. They took a deep breath and gathered the courage to approach Gale's tent.

As they unzipped the flap and entered, the dim light from a lantern revealed Gale huddled in a bed roll, reading a weathered old book. Startled, Gale looked up, their eyes wide with surprise.

Tav cleared their throat, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's getting really cold out there, and my tent feels like an icebox. Would you mind if I joined you for a bit, just to stay warm?"

Gale's face broke into a warm smile, their eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course, Tav, come on in. It's a tight fit, but I think we'll manage."

With a grateful nod, Tav zipped up the tent, now only realizing gales magic hes used to make the inside of his tent much larger then it looks on the outside and they settled in close, the warmth of the bed roll providing an instant respite from the bitter cold. The rain continued to pour outside, but within the cozy confines of the tent, Tav and Gale found them selves face to faces their noses grazing each others. Gale couldn’t help himself from smiling.

“you look very pretty tonight tav.” gale states holding his breath in response.

“thank you Gale, you’re always so kind to me. you’re not half bad looking either.” Tav jest getting a laugh from the both of them.

gale reaches over him, leaning himself close over the top of Tav. tav can feel his breath on their ear as he dims the latern down. “let’s make it more comfortable, is this nice?” gale says low and softly.

Gales voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“stay as many nights as you wish in these walls.” Gale replies cupping tavs face, the water droplets on Tavs eyelashes fell to their face when they blinked. still damp from the elements gale wipes the water droplets off their cheeks. Gale noticed Tavs eyes for all they were illuminated dimly by the lantern. Gale chewed on his bottom lip. his hand slid back and begins to rub Tavs earlope softly. His hand slids its way down the side of Tavs body, stopping at his waist he pulls Tav in. Their bodies pressed close in the bed roll. “by the gods you are cold, You shoulda come in sooner.” Gale says caringly

Gale leans into kiss Tav pulling them in there lips meeting. Gales kiss start soft, and careful. Quickly they become sloppy and deep with passion. Tav doesn't see gale like this, possesive, he has your attention and doesn't want to loose it. Tav follows the tango with gales mouth, giving in to his urges. Gales hand explore Tavs back finding the small of it, pulling Tav into him, placing his leg between Tavs. Gales fingers find the hem of their shirt pulling the wet clothes over Tavs head exposing their bare chest. Gale immediately places kisses down their chest like he's claiming Tav all for his greedy self. Tavs hips grind against gales thigh placed between their heat. Luckily for Tav their pants are already partly wet as they are already wet with excitement.

Gales finger play at the waistband of tavs pants. Wanting to get the wet leather off their soft skin, he unbuttoned Tavs pants. Almost whining into the kisses begging Tav. Tav pulls the soft velvet tunic of over gales head. “Take your pants of Gale” tav whispers against his soft scruff.

Gale lifts his hips and pulls his trousers and briefs down kicking them off to the side of the tent somewhere. Tav follows suit balling up their wet clothes throwing them back into the cold. Now both naked gale lays over Tav holding himself up, looking down at them Gale reignites the passionate kissing.

“I want you Gale.” Tav says softly.

“Im all yours already, you just didn't see it.”

“Please just go slow, I haven't done this in a while.” (pov switch)

“No need to worry when you are in my arms.” Gale says kissing your lips. “Just watch me, now spit.” Gale says holding his cupped hand below your chin. Meeting his desires, he adds his own saliva to his hand before leaning back using his spare hand he pushes his hair out of his face painting, the gale that stood before you was not the gale you saw in the daylight with your companions, no, Gale was nothing but a acolyte ready to worship his God. Wetting his cock with the handful of your spit he using the remainder of your slick to wet the skin around your hole. You feel the calloused fingers of the scholared wizard tease you before slipping his middle finger into you, slightly pulling it out before reinserting it.

“You alright?” Gale checks in. You nod as your breath hitches as you tighten around his knuckle. “Wonderful”

Gale slips another finger into you stretching you out before setting a steady pace watching you pant, studying you like an ancient tome, learning where you like to feel his long fingers explore inside you. Pulling his fingers out he holds them up to his lips. Making eye contact his sucks yours and his juices of his fingers. Grabbing your ankle and setting it on his shoulder his pulls your hips into him. He places the head of his large dick on your hole. “Youre gonna be so good for me, I'll go slow, just breathe.” you realize how just how thick the girth of gales cock is as it rest, ready to enter you. Gale slowly prods the tip inside you, stretching you hole around the length of Gale. The heat of the moment fills the tent, the thunder in the back round rolling as Gale brought himself out and buried himself back again inside you.

You let out a flurry of deep breaths and gales name. Luckily the rain beat the canvas tent shielding your mess of joined moans from your companions sleeping in tents just feet away. Gales dick thrust into you finding the spot that makes you dig you nails into his arm. Gales pelvis slaps into your ass as he holds your leg up against him allowing him to enter deeper into you. Your walls tighten around him, looking up, gales hair falling into his face, his neck and pecks beaded with sweat. He has an intense look on his face as he focuses on making the person he's with feel pleasure. Feeling his full length in you brings the wave of your orgasm rushing in. Letting out a loud moan gales name makes its way to your lips you ride the waves of pleasure from your orgasm. Gale removes his cock pumping it over your center releasing a large load across your stomach. Gales hips buck into his hand as he leaks his final bit of semen.

Gale grabs his tunic he had thrown on he ground and cleans you up nicely and gently, tossing it back aside Gale settles back into the bedroll and holds you in his arm. He traces his finger over your skin as you listen to the rain and thunder. Gale whispers sweet nothings praising you for how good you did before dozing off ready for the next day. Thankful for the warm body Gale provided on a rainy night.

A/N had the day off enjoy this quick one shot, lemme know who to write next pls! I'm thinking probably halsin 🐻🍯

#bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x gn!reader #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #smut #fanfic

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yournameloveskpop · 2 months

Note

stray kids 9th member reader where she is a secret stripper? She goes to her job which the boys don’t know about (she is never available on tuesday’s as that’s when she works) and the boys decide to go to the club that she works at unbeknown that she works there. They sit down and after an hour one of the boys notices someone who looks like you from behind. They end up finding out.. (it could lead into a smut plot or it could go into angst where the boys argue with you as they’re worried about your safety)

Stripper

Paring: stray kids x Reader

Warning: stripper reader, 9th member reader, angst.

Word count: 1805

The buzz of the city night wrapped around the Stray Kids members as they ventured into a club, seeking a break from their rigorous schedules. Unknown to them, they were about to stumble upon Y/N's deepest secret.

As they settled into their seats, the room vibrated with anticipation, music pulsating through the air.

"Hey, why don't we make Tuesdays our regular night out? Y/N's always busy anyway," suggested Jeongin, unknowingly inching closer to the truth behind Y/N's absences.

"That's a good idea, but have we ever figured out what she does on Tuesdays?" Felix pondered aloud, scanning the crowd.

Before anyone could answer, the stage lit up, drawing their attention to the performer about to take the stage. It was then Chanbin nudged Felix, his eyes wide. "Doesn't she look a lot like Y/N from the back?"

"No way," Felix scoffed, but as the performer turned and began her routine, his skepticism faded, replaced by disbelief. "Guys, that's Y/N!"

The others followed his gaze, squinting through the dim light, until she turned, launching into her performance with a confidence that left them in a mixture of shock, awe, and confusion.

The table erupted into chaos. Jeongin’s eyes went wide, a hand flying to his nose as it began to bleed, the result of his overactive imagination sparked by the sight before him.

“I—I can’t believe it’s her,” he stammered, scrambling for tissues.

Next to him, BangChan shifted uncomfortably, the images in his mind a stark contrast to the innocent camaraderie they shared. "This changes everything," he muttered, a mix of concern and discomfort in his voice.

Chanbin, caught off guard, choked on his drink, the liquid spilling messily down his chin as he coughed violently, "I can't believe Y/N is a stripper!"

As the performance unfolded, Felix couldn't help but be impressed. "She's amazing out there," he whispered, not taking his eyes off Y/N.

