#midnights song drabbles

[fernandoswarcrimes]

You’re Losing Me x Carlos Sainz

“Stop.. you’re losing me..”

Taglist: @morgan108 @diary-of-jj @shea-theodore @pitchandgrid @wifemase @hal3ynicol3 @alicerubyfloyd @nicanicksnica @formulafootballfan

Word count: 3.3k

To be added to the rest of the series click here -> 🌌

You say, "I don't understand" and I say, "I know you don't"

We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won't

Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light

Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time

“I don’t understand what the problem is.” Carlos sighed, rubbing at his face in frustration. You’d been at each other’s throats for forty five minutes now, and over something so trivial. What had begun as him (forgetting to do the dishes? Change the laundry?) had spiraled into an outright argument over him not helping around the house, to him being out so late all the time now. “I know you don’t.” You had muttered, shaking your head with a sigh of your own.

“I can’t do this right now, I told Lando I’d meet him for dinner.” Carlos spoke, his curt reply signaling he was done with the argument, with the entire conversation. He grabbed his keys and walked out of the kitchen without another word as you stood there watching him go.

This is how things always went as of late—at least, that’s what it feels like. It’s always just another small bump in the road, one that you would get over. Always something that wouldn’t stop you from being happy again. Now, though, it seemed like nothing was going to fix things between the two of you. Small bumps are fine until you look back and realize there’s so many, the road is no longer driveable.

As you shut the kitchen light off and walk into the living room, you pause. It was one of yours and Carlos’s favorite rooms in the house because of how the light shone through the windows, illuminating the room in a soft glow when the sun set. Dusk was setting in now as you took a seat on the couch, the room falling into darkness as you sat there by yourself wondering if it was finally time to end it or not.

Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

I'm getting tired even for a phoenix

Always risin' from the ashes

Mendin' all her gashes

You might just have dealt the final blow

It wasn’t even the big things that made you wonder. No, it was the stupid stuff. The small things you wished so badly you could convince yourself to put up with. You knew what the two of you had was special, could feel it in your very being, but it was beginning to not be love anymore. It was tiring, you were tired. Your mother always told you that you reminded her of a phoenix, always picking yourself up and mending your own wounds, never letting anyone help you because you could do it yourself. Times like these, you wish she was wrong.

You didn’t know why Carlos would rather sneak around and lie than just be honest with you. Maybe it was a pride thing. Charles, bless him, had been the one to accidently fill you in on what Carlos has been doing behind your back. He didn’t even mean to, but when he asked if you were at the club with Carlos last week because he thought he’d seen you with his teammate, it was the final blow. You weren’t at the club. You had been at home. You had been waiting on him because he told you he was stopping by his parents house. He had told you not to wait up for him. It started making you wonder what else he’s been lying about and how long he’s gotten away with it.

Every mornin' I glared at you with storms in my eyes

How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick

My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

It was five am when Carlos’s alarm went off, making you roll over and glare at him as he slept. Lately, it’s like you aren't even in a relationship anymore. You sighed as you got up, moving to the kitchen and knowing he’d get up in a minute to get ready for his morning run.

As you cooked yourself something to eat you heard him moving around in your room. The footsteps you’d once longed for around the house had become ghostly, the antithesis of what it once was. You dread the sound of them approaching.

It wasn’t like this came out of nowhere, you had sent him signals and tried talking to him to let him know that things between you needed fixing or changing but, he always brushed them off, brushed you off. You were starting to turn into a shell of yourself the longer you stayed in this relationship and dealt with everything alone.

“Love you.” He mumbled, nothing more than a force of habit, grabbing a water bottle and leaving. He knew that things weren’t okay. You knew he knew, and he knew you knew he knew, and on and on and on until the end of time. It didn’t matter what you both knew, though, because he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud that the love you two had was long gone now. The both of you were just going through the motions and with how shitty the season was going he wasn’t ready to lose the one semi good thing he had left going for him.

And the air is thick with loss and indecision

I know my pain is such an imposition

Now, you're running down the hallway

And you know what they all say

"You don't know what you got until it's gone"

The house was heavy sad and you were running out of options. The confusion and grief that came along with the thought of having to leave the man you loved for the last seven years was hard. Harder than hard. Some kind of word that hasn’t been invented yet, hard. You know that your pain and problems weren't easy to deal with, but hell—he isn’t exactly Mr. Emotionally Intelligent, either. It just made you feel guilty that you were feeling this way and maybe that was the reason Carlos was pulling away.

So you did what any normal person would do, you called your mom and asked if you could come stay for the weekend. You needed to get away for a while, clear your head and figure out what you needed to do for yourself and there was no better place to do that than home. You packed a weekend bag and left after Carlos headed to Baku. The time you spent with your mother was eye opening. She had given you advice that you oh so badly needed to hear.

“Why do you keep letting him treat you this way?” she asked you, nudged a cup of tea an inch closer to you. “This is not the way someone who loves you should treat you.”

She was right, it wasn't how you were supposed to be treated. So it was no surprise to hear from Carlos when he got back and noticed you were gone, you’d left him a note on the fridge but apparently that wasn’t good enough. He didn’t realize all the things you usually did for him until you weren’t there to do them. Like help with laundry, cooking dinner and cleaning. Of course his mother raised him right but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t a guy who got comfortable with how things were.

My heart won't start anymore (Stop 'cause you're losing me)

My heart won't start anymore (Stop 'cause you're losing me)

You didn’t go to a lot of races, had your own career and your own life that was more than the title of girlfriend, but Barcelona was one you always attended. Things hadn’t gotten any better, but you still wanted to be there to support him—even if you knew it was going to be the last time. You stood next to Blanca, listened to her gush about her upcoming wedding, about the flowers and the dress and the table runners. You didn’t have the heart to tell her you’d have to miss it.

“Have you two got your outfits together yet? I know my brother can be pretty forgetful sometimes” Blanca asked, looking over at you with a happy smile. You did your best to give her a smile back, Carlos hadn’t mentioned it, but you didn’t want to burst her bubble. “I’ll remind him tonight, I’m sure you’re going to look absolutely beautiful.” You meant that, even if you aren’t going to be there to see her in person.

As Carlos pulled the car back into the garage after the race it was almost routine, he’d get out, take his helmet and stuff off before walking over and giving you a hug. You hang on a beat longer than normal, soak it all up—his hair and his smell and his skin and his arms. “I’m going to go grab my things,” you mumbled, motioning him to his waiting family before moving off to go grab your things. You didn’t plan on standing around for any longer than necessary. Each passing moment is nothing more than another opportunity for your heart to break.

How long could we be a sad song

'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life?

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me

I'm the best thing at this party (You're losing me)

And I wouldn't marry me either

A pathological people pleaser

Who only wanted you to see her

Your relationship, if it can still be called that, seems to long outlive its expiration. You don’t know how much longer it can go on like this, all the uncertainty. It felt like nothing but a sad song stuck on repeat, something that you couldn’t come back from. There had been times where the both of you got this way in the past but you were able to bring the relationship back to life but this time?

This time things were too far gone.

You had given him nothing but endless empathy everytime Ferrari screwed him over, everytime the media pulled quotes from their ass, everytime someone twitter blamed him for someone else’s mistakes. It was always you there for him. You were the only one fighting for him, right front and center when he had a bad race or when strategies didn’t work out, everything.

Yet, it was for nothing.

“Don’t ignore me Carlos, please,” you said softly, but the crack in your voice is clear. You’re at a party—Lando’s, drug here against your will, against your better judgment. You knew he needed to let loose, but all you wanted was to talk to him. You knew you had to instigate, that he’d ignore you all evening if you didn’t.

He was still losing you.

Everybody talks about the seven year curse. You never saw it coming, even if it was staring you square in the face.

1. You stop being curious about each other

First, it was the little things. No more questions, no more answers. You didn’t spend your time telling him about your favorite breakfast foods and he didn’t spend his time asking. Years came and went, and you thought it was endearing that there weren’t questions, that it was proof your relationship was strong. He knew you like the back of his hand, you’d told yourself.

2. You start keeping secrets from each other

The secrets, though, that’s a new development. A few months ago, he never would’ve sat at the table with his phone face down, never would’ve leaned away from you when he typed or managed to spend time with Lando even when Lando wasn’t in town.

3. You’re spending less meaningful time together

It’s hard to spend time with someone who’s never around, who never wants to be around. That’s all there is to say about that.

4. You start taking each other for granted

It was no secret Carlos had taken you for granted. Everyone knew it, they could see it anytime the two were together. You were at his beck and call, his personal chef, his maid and his housekeeper and his butler. His trainer and his assistant and whatever else he might possibly need.

5. You don’t discuss your goals anymore

You stopped wondering if he would ever propose two years ago. Well, you told yourself you stopped wondering. Everytime he asked you to go out or suggested you dress up nice or acted even the slightest bit weird, you were bouncy at the idea of him on one knee.

6. You’re drowning in criticism

What was harder than accepting you were never going to be his wife, maybe, was coming to terms with the fact that everyone else wanted it more than you. Seven years is a long time. It hung over both of your heads like a storm cloud of implication. You wondered if he ever planned on marrying you, or if the last seven years have been nothing but fun to him.

And lastly

7. You have no fight left

If you still had any fight left in you, you wouldn’t be googling the seven year curse while he silently sat at the other end of the sofa. You remember the moment you lost it, that last little bit of fight and fire. You remember it easier than you remember what it felt like to be in love with him.

You had shaken your head as Carmen sent another article of some “close friend” talking about how the media was portraying you as a pathological people pleaser. It hurt. Sure, you knew marriage wouldn’t fix everything but it was the fact you didn’t feel wanted or appreciated anymore that finally broke the walls down like a wrecking ball.

Carlos looked over at you watching you shake your head and pocketed your phone. “What’s that about?” He asked, he could tell something was bothering you and he had an inkling of what it could be, but, he wasn’t going to bring it up. If he did, that would make things real.

“Nothing, just… just Carmen sending me another article. I wouldn’t marry me either, you know? Since I’m such a pathological people pleaser,” you looked at him, waiting to see what he’d say. But when the room fell into heavy silence and he just continued to look at you, all you could do was give a curt nod and purse your lips as you got up off the couch and walked upstairs. You couldn’t stand looking at him anymore if he wasn’t going to fight for the relationship you two had.

Sure, you may have been a people pleaser, but that’s just who you were. You liked helping, liked making people happy. But the one thing you wanted most of all? You only wanted Carlos to see you, to see that you’ve been there for him through everything. Not as a complacent stand-in girlfriend, but to mean something to him like you used to back when.

And I'm fading, thinkin'

"Do something, babe, say something" (Say something)

"Lose something, babe, risk something" (You're losing me)

"Choose something, babe, I got nothing" (I got nothing)

"To believe, unless you're choosing me"

Two weeks had gone by and all you could think about was begging him to do something, to say something, anything, to you about how he was feeling. Give up his pride to show he still cared and loved you like you had loved him. It was his choice to make, you couldn’t force him to love you. He had to choose, all he had to do was choose.

But when he didn’t, you took it as a sign. Stop kicking a dead horse, pick yourself up and get on with your life. If he won’t then someone else will. Slowly but surely, every time he left for a race you’d pack up more things and ship them to your parents house. It took a bit longer than you figured it would but when you’ve spent seven years living with someone you realize just how much of your life is grounded in one place.

Once you had gotten all that you had, you stood in front of the dresser mirror looking at the necklace that you had on, remembering the memory of Carlos giving it to you when you both were teenagers. Your fingers play with it and it brings tears to your eyes to reach behind your neck and unclasp it. This would be the first and last time you ever took it off since being gifted it. As you held it in your hand, all crumpled and ready to be tangled, it made you realize that this was real, you were taking the step and finally walking away like you should have when all of this first started. You grabbed your bag off the bed and sat the necklace down on his nightstand knowing he’d find it whenever he got home. Taking one last look around the room you walked out and closed the door behind you, leaving the house key on the kitchen counter as you passed.

A necklace and a house key. The only implication that you were ever here, that you never would be again.

You're losing me

Stop (Stop, stop), you're losing me

Stop (Stop, stop), you're losing me

I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore

Carlos didn’t realize it until it was too late. He had unlocked the front door and the house was eerily quiet and cold. He frowned, set his bags down and realized you must’ve gone out. He checked his phone to make sure he didn’t miss a text from you letting him know, but there was nothing. No text, no call, nothing. It confused him even more as he shut the door and walked further into the house.

He paused when he entered the living room, everything looked normal until he sat his hands on the back of the couch making him pull his hands back in confusion, the fluffy blanket you always had laid there was gone. That made him look around the room even closer, quickly noticing the books and candles you had on the coffee table were no longer there. The pictures above the fireplace were gone, every single trace of you ever being in the house was no longer there.

He skipped half the steps on the way up the staircase, through the hallway and into your room; empty and cold, like the rest of the place. He moved over to the closet swinging the door open, his breath catching in his throat when he saw your side totally bare and empty. The dresser drawers matched.

But he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, laying on his nightstand. As he walked over the tears started pooling in his eyes as he picked the item up, it was the necklace he had given you when you both were sixteen. He had gotten it for you, wanting to show how much he loved and appreciated you. Holding it now just signified how much he had fucked up. You had never taken it off, no matter how many fights you two had gone through over the years. Never. Not until now.

You had given him so many signs that he blatantly ignored or brushed off thinking you would always continue to be there for him despite him acting the way he was.

And now?

The relationship that was so full of love had died and he couldn’t find any way to bring it back to life.

He finally lost you and it was completely his own undoing.

