#while both knowing it's only for the night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leclerc-hs · 1 day ago

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bad grip - op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader summary: in which you can't seem to get oscar to crack OR you and oscar are in love, but only friends... warnings: friends to lovers au, angst, smut, jealousy, fluff?, NOT PROOFREAD, language, shitty writing?? word count: 5.4k author's note: hi hi hi!!! this was posted from my queue so hopefully everything goes accordingly! i still can't stop thinking of his head tilt in that one video from admin. so hot. maybe i need to write more of him....also like the win last weekend?? charles helmet smut will be on patreon august 1 sometime at night btw!! xoxo enjoy :))))

You’re snuggled up into the corner of the hotel room couch, drowning in the hoodie you stole from one of his suitcases when he wasn’t looking. And it smells like him. Like his cologne mixed with something clean beneath it.

The sleeves hang past your hands. And you pull one sleeve over your hands, bunching it between your fingertips.

One leg is pulled near your chest, while the other is stretched out, letting your toes brushing against the edge of his thigh. And he hasn’t moved. No, he’s just sitting there looking a little uneasy. Not sick. But in an antsy kind of way.

And he’s got this look in his eyes. Where his mind is on total overdrive but his mouth stays shut. Giving nothing away.

His fingers tap against his thigh in the same rhythm it always does when he’s lost in his head. Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Pause. Repeat.

The TV is playing some random show that neither of you are paying attention to. But you don’t really care. It’s just background noise.

You glance at him. And his face is calm, but you know better. Know him better.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you mutter, voice soft.

And he shrugs. But his face doesn’t change. “You’re loud enough for the both of us.”

You snort, hitting his leg with your toes, just to feel him push his leg back. “You’d miss me if I shut up for more than a few minutes, be honest.”

This gets you a look. One of those slow glances that starts near your mouth and ends at your eyes. And his mouth quirks up.

“You’re right,” he says, voice low. “Hate the peace and quiet.”

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing but smile growing. “Y’know, you’re so full of shit sometimes.”

His head finally hits the top of the back cushion behind him. Shoulders dropping a fraction. Relaxing. But he turns just enough to face you a bit more directly. Arm stretching along the back of the couch, fingers dangling behind your neck. But not touching you.

“I like when you talk,” he says. Like it’s so simple.

And it catches you off guard. Hits you right in the chest. You swallow hard.

“Are you flirting with me?” It comes out light. In a teasing manner as you raise a single brow. “Because it felt like you just did.”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Doesn’t look away either. Just watches you for a long moment.

And then he shifts just a little closer. Knee brushing against yours. And then his fingers stop tapping.

“Would it be so bad if I was?”

It’s not cocky. Not smug. And its not even really a question.

Your breath stutters a little, just for a fraction of a second. And you know he notices because his eyes flicker. Like he’s been wondering what you’d do with the truth.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips slowly. “I guess that depends on how good you are at it.”

And for the first time all night, he laughs. It’s not loud. More like a huff.

“Guess we’ll see,”

You walk into his hotel room before him, kicking your shoes off, and stretching your shoulders with a loud sigh. Like the night’s worn you out, which it has.

The door clicks shut behind you. “I might be dying. Like actually dying.”

Behind you, Oscar’s quiet. But you hear his movement as he slips his jacket off. Unbothered.

“Y’always eat like you’re Joey Chestnut or somethin’…in a eating competition,” He mutters, slinging the jacket on the back of a chair.

You spin around, in full righteous offense. A loud gasp. “I had two courses! And you had three…and you still stole half of my dessert!”

He doesn’t even so much as bat an eyelash at you. Just lifts a brow and folds his arms across one another. “Yeah, but I’m elegant. Y’looked like you were gonna vacuum the plate right up.”

Your jaw falls open. “You’re such a little shit when you’re full.”

His lips twitch upward. “M’always a little shit.”

You let out a groan. Theatrical and loud. Collapsing backward onto the edge of the bed. Arms spread wide. “I need a massage. Or a nap. Or death.” You shimmy up to the top of the bed, head on the pillow.

Oscar doesn’t respond. Just disappears into the bathroom with that usual silence of his. And you hear the faucet running a few moments later, the zip of the toiletry bag he always packs.

And your eyes fall shut for a few seconds. Then the sound of footsteps approaching, and you glance up. He’s standing there.

Placing a glass of water and two ibuprofen onto the nightstand beside the bed. Doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even bother to look at you for long. Just…leaves them there.

Your chest tightens. Just a little bit.

“Wow,” you smile. “Wanna tuck me in too? Maybe read a bedtime story?”

Oscar snorts, but sits at the edge of the bed. Crossing one of his legs onto the mattress without hesitation. “What do y’wanna hear? The story of a girl who inhales her dinner, talks too fast, and ends up losing her feet from stupid shoes?”

You laugh, reaching out to shove his shoulder. But it’s equivalent to punching a wall. He doesn’t move. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to chuck something at you.”

He grins. Then tilts his head just a little bit. “Your mascara’s smudged.”

You blink. And before you can reach your phone to check with the camera, he’s already leaning in, thumb brushing under your eye. Careful. Sweet.

“For someone who acts like he hates people,” you say. Throat tight. Eyes on him. “You’re kinda soft.”

Oscar shrugs one shoulder, fingers lingering against your cheek. “You’re not people.”

And it hits you a little harder than it should.

The sky is a bright orange as the sun sets over the water, stretching along the coastline just outside of Melbourne. From where you sit, the beach house…tucked up a hill behind you, looks kind of like some staged postcard. Windows open and curtains swaying from the ocean breeze.

Oscar is sprawled out beside you on a navy blue striped towel. Arms folded behind his head. Sunglasses sitting on the slope of his nose. And his hair is chaotic looking. But he looks calm. Is calm. The only kind of calm you see only outside of the paddock.

You’re sitting beside him. Heels dug into the sand, hands resting on the towel behind you, sitting you up. The heat of the sun clings to you.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re Australian,” you say. Turning your head to look at him.

And he cracks one eye open, not bothering to lift his head from the palm of his hands. “Because m’not riding a kangaroo or throwing a barbie?”

You snort. “Because you barely tan. You just burn. And you’re always like….not here…y’know?”

His lips twitch. “Keep talkin’ and see if I drive you back to the airport.”

But he doesn’t take the bait. Just closes his eyes again, like he’s unbothered.

You smile, looking back at the ocean. “Please. You love having me here.”

There’s a short-lived moment of silence. Just the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline heard.

“Yeah. I do.”

It’s a simple response. There’s no teasing tone. No smirk. Just a truth. And it sends a wave of warmth through your chest. Making your stomach flutter.

You look back at him. And he’s now propped up on a single elbow, his sunglasses pushed to the top of his head. And his eyes are on you. Just looks at you with that soft intensity he’s so good at.

Then, with a light touch, he’s reaching over and brushing the grains of sand of your knee. Hand lingering a second longer. Warm.

“Y’always this annoying on holiday?” He says, amused. A tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shrug your shoulders and turn to look back at the water. “Only for people I like.”

And it’s silent again for a few moments. Before he’s muttering, “Lucky me.”

And the funny thing is…he means it.

The kitchen is dim. The ocean breeze blows through the open patio door. The curtains around it moving gently along the light breeze.

You’re standing barefoot on the tile, swallowed in one of Oscar’s oversized hoodies. The same one you always steal.

It just fits the best you always claim. It falls mid-thigh, sleeves long and hanging past your hands as you fumble around making cups of tea. The kettle is heating on stove. Steam starting to flow from the spout.

Oscar walks in behind and doesn’t speak. He moves quietly…always has. He just steps up behind you, all calm and heat, reaching up over your head.

His chest brushes against your back. Light…but definitely intentional.

You keep your eyes fixed on the kettle as he opens the cabinet and grabs two mugs with one hand.

“Y’just love to do that, don’t you?” Your voice is teasing.

Oscar raises a brow as he hands you a mug. “Do what?”

You turn to face him.

Big mistake.

Because he’s fucking close. Closer than he should be. Like the kind of close where your chests are touching and the air is thick.

You tilt your chin up anyways. Eyes narrow. A smirk on your lips. “Hovering.” You say. “Acting like it’s not on purpose.”

And his eyes darken just a little bit. Steps a fraction closer. Smirking as he leans a hand on the counter beside your hip. Trapping you.

“M’just helping.”

“No.” You grin. “You’re flirting.”

His lips twitch. And he does’t deny it.

Just hands you a mug. Fingers brushing against yours.

“Am I doing a bad job?” He asks. A slight tilt of his head.

You blink. The kettle whistling behind you.

And you hold his gaze. Curling your fingers around the mug to keep yourself steady.

Then you step side, walking through the small opening he left. “Six out of ten.”

And he lets out a short laugh behind you. “Generous.”

You pour the steaming water into the mugs, and then head toward the patio door.

“Still not kissing me,” you call without giving him a look. “Points off.”

And he just watches you walk onto the patio.

You’ve met most of Oscar’s close friends by now. The few he lets into the smaller corners of his life. The people he trusts. And it’s easy to forget how long you’ve actually known each other.

The bar is dim and chill. A local band is playing some covers, lighting low, and a breeze is pushing through the open doors.

You’re standing in a circle with some of Oscar’s friends. Not a well made circle, but a circle nonetheless. You’re nursing a cocktail, laughter slipping easily. Your hand brushing against one of their arm’s as you make a point in the conversation, as you lean in a little too close to hear a joke.

Across the room, Oscar’s leaned against the bar with one of his friends.

Watching. Not in a weird way. Just observant. Like he always has been.

His arms are folded across one another. A beet bottle in hand, his thumb tapping against the bottle. And he seems quieter tonight. Still engaged in the conversations, still smiling. But his eyes haven’t left you for long. And every time someone touches your arm, or makes you laugh just a little too much, you swear you see his jaw clench.