Seungmin, beside him, alternated between watching and covering his eyes. "I knew she was talented, but this is a whole new level," he admitted, his voice a mix of admiration and shock.

Halfway through, Y/N's gaze found theirs. The recognition was instant, and a wave of panic swept over her. Despite this, she didn't falter, continuing her performance with even more intensity.

Making a bold decision, she approached their table, locking eyes with Felix. "Enjoying the show?" she asked, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her nerves.

Felix, his heart racing, managed a grin. "You're amazing, Y/N. We had no idea."

Y/N smirked, then turned her attention to Jeongin, giving him a playful, yet provocative lap dance. "How about you, Jeongin? Surprised?"

Jeongin, barely able to speak as his nosebleed worsened, nodded. She whispered something in his ear, sending shivers down his spine, her smirk widening at his flustered reaction. With a final, daring move, she left a piece of her clothing on his lap, a silent token of the night’s unforgettable events, before sauntering back to the stage, leaving Jeongin dumbfounded, eyes glued to the fabric that held her scent.

As the performance concluded, the boys were left in a whirlwind of emotions. BangChan and Minho’s discomfort grew, their protective instincts clashing with the stark reality of Y/N’s other life. Their gazes darkened, not with judgment, but with concern, a silent pledge to confront the complexities of their relationship with Y/N, respecting her choices but fearing for the implications.

The silence that enveloped the Stray Kids members as they left the club was heavy, each step echoing their tumultuous thoughts. The revelation of Y/N's secret life as a stripper had blindsided them, sparking a storm of emotions that ranged from shock to concern, especially within BangChan and Minho, who felt a protective duty towards her.

It wasn't until they were back in the sanctuary of their shared living space that the tension finally broke. The living room became a battleground for the conflict that had been brewing since their discovery.

BangChan was the first to break the silence, his voice a mix of anger and worry. "Y/N, how could you keep this from us? Do you have any idea how dangerous that could be?"

Y/N, still donned in her coat, masking the remnants of her other life, stood defiantly, a stark contrast to the concerned faces around her. "I didn't think I had to report everything to you guys. It's my life, my choice."

Minho stepped forward, his usually calm demeanor now replaced with visible frustration. "It's not about controlling you, Y/N. It's about your safety. That environment... it's not safe for anyone, let alone a public figure like you."

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices as each member tried to weigh in, their bond straining under the pressure of the argument. Jeongin, Felix, and Seungmin, though shocked, tried to mediate, offering soothing words amidst the turmoil.

"I understand wanting to express yourself, but there are other ways, Y/N," Felix tried to reason, his words getting lost in the escalating argument.

Y/N, her frustration growing, shot back, "You think I don't know that? You think I chose this because it was fun? It started way before Stray Kids, before I had any of you!"

The admission stunned the room into silence, the weight of her words hanging heavy. They had all shared their past struggles, but Y/N had always been more reserved, her past a closed book that she seldom opened.

BangChan, his anger subsiding into concern, softened his tone. "Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped you."

"It's not about needing help. It was my battle, and I was dealing with it my way. I didn't want you all to see me any differently," Y/N confessed, her voice breaking with emotion.

Minho, struggling to reconcile his protective instincts with his respect for Y/N's autonomy, found his voice. "Seeing you differently? Y/N, you're our family. But knowing you're in a place like that, every week, risking your safety... How do you think that makes us feel?"

The conversation spiraled into an emotional exchange, with Y/N defending her independence and the members, especially BangChan and Minho, voicing their fears for her well-being. The argument reached its peak when BangChan, unable to contain his worry, exclaimed, "What if something happened to you? What then? We couldn't live with ourselves knowing we could have done something to prevent it."

Y/N, tears brimming in her eyes, countered, "I'm not a child, Chan. I made my choices, and I stood by them. I don't need saving, especially not from myself."

The room fell silent, the air thick with unsaid words and unresolved tension. It was Jisung who eventually spoke, his voice a whisper compared to the earlier clamor. "We're scared for you, Y/N. Not because we don't trust you, but because we can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

Hyunjin nodded, adding, "We don't want to control your life, Y/N. We just want you in it, safe and sound. That's all any of us want."

The earnest expressions on their faces, the genuine concern in their eyes, broke down the last of Y/N's defenses. She realized then that her secret had not only put her at risk but had also burdened the ones she cared about most with worry and fear.

"I... I didn't realize how much this would hurt you all. I was so caught up in my own world, my own reasons, that I didn't see the bigger picture," Y/N admitted, her voice soft, laden with remorse.

BangChan stepped forward, the leader in him taking over, his previous anger now replaced with understanding. "We all have our pasts, our demons. But we face them together, as a team, as a family. Let us help you, Y/N, not because you're weak, but because we're stronger together."

Minho, still visibly shaken but reaching a point of understanding, added, "We don't have to like every choice you make, Y/N, but we do have to respect them. Just promise us you'll think of your safety, and ours, in whatever you do."

Y/N stood there, a mixture of remorse and relief washing over her as the group's warmth enveloped her. BangChan, sensing her vulnerability, closed the gap between them with a few steps, his arms opening in a silent offer of comfort. As he wrapped her in a tight embrace, her defenses finally crumbled, and she began to sob onto his shoulder, her tears a testament to the emotional turmoil she'd been holding back.

"It's okay, Y/N. You're not alone in this," BangChan whispered softly, his words barely audible over the sound of her cries.

One by one, the other members observed the unfolding scene, their faces reflecting a range of emotions from concern to empathy. They moved forward, hesitantly at first, then with more certainty, adding their own arms to the embrace. The living room was soon filled with the sight of a single, united group hug, a silent vow to protect and support Y/N through her struggles.

"Hey, we've got you," Felix murmured, his voice muffled as he too joined the hug, patting Y/N's back reassuringly.

Jeongin, despite his earlier discomfort, stepped in closer, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a more somber one. "No one's facing anything alone. Not on our watch," he added, a firmness to his words that belied his youthful appearance.

As the embrace tightened, Minho finally spoke, his voice laced with emotion. "Just promise us, Y/N. Promise us you'll consider your safety—and ours—in whatever you do. That's all we ask."

The warmth and unconditional support from the group slowly seeped into Y/N, her sobs gradually subsiding as the reality of their bond, stronger than ever, began to sink in. She nodded against BangChan's shoulder, her voice still shaky but filled with newfound determination.

"I promise. And...I'm sorry for not realizing sooner how much this would affect all of you. I was so wrapped up in...in my own world," she managed to say, pulling back slightly to look at each of them. "I guess I forgot that I have a whole family right here. One that cares so much."

BangChan, releasing her from the hug but still holding her shoulders, gave her a gentle, affirming smile. "It's okay, Y/N. We all make mistakes, get lost sometimes. What matters is that we find our way back—together."

The room, once heavy with tension and unspoken fears, now radiated a sense of unity and resolve. As they stepped back from the hug, the atmosphere was no longer one of conflict but of collective strength, a shared commitment to face whatever the future held, together.

#stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #stray kids #skz #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids x female reader #skz x female reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x 9th member #skz x reader

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your-eternal-lies · 7 days

Text

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter seven)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Warnings — None.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER SEVEN EVERY OUNCE OF WARMTH

The elevator hums its monotonous tune, unmoving and unyielding, the sound grating on your nerves. You and Steve have been trapped between floors for what feels like an eternity now, and as much as you’ve come to enjoy his company and conversation, the small space seems to shrink even further with each passing second.

Steve’s super-serum blood probably doing its work to quell the chill of the metal box. You, on the other hand, shiver slightly from your spot in the corner. You rub your arms slowly, trying not to draw too much attention to the fact that you’re a bit cold now.

You hazard a glance at Steve, hoping that he’s too preoccupied with the elevator’s control panel to notice that the thin cotton of your PJs and the stretchy fabric of your tank top are about as useful as a chocolate teapot against the creeping chill.