#imagine #formula 1 #series #midnightsseries #midnights song drabbles #you’re losing me #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #formula one x reader

[koostarcandy]

Can I please request a jungkook fic based on two by sleeping at last :) comfort please I’ve kind of been having a hard time mentally lately and I would love for jungkook to take care of me ^w^

love you, always - jungkook x reader

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: angst, comfort, fluff

wc: 1.1k

a/n: you and I both need this, anonie🥺 hope this is upto your expectations ^^ requests are still open btw! i may close them soon :] i made this the moy&i couple cause why not :D send me a song & a member and I'll write up a drabble if the prompt list isn't to your fancy :P

jungkook looks through his phone gallery, satisfied with the pictures of the evening sky. he spams them in your chat, ending the thread with, "come home today, my love."

he stops by the bakery and gets your favourite desserts, knowing you'd bring the savoury food for the night. while he waits for the food, he looks outside and sees a florist, flowers looking so bizarre yet welcome in the bustling street. he gets a bouquet of your favourite tulips after he gets the box of sweet treats, driving home with the image of your happy face in his mind.

he walks into his place and looks around, mood bouncing up when he knows it won't look so bare anymore, your presence more than enough to lighten up the place. he puts the bouquet down near the door, so it'll catch your attention immediately and puts the cake in the fridge. he arranges his mattresses and switches on the tv, pulling up netflix and giggling at the preview of the show he chose for the night.

jungkook changes into comfier clothes than he wore before, settling on the mattress and glancing at bam's empty spot. you both reluctantly sent the boy to his parents' for awhile, your busy schedules clashing, ending up in bamie going away for awhile. none of you took it well but eventually got used to it, the occasional video call to make sure he doesn't forget you.

bouncing his thigh in excitement, jungkook thinks he might burst while waiting. you had to stay at your own place for some time, the penthouse being too far away from your workplace. jungkook insisted on you staying at your place, frequent texts and calls to make sure you both were doing okay, sometimes falling asleep while you were on call. now, with everything settling down, you both decided to meet up soon which makes jungkook look around in panic, making sure everything was just right for you when you came back.

in his panic stricken sudden cleaning, he doesn't hear the jingle of his door opening, heavy shoes thrown aside. he huffs, fluffing up the pillow until it was deemed fluffy enough.

"hi, koo."

jungkook whips his head to your voice, heart falling at the sound of your sad voice. you're clutching the tulips in your hands, bottom lip trembling and bitten shut to stop your tears. "my baby," he gushes, "hello, darling" pulling you close to him immediately, arms shielding you from anything that's bothering you.

"i like the flowers, they're my favourite, they're pretty koo," you mumble into his chest and he knows you're talking to stop yourself from breaking down, your shaky voice giving you away. taking off your coat and putting it in it's designated hanger, jungkook finally takes a proper look at your face, tired eyes looking into his own, shining like the day he first saw you, despite the weariness. "i brought 5 types of fried chicken and cheese tteokbokki, oh and also, i saw this street toast thingy and i bought their most famous one," he looks at the unusually large bag in your hand and takes it from you,

"we're freshening up first, okay? then we're gonna watch the hell out of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, I promise you."

you splash water on your face continuously, willing the tears flow with the cold water. you didn't want to ruin the night like this, you know jungkook was looking forward to this. you can hear him setting up the collapsible table, setting the food you bought for tonight. you finish your night routine and slip into the clothes your lover left out for you. walking out quietly, you find him twiddling his thumbs, mumbling under his breath.

"darling? is something wrong?"

jungkook looks up at you, pulling you into him. "nothing, you look comfy and nice, sweetheart," he wraps his arms around you tightly, "i should be asking you that, my love." he says quietly. you twist yourself until you're facing him, hands on his arms. he cups your face to look at him directly, "you look so tired, baby. is it work? did something happen back home?" you shake your head slightly and let yourself find solace on his shoulder, trembling hands gripping onto his sweatshirt.

"everything's been such a mess lately," you sniffle, "and i feel so clueless and helpless, i've been so alone for the past week and i dont know what to do anymore," you take in breaths rapidly and jungkook wills you to look at him, "breathe with me, darling" he leans your forehead on his, making sure you're following his breathing.

if he could, he would give you all the oxygen he had. he'd make himself a mess to make sure you were back to normal. "i'm proud of you, my love," he holds your face, "and i'm so happy that you're with me, okay?" he thumbs the tears off your face, making sure his own tears from his eyes don't fall. jungkook would take his heart right out of his chest, just to make sure yours was still alive.

"i love you, koo, i'll always love you," you whisper out softly, "i'm grateful you're always here, by my side."

"its a privilege to love you and to be with you, sweetheart." jungkook promises, "i'll love you, always." he rubs your back and lies you down with him, switching off the lights with a swipe of his thumb on his phone.

"rest, my darling, you need it."

"we both need it, koo," you say softly, intertwining your hands. "can we have the kimchi cheese toastie after we wake up after a awhile? and watch tv?"

jungkook chuckles slightly, pressing a loving kiss on your lips, "anything for you, my love."

pt time: @armys-dna ; @joondiary ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @highly-functioning-mitochondria

requests are open~!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts drabbles #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfics #bts fluff #this was like a midnight fix for me #and i hope it is abit of comfort for you too #special thanks to the anonie who sent this song #mwah ily #moy&i #chaenelcore

[chasingmidnights]

The T. Swift Project

Title: Bejeweled

Pairing: Jefferson x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI! I believe the only thing to really look out for is some angst and Jefferson being a little bit an ass. Oh, also, like one curse word. I do believe that's everything, I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read.

A little reflection never hurt anyone, so you looked back at it all but familiarity breeds contempt.

The beginning felt like such a fucking fairytale and you thought you'd found your prince charming.

Little did you know that you were wrong.

Your eyes used to shine like diamonds when you looked at him but now it's time to teach your own lessons, you've been a little too kind.

Overtime he became the madhatter, always obsessed with himself and his work. Never giving you the time of day or support.

You missed him sure, but you also missed being able to sparkle.

Did all of the extra credit then got graded on a curve. Went a little mad yourself along the way.

He better believe that when you walk into a room, you're still bejeweled.

You think about everything and you think you've been a little too kind, you let him walk all over you and somehow you didn't know.

Sadness became your whole sky when you were with him. You only wanted his heart but all he gave you was nothing.

At a party tonight, dancing with some random guy. He told you that your aura's moonstone, but only because he was high.

Jefferson better believe that when you walk into a room that you're still bejeweled and can still make the whole place shimmer.

He could try to change you mind but he might have to wait in line. You'd moved on.

You like being able to shine and making the whole place shimmer.

After all this time and what he put you through, he better believe that you were still bejeweled.

#the t. swift project #taylor swift songs #bejeweled #midnights till dawn edition #midnights taylor swift #midnights era #taylor swift #jefferson once upon a time #jefferson ouat #jefferson x reader #jefferson ouat fandom #jefferson ouat drabble #jefferson ouat fanfiction #jefferson moodboard #jefferson ouat moodboard #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan #once upon a time fanfiction #once upon a time fandom #chasingmarvel original work #chasingmarvel moodboards #courtney writes #courtney creates

[imaginingfrancium]

can't stop thinking about how lucifer's pov went from "i reach for you, but you were gone", relating to his grief on lilith's death... to "my hand was the one you reached for" , which is from the fact his life was changed by MC completely after meeting them.

#bc of Taylor Swift's wide discography there are many songs just overlapping with each other holy shit #result of my maladaptive daydreaming when listening to her lol #song of first lyric: Wonderland (1989) #song of second lyric: The Great War (Midnights) #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me brain rot #obey me drabble #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mc

[sosoane1]

One Line One Fic

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

Tagged by @captainjimothycarter thx <3​

1. I Feel Good (The X Files)

He was holding her close, whispering the lyrics into her ear. Squeezing her tighter, but still, lovingly he planted a kiss on her neck. Muffling the lyrics he was saying. 

2. The complication of getting a prescription refill (The X Files)

She turned to look at him, realizing he didn’t care she saw him shirtless. She shrugged saying ‘‘Well, yeah, I suspected it for a while now. I just figured you would tell me when you're ready. It didn’t feel right to ask. It’s not of my business, as long as you’re happy Mulder.’’ 

3. Jim The Fish (DW 11xRiver)

‘Sweety, you can’t just take a fish out of a pond and keep it.’ She looked at the poor creature who was clearly struggling. She gently took it from his hands and released it back into the water. The fish gladly swam away, but then returned holding his head out of the water. 

4. Take me as you found me or leave me to die (The X Files) (yes the title is super dramatic)

She knew the distance between them had been slowly growing to the size of a canyon. She hated having to push him away, but it seemed like her only option to keep herself from breaking her own heart. Like she was letting herself down slowly. 

5. He Chose Me (Steggy)

So he was surprised when she said his name. First, he was surprised she was still awake, they had been lying in bed for about half an hour. And then when the words registered in his brain, he wasn’t sure he heard her right 

6. Mulder's birthday gift (The X Files)

As per usual, when Emily spotted her parents from the playground, she ran to them and demanded a piggyback ride back to the car, which Mulder obliged. He helped her buckle up as Scully started the car. The drive home was pleasant, Emily recounted how she learned that a caterpillar could become a butterfly. And said they had to draw butterflies, so she had a new artwork for Mulder’s art gallery. 

7. Nobody warned you about me? (DW 11xRiver)

Finally, they saw it, the big blue box. Like a beacon in the sea of all the people. The Tardis was standing exactly where they left it. River thanked god it was because she was not ready to drag The Doctor around the town to look for his box. 

8. A Well-Devised Plan (The X Files)

Everything was going to perfectly until the was a knock at the door. 

9. White Christmas (Steggy)

One day he hoped to work up the courage to go up to her and tell her how he feels. But just because she doesn’t mind his staring, it doesn’t mean that she feels the same way. So for now he will be content with watching from afar. Admiring her determination, her strength, her heart, her soul, everything about her. 

10. Your smile fades in the summer (The X Files)

‘‘This is my sister I was telling you about, the smart one’’ Melissa started. ‘‘Dana, right? My name’s Fox Mulder, but everyone calls me, Mulder.’’ He put his hand out to her but she just stared at it.

Not tagging anyone but if you want to do it concider yourself tagged

#I picket these using a number generator and also skiping all my drabbles #also its very hard to not leave a comment about everysingle one of theme #so these tags will be long because i can't help myself #1 they are listening to i feel good by james brown and the lyrics are so sweet even if the beat is funky #2 scully's reaction to mulder telling her that he's trans is her being like yes i know #3 river love's her idiot husband #4 i know the title is super dramatic but the fic is angsty and a one bed trop okay! #also go listen to take me as you found me by amberlin #5 the name peggy said was micheal #6 little emily enjoying life with her parents will always be the best #7 yet again the doctor is an idiot and got them into trouble #8 i also just put the line that is litteraly just the title because its funny #9 steve just wants to love peggy maybe he could do that for christmas read the fic to find out! #10 for context its a highschool au i think scully is like 14 and mulder 17 or somthing #also for 10 listen to feeling this by blink 182 the lyrics have nothing to do with the fic but i like the song and used it to title the fic #thanks for the tag #these tags are so long im gonna sign off now good night #moon's midnight post #tag game

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | 3 AM

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱

Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career. 

There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.

“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.” 

San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes. 

“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!” 

“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you. 

“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.” 

With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff. 

You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.

“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this. 

But he can’t sleep here. 

“San. San, are you awake?” 

“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!” 

San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to. 

“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.” 

You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.

It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.

San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.” 

He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing. 

“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…” 

“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it. 

“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”

“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!” 

This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.

Like when you need to kick him out of your bed. 

He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy. 

So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.

His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober. 

And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you. 

If you reach that point. 

“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks.  “I like kissing you.” 

You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.” 

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same. 

“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.” 

“Then what time is it?”

Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him. 

“It’s time for you to go to bed.” 

“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again. 

“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on. 

But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.

“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!” 

San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?” 

Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since. 

Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though. 

“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “

The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom. 

“Noona.” 

You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again. 

“She’s in early today, right?” 

The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.

“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.” 

He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?

Yeah, that’s probably it. 

“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.

“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?” 

And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance. 

“Okay.”

San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.

“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly. 

“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.

“Right, none of that.”

“Just cuddles?” 

As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding. 

“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.” 

Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t. 

You’re feeling suddenly inspired. 

(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

#ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #san x reader #choi san x reader #san fanfic #ateez angst #choi san fanfic #fic: it's you

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / fluff!! a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

> content/warnings: jimin cameo!!, a photobooth, oc gets a little hot & bothered bcs jk is a menace lol (they both are <3), touches a biiit on toxic relationships but this is pure fluff and yearning :p (the ex oc mentions is the same as the one mentioned in the first meeting drabble)

> songs: bad - wave to earth / just like magic - ariana grande

> in which masterlist!

note: just a sweet and silly drabble of jungkook being hopelessly whipped for oc before they even became official *to intensify the seven mv brainrot* no i didn’t plan this 🥲 + hehe this was only a week before the first kiss :p reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !! <3

—

“you really came!”

you run towards jungkook with a wide smile that reaches your eyes. the bag hanging on your shoulder swings and strikes your hip due to your excitement, but you could care less about the clinking of coins when there’s a bright star leaning on a lamp post, smiling back at you.

you stand before him as he straightens himself up, puffs of a fleeting cloud appearing as you pant lightly. “dummy, it’s so late. i told you to go to bed. aren’t you tired?”

“exactly, it’s so late.” he emphasizes your words to scold you, concern dripping from the tone of his soft voice. “of course i had to come.”

he tips his head to the side, sparkling eyes drinking you in as if he didn’t just see you the other night.

“you’re so adorable today.”

“thanks. is it because of this?” you happily scrunch your nose at the compliment, tugging at the strings of the brown knitted ear warmers wrapped around your head.

it is near midnight. drowning in the warmth of his bed to flee the freezing season, jungkook should be comfortably resting at home. however, he just had to look for your name in his contact list despite being absolutely knackered… and somehow he ended up here, because if he has been trading his sleep for work all these years, then he can also trade it any day to spend his midnights with you.

an endeared grin spreads on his face, rosy cheeks numb from the cold. “hm, teddy bear.”

a gust of silence passes by as your inquiring eyes survey the white plastic bag hanging from his hand, the company logo stamped in the middle of it familiar since childhood.

