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focusonkayjay · 12 days ago

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between the ride and the roses (12)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 8.4k+

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: protected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, so many emotions and feelings, jungkook is a SIMP

A/N: sorry for the late update. this is a longer chapter compared to the others to make up for it. hope you guys enjoy this part !! lmk your thoughts and stay tunedddd <3

part 12: high octane roses

Jungkook’s apartment feels warm and inviting, a reflection of him in every way. The dim lighting casts a golden glow across the room, highlighting the cozy furniture arranged in a way that makes the space feel so intimate.

You notice little details… a soft crocheted blanket draped over the couch, a small bookshelf lined with novels and motorcycle magazines, and a shelf filled with framed photographs.

You wander closer to the shelf, your curiosity piqued. The photos tell stories of a life filled with people he cares about. One picture shows him with his friends, all grinning wide, arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

Another captures a younger Jungkook with his family, his bunny-toothed smile as bright as ever. Then, there’s one of him as a child, maybe four or five, holding a tiny toy bike with a proud smile. You can’t help but smile as you take it all in… it’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and it only makes you fall for him a little more.

As you linger by the photos, Jungkook’s voice pulls you back. “You’re shivering.” he observes, his tone laced with concern. You hadn’t even realized how cold you were, the damp clothes sticking to your skin, amplifying the chill.

“Come on.” he says, taking you to his room as he opens his closet. “You can take a shower and warm up. I’ll grab you something to wear.” He pulls out a soft brown hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts, handing them to you with an easy smile. “You can use the bathroom here. I’ll shower in the other bathroom and throw your clothes in the dryer.”

You nod, clutching the clothes to your chest and watch him leave. As you’re left alone in his bedroom, you’re immediately struck by how personal and cozy the space feels. The room is modest, yet it exudes Jungkook’s personality.

A row of miniature bike models lines the nightstand, and a few posters of sleek motorcycles decorate the walls. There’s even a helmet perched on a shelf, along with some trinkets and scattered books. It feels like a sanctuary… simple, warm, and utterly him.

You take a moment to run your fingers over the nightstand, marveling at the intricate details of the bike models. But the cold clinging to you is insistent, so you quickly head to the adjoining bathroom to shower.

The warm water is a blessing, washing away the chill and the remnants of the rain. After drying off, you slip into Jungkook’s hoodie. It’s oversized, the soft fabric reaching down to the middle of your thighs. You glance at the shorts but decide against them thinking the hoodie covers enough, and the thought of wearing something that smells so much like him is oddly comforting.

Once dressed, you return to his room, taking another look around. You find yourself drawn to the small details… another shelf with neatly arranged books, a picture of him at some biking event, and a pair of worn boots tucked in the corner. Eventually, you settle on the edge of his bed, fingers absentmindedly tracing the soft fabric of his comforter as you wait for him.

The sound of a door opening down the hall alerts you, and moments later, the door to his room swings open.

Jungkook steps in, rubbing a towel through his damp hair, clearly not expecting you to be there already. Your eyes widen as you take him in... he’s shirtless, his toned abs, chest and tattooed arms on full display, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His joggers sit low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers teasingly peaking around his tiny waist.

“Oh.” he says, freezing mid-step when he notices you sitting on the bed. His wide eyes meet yours, and for a second, neither of you say anything. Then his gaze flicks down, taking in the sight of you in his oversized hoodie, your bare legs hanging by the frame of the bed, almost touching the floor.

He swallows hard, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Uh… I thought you were still in the shower.” he stammers, quickly running the towel over his hair again to mask his embarrassment.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile as your heart hammers in your chest. “I finished just a while ago.” you say softly.

For a moment, the room feels hot, the air thick with something unspoken as Jungkook stands there, towel in hand, while you sit on his bed, looking up at him. His gaze lingers on you, soft yet intense, and you can almost feel the weight of his thoughts.

The sight of you sitting on his bed right out of the shower, wearing his hoodie, your exposed legs, your damp hair… stirs something inside him. There’s a quiet allure in the way you’re looking at him, eyes wide and curious, a mix of shyness and comfort in your expression. It’s as if everything around him vanishes, leaving only you.

Before he can stop himself, the towel slips from his fingers, landing softly on the floor by the door. His feet move on their own as he crosses the room, his chest rising and falling with quiet breaths. He stops just in front of you, and without a word, he bends forward, his hands cupping your face as he leans in, placing his lips on yours.

The kiss is sudden but it's deep and consuming, a silent confession of everything he’s been holding back. His touch is firm but tender, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he angles your face closer to his.

Your fingers instinctively reach out, finding one of his wrists for support as you let yourself melt into him. The warmth of his lips against yours sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, it feels as though time has stopped.

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the way he tastes, the way he holds you as though you’re the most precious thing in the world. It’s slow and passionate, carrying the weight of many emotions, and you can feel his heart in every movement.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Jungkook gently pushes you back, guiding you until your head meets the soft comfort of the mattress beneath you.

His movements are firm, yet careful, as though he’s making sure you’re comfortable with every step. You feel the warmth of his body as he leans over you, and instinctively, your legs part to make room for him. He fits perfectly, settling between your thighs with an ease that feels natural, like he’s meant to be there.

The weight of him presses you deeper into the mattress, grounding you in the moment as his hips shift against yours, sending a shiver through your entire body. The kiss grows deeper, more consuming, as though the world outside his bedroom no longer exists.

His hands, once cradling your face so tenderly, slide down to your waist, gripping you firmly. His fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie draped over you, the slight pressure sending sparks along your skin. You can feel the unspoken desire in his touch, the way his hands hold you with a mix of reverence and longing, as though you’re something he never wants to let go of.

The intensity between you grows as his body presses closer, the heat radiating off him sinking into your skin. When his erection grazes against your core, a soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips, swallowed by the searing kiss. It only spurs him on, his fingers starting a slow, teasing journey along the curve of your thighs.

His touch is light at first, fingertips brushing the outside of your legs, igniting a trail of fire as they glide upward. When his hands slip beneath the hem of the oversized hoodie, the warmth of his palms against your bare skin makes your breath hitch. The delicate, tantalizing movements send a rush of electricity coursing through your body.

You arch into his touch, seeking more of him as his fingers ghost over the waistband of your underwear. Every motion is gentle, slow enough to drive you mad, yet filled with an aching desire. His hands finally settle on your hips, gripping them firmly, grounding you as the tension between you builds.

Jungkook lifts your hips slightly, a subtle yet intoxicating motion that aligns your bodies perfectly. His hardness presses against your core, and the friction sends a wave of pleasure rolling through you.

The motion is slow, his hips moving against yours, each shift of his body drawing a needy sound from your lips. The delicious pressure leaves you breathless, completely lost in the moment and the way he moves with you, as if nothing else in the world matters.

His lips pause against yours for just a moment, and when he pulls away, you’re met with the sight of his flushed face and eyes glazed with longing and desire.

But the moment is fleeting because he dives back in, his mouth capturing yours with renewed fervor. Each kiss is more urgent, each touch more electric, sending another wave of desire coursing through your veins.

It feels almost unreal, having him this close, feeling the intensity of his movements as if the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. His hips grind against yours with a growing urgency, the pressure making your toes curl.

You can feel his need, the way he wants you… heavy, consuming and undeniable. It fills the space between you, and you’re relieved, almost euphoric, to know you’re not the only one drowning in this feeling.

Your heartbeat thunders in your chest, matching the rhythm of his movements. Everything else fades away as he kisses you with a hunger that leaves you breathless, your body aching and trembling beneath him.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his lips red and swollen from the intensity. His fingers trail over your hips, before coming to rest on the hem of the hoodie you’re wearing. His eyes meet yours, dark and searching, silently asking for permission. When you nod, he pulls the hoodie over your head in one fluid motion.

The cool air kisses your bare skin, and you become acutely aware that you’re not wearing a bra. You’d left it in the bathroom, soaked from the rain, and now the vulnerability of the moment makes your cheeks flush. But any self-consciousness melts away when you see the way he looks at you.

Jungkook’s gaze roams over your body, his eyes taking in every curve and dip, lingering on your neck, collarbones, and chest. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, and he seems almost in awe, as if he can’t believe you’re real. His hands tremble slightly as they move to cup your face, and when he leans in to kiss you again, the tenderness in his touch contrasts beautifully with the raw desire in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful...” he whispers against your lips, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “So perfect.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel your heart swell at the sincerity in his tone. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression a mixture of reverence and need. “You have no idea…” he murmurs, his voice trailing off as his breathing grows heavier. “You have no idea how bad I need you right now.”

His confession hangs in the air, charged and intimate, as you feel the heat radiating between you. When his length twitches against your core, your breath hitches.

His hands move with care, cupping your breasts as his thumbs gently graze over your hardened nipples. The sensation is electric, a bolt of pleasure that draws a soft gasp from your lips. His touch is tender but stimulating, so new and intoxicating that it leaves you panting, your body alight with sensations that are almost overwhelming.