You would reach into your pile of dirty laundry and rummage for a wrinkled sweater to put on in the meantime, but—oh god—what if it smelled? You would just die of embarrassment, and you can’t take that chance. You would rather freeze to death!

But then he turns and sees you. “Oh, geez, look at you.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he picks up his jacket that’s hanging off the handrail, shaking it out a few times.

“Here,” he says, holding out his jacket for you to wear, offering you a half-smile that’s both sheepish and earnest. “It’s better than nothing.”

Your eyes flick from the jacket to Steve’s face, smiling shyly as he urges you silently by shaking the garment a little. You turn your back to him, looping your arms into the sleeves, the fabric whispering up your skin and wrapping you in warmth.

You can’t help but notice the scent of Steve’s cologne clings to the leather—a subtle, earthy aroma that reminds you of pine trees and freedom, or whatever else these types of heroes are supposed to smell like.

And then, in a moment of surprising boldness, Steve closes the gap between you with a tentative step. You look up at him in astonishment as he feigns nonchalance, draping an arm around your shoulders in an almost protective gesture.

Snap out of it, you have to tell yourself. He’s just trying to keep you warm.

“Better?” He asks quietly, as if afraid the walls might be listening.

“Thanks,” you nod, your voice just as quiet. The ensuing silence between you grows cozy rather than awkward, a shared camaraderie—and maybe a bit of something else—blooming in the stale elevator air. “My hero. And I didn’t even have to get kidnapped first.”

The tender moment comes to a screeching halt in an instant, and he sends you a wry smile. “I’m convinced anyone who kidnapped you would return you within the hour.”

“Excuse me?” You roll your eyes. “I’ll have you know that I am a total hoot.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Steve tries his best to keep his eyes focussed on the digital floor indicator above the elevator doors, but your initial rigidity melts away under the pressure of his arm. Slowly, you shift, your head finding a resting place against his shoulder.

“Comfy?” He whispers, unable to help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth as he murmurs the word.

“Your shoulder is surprisingly pillow-like,” you quip, the remnants of your sarcastic humour flickering through your drowsy tone. He has to practically hold you upright against him, and he guides the both of you to lean against the wall, perched against the handrail to allow you to relax a bit better.

“Years of practice,” Steve quips back, playing along with the momentary lightness. “All that standing at attention did wonders for my posture.”

Your responding chuckle is a tired sound, but it warms him more than any uniform ever had. He takes a peek at you, watching your face relax in slumber, and Steve feels something stir within him.

It’s a strange sensation, this burgeoning fondness for someone whose last name he doesn’t even know. Yet, here you are, trusting him enough to drift off while leaning against his chest.

The LED lights overhead cast a soft glow upon your features, highlighting the gentle curve of your cheek in a play of light and shadow. He notes the slight parting of your lips as you breath, the faint flutter of your eyelids during dreams he can only ever guess at.

It’s the kind of scene an artist might try to recreate, complete with a lofty title meant to evoke the poignancy of the human condition.

A sense of protectiveness washes over him then, mingling with an affection that is as surprising as it is sincere. In the quiet hum of machinery at rest, Steve allows himself a rare moment of peace, his heartbeat a steady counter-rhythm to your softer pulses.

His thoughts drift, meandering through the maze of memories that’s accumulated in the short span of your acquaintance. It all started with a chance meeting by the mailboxes, a fumbled hello, an awkward dance around your eager dog Chuck, exchanged with a woman who only seemed to see him as another tenant.

But he’s here with you now, sharing warmth and whispers, with you asleep in his arms. The realization hits him like a vibranium shield to his chest; despite the chaos of his life, despite how much he’s tried to run from it, Steve is smitten.

Not with just the idea of you, as he might have entertained with Sharon the cute nurse, or the thrill of a clandestine encounter, but with you—the real, unvarnished, and utterly captivating human being beside him.

The situation is absurd, laughable even, but in his role as Captain America, he’s long since learned to find hope in the oddest places.

And right now, hope had the delicate features of a whimsical woman sleeping soundly against his shoulder.

« Chapter 6 || Chapter 8 »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

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ravenrothstr · 2 months

Text

Once Again Part I🤍

summary. jaehyun and his classmates go through the darkness of adulthood fill with bitterness, where both of them ended finding each other sparks in within

genre. high school! au, second chance love, fluff

words count. 9.0k

disclaimer. the story is fully fictional. other names mentioned are just for the story and pure imagination, with no bad intentions

--｡⋆✮ 🎧 ✮ ⋆｡--

Jaehyun sprang into action, swiftly manoeuvring to catch the basketball tossed by his teammates. Just as he prepared to take a shot, the coach's whistle pierced through the air, signalling the end of today's training session.

"Aish," he muttered to himself, releasing a disappointed sigh before dropping the ball to the ground.

Fist-bumps were exchanged, mutual words of encouragement were shared, and the team dispersed towards the changing room. Jaehyun situated himself between Mingyu and Eunwoo, the sound of lockers being opened filling the air.

"Let's grab dinner at that restaurant we hit up yesterday. You know, the one that always hooks us up with extra side dishes. I'm starving," Mingyu suggested, casting a glance at Jaehyun.

"Yeah, sure. Eunwoo, you in?" Jaehyun inquired, turning to his teammate.

Eunwoo merely turned his head, offering Jaehyun a cold stare before wordlessly heading to the showers, brushing past Mingyu and Jaehyun without a word. The two boys exchanged resigned sighs, accustomed to Eunwoo's distant demeanor.

"Guess he's content living life solo. Seems to be his M.O.," Jaehyun remarked sarcastically, throwing an arm around one of his teammates as they made their way to the showers together.

Despite being the team captain, Eunwoo rarely joined his teammates for post-training meals. While he was undeniably popular and academically successful, Eunwoo's reserved nature and occasional self-centeredness set him apart from the rest, particularly Jaehyun.

As the boys finished showering and left the basketball court, Eunwoo diverged from the group, his footsteps leading him in the opposite direction. With a heavy sigh, he checked his phone, reading a message from his friend.

"Eunwoo, I just finished studying for tonight. How's your day?" you texted.

Replying as he walked, Eunwoo continued his solitary journey.

The bustling atmosphere of the restaurant was a stark contrast to the quiet camaraderie of the basketball court. Laughter and chatter filled the air as the team settled into their seats, the restaurant staff familiar with their boisterous antics.

"Hey, Captain, what's your game plan post-graduation? We're hitting 18, right?" Mingyu queried, glancing around at his teammates.

"Why are you never thinking about the future?" he prodded, leaning in towards Jaehyun.

"Stop with the 'Captain' nonsense. Eunwoo's the real deal," Jaehyun retorted with a smirk.

"I know that. We're just curious. Cha Eunwoo seems to have his future all mapped out. So, what's your play?" Mingyu persisted.

While Jaehyun wasn't averse to discussing his future, he couldn't provide a definitive answer. Unlike Eunwoo, who had clear goals, Jaehyun was still uncertain about his path forward. Focused more on sports than academics, Jaehyun's family's financial struggles added an additional layer of complexity to his situation.

"The future?" Jaehyun mused, pouring water into his friend's empty glass before resting his arms on the table, his gaze fixed on the surface.

"That's a strong word," he continued, meeting his friend's gaze with a serious expression.

"Eunwoo has powerful backers," Jaehyun remarked. "His destiny's practically written for him. He knows exactly where he's headed."

His friend nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in Jaehyun's words.

"Anyway, let's call it a night. They're closing up shop," Jaehyun suggested, signalling for the bill.

The memory of that fateful night lingered in Jaehyun's mind as he walked home from practice. Stopping by a nearby convenience store, he purchased a pack of instant noodles before stepping outside. There, he encountered a man in his late forties seated on a bench—an encounter that would change everything.

"Evening, Mr. Jung," the man greeted, extending a hand for a shake, though Jaehyun's hands were full.

"Sorry, my hands are occupied," Jaehyun replied curtly, his guard up.

"My apologies. Let me introduce myself. I'm Mr. Lee, from the national basketball team," the man said, offering Jaehyun his business card.