“what’s that? are you sick?”

“me?” he points at himself in confusion, shaking his head. “i’m not, though?”

“then why do you have-”

“ahhh- ah!” his face lights up as he is reminded of the other reason he came to you. he slaps his forehead with a chuckle. “i almost forgot.”

jungkook, although still a little shy around you, tries his best to initiate eye-contact when either one of you speaks to avoid giving off the impression that his mind is someplace else when you’re together. however, the mission becomes difficult when you meet his gaze wide-eyed, and he is… breathless.

“you haven’t been feeling well so… uhm, i got you vitamins and more medicine, just incase. here.”

your heart feels like it’s been wrapped in a cozy blanket meant to thaw the winter that has overstayed its welcome, spreading warmth and giddy sparks all the way to the tips of your fingers. you’re relieved that you wore gloves today; he didn’t get electrified when you took the thoughtful gift from his cold hand.

“really? even vitamins?”

the original plan was only to take a peek, but a word written in bold and colorful letters prompts you to bring out the cough medicine for a better look.

oh, jungkook.

you quickly slide it back inside the bag, a laugh accidentally slipping from your mouth. you press your lips into a thin line to suppress the rest of them bubbling in your chest.

“yah, why are you suddenly laughing? did i buy the wrong one?” he questions, nervous about his suspicions being correct.

he follows up with a matter-of-fact tone.

“you said you only like syrup when you have a cough, because it’s soothing.”

“it’s so sweet that you remembered that but…” you giggle, eyes watering as your body quakes with the intensity of it. the image of the packaging flashes in your mind, and you sniffle. “this is for babies.”

“but syrup is really for kids? are they not?”

his doe eyes are shining not with condescension but genuine innocence, and it makes this a whole lot funnier for you.

“yeah, i mean…” you pause as a puzzling realization washes over you.

oh my god, does this mean that this entire time… he’s been thinking that you gulp down bottles of cherry-flavored cough syrup for two-year-old’s? and he didn’t question that? at all?

“i guess you’re right. but they also have one for adults. i was drinking that.”

“huh, that’s what they gave me. and i just assumed-” he gestures at the medicine you’re grasping in your hands before he freezes.

with the clear view of it, he finally discerns how silly of a mistake he has made.

“i must be out of my mind today!”

he breaks out into a fit of laughter, putting a hand over his aching belly.

it’s a sound that has been evoking an inexplicable joy in you since the first time you heard it; a sound that you often miss lately. you still need to remind yourself not to stare at him for too long, scared that he’d be able to read these thoughts from a simple look at your face.

“still, it’s pink. and i bet that tastes better?”

you nod your head in agreement, pulling out the medicine once more to study the directions of use. “with the dropper and everything, i bet it’s a better experience.”

“shit, it- it even has a dropper?”

“i told you! it’s for babies!”

“babies?! no, no. this isn’t it. this won’t do.” he furiously shakes his head as he waves his hand in disapproval, crossing the distance between you to seize your wrist. “let’s go- come with me. let’s go back to the pharmacy. i’ll exchange it for the right one.”

“nope.” you refuse his demands with a smirk, stubbornly breaking away from his grip. “i don’t want to. i’ll keep this.”

“____, come on!”

“but you already gave it to m- jungkook!” you squeal when he makes a move to steal the item from your hands.

out of reflex, you hide them from him behind yourself. and unsurprisingly, that doesn’t deter jungkook’s endless supply of friskiness. he chases you as he reaches for your back, and you carelessly stumble multiple steps backwards to escape him. whimpering at the unexpected impact, you finally reach a dead-end, trapped between a wall and the boy who’s been making your winter a little less blue. your forehead lands on his chest, defeated, and he keeps you steady with a secure hold of your arms.

a harmony of breathy giggles imbues the silence of the deserted sidewalk.

“what are you even going to do with it? you can’t drink it anyway!”

you lift up your head with a drawn-out whine.

you can’t give him an answer.

to be honest, you’re just as clueless as jungkook is.

“ehhh?” he mimics the sound you made with an amused expression painted on his face. you’re too damn adorable for your own good, and it’s doing very dangerous things to his heart. “will you? are you a baby?”

the rhetorical question is a bait that you choose to bite.

“not really, but i can be your baby.” you shrug, melting him with a coquettish smile.

“ah, i see… is that term of endearment your type? you want to be mine?”

his teasing grin puts his dimples on display, and you desperately want to run back into your apartment just to spend a full minute screaming into your pillow. you’re thoroughly convinced that you’ve never felt more attracted to a person than you are to jungkook. this is bad news. you don’t know to what lengths you’re willing to go so that he could stay in your life for as long as you want. it’s terrifying and exhilarating.

“just to set the record straight, you want me to be yours.”

“and if i do? then what…? are you confident you can handle me?”

every nerve connected to your heart is a wire most alive when you yearn to bare it for another.

“try me.”

his hazy eyes falls to your lips and he goes a little crazier than he was the other night. it’s infuriating that you manage to make them look so soft and so inviting despite the frigid air. it’s dizzying, how his face is only inches away from yours and as always, you smell so sweet, just right. he wonders if you taste the same.

jungkook is dying to kiss you.

the thought has been plaguing his mind, haunting his dreams both day and night. he keeps screaming at himself to just fucking do it, but as much as he is impulsive, he doesn’t want to be the guy who catches you off guard. he doesn’t want you confusing your feelings for him with adrenaline. he wants the moment to feel right. he wants you to see that he’s sincere, and he’s nothing like those bastards who took you for granted…

selfishly, he wants this to be something real, co-existing with the fear of pushing you into a tornado of chaos that is his life.

his heart is pounding violently, he’s afraid it might jump through his sweater. the right moment feels like it could be right now, and he knows you feel it too. he observes your breathing getting heavier, and one of your restless hands has freed itself to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

your lips slightly part, and he doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation, or you did it on purpose to rile him up. he figures his jimin-hyung is right; he would be a fool if he allowed you to slip out of his hands. but truth be told, he’s the one wrapped around your finger.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he is doomed.

a pin drops and he is doomed.

his ringtone rattles the silence and slices through the tension between you. disappointment flashes across your face, and you visibly flinch at its loudness. you’ve grown to despise the incessant noise of telephone calls since moving to your apartment, one of your pet peeves jungkook is yet to hear about. panicked and irritated, he scrambles to dish out the vibrating device from the depth of his pocket.

“it’s… it’s my manager. but it’s fine, i’ll handle it.” he informs you quietly as he rejects the call, opting to send a text explaining his whereabouts.

a pang of guilt shoots through your heart.

“you can go home, it’s okay… i can take care of myself.”

“mhm-hm.” he shakes his head, still busy typing away. then, out of nowhere, he looks at you to properly plead. “don’t send me home yet.”

your eyes flicker to watch a piece of ice fall on his shoulder, white contrasting the black fabric of his jacket. another one lands on your hand, and then your collarbone. the stinging coldness, another thing that makes you flinch tonight. you look up to face the snowfall fiercely coming down, and it seems that the heaven opened up the sky to scold two lovesick teenagers tangled in a modern-day dalliance.

goddamn it, you curse.

“are you kidding me?” you grunt in frustration, eyebrows sharpening your previously dazed eyes.

jungkook barely manages to tap the deliver button before you begin dragging him to the roofed entrance of your apartment building.

“stay here. i’ll just grab an umbrella real quick.”

“okay.”

once he confirms that you’re out of sight, he releases a loud sigh, exasperatedly kicking a non-existent ball on the cemented floor.

“fuck! fuck! why? why do i move so slow? ah- they can’t just kill the mood like that. why-” he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge and putting a hand over his hip, so upset he can’t even speak straight. “we almost… shit, this is driving me insane… she hates me. she must hate me right now. i’m done for.”

—

the aggressive slam of the front door rings throughout your apartment, and you’re about ninety-nine percent certain you disturbed the sleep of a neighbor or two.

“then what?” you grumble to yourself, followed by a desperate cry. “then kiss me! do i really have to do everything myself?”

after grabbing the biggest umbrella you own from the basket you have beside your coat rack, you head to the kitchen where you leave behind what jungkook bought you.

eventually, your overthinking leads you to a bitter conclusion.

“does he not want something more? is he playing with me?!”

and if it was any other person, you’d be fine with that but… your gaze lands on the bottles of vitamins and cough medicine, and you sigh to regulate the accelerated beating of your heart.

“but i think i can finally do this right.”

your voice comes out above a whisper, and the verbal declaration alone fuels the hope in you.

you’re confused whether it’s a sign of luck or childishness. maybe the compensation for being well-acquainted with loss, or good karma if you decide to push it some more… but you always get what you want. despite the blood, sweat, and tears; even during the instances that you do give up, the universe somehow finds a way to arrange matters in your favor.

except you don’t want to give up on this just yet, and you don’t intend to just stand around waiting for the universe work its slow burn magic.

because you look out your bedroom window, and jungkook is squatting on the floor with his head in his hands, looking distraught as if he just lost the lottery and he was only a digit off.

you might be unsure about your label, but he sure wanted to kiss you pinned up against that wall.

—

jungkook casually steals glances from you every now and then. you’ve been softly humming to christmas songs as the ice underneath your feet crunches with every step you take, influenced by the heavy snowfall despite the holidays being long gone.

when you came back, he thought you’d be giving him the cold shoulder, reminiscent of when you got pissed off at a hair stylist not even a week ago (that day, he learned that you’re grumpy when sick, grumpier when jealous). but instead, you lent him a white fuzzy scarf to keep him warm.

“where are we going?” he asks, unaware of your destination.

he’s just been following your lead for the past five minutes or so. he only knows that you’re going someplace that will satisfy your midnight cravings, as you mentioned over the phone earlier.

“i haven’t told you?” you wince. “just mcdonald’s. i’m craving their fries… hmmm, and chocolate sundae.”

“sundae? but you have a cough.”

“i’m all better now! that’s why i’m getting it!” you keen with excitement.

except jungkook is worried. at home and at work, he has many people fussing over him when he’s not feeling well. most of the time, you only have yourself to rely on. he doesn’t like thinking about your past boyfriends, but he hopes that they took care of you when you would get sick. as for the future, he hopes that he’s there.

he perks up when he sees the pharmacy store he’s been thoughtfully scanning both sides of the streets for, recognizing the lightbox signage. “let’s stop here. i’ll buy you your adult syrup.”

“jungkook,” you giggle airily, pulling at his jacket to motion him not to go near it. “i just told you that i’m not sick anymore.”

“it’s better to be prepared.” he reasons.

the snowfall has ceased. he transfers the umbrella to his other side, freeing his hand to hold yours and tug you along with him. he childishly pretends to not hear your protests.

he’s not showing it, but he must be embarrassed about earlier. you can’t help but to smile from ear to ear, watching his back as you’re left a few steps behind, the two of you tied together by his warm and protective grip of your hand.

“jungkook,”

your voice is calmer and quieter. he whips his head back, concerned eyes twinkling from the blaring headlights on the road.

“i’m thirsty.”

—

you’re blissfully unaware of jungkook falling in love with you from the opposite side of the table.

thoroughly engrossed with the movie-like scene outside the glass wall, you’re clutching an apple juice box in both hands, plastic straw stuck between your lips as you take baby sips. he probably sounds like a broken record, but there’s something different in the air tonight, and you’re twice as pretty in his eyes.

“i can sue you for that, you know?”

he drops his phone in shock. he chases it in pure panic as it clashes with the table before tumbling down to his lap. when he puts it down, the screen is already black, a desperate attempt of hiding the raw evidence of his offense. he smiles back at you sheepishly, cheeks and ears flushed after being caught red-handed.

“aren’t i cute? you already made it your lockscreen, haven’t you?” you tease, eyes flickering up to him as you begin stabbing at the chocolate sundae with the little plastic spoon to mix it.

“made what my lockscreen? no, i didn’t!” he strongly denies, holding up his phone to show it to you.

“plain black, really? what happened to gureumie?”

you send him a look of distaste.

“just makes me believe i’m really your lockscreen and you change it to something random before you come see me.” you say in a sing-song voice, shivering with delight after you lick your spoon clean of the sugary treat.

“don’t start. yours is your class schedule!” he retorts with a laugh, which goes up in volume when you slap his hand away for attempting to steal from your fries.

you scowl at him with a displeased pout, dipping a fry into the sundae before popping it in your mouth. “get away. i’m hungrier because you took so long.”

the effect of having your cravings satisfied is instantaneous. it was absolute hell, being sick, albeit it was only a cough accompanied by fatigue. it’s simply no fun being an adult and having no one enter your room every two hours to check up on you. for the first time in the past week, your brain is completely flooded with happy chemicals, and you feel like a little kid kicking their feet with glee.

“it’s not my fault! they had to do something to the ice cream machine… i-i think it stopped working.” jungkook stutters, stuffing his mouth full with a spoonful of his strawberry sundae.

of course, it’s the ice cream machine. it’s always the ice cream machine.

with a gasp, you weakly slam the empty juice box on the table. “wow, i almost didn’t get what i came here for.”

“but you did. ‘cause you’re with your lucky charm.” jungkook cheekily winks at you, and you long to kiss that stupid grin off his face.

—

“holy shit, he’s kneeling down now. kook, he’s begging- look-”

jungkook is convinced he has never seen your eyes this big. he looks at you dumbfoundedly, cheeks full as he chews a huge bite of his burger. you release a sigh, reaching over to turn his face to the side.

outside, just a few feet away at the opposite direction his body is facing, he discovers an angry tear-stained woman sitting on a bench and a man crying on his knees infront of her.

he swallows, tilting his head. huh, so this is what you were watching earlier when you didn’t notice him arrive with the food. funnily enough, this isn’t considered an unusual occurence in such a populated city.