When his mouth replaces his hand, the warmth of his tongue swirling around one of your nipples, you can’t hold back the desperate moan that escapes you. His lips latch onto you, suckling gently but with enough fervor to send waves of heat through your body. Your back arches instinctively, pressing closer to him as your hands grasp at the sheets beneath you.

One of his hands moves to knead your other breast, his fingers working in perfect sync with the ministrations of his mouth. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your brows furrowing as you struggle to process the sheer intensity of it all.

His lips leave a trail of fire as they travel across your chest, ghosting over your sensitive skin and leaving you shivering in their wake. Slowly, he works his way up to the delicate curve of your neck, his movements unhurried, savoring every second as if he’s committing this moment to memory.

He nuzzles into the space just behind your ear, his breath warm and soft against your skin. When his lips press down, marking you with a burning gentleness, it feels both possessive and tender. The sensation sends a new wave of shivers down your spine, your body instinctively reacting to the intimacy of his touch.

Your chest rises and falls in sync with your labored breathing, the air thick with the tension between you. Every movement, every kiss, every graze of his fingers feels purposeful, like he’s pouring his soul into the way he touches you. His hands roam across your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of skin.

You’ve never felt anything like this before... the slow, deliberate buildup of desire, the way his lips and hands ignite every nerve ending. It’s intoxicating, consuming, and all encompassing. The press of his body against yours, the wet heat of his kisses, the weight of his presence... all of it has you teetering on the edge of control.

When his lips finally find yours again, the kiss is deep, languid, and brimming with desperation. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as if grounding yourself to him is the only way to stay tethered. His hips roll against yours again, and the pressure is so perfectly maddening that it pulls another moan from deep within you.

“Jungkook…” you breathe against his lips, the word coming out as a plea. Your voice trembles, heavy with longing. “Jungkook… touch me… please.”

Your whispered words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable, and when you repeat yourself, your voice cracks ever so slightly. “Please.” you beg.

Jungkook's lips continue their descent, leaving a trail of warmth along your torso. His kisses are slow and unhurried, as if savoring every inch of your skin. Each touch of his lips ignites sparks that travel through your entire body, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he moves lower. His lips brush against the curve of your stomach, lingering there for a moment as though memorizing the way you feel beneath him.

When he finally reaches the waistband of your underwear, his movements pause, his mouth hovering just above the delicate fabric. Your hips instinctively lift towards him, a soft, breathless moan slipping past your lips... a plea without words.

He notices, his gaze flicking up to meet yours in the dim, intimate glow of the room. His eyes are dark, heavy with desire, yet there’s an undeniable tenderness in them. “Tell me...” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint but filled with an almost reverent care. “Tell me what you want.”

Your throat tightens at his words as you try to wrap your head around this intense moment. “You.” you breathe out, your voice shuddering. The sound is fragile yet unwavering. “I want you.” you repeat, your tone firmer this time, the sincerity in your words undeniable.

A flicker of softness crosses his features, and his lips curve into a small, almost bashful smile. The weight of his gaze makes your heart race as you feel the connection between you deepen in that moment.

And then, without warning, his head dips, and his lips press firmly against your core through the thin fabric of your underwear. The sensation is electrifying, a surge of heat coursing through you that leaves you gasping. Your body arches towards him involuntarily, seeking more of his touch as a wave of pleasure washes over you.

“Jungkook…” you moan, your voice quivering with a mix of surprise and desire. The sound barely escapes your lips before he tightens his grip on your hips, steadying you. His lips remain close, teasingly hovering over your sensitive spot, igniting a fire that seems to consume every inch of you.

Without breaking eye contact, his fingers hook around the waistband. The motion is slow as though he’s savoring every second of the moment. His gaze never wavers, locking onto yours as he smoothly slides the fabric down your legs, the intimacy of his actions leaving you dizzy.

The cool air grazes your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat pooling between you. His gaze drops, and when his eyes meet your glistening core, he pauses, his breath hitching ever so slightly.

“God... you’re so fucking perfect.” he murmurs, the words tumbling out like a confession, low and husky. His voice sends a shiver through you, the intensity of his stare leaving you bare in more ways than one.

His touch is steady, as his fingers trail gently along your folds, exploring with an intimacy that makes your head spin. The warmth of his skin against yours feels electric, igniting every nerve as his movements remain patient, savoring every second of the moment.

"So wet for me." he coos as he carefully dips his finger into you. The action sends a jolt of insane pleasure through your veins and you cry out a loud moan. You feel him sink his fingers deep inside you, pumping them as he gradually increases his pace, eventually adding in another digit.

You're overwhelmed by a cascade of sensations once he adds a third finger, as if stars themselves are scattered before your eyes, their brilliance merging with the overwhelming pleasure that surges through you. It's a feeling that defies explanation, a delicate, almost indescribable wave of euphoria that leaves your legs trembling uncontrollably.

Your moans are relentless, and Jungkook breathes heavily, guiding you towards your peak. He is so captivated by the sight before him... your body glistening with sweat, your chest rising and falling with each breath, your legs trembling with the intensity. It’s utterly mesmerizing.

“Jungkook…” you moan, and his gaze shifts to your face as he leans in, pressing a soft, featherlight kiss against your jaw. "Jungkook...I'm close... so close." you breathe out. "Cum for me." he whispers lowly. "Cum for me, baby." he says again and suddenly you break.

A loud mewl erupts from the bottom of your lungs as you orgasm in his hold. Your body writhing and shaking, unable to recover from the intensity of the high you just came down from. "Fuck... look at you." he sighs, drinking in the sight of you.

You feel his fingers delicately massage your core, the sensation making you flinch momentarily, yet somehow, you find yourself yearning for more. "Jungkook..." you start, your voice soft. "I need you..." you beg again. "I need you inside me....please."

As soon as Jungkook hears you say those words, he moves his hands away from you, now standing up straight as he watches you tremble on his bed. You suddenly feel empty, the warmth of his body no longer enveloping you.

But just when you're starting to miss it, you watch him bend down towards you, his face inching closer towards your already sensitive pussy and you feel his lips against your clit.

You gasp loudly, your back arching up slightly at the feeling. His hands curl from under your thighs as he holds them apart, as he continues to lick and suckle on your most sensitive area. He continues like this for minutes, not once stopping, lapping up the wetness that drips out of you with every flick of his tongue.

Finally, Jungkook lifts his head up from between your legs, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a few steps away from you. You watch as he pulls down his sweatpants, revealing the bulge in his boxer briefs and you can't help but feel a twinge of anticipation at the thought of having him inside you.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook smirks at you, pushing down his boxers to reveal his already hard dick. It stands proud, and you watch in awe as he strokes it gently with one hand while the other one reaches down to rub against your clit, making you bite onto the skin of your lower lip.

He slowly moves towards his nightstand and pulls opens the third drawer, retrieving a condom as he tears it open with his teeth. He slides the latex onto his dick, his hand stroking it up and down to ensure it's fully covered.

As soon as the end of the condom touches his skin, he wastes no time and hovers over you, positioning himself at your entrance. Before doing anything, he finds your gaze, his eyes locking with yours. So many emotions swirl within him, but in this moment, he knows you understand him. The way you're looking back at him speaks volumes, and it all falls into place.

Closing his eyes, he takes a slow breath, feeling the warmth between you both intensify. His lips, still glistening with the remnants of your essence, gently engulf yours in a languid kiss. The kiss deepens with a quiet, unspoken yearning, as time seems to stretch and you finally feel him entering you.

You moan out at the feeling, your eyes widening in shock at how he stretches your walls out. You feel every inch of him as he slides in, your body taking a moment to adjust to the new feeling. But as soon as he stills completely, you feel yourself wrap around his dick, pulling him deeper within you.

His arms find their way around your head, his forearms caging you as he leans in, his nose skimming yours. You watch the way his eyes darken as he begins thrusting, the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing within the room.

"Fuck..." he mutters, his hips rolling against your pelvis. "Fuck, baby.... you feel... you feel so good." he praises, closing his eyes to truly enjoy the blissful sensation. It's like he never wants this to end.

You moan in response, your nails digging into the skin of his back. As if urging him on, he moves faster, his thrusts becoming more insistent, more desperate. His kisses grow deeper and deeper, his lips trailing along your jawline.

When Jungkook feels himself hitting that familiar tight bundle of nerves every time he thrusts into you, you both begin to groan louder, the sensations becoming too much to bear.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls out, leaving you feeling empty for a quick second but you watch him quickly flip you over, pushing your upper body down towards the mattress as he positions himself behind you. You feel him slide back into you, and a loud gasp leaves your lips as a rush of pleasure surges through your body.

"Oh god…" you mewl, the feeling becoming too intense to ignore in this new position. Jungkook's thrusts become more forceful, his body crashing against yours with every slap. His hands hold you by the hips as he fucks you into the mattress.

His breathing becomes more ragged, his groans sounding more animalistic as he starts to reach his climax. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as he pounds into you, his cock sliding in and out of you over and over again. You can't help but let your eyes flutter shut as you let the feeling take over.