Taking the card reluctantly, Jaehyun listened as Mr. Lee outlined an enticing offer—an offer that came with a condition: Jaehyun must become the team captain by the end of the semester's final game.

With a sense of foreboding settling in his gut, Jaehyun watched as Mr. Lee bid him farewell, leaving him to contemplate the weight of his decision.

The following day dawned with crystalline clarity, the school gradually filling with students as the morning sunlight streamed into Classroom 3-5, where Jaehyun found his seat. Despite sharing a class with Eunwoo, Jaehyun didn't pay much mind to him.

Entering the classroom with his bag slung over one shoulder, Jaehyun observed the usual morning bustle: some students gossiping, others hastily applying makeup in a bid to look their best. Meanwhile, Jaehyun quietly settled at his desk near the window, resting his head upon it in a familiar ritual, his hands cradling his head as he sought solace in a few moments of reprieve.

Uninterested in classroom chatter, Jaehyun often used these moments to steal a brief respite from his classmates. However, just as he teetered on the brink of sleep, the sliding of the classroom door disrupted his tranquility.

"Hey y/n, you're later than Jaehyun today," one of the girls remarked.

Y/N, another classmate, was an outsider known for your intellect and rumoured connection to Eunwoo. Speculation swirled that you might be engaged to Eunwoo in the future, inheriting both of your families' companies together. Nexus Architecture and Evergreen Designs & Associates. However, the gossip surrounding you led to disdainful treatment from your peers.

"Oh, really? We must have taken the same bus again," you replied with a smile, unaware of the snickers and whispered comments circulating around you.

Exasperated, Jaehyun heard the thinly veiled mockery directed at you, prompting a silent shake of his head before he sank further into his thoughts.

The shrill ringing of the lunch bell marked the midday break, prompting a rush of students streaming towards the dining hall. Among them stood you, patiently waiting in line for her meal.

"Oh, y/n, joining the lunch queue today?" a group of girls approached her, their tone laced with derision.

"Yeah, I forgot my lunchbox today," offering a friendly smile despite the thinly veiled contempt in their gaze.

The girls exchanged glances, stifling laughter before one of them jeered, "Aren't lunchboxes for eight-year-olds?"

Feeling the sting of embarrassment, you averted her gaze, your cheeks flushing with shame as tears threatened to well up.

Jaehyun observed the scene unfold with a mix of empathy and frustration. While he sympathized with your plight, he couldn't help but feel exasperated by the petty antics of their classmates. It was a reminder of the shallow nature of high school society, where appearances and rumours held more weight than genuine kindness.

Eunwoo's departure from the lunch table didn't go unnoticed, his actions stirring a silent curiosity among his friends, including Jaehyun. As Eunwoo made his way to the vending machine, Jaehyun's gaze trailed after him, silently observing the unfolding scenario.

"Hey, where are you going?" Mingyu's voice cut through the ambient chatter, but Eunwoo remained unresponsive, his focus fixed on his destination.

Undeterred by Eunwoo's lack of response, Mingyu exchanged a puzzled glance with the others at the table, his curiosity piqued by his friend's sudden departure.

Meanwhile, Eunwoo deftly navigated the vending machine, his movements smooth and purposeful. Yet, his concentration was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a girl, her presence laced with a hint of mischief.

As she leaned against the vending machine, a smirk playing on her lips, Eunwoo's demeanor shifted slightly, his eyes widening in mild surprise at her boldness.

"Taking care of your girl again, huh?" she taunted, her words laden with implication.

Eunwoo's response was measured, his expression unreadable as he absorbed her words. Though inwardly unsettled by her assumption, he chose to remain silent, his thoughts swirling with unspoken complexities.

"What do you mean 'my girl?"

"Isn't she yours? For you to take care of her that much?"

She moved towards facing the machine and continued to make her purchase. Eunwoo moved aside slightly, he just stayed quiet at her question. Are you his? He just never thought of sorting those feelings out.

"Choi Ye Won, next to meet you" the girl continued and held her hand out to Eunwoo.

He hesitated momentarily, his gaze flickering between her outstretched hand and her expectant expression.

"Not for now," he replied cryptically, his tone tinged with uncertainty as he sidestepped her invitation.

Returning to the dining hall, Eunwoo's attention was drawn to you, his presence a comforting sight amidst the chaos of the lunchtime crowd. With a small gesture of kindness, he offered you the bread he had purchased, a simple yet meaningful gesture that spoke volumes.

"Hey I heard you forgot your lunch box today so I bought this for you. Though you might get hungry waiting in line"

Meanwhile, Mingyu's teasing remarks drew a knowing smirk from Eunwoo, his response veiled in playful ambiguity. Though his feelings for you remained a mystery even to himself, Eunwoo's actions spoke volumes about the depth of his care for you.

As the conversation flowed around him, Jaehyun stayed quiet, watching everything unfold. Little did he know, these events would soon draw him into a tangle of feelings and drama, making him question his place in their high school social circle.

"Jung Jaehyun, Mrs. Jeon is waiting for you in her office," a classmate's urgent voice broke through the classroom's murmurs, startling Jaehyun from the brink of sleep. He blinked, his eyes slowly focusing on the speaker.

"Now? Why?" Jaehyun's voice was groggy with confusion.

"Yeah, she's been asking for you. You better go," the classmate insisted.

As Jaehyun made his way to the teacher's office, the atmosphere felt charged with tension. Mrs. Jeon's voice reverberated through the corridor, sharp and unforgiving, as she berated a student for not meeting her expectations. Mr. Kim attempted to intervene, but Mrs. Jeon's frustration only seemed to intensify, her words lashing out like whips.

"How can I be expected to calm down when I'm surrounded by students who don't take their studies seriously?" Mrs. Jeon's voice echoed with exasperation as she gestured emphatically at the papers strewn across her desk.

"But Mrs Jeon, Jaehyun here has been making an effort. He's submitted his homework on time," Mr Kim interjected, trying to diffuse the situation.

Mrs. Jeon's eyes narrowed in Jaehyun's direction, her gaze piercing through him like daggers.

"Is that true, Jaehyun? Or are you just another slacker like the rest of them?"

Jaehyun felt the weight of her scrutiny bearing down on him, but before he could respond, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Jeon," came the timid voice of yours, Jaehyun's classmate, peeking into the room.

It had been several days since Jaehyun last encountered you in the dining hall. As you now stood beside him, you respectfully bowed to both of your teachers. Mrs Jeon let out an audible sigh. Though the purpose of your presence was to meet Mrs. Jeon, it was Mr. Kim who took the initiative to greet her first, his warm smile providing a momentary reprieve from the tension in the room.

"Y/n, you're here early in the morning," Mr. Kim remarked, a hint of amusement evident in his voice as he continued, "Again."

Mrs. Jeon turned her attention towards you, preparing to deliver yet another admonishment.

"Y/n, you can't come in here every morning to ask about your exam marks. You need to socialize more with your friends," Mrs. Jeon began, her tone tinged with frustration.

"But school is for studying," you voice firm and unwavering.

The others fell into a stunned silence, captivated by your bold response. Mrs. Jeon, feeling the weight of her students' challenges, massaged her temples in an attempt to alleviate the emerging headache. Jaehyun, observing the unfolding scene couldn't help but murmur softly to himself.

"Interesting," Jaehyun whispered, his gaze fixed intently on you.

A few moments later, the school bell chimed, signaling the start of classes. Mrs. Jeon fixed them with a stern gaze before dismissing them with a curt nod.

"You, focus more," Mrs. Jeon's stern voice pierced the air, her finger pointed squarely at Jaehyun.

"And you," she turned her gaze to you, "go socialize more," her tone softened slightly.

As you both made your way through the bustling corridors filled with students rushing to their classrooms, you swung the door open, stepping out of the office with Jaehyun in tow. Just as you were about to dart off, Jaehyun quickened his pace and leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"If you want to socialize more, come eat lunch with me," he teased, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, catching you off guard.