“i knew it. he’s cheating, he’s definitely cheating.” you squint at the scene, shooting daggers in your mind. you rely on muscle memory as you continue to munch and dip your fries in the sundae without bothering to look anymore.

they were still arguing when you gave jungkook your undivided attention, but the shift in the atmosphere captured your interest again when your peripheral vision caught him on the ground.

“how do you know?”

“he panicked and snatched his phone away when she touched it. that’s why they started fighting.”

a sick feeling in your gut deflects your eyes away from the forlorn couple, the salt and the sugar in your food starting to taste bland on your tongue. on the other hand, it seems that it’s jungkook’s turn to be absorbed in them.

“oh, that makes sense.” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. “seriously, i’ll never understand cheaters. why… would you go out of your way to hurt a person who’s special to you?”

and because of that, his food are left to be unsupervised. with the hopes of resparking your appetite by stealing a taste of something you haven’t had in over a year, you scoop up a small bite of his strawberry sundae.

“that person isn’t special anymore, or maybe they never were in the first place.”

“but if you’re loved by that person, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, shouldn’t they still be special to you in some ways?”

he returns to his previous position, and the passion written in his eyes like constellations makes you want to believe that maybe the world isn’t a lost cause. it’s a breath of fresh air — the new point of view clear as day infront of you. jungkook is your best friend, it dawns on you then and there.

a best friend who sends you pictures of the sky. a best friend who won’t let you roam the midnight streets with melancholy. a best friend you want to kiss and hold hands with.

“they should, but they’re horny assholes who don’t think about stuff like that.”

“ah, then what a shame.” he chuckles with a scornful shake of his head, finally going back to devouring his burger.

it’s silent for a few beats.

right now, you like the strawberry flavor more than the chocolate. it tastes better than you remember. it’s rekindling an old flame.

“are you that type of boyfriend? who gives out their password?” your voice is rife with interest as you casually steal another spoonful of jungkook’s dessert.

“of course, i don’t mind. i have nothing to hide. i just have the most random photos, and like a thousand voice memos… but… how do i say it?” he pauses to organize his thoughts, eyes pointing towards ceiling. “uhm, it can get uncomfortable, and hurtful… if they always thoroughly check everything. i don’t know…”

“no, i get that. my ex was doubtful of me all the time and it was tiring. giving reassurance is important, but so is having boundaries… never forget that, understand?”

you radiate with so much tenderness, he finds it so easy to listen to every word that you say. but since you already understand the importance of balancing those two things, can he just forget about it and admire your face?

“is that why you broke up with him?”

you pucker your lips in thought, playfully twirling the plastic spoon between your fingers.

“i guess so? he… he just sees me as a bad person. and i was starting to believe that i am.” you decide to put it lightly, scoffing when the mortifying memories of him floods your mind. “when i had that epiphany, i broke up with him right away. we just weren’t good for each other.”

jungkook utters your name, mellow and sweet, like a serenade.

you’re reminded that he sings for a living.

“hmm?”

“i don’t know what happened between you but… when i say you’re a good person, i’m really being sincere.”

during the fall, talking about your past relationship made your heart feel unbearably heavy.

but tonight, it’s winter. jungkook holds out his little spoon to feed you a bite of his strawberry sundae, and you accept it without thinking.

uh-oh.

you peer up to him shyly.

“and because you were so kind to me the first time we met, i don’t mind you being a thief.” he fondly strokes your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your body vibrates with giggles. “aigoo, you eat so well. good job, ____.”

—

“where you are taking me? this isn’t the way home!”

jungkook has an arm around swung over your shoulder, gluing you to his side as you walk together. the last time you checked the time, it was 1:27am. the stores you brush past are already lights off, locked up, and the sidewalk is mostly dead and quiet.

“i really like taking photos, you know?” he grins, sounding thrilled, and you glance at him with suspicion in your eyes.

“i’m very much aware. and so?”

you yawn not long after, leaning some of your weight on him as tiredness seeps into your overused muscles. you’re awfully sleepy, and cold. you can hear your bed calling out your name from kilometers away.

“so we’ll take some together.”

from a distance, you immediately recognize the famous photobooth only several buildings away from the noisy night life of the long rows of bars and nightclubs.

you feel your knees go weaker.

oh, you’re in very serious trouble.

—

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his muscular thighs.

“sit here?” he pats his lap as an invitation, looking up to your motionless figure still standing infront of the closed curtain. “or do you want me to stand behind the chair?”

curse him and his intoxicating perfume and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“four photos and… we’ll print… two copies.” he thinks out loud, face so close to yours as he taps on the screen infront.

curse the stupid person who decided to only put one small stool in this small photobooth.

you won’t dare to make it obvious, but your heart is doing somersaults. you realize how arrogant you were for whining about him not kissing you yet, because here you are trying your hardest not to squirm as you’re sat across his lap.

unconsciously, you embrace the scarf he took off close to your chest.

it’s… been quite a long, torturous while of being deprived of physical touch. and you like jungkook. you like jungkook so much that despite hating cramped spaces, you flash the camera a sweet smile while playfully squishing his pouty face in your hand.

“oh, oh, that’s right!”

a yellow lightbulb appears above his head. he bounces his legs to capture your attention, his arms tightening around your waist to prevent you from falling off.

you cross your thighs to subtly squeeze them together, a poor attempt at putting out the fiery tingles spreading throughout your body. you swallow thickly. he needs to fucking sit still. your self-control is running thin.

“act angry at me and i’ll put it as the first picture, okay?”

“huh? why?”

“so i’ll always remember that you got annoyed at me for dragging you here.”

“and i’m still annoyed!” you slap his chest with a frown, glaring at him exactly as he imagined you would.

his mischievous grin stays when he faces the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign as the flash goes off.

when the timer starts again, he rushes to reach for the floor, sticking his hand in the paper bag from the pharmacy.

“for the next one- stay still-”

you’re completely clueless. your vision remains fixed on him until he reveals a bunch of pink ribbon hairclips on his big palm.

“where did you get these?” you blink at him.

he only shushes you as he removes the earwarmers from your head, thoughtfully fixing your hair before carefully adorning it with the ribbons as fast as he can.

“the ice cream machine wasn’t broken, was it?”

“shhh, we’re running out of time.” he rebukes you to mask his bashfulness, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he focuses on arranging the ribbons symetrically.

“are these mine?”

“yours.” he confirms absentmindedly. he backs up to inspect his work, but he only ends up thinking to himself is it right for someone to be this beautiful?

the time runs out before you can deem yourself ready. the camera captures jungkook trying to tame your baby hairs, and you, watching him with a faint smile of affection.

“what do we do now?”

he shrugs. “let’s do whatever we want.”

“wow, i can finally do what i want?” you reply sarcastically. “i thought you were prepared for this.”

“three seconds!”

since you’re already smiling in the other two photos, you figure that it’s your turn to pout in the last.

the number ‘1’ appears on the screen, and you feel him pull you closer than you’ve ever been.

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his hand on your neck and his soft lips pressed to your cheek.

—

“you’re sneaky.”

“you’re one to talk.” jungkook replies, and you roll your eyes.

he chuckles to himself as he scans his copy of the photostrip under the street lamp beside the photobooth. on the other hand, your back is resting against it, your arms crossed over your chest. you take a fleeting glance at him, secretly smiling to yourself because he looks so happy.

yours is tucked in between the pages of the book inside your bag.

later. you can look at it later when you’re a little more sane and the ghost of his lips stops lingering on your skin.

“i don’t just let myself get kissed for free. don’t you know that?” you heave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. “but since you bought me new clips,”

you turn your cheek to stare at him, but you instantly break the eye contact when you see how he looks like an excited puppy when he’s amused by you.

“…i’ll let this pass.”

“i think i just found the motivation to make more money today.”

you crack up at his words. “shut up!”

god, you’re getting swayed by his antics. he has too much hidden underneath his sleeve. you need to up your game.

a breeze sweeps across the earth, and you sniffle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. it’s getting colder and your battery is draining rapidly as the clock ticks. you die a little inside when you think about the consequences of your late-night adventure. there has to be time for you to squeeze in a nap between school and work, right? right? unbeknownst to you, jungkook takes notice of your weary state. he crosses the distance between you to wrap the ear warmers around your head.

“tsk, you’re going to catch a cold.” he whispers, loosely tying the straps under your chin. he reaches for a ribbon, but then pauses to ask for permission. “do you want to take off these now, so you won’t fall asleep on them? these are kind of sharp.”

“stop taking such good care of me.” you say half-jokingly, starting to remove them on your own. “i might get used to it.”

this upsets jungkook, it seems.

his lips are in a permanent pout as he answers, eyebrows knitting together. “what’s wrong with that?”

you only shake your head with a vague smile.

—

JK :

4:11am

[sent four photos]

credit GCF if you post on insta

got it?

you’re welcome !!!

4:13am

hehe you must be sleeping now right?

you better be !

4:18am

the truth is i’m a bit shy to tell you this in person but ... thank you for being someone i can spend time with comfortably and for always making me smile. i really like you a lot .. i mean that sincerely too

sweet dreams ____ :)

—

“goodnight, jungkook.”

you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, painstakingly chaste yet sinfully calculated. he was left all alone in the empty hallway of your apartment floor, too stunned to remember and return your scarf.

it is not the first time you did that, but his mind is reeling like crazy tonight — the corner of his lips is still stained with the graze of your lips.

a rhythmic knock snaps him out of the electrifying memory.

“jungkook-ah,” a freshly-awoken jimin raspily croaks out while he rubs his blurry eyes. “did you bring home anything?”

is this becoming a routine now? him visiting at an ungodly hour in the morning; jungkook sitting up without a word to retrieve the snacks from under his bed.

“thank you.”

he receives an appreciative pat on the back before jimin grabs one of the diamond-shaped biscuits you earnestly made a whole tray of, enough to go around for seven people. he nibbles on it as he flops down on the mattress, planning to sleep here some more until it’s time to prepare for work.

however, his drowsiness gets pushed to the back burner when the photostrip beside the maknae’s pillow attracts his attention.

“yo, jungkook! is this from tonight?”

“hyung! be quiet!” jungkook whisper-shouts.

“the staff didn’t mention a photobooth to me. is this a secret?” the late-night visitor whispers back to humor him.

the bed creaks as he chases the printed memories from jimin’s grasp, who seems to have gained enough energy to tease him, heartily giggling as he rolls away to the edge of the bed.

“yah, you’re so cute together?!”

jungkook’s bunny teeth pop out as he’s unable to resist a satisfied beam at the flattering remark. damn right, they do.

pulling out a pillow from behind him, he playfully hits jimin with the huge bundle of cotton. “hyung, finish eating and go back to sleep. we have that thing later, remember?”

“you’re hurting my feelings. what happened to telling your hyung about your crush?”

—

“wait a second- i’m still confused. you sprinted to the fashion boutique before ordering?” jimin flips over to lie down on his stomach, speech muffled by the biscuit between his lips.

“they close at midnight, so i had to run there first.” jungkook explains as he reseals the tupperware. weirdly, he only feels the ache in his body now that he’s talking about it. “she really likes things like that.”

“you’ve told me. so how long do you plan on keeping that in here?”

his gaze lands on the paper bag labelled ‘CHANEL’ on the other side of the room, and he makes a pained expression, still agonizing over whether he should give it to you or not.

“but don’t you think it’s too much? maybe i should save it for her birthday.”

“be honest with me. does she even know you’re courting her?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

[yok00k]

coming down

pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk

genre: angst

“i always want you when i’m coming down”

sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.

wordcount: around 1,000

warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication

author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts

an absolute ideal.

his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.

and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.

calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.

Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.

and I was there by his side. I chose to be.

I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.

I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.

I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.

I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.

I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.

I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.

The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake

“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.

a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.

my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.

It's alright.

I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.

it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.

I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.

I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.

“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.

‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’

the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.

the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.

indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.

his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.

I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.

regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.

Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.

“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.

and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook angst #jungkook ff #jjk angst #bts angst #bts ff #jeon jk #jungkook #bts jk #angst #emocore

[thatdammchickennugget]

SLYTHERIN BOYS - MASTERLIST

☆ no rating

★ mature

♡ requested

THEODORE NOTT;

➵ series

★ love is embarrassing [finished]

➵ oneshots

☆ just my type ★ cruel summer ☆♡ second chances

➵ drabbles/blurbs

★♡ thigh-ly adored ☆♡ game over

➵ headcanons

☆♡ theodore nott x pregnant!reader ☆ folklore era

MATTHEO RIDDLE;

➵ series

☆ how you get the girl [ongoing]

➵ oneshots

★ take care of my girl - feat. enzo ☆ can I...?