You try to ignore it. Chalk it up to just Oscar being in a mood.

Until some guy you’ve never seen before slips into the circle. Tall. Tan. Definitely a few drinks in. And he slides in like he knows someone. Which maybe he does…and then says ajoke that has everyone laughing. Even you.

And when you laugh, he leans in closer. His shoulder brushing yours.

Totally casual and meaningless. At least it is…to you.

But not to Oscar.

Because he’s beside you before the guy even finishes his next sentence.

“She’s good,” Oscar says, voice smooth. “Thanks.”

The guy blinks. Confused. “Just being friendly, mate.”

Oscar smiles. But its not really polite. It’s sharp and tight. Barely reaches his eyes. “So am I.”

It’s not really a threat. But it sure as hell lands like one.

The guy steps back. His hands raised in mock surrender. “Alright, alright.” He mutters something before heading back to the bar. Disappearing.

You turn to look at Oscar. “That was dramatic.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even glance at you right away. His eyes are still trained on the guy’s back, following his exit.

When he finally turns his head, his eyes sweep down to yours. Slow. Steady.

“Don’t like people touching what’s mine,” He says casually.

“Yours?” You echo. Voice quieter than you mean it to be.

Oscar breathes out a low huff. Runs a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he mutters. “I meant…”

“No.” You step closer to him. Voice calm. “You meant what you said.”

He looks at you. Like really looks at you.

And for once, the silence isn’t calm. It’s tense.

“Yeah,” he says. Voice a whisper. “Yeah, I did.”

You don’t answer right away. Just hold his gaze. Then slowly, reach for his half-empty drink. Sip it without even asking.

His eyes stay fixed on you.

“M’not a thing you can own, Osc.” Your voice is teasing. “But you can keep hovering if it makes you feel better.”

He hums. His hand reaching for your waist and settling there like he’s been aching to do it. His thumb slips along the waistband of your pants.

It’s possessive. It’s soft. It’s him.

“I wasn’t asking,” he says.

The rest of the night is still warm as you walk side by side with Oscar, neither of you really saying much.

You haven’t really needed to.

“Your friends are fun,” you say eventually. “Even if they told way too many embarrassing stories about you.”

Oscar glances over, but only for a few seconds before looking back toward the street. A smirk pulling on his lips. “Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it.”

You grin and nudge his shoulder. “Not my fault young Oscar was so chaotic.”

He laughs. A short one. But real.

Another few steps of silence pass. And then his voice breaks it.

“I didn’t like that guy touching you tonight.”

You turn your head to look at him. Still walking. And your breath catches.

He’s already looking at you. Eyes serious. Steady. But there’s a faint blush showing on his cheeks that crawls down to the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah, I noticed.” You mutter. “Got all alpha male on him.”

Oscar breathes through his nose. Not really a laugh nor a sigh. “Did I?”

You nod, turning to look back at the pavement ahead. “Yeah. It was all so don’t touch her or I’ll kill you energy.”

He’s quiet for a single step.

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

You freeze. Stop walking.

And he stops too. Turns to step closer to you. So close that your space becomes his too. So close that you can smell the faint linger of his cologne.

Your heart hammers in your chest.

“I didn’t,” you whisper back.

His gaze is locked on your eyes for a brief moment. But then flickers down, trailing your face like he’s trying to memorize everything about you. And his eyes land on your mouth for a moment too long, before looking back at your eyes.

“Osc,” you say.

Its a warning. A dare. A plea.

But he exhales hard. Like he’s winded. Before lifting his hand slowly to your jaw.

“I want to,” he says, tilting his head back for a moment with his eyes squeezed shut. “Like…really fuckin’ want to.”

His thumb brushes your cheek. And you’re leaning into it.

“But if I…” He swallows. “If I kiss you now…I wont…I won’t be able to pretend after.”

You understand. Fingers twitching at your sides. You want to reach for him. Let your mouth crash into his and finally…finally see what it’s like when he stops holding back.

But you don’t.

Because you know once the line is crossed, there will be no going back. And that means something.

So instead you give him a slow nod. “Okay…not tonight.”

His jaw clenches. But he nods.

And then you walk again. Slower. Your hand slipped into his. And he’s gripping it like he’s been waiting for years to do this.

The house is still. Quiet.

The kind that only exists before any coffee is made.

You wake slowly, limbs heavy. Twisted in the same blanket Oscar threw over you last night when you passed out on the couch in the middle of a movie. The blanket tangled around your legs, an arm slung over your head to block the light filtering through the curtains.

You blink a few times. Trying to recollect your thoughts. Wondering where you are, what time it is, and why your back fucking hurts.

“You snore a lot.”

You groan, rubbing at your eyes. “I do not!”

Oscar laughs. “You definitely did last night.”

You sit up, the blanket slipping down to your waist in the process. Your hair’s a mess, eyes still half-lidded. And you glare down at him. Because he’s sitting on the floor in front of you. His legs stretched out and back resting against the couch.

His hair is almost as crazy as yours. Wearing the same hoodie he pulled on after you got back from the bar last night. Sleeves pushed up. Mug in his hand.

“It’s too early to fight.”

Oscar lifts the mug to his lips. “Wouldn’t win anyway,” He says with a small smirk. “You’re a menace without coffee.”

Your heartbeat rises. Stupidly. At how close he is. And not just physically. But because he always seems to be near when you wake up. Like he doesn’t want you to wake to an empty room.

You look at the mug. “Is that mine?”

He holds it out without a word.

Your fingers brush his as you wrap both hands around the warm mug. Sighing into the first sip…because it’s perfect. Just how you like it.

You glance at him. “Y’know…you’d make a good housewife, Osc.”

He looks at you with a flat look, but it’s soft. “You’re on the couch I got. Drinking coffee I made.”

You smile over the rim. “And you still won’t kiss me.”

It slips out. Fast. Almost too easy.

You don’t even look at him when you say it. Just bit your lip, pretending its a joke.

But he doesn’t laugh. And he doesn’t let the silence enter either.

“Don’t.” His voice serious. “Don’t say it like that.”

You blink. “Like what?”

“Like I didn’t want to.”

You nod slowly. The mug right before your lips. Chest tight. “Then why didn’t you?”

He exhales through his nose. Runs a hand through his hair. Looking at the ceiling like there might be some answer hidden up there. “Because you matter,” He says. “And I’ve never cared this much before.”

You scoot down the couch. Knees brushing his shoulder so that he can lean into them if he wants to. He does.

You sip your coffee. “M’not going anywhere, Osc.”

And maybe that’s all he needs to hear. Because a second later, his head drops to your knee. Like he’s been wanting to lean into your touch for too long.

It’s late. The kind that makes hotel rooms feel lonely. Another country, another race.

The curtains are closed, a crack of light entering in the middle.

You’re sitting on the edge of his bed. One of his hoodies, like always, draped over you.

Across the room, Oscar sits in the chair near the window. Legs stretched and ankles crossed. Shoulders loose, but he’s not relaxed. His eyes are on you.

“You okay?” You ask.

He nods. Shrugs. “Just tired.”

You hum in agreement. But something isn’t right. Not with the way his jaw’s clenched. And how he’s acted all night long. With his clipped responses.

“You’ve been distant.” You say.

“I know.”

He doesn’t deflect. Doesn’t argue.

And it lands harder than you expect.

You look down at your fingers, twisting the rings on your fingers. Throat tight. “Is it me?”

His body shifts. Like he wants to reach for you, but won’t.

“No,” he says. Quick. Firm. “Never you.”

And you nod. Even though it still aches.

“Feels like me,” your voice small.

Oscar breathes hard, tipping his head fall agains the back of the chair. Closing his eyes for a moment. And when they open again, they’re gentle.

“It’s what you make me feel,” He says. “M’not used to it.”

He shifts forward. Resting his elbows onto his knees. Fingers laced between them.

“Especially now that we’ve…uh…addressed it,” He adds. A smile tugging at his lips. “Being around you makes everything else…” He trails off.

Searching for the right words. But they don’t come easily.

“Harder.’

You blink, a little confused. “Harder?”

He nods, eyes trailing toward the window.

“To focus. To race. To pretend that I’m not thinking about you all the time.”

You move quietly. Taking in his words. Cross the room and sink down to the floor in front of him.

“I don’t want to make things harder for you,” you whisper.

He lets out a small breath.

“It’s not your fault. Never your fault.” He’s looking at you. Eyes dark. “You just make me want things…that I don’t know if I’m allowed to have.”

You miss Oscar.

The afterparty is buzzing. Music hammering against the walls. McLaren finished a race with a 1-2 podium finish. The kind of result that earns drinks and a late night of dancing.

Your standing near the balcony doors, letting the breeze cool your skin. A half finished drink lingers in your hand. The condensation slipping onto your fingers.

And Oscar hasn’t spoken to you all night. At least, not properly.

No banter or smirk. No actual conversation.

You told yourself you wouldn’t care. That he’d never make a move anyway.

And then Lando appears. Sliding into the space beside you with a crooked grin and a beer in his hand.

“Didn’t thin you’d be all the way out here,” he says.

You glance at him, giving a faint smile. “Just observing. It’s so hot in there.” You turn to look at Oscar.

Still leaned against a wall, surrounded by people. Laughing with the engineers. Relaxed.

Lando follows your gaze. “Y’always stare at him like that?”

You scoff. “What?”

“He’s not even paying attention, y’know. But I am.”

You grin, knowing he’s just being a playful little shit. “But I am.”

You look at him. Really look. And he’s close. Eyes warm, teasing.

“That’s the line you’re sticking with?” You tilt your head. Smiling.

He grins back. “Is it working?”