With a stunned expression, you froze in your tracks as Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction before darting off to their classroom, leaving you standing there, bemused by his playful antics.

The day passed in its usual blur of lectures and scribbled notes until the lunch bell brought a welcome reprieve. Jaehyun, struggling to keep his heavy eyelids from closing, finally stirred from his desk as his classmates filtered out of the room and towards the cafeteria.

As he made his way towards the door, a sudden blockade halted his progress. It was you, your innocent smile belying your obliviousness to the social norms.

"Jaehyun, let's have lunch," you said, holding your lunchbox.

Jaehyun stood there stunned, unsure how to respond. His mind went blank. He wasn't expecting you to be this ignorant but he wasn't that mean either.

"You just need to finish your lunch right? Let's eat somewhere else," said Jaehyun worriedly.

Gently redirecting you, Jaehyun guided you out of the classroom and away from prying eyes to a secluded spot beneath a sprawling tree in the schoolyard.

They decided to eat their lunch on the bench beneath a large tree in the school field, where you began to eat. It was a secluded spot, rarely frequented during lunchtime, ensuring they wouldn't be spotted. Jaehyun sat beside you, his hands crossed and feet tapping nervously on the ground. He hoped you would finish your lunch quickly, along with your lunchbox, to avoid drawing attention to their presence together.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, noticing Jaehyun's restless feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine, hurry up and finish your lunch," he replied, quickly grabbing your hand and pushing your chopsticks back into the lunchbox. You, being as innocent as ever, nodded and resumed eating your lunch.

"But—" you began, setting down your chopsticks. Jaehyun's concern grew as he turned to face you, waiting for you to continue.

"Why aren't you eating?" you asked, your gaze fixed on Jaehyun, realizing he hadn't brought anything with him.

"Did you forget your lunchbox?" you asked with a smile.

He simply nodded in agreement. Knowing that nobody brings a lunchbox anymore, he didn't want to waste any more time. You happily finished your lunch, grateful to have Jaehyun's company since you didn't have any friends to eat with at school. Having Jaehyun there made your day.

As you reached for the last gimbap from your lunchbox, Jaehyun breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over; you had finished your lunch.

"Okay, finished. I'll get going," Jaehyun said, quickly standing up and walking away from you as fast as possible.

"Wait!"

Jaehyun forced himself to look back, a frown forming on his face. "What now?" he asked, glancing at you.

"Do you want to go to the basketball court together after class?"

"No," Jaehyun said sternly as he left.

Another school day dawned for Jaehyun. Stretching his legs off the bed and onto the floor, he raised his arms high, grazing the ceiling as he yawned. Glancing at the time, he realized it was still early, so he decided to walk to school that day.

Plugging in his earphones and selecting a song from his playlist, he enjoyed the peaceful walk. Lost in thought about his plans for the day, he reminded himself of his role as the basketball team captain—a responsibility he took seriously as a means to support his family and secure a better future.

Arriving at the school gates, he muttered to himself, "Basketball captain, no more problems."

Suddenly, he heard a commotion behind him and turned to see you on the ground, surrounded by scattered books. A girl who had walked past you was rolling her eyes and walking away.

"Hey, you pushed me!" you shouted after her, but the girl ignored your accusation and continued on her way.

Seeing you struggling, Jaehyun hesitated for a moment, torn between helping you and avoiding involvement with an outsider. He then ignores his inner conflict, he decided to lend a hand. Quickly gathering your books, he approached you and handed them over.

"Oh, Jaehyun!" you exclaimed in amazement. "Thank you for helping."

"Whatever," Jaehyun replied tersely, handing over the books before swiftly walking away. Though he wanted to advise you to be more careful, he found it awkward and opted for a brief response. Helping you was enough for one day.

You walked silently behind Jaehyun, heading to the same classroom as usual. Surprisingly, he didn't walk away or leave you alone. Given the possibility of being pushed or bullied on your way to class, you stick close to him. Jaehyun noticed you following him but didn't mind, although he hadn't realized he wasn't walking away until he reached the stairs. Your eyes met briefly, both quickly looking away.

Jaehyun cleared his throat nervously before speaking up, offering a warning. "You should be more careful," he said.

"I should, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful to not slip on my feet again."

"Not your feet, them," he corrected you. "You should be careful of people around you."

Jaehyun noticed you freeze on the landing step, just standing there. Wondering if he had said too much or if you simply didn't understand, he debated whether to approach you. Before he could decide, a group of boys approached, prompting Jaehyun to continue up the stairs, leaving you behind.

During class, Jaehyun found himself lost in thought, gazing out the window toward the school entrance. He was barely paying attention until the lunch bell rang, snapping him back to reality.

As students started leaving the classroom for lunch, Jaehyun noticed his teammates, including Mingyu, heading toward his classroom. A smile formed on his lips at the sight of friends who remembered him. Just then, you approached his desk, and he knew he was in for an awkward encounter.

"Jaehyun, let's have lunch," you said, holding her lunchbox.

Internally, Jaehyun sighed, wishing to avoid this situation. Before he could respond, Mingyu's face appeared at the door, witnessing them together. Sensing the awkwardness, Mingyu quickly shut the door again. Jaehyun seized the opportunity, grabbing your wrist and leading her to the field.

"Eat it now, hurry," he urged.

"Are you not comfortable with me?" she asked, sensing his discomfort.

The question caught Jaehyun off guard, while he was crossing his arms, tapping his feet nervously.

"What?"

"Are you not comfortable with me, Jaehyun?" you repeated.

Jaehyun blinked, realizing his behaviour. He glanced at you, who seemed saddened.

"If you're not comfortable, you don't have to eat lunch with me," you offered.

Sighing, Jaehyun realised he was treating you out of pity. He forced himself to buy some snacks from a vending machine and returned to the bench.

"Satisfied? I'm having lunch too," he said, opening his soda.

"Okay," you replied, beginning to eat.

They ate in silence, and when lunch hour ended, Jaehyun made you promise to let him go to class first. As they parted ways, Jaehyun couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort and guilt.

A week passed, and Jaehyun found himself still having lunch with you at the field bench. His training and mood hadn't improved, and the basketball match loomed ahead. During the game, he drank the usual soda and ate a chocolate bar, feeling stuck in a rut. As the match concluded, Eunwoo's skill earned him praise and adoration from the crowd.

He threw your bag onto the floor as soon as he entered the house, frustration weighing heavily on him. Memories of the game replayed in his mind, each missed opportunity and fumbled play haunting him. Despite the team's victory, he felt like he had let everyone down, especially with Mr. Lee there to evaluate his skills. Exhausted, Jaehyun collapsed onto the bed, trying to accept the day's events before drifting off into a troubled sleep.

You sat alone at your desk, observing the bustling activity of your classmates as they rushed out for lunch. It caught your eye at Jaehyun's motionless figure, his head resting on the table. Probably lost in his thoughts. You could hear concerned whispers from his teammates filling the air.

"Let's give him some space," Eunwoo intervened, urging the others to leave him alone.

You approached Jaehyun's desk, hoping to share lunch with him and lighten him up a bit. But Jaehyun's response was cold and dismissive, hurting you.

"Y/n, can't you tell I don't want to have lunch with you?" he snapped.

His words cutting deep to you, as the feeling of shame and rejection washed over as you struggled to hold back tears as Jaehyun continued, criticizing you for being weird and clingy. With a heavy heart, you watched him leave you alone in the classroom.

As the door closed behind him, your emotions overflowed with tears streaming down your cheeks. You gathered your belongings and made your way to the field bench, seeking comfort in the familiar routine of her lunch break.

You walked to the field bench and made yourself comfortable. You could feel your small fingers trembling over the situation that had happened but forced them by opening the lid of your lunchbox without hesitating for a second. Everything stayed the same for you, except when the tears rolled down your cheeks.

The world has been harsh on you.

"And that is all for today," said the teacher, closing the book in front of him to indicate the end of the last period. You left the class with your other classmates, joining the students in the corridor. After spending your lunch crying, you feel drained.