➵ drabbles/blurbs

☆♡ whipped ☆♡ brewing tension ☆ too sweet ☆♡ lost cause ☆♡ got you on my mind ★♡ well, good morning to you too ☆♡ c'est ta love story

➵ headcanons

☆♡ protective mattheo riddle x pregnant!reader / part two ★♡ obsessive!mattheo riddle x female!reader ☆ midnights era

LORENZO BERKSHIRE;

➵ series

☆ white lie [ongoing]

➵ oneshots

☆ help me out here ☆ smoke slow ★ pushing buttons ☆ I could give you 50 reasons ☆♡ reading between the lines ↳ ☆ bookish escapades (part two) ☆♡ summer kisses

➵ drabbles/blurbs

☆♡ butterbeer and comfort ☆♡ sugar sweet ☆♡ don't mind them ☆♡ something special

➵ headcanons

☆ enzo berkshire crewmate x captain's daughter ☆♡ enzo berkshire childhood best friends to lovers ☆ 1989 era

BLAISE ZABINI;

➵ oneshots

★♡ what he's missing ☆ serendipitous encounters [blaise x luna]

➵ drabbles/blurbs

☆♡ sleepy study sessions

➵ headcanons

☆ red era

DRACO MALFOY;

➵ headcanons

☆ reputation era

PANSY PARKINSON;

➵ drabbles/blurbs

★ that's a good girl

➵ headcanons

☆♡ pansy's type

SLYTHERIN BOYS;

☆ all the slytherin boys are pretty but... ☆ the slytherin boys as romance tropes ☆ the slytherin boys building snowmen ☆ the slytherin boys as demigods ☆ the slytherin boys and their pets ☆ the slytherin boys playing d&d ☆ slytherin boys pirate au blurbs ☆ the slytherin boys in the avatar the last airbender universe ☆♡ the slytherin boys dating a diabetic!reader ☆♡ the slytherin boys dating a anaemic!reader ☆♡ the slytherin boys as tarot cards ☆ the slytherin boys as hozier songs

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #masterlist #series masterlist #hogwarts #mari writes #slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini #draco malfoy

[hanlimz]

[midnight thoughts: jungwon + the sublime]

synopsis: after an arduous battle, jungwon isn't sure if he's going to make it, but he has to say something before he goes. pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader genre/warnings: spiderwon!au, angst with happy ending / mentions of blood, discussions of death, overall angsty themes but no one actually dies!, lots of confessions of love, and weird inclusion of "the sublime" bc we talked abt it in my eng class, also NOT proofread :,) wc: ~2.4k (haha OOPS) a/n: heyyyy how yall doin :))))) this has been sitting in my drafts forEVER ... and i finished it at 1am b4 my first day of school so be warned for inconsistencies / i liked the first half of this drabble but the second half is not my fave ,, so sorry that i couldn't do you justice spiderwon

yang jungwon never believed in the concept of the sublime. that uncanny mixture of overwhelming fear and unsettling fascination never managed to make an impression on him. especially in his line of work, jungwon is firm in his notion of death: when the time comes, a vast blackness will consume him; the void will leech away his life, and he will cease to exist. there will be no theatrics, no white light, no booming voice or angel song—only a comforting emptiness welcoming him into the dark.

now, however, jungwon lies alone in a familiar back alley; the tips of his fingers are numb from the amount of blood he's lost, and he can hardly lift his head up from the brick wall it's resting on. the palms of his hands are stained a deep crimson as he attempts to stop the river of red spilling from his thigh. jungwon admires the eerily beautiful way in which the body lets go; glinting in the dim street lights, his wounds glitter like rubies in a summer sunset. at this point, succumbing to his injuries seems inevitable, and jungwon thinks there may be some truth to be found in sublimity.

but, he's not ready to die. not yet—not with so many things left undone, so many things left unsaid.

with the little strength he has left, jungwon reaches for his backpack hidden in the nook behind the dumpster. he pulls out his phone and dials a number number he knows by heart; his cold fingers fumble over the screen, and he curses his current lack of dexterity. eventually, though, the machine begins to ring. the sound grates on his ears as he waits with bated breath for you to pick up.

"hello?" you croak, your question laden with sleep, "who is it?"

a breathy chuckle escapes jungwon's lips. he had forgotten how late it was, how you mentioned earlier that you had a calulus exam tomorrow, and just how gorgeous you sounded when you were tired. "sorry, [y/n] ... didn't mean to wake you," jungwon sighs, "just wanted to hear your voice."

"won, seriously?" you scoff, "this couldn't have waited 'til tomorrow? i mean, it's—it's two in the morning ... i was literally just dreaming about acing that calc test."

a dopey grin fastens itself to jungwon's lips as he wills his eyes to stay open. if he falls asleep, he knows there's a possibility that he won't get back up; so, he indulges for a bit, listening to your fatigued grumbling and smiling like an idiot. "honestly, m'not sure if tomorrow's in my cards, [y/n]," he admits, trying to hide how labored his breaths are becoming, "'nd i jus' wanted to hear you one last time."

"yang jungwon, what the hell are you—" jungwon knows exactly when you realize he's in trouble. he knows exactly when you realize he's not messing with you. the abrupt pause, the hitch in your breath, the way you inhale through your teeth—it's almost too obvious. "oh fuck," you continue, "oh shit ... won, where are you? are you hurt? what can i do to help?"

jungwon coughs out a laugh, "'m in the alley off jackson ave, 'nd i think i've bled on every piece of old furniture back here, if that says anything."

your breathing is frantic. jungwon listens to the sound of rustling clothes and the occasional thud of your foot as it hits your bed frame. you're cursing and mumbling and unravelling at the seams, searching for whatever you can that might help you help jungwon. out loud, you go through a list: gauze, neosporin, saline.

"am i missing anything?" you ask, not expecting a response.

"bandages?" jungwon replies.

"bandages!" you exclaim, "i almost forgot the fucking bandages?" there's more noise on the other side of the phone, and jungwon doesn't let himself relax until he hears your window crack open. metal clangs as you rush down the fire escape; he wills the beating of his heart to match the tempo of your feet against the steps. jungwon wills himself to stay alive. and, it's almost as though you can read his mind through the phone. "don't you dare fall asleep, yang jungwon. talk to me about something—anything—just don't fall asleep."

he racks his brain for a topic of conversation; the nerves building in his stomach as he anticipates next week's orgo exam, the cat he rescued from a tree in queensbridge park earlier today, the new thai restaurant that opened up near his apartment building. options race through his mind, but all of jungwon's thoughts lead back to you.

"i love you," jungwon says, abrupt yet resolute.

"oh god." you suck in an incredulous gasp, "you're delirious. this is—"

"i'm not delirious," he interrupts, voice hauntingly clear. "i know what i'm saying. and, i'm saying that i love you, [y/n] [l/n]."

for a moment, the line crackles with a thick, viscous silence that seeps through the grainy static; it's heavy, almost too real, and jungwon listens to the sound of your shoes slamming against the pavement until you speak again. "okay," you sigh, something unreadable swimming behind your words, "keep talking to me, jungwon."

jungwon takes in a deep breath before speaking again. his whole body is cold now, and if it weren't for the weakness spreading throughout his veins, he's positive his teeth would be chattering. inhaling the concoction of gasoline fumes, freshly dumped trash, and frigid, autumn air, jungwon feels the chill of the reaper creeping up the length of his spine. its spindly fingers beckon him into that same darkness he was once so sure of, once so okay with. but, jungwon can't let himself give in to its temptation. after all, he has someone waiting for him.

"you give me this feeling," jungwon declares in an inexplicable moment of lucidity, "'nd i dunno how to explain it. it's—it's like ... i look at you, and you pull me in. an invisible string, maybe? fate? true love? i'm—i have no idea what to call it. you always make me want to know more, even though i've known you forever. since we were kids, [y/n]—i've felt like this for years. and, i'm sorry. i'm sorry for not telling you earlier, for not telling you when i told you about the whole spiderman thing.

"i'm such an idiot for making you worry. someone who loves you shouldn't do that to you, i shouldn't do that to you. and, god [y/n]—i love you so much. you're this force of nature, you know? drawing me in, even though it's dangerous. and, even though i'm terrified of what the consequences might be, i love you so much that i'm afraid to die without saying it at least once.

"i'm—i'm so sorry for being so stupid, because—" jungwon whispers with a shaky voice, teetering on the edge of consciousness, "i love you, [y/n]. i love you."

jungwon's hearing is fading in and out, and his vision is growing blurry; but, the sounds of your footsteps accompanied by the incessant drone of his phone keeps him from slipping into that overwhelming darkness. you take in a sharp breath, and his head lolls in your direction. jungwon's lips are molded into a mindless, faraway smile; his eyes are misted over, foggy with both pain and fatigue. he's not all there, but he still manages to be cheerful. it astounds you.

rushing over to begin applying all the first aid supplies you managed to stuff into your backpack. wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash gauze bandage, wound-washgauzebandage. the sheer amount of blood that has been leeched from his body makes you dizzy; your head is spinning as you try to calculate just how many pints would be equal to what you've just sopped up. glancing up at your best friend (crush? lover?) you see that his eyes have drooped shut. his skin is pallid, his lips are pale, his neck is craned at an awkward angle as it rests on his shoulder. and, your heart stops because you didn't get to say it back.

"no. no, no, no ... won—jungwon, wake up!" a storm brews in your stomach. it starts as a mellow rain pattering against the lining of your intestines, then becomes a raging tempest as it bubbles up and out of your throat. "please, please, please! i got here in time, i swear—i never cared about the stupid, fucking calc test! i cared about you, i care about you! and, i'm here now, so you can't leave. you can't leave me."

an inhuman shriek claws through your lips, ricocheting against the brick walls that seem to be caving in around you; the weight of the world crashes into your frail shoulders, threatening to crush you. as you inch even closer to jungwon's shrouded figure, your pants are soaked through with a crude mixture of blood and rainwater. you reach out for him and cup his cheek with a trembling hand, and part of you swears his skin is still warm to the touch.

but, hope has no place here.

instead, you cradle his head and heave his body to rest against yours. he is astonishingly heavy; you can feel his muscles ripple beneath the tips of your fingers, but you're already convinced. your best friend is dead. slowly, the cement will absorb his heat, and he will grow cold. as the morning draws nigh, you will be forced to put his mask back on and leave him for someone else to find. then, the news articles will pour in, and the city will have stolen not only his life, but his death as well. tears are wetting his scalp as you bury your nose into his sweat-caked hair. you're gripping at his suit so hard you think the threads might snap, and the throbbing in your head is nothing compared to the agony in your heart.

the wailing doesn't stop until, in your peripherals, you see his finger twitch. sucking a staggering breath through his nose, jungwon cracks open a tired eye to gaze up at you. "i would—" he coughs out with a wince, "i would never leave you."

in your stupor, his voice doesn't register first. his mouth moves, but no sound escapes him; then, the words play over again in your mind while his lips remain closed. seconds melt into minutes, and you float away from your body. a numbness overtakes you as you stare at the scene before you from about five feet away; your fingers are still clutching at the suit fibers, the pajamas you chose earlier tonight are now saturated with blood, and jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing.

snapping back into yourself, you place a weak hand on his chest. steadily, certainly—it rises and falls; the beating of his heart, though shallow and slow, thrums beneath your palm. shifting your stare to his face, you are greeted once again by a familiar, wry smile. jungwon is alive. despite all odds, the boy you love is alive; and, try as you might, you can't really help yourself.

"[y/n]?" he croaks, quirking the eyebrow above his less swollen eye, "can you hear—"

"i love you, too."

the utterance dangles precariously in the frigid midnight air. jungwon's lack of response causes your stomach to churn until he relexes further into your frame, huffing out a pained laugh. he lets himself rest for a moment, relishing in the warmth he manages to leech from your skin. "it wasn't ... wasn't supp—supposed to happen like this, you know?" jungwon protests, voice catching on his fatigue and discomfort. "i ... had everything planned—planned out."

"won, you don't—"

baring his teeth, he lifts a hand to hold the one you kept on his chest and barrels through your objection. "i was gonna take you to the met ... gonna take you for a pic—a picnic in central park." jungwon sputters, pressing his forehead against your upper arm, "then, we would swing ... back to your apartment. 'nd, i was gonna tell—tell you. tell you about how i feel."

still supporting his neck with your arm, you move to take his face in your palm once more. jungwon's gaze is sharper than it was just minutes ago—more focused, more alert. the emotions swirling in those deep pools of raw umber are more multitudinous than the stars they reflect. gratitude, torment, joy, defeat, love. bridging the gap that had separated the two of you for so long, you stop just shy of his lips. a dynamic heat emanates from them; jungwon is practically vibrating under your touch, living and breathing.

"are you okay?" you ask, "is this okay?"

jungwon answers by pushing himself up—closing the distance, sharing your breath, connecting your souls. salt and iron dance on his tongue as your tears mingle with his blood. it's a hypnotizing concoction—one that threatens to send him reeling, one that threatens to have him spinning out with no hope of return. fireworks explode behind his eyelids, a myriad of bright reds and vibrant oranges blinds him, and jungwon uses what is left of his strength to grip your wrist; he grounds himself and allows his lungs to burn as he breathes you in.

after a while, however, your parting is instinctual as the lack of oxygen forces you apart—two bodies trying to preserve themselves long enough to meet again. with a labored sigh, jungwon slumps backwards and tucks his chin to catch your gaze. in that moment, he finds himself frozen; his essence is suspended motionless, positively bewitched by you. in the silence, where all he can sense is you, jungwon embraces the ever-present warmth that has flourished within him. it floods his being with a terrifyingly powerful adoration for you. it is nothing like he has ever felt before, and though he is brave enough to confess, this extent of his love for you—it scares him.

however, as your skin glows in the light of the moon and your eyes pool with the desire for a future with him, jungwon digs his feet in and roots your love deep within his heart. he refuses to let this fear grow in its place; instead, he vows to nurture it, to care for it, to protect it. as he lies in your arms, jungwon rejects the sublime once more and chooses for himself.

"i love you, [y/n]," he whispers into your palm.

the world seems to go quiet as it listens for your response.

"i love you, too, jungwon."

#enhypen fluff #enha fluff #jungwon fluff #enhypen headcanons #; — cass writes: jungwon #enhypen #jungwon headcanons #jungwon imagines #jungwon reactions #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha angst #enhypen angst #enha x reader #jungwon x reader

[fernandoswarcrimes]

Midnights (3am Edition)

- *start track*

Lavender Haze - Neymar Jr

Maroon - Pierre Gasly

Anti-Hero - Matthew Tkachuk

Snow On The Beach - Trevor Zegras

You’re On Your Own, Kid - Luca Fantilli

Midnight Rain - Christian Pulisic

Question…? - Mark Estapa

Vigilante Shit - Lewis Hamilton

Bejeweled - Pierre Gasly

Labyrinth - Mason Mount

Karma - Max Verstappen

Sweet Nothing - Jack Grealish

Mastermind - Sebastian Vettel (Redbull Era)

The Great War - Jack Hughes

Paris - Lewis Hamilton

High Infidelity - Ben Chilwell

Glitch - Jamie Drysdale

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve - Tyler Seguin

Dear Reader - Ethan Edwards

Hits Different - Charles Leclerc

You’re Losing Me - Carlos Sainz

- *stop track*

Sleepless nights = a mix of heartbreak, revenge, finding new love & a bit of self discovery.