And the worst part about it…is that it kind of is. At least for a brief second. Because Lando is easy in a way Oscar never is. Open. Bright.

So you lean in, just a smidge. Let yourself enjoy the way Lando looks at you because why not? Let him flirt. Let his eyes trail your face, flick to your mouth. Let him step closer.

And you feel the weight of Oscar’s stare from across the room. Heavy. Like a hand resting on your shoulder.

And when you glance Oscar’s way, he’s watching. Not smiling. Eyes dark. Like he’s debating whether he should walk over and intervene. But he doesn’t. Because that’s not his way.

No. He’s too calm and calculated. Too careful when it comes to you.

So you head back towards the center of the room with Lando a few minutes later, laughter filling the air.

You spend the next hour trying to focus. Let Lando spin a story in your ear. Let him twirl you around. But your eyes keep scanning the room. Call it a habit.

And then you finally see him standing not too far away. Alone. Eyes locked on you like he’s been waiting for you to notice. Waiting for you to move.

Lando catches your stare, urges you to go talk to him. And Oscar doesn’t move until you’re only a few inches from him.

“I saw that,” he says. Voice low.

You tilt your head. “What?”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Lando.”

You shrug. “He was just being nice.”

But his gaze sharpens. “He was all over you. Touching you.”

You close the space between you. His gaze drops to your mouth for a half a second.

“Okay,” you say. Soft. “So what?” Are you gonna stand there and sulk?”

You take another step. His breath catches.

“Or are you going to actually do something about it?”

He leans in. Slow. “M’trying to not fuck this up.”

“And what if you already are?” You whisper.

He freezes. Because he knows your right.

Knows that if he keeps holding back too long, keeps pretending, and keeps letting moments pass… that it will push you away.

You don’t even make it to the end of the hallway. Not even close to it in fact.

Because Oscar’s hand is wrapping firmly around your wrist. Stopping you.

And you turn, startled by the grasp. But he’s right there. And you feel the way his chest rises and falls too fast. The tension cracking.

His fingers slide lower until he’s lacing them with yours. And then pulls you back into him. You stumble just a bit, but he’s steadying you. Guiding you until your pressed back into the wall.

You gasp.

“Don’t do that again,” he says. Voice stripped of calm. Serious.

“Do what?” You play dumb.

“Lando.” His jaw clenches. Eyes flickering with something possessive in them.

He drops your hand.

“Flirt with him,” he grunts. “Letting him fuckin’ touch you. Letting him look at you like..”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop acting like you don’t want me.”

And it hits him hard. Right in the center of his chest.

He steps closer. So close that you can feel his breath hit your face. A hand bracing on the wall beside your head.

“Y’think I don’t want you?” His voice is torn. “I’ve wanted you since the first time you wore my hoodie. Since you sat on my couch like you belonged there years ago. And every day since..it’s just gotten worse.”

Your throat tightens.

“Oscar,” you breathe.

But it’s too late.

His mouth crashes into yours like he’s fucking starved for it. It’s not slow or careful. It’s everything poured into a kiss that’s hot and all consuming.

You gasp into him and he outright groans at the sound. Hands finally grabbing for your hips.

He presses himself into you. Mouth moving like he’s making up for all the times he didn’t touch you. Didn’t kiss you.

And when he finally pulls back he looks wrecked.

“I’ve been trying to be careful,” He presses his forehead against yours. “But you…” He starts to shake his head. Fingers curling deeper into the skin of your waist. “Y’know exactly how to push all of my fuckin’ buttons, yeah?”

You smile into his lips. Head spinning just a little bit. “And you’re just figuring that out now?”

He grunts but then kisses you again. Rougher. More of a claim than anything.

And he’s done holding back.

Oscar’s hands are on you the very second the hotel door clicks shut.

His hands grip your waist like he wants them attached there forever. Like he can’t bare to ever be apart from you again. His mouth crashes onto yours mid-step as he walks you backward without ever breaking the kiss. It’s rough and relentless. His hands slipping under your dress in the process.

You gasp when your legs hit the edge of the bed, and then he’s pushing you down on the mattress with a soft push.

He follows. Doesn’t even speak. Just groans at the sight of you beneath him. Like that alone is enough to undo him completely.

“Should’ve done this weeks…years ago,” he mutters. Voice rough and full of need. “Should’ve fucked you the second you started looking at me like that.”

You dig your fingers into his back as he leans forward and kisses you again. Harder. Like he wants to fuse your mouths together.

And he only pulls back to drag your dress over your head. He barely glances at it as he throws it somewhere in the room. Probably onto the floor. His eyes stay locked on you.

He undresses himself fast. And you barely get a full look at him before he’s crawling back over you.

But even in that blur of movement and speed, you see the way he trembles.

His fingers find your thighs, curling one of your legs over his hip. Grinding down against the damp lace between your legs.

“Still gonna tease me?” Your voice is shaky.

He laughs, rolling into you. “Not teasing,” he mutters. “You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

You moan loudly.

And then his hand slips between your thighs, pushing the lace aside. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing slow circles that make your hips jolt.

He leans forward, near your ear. “Flirt with Lando again…” He drags his tongue hotly over your neck. “And I’ll fuck you where he can hear you next time.”

You arch under him. Shaking.

He groans. Deep. Uneasy. “Fuck, you like that?” His voice drops lower. “Y’want me to make you loud, hm? Let people hear who you really want?”

“Fuck, Osc…” you gasp, but it breaks out into a moan as soon as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Ripping them down your thighs in a fluid motion.

Then he’s between your legs.

Pushing into you with a stretch that burns in the best fucking way. Your mouth falls open quietly. Just the gasp of him finally being in you.

His head falls to your shoulder, shuddering once he’s fully seated inside. “Fucking fuck..” He barely gets his words out. “Y’feel so fuckin’ good.”

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist. Digging your nails into his back. And he starts to move. Hard. Deep.

His hands fist into your hair, holding you in place beneath him. And his mouth presses hot open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Claiming you.

“Y’think we’re still just friends?” He grunts. Nipping at your ear. “Tell me we’re not.”

You don’t answer. Can’t answer.

So he drives his cock into you harder. Meaner.

“Fucking say it,” He grunts. And he sounds wrecked. “Say we’re not fucking friends anymore while I’m buried in this cunt.”

You whimper. Breathless.

“No,” you cry out. “No…we’re not…fuck fuck…we’re not friends.”

He thrusts deeper, every stroke hitting that spot deep in your belly just fucking right.

You cry out, arching into him. Fingers fisting the fabric of the sheets.

And you do. Over and over. Until your cunt clamps down around him and you’re unraveling. Crying out into the space between his neck and shoulder. Shaking.

He groans. His thrusts losing rhythm as you milk his cock. Spasming around him.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He yelps. Following seconds later, hips stuttering. A tumble of curses falling out of his mouth as he presses deep into you one final time before releasing into you.

Your chest is still rising and falling. Oscar hasn’t moved much. Still inside of you. Breathing into your shoulder.

You’re staring at the ceiling, content.

“I meant what I said,” he mutters. His thumb reaching out to brush your cheek. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

You nod. “I know.”

He leans in. Presses careful kisses to your cheek. Your forehead. Your lips

“No more pretending, yeah?”

"Yeah."

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #op81 x you #op81 x y/n #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #f1 x you #f1 imagines

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shidoglazer · 2 days ago

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domestic goals with itoshi sae <3

｜ first to sleep wins!

truth be told, sae only made up this game to fix your sleep schedule, but now its seriously a competition between you two. how does it work? either you or sae grab the most boring book you could find, cuddle up in bed together— usually you laying on his chest, and you both take turns reading one page. around the 40th-ish page, he’ll find you murmuring and slurring on the words, “and.. ‘nd the high courf.. he..” the book gets shut with a soft thud as he turns off the night lamp, “you win. sleep well.” and even though he’s sure you can barely understand what he’s saying, theres always a soft whine or hum to acknowledge him.

｜battle of the compliments

it happens too often for it not be considered as your daily routine at this point. you just cant stop complimenting him after his match, and he finds it hard to interrupt since 1,) he can’t deny that he loves being soaked in your attention and 2), your rambling does not have any full stops or pauses to let him say something. so really, he had to get creative to make sure you remember to breathe.

“your pass was so badass! i mean, i swear i actually saw a rainbow pass through like, it was beaming if you know what i mean?! and and and, when you completely shut down your teammates that were insulting you-”

“if another form of life hypothetically took over the world and picked me to present one source of life as a reason to not destroy us, i’d present you, no hesitation.”

“…what?” “what?”

“what did you say?” “hm? good question. lets go eat.”

“oh yeah! lets go!”

｜look into the damn camera

he’s the type to never look into the camera when he’s taking photos with you. not because he wants to hide from the media or angry fans, but because he’s busy looking at you. the little winky faces you do, the way one of your legs lift up as you lean onto him to make sure you don’t fall, or when you stretch the beautifulest smile he’s ever seen on your face— how can he look into some camera and not this living work of art right beside him?

while the intention is cute, when you’re looking through the photos and see that he once again did not look into the camera, you’d reach up to slap his head, “look into the damn camera!” “ack!— okay, jeez.”

in the end, you’ve got a sae staring dead into the camera like he’d rather be anywhere but here. you ended up posting the ones he was looking at you anyways.

a/n nyanyanyanya i love domestic goals

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buryhny · 23 hours ago

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JUNO ( the promise you kept )

"One of me is cute, but two, though?"