"Fuckkk..." he growls, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "I'm... so... fucking close." he says, his thrusts becoming uneven as he slams into you. "You're gonna make me cum so hard... fuck." he moans, his head falling forward.

It's when Jungkook flips you over onto your back again, and this time, looks straight into your eyes that he finally reaches his high along with you. He cums into the condom, while your walls pulsate around his length as you too reach your second orgasm with his body falling over you as both of you pant, trying to catch your breaths.

It’s a long moment before either of you moves, a long moment of heavy breaths and soft kisses. You’re sated, completely and utterly sated, but you don’t want it to end. You want to feel Jungkook against you forever, his skin against yours, his heart beating in time with yours.

He rolls off you slowly, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you into his embrace, holding you as if to shield you from the world. His lips find your temple, pressing soft, lingering kisses that seem to whisper unspoken promises, while his fingers trail soothingly over your chest as he fondles your breast, grounding you with his touch.

After a moment, he shifts, propping himself up with a quiet sigh. "I’ll be right back." he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring, his hand tenderly brushing through your hair before he rises and disappears into the bathroom.

When he returns, a warm, damp cloth in hand, his movements are patient, almost reverent. Kneeling beside you, he carefully tends to you, his touch gentle as he wipes you clean.

His eyes remain on you, soft and filled with something indescribable, his silence speaking louder than words as he ensures you feel cared for, down to the smallest detail.

Once he’s done, you offer him a soft, sleepy smile as he climbs back into bed. He takes his time, gently draping the warm blanket over your figure before settling beside you, pulling you into the circle of his arms. Your skin brushes against his, the heat of your bodies blending, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy that feels like a world of its own.

“That was amazing.” you whisper, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the room as you turn to face him. His lips curve into a gentle smile, and without hesitation, he leans in to place a tender kiss on your cheek.

“It was.” he agrees, his voice low and soothing, before adding with an earnestness that sends a shiver through you. “It’s like you were made for me.”

Your heart flips at his words, a wave of emotion washing over you. Unable to hold back, you burrow closer to him, resting your head against his chest as his arms instinctively tighten around you. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear lulls you into a serene calm, his presence enveloping you entirely.

Jungkook lies there, cradling you against him, his hands resting lightly on your back. He feels the subtle changes in your breathing as sleep begins to claim you, the rise and fall of your chest syncing with his own. As he holds you, his mind drifts, consumed by the depth of his feelings.

The emotions coursing through him are almost overwhelming, far beyond anything he’s ever known. It’s not just fondness or desire... it’s something infinitely more profound. In this quiet moment, with you nestled in his arms, he realizes it’s a much deeper feeling in its truest, purest form.

It’s the kind of feeling that roots itself deep, that alters the very fabric of his being. He doesn’t need to word it yet, the feeling is enough, filling the silence as he watches over you, his heart completely and irrevocably yours.

Your brows furrow as a ray of sunlight pierces through your eyelids, warming your skin but pulling you from the depths of sleep. With a quiet groan, you roll over on the mattress, seeking refuge away from the insistent light.

A soft hum escapes your lips as your eyes flutter open, lazily adjusting to the familiar surroundings and a sleepy smile tugs at your lips. The memories of last night suddenly flood your mind, each one vivid and warm, filling you with a sense of calm.

You remain still, your eyes slipping shut once more as your arm instinctively stretches across the mattress in search of him. But instead of the comforting warmth of his presence, your hand meets only the cold, empty sheets.

The realization stirs you, and your eyes snap open, a small pang of disappointment flickering through your chest. Slowly, you prop yourself up, glancing around the room, your thoughts clouded with curiosity. Where could he be? you wonder and just then, you hear random sounds reaching your ears from beyond the door.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if he’s occupied with something outside, before reluctantly sliding out of bed. Your eyes land on his hoodie, neatly folded on the edge of the nightstand, a detail that makes you smile with quiet affection. Pulling it over yourself, the fabric still carrying his scent, you feel an odd sense of comfort as it envelops you.

With slow steps, you make your way to the closed door, your fingers hesitating on the handle for just a second. Taking a steadying breath, you turn the knob and pull it open, curiosity and anticipation guiding you forward.

As you walk down the hallway, the soft padding of your feet barely makes a sound against the cool floor. You peer around the corner, curiosity tugging at you, and your gaze lands on Jungkook. He’s in the kitchen, his broad back turned towards you, the lean muscles beneath his shirt flexing ever so slightly as he moves.

He’s focused, completely absorbed in whatever he’s working on near the stove, and the sight of him like this... calm and domestic, makes your heart flutter in ways you can’t quite describe.

A tender smile graces your lips as you watch him. There’s something serene about the moment, the way the sunlight streams through the kitchen window, highlighting his features in a golden glow.

You carefully tiptoe closer, your excitement bubbling beneath the surface. When you’re finally close enough, it feels natural to slide your arms around his torso, pulling him into a gentle hug from behind. The moment your cheek presses against his back, a sense of calm washes over you. His warmth radiates through the fabric of his soft t-shirt, and you close your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breath calm you.

For a second, you feel him stiffen, surprised by the sudden touch, but he quickly relaxes, his body leaning ever so slightly into yours. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” he says, his voice low and affectionate, carrying a smile you don’t even need to see to feel.

The remnants of sleep still cling to you, and you hum softly, nuzzling closer against him. The scent of him mingles with the savory aroma of whatever he’s cooking, filling your senses in the most comforting way. His hands find yours, resting gently atop them as if to hold you in place.

“You should’ve stayed in bed.” you hear him say, his teasing tone making you smile. “I was trying to be a gentleman and bring you breakfast in bed.” he adds. A soft giggle escapes your lips. “I missed you.” you say. Your words are quiet, almost muffled against his back, but you know he hears them.

Jungkook lets out a warm chuckle, the sound reverberating through you. Carefully, he loosens your arms, turning to face you with a softness that makes your heart skip a beat. His dark eyes, full of affection, sweep over you as he wraps his arms securely around your shoulders.

Leaning down, he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and gentle against your skin. His thumb grazes the side of your arm in soothing strokes, as if to silently reassure you of his presence.

“I’m right here, baby.” he whispers, his voice tender yet steady, each word laced with quiet devotion. His gaze holds yours for a beat longer, and in that moment, everything feels perfect, like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

You lean closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, and he instinctively tightens his hold around you. The two of you stay there, cocooned in each other's embrace, the warmth of his body engulfing you in a way nothing else can.

“Are you always this clingy?” he teases, the light humor in his voice causing your cheeks to warm. A soft whine escapes your lips as you hug him even tighter, burying your face into his shirt as if to hide from his playful jab.

Despite your wordless protest, your actions seem to betray you, holding onto him like you never want to let go. Jungkook’s chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, and his fingers trace slow, soothing circles on your back.

In this quiet moment, Jungkook’s mind is a swirl of emotions. Somehow, this is everything he's ever wanted. He glances down at you, nestled securely in his arms, and his heart swells. It feels perfect. It feels like home.

After what feels like an eternity but isn’t long enough, he gently pulls away, his arms still lingering around your shoulders as he looks down at you. A soft smile plays on his lips, full of fondness and warmth. “Why don’t you take a seat here?” he suggests, guiding you towards the kitchen island with a tenderness that makes your heart swell with affection.

He helps you settle onto the chair, his touch light but reassuring. “I’ll get you breakfast.” he says, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before turning back to the stove.

You watch him move around the kitchen, the steady rhythm of his actions mesmerizing. There’s something so thoughtful about the way he works... grabbing ingredients, checking the stove, arranging things with care. You rest your elbows on the island, propping your chin on your hands as you observe him, a soft, content smile spreading across your lips.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder every now and then, catching your gaze with a subtle grin that makes your heart flutter. The way he pours his attention into even the smallest details of your breakfast leaves you feeling cherished.

After a few minutes, he walks back with a tray in his hands. Placing it gently on the counter, he takes his time arranging the cutlery, making sure everything is perfect before finally taking the seat across from you.

Your eyes immediately fall on the spread in front of you. A steaming bowl of kimchi stew, a small pot of perfectly cooked rice, and an array of vibrant side dishes neatly arranged. Your lips part in awe as you take it all in.

“Wow.” you breathe, your voice laced with genuine amazement. “This looks amazing.” Your gaze shifts from the food to Jungkook, and your heart beats a little faster when you see the way he’s looking at you... smiling softly, his eyes filled with quiet pride and affection. “Dig in cutie.” he says simply.

After finishing your hearty breakfast and an impromptu make out session on the cold kitchen counter, you and Jungkook finally realize it’s time to face the responsibilities of the day. It’s Monday morning, and both of you have packed schedules ahead.

Jungkook gets dressed first, effortlessly putting on his usual rugged yet polished attire. Once he’s ready, he insists on riding you back to your place so that you can get ready.

Almost 20 minutes later, Jungkook steps into your apartment, his boots making soft thuds against the wooden floor as he takes a moment to absorb the place you call home.

The space is small but cozy, filled with little touches of your personality that instantly make him smile. A faint floral scent lingers in the air, mixing with the remnants of a candle you must’ve burned earlier, the half-melted wax still sitting on the coffee table.