(Some will be stand alones and some are 2-3 parters to different songs that tell different sides of the story.)

To be tagged click here -> 🌌

Enjoy✨🩵

© 2023 all rights to original content reserved - fernandoswarcrimes Do not modify, plagiarize, or claim my work as your own.

#midnightsseries #imagine #masterlist #series #midnights song drabbles #neymar jr imagine #pierre gasly imagine #matthew tkachuk imagine #trevor zegras imagine #Ethan Edwards imagine #christian pulisic imagine #mark estapa imagine #tom wilson imagine #mason mount imagine #max verstappen imagine #sebastian vettel imagine #jack grealish imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #ben chilwell imagine #jamie drysdale imagine #tyler seguin imagine #luca fantilli imagine #charles leclerc imagine #carlos sainz imagine

[undercoverpena]

midnight strikes, where is my prince?

frankie morales x reader

summary: he had been your neighbour. a man you'd stare at through blinds when he’d been on the front lawn. a man you’re now staring at through splintered shards of your mirror—because he saved you.

wordcount: <1k words warnings: happy Drabble Sunday—this week, ANGST 😂. there’s mentions of a break-in. frankie is there and he has a gun, so you know we’re okay. angst. inspired by a scene from scandal-if you know, you know (written on phone so apologies for spellings)

The clock by your bedside shows three minutes past twelve, marking another Saturday night in. One hand cradling your phone and the other reaching out to the cool embrace of the sheets.

You can almost feel the warmth they should hold, the gentle caress against skin that's missing. That promised to be back earlier—but earlier had been hours ago.

Now you’re alone, nestled in bed, having surrendered to its comfort for the past couple of hours.

No bustling club scene with sticky floors or the mingling scents of sweat and cologne as you attempt to order a Coke with ice at the bar. Instead, there's a quiet tranquillity, a peacefulness in the simplicity of your evening spent in restful solitude.

Or, there was.

Your back ripped up from the bedsheets at the first sound of glass shattering; something, in a room that isn’t this one, knocked over, crashing against tile or floorboards. Spilling—making a mess.

Then, there are footsteps. Loud—unashamed in their recklessness as they make their way through your home. The gait not matching what you’d expect, the sound nothing like one you listen out for with giddiness and a grin.

These sound like heavy boots. Not trainers or cowboy boots. Mind scrambling, searching for the things you've been told, taught—all just in case's and likely non-eventualities.

Nothing coming with ease, not as you imagine they're leaving invisible trails in whatever mess they’re making. Purpose-driven for what they're seeking, from the way you can hear them nearing—a quest for something specific, significant.

Slipping out of bed, your hand trembles as you slide the lock on your bedroom door. Standing there, bare feet planted on the cool wooden floor.

Panicked. Lost.

Uncertain of your next move or what it should be, courage dwindling. More small, helpless, than you’ve ever felt before—two things you cannot be if you have any hope of surviving this, making it through this, them.

Because you suspect they know you’re here now.

The lock turn had been loud. A click that had punctured through silence, fragmenting it, forcing attention to the door at the end of the hallway in the house they were moving through.

The one they chose deliberately.

Likely spotted that there was no vehicle on the drive—no light on. A home hand-picked for intrusion, likely assuming emptiness, all set to fill it with fear and loss.

Phone, you think. Moving, hand fumbling through the sheets, searching desperately for your phone until it finally rests in your palm. It emanates warmth, a comforting reminder of the aimless scrolling you had been immersed in before, as you unlock the screen with a hopeful swipe.

There's one number you think of. One.

As you dig for it, nervousness thrums you as though it’s been plucked like a string. It vibrating, chiming against bone, creating a song full of fear that’s made worse by the try of the handle—metal grating in their attempt.

Eyes focused on it.

It illuminated, catching a sliver of light from a nearby street lamp. You briefly admire its intricate details, unable to tear your gaze away, even as your chest tightens and pulse quickens with the realisation of their attempts to enter, pick, and force their way in.

It's too late when you become aware of the breeze of something moving past you.

A scream grows to escape, but a hand slides around your mouth—thumb over your nose, the noise buried and muffled against a palm.

Until your head turns. Landing on eyes that make you relax, make you calm. Brown, framed by loose curls and usually a smile.

“Shh, it’s me.”

He's here, close.

All pressed to you, hand remaining a cover to your panicked breaths—as the scent of him, all wooden, familiar, swarms you. It makes your heart hammer a fraction less; it makes your fingers grasp his thigh when he holds up a gun—his gun. The jeans are rough, worn, the pair so familiar to your palm as you ground yourself and seek stability.

You whimper his name, it muffled against his skin—each letter of it sketched across his hand.

It’s then the door splinters.

A set of things happening, one after the other. All seen through wide eyes and panicked breaths, a scream there, but never greeting the air as he releases you, shoves and moves you away.

It's a flurry, a rush, the person entering and then there being a struggle, things falling as your back meets the wallpapered wall, still cautious not to rip it, to make a mark—remembering what a fucker it was to hang.

You jolt at a thud.

It followed by silence, horrible, room-swallowing silence.

You should blink. Close your eyes. Turn away from it. The mess of crimson and the empty, open-eyed stare looking up at you—but you can’t. Compelled to hold it, watching the light fade as your ears ring, a persistent noise that refuses to fade, even when he stands before you, dominating your vision.

It doesn't quiet until Frankie says your name, a hand on your cheek, speaking it with urgency, all sharp letters, followed by: “Wait here, querida. Okay?”

And you do.

Arms gripping your waist, nails digging—hindering the shaking, desperate to force the falling apart to slow. To halt, as much as you can, the pieces of you fracturing from within as they crumble like pillars, falling to the floor of you in dusty chaos that brings only instability.

Thread by thread you undo, delicate fragments of your being splintering and dispersing within, falling like fragile petals, drifting to the depths of your core in a silent ballet of disintegration.

A soft, fading melody of dissolution plays, leaving behind a gentle dust of memories.

Of him. Frankie.

How once, a long time ago, he'd been just a neighbour. A man you'd stare at through blinds when he’d been on the front lawn. One who made you laugh at the mailbox.

Now, he's a man you’re staring at through splintered shards of your mirror—one you're in love with. One who had saved you.

"We should go," he suggests, breaking the silence with a gentle tone. Adding something akin to not safe.

His words don’t absolve it, not prompting your arms to release from your waist. A part of you, distant and desperate for control, somewhat fearing whether your knees will buckle if you let go.

If you slowly pry finger by finger whether you'll shatter, break—

"Hey, it's okay..."

Your mouth hangs open. Anger rising, balling up and clog in your throat as fingers grasp and crumple his shirt until it's a tight ball in your hands. Horrible, bone-wracking cries washing through you—like you’re being drowned—all uncontrollable as you attempt to mouth the word, "Why?"

But you know, just as his wide-brown eyes do.

Colombia.

Colombia had followed him home.

an: I can’t say a gift as that is mean, but @joelsgreenflannel likes angst and so here. 😂

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

[chasingmidnights]

The T. Swift Project

Title: Question...?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI! Again, I think the only thing to look out for is some angst and I'll throw a warning on here for Bucky Barnes, him being a heartbreaker and such. I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read.

It was a gloomy rainy day, so you sat curled up on your bay window seat.

You enjoyed your coffee as you sat there and wrote in your journal, your cat Alpine at your feet.

You sat there thinking about how things had recently ended between you and Bucky Barnes.

He was a Brooklyn sad boy but there was just something about him.

It was almost cliche, a good girl with a sad boy.

Your time together consisted of nothing but a big city with wrong choices, one thing after another and miscommunications.

You wrote with great vigor as the memories flooded back into your mind.

After a few months of being together, you couldn't remember who you were as he painted all of your nights. A color you'd been searching for since.

You were about to continue to write when Alpine demanded some attention. You reached over and gave her some scratches before going back to your journaling.

You wrote down how you wanted some explanations and how you had a few questions for him.

A part of you had always thought this was too good to be true and you had always been a bit naive.

You wondered if the time you two shared together meant anything to him, you guess you should've listened to your friends.

All you wanted was maybe a conversation or two. You wanted to know if he meant to drag you along for so long.

Did he mean to leave you the way he did? So suddenly. It's just a question.

You couldn't help but wonder if he still thought about you, even though he was with her.

You wanted to ask him he wished he had fought harder for you or if he was completely happy with her now.

You still wanted some explanations from him but you know you'll never get them.

All of these questions will probably never get an answer but there's no harm in writing them down. But you still wanted to ask them, maybe one day.

It's just a question.

#the t. swift project #taylor swift songs #midnights era #midnights till dawn edition #midnights taylor swift #question...? #taylor swift #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #marvel characters #buck barnes #bucky barnes moodboard #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #chasingmarvel original work #chasingmarvel moodboards #courtney writes #courtney creates

[luvfy0dor]

"You Are In Love!!" - BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Chuuya Nakahara ♡

Warnings; none pure fluff and sweetness

Description; Drabbles (I actively attempted to make these shorter than the timeless ones but I clearly have a yapping issue) of Chuuya and Fyodor based off of You Are in Love by Taylor Swift in honor of 1989 (Taylor's Version) today. This one had a lot of cute little prompts for small scenarios so I thought I'd take the opportunity.

A/n; yawning is contagious you guys I proved it because I wrote about yawning and then I yawned, also I have so many 1989 TV thoughts now so im gonna write them while writing asks at the same time, so im sorry for those of you guys who dont like Taylor, that's totally valid. Hmu w/ music themed requests if you wanna see a different song.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ੈ♡

“Coffee at midnight”

You sat on your boyfriends lap, facing him while he typed away, working on God knows what. You didn't ask what it was at that very moment, too sleepy care. You breathed in his scent, your arms tightly hugged around his torso. Any time he took a break from typing, his left hand immediately went to stroke your back, his lips moving and ghosts of whispers slip out from between them as he read over the text. You nuzzled into his neck, pressing sweet, chaste kisses to his pale skin every now and again.

You were playing with his hair softly when you could hear him yawn. "My dear, do you mind getting up? I'm going to make some coffee for myself." He murmurs, his head turned a bit in your direction. You nod and get off of his lap, standing up and rubbing your eyes a bit. "Yeah, sure, but coffee? It's midnight.." now you were yawning. He nods, standing up and heading straight for the kitchen. You trail behind him, drowsily following along. Luckily, the lights of your kitchen were dimmed rather than being at full brightness. He stood against the counter, starting the coffee machine and grabbing a mug for himself while the drink started to brew.

"Do you want some too?" He asks, noticing your stare before you yourself even could. You shook your head, holding your upper arms for the warmth that Fyodors body had previously been providing to you. You yawned again, making him smile ever so slightly in amusement. You leaned against the counter with your eyes closed, almost starting to nod off. The two minutes it took to make the coffee passed within the blink of an eye, you being woken from your sleepy and dazed state by Fyodors thumb caressing your cheekbone.

"Moya Lyubov, you don't have to stay up with me. I appreciate it, but if you're tired you should sleep." He softly murmurs while looking into your eyes. "No, no, it's fine, don't worry." You say, standing straight up and walking with him back to his little work space. He sat right back down on the chair, opening his arms for you to crawl right back onto him. He sipped on his coffee, and the aroma made you regret your decision to reject a cup for yourself. You moved your head to rest on his shoulder sideways instead of upright so you could get a better look at him while he drank from the ceramic mug.

He glanced at you while he did so, sighing into the glass and handing it to you without even needing to hear anything from your mouth; he just knew you that well. Perhaps it was your predictably, or maybe it was his attentive habits regarding your body language and every expression. You took the mug, bringing it to your lips and drinking a small amount, making sure that you didn't chug it and leave nothing for him. You handed him back the glass, wiping your top lip off before you pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him smile a bit.

"So much for not wanting any, hm?" He teases quietly, leaning his head against yours. You just roll your eyes at him. "Well I changed my mind a little." You mumbled, your hands rubbing up and down his sides gently. Your eyelids felt as if they had weights attached to them as it became harder to keep yourself awake. Fyodor had taken notice of this numerous times, before getting coffee, while getting coffee, and even after you had taken a sip. If the caffeine had any effect on you it clearly was not immediate.

"That's alright, I don't mind sharing it with you." He says quietly. You hum in response as a thank you while you drifted off into a calming sleep. Fyodor noticed you fully knocked out after about a minute or two. He smiled and kissed the side of your head, whispering to you. "Goodnight, my love, sleep well."

Chuuya Nakahara ੈ♡

“You kiss on sidewalks”

You looked up at the stars in the night sky while you walked down the streets of Yokohama with Chuuya. Late night walks were never something you found enjoyment in before Chuuyas presence in your life. Not only did Chuuyas ability and profession absolutely make you feel safer, but he was someone to talk to while you walked. It wasn't silent, but filled with conversation about your day, passions, etc.

His hand was holding yours while he listened to you rambled on about a book you had started reading, explaining the plot to him. Chuuya wasn't an absent listener, he didn't just nod and "ohhh" every now and again, he actually asked questions about it and commented on the actions of characters and what not. Chuuya didn't ramble much, but when he did you offered the same undivided attention. You loved watching his eyes light up whenever he talked about something that excited him; he specifically got riled up about his missions, explaining what he did with as much detail as he was allowed to.