➥ rundown ; One night, you pour your heart out to your best friend about your perfect dream life, the kind of love with babies and warm homes and not having to do life alone but no one ever stayed long. He listens. And then he promises to help you find the life you want. another one night, one kiss, one mistake- maybe. Until it isn’t. Until two pink lines show up. Until you’re carrying the future you once only whispered about. You don’t know what happens next. But he’s still here. And maybe, just maybe… he might be the one you always dreamt of.

genre ; best friends to lovers | accidental pregnancy au

✦ Jungkook x y/n ✦ word count ; 21k | 18+ ✦ one-shot | part of the short n' sweet series ( coming soon! )

warnings - contains smut

"I'm exhausted!!" you whine, throwing yourself on the couch. Jungkook closes the door behind him and chuckles. "The party wasn't that bad, you drank a load of shit." You scoff at his words, hands reaching out to hug the cushion. "it was, bad. wasn't what i wanted after a terrible day at work."

It's fall, and everyone's busy preparing for their weddings. As a wedding planner yourself, it's hectic. One after the other, it's endless during this season. For someone like you, it's a lot more dreadful, considering how you hate the thought of marriage being single....yet. Jungkook plops on the couch beside you and chuckles.

"Which one made out this time?" you throw your legs on his lap which he welcomes, rubbing your swollen feet habitually. "i question my job every single day, although I've been doing this for 5 years now. why? just....why must i see all that?

he threw himself on her, like, threw! himself. I'm not exaggerating, i almost puked from my nose." you groan, pushing your head into the cream cushion. Jungkook looks at you and sighs. he witnesses this every other day and he can't relate to you since his job is his everything. he loves his photography, and his camera is his baby. it's the one time he feels free. "ever consider doing something else?" "you ask this, every time i complain about my job-" "what else do you want me to say?! your job's awful, so you need to find something you'd actually love doing!!"

he defends himself, laughing at how mad you get when he questions you. you sit upright, looking at him with tired eyes and flushed cheeks. "you know why i hate this job...." he gazes at you, nodding. his eyes soften when you say that, "you also know why i keep doing it, even if i could leave this dumb job and find something that is not as exhausting and sickening as it is." Jungkook looks at your feet, caressing it gently as you speak. "this is not the job's fault-" "it's you feeling lonely-"

he completes the sentence for you. The silence lingers, the hissing of the air conditioner is loud, and you keep looking at him, while biting the insides of your mouth. "yup!" You toss yourself back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, pitying yourself. Jungkook glances at you, he lets his head fall back on he couch. "i'm freaking 28 with no ring and kids." "That's a flex." "yeah until my uterus stops producing eggs and menopause hits me at 30," he laughs. "it's not that serious, bubs."

"i'm just saying!! it feels like it." The laughter fills the room, you feel his stomach rumbling at the joke you said. "Adoption is always available. Choose your fighter! boy, girl? blonde, brunette? blue eyes, green eyes? you've got choices. And damn, we could raise a baby together. imagine that!?" "yeah what? not experience pregnancy when that is the literal gift of being a woman? and fuck no, i'm not adopting a kid with you. we both can never handle kids together."

you always got an answer at the top of your tongue, Jungkook cracks up at how fast you respond. "yeah no shit, i wanna see your pregnancy nose." "oh my god! just not that-" you both giggle, remembering Mina. your mutual friend who's been in the little friend group along with Jimin and Taehyung since you all were babies. A thought hits your head, so you sit up, pulling your legs to cross them.

Jungkook knows your mind is brewing something up, so he turns to face you, waiting for you to speak. "do you ever....just think of experiencing pregnancy? like....when i get pregnant, would you be excited?" he rolls his eyes. "excited? Bubs i would run down the lane, knock on each and every neighbour's door, and gift them gold if you ever tell me you're pregnant." you laugh, hitting him on the chest.

"why is no man good enough? Every time i think of getting pregnant by a man, i drop the whole idea... it's scary, don't you think?" you murmur, playing with your fingers, maybe it's the alcohol in the system that makes you speak this. And Jungkook is all ears, allowing you to let loose. "i imagined a whole future with my exes.. none of them stayed. I've had 4 boyfriends-" "dicks." he whispers under his breath.

"i'm so glad they left. they showed me that they could never be a father. so i'm glad but- will i ever be able to find someone i could settle with. because at this point in life, all i want is to settle down. i don't wanna be working my ass off, i wanna be a housewife, have kids and... just live that traditional life. There are so many ways to live life, but i want this, i want the whole- waiting for my hubby to come home at night while i manage the house and kids, get excited to cook dinner for him- instead I'm just...working all day long. For 5 years of my life, longer than that- i just don't wanna count my barista era, that was...lousy."

he chuckles while you sniff. almost in tears at your perfect dream life. "i'm tired, i wanna move on. move to the...next stage." you whisper. Jungkook feels heavy, looking at you playing with your fingers. Jungkook has known this for years, it's been your dream since you were 7. you always wanted to have a family at a young age but it never worked out, none of the men you dated liked the idea of a family at a young age, They said they wouldn't be able to handle the stress,

"do you know how expensive children are?" two guys said. you were never able to find a man who met your needs and it constantly left you worrying about your life and future. you let go of it and didn't realise time flew. You're not 23 anymore. it comes to a point when you're done and finally today, you met your meltdown point. you just had to let it out of your mind even though you didn't want to show anyone that this bothered you, so much.

"i'm scared..." you start again after a long silence. "i'm scared of two things, if it will be too late and...if i will never be able to find someone who.. would want to create a family with me together." you allow yourself to cry. You've been keeping this inside of you for quite a long time. Jungkook didn't know you had such thoughts, he didn't notice how much you kept inside you.

he feels angry that he didn't see behind your mask. he pulls you towards him, hugging your shoulders tight. you cry inside his chest, his warmth only making things worse. "hey bub.." he whispers, caressing your hair. he feels so cosy, like a blanket. "it's gonna be alright. everything is for the best, okay? you're exactly where you're supposed to be, whatever has happened and will happen is all for the best. There's nothing as being too late, you're gonna be married someday, you're gonna have as many babies as you like and you're gonna have the life you want... "

he speaks. "you have to trust yourself. good times will come soon, i promise..." his words heal your tears and clouded mind. "i'm always with you, i'm always gonna be with you. i promise that i'll give you the life you dream." you raise your head to look at him. he looks down at you, and oh...does his heart melt at the sight. your nose is runny like a child's, your eyes are filled with tears, your eyelashes long and beautiful, carrying tears drops like the leaves hold the rain drops.

he notices your red cheeks and puffed lips, pink.. much much pink than the lip gloss you wore today. "you promise me?" you mumble and he nods, cupping your face as he takes in this...sight. his eyes look into yours a little too much, that he feels a little jittery but he keeps it cool.

"i promise bubs. you know i never break promises." Sometimes you think why there aren't men like your best friend. you would do anything to find someone like him. Anything. you push your head inside his chest again, sniffing at his words. The alcohol in your system is slowing down now, leaving you drowsy but you don't wanna sleep. You just want to stay close to him, like this, all night.

You and Jungkook have always been close, too close, some might've said. Moments like this remind you of things people used to say. "It's always him with you, isn't it? Your precious best friend." They'd laugh, sometimes bitter, sometimes just tired... "Why don't you just be with him already?" they'd say when fights broke out.

You didn't understand the weight of those words back then. Not until they left.

When you were in relationships, you knew your lines. Jungkook did too.

Or at least, you thought you did.. you both weren't physically close, like this. but he was always competitive to your boyfriends even when you swore that Jungkook is harmless, he's just protective of you that's just his nature being friends with you since a child. you both barely met each other or texted because you knew your significant other did not like the constant contact you had with your best friend and it's fair, you understood it, Jungkook did too.

he would understand the change of atmosphere whenever he's in the same room as your boyfriend, you didn't hug him the first time you see him, you didn't share dinner with him when everyone sat down to eat, while camping and.. you were always trapped in PDA something Jungkook knows you're uncomfortable of. he finds it funny how your boyfriends didn't know that or maybe they did but they never cared.

Somehow, the men you dated always stood in sharp contrast to your best friends- Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok. Your friends carried this effortless ease about them, never too concerned with their surroundings or trying to prove anything. They were just themselves, no matter the place or company. But the guys you picked? They were always on edge, like they had something to prove, like they needed to dominate the room. It never quite sat right with your group, but they never called it out.

Because that was just your type. You liked your men... different. it took a long time for you to get back with Jungkook, pouring out your heart to him took some time because you would always be reminded of how arguments would rise between your exes and you, how baseless they were and how they always revolved around Jungkook. Sometimes looking at your best friend would make you sad, he's the purest human you've met, how can anyone hate him? but you're glad no one's coming between your friendship, there's peace and.. comfort in his embrace.

somehow Jungkook and you have grown closer in many ways than before, it's also the only way you can complete your physical needs. your lack of physical human contact often leaves you feeling blue and sick. when you're home alone, you feel lonely but when Jungkook's around, no matter where you are, that's home. he's your best friend, best friend for life. and Jungkook feels the same towards you too.