He walks further inside, his dark eyes wandering over everything... the stack of books neatly arranged on a shelf, the framed photos on the walls, and the tiny collection of soft toys resting on your couch.

His gaze lands on a small cluster of succulents sitting on the windowsill, their pots painted in bright colors and nice patterns. A faint smile tugs at his lips as he leans closer, his fingers lightly brushing the edge of one of the pots.

“You’ve got a nice place.” he calls out, his voice soft but carrying easily through the space. “Thanks !!” he hears you reply from the bedroom, where you’re still getting ready. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” you add.

Jungkook chuckles under his breath, his attention shifting to the bookshelf nearby. His fingers graze the spines of the books, pausing on one with a faded, pastel cover. He pulls it out and flips through it idly, his brows raising as he realizes it’s a romance novel. A knowing smirk crosses his face. “So this is what you're into.” he mutters.

“Don’t snoop!” you call out playfully. “I’m not snooping.” he lies, setting the book back in its place with an innocent expression, even though you can’t see him.

He turns and spots a small collection of polaroid pictures pinned to a corkboard by the door. There's some of you and your friends, you and your grandma, he assumes and various other people he can't quite recognize. His smile softens at the sight, his thumb brushing over the edge of the board. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until your voice snaps him out of it. “All done!”

Jungkook turns just in time to see you step out of your room, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. You’re not even dressed up fancy or out of the ordinary, it just like how he's always seen you in your shop but something about the way you carry yourself... the way you look at him with that easy smile, has him feeling like he’s just been hit by a freight train.

“You were snooping, weren’t you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “Maybe a little.” he admits, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But can you blame me? There’s so much you here. It’s... nice.”

Your cheeks flush at his words, and you try to hide your embarrassment by grabbing your bag. “Well, I’m ready now. Let’s go before you start judging my book collection.”

Jungkook laughs, stepping forward to grab your coat from the rack. He holds it open for you, his hands brushing against your shoulders as he helps you slip it on. The small, domestic gesture feels oddly intimate, and for a second, neither of you say anything.

As you lock the door, both of you walk hand in hand as you go downstairs, heading towards his bike that's parked right outside your building.

The ride towards your shops, feels different today. Jungkook isn’t speeding like he usually does, nor does he seem in any particular rush. His movements are calm and steady and it dawns on you... this is his way of stretching the moment, of holding onto the little time he has with you before the day takes over.

When the bike finally comes to a smooth stop a few meters away from your shop, you carefully get off, placing your hand on his shoulder for balance as you remove the helmet. You hand it back to him with a soft, shy smile.

Jungkook watches you with an amused pout tugging at his lips. “Dropping my girlfriend off to work, and even though she’s going to be right next to my shop all day, I still can’t wait for the day to end so that I can see her again in peace.” he says, somewhat sulking.

You laugh, the sound light and infectious, as you arch your brows at him. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you ask. “Hello?? I thought we already established that… especially after last night.” he replies instantly, clearly offended.

You snort at his expression, which is a mix of indignation and vulnerability. “Well, you never asked.” you shrug, teasing him. His lips part slightly, as if your words had genuinely taken him aback. He lets out a dramatic sigh, his pout deepening. “Y/N… can I please… PLEASE… be your boyfriend?” he asks, his voice laced with endearing desperation.

You can’t help but grin at how utterly adorable he looks right now. Still, you can’t resist pulling his leg just a little longer. “Go ahead, biker boy. You’ve got a business to run.” you tease and before he can come up with a snarky retort, you lean in close and press a sweet, fleeting kiss to his lips.

“Bye!” you chirp, spinning on your heels and jogging towards your shop’s door before he can protest. Jungkook stays rooted to his spot on the bike, his lips curving into a soft grin. His dark eyes follow your every step as you unlock your shop’s door, his chest fluttering when you pause to glance back and wave at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes!!” he yells after you, his voice laced with boyish excitement. Hearing your laugh ring out in response makes him feel like he's actually floating.

As you disappear inside, his grin fades into a wistful smile. He already misses your scent, your warmth, the way your presence seems to light up his entire world. But then his gaze shifts to his shop, standing right next to yours.

With a reluctant sigh, he starts his bike again and parks it right outside his shop. He steps inside, and the familiar scent of oil, grease, and rubber greets him.

The moment he walks through the door, Jimin’s voice cuts through the air, his attention still fixed on the bike he’s repairing. “Someone’s late to work today.” he teases without even looking up.

“Of course he is. Lover boy here was on a date last night." Yoongi adds with his usual deadpan delivery, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips gives him away. At Yoongi’s words, both Hoseok and Jimin instantly stop whatever they're doing, their heads snapping towards Jungkook with exaggerated curiosity.

“A date?” they chorus in unison, their voices dripping with disbelief and amusement. Jungkook clicks his tongue, pouting as though Yoongi had just spilled a closely guarded secret. “Hyung...” he whines, dragging out the word as his cheeks flush faintly.

“What? You should be glad I never told them about what I walked into here last week.” Yoongi retorts, his voice calm yet dripping with mischief as he adjusts the wrench in his hand. Jungkook halts in his step, his brows furrowing in instant alarm. “Shut up, hyung.” he snaps, the tips of his ears reddening as he strides further into the shop.

But it’s too late. Hoseok and Jimin are already near the counter beside him. Hoseok raises both hands, gesturing for a pause, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Hold up, hold up...” he says, his tone somewhere between excitement and disbelief. “It feels like we’ve missed a couple of very important chapters here.” he says. Jimin leans closer, a grin spreading across his face as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, what’s going on???” he asks.

Yoongi, ever the instigator, doesn’t even look up as he continues working. “Not much to tell...” he says, his voice casual but smug. “Biker boy here is completely whipped for the girl next door, and judging by his face, I’m guessing they’ve finally made it official.”

The words hang in the air for just a moment before Jimin and Hoseok erupt into exaggerated cheers, their claps echoing in the garage. Hoseok even whistles, drawing out the moment as though Jungkook’s love life was the highlight of their day.

“Seriously?” Hoseok exclaims, clutching his chest as if he’s genuinely touched. “You and Y/n??? it was about time!!” he exclaims. Jimin nods, his laughter contagious. “And here we were thinking you’d end up married to your bike because of your constipated feelings.”

Jungkook, who had been doing a great job of pretending to check the tools on the workbench, feels the heat rising up his neck to his cheeks. He presses his lips together tightly, but the smile he’s trying so hard to suppress betrays him. It fights its way to the surface, his dimples deepening as he looks down to avoid his friends’ piercing gazes.

“Ah, look at him blushing!” Jimin teases, nudging Hoseok, who’s doubled over in laughter by now. Jungkook groans, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Can you guys not?” he mutters, but his voice lacks bite, the slight tremor of embarrassment giving him away.

Yoongi finally looks up, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t bother hiding it, Kook. It’s written all over your face. You’re down bad, and there’s no escaping it now.”

And as much as Jungkook wants to argue, he knows they’re right. Because even now, standing in the middle of his shop, surrounded by his teasing friends, his mind keeps wandering back to you... the date yesterday... followed by the beautiful night he had with you... the sound of your laughter... the way you kissed him before running off to your shop... it all just feels extremely surreal.

It’s around 7 PM, the fading light outside casting a warm golden glow into the shop through the slightly open shutters. Jungkook is crouched beside a bike, his hands deftly working on tightening the bolts of the rear wheel and adjusting the suspension.

The soft hum of tools fills the otherwise quiet space, the kind of silence that feels earned after a long day. Hoseok and Jimin had clocked out an hour ago, leaving only Jungkook and Yoongi to wrap things up.

Yoongi sits at the counter, his legs casually propped up on a stool as his fingers flip through a stack of receipts for spare parts he had ordered last week. The faint rustle of paper and the occasional clink of a tool are the only sounds in the shop.

As Yoongi glances up, his eyes fall on Jungkook, who is entirely absorbed in the task at hand. The younger man’s brows are furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed into a firm line as he works. For a moment, Yoongi simply observes him... there’s something different about Jungkook today, something lighter.

The thought prompts a question to surface in Yoongi’s mind, and without much preamble, he decides to speak. “So, you and Y/n? How’d that go yesterday?” he asks casually.

The sound of your name breaks through Jungkook’s focus, and he stops what he's doing. A smile spreads across his face, slow and unguarded, as though he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. His shoulders relax, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

“It… was perfect, hyung.” he says, his voice carrying a warmth that matches the smile lighting up his face. Yoongi leans back slightly, his lips curving into a small smile. He doesn’t say anything immediately, just watches Jungkook, whose expression is a portrait of pure, unfiltered joy and something warm.

Before Yoongi can comment, Jungkook continues, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “She’s just… so great, hyung... like she was made for me. Everything about her... it just fits, you know?” He pauses, his eyes taking on a faraway look, his mind clearly drifting back to you. “It's like... she’s my person.” he murmurs, the words carrying the weight of certainty.