"Y/N!", someone calls you from behind.

You recognised the voice immediately, as you turned towards Eunwoo running toward you.

"Going to art class again?"

"Yes, how about you?"

"Y/N, are you okay?" Eunwoo sensed something was wrong with your response. He gently pulled your arm.

"I'm okay, Eunwoo. Thanks for asking,"

"Do you want me to walk you there? I can tell the coach I'll be running a bit late for today's training."

How you wished you could nod. After everything that had happened today, the idea of someone accompanying you to the art centre would comfort you. But Jaehyun's words had shaken your trust in people's kindness.

"No, Eunwoo, thank you, but I'll walk myself today. You should go to practice," you declined.

"Okay then," Eunwoo hesitated before continuing. "I'll text you later."

You gave him a light smile and walked away from him. Glancing around at the surroundings on the route to the art centre, you were torn between going to art class or taking a day off. Your head and heart were at odds with each other, and with each step, your legs felt heavier.

Unable to bear it any longer, you found yourself walking back home, seeking emotional refuge with Haein, the caretaker. As you entered the house and found Haein arranging cushions in the living room, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, knowing you had someone to turn to in time of need.

A few weeks had passed, and neither Jaehyun nor you had been to the teacher's office since their last encounter. You took Jaehyun's warning about lunch seriously, perhaps too seriously. You found yourself overthinking your interactions with others and making efforts to connect with peers. Amidst all your progress, there was one thing you hadn't changed: her lunchbox. Meanwhile, Jaehyun had resumed having lunch with his teammates as usual.

"Eat up, captain!" Mingyu exclaimed with laughter.

Jaehyun smiled widely as he placed his tray on the desk and joined the rest of the team. It felt good to be back with them. Just as he was settling into his seat, he noticed Eunwoo with Choi Yewon. Jaehyun nudged Mingyu's arm and leaned in to whisper.

"What's going on with Ye Won and Eunwoo?"

"Her? You know, his new target," Mingyu shook his head.

"What? Behind y/n?"

"We all know about his schemes with y/n," Mingyu interjected. "He's just brazen enough to do it openly at school."

They glanced over at Eunwoo and Ye Won, who were clearly intertwined as they conversed. Jaehyun felt uncomfortable, he didn't the thought of you being betrayed like this. They decided to leave them alone and continue their lunch. Jaehyun then began eating ravenously.

"Hey, are you that hungry?" one of his teammates asked, but Jaehyun ignored them completely.

As soon as he finished his lunch, Jaehyun slammed his chopsticks down on the table and hastily announced, before rushing out of the dining hall, leaving his bewildered team behind.

"I'll get going, see you later"

Mingyu surveyed his teammates with frustration. The team was in disarray, with neither the captain nor the potential captain able to focus before their match. Mingyu clenched his chopsticks tightly, feeling the need to intervene.

"Someone needs to stop this," Mingyu declared fiercely.

"The weather is too great to have a bad day," you remarked to yourself as you sat down for lunch.

You had grown accustomed to eating alone in this spot, finding comfort in the gentle breeze and open space. It was a solace space for you only. Suddenly, you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"What are you doing?" Jaehyun's voice came from beside the bench.

You looked up in surprise. "Jaehyun, why are you here?"

"Just... for nothing," he replied, taking a seat next to you with his hands in his jacket pockets.

"It's okay if you don't want to have lunch—"

Jaehyun turned to her, smirking. "Just eat your lunch," he said, cutting you off.

You returned his smirk and began eating, while Jaehyun couldn't help but smile softly at the action. He could sense that you had become more attentive and considerate toward others, and it felt reassuring.

After a few moments of silence, you glanced at Jaehyun, who seemed lost in thought. He looked distracted and anxious, you offered him your favourite juice.

"If you're going to space out for that long, you might as well enjoy a juice," she suggested.

Jaehyun sighed and accepted the juice. As both of you sat together, Jaehyun couldn't help but notice the tranquillity of their surroundings.

"Is this why you always have lunch here?" he asked, curious.

"Yeah, I find it hard to socialize at school, even during recess. So I come here to gather myself before continuing with the day."

"Jaehyun, are you okay?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

He was taken aback by the question, feeling a surge of emotions. He was so close to telling you the truth of Ye Won and Eunwoo. How he wanted to save you from the betrayal.

"No, actually, I have something to tell you,"

Before he could continue, a few people approached the bench. It was Jaehyun's teammates. He quickly stood up, intending to explain the situation, while you were confused, not understanding what was happening as you looked on innocently at them.

"It's not what it looks like-" Jaehyun explained to them.

"So it was you all along," Mingyu pointed at you, ignoring Jaehyun before he continued.

"You were the one messing up with him"

"I'm sorry, who are-",

"You think you can hang out with one of us just because Eunwoo is your friend, right?!"

"This is not what it seems-"

"You getting bolder now. You think people like you now. Can you see people using you just especially Eunwoo? You no special, y/n"

They hurled insults at you, and Jaehyun's attempts to defend her fell on deaf ears. You could sense your eyes got teary, it wasn't even you who approached them in the first place. But Jaehyun was quick to realise your expression, he knew where this was heading. He immediately dragged his teammates away from you and brought them back to the class. They all left you alone on the bench.

Jaehyun was fierce, he walked in front of them in the dash.

"Jaehyun, I did a great job, didn't I? Don't worry, she's not gonna disturb you anymore", his teammate said as he smiled thinking he saved Jaehyun.

Jaehyun turned around to face him, looking at him in the eyes.

"I told you. It's not what it looks like!"

They were all startled at his action, he was really mad this time. People around them were starting to talk and gather around them. It seems like they were getting into a fight any moment now. Jaehyun looked around and gave out a sigh, putting his head down.

"Let's just go to class," he said as he entered his classroom door and closed it shut.

Your steps echoed through the empty corridor as you hastened towards the sanctuary of the girls' bathroom. Your heart heavy turns into tears threatening to spill, hiding within the confines of one of the stalls, where you allow yourself to finally release the torrent of emotions that had been building up inside.

As your sobs filled the quiet space, the sound was soon accompanied by the soft murmur of voices outside your stall. Startled, your tears momentarily paused as you strained to listen. Four concerned voices floated through the air, their words a mix of worry and compassion.

"Hey, what's going on in there? Are you okay?", one of the girls asked gently, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

"Maybe she needs a tissue," another voice suggested, practical and helpful.

A third voice chimed in, "I think she might need a pad instead. It sounds like she's crying because of that."

The girls deliberated amongst themselves, each offering suggestions on how best to help you in your time of need. Their voices blended into a comforting chorus of support, reaching your ears and offering a glimmer of hope amidst your despair.

Finally, summoning your courage, you slowly opened the door of the stall, revealing your tear-streaked face to the concerned girls outside. Without hesitation, you begin telling them what had happened over lunch. They enveloped you in a warm embrace, offering comfort and understanding without judgment.

Meanwhile, in the classroom, Jaehyun's anxiety mounted with each passing minute as he anxiously watched the clock. His worry for you gnawed at him, the weight of guilt and regret heavy on his shoulders.

Five minutes have passed.

Ten minutes have passed.

Fifteen minutes have passed.

His eyes peek around the class again as it stops at your desk. You're still not there. Jaehyun begins tapping his feet, his mind too begins to imagine every possibility that could happen to you.

'Is it possible you went back home already?', thought to himself.

Suddenly the front door of the classroom slides open. The whole classroom sways their heads facing away from the blackboard, even the teacher paused his lesson for a moment.

'Shit'

When you finally entered the classroom, your eyes red-rimmed and downcast, Jaehyun's heart sank. He could feel the weight of the whispers and stares directed at you, a tangible manifestation of the repercussions of your actions.

"I'm sorry, teacher. The toilet was really full, and I had to go number two," you explained as you bowed and made your way back to your seat.