"you're so fucking annoying." you whisper under your breath, making him giggle. "why so?" you take sometime to reply, Jungkook assumes you're asleep, but you were reconsidering if you should say it, your mind is too hazy to think much so you speak. "i'll never be able to find someone like you." Jungkook freezes, he gets flustered, he halts caressing your hair for a second as he gulps. "if only god made one more like you, i probably would be cooking dinner for him right now."

you laugh, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "you're- drunk. really drunk." Jungkook chuckles nervously, he looks down at you, the outline of your face. for a moment. he felt like someone had altered the wires of his brain when you said those words. you speak gibberish when you're tipsy and he loves that about you. everything that you try to hide within yourself, spills out like tea and he's thankful for that, at least that way he knows what's bothering you and keeping you up at night.

the silence is comforting, his warmth is soothing and you've dozed off in his arms while he's stuck inside his thoughts. he'd never felt so burdened in life, he'd always had one goal and that was his profession which he earned, nothing more. he was never worried about marriage, had no wish to be married before 35 or at all.

so relating to you was not something he could do. but he was an empath, he understands, he always tries to and when it comes to you, he's more than ever understanding. growing up with you his whole life, he knows every little thing about you and if he's being honest, he's quite surprised you've not settled yet.

he would never tell that to you or any other soul, but he does not get what the underlying problem is. How come none of your exes were ever good at this? Isn't that something you've always wanted in a man, someone capable of raising kids and building a family? and... you're a sweetheart, you can never be the problem, he bets his life on it. but now.. he must find someone for you, the right man who'll build your perfect life. Jungkook promised to help you, he's determined to find your dream life.

kook : bubs don't take ages doing your makeup

y/n : stfu i'm not gonna take hours, i'm just doing my lips

kook : Jimin's on his way so be down in 5

you put on a layer of clear gloss over your lip tint, pressing some highlighter on the tip of your nose and inner corners of your eyes and you're done. you take your shoulder bag, jacket and dash to the elevator. Jimin's gonna fight you if he stays any longer than 2 mins and to your luck, he'd not arrived yet.

"ma'am!!! why so sexy today?" Jimin whistles as you get inside his Benz, he looks at you with a smirk, batting his eye lashes. "i'm always sexy, darling." he scoffs and drives. "kook's gonna kill you. no shit, he's gonna kill me for letting you get into to the car in that skirt." you groan, throwing your head back on the seat. "he always acts like a dad, it can be annoying at times." you brush your hair a bit more and apply more gloss as you're almost close to the restaurant. "he's protective of you."

"i know but... i just wanna enjoy okay. my periods finally over, i was in the mood to dress up. i wanted to look fucking extra." the two of you walk inside, meeting up with the gang. Taehyung gets up from his seat to give you a tight hug and a kiss on your cheek. "holy shit y/n, you look hot." "thanks tae." Mina and Hoseok wave at you, you notice how tired the two of them look, they really needed this dinner. Handling triplets is not for the easy.

"hello to you too, kook." you murmur, pushing him inside the booth. He leaned back in the booth, arms crossed, tongue pressing into his cheek. Quiet. "what?" you ask and he closes his eyes. "stop being a dad!!" "i told someone to come by to meet you, now how do i tell him to go back?" you deadpan at his words. "someone to meet me?" he glances at the entrance door and back to you. "yeah, a friend, co worker." "what? why?" you're confused, why would he do that? he's never done that before.

"stop asking questions. i'm thinking of ways to cancel this blind date, i'm not, letting him see you like this, i might break his nose if he touches you in anyway." "what's wrong with this outfit?" you're lowkey getting mad at him but you don't wanna show, you see how irritated Jungkook looks. "he's gonna make you come by his place tonight for sure, i mean- look at you, nobody can just sit still and not take you to their place after a dinner." you gape at him, hitting his shoulder.

"are you trynna say i look like a slu-" "guys!!!! stop fighting like kids, please order your meals." you side eye Jungkook (who does the same) and pick your menu. "i'd get the double double spicy meal, with a diet pepsi, thank you." "and i'll get the double-double crispy chicken with a diet coke please." Jungkook says, making you roll your eyes with his order, you know he orders the same meal as yours, he fights you for the last piece after he's done with his own, he keeps hunting to finish yours and he hates coke, he's just trying to be different in arrogance when his order is always the same as you.

so typical of him.

he can be petty sometimes, like you're not in a bikini, it's a black denim mini skirt that stops just a little over your thighs, a lace trimmed, corset style top with an oversized leather blazer and high combat boots. its simple and cute. Jungkook does not think it's cute, your top and blazer are in deep red. your makeup is simple, just clean girl makeup with a dark red lip liner and clear gloss on a hint of lip tint.

your outfits never fail to eat but they can eat him up sometimes, this one. This one's different, it tops the list of all the outfits you've ever worn. and he's afraid he's gonna punch someone tonight if they think about touching you. "how's the little ones, it's been a while i last saw them." you ask Mina. "oh they're doing okay, they had a fever last week and it was chaos. we had a hard time handling them."

Hoseok nods as he gives his wife a smile. yes, they were friends, best friends for years until they eventually figured Mina had feelings for Hoseok and... it was mutual, Hoseok was just good at hiding his part. when the meals arrive, you all talk about everything that's been happening while having your burgers and fries.

Jungkook sips on your Pepsi, he doesn't even bother to act sneaky, he just does it and you don't say anything because meh, you both always share. you see him picking on his burger too, his fault, his ego. "hey why are you drinking mine?" "cause it tastes better, give me a bite of your burger too." "stfu Jungkook, you know you don't order crispy chicken! don't ask mine now." you both fight like kids until you cool down. "who's this guy anyway?" you ask when everyone else is busy in the convo.

"Park Deong Ju." "mmm, like his name." Jungkook nods and that's it, you both don't talk much, keep giving each other side glances and putting out your tongues. you all get going to the club, when you get off the seat, Jungkook gets a better look at your outfit and sighs. he hates being protective, it fucks up his mind and mood too. why can't be he like Jimin or Taehyung? they hype you up and make you happy, but he? he can't do any of that. cons of being a best-est fucking friend.

he walks beside you, as you both get into his car. Jimin and Taehyung go together, of course, Mina and Hoseok go together so you go with Jungkook, as usual. "you're annoying the crap out of me, can you just- be normal??" you say after minutes of silence. "okay ma'am, i'm normal!" "you're not ...Jungkook normal, please be weird and stupid." This makes him laugh involuntarily, he's mad but he laughs at what you said. "tf do you want me to do!" "i don't know, just anything, not this, i don't want a dad, i want a friend." "fine, god damn!" '

he turns the music louder, both of you rolling your eyes before breaking out in a laughter. as you arrive to the club, a guy is waiting outside the entrance with his phone. Jungkook receives a phone call and he looks around, then raises his hand when he finds his friend. "hey man." they both hug, you awkwardly stand next to Jungkook. "this is y/n, my best friend i was talking about-"

Jungkook introduces you to the guy. he's tall, brunette and...hot? he wears a polo t-shirt with linen jeans and loafers, which...may not be the best club outfit but at least he looks hot. "hi, i'm y/n!" you handshake him and he smiles. "i'm Deong Ju. nice to meet you, i must say you..look stunning." you blush and nod with a thanks. Jungkook smiles tightly, of course you look stunning, he managed to see you in the best outfit you've ever pulled, stunning is an understatement.

you three walk inside, you look at Jungkook and he nods when Deong Ju takes you to another table, two booths away from your group. Jimin asks Jungkook what's all this about and he tells him that his co-worker has pretty much the same goals as you do, he wants to settle down soon and he's a good guy, Jungkook's known him for some time now. "if you're setting this up then i trust it-" "one hundred percent!" "i know she's gonna like him then." they all speak at the same time, making Jungkook gulp.

"y'all...really trust me like that?" "duh-" "of course we do! you know y/n way better than any of us do." Hoseok says. "yeah, she trusts you with her life so if you're choosing her a partner then... we're all in it." Jungkook smiles as he looks down at his glass. he definitely feels more nervous now that everyone thinks he will choose the best for you but it's all in your hands, you've got to like the guy, doesn't matter who sets it up, you must like the vibe and that's why Jungkook keeps taking glances to check in on you and to his relief he sees you laughing, looks like you're having a good time. he hopes you don't have too much alcohol.

the man in front of you has no idea about your low tolerance and if you do, he wants to be around just in case. it's been about an hour or so and Jungkook's zoned out of the group convo, everyone seems to be indulged in the gossip of the upcoming college batch party but he's too tired, especially after a long event at work and the dinner, he can't wait to get some sleep when he's back home. he sips on the last of his 5th shot and looks over at your booth only to find it empty.

his eyes dart around anxiously, finally finding you on the dance floor by yourself. you're having fun, arms up in the air, a wide smile, gulping down a shot when the waiter walks past you. Jungkook lets you be yourself, he watches you in a distance. This isn't the first time he's seen you dance like that, he's seen it too many times. But somehow you look so much more beautiful tonight. he's unsure if it's the outfit, dance or the shots but...all he knows is, it's different, it's all got some effect on him.

either him or the atmosphere and that- scares him. there were far too many times he'd felt out of the ordinary with you but it was always something that faded away, he knows this shall too. you're his best friend, best best friend, childhood friend, he's seen every side of you, the good, bad, ugly and beautiful. you're an attractive woman, so crushing on you was a silly feeling that lasted 2 seconds and you would immediately fall back to being the annoying ass. Jungkook smiles as he keeps an eye on you, until he sees a random stranger getting close to you.

soon he gets on his feet, rushing towards you, pushing the drunk guy away and standing right behind you. "why'd you do that?" you ask, squinting your eyes. "i don't know...didn't like it." he says, of course he doesn't like it. The guy looked completely wasted, and if Jungkook hadn't stepped in, those hands would've definitely ended up somewhere they didn't belong. Jungkook looks around, looking for Deong Ju.

"you're being so weird tonight." "yeah, you're hot tonight." That makes you pause, mid-dance. You turn to face him because your body's moving too much, and the beat, the dress, you... it's provoking him in a way that feels completely unintentional but impossible to ignore. He mentally curses himself, brushing it off as the alcohol talking. "where's Deong Ju?" "he left, said it was an emergency." you sigh.

"come on Kook, dance!" You grab his hand and pull him in. He laughs, following your lead, doing a ridiculous move that makes you both double over with laughter. It's easy again, light, stupid, familiar. Until the music slows. Your hands crawl up to his neck. His settle naturally at your waist. You're swaying. It's too comfortable," you really thought i would hit it off with that guy?" you ask loudly so he could hear through the music. "You literally cried to me about wanting kids and a husband.