Yoongi notices the dreamy gleam in Jungkook’s eyes, the way his usually sharp features have softened. It’s like he’s utterly lost, drowning in thoughts of you, and yet he seems completely at peace.

Yoongi chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’ve got it bad, kid.” he teases, though his tone is devoid of mockery. There’s only fondness in his voice as he takes in the rare sight of Jungkook so smitten.

"I'm afraid I have, hyung." Jungkook says almost instantly, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper. Yoongi’s brows knit together, his curiosity piqued by the seriousness in the younger one's tone. "Really?" Yoongi asks, leaning forward slightly, his fingers still resting on the counter.

Jungkook hesitates, as his eyes lower, staring at the bike like it holds the answers to the storm brewing inside him. It’s clear he’s sifting through his emotions, trying to put into words about something that’s been weighing on him.

The air in the shop feels heavier, the comfortable silence replaced with an almost palpable tension. Jungkook exhales slowly, setting the wrench he's holding, carefully down as though the movement itself might help him untangle his thoughts.

Then, suddenly, he looks up, his eyes meeting Yoongi’s from across the room. The vulnerability in his gaze is startling, his usual confidence stripped away, leaving only raw honesty. "Hyung…" Jungkook starts, his voice quieter now, like he’s afraid the truth might be too loud. "I don’t like Y/n." he breathes out.

Yoongi blinks, his confusion immediate and evident. He tilts his head slightly, a frown creasing his features. "Kook, what?" he questions.

Jungkook shakes his head quickly, lifting a hand as if to wave off Yoongi’s misunderstanding. "No, no, that’s not what I mean." he says, his words coming faster now, almost stumbling over them. "What I’m saying is… I don’t think it’s just ‘like.’ This thing between us... it's... it’s not simple. It’s not... casual. It’s so much... more than that for me."

He pauses, his chest rising and falling as though the admission itself has stolen the air from his lungs. His voice grows softer, but the weight of his emotions makes every word hit harder. "It’s deep, hyung. So deep that I can’t even explain it. It’s like… she’s the only thing that makes everything else make sense."

Yoongi watches him closely, the younger man’s words sinking in, layer by layer. His own expression softens as realization dawns upon him. The way Jungkook speaks, the way his eyes seem to light up even as he struggles to explain himself... it’s unmistakable.

"Kook…" Yoongi starts, leaning back slightly, his voice tinged with both surprise and understanding. His eyes widen as the pieces fall into place. "No way..." he chuckles, his tone louder, tinged with disbelief.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he looks away for a moment. But then he meets Yoongi’s gaze again, and this time, there’s no hesitation.

"You love her, don’t you?"

<- part 11 // part 13 ->

series masterlist

taglist:@kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey @shellyyy177 @daskewl @blackswan18 @korian97 @minimoninini @ericawantstoescape @rpwprpwprpwprw @tokkiggukie @jaytheatiny

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theaceofarrows · 19 days ago

Text

A list of things that have occurred during Christmas time at Wayne Manor

9 year old Dick hung stockings from the chandelier, and one fell Bruce's head and gave him a concussion

Jason's first Christmas at the manor Dick woke him up at 6:00 a.m. to surprise him and open presents, and he scared Jason so bad that he gave Dick a black eye. They still bring it up every year

Someone put a throwing star in a snowball that resulted in a trip to the ER

There is a tally mark board of how many times Jason can quote A Christmas Carol between December 1st and 25th

There is also a tally mark board for how many times someone utters the phrase "Someone's halls are getting decked." It always reaches at least 36

Someone's halls DO get decked

The song Jingle Bells Batman Smells has been banned under penalty of no dessert

Steph tried to spray paint the Christmas tree purple

Titus was dressed up as Rudolph, and Ace was dressed up as Max from The Grinch

Someone put chili flakes in the hot chocolate pot

Bruce was gifted Green Lantern merchandise by all of his kids

Alfred the cat, has managed to knock over the Christmas tree 6 times. The tree is 17 feet tall. Alfred, the cat is 7lbs

Cass got everyone to do The Nutcracker with her while Alfred recorded it. It reached a billion hits online

Tim gifted Dick a framed picture of him in his Dicsowing era that he took. Dick hung it up

One of the bats in the Batcave somehow ended up with a miniature Santa hat

Damian stabbed multiple people with a candy cane

Jason gifted Alfred shotgun shells

Bruce tried to help make Christmas cookies and put salt in them instead of sugar, and now no one will let him live it down

Somebody wrapped Bruce's presents in Superman wrapping paper

Jason and Damian made a gingerbread Tajmahal. Duke, Cass, and Tim made a gingerbread castle. Steph, Dick, Bruce made a collapsed gingerbread building (it was supposed to be a log cabin)

Someone but fake antlers on the Batman

Tim gave Damian coal. Damian stabbed him with a candy cane; again

Someone gifted Jason a tire iron

Damian dropped a box of tinsel on Duke when he was trying to get Tim, so Duke later dropped a box of fake snow on Damian

The Christmas tree got decorated with Batarangs

A fistfight nearly breaks out because of an argument of whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie. It happens every year

Tim has been tied up in garland and hung from the ceiling

Batcow ended up on the front of the Wayne family Christmas card

Multiple people have tried to electrocute a sibling with Christmas lights

Someone made the ham explode in the oven

There's an annual wrapping paper roll sword fight. There's always a minimum of 4 injuries, but the winner gets to pick the Christmas movie

Duke wore a Batman Christmas sweater for the ugly sweater contest and won

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #Stephanie brown #duke thomas #damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfamily #batfam #batkids #batbros #batdad #batfamily headcanons #batfam headcanons #christmas special #is it really a headcanon if at least half of these have definitely happened

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f1byjessie · 11 months ago

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part five.

You’ve never actually been to Monaco. It was one of the few Grand Prix you’d had to miss. Logan’s retelling of how it was had been slightly skewed by disappointment and frustration at his less-than-stellar results that weekend, but his descriptions of everything had still painted a picture of lavishness and excitement in your mind, and you’d been dreaming ever since for the chance to experience it yourself.

You’re here now, and even just the view from the plane had lived up to the hype. On the ground, it’s enough to leave you breathless. The deep blue water of the Riviera glitters with the golden glow of the afternoon sun, the mountains stand tall off in the distance, and the grand opulence of the city makes you feel like you’ve stepped foot into a whole new world.

You’re not unfamiliar with the lifestyle of riches and luxury, but Monaco is on another level entirely.

Lando, the reason you’re here in the first place, appears beside you. On the ride back to his place from the airport, he’d caught you marveling at the marina and had pulled off onto the side of the road to let you get out and take a longer look. The boats look like miniature cruise ships, sleek and elegant where they rest in the water, swaying gently with waves. It reminds you, vaguely, of back home.

“Ready to go?” He asks, fiddling with his keys.

You spare the marina one last glance, then nod and turn on your foot with the knowledge that you’ll be here for a week longer still and will have plenty of time later to take in the view as much as you want.

Lando’s house, when you arrive, is just as expensive looking as the rest of Monte Carlo.

The exterior is expertly landscaped and maintained, with hedges perfectly trimmed and flowers flawlessly pruned. It’s slightly lacking in regards to the personality you imagined Lando having. His car is personalized and his wardrobe is a look into who he is, but the outside of his house looks… normal, for lack of a better term. It’s beautiful, nonetheless, but it’s simple all the same.

When he opens the door, you take it all back. The interior screams Lando Norris. It’s extravagant in a way that mirrors what you know of his personality, but it’s comfortable. You’ve been to homes that look more like show houses, where the furniture seemingly exists to be viewed but not used, and all the decorations are vague and impersonal enough to fill blank space and do little else. This is the opposite.

There’s a blanket folded haphazardly over the arm of the couch, and mismatched pillows. On the coffee table is a half-empty bottle of water, a book with a scrap piece of paper hanging out from the middle, and an opened pack of batteries. There are pictures on the walls in mismatched frames— friends and family and achievements from throughout Lando’s career that tell a story of his successes and proudest moments.

It looks like a real home. When you tell him, he laughs.

“With how little time I actually get to spend here, you’d think it’d be the opposite,” he comments.

He helps you bring your bags up to a guest room and then gives you a tour of the rest of the house. Letting you ask questions and answering them sincerely.

When you’re back in your room, unpacking your clothes, it occurs to you just how crazy all of this is. You know Lando, but you haven’t known him for very long. Your friendship has only developed over comments on social media, texts, and the occasional phone call over a few weeks. But you’re here, across the ocean in a country you’ve never been to before, spending a week in his house just because he asked you here and offered to help you with your love life dilemma.