Throughout the day, the atmosphere crackled with tension, rumors spreading like wildfire and casting a shadow over the basketball team's reputation. Jaehyun's stomach churned with guilt as he grappled with the knowledge that their actions had contributed to your pain.

Later, Coach Lee's voice boomed with disappointment and anger as he addressed the team. Eunwoo, in particular, felt the weight of the coach's words bearing down on him, the burden of leadership heavier than ever before.

As they endured their punishment of running laps under the scorching sun, Eunwoo's eyes caught sight of something on the bench where you usually sat. It was your forgotten lunchbox.

"It's okay Eunwoo, it's not your fault. We respect you as a captain", said his teammates.

Eunwoo looked at them, turning his head towards the back of him.

"He's right. I'm sorry, Eunwoo, everyone", Mingyu apologise.

'If only you held your anger on y/n, things would have been better", replied Ten, another member of the team.

"But I really can't hold it in-"

The teammates started bickering while they carried on with their laps. Eunwoo just shook his head at them, he took a glance again at Jaehyun. He was at the back of all of them. His eyes started to wander around, it stopped at something that caught his eye and made him a bit. It was the bench you sat at during lunch. There was a silver box on top of the sits. Apparently, you had left her lunchbox on the bench. Eunwoo notices it as he quickly looks back at Jaehyun to see if he notices it too. He quickly snaps out to distract him.

"Focus. Run faster! 30 laps to go!", Eunwoo shouted.

The next morning, you decide to arrive early at school. You realize you forgot your lunchbox in the classroom the day before and want to retrieve it before the school fills up. After all, the thought of leftover food sitting in your lunchbox is less than appealing.

As you push open the wooden door of the classroom, you notice Jaehyun, Eunwoo, and a few others who have already arrived. Ignoring their presence, you swiftly place your pastel brown bag on a nearby chair and hurry towards the bench on the field, seeming to cope peacefully with the aftermath of the previous day's incident.

"Is it gone already?" you exclaim, noticing the empty bench.

Kneeling down, you begin to search beneath the bench when suddenly, Eunwoo appears.

"Here's your lunchbox. I've already washed it," he says, gesturing towards the lunchbox in front of him.

"Thanks, Eunwoo," you reply gratefully, reaching out to take it.

"How did you know I left it here?"

Eunwoo hesitates, running a hand through his hair before responding, "We happened to train at the field yesterday."

"Well, that makes sense. Thank you, Eunwoo," you say with a smile, returning his gesture.

"I knew you were going to look for it. Let's go back to class," Eunwoo suggests, and you nod in agreement.

"Are you feeling better? Yesterday was rough for you," Eunwoo asks as you climb up the stairs together.

You don't react much as he expected, just humming at his question, signaling to him that you're okay now. Eunwoo begins to worry when he sees your response, his expression immediately changing as he steps on another riser above you.

"Y/n, don't take it to heart about what they said yesterday. Some people never think before they speak, they were just not in the right mind when they confronted you."

"It's alright Eunwoo. After all, what they say about me was right anyway. I saw that coming already."

As you reassure him with a soft smile, you demonstrate your adeptness at handling the situation. Growing up with both of your parents working as architects, you have become accustomed to direct and straightforward criticism, albeit often delivered in a gentler manner. You have learned to detach your emotions from such feedback and simply accept it for what it is. Even if some of the statements hold partial truth, you see little point in trying to argue or convince otherwise.

"That's not what I mean. You know I'm here for you because I really want to be, I'm not using you," Eunwoo says, offering a white lie.

"I know, that's why I said it's about me. It's true I depend on you a lot because I have no friends here, and it's harder now that you can't always be there to solve all of my problems," you pause before continuing.

"So just let me think it through for now."

Eunwoo doesn't say anything as he stands still in his position, knowing it's best for you to have some time. Deep down inside, Eunwoo understands that it's not about you needing him to solve everything, but rather his own fear of losing you. You have been there for him, even when he resorted to dirty tricks, and now that you are starting to grow apart from him, he fears being left with nothing.

Just as you are both lost in your thoughts, Jaehyun steps in, approaching the staircase. He immediately makes eye contact with you, filled with regret and the desire to apologize, but his actions speak otherwise.

-- This morning, Jaehyun's feet moved in a dash as he exited the bus, the cold breeze hitting him as he sped up. It was early, Jaehyun had already arrived at school. Without bothering to set down his backpack, he made his way to the school field. Jaehyun knew he had to retrieve the lunchbox before anyone else did. It was the only reason he could use to meet up with you again and apologize. However, to his dismay, the lunchbox was nowhere to be found.

His eyes widened in a fluster as he realised the lunchbox was missing. Without hesitation, he began searching for it. Pulling down the sleeves of his sweater, he warmed his hand with a breath before Eunwoo appeared, holding the lunchbox.

"Once again, you're second, Jaehyun," Eunwoo remarked, lifting the lunchbox with one hand while the other remained in his pocket.

"I never come in second. You're the one always taking what's not yours," Jaehyun retorted.

"Like what? The scholarship?" Eunwoo's words struck a nerve with Jaehyun.

"What do you mean?" Jaehyun asked, caught off guard.

"I know about it, Jaehyun. I'm just surprised you're doing this behind the team," Eunwoo continued, receiving a glare from Jaehyun.

The mention of the scholarship ignited anger within Jaehyun, but he restrained himself before it escalated into a physical confrontation.

"Keep it," Jaehyun said sharply, pushing the lunchbox back towards Eunwoo, causing him to sway his hand.

"I don't need those things to come in first," Jaehyun declared firmly.

He watched Eunwoo laugh at his words as he walked away, leaving him alone on the bench. At that moment, Jaehyun made a decision. He wasn't solely aiming for the scholarship anymore; he was determined to prove that he could surpass Eunwoo in every aspect.

During that lunch break, Jaehyun headed off to the library after finishing his meal. If he ever hoped to surpass Eunwoo, he knew it had to start with his mind. As he solemnly made his way to the library, everything felt unfamiliar to him. Awkwardly navigating between the shelves, he eventually found himself in the architecture section. Knowing that Eunwoo's family owned a renowned architecture firm in Seoul, with Eunwoo destined to inherit it, Jaehyun couldn't help but feel the weight of the challenge ahead.

Jaehyun let his gaze wander as he roamed the shelves, unsure of what to do next. Eventually, he selected a book that caught his eye:

"The Architecture of Happiness".

Finding a secluded spot hidden between the shelves, Jaehyun settled down on the floor with eager anticipation, immersing himself in the book.

As he delved deeper into the world of architecture, Jaehyun's passion and understanding grew. He began devouring more architecture books and design compilations, expanding his knowledge. Simultaneously, his dedication to basketball training intensified, with Jaehyun pushing himself harder late into the evening.

One night, after wrapping up the extra training alone, Jaehyun was startled to see you entering the court, still in your school uniform, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you glanced around.

"Y/n?" Jaehyun called out, bending his head slightly to confirm your identity.

"Why are you here?" he inquired as you approached.

"I- is- is Eunwoo still here?"

"Eunwoo left an hour ago. You should leave too," Jaehyun advised.

"I see. I'll head out then," you replied, making your way towards the nearest bus stop. Jaehyun didn't stop you, accompanying you silently to the bus stop. As you both boarded the bus, Jaehyun took a seat behind you.

"You could have just texted him instead of coming here yourself," Jaehyun remarked, leaning forward slightly. You flinched at his words, turning your head to look at him.

"He hasn't been returning my calls or messages lately," you admitted.

Jaehyun stared at you, his expression unreadable. It was clear to him that Eunwoo was spending more time with Ye Won, neglecting you in the process.

"You already knew, didn't you?" Jaehyun asked, subtly referring to Eunwoo's relationship with Ye Won.

You simply nodded in response.

The rest of the bus ride passed in silence. You immediately put on your earphones after your conversation, and Jaehyun followed suit, leaning back in his seat. Glancing at your reflection in the window, Jaehyun tried to gauge your emotions, but your stoic expression gave nothing away.