He's a good guy. What was I supposed to do?" he murmurs into your ears. You look at him closely, your fingers reaching up to push his hair off his forehead. You linger, just for a moment. Softly. Absentmindedly. You think about it, the guy was fine. He wanted the same things but... "you were... just not how you meant to.." you whisper, you don't even think he hears it. But Jungkook always watches your mouth when he's this close.

He reads your lips. And suddenly, something shifts. He doesn't know what it is exactly, maybe the way you're looking at him, maybe the way your thumb brushes his skin. Maybe the alcohol, maybe the song. Maybe none of it. Maybe all of it. But it's there. And neither of you pulls away. "what do you mean by that?" he asks carefully. you look at his eyes and give him a soft smile, looking down at the floor.

"nothing, forget it. i'm tipsy." Jungkook blinks, his brows furrow just a little, mouth parting like he wants to ask again, he doesn't think it's nothing, he doesn't press on it but he can't help it. The air is different tonight, you both feel it. "we should go home." "yeah..." you pull away, and both walk to the booth. Jimin's already passed out and Hoseok tells Mina to drink up fast so they can get home to the triplets.

"you guys going too?" Tae asks. "yup, too late." "yeah, gotta drop Jiminie too." "see you later guys!" you both hug all of them before Jungkook gets his car. you both are quiet. none of you speak. The ride home is filled with silence except when you plug your phone for the music instead of his, like you always do.

you both walk up to your apartment, still a bit tipsy. you kick off your heels and slump on the couch. Jungkook places your bag carefully on the dining table and sits beside you. "my feet are dying." you groan dramatically. "why do you even wear heels?" he asks. he can sense the change. you're not all whiny like you are usually. you're quiet. he knows somethings not right. "what's on your mind?" he asks...slowly.

you drop your head on his shoulder, looking up at him, his eyes don't blink, he fixates them on yours, gazing down at you. he wants you to speak up your thoughts so he waits patiently. your eyes fall back to his lap. "you're okay? wanna talk?" he asks again. you don't answer him. "does it have to do with Deong Ju?"

you shake your head and he nods. At atleast you're giving him some insight. you both sit in silence and it itches him. he doesn't like it. he prefers the blabbering from you. At atleast it keeps the empty room alive, unlike now. the lights are dim, barely any light at all. he keeps a mental note to change your lights to white, the gold doesn't match your aesthetic. he'd notice the few changes you've made, like the additional frames on the wall, the books that sit on the console table.

he didn't see them last weekend, he was here so it had to be done during the week. it's nice, it's you. the light seeping through the windows, brightens up the room by a percent. it's mostly darkness, it's comfortable though. he has you leaning against him, the soft breathing is he only sound to his ears except the air conditioner.

maybe you need some space so he gives it, doesn't further question you because he knows you'll speak if you want to. so he eases, slumps down the couch and closes his eyes. "you didn't have to go all grandma, bodyguard mode tonight, you know." you murmur and he softly chuckles at the 'grandma.' "he was coming at you, i didn't like it. and-" he glances at you, caressing your hair.

"i'm just... protective okay. i get it, it can be frustrating to you but i promise- you're allowed to wear whatever. I'm allowed to worry. i'm your best friend, aint i?" he asks. patting your head. you smile. "You always take care of me. Even when you don't have to." you mumble. "hey...i don't mind it." he whispers, messing your hair like a kid. it's quiet again. you look up to take a glance at him and he's already looking down at you. your eyes meet, longer than a minute."

you looked like you had a great time with him." you chuckle and hit his chest. "i had to play it off well, he was nice, though his flirting skills lacked. i'll still give it to him, he...looked good." Jungkook nods, picking the insides of his cheek. he won't deny it, Deong Ju was a charming man.

You took a moment, trying to figure out how to make him laugh. Tickling? That would work but knowing him, he'd turn it back on you and tickle you to death, so you quickly scrapped that idea. Instead, you decided on a hug. Without any warning, you wrapped your arms around him. pulling him into a tight hug. He lets out a sudden laugh, surprised but quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you even closer. you both giggle as you stay in each other's embrace for sometime.

he's warm, so so warm and it comforts you. his presence feels cozy, you're unsure if it's his wrapped warms, chest or scent but it's godly. he rubs your back, taking you in. the giggles die and it's quiet once again but this time you both enjoy the stillness, you almost fall asleep to his breathing and rubs. his hand reaches up to your hair, massaging it softly. His fingertips glide through your straightened hair, quietly noting how soft it feels beneath his touch.

he pushes your hair behind your ear, a simple, small move that didn't intend to feel anything. but in a way it did, you felt your heart skip a beat at his touch. you look up at him and giggle.

'your giggles sound like a baby's'

he thinks to himself. he smiles softly, warmly. you pull his cheeks, he whimpers in pain while you laugh, enjoying how cute he looks. Jungkook doesn't say a word, he lets you playfully hurt him, before placing a kiss on it, a fun, thankful kiss like you do to all your friends but.. you don't pull back away as fast as you usually do and Jungkook notices it.

the lightness of his gaze fades, his eyes darken. words aren't exchanged but the feeling- the shift...the body understands, the body feels it without the need of words. your lips slowly pull away, as your eyes flicks up to meet his. but they're already on you. the way you look up at him with innocent round eyes, makes his body weak.

the both of you continue to look at each other, the temperature rises and the air changes, you breathe heavily. His gaze flickers between your eyes before dropping to your lips, slow, intentional, like he's tracing an invisible triangle across your face. you swallow hard, unable to look away. your mind raced with a million thoughts,

'what is he doin?' 'what am i doing?' 'are we....really thinking of that?'

but when he got closer to you, you didn't pull away, you didn't move your head. you...wanted it too. you wanted a taste, you wanted to try. you both hesitated for a moment, Jungkook gave you time to think as he slowly got closer to you. he noted how you didn't move, maybe you wanted this too? if you didn't, you would pull away right? you stayed still, allowing him to make the lead and he did.

he pressed his lips gently on yours. your eyes close at the feeling of him. you think, how soft his lips feel while he thinks why he never noticed how plump your lips were, until now. he stayed just a minute long, keeping it brief before slowly pulling away. his eyes searched yours, asking you silently if this was okay, if you liked it, if you ...didn't hate him for this but all he could see was desperation. your eyes wide, moon like. he observes your face, he's never seen you this up close and...

he wonders why he never did. you were beautiful. you've always been. "didn't know your eyes were caramel brown." he says, in a whisper. the both of you an inch way from pressing back your lips breaths mingling. "you don't even know me." he muffles a soft laugh. "i knew they were brown but..." he brushes his nose with yours. your eyes shut at his touch. "how did i miss it all these years?"

he murmurs, you almost couldn't hear it, too focused on his hand creeping up your neck, teasing you with his touch. "just kiss me, kook." you whine, unable to take it anymore. he presses his lips back on yours, this time more hungrily. your hands travel to his hair, pulling him closer to you. Jungkook holds your jaw tight while his other hand wraps itself around your waist, pulling you to his lap.

the kiss is hurried, greedy and passionate. his lip piercing is cold, but it feels so much better when you kiss. you moan into his mouth when he bites down your lower lip, before meeting your tongue. "kook-" you whisper, tugging him closer like as if he can get any closer to you than he already is. You're craving more, and so is he. Jungkook indulges in the kiss too deeply to even remember who he's kissing anymore.

His mouth grows rough, leaving your lips swollen and bruised, marking you with each greedy pull. A moan escapes you, loud and shameless, as your palms clutch at the back of his neck, pulling him closer. he then pulls away fast after the hearing the sound you make. "we... shouldn't be doing this." you say, breathless, struggling to steady your breathing. his eyes search yours, looking for any signs that he may have hurt you, if he was being too rough. "y-yeah we- shouldn't."

he whispers and you both nod quickly, neither of you move. your hands are still wrapped around his neck while his hands are on your jaw and waist. you swallow a lump down your throat, the little voice inside your head keeps nagging you

'just go for it.' 'its just a one time thing...right?'

you take a deep breath, the both of you keep staring at each other. Jungkook looks concerned, almost frightened, as if unsure how to ask if he's gone too far. your hands cup his cheeks.

"hey...that- that was amazing, kook." you mumble. "that was crazy," you chuckle. Jungkook sees how swollen your lips are, they're plump by themselves but now it's....way bigger than they were, alluring him for more but he stops. "i'm okay!" you whisper, your hands bring his face down, a few centimeters away from his lips. "i loved it." you press a chaste kiss on his lips, his grip on your waist tightens at it.

"i fucking loved it." you whisper again, pulling him to yet another deep kiss. this time your hands roam on his chest, before reaching under his tank top. Jungkook moves his mouth slowly yet passionately. he knows your lips are tender from the bruising so he goes softer this time so you don't feel uncomfortable. his hands reach to pull away your leather jacket, leaving you in the red lace corset top. you push his jacket away too, trying to remove his tank top, which he pulls away from you to do it.

you drool at the sight of his chest. it allows a chuckle to erupt. "nothing you haven't seen before." he speaks. "i know but...this feels different." you can't believe you're...gonna do this with your stupid-yet very attractive best friend. Jungkook is insanely handsome, you've always known that. But never, not once in your life, did you think you'd end up like this. seated on his lap, his bare chest against you, making out with him, and... maybe about to do things you never imagined you'd do.

With your best friend.