Your life is beginning to feel more and more like a movie, and all you can do is hope it has a happy ending.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 31,871 others

yourusername a pretty girl with a pretty car in a pretty city

view all 3,832 comments

logansargeant think you might need to get your eyes checked bc all i see is a pretty car sooo

↳ yourusername you have six days. run. hide. i don’t care. but enjoy your time while it lasts

↳ logansargeant i’m telling mom

↳ yourusername she can’t save you now.

user STUNNING STUNNING AND STUNNING 😍😍😍

user all three things i don’t have

user WE NEVER GOT Y/N IN MONACO DURING THE SEASON BUT I AM LIVING FOR IT NOW

landonorris *prettiest

↳ yourusername you’re only saying that cuz it’s your car

↳ user yea we definitely missed smth cuz wTF IS THIS 👀

user lando up in here stealing oscar’s girl

user OSCAR COME GET YOUR GIRL

user is she in monaco??? with lando??? 👀👀

user mclaren boys fighting over the same chick was not on my bingo card

user i need these men to make up their damn minds like bffr first oscar and now lando??? bros get it together pls 😮‍💨😮‍💨

user i think we should stop speculating about the relationships between real ppl bc they’re adults and can do what they want, plus they could just be friends and ppl saying they’re together could make things awkward for them

↳ user nah they’re totally together

“The comments are going crazy,” you tell Lando, staring down at your phone and scrolling the long chain of comments beneath your most recent post.

Some are supportive— people who knew you before your brother got involved with Formula 1 and don’t care about the drama, or they’re other models you’ve become tentative acquaintances with after years of working in the industry. Some are speculative, wanting to know if you’re with Lando, what happened between you and Oscar, theorizing about fights, messy breakups, and revenge rebounds. Some, however, are just mean, calling you a slut for leading on two guys at the same time, or a bitch for ruining their imaginary chances with their favorite driver.

You wouldn’t claim that you’re used to this type of negative attention, but you’re not unused to it either. So much of your job requires a social media presence and with your life in the limelight as a byproduct of both Logan and Dalton’s own very successful careers, you’re no stranger to internet trolls and people who are vicious just because they can be.

That doesn’t make some of the comments hurt any less.

“None of them matter,” Lando answers from beside you, his eyes focused on the road. “It’s just people who don’t know what they’re talking about.” He recites it like it’s something he’s had to say hundreds of times before, and it occurs to you that he probably has, to himself if not anyone else in his line of work.

You’re sat once again in the passenger seat of his car as he drives you back to his place. The streets of Monte Carlo at night are dazzling and even more beautiful than in the day with twinkling lights and a raging nightlife scene, but you’re distracted still by your phone, checking and rechecking to see if there’s any hint of Oscar in your notifications.

There isn’t.

It feels like a dismal ending to what had truly been such a lovely night.

You’re in a gorgeous dress, in a gorgeous car, in a gorgeous city, with a man who’s fun and relaxing to be around, who doesn’t make you feel like a side piece or arm candy, and who is genuinely a friend to you. You went to an amazing restaurant and ate some of the best food in your life with some of the best company, got slightly tipsy off of wine you didn’t have to pretend to enjoy for once, and it’s only the beginning of your time here in Monaco.

But rather than enjoy what you have here in the present, all you can think about is the one thing that would make it that much better— Oscar.

“Maybe I should just give up,” you mutter, finally turning your eyes away from the screen. “He probably kissed me, realized he wasn’t interested, and the reason he hasn’t brought it up is because it was all just a big mistake that he wants to forget.”

Lando makes a sound that you’re not quite sober enough to place. “I think the only way you could know that is if you talked to him.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”

He makes another sound, but you’re too disappointed to really pay it much mind, and by the time he’s pulling into the garage you’ve forgotten all about it.

He helps you out, ever the gentleman as you’ve learned tonight, and then you’re following him to the door, trying not to let your bad mood ruin things too much. You’re still incredibly grateful and appreciative to him for helping you so much despite not having known you very well when it all began.

“Seriously, though, Lando.” You speak up suddenly, just as he’s about to open the door. “Thank you for doing all this for me. Even if nothing comes of it, I’ve already had a lot of fun and you’re a good friend.”

All he does is offer you a smile over his shoulder, before pushing the door open.

When you step in through the doorway after him, you’re momentarily confused by the luggage waiting in the entryway. For a split second, you think you must have left some of yours down here, but then you look a bit closer and realize that it definitely isn’t yours.

There's movement from your peripherals as someone in the living room stands from the couch and crosses the distance to the entryway's threshold.

“You’re back earlier than I thought, Lando—” you snap your head up in surprise just as the voice cuts off.

You stare at him in shock. “Oscar…”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal

━━ a/n: tada! i have the rest of this fic entirely planned out from here and i am so excited to get to the juicy parts finally! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

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ninibeingdelulu · 7 months ago

Text

A kid’s dream ✧

Plot: You find 5 years old Bachira playing alone, so you decide to join him.

A/N: Can I say im proud of this post ? Cause I am. Oh and if you didn’t understand you’re a kid too, like the same age as him.

The late afternoon light cast a warm, honeyed glow across the empty sandbox, creating wispy shadows that danced and flickered playfully with the faintest breeze.

A chubby-cheeked little boy with a tousled mop of messy black curls bounded around the sun-dappled area, kicking a battered soccer ball in exaggerated, uncoordinated motions.

Despite his cherubic features and bright sapphire eyes sparkling with pure glee, something melancholic emanated from the small figure.

A cloud of perpetual isolation, as if the tiny boy orbited on a plane just adjacent to all his peers - forever the outsider peering in.

"Haha! Did you see that shot?!"

Meguru shouted to no one in particular, tiny chest heaving from exertion as he beamed proudly at the ball now rolling to a stop several feet away.

Before he could race after it again, a soft voice piped up from behind causing the young boy to pivot with those big doe eyes blown wide.

"Whatcha doin'?"

You toddled across the sandy pit, downy hair ruffled by the balmly zephyrs tickling your round cheeks.

Despite the cherubic picture of innocence you painted, Meguru immediately bristled - shoulders hunching as if bracing for the inevitable round of mockery that always accompanied any overtures at friendly interaction.

He lifted a chubby arm to vigorously rub at his button nose, regarding you with open suspicion laced through those crystal azure pools.

"Um...playin' soccer?"

A puzzled nose-wrinkle creased your brow at Meguru's inexplicable wariness to so simple an inquiry.

"All by yourself?"

The little boy merely nodded, muddy cleats scuffing the sand as he shuffled in place - clearly prepared for the teasing jabs that typically followed such observations from other kids.

Realizing he wasn't going to supply any additional details unprompted, you simply traipsed nearer, wide-eyed with youthful curiosity.

"But that seems lonely..." You cocked your head to one side, round features scrunched in consternation.

"Do you wanna play together? I'm not very good yet, but I can try!"

Meguru froze, mouth parting with unspoken surprise at your words - so averse to the ugly responses long imprinted on his young psyche.

Was this some cruel joke? A setup to deliver an even more brutal punchline mocking his desires for friendship?

Frantically his gaze searched yours for any trace of trickery or meanness, finding only the most openly earnest and disarmingly sweet expression mirrored back at him.

You simply waited, clumsily fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as minutes ticked by suspended in breathless hope.

That strange, untapped warmth began radiating through Meguru's tiny chest as the reality cemented in his mind. Not only did you wish to play with him...but there was no scorn or malice in your proposition whatsoever!

Within seconds, his whole demeanor transformed in a blinding shift as happiness and disbelieving joy erased all lingering uncertainty.

Scrambling closer to you, the little boy's sun-kissed features split in a megawatt grin of purest elation so overflowing, it seemed to eclipse his entire miniature frame.

Those big sapphire eyes sparkled like crystalline dewdrops, all radiant hope and heart-bursting affection.

Eagerly Meguru reached for your hand, bouncing on the balls of his tiny feet with infectious enthusiasm.

"Yeah!! Yeah, I wanna play together!!"

He squeezed your fingers tight, as if trying to fuse your joined souls into an adamant tether even at this tender age.

Giggling at his exuberance, you gave a reciprocating squeeze as the two of you tumbled onto the sand in a whirl of kicking legs and peals of carefree, tinkling laughter.

Any apprehension evaporated in the golden warmth of this newly-forged comradeship encircling you both in its glow.

For Meguru, it was as if the universe itself had rewarded his earnest desires with the ultimate miracle - a friend, one who could see the boundless depths of his spirit beyond cold, callous judgements.

In those fleeting moments, the young striker felt buoyantly weightless and complete, untethered by solitude for the first time in his short life so far.

His whole world shifted onto an exciting new axis the instant you graced it with simple, radiant innocence and acceptance. In that moment, nothing else in existence could touch him but the breathtaking potential for adventure and belonging stretching into the horizon...

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seventeenreasonswhy · 3 months ago

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Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 3

Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader

Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention to you!?

~1.5k words

Read Part 1 + Part 2

Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).

My Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and liked this little series so far! This part reveals more about Y/N’s interests and talents, which she’s afraid to share because she is insecure! But not for long with sweet Jeon Wonwoo around. Also she has a fictional younger sister named Daehee (not after anyone in particular, I just like that name). 😉 These two are so innocent and cute, I’m having such fun writing them! Enjoy!!

Taglist: @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy @sojuxxi @vixensss @lixisoul99 @mjpark15 @lelsforlino @neivivenaj @blvkkeddcc (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

“Whoa you’re going all out on that, Y/N—”

Your younger sister, Daehee, had come down for breakfast with her bangs still in curlers, wearing her school uniform shirt over her Hello Kitty pajama pants. She was watching you as you concentrated on preparing various dishes at the stove. A thin omelet, grilled shishito peppers, vegetable tempura; it was pretty simple stuff, but you’d developed an urge to create aesthetically pleasing lunches these days.

You couldn’t really explain it, although somewhere in your heart you knew it probably had something to do with Jeon Wonwoo.

For the past week, Jean Wonwoo had been spending lunch on the roof alone with you.

The two of you barely exchanged words, really. Your longest conversation probably lasted only a few minutes. But not for Wonwoo’s lack of trying! You still wondered why he was spending his lunchtime up there at all—even more so why would he keep trying to strike up conversations with you? You guessed he really was just that nice. But every time you were around him you couldn’t help clamming up somehow.

“Are you in any clubs, Y/N?” he’d asked you the other day, between bites of his kimbap.

“Uh, no...” you answered quietly, your nerves frazzled from your total lack of conversational skills.

“None of them appeal to you?”

“Uh, not really that...” you didn’t know how to answer him. You’d ended up just looking at him blankly, like a fool. However, nothing in his facial expression or his tone made you feel like you had to necessarily come up with an answer... But his gaze was intent, and you found it hard to hold onto for more than about three seconds.

“What do you do for fun? To relax?” he followed up breezily, “You’re the class mystery.”

“Um,” the odd self-consciousness you felt at being called ‘the class mystery’ aside, you couldn’t really think of anything to say to him.

Actually, there was one thing that came to mind... but it wasn’t something you’d ever shared with anyone. Your one ‘hobby.’ Though to you it felt more like... squeezing a stress ball. It was what you did when you needed to turn your brain off.

He wants to know what I do to relax?

You couldn’t say what compelled you, but you pulled out your phone and found the photo album you had saved of your miniature paintings.

You worked with acrylic paint on very small canvasses, using very fine, small brushes to create miniature floral designs, portraits, landscapes... Your style was incredibly detailed. You had hundreds of tiny canvasses in little boxes and frames all over your room. You took pictures of most of these tiny paintings when you finished. You had even recorded a couple of time-lapse videos, showing you creating them in fast motion. You’d never felt compelled to create a social media account to display or monetize them, though. You painted because it was what you had done since you were a preteen—the careful, methodical process of dabbing tiny paintbrushes into your carefully mixed colors, getting the tone and shading of a poppy flower’s petal on a tiny scale just right... For you, creating these paintings was like a meditative practice.

By some stroke of inspiration—or insanity—you handed your phone to Wonwoo. His face became visibly more curious as he took your phone carefully in his hands.

“Wowwww,” Wonwoo said, holding the screen closer to his face. He seemed absorbed in your phone—you even caught him zoom in on a few pictures. You could tell he was looking carefully through the album.

“You’re crazy talented!” he said after a while. He sounded genuinely impressed.

“No, haha,” you somehow laughed, coughed, and gasped at the same time, your heart accelerating out of embarrassment from his compliment.

“No, seriously—Y/N, these are really incredible!” he said. “They’re so detailed, and they’re so small! How do you even do that!?” His eyes were glued to your phone screen. A part of you was screaming inside, why on earth you would show these to him!? and urging you to snatch your phone right out of his hand, throw it over the side of the building even. You couldn’t believe that Wonwoo was seeing this, this... habit. And YOU had been the one to show him, of all things!

“I wouldn’t say they’re ‘incredible,’” you said, filling up with more and more anxiety over coming off as bragging or crossing some social boundary that you shouldn’t have crossed.

Wonwoo finally looked up from the screen, looking directly at you instead. You still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you felt his eyes on you. After a long pause, you dared to glance up at him...

But he quickly looked away from you.

Ugh, I’m probably making him feel like he has to be super nice or something...

“Oh, whoa—a time-lapse?” He said, quickly recovering from the somewhat awkward moment when your eyes had met. But his stumbling across the most recent time-lapse video that you’d made prompted you to snap out of your reverie and bolt to grab your phone out of Wonwoo’s hands.

“Ah, don’t watch that!” you lunged for your phone, but Wonwoo reflexively pulled his hand away, surprised by your reaction but still effortlessly dodging your attempt. He smirked down at you, and your heart almost stopped.

“Why not?” he said, and the deep resonance of his voice made you realize how close your bodies were—you were practically sprawled over him after reaching for your phone, his face just inches from yours...

Your whole body seemed to flush a deep shade of red before you catapulted backward away from him. You could have sworn that you saw that Wonwoo smiling to himself, but you were so flustered and anxious about the way you’d completely invaded his personal space that you couldn’t think straight.

“I won’t watch it,” he said light-heartedly, smiling at you as he tossed your phone back to you. “But you are super talented, Y/N. Painting is such a unique skill, too.”

And just like that, he went back to eating his kimbap like nothing had happened. His relaxed, friendly tone mercifully neutralized the atmosphere, but you just stood there clutching your phone to your chest.

“It’s not that I’m embarrassed,” you started, even though you couldn’t look Wonwoo in the eye, “It’s just—I’ve never shared these paintings with anyone except my family...” Your heart kind of ached for some reason as you said this to Wonwoo, who just continued to look at you in silence. What on earth had compelled you to share that with him?

Agh, say something! You willed for this pause in conversation pass, but it didn’t seem to be budging.

“Thank you for showing me,” Wonwoo said at last. His low, gentle voice seemed to shoot directly into your bloodstream, flushing you an even deeper shade of red than you thought was humanly possible. You looked at him briefly, and something about the way he was looking back at you...

The moment had played over and over again like a movie in your head for the past few days. The directness of his gaze. The rich, sincere quality of his voice. The way he’d smiled to himself... you couldn’t stop thinking of that particular lunch hour.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Daehee watched you dip veggies in tempura batter and toss them in the pot of hot oil on the stove. You let your mind run through the questions it had been asking all week: why was he spending time with you like this? Did he lose a bet? Is there some kind of hidden camera prank you should be wary of? More than that, why was he being so nice?

“Hellooo, earth to Y/N! I said you’re really going to town on your lunches these days,” Daehee tried again to get a rise out of you.

“Oh,” you said, taking the last piece of tempura squash out of the oil. “I just like experimenting.” You weren’t lying, exactly—you did like exploring all kinds of different food and dishes. Cooking was fun to you, different from the calm of painting.

You would be lying if you said that an added bonus wasn’t Wonwoo noticing and complimenting your work.

You liked it when he praised you. It felt like he meant it.

No one could be that good at faking sincerity, could they?

You couldn’t help but hear that small voice in the back of your head, doubting Wonwoo’s intentions.

But he hadn’t done anything other than come up to the roof during lunch this week, mostly just eating in silence with you—the two of you simply looking out at the sky...

But after you had shown him your paintings...

Maybe it was since then that you had started to put more effort into your lunches.

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pityroadart · 6 months ago

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👁 CUSTOM EYE PAINTING COMMISSIONS 👁

Realised I'm gonna have too much month at the end of my money, BUT I have time to take on a handful of eye commissions - something I've not offered publicly for over a year!

I WILL PAINT:

your favourite F1 or sports person; Star Trek or Good Omens characters; your favourite film or TV show blorbo(s); yourself and/or your partner/friend/family member etc; in short, any eye you fancy!

I REQUIRE:

clear reference(s) that include the whole eye & eyebrow — ideally high res or close-ups if from TV/film, multiple references are always helpful if it's a person/character I'm not familiar with. I'm always down to help find references!

if taking your own references, please use the back camera (rather than selfie camera) of your phone, and take pictures in natural light (stand near a window ideally)

YOU WILL RECIEVE:

the physical painting AND a digital copy for personal use (as an icon, etc although I appreciate credit if posting online).

Paper options:

2.5 x 3.75" rectangle on smooth (hot press) or lightly textured (cold press) paper

approx. 3.5" square on smooth (hot press) or lightly textured (cold press) paper

custom size paper if you have a miniature frame/locket/etc you'd like to fill (I will paint to a rectangle/square size and you can trim the painting to fit)

Left: cold press (textured) subtle natural paper texture shows up watercolour granulation better. Right: hot press (smooth) gives smoother washes.

All paintings created using professional grade watercolours with a high lightfastness.

PRICE:

1 eye - £15 (plus shipping)

discounts available for sets of 2/3/4/etc

payment required upfront before I start work on your painting

payment via PayPal

TURNAROUND TIME:

on average 1-2 weeks, although provided I have the free time I usually get them done within a couple days and sent out within a week. Feel free to ask if you have a specific deadline and I'll see what I can do

SHIPPING:

paintings will be shipped as a 'large letter' meaning shipping costs should be reasonable (on average £5 - £8, but actual cost depends on your country). Happy to ship internationally wherever I'm able. I am based in the UK.

TO ORDER:

shoot me a message (DM) on here!

ANY FURTHER QUESTIONS:

comment or send me a message/ask!