As the night grew darker outside, you stared blankly into the distance, your mind wrestling with conflicting emotions. Despite the calmness of the night, you found no comfort. Just as you rested your head against the window, Jaehyun pressed the stop button behind you with determination.

"Ahjussi, this is our stop!" he called out.

Your confusion only deepened as Jaehyun guided you off the bus before your intended stop. You followed him, your brow furrowing as both of you walked down a street adorned with cherry blossom flowers and trees.

"Why are you bringing me here?" you asked, turning your head to look at him.

"No reason," he lied casually. "You might like it here."

Jaehyun spotted a bench nearby, and you surveyed your surroundings. The windy night had transformed the streets into a scene straight out of a dream, with nearly pure white cherry blossoms tinged with the palest pink fluttering gently in the breeze. They seemed like confetti in the air, descending around both of you. You stood still, lifting a hand in front of you as if to catch the falling blossoms. Jaehyun watched you intently from his seat on the bench. Just then, a cherry blossom flower drifted down and landed delicately in your open palm.

"Jaehyun! Did you see that?" you exclaimed excitedly, your eyes sparkling with childlike wonder as you skipped over to him, the flower cradled in your hand.

A warm, tender smile spread across Jaehyun's face, his dimples forming as he watched you.

"Hurry, make a wish," he urged gently.

You immediately placed your other palm next to the first, closing your eyes tightly and bowing your head toward the flower. You made a silent wish in your heart before opening your eyes with a happy sigh, taking a seat next to Jaehyun. He couldn't help but smile softly at your infectious happiness.

"What did you wish for?" he inquired.

"That your life will be as happy as I was when the flower landed in my palm," you replied earnestly.

"You should wish for Eunwoo to reply to you. Why wish for someone else?" Jaehyun teased gently.

"Because the best kind of wish is the one made for others," you grinned back at him before continuing.

"It was tough when things weren't going well at my father's firm. But when Eunwoo's family firm and ours did a project together, we wished for their success, and it happened. It felt like a miracle, Jaehyun," you added, meeting his gaze.

He listened intently, feeling a connection to you as you shared your story. Your vulnerability opened up a new understanding between you both.

"Here," you said, passing the flower to Jaehyun. "Maybe one day, you can make a wish for me."

With that, you stood up from the bench and began to walk away after adjusting your skirt. Jaehyun watched you go, then turned his gaze back to the cherry blossom. The beautiful night filled with cherry blossoms remained warm in your memories as you both returned home, leaving behind a quiet night filled with delightful memories.

"Oppa, the school festival is coming up. Are you going to perform again?" a junior asked Jaehyun nervously in the corridor of the school.

"What?" he replied, staring at her blankly, trying to understand what she was talking about.

"Well, you always perform during the school festival. I was wondering if you're going to perform again this year."

"Oh," Jaehyun hesitated. With his father no longer around to practice with, he wasn't considering performing this year.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I am," he finally answered.

Jaehyun's performances during the school festival always attracted a lot of attention from girls, which made him feel a bit awkward. However, he only paid attention to his friends and basketball team, and now to Eunwoo, whom he aimed to beat.

He entered the classroom after stopping by the library as usual. Closing the door behind him, Jaehyun made his way back to his desk.

"What? You said you went where?" you asked as your classmate who sat in front of her repeated her story.

Jaehyun smirked slightly. He was sure you didn't know about the mall the other girl mentioned.

Jaehyun went through the architecture section in the library like always, wandering his eyes around the shelves. As his eyes went from one book to another, none of the books caught his attention this afternoon.

He let out a groan as he made his way to a seat. He took out a small drawing pen he held in his pocket, letting his fingers sketch on a sketchbook he had bought. Just then, he heard your and Eunwoo's voices conversing on the shelf next to his table. Making his attention on you both, he turned his head before deciding to ignore you as he went back to sketching.

"Y/n," Jaehyun could hear a voice calling it across the library as it broke the silence.

He lifted his head from the sketchbook, just as he saw you approached by a student council at a shelf next to his table. Immediately hiding his face with his hand by laying his head on his stretched arms across the table, facing the opposite of you both. Making sure he did not get caught but he continued to eavesdrop.

"Hi Jihyo," you said to the student council.

"Oh, hi Eunwoo. Didn't see you there," she said to Eunwoo.

"Do you think you can perform during the school festival? We need someone to start the dance during the evening dance event," she continued.

"I'm sorry-? What dance?"

"The principal is finally allowing us to do a dance event as the closing of the school festival," she explained before she continued.

"We would like to have you and Eunwoo perform as the opening for the dance event. Both of you can perform a slow dance, you guys used to go to the same art elementary school," she convinced you.

Jaehyun on the other side wasn't liking what he heard, he was hoping you to turn down the offer as there was a long pause after the conversation. He gathered his strength to his legs, feeling restless over the eavesdrop. He was ready to leave the library before you could answer. Eunwoo noticed Jaehyun at the table as he stood when he decided to leave the room but your voice stops his actions.

"Okay, I'll do it if Eunwoo is okay with it," you said.

Eunwoo immediately made eye contact with Jaehyun across the shelf.

"Sure, I'll do it," Eunwoo answered, still eyeing Jaehyun.

"For you," turned back his head to face you who has on his shoulder level, looking up at him.

Your lips curved upwards at Eunwoo's actions. You're glad Eunwoo is trying to amend your relationship but your guts are telling you otherwise. You were already drifting apart from each other with Eunwoo sneaking around behind your back with Ye Won. As much as you're hesitating, your actions never did anything to avoid him yet you feel it's hard to push him away.

"Jaehyun," said you as soon you lifted your head, making eye contact with him.

By your tone and your face that brightens up when you see Jaehyun, he can tell you're more interest in him eavesdropping on the conversation than being selected for the dance. But your happiness drops in a split of seconds when Jaehyun just passes by you, ignoring you both and making his way out of the library.

Your heart sank.

It wasn't the first time you received cold shoulders from him so you faced the floor, brushing away the feelings.

"So you wanna start to practise tonight?" Eunwoo asked immediately after he noticed you, you must have felt small.

"Yeah, that sounds great."

"I'll meet you at the court then after training, the court should be big enough for us."

You nodded as you gave a soft smile at him before both of you made your way to the classroom.

Jaehyun takes a quick look over at the audience on the benches. Usually, there are a few of their teammates' girlfriends, but today you are sitting casually as you sketch in your sketchbook. He shakes off his wandering thoughts and brings them back to the training. Not long after that, the training ended and the team headed to the changing room. Jaehyun stayed at the court for some personal practicing.

At first, he was just minding his own business when suddenly Eunwoo came to court again. He could see from the corner of his eyes that Eunwoo went to you as you too walked yourself down the court from the bench.

"Are you done yet?" you asked.

"Yeah, let's start practicing."

You nodded.

Jaehyun went back to his training after hearing that and you too started your practice. From time to time, Jaehyun took a glimpse of you both. He was confused by his actions. His eyes couldn't help but lay on you and Eunwoo dancing.

"Just making sure everything okay," he clarifies himself.

He looked at how gracefully you were dancing. Surely it proves a lot that both of you were from a performing arts school. He left a smile as he romanticized the view of you both dancing.

Looking at both of you dancing reminisces back his memories with his grandmother. He used to learn some dances with his grandmother, as she was a dancer. He adores graceful movements when she dances, it softens a part of him. It could make the world around him shut for a moment, the only thing that was bright and warm was the dances.

"Mr. Jeong, please have a seat," said a man opening the door for Jaehyun, the sight of Mr. Lee and his couch filled his eyes in the room.

He's been here every now and then, just the sight of Mr. Lee and a few men in suits seems new to him. His guts are telling him something was off but for now, all he could do is casually takes a seat next to the empty beside Mr. Lee at the desk.

"Jaehyun," his couch speaks as Jaehyun sits down and continues his words that leaving a shock on Jaehyun's face, he lifts his face to the couch. It was hard to believe what he heard.

"How about giving the scholarship spot to your teammate Eunwoo?"

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