"oh fuck you're everything i need right now." you mutter, pressing your lips again on his as he laughs at what you just said. he knows this is gonna go further, he feels it in his bones. it's the way you're grinding on him, the way your hands are all over his and how deep your kissing him. it's not that he isn't either but he wanted to go slow and clearly.. that's not what you want. he lifts you off the couch with ease, taking you to your bedroom. he doesn't turn on the lights, your window is bright enough since you didn't pull the curtains close.

he carefully places you on the bed, hovering over you as your body reacts with a quiet giggle when his hands find you. "you know why...we're here." he asks. "of course jeonfuck!" he chuckles then he looks at you seriously. "And you're okay with this?" he asks again, carefully, as if double-checking. Even though the light doesn't quite reach your face, he still reaches over to switch on the bedside lamp.

when he sees your face, glowing like the moon, he can't help but smile. "it's been about a year i last had sex, i'm so fucking horny." you groan but he doesn't laugh with you. sure, he smiles softly but he's really serious and you notice it. your hands cup his face, looking deeply into his eyes. "i don't know what were doing, this...is stupid." you chuckle, he scoffs with a nod.

'if this isn't stupid then what is it.' you both think.

"but i know i want this. i...trust you okay. you're my best friend-" at that he breaks into laughter, his head falls on your neck. "you did not just friend zone me while i'm over you, half naked with a boner." "i'm serious though, you are my best friend, aren't you?" you ask, pushing him so you can look at his face clearly while you speak. "i am." he whispers, placing a kiss on your palm that holds his cheeks.

"Do you trust me?" you ask, and he lets out a dramatic groan. "With my life...and my... dick apparently? Wait, no- you're gonna be sane, right? You're not gonna, like, chew it off or-" "Jeon, get fucking serious and just fuck me already." he giggles, pressing his nose on yours, rubbing it side to side before he pushes his lips. his fingers brush your shoulders, allowing the thin straps of the top to slip down.

he kisses down your jaw down till your neck. your hands stay tangled in his hair, moaning at the feeling of his sucking down your throat. he pulls away any of the remaining pieces of cloth on your body and himself, you're both desperate with the way he's trying to remove his pants, so do you. but the button isn't opening and it frustrates you both, how you're unable to do a simple action.

when they're all gone, Jungkook hovers over you, his fingers flick the lamp off without a word, leaving the room dark and quiet. It's easier like this, easier to forget you're best friends and just... be.

he stays between your thighs, preparing you for himself. you whimper at his fingers as he draws circles, moving inside of you to prep for the later. his lips stay on your chest, easing you as he makes you cum for the first time.

"ko-kook-" "yeah." "need you." you whisper breathlessly and he crawls up, placing a quick kiss on your lips. "yeah- i need you too, just give me some time.." he pants as he tries to stop himself from letting out. he's close but he doesn't want to tell you, he can't focus on stopping himself when the sounds of you fill his ears.

he never imagined you would ever leave such sexy sounds. nothing could have prepared him for this. he stables himself after a while, even though you make his blood level and heart beat spike when you lean in to kiss him. you take in the sight before you. his chest, the sweat beads decorating it. his tattooed arms make him look like a painting. he's so fine, you knew he was always.

he heaves a sigh and adjusts himself to you, right in between you. he braces himself over you, placing himself at the right spot. he kisses you gently before he thrusts. you cry when you feel his length, he groans loud, biting his lower lip in reflex as he lowers his head to your shoulder. "fuck-oh my god- you feel so go- wait-" he freezes, he removes his head from you and look at you with wide eyes of realisation.

"i-i didn't use a condom- shit shit-" he starts to pull away, concern written all over his face, but you catch his arms and tug him back. "it's fine.." "no y/n we must be careful-" "hey hey..are you clean?" you ask. he nods immediately. "i've not slept with anyone in months." "it's fine then..me too. i'll take a pill right after, okay."

"oh..." he sighs, putting his head on your cheek. "oh y/n you better..." as the night passes, you cling to him, breathlessly as he drowns himself into you, he murmurs your name so beautifully. you've never heard anyone call your name out with so much passion before. not even your exes who would just be done with it. this sex is a one-time thing but oh man...this might've been the best you've ever had.

"Y/N... you're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Fuck... baby... you feel incredible," he groans as he loses control, his lust taking over him as he speeds up. he finishes inside of you, panting as he sleeps on your chest. the both of you take your time to breathe, the night had been a crazy ride. a one-time insane roller coaster. you just hope you don't regret it.

he falls beside you, looking at your side frame. you turn to see him. he caresses your cheek, his eyes gaze over your features lovingly, like he always does. he gets closer, his lips a few centimeters away, testing you. you pull him, chastely kissing along with playful giggles. "i'll run the shower."

he gets up and walks into the washroom. you watch him walk naked. damn, he's fine. he really is. Both of you shower separately. you're now doing your skincare, patting the toner into your skin as Jungkook leans against the door frame. he wears his clothes, the extra ones you keep in your closet whenever he decides to sleep over...on the couch. "what?" you ask, side-eyeing him.

he chuckles, making his way to you. "was wondering how i managed to sleep with...you." He says it like it's supposed to offend you. "Wow, thanks. Confidence ruined..." he grabs the face mask from your hand and puts it on his face. you punch his chest, tearing another face mask.

Jungkook and you tease and joke around, it's just a part of your friendship. a major part. so it doesn't have to offend you, it usually means nothing, just his way to annoy you- yet this upsets you. he glances at you from the corner of his eyes, he notes a shift in the mood. He didn't mean that, so he's just about to speak but then you do.

"so what... you regretting it already?" you whisper under your breath, rubbing the rest of the serum on your arms. Jungkook frowns, he knows he should've been a bit more considerate, jokes aside, it was rude, he knows it too. "hey..." he gets closer to you, feeling guilty at what he said. You take a step back, looking at him with wide eyes.

you chuckle. "come on, I was teasing you." you fake a laugh but he knows what's on your mind already. you're expressive with your emotions, your face shows it all. And Jungkook? he figures it out in seconds. "bubs.." he pulls you into a hug.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean it-" "hey it's okay-" you attempt to free yourself from his grasp but he holds you tight. he knows you're hurt but you're trying to play it off. "i dont regret anything, not even a second of it." he murmurs, you stop moving and sigh. "i promise." he whispers, pulling away so he can look at you closely.

he cups your face and scans your features. his eyes fall to your lips accidentally but he pushes his thoughts away. placing a kiss on your forehead. "it doesn't change anything between us, right?" you ask softly, carefully. worried that this stupid night could be a fatal mistake to this beautiful friendship the two of you share. he shakes his head, a grin decorates his face.

"No, of course not. Nothing could ever change what we share. You're my best friend, and you always will be. This doesn't change how I feel... does it change things for you?" you shake your head immediately and he smiles. "That settles it all then." he pats your head then looks back at the mirror, fixing his hair. you look down, taking everything in. "your face mask is gonna fall off, careful."

he chuckles. You both step out of the bathroom. Jungkook takes the extra pillows from the closet and goes to the living room. He lays out the pillows and pulls the blanket over the couch, turning it into a bed for the night. he asks if you're hungry and you say no. he asked 'wanna get double double spicy meal? '

you were about to say yes cause that burger is.. your most fav food ever but it was too late for a whole meal. you walk back to your bedroom, after it's all cleaned up. you say your good nights and lie down to sleep. somehow you just ...can't. you look up at the ceiling, your mind spinning about everything that had happened. tonight has been crazy, neither of you would've imagined this could happen.

that's not it, there's an uneasiness inside of you, that's keeping you on the edge. an unsettling feeling inside you, that only gets worse as the clock ticks.

The clock reads 2:35 AM now. You went to bed at 12:40. you struggle to close your eyes, flipping side to side, but nothing really works. finally, you give up, quietly slipping out of bed. You tiptoe toward the living room, careful not to wake Jungkook. He usually falls asleep fast.

You hover behind the couch, peeking over just to make sure he's really asleep.

But... he's not.

Jungkook meets your eyes without a flinch. he's got his arm resting on his forehead, his blanket sprawled on the couch and a pillow on the floor. "can't sleep?" he asks, you nod with a pout. "come here" he sits up, patting the empty space beside him. you sit down and pull the blanket around you.

"thought you'd be snoring." he gets offended by it and laughs. "i don't snore." "that's what all snorers say." now you both sit in silence, in your own worlds of spinning thoughts. Jungkook glances at you time to time, he figures you're lost in your thoughts, he's curious though. he guesses it has to do with tonight.

"you really okay? wanna talk?" you look at him with a blank face before looking down. "i can't shut my mind." you speak. "you're worried about .. that yet?" "no, i just don't know....i mean, we feel normal, we are normal right-" "ofc we are bubs, what's normal even?" he says and you heave a deep sigh. "it's just...if i lose you for just some...sex? i'm gonna give up on everything, i'll lose track of my life, you're the only one that keeps me sane." you murmur, while he looks at you fondly.

"That's a lot of pressure for one person, but hey, I'm up for the challenge." he says making you giggle. "hey look at me.." he turns to face you, getting serious for a moment. "this.." he gestures between you two. "this friendship is everything to me, nothing is gonna mess this up, not one night, not any sex or kiss. Whatever it is, our friendship is my top priority and i will never let anything harm us, never. you understand?" he consoles you as he brushes his hand over yours.

you nod, feeling a sense of calmness wash over you. "i promise." he whispers, he searches your face, carefully watching your expressions as you both innocently get closer to each other. your noses brush against one another, lips hovering just a few centimeters away. you both are unsure who kissed first but it happened, gently, carefully. a slow kiss that lasted a few seconds before you both pull away.