PLEASE NOTE:

these paintings work slightly differently to traditional commissions in that, since it normally takes me one sitting to paint them, I won't be asking for approval after every step. Instead it works as follows:

We decide on an eye and find references; confirm paper, colour palette, etc

I do the rough pencil sketch and show you to confirm

I paint the eye

Ta-dah! You recieve your painting

#my art #eyes #commissions

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wonderlanddreamer · 6 months ago

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Busy Being Shelbys.

[1919] Garrison Lane, Birmingham.

In the shadow of giants, six year old Lydia Shelby proves that courage comes in all sizes.

[Part of The Lydia Saga]

The cobbled streets of Small Heath were alive with the sounds of a bustling day, a cacophony that painted a vivid picture of daily life in this vibrant part of Birmingham. Market vendors bellowed their wares from behind wooden stalls, their voices competing with one another in a bid to attract customers. Freshly baked bread, ripe fruits, and an array of colourful fabrics were just some of the treasures on display. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh produce, roasted meats, and the occasional whiff of coal smoke from a distant factory.

Children darted through the maze of adults, their laughter ringing out like the sweetest music. They played games of tag and hide-and-seek, their joy unburdened by the worries of the adult world. The rhythmic clip-clop of horse-drawn carriages added a steady beat to the day's soundtrack, while the faint clink of glasses and the murmur of conversation drifted from the open door of the Garrison Pub, where patrons sought respite and camaraderie.

Among the children was Lydia Shelby, a striking figure with her bright blue eyes and unruly dark hair that framed her face in wild, untamed waves. She was a miniature replica of her older brothers, though her features still retained the softness of childhood that had long since been etched away by the harsh realities of life for her siblings.

Lydia was lost in her game of hopscotch, her delicate leather shoes tapping out a rhythmic pattern against the uneven cobblestones. Each leap and skip seemed to lift her further into a world of her own making, where the only things that mattered were the chalk-drawn squares and the simple joy of play. Her giggles rang out like tiny bells, echoing down the narrow street and adding a layer of innocence to the otherwise gritty surroundings.

The market's vibrant noise began to fade as an unspoken tension gripped the air. Conversations stilled, and the clatter of commerce dulled to a murmur. Heads turned and eyes widened as a sleek black car, polished to a mirror shine, rolled to a stop in front of the Garrison Pub. The vehicle, an imposing presence amidst the horse-drawn carts and pedestrian traffic, seemed to absorb the light, casting an eerie shadow over the cobblestones.

A hush fell over the street, the silence broken only by the creak of the car door as it opened. Billy Kimber emerged first, his sharp suit impeccably tailored, accentuating his lean, muscular frame. His eyes, cold and calculating, swept across the scene with the precision of a hawk. He moved with the confidence of a man who knew he commanded respect, his very presence a silent threat.

Behind him, his men followed, each one a mirror of their leader’s predatory demeanor. They fanned out, creating a semi-circle that seemed to cordon off the area, their eyes scanning for any sign of the Shelbys. Kimber's face was a mask of determination, his jaw set as he prepared to confront his rivals. The air seemed to thicken with each step they took, the tension rising like a gathering storm.

Lydia, oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere, continued her game. Her small figure, clad in a simple dress, darted from square to square, her laughter a stark contrast to the growing unease that enveloped the street. She was a picture of pure, untainted joy, her world still untouched by the darker elements that lurked in the shadows of Small Heath.

Kimber’s gaze landed on Lydia, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Lydia looked up from her hopscotch grid as the long, dark shadows of Kimber and his men fell over her game, casting a chill despite the warm day. Her bright blue eyes blinked up at the unfamiliar faces, her expression more curious than afraid. Her unruly hair bounced as she straightened up.

Billy Kimber, sensing the girl's defiance, allowed a slow, amused smirk to spread across his face. He crouched down slightly, bringing his sharp, predatory eyes level with Lydia's. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "A little girl all alone."

Lydia’s eyes narrowed slightly, her stance shifting as she planted her small hands firmly on her hips, a stance that was unmistakably Shelby. Despite her tender age, there was a steely resolve in her gaze, a flicker of the same fire that burned in her older brothers. She tilted her chin up defiantly. "I'm not alone," she said firmly, her voice steady and clear. "My brothers are inside."

Her unwavering gaze unsettled some of Kimber's men, their eyes darting between the girl and their leader. But Billy Kimber was not so easily intimidated, especially not by a child. He crouched down to her level, his eyes narrowing to scrutinize her more closely. "Do you know who I am, little girl?" he asked, his voice a low growl that usually elicited immediate submission.

Lydia nodded without hesitation. "You're Billy Kimber," she stated simply, her tone devoid of the fear that usually accompanied his name. "You run the races."

Kimber's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "That's right. And do you know why I'm here?"

Lydia shrugged, a gesture so casual it bordered on insolent, her small shoulders lifting and falling as if to say that his presence was of little consequence to her. "You're probably looking for my brothers. But they're busy."

One of Kimber's men chuckled, but it was a nervous, hesitant sound, the laughter of someone unsure whether to be amused or alarmed. Kimber's smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He was accustomed to fear and respect, not this calm defiance from a mere child. "Busy with what?" he asked, his patience thinning, his tone sharper now.

Lydia’s eyes met his unflinchingly, her voice carrying an edge of pride. "Busy being Shelbys," she replied, as if that explained everything. And in a way, it did.

Kimber's eyes darkened, his amusement giving way to a simmering menace. He extended a hand, intending to ruffle Lydia's hair in a gesture meant to assert his dominance rather than convey any genuine affection. His fingers, adorned with rings that gleamed ominously in the daylight, reached towards her.

But before he could make contact, Lydia took a deliberate step back, her eyes locked onto his with a mixture of defiance and warning. The movement was subtle, yet it spoke volumes. Her small frame seemed to grow taller, her presence more commanding, as if channeling the collective strength of her family.

"You shouldn't touch me," she said softly, her voice steady and clear. The softness of her tone contrasted sharply with the steel in her words. "My brothers wouldn't like it."

Kimber's hand hung in the air for a moment, frozen by the quiet authority in her voice. He slowly retracted it, his fingers curling into a fist at his side.

At that moment, the door of the Garrison swung open with a force that made the hinges groan in protest. Out stepped Thomas Shelby, flanked by Arthur and John, their presence immediately commanding the attention of everyone in the vicinity. The three brothers moved with a lethal grace, their expressions murderous, their postures taut with barely contained fury. The atmosphere grew dense with a palpable tension, forewarning of the storm that was about to break.

"Kimber," Tommy began, his voice slicing through the air like a blade of cold steel. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Each word was enunciated with an icy precision that sent shivers down the spine of anyone within earshot.

Billy Kimber straightened up, attempting to reclaim his swagger now that he was facing adults. His sneer was a thin veneer over the unease that gnawed at him. "Just having a chat with your little sister, Tommy," he said, his voice carrying a faux lightness that did nothing to mask the underlying threat.

Tommy's gaze turned to ice, his eyes narrowing with a deadly calm. He took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them. The intensity of his stare was enough to make even the bravest of men falter. "Keep away from her, get back in your fucking cars, and leave," Tommy said, his tone a low, menacing growl that left no room for misinterpretation.

Kimber laughed, but it was a hollow sound. He knew better than to push his luck with the Shelbys. "I'll see you soon, pikey," he said, but there was no real conviction in his words. With a sharp gesture, he signaled his men to follow him back to the car.

As the car sped away, its engine roaring and tires screeching, a cloud of dust hung in the air, slowly settling back onto the cobblestone street. The square, which had been a tense battleground moments ago, began to return to its usual hustle and bustle, though an undercurrent of unease still lingered.

Lydia stood frozen for a moment, watching the black car disappear around a corner. The adrenaline that had surged through her tiny frame started to ebb, leaving her legs shaky and her heart pounding in her chest. Her earlier bravado was giving way to a wave of relief.

She turned and ran to her brothers, her small feet making soft, rapid taps against the cobblestones. Tommy, Arthur, and John watched her approach, their expressions softening in unison. Tommy crouched down just as Lydia reached him, and with a gentle but firm grip, he lifted her into his arms. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against his chest.

"Good girl, Lydia," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the tension that still clung to the air. "You did us proud,"

Lydia's lips curved into a small, proud smile as she wrapped her arms around Tommy's neck, seeking the comfort and security that only her brothers could provide. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "I know," she said confidently, her voice a mix of lingering fear and newfound courage. "I was brave, just like you."

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting an amber glow over Small Heath as Tommy took one last vigilant sweep of the streets for any lingering danger. Satisfied, he turned and carried Lydia towards the Garrison, Arthur and John close behind. As they stepped inside, the familiar scent of whiskey and smoke enveloped them. Lydia, nestled in Tommy's arms, exchanged a glance with John, who walked just behind them. She smiled, a mix of relief and affection, and John responded with a warm grin, ruffling her hair gently. Inside the Garrison, with the comforting hum of conversations and clinking glasses around them, the weight of the day's tension began to lift, leaving them with a fleeting sense of tranquility.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders oc #lydia shelby #billy kimber #john shelby #arthur shelby #peaky blinders fic #shelby oc #peaky blinders fanfic

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