And that's what was happening. You walked along the path, holding your boyfriends hand while he told you about how he acquired a new small cut on his cheek. You asked him about it and he got so worked up, it was almost funny. The amount of slandering he put on the name of some random guy he had to fight was a little much, but it was his opponent and enemy, so you didn't comment on it. His other hand was moving around very quickly while he passionately told you about the encounter, annunciating every word and speaking clearly.

"He was so annoying. Obviously I dealt with him real fast, but now I've got this cut on my face." He says while rolling his eyes. You snicker a little. "Oh yeah, I totally get that. He sounds like he sucks, but I think the scar is kinda hot, to be honest." You laugh, standing in front of him and brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He scoffs and places his hands on your arms. "Ofcourse you do, doll, you're...well, you're you." He says, rubbing your shoulders a bit.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Your eyebrows were furrowed as you stare him down. "I know you like the back of my hand, I knew you'd find somethin' like that attractive. It's like, your thing." He says, the street light you stood under casting a yellow glow overtop the two of you. The shadows that projected onto his skin because of the angle hid the blush on his face relatively well. "I pay attention to you, ya know.." he murmurs, making you grin and gently cup his face.

"Oh I know you pay attention to me; everytime you bring up some random small detail about me it makes my heart flutter." You say, looking down at his lips through the black veil of darkness on his face. "I'm glad I can make ya swoon, darlin'.." he mutters, both of you leaning into each other, your hands interlocked and giving each other soft squeezes as your lips gently collided with one another. You pulled away after a couple seconds, but you felt yourself pulled right back in as the two of you softly giggled with one another, his gloved hand pressed against the back of your neck.

Your lips moved against his, soft hums of approval coming from his throat. When you did finally part, the both of you looked into the other's eyes for a second before breaking the stare and grinning. "I love you a whole lot, y'know?" He says, sliding his arm around your waist. You did the same and nodded. "I know, I know. I love you a whole lot, too." You say, kissing his cheek while the two of you walk home to retreat for the night.

A/n; I have a couple of things to say; 1- this is not a theme switch, it's only blue and white for 1989 TV, 2- I know these aren't the most obviously related to the song, but I felt inspired. 3- I was gonna do more characters for this but I don't wanna in this moment, would y'all wanna see that?

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fanfic #fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #chuuya #bsd chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bad headcanons #bsd x gender neutral reader #taylor swift #you are in love #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #inspired

[whlfchn]

18+ rating! minors do not interact!

wc: 1.4k genre: no plot just smut! very long drabble?! warnings: fem!reader, some teasing, dry humping, very little nipple play, praising, profanity, dirty talk, unprotected sex, soft!dom chan authors note: this is a rewrite and reupload of my first ever bang chan fic I uploaded months ago on my old blog! no plot just smut! I wrote a lot more than I intended lol!

[ Midnight ] The sound of movement and heavy breathing bounced off the walls of the dark and chilly studio. A soft glow emanated from the now neglected laptop.  

Chills run down your spine and your senses heightened as the feel of Chan’s touch engulfs you. 

"Babygirl, I should be working right now," he murmured as you left soft kisses on his neck. Your body is straddling his lap on the soft black leather couch. 

Your hands pull on his curly hair just the way he likes. His hands caressing your thighs and slowly making their way up to grab at the clothed skin that's rocking back and forth against his hard length that is straining against his pants.

“I have a lot of songs I need to work on,” he grunts. His voice is raspy and demanding. Slowly losing control and focus as his hands guide your ass to grind harder against his lap.

“Please… I need to feel you inside me,” you cried out. A hand raked through his hair and tugged on the curls as your other hand is tracing the outline of his plump bottom lip that was trapped in between his teeth. Pulling on the flesh and freeing them. Finally pushed over the edge, he lost control and forgot all about the unfinished work on his laptop.

“Always so needy,” he teases. Lightly slapping your hand away from his lips to bring his fingers against yours. Tracing your lips just as you did with his.

 Shoving two fingers inside your mouth. You immediately suck and tease while looking into his eyes. Wishing it was more than just those long veiny fingers.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth. Latching his lips onto your neck and sucking the soft supple flesh. Proceeding to bite those same marks. Then licking it to soothe the skin before latching onto another spot and showing the same intoxicating pain that you loved so much.

Your breath hitches and you bite your lip harshly trying to suppress your moans from any passers-by in the building. All the nerves in your body are lighting like a fire. Feeling his hard length underneath, you couldn't take it anymore.

You pulled on his hair, causing him to detach from your neck, and in a split second, you slammed your lips on his. Teeth clicking and tongues swirling. His erection is even more prominent than before. It was all too much for him.

He never loved anyone the way he loves you. You took care of him, had a lot of patience, listened to him, and loved him for him. You drove him crazy both emotionally and physically. You were his drug.

He placed his hands on your thighs and gave a light squeeze silently telling you to hold on. In one swift movement, he picked you up and flipped you so you were laying down on the couch beneath him.

He hovers above you slamming his lips back onto yours. One hand next to your head holding himself up as the other grabs your thigh and wraps it around his waist. His hips grinding and pounding against your wet clothed core. 

“God, you're so beautiful,” he whispers in between kisses.

His hand on your thigh caresses the soft skin as it gets closer to your waist. His fingers play with the waistband of your shorts while devouring your mouth in a kiss. Your whines allow him to slip his tongue further down your throat. Winning the dominance over you. 

Long fingers slide inside the waistband of your shorts and panties. His fingers enter you within an instant. Your moans are suppressed by the lip play. 

You instantly squeeze around his fingers making his head spin. He grunts into the kiss and starts pumping in and out of you. Adding another finger. Stretching you out and getting you ready for him.

Your cold fingers make their way under his shirt. His warm body shudders at the contact. Your hand tugging on the fabric wanting him to take it off. 

He takes his fingers out of you causing you to whine at the loss of contact. He takes his shirt off and throws it to the side.

You lift your upper body and cross your arms taking off your shirt. As soon as it's off, he pushes you back down and his lips find yours. 

His lips trail away from yours and slowly make their way down. His lips find their way to your bra. Biting and tugging the material. Cold fingers caressing your body causing you to shudder and arch your back. One hand slipping behind your back and taking off your bra with ease.

His tongue making its way to your hardened peak. Swirling and sucking with such hunger. A hand rubbing and twisting the other. Moans leaving your lips like music to his ears. His priority is to make you feel good and show you just how much you mean to him. That only he could do this to you. Only his name could leave those beautiful lips. And only he could see and touch you like this.

He pulls away and starts kissing further down your body getting closer to your waistband. He pushes your shorts and panties down leaving you completely naked.

Seeing you like this was torture for him. His erection was almost painful now. Wanting to take his time with you and show you his love, but also wanting to fuck you senseless.

Shoving your legs further open with his knee so he could get a better look at your aching core.

“Fuck, baby. You're so wet,” he says as he takes his fingers sliding up and down your folds.

“I'm going to fucking ruin you,” he mutters.

He stands up as you watch his every move, eyes never leaving his form. He smirks and slowly pulls down his pants and boxers. His hard length was in plain sight making your mouth water.

“Don't tease me,” you whined and pouted.

“Patience baby. Be a good girl for me.” he teased while getting on top of you.

Lips finding yours. He sucks your bottom lip and rolls your tongues together as he spreads your legs even further apart.

“Ready baby?” he whispers.

“Yes. Please give it to me?” you murmur.

With your confirmation, he quickly thrusts into you. Loud moans leave both of your lips. Squeezing on his length as your back arches and you adjust to his size.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good,” he grunts.

He slowly pumps in and out of you. His thrusts get faster and faster. The erotic sounds of smacking flesh fill the room, drowning out the moans that are leaving your lips. Hearing the sweet sounds you make encourages him to fuck you even harder and faster. 

“You're doing so well baby,” he says before nuzzling his face into your neck as he fucks you senseless. Leaving soft kisses along your jawline.

Lifting himself upwards as he puts your legs on his shoulder so he can pound into you even harder while taking one hand to your clit and rubbing it at a fiery speed.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you bite your lips very hard to suppress your moans. In an instant, Chan notices and slows down the pace.

“Is this okay? You like that?” 

“Fu-fuck… yes… so much… don't stop,” you managed to say as you made eye contact with him.

“Good girl,”

He speeds his movements back up, grunting at how perfect you feel.

“Fa-faster,” you stutter, gripping the couch.

“Yes… Right there,”

His fingers attack your clit faster and faster. You feel your walls fluttering against his length. Your eyes roll back, and your hips shake. Your walls spasm and contract. Chan quickly covers your mouth with his hand silencing the loud moan leaving your mouth as you release.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him pushes him to the edge. He quickly takes your legs off his shoulders going back to missionary pounding into you even faster. Kissing you to quiet your whimpers and moans. Your core is overstimulated and not yet recovered from your orgasm. His thrusts get sloppier.

“Fu-Fuck,” he mutters into the crook of your neck as he empties himself into you. 

Shockwaves grip your body from the overstimulation. Chan stills his body and pants while on top of you. Rubbing circles on his back and kissing his cheek as he comes down from his high.

“I love you,” he whispers as he turns his head to look at you. Engraving every little detail about your face into his mind.

“I love you too,” you say before entrapping him in a blissful and passionate kiss.

disclaimer: my writing is intended for entertainment and does not represent any real person! the names are used for purely fictional purposes!

please reblog and leave a like! feedback is greatly appreciated and it motivates me to write more! I read it all and am so thankful for each of you!

~ masterlist ~

#bang chan drabbles #bang chan #bang chan smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz imagines #skz scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

[dancingwithreality]

a dream p.g.10

gif not mine!

parings: pierre gasly x fem!reader ; friends to lovers

word count: 3.9k

summary: a drabble on pierre’s unrelenting feelings for you, what started as a childhood crush turned into full fledged love and it was eating him alive.

a/n: for context purposes, pierre isn’t with kika (duh) and the fia dropped those penalties 11pm in austria just so the scene makes sense. started writing this before silverstone so we’re going into our own little world with this. will make other parts if people like it enough

please do not take my work! enjoy and interact!

AUSTRIA WAS OVER, finally, and the weekend proved to be more than eventful. For your best friend, the results were just what he needed. Ferrari made some additions to their car and Charles was finally to get back on the podium. Unfortunately for your other best friend it wasn’t perfect. 

‘Tenth isn’t bad, you’re still in points,’ you remind Pierre as you perfect your makeup and touch up your hair in the mirror.

‘A point,’ he stresses. ‘One singular point, I’m still 15 points behind Esteban,’ he slouches further into the arm chair he’s occupying. His hair is a mess from how many times his hands run through it, his white linen shirt only getting more wrinkled and he decompresses in your hotel room.

Walking past him to your suitcase, you reach for the only pair of heels you brought, and slip them on. The thin white straps perfectly matched the white silk dress you decided on. ‘There will be more races, the gap will close. Besides, tonight we can get drunk and celebrate Charles, forget about your sour mood until the morning.’ You stand up and walk over to him, hands reached out. He placed his hands in yours and allowed you to pull him up begrudgingly. 

Standing at now an almost equal height, you mess with his hair to try and make him look more presentable. Pierre keeps that far off look in his eyes while he stares down at you. There’s something behind his eyes you cant quite place but you chop it up to being unpleased with todays results. 

‘You look more presentable now, lets go,’ you grab your purse and keep one hand wrapped around his while you exit the hotel room. You meet up with Charles in the elevator and give him another congratulatory hug before making your way to whatever club everyone wanted to go to tonight.

••• 

Drinks were flowing, moral was taking multiple hits, and you were out of your mind drunk dancing with Lando off the side of the dance floor. It was roughly midnight now, and someone had gotten the memo of the twelve penalties given out and told everyone. You can’t remember exactly who got the information, but it spread quickly throughout the group. As formally mentioned, Lando was having the night of his life. He benefitted from all of it and moved up to fourth so he decided he was going out in style tonight.

Poor Esteban was at the corner of the bar slowly nursing his drink while he was grieving the news. Lewis had left to facetime Roscoe, thinking it could make him feel better. Carlos, already in an off mood since breaking it off with Isa, was singing some of the most depressing Spanish songs you’d heard, his back against the booth while Charles watched over him. 

Pierre’s mood hadn’t changed, he was still sulking but this time it was Charles’ problem. He watched you have fun with Lando, wishing it was one of those nights where your happiness rubbed off on him. Charles could almost smell the desperation flowing off of him as he watched you as well. He turned his head and faced Pierre, he knew that look. 

Charles released a quick breath, ‘You know, we’ve known each other a long time, we’re getting too old for this mate,’ he took a quick sip of his drink and pointed his eyes at Pierre.

Pierre turned his head to face Charles, ‘Yeah..’ he didn’t know where Charles was going with this. 

‘Some things can’t be bottled up forever, feelings, secrets..’ he pushed further.

‘Okay..?’ he still didn’t understand.

‘Secretly pinning over your friend you’re in love with, is kinda tiring,’ Charles sighed.

‘Look mate, I love you but not like that,’ Pierre scooted a few inches further from him. 

‘Merde,’ Charles rubbed his face, ‘you love her.’ 

‘What? I’ve known her for years, she’s my best friend,’ he said with a little extra stress on the friend.

‘Ah, but you knew I was talking about her.’ Charles eyes dart over to you, still dancing with Lando. Your head was knocked back in laughter, he must of said something, because while you laughed Lando’s face was pink and he had a shy smile.

‘Charles,’ Pierre started but got quickly interrupted.

‘You can’t lie to me, I know you too well. I know what’s in your head.’ Charles wrapped his knuckles lightly over the side of Pierre’s head. 

His hand was quickly shooed away. ‘ You’re not a guru mate, relax.’ The Frenchman reached for his drink again and took a lengthy sip. ‘She’s my best friend, I can’t lose her if it doesn’t work out. Things are perfect as they are.’