"um...i-" it's awkward now, Jungkook brushes his hair as he looks around the room, you drape the blanket tighter around yourself in reflex. "guess that's what happens when you can't sleep." he whispers under his breath, making you laugh which he follows too. "come." he opens his arms, pulling you in as he caresses your hair. "sleep y/n, good night." he kisses your lips for the last time, making you giggle like a child.

kook : hey sleepy head, wake up

y/n : i'm awake dipshit

jimina : i just know you were asleep

tae : it's fucking 4pm, she never sleeps this time

y/n : see, tae's my only best friend *insert a cringe meme*

kook : my ass, you were speaking gibberish when i called you

y/n : fuck you

jimina : wait, are you okay? you never nap in the evening

y/n : i'm fine brother's

kook : stop w the brothers, we're gonna grab dinner, u coming?

y/n : nah, deliver them pleaseeeee, thank you kookie

tae : my tits, you're coming no excuses

kook : yeah i ain't your uber

y/n : losers *inserts fuck sign meme*

You've been feeling exhausted, especially with work lately. The wedding season is here, so you're always on the go, booking appointments and checking setups. you did in fact nap in the evening and that's definitely not you. you weren't in a mood to do your makeup either, just a layer of lip gloss was enough.

Jungkook arrives so you take the elevator to meet him at the parking lot. he's surprised to see you in a hoodie and sweatpants. he laughs when you get inside the car. "what's going on here? this isn't my y/n." "shut up, i was too lazy."

you defend yourself, rolling your eyes. "oh Tae's gonna laugh his ass off." "i'm gonna punch him." The drive was nice, you almost fell asleep again, which Jungkook noticed, so he turned the music louder, forcing you to stay awake with the rock sound. "fucker." you screamed back at him through the loud music, making him laugh. Both of you walk inside, there Jimin and Tae were already seated, punching some popcorn chicken.

"yo where's my sexy best friend? who tf is she?" Tae breaks out in laughter, seeing you in this oversized outfit that you never wear out in public. "you guys are the worst." you sit in front of Jimin, Jungkook sits beside you. "you never text or call now and you missed like two dinners? plus you didn't put makeup??? i see your dark circles and all the shit. the fuck is on?"

Tae asks and you sigh. "The events are super packed, i'm exhausted from all that." Jimin nods and pats your hand. "it's just the wedding season, don't worry." you nod with a smile. The four of you indulge in a conversation regarding each other's jobs. Jimin's busy with his project while Tae has a short break. Jungkook's never complaining, he loves what he does so he's always passionate about talking about his latest shoots.

when the meals arrive, the three of them immediately gobble down their favourite burgers while you stare at yours, poking it, playing with the fries. Jungkook notices first and knocks your shoulder with his. "you okay? you literally fought me for this burger last time."

"yeah...i just don't have much of an appetite right now." Jungkook, Jimin and Tae pause for a moment. Tae chokes on his fries, quickly sipping up his cherry cola. Jungkook chuckles nervously as he say, "Are you secretly possessed? Blink twice if you need an exorcist." you groan and slip down your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"i'm fine, probably stressed out and tired." Jungkook gets worried for a second, you're never like this. the last time you behaved this way was when you had a severe fever, only to find out you had covid. he pats your head gently as he continues to eat his burger. you try not to whimper at how awful you feel, you don't feel like you, you've been tired and nauseous lately, you know something's up. "hey give me a sip of the cola-"

"Jimin, you have the same shit-" "i know but i'm done with it-" Jimin and Tae keep arguing while Jungkook laughs, you're napping a bit. Jungkook's pats give you some sort of comfort until a churning feeling rises in your stomach, your throat feels tight and uncomfortable, and suddenly, all you know, you just have to puke. you jump over Jungkook and rush to the washroom, covering your mouth. The three of them look at each other in concern.

Jungkook doesn't think for a second, he drops his burger and runs behind you. "i'll check on her." he says as he rushes to be with you. you're puking into the sink since the toilet floor was too dirty to sit on and you could not control yourself. Jungkook was glad you didn't lock the door, he's quick to enter as he stands behind you and pulls your hair into a pony. he rubs your back soothingly, hoping he could be of some help.

"hey hey, let it all out." you cry as you throw up. you hate this feeling, the tightness in your throat while your stomach clenches itself. You wash your mouth, breathing heavily as you finally feel relieved. "Oh bubs.." Jungkook pulls you into a soft hug, before walking out without. Jimin and Taehyung had stopped eating, worrying for you since this has never happened before. " Y/n!!" They get up from their seat to hug you. " I'm fine guys.."

you murmur, though you don't feel good, but you don't want to ruin their dinner by worrying them more than they already are. Jungkook passes the water bottle to you and forces you to drink more than just a mouthful. "Did you have take-away yesterday?" Jimin asks, and you nod. "I'm sure it's food poisoning them." Tae says, and you all nod. You sit beside Jungkook, he caresses your hair as you lean against him.

"Go ahead, don't worry about me," you assured them. They were hesitant at first, but after hearing your words, they continued eating. "Bubs... I can drive you home. I'm done eating." He whispers to you. Jimin and Tae were gonna drink in a bit, they refused to leave without you but you begged them to go ahead and have some fun.

You nodded at Jungkook's words and he smiled. He packed your burger and fries. He refused to let you have them later, tomorrow. He told you that he'll prepare fresh food so you can clean your system. "Just tell me you want the damn burger, kook." "Don't do me like that now y/n, I'm not so cheap. " He makes you chuckle through the pain.

During the drive, you fall asleep, so Jungkook stops by the supermarket and gets the ingredients to prepare you some soup. When you get to your place you immediately curl up on your couch. Jungkook sighs as he walks towards you, putting up a cushion under your head and draping the blanket over you. He lets you nap for some time until he prepares the seaweed soup for you.

"bubs..wake up." he softly tries to wake you up from your nap. you blink a couple of times, clutching your stomach as you try to sit up. "have some of this, you'll feel better." you shake your head, not feeling hungry but he's adamant that you have something, you can't sleep in an empty stomach. so he feeds you, carefully.

"Remember, mom would make this for us whenever we got a cold." he smiles, recalling the memories you both had of the miyeok-guk (seaweed soup). you nod and chuckle. Sitting in crossed legs, while Jungkook sits on the coffee table in front of you, feeding you like a child. you do the same to him too, whenever he falls ill.

Jungkook cares for you a lot, the most. Everyone in your friend group is aware of that, Jungkook and you know it too. he's been your best friend since you were kid, all his life he'd been protecting you and taking care of you. it's natural that he feels this pull to do anything for you, even if that means learning how to cook for you whenever you're unable to or when you're sick. like now.

"one more, come on." he feeds you the last bit of the bowl and smiles widely. "good girl." "ew, don't call me that." you soon lie down and he tsks you. "get up, don't sleep with a full stomach yet." "but i'm tired." "let's watch something, stay up for an hr or so and then you can sleep all night, yeah?" you nod, too exhausted to argue, he puts on a movie, a movie of your liking, a romance of course. You stay awake through the whole thing, even if you don't say much.

Maybe it's the comfort of having him around, the way he caresses your hair always makes you feel so calm. by the time the end credits roll it was time for Jungkook to leave, he leaves you a glass of water and some pills, just in case you feel worse in the middle of he night and he pulls of the heating pad, saying it could be your cramps that hurt more.

he gives you a big hug and a kiss on your forehead before he leaves. "you'll be fine by yourself yeah?" "yeah grandma." "i'm serious, i can sta-" "no, you've got work ill be fine." he looks at you closely, you've got a little pout which...makes him feel a little something but he soon looks away. "alright then, lock the door and call me if you need anything, i'll be here in no time." you smile and shoo him away after thanking for the soup. you close the door and drag your feet back to bed.

one week.

it's been 7 days since your awful day at the restaurant and you have not recovered from whatever the hell you've been feeling. only it's worse now. you've been napping during office hours when you're supposed to be managing the events.

This has never happened in your life.

not even when you had a terrible hangover. you didn't have much to do that week, yet you could sleep for weeks long. that should've been the major sign but you kept ignoring it. the nasuea hasn't been better, you've skipped many meals throughout the week.

including your morning coffee and coffee bun that you always have before work. somehow the aroma of the cafe put you off, it's unusual because you love the smell of that cafe, not just the coffee beans, but the sweet scents from the lemon cakes and buns are essential to you before you leave to work. the sniff of it makes you feel ready to work but now, you can't enter the cafe without the feeling of puking. you googled,

'how long does food poisoning last'

and somehow the symptoms don't add up to what you've been feeling. because it's been over a week and it hasn't improved, not one bit. you haven't had takeaway food. Jungkook always Ubered you his homemade food so there's no way your system isn't clean. You've been frequently using the bathroom more, you fear you've got a UTI or whatever, but you always keep forgetting to visit the doctor since you feel too tired to move.

Jungkook's been texting you more lately and in someway, you just can't get yourself to respond, you texted him how you took a day off and he told you, he'll come by but you refused to meet him, saying you just wanted to sleep throughout the day. your period tracker shows you're late and it's frustrating because all this could also just be the period.

you've been avoiding Jungkook and it's on you, he always checks in on you but you keep dodging his texts or...it could be you just not want to be around him. you don't know why you thought of it but...you just did. it's like a gut feeling saying something's off and it's never like you.

kook : let's hang out in your place

y/n : noo it's messy here

kook : like you ever gave a fuck

y/n : kook pls

kook : fine, come by then, no excuses. it's been long.

you groan when you see his texts. you don't wanna see him even though you really want to. it's weird, this feeling inside of you. you're trying to hide it, but you can't.

for one it's because Jungkook is gonna leave everything and run to you and second, you feel this growing...unease as you keep opening your period tracker, and the number of days it's late just keeps climbing. you wear a hoodie and sweatpants and take a ride to his place. you stop by the pharmacy to grab a...

Pregnancy kit, just in case.

of course you know that you're not gonna use it but it's just an option.

just an option.

Jungkook opens the door to greet you in a hug. "oh my god, it's been so long." "it's been just a week." he takes you in and sighs, "a week is too long for us. and.." he scans your face quickly before a