‘Are they? You’ve never held a solid relationship and follow her like a lost puppy. You’ll never know unless you actually make a move.’

‘And if she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?’

‘She won’t. You know she’s not like that, she loves you too much.’ The two men shared a long look as Pierre let his gaze fall back to you, Charles let out a deep sigh went back to babysitting Carlos.

•••

Maybe two hours had passed and Pierre was dragging you back to the hotel. You all had a flight around midday, and he knew you would prefer if you weren’t drunk during it. You’d bid goodbye to both Charles and Carlos an hour ago when they left before you, Charles leaving with a pat on Pierre’s back and a silent look.

Now it was just the two of you, long time best friends walking back to your room. Your shoes had been long discarded as they only got harder to walk in. Pierre was holding them in his hands while you rested against his back. As soon as you’d left the club you begged him to carry you, the dancing had tired you out too much, you said.

Knowing how chivalrous he was, and how he could never say no when you looked at him like that, he let you hop on his back and he carried you to bed. From the street, to the lobby, to the elevator, and back up in your room, he absorbed the feeling of you. Your arms around his neck and your soft breath tickling him as you quietly sang all your favorite ABBA songs, the warmth of your chest on his back and the soft skin of your legs. He let himself dream, just this once, and dive into a world in his mind where you were his. Where touches like these happened freely and more occurring.

But that’s exactly what it was. A dream. That’s all he would let it be. If you put both on a scale, his intensely deep love for you would be outweighed by his desperate need to keep you as his friend. Regardless of how Charles’ words echoed through his mind he couldn’t act on it. He knew that reality well.

‘Chérie, I need you to open the door now,’ He readjusted his hold on you and leaned down a bit further so you could put your key card in. Your hair tickling his neck as you reached forward to open the door sent a shock wave through his system. Walking through the doorway he cleared his throat as he sets you down.

The feeling of your hands sliding down his back as you let go made the hairs on his neck stand up. It always got harder to focus when you were near, even so when you made any physical contact. Pierre sets your heels down next to your suitcase as you suddenly start stripping out of your dress and into your pajamas, getting ready for bed.

If his face wasn’t bright red before it was now, as he whipped right around to give you some privacy and try to maintain his dignity.

‘Thank you so much for carrying me back,’ you call out to him as you slip your dress off.

‘O-Of course chérie,’ he fidgets in place as he keeps his back turned.

Still inebriated you giggle at his stutter, ‘You’re such a good friend,’ his heart aches at the word. ‘Can’t believe you took care of little drunk me instead of finding some girl and taking care of her,’ you giggled suggestively and slipped a t-shirt (that may or may not be Pierre’s) on over your head.

‘And leave my favorite girl all alone? Never,’ He was glad you couldn’t see him at the moment. His face would’ve betrayed him if his voice didn’t already, leave you by yourself? Choose another girl over you? The idea was so foreign to him.

‘I’ve tamed the playboy! Quick, call the press!’ You laugh as you fall backwards on your bed, now fully clothed. He turned around and chuckled with you. Pierre crossed over to your side of the bed and goes to tuck you in. Seeing you nestle into the covers only made him adore you more.

When you’re settled in, he places a long kiss to your hairline, pulling away and pushing the strands out of your face, ‘Sweet dreams amour,’ he whispered so quiet not even a mouse could hear.

‘I love you Pear, never change,’ you mutter into your pillow.

All he can do is smile as he turns the lights off and leaves your room. As soon as it’s closed his head hits the door, ‘I love you more than you could imagine.’

He says it like a prayer in the night, to himself, for his ears only, but he has to say it.

•••

The jet was due to take off anytime soon, as it sat on the runway waiting for it’s last passenger.

‘You’re late,’ Charles tsks as you sit down next to Pierre and lean your head against the wall.

‘Calm your tits, you’ll make it in time for the next race.’ You groaned, adjusting your giant black sunglasses to filter out more light.

‘Rough night?’ Pierre asks as he tips the bill of your cap upwards, exposing more of your face.

‘I don’t want to drink ever again,’ you shuffled to lay your back against his side and kicked your feet up to the edge of the bench.

‘Where have I heard that before,’ Charles comments, at that you pull one of your slides off and throw it at him with surprising accuracy. ‘Ouch, okay miss grumpy I’ll leave you alone.’

He sticks his tongue out at you now that you can’t see him. The trip was going to long with you like this if you didn’t get some coffee in you to sober up. You knew this, and the boys knew it even more than you since having to deal with your hangovers for years. 

So, adjusting your position against him you, Pierre holds your weight with one arm while holding his cup of coffee to your lips. ‘Here, have a sip.’ He angled the cup upwards and watched as you took a little more than a sip of his coffee.

‘Ugh, thanks Pierre. You’re always so sweet to me,’ you reach up and pat the side of his face before falling back into your comfortable position against him. ‘Unlike someone,’ you let your glasses fall down a little bit so Charles can see the look you send him.

‘Yeah well one of us isn’t in love with you,’ he muttered into his own coffee, not intending for anyone to hear.

‘You say something Cha?’ you piped up from your spot.

‘No he didn’t, he’s just being annoying because he can’t let anything be.’ Pierre wraps an arm around your resting frame and gives Charles a look that would definitely kill him if he and the Frenchman were in a more private space. 

•••

Free practice is in a day and Pierre is restless. He runs through the track in his mind, memorizing the corners he could overtake and making a play-by-play of the best way he can preform. He also has an itch that's been begging to be scratched in a while. Being hopelessly in love with your best friend makes it really hard to have any kind of love life.

If he finds a girl he likes, which is rare, its either only for a night or he constantly compares her to you in his mind, and no one deserves that. With that in mind, it means most of his romantic adventures last for a night before he can feel guilty about being with someone else, even if he isn’t with you. Or he spends the nights alone.

But he still does it. He goes out every night, finds a girl, and goes back to her place. Bringing her back to his hotel room where you are so close, his hotel room that you spend most of your time in, it felt vile and disgraceful. He always goes back to her place, trying to have a good night without thinking of you. Closing his eyes and trying to erase you from his thoughts. 

As he walked back in shame to his hotel room, he could hear your laughter echoing from your door. Some cruel twist of fate always puts your hotel rooms close together and it makes him feel worse. Pierre couldn’t take the sick feeling he got when he realized what he just did and he jumps into the shower immediately. Scrubbing and scrubbing to get the feeling off of him. Using the hottest water possible to burn the feeling off his skin.

Pierre wraps a towel around his waist once he’s out and he sees a new message from you. You were inviting him over to watch a movie together when he was done and he just couldn’t say no. He slips his pajamas on and goes next door to yours. 

He knows you’ll sit cuddled together on your bed while whatever movie you’ve picked plays on the tv. He knows you’ll end you falling asleep on his shoulder like you always do. He knows he’ll put the volume lower, so as to not wake you, and stay there with your death grip wrapped around him. He knows he’ll lay there dreaming of a life with you where it was like this every night. 

He really has it bad, doesn’t he?

•••

The three of you were walking to the garages, laughing and chatting on your way. You usually got distracted while on the way so Pierre’s hand was softly holding your elbow while he pulled you out of the way of trees, other people, trash cans, just about anything you would run into. 

This time, he hears someone progressively getting loader behind you. Out of curiosity Pierre turns around and sees someone running up but their head was turned. For whatever reason this person was in a rush they were positioned perfectly to barrel straight into you. With his super fast reflex his hands reached out to grab your waist and pull you into his chest, making sure you were safe.

‘Woah!’ you called out, surprised by the sudden movement shocked by the sudden proximity. Whoever it was that he saved you from blew past and yelled out a ‘Sorry!’. You’d all stopped walking and your hands were gripping the front of Pierre’s shirt. The way he was staring down at you and lightly laughing felt weird.

‘Alright, cherie?’ he pushed some hair out your face that was obstructing your view.

Were his eyes always this blue? Have you ever been this close to him before? Did he always smell like lemons and freshly washed linen? Were his hands always so warm on your skin? You could feel his fingertips on your hips and it made tingles shoot through you. You don’t remember his lips being that pink and soft looking. Actually, you don’t remember thinking about his lips before. You didn’t know why you were, still, thinking about his lips. Shaking yourself out of this daze, you cleared your throat and laughed. 

‘Yeah I’m, uh, alright. Thanks,’ You smoothed down your shirt and readjusted your shorts around your waist. When you look back up Pierre looks a little unconvinced but laughs it off as he keeps walking. As he passes you Charles fall right into view, and he look he’s giving you is smug. ‘What?’ you ask him. 

‘Nothing! Nothing at all,’ he shrugs and starts walking very slowly. ‘Someone got a little nervous for a second there.’ His shit-eating grin is wider than you’ve seen it before, and you’ve seen it a lot. 

‘No I didn’t!’ you were getting defensive now, which normally means you’re hiding something or afraid to admit you’re wrong. 

‘I dont know if I believe you,’ he says in a sing-song voice and you respond by shoving him. Now you’ve both stopped in your tracks and Charles was rubbing the side of his arm. ‘You’re the one who got lost in Pierre’s dreamy eyes in literal public.’

‘If you’re saying his eyes are dreamy I think we need to have another conversation, mate,’ Now you were just plain deflecting and you knew he could see right through it. 

‘Actually, if my ears don’t deceive me, you just called his eyes dreamy.’ If his grin got any wider you’d swore it would split his face in half. You turned forward and watched Pierre chat with someone who stopped him to say hi. While watching him you get lost in thoughts that felt brand new. 

Charles watched you watch Pierre and just raised his eyebrow and deadpanned. He could only shake his head and keep moving forward while pulling you behind him. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one with eyes in this friend group.

‘You guys coming or what?’ Pierre called from way ahead of you and waved his hand in a come here motion. You ran up to him and the second you got close enough he slotted you underneath his arm and kept chatting about as you two went over to the Alpine garage. Charles stood in his place and veered off to Ferrari as he watched you and Pierre from behind. You were slightly awkward now but trying to shake off whatever the weird feeling was plaguing you at the moment. Looks like Charles’ plan to get you two to admit your feelings for each other and get together didn’t need that much meddling from his part after all, fate was pushing you into his arms and oh, how Charles loved fate right now.

•••

You sat in hospitality while you waited for Pierre to finish his shower. You were scrolling on YouTube and found a video you wanted to watch, so you went to reach for your headphones when you realized they weren’t there. The only obvious place for you to have left them were in his room. Maybe you could just sneak in and grab them, and sneak out unnoticed. 

You creeped into his room and kept your head down. He was humming quietly to himself and you found yourself smiling at it, before blinking and getting back to the mission. Hand wrapped around them you went to exit just as quietly but you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye. His frame seemed to glow from behind the shower curtain, why was there light in there anyway?

You stared at his wide shoulders and watched the muscles move as he washed his hair. You stood there mesmerized watching his back move as he kept showering. His waist tapered and got smaller as your eyes travelled down his back, but his frame stayed strong. Before your eyes started going further down you shut them quickly. 

This time you rushed out of the room quickly and you sat with your back against the wall. You’d seen his back before. Plenty of times really. You’d know him since you were kids, you’d gone to the beach and gone swimming with him before. You swore you knew what he looked like. But you’d never seen him like that before, it felt different. You didn’t know what to even think anymore. From earlier this morning to now, you were confused.

Why did a Formula 1 driver even need those muscles? Doesn't it like, make him heavier and affect the drag or something? Since when did he have them anyway, 'Hey!' His voce dragged you out of your head. 'I'm almost ready, you got all your stuff?'

'Yeah, all good!' you gave a thumbs up even though he couldn't see you. Your head fell into your hands and you almost laughed in your own embarrassment. Nearly a second later Pierre opened the door and you fell backwards onto his chest.

'Woah there,' he laughed and held your shoulders, he leaned forward just ever so closer to your face. 'You're all over the place today, huh?'

'Apparently.' You shot back onto your own two feet trying to shake the feeling of his chest on your back out of your head. The entire walk to the car you were silent, just listening to Pierre voice his concerns and ideas about qualifying and the race. Then in the car you stayed silent as music flowed through the speakers and filled the silence.

What was wrong with you today? Why was this happening to you? Why can't you stop thinking about him and how his body felt against yours? His hands felt so large on your shoulders and his chest so solid when you leaned against it. And what was that this morning? You'd hugged Pierre before so why did it feel so different now. You'd felt him before, but this felt like you'd felt him. Your mind was racing the entire night so you texted Charles to see if you guys could talk once you got back.

And talk you did.

•••

'Hmm, yes,' Charles rubbed his chin after you just told him everything about earlier. 'I think I know what the problem is.'

'Okay?' You were really starting to question him after he sat in silence for five minutes.

‘You like him.’ He stated like it was so simple. He sat there with his arms crossed and that stupid look on his face.

You stared mouth agape, what drugs was he on. You? Like Pierre? Your best friend? No, no way, 'I highly doubt that Cha. It's probably just, pent up energy.'

'Then relieve it, maybe that'll being some clarity to the situation.'

'No! What are you on about? Mon dieu, Charles you're losing your mind.'

'If you knew what was actually wrong with you, why'd you come to me then?' Charles asked with his arms crossed.

'I think I just need to clear my head.' You got up and walked out, 'Thanks Cha, really.'

'You're welcome,' he mutters as you walk away. Why is he always being put in this position where he's stuck between two very stubborn people. 'Everybody asks Charles for help, but no one ever listens to Charles.' He slumps down and goes back to his book that was previously put down at your urgency.

•••

You'd been sat off the pools ledge, with your legs moving steadily. Why did things have to start changing? Why couldn't things stay the same? What were you supposed to do now?

It was getting late as you checked your watch so you decided to go back to your room. There were so many thoughts in your head you couldn't make a solid conclusion. You debated back and forth, to do or not to do. So there you stood, in front of the door, debating.

Before you get to decide, a familiar voice calls your name.

'Hi.'

fin

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x female reader #fem reader #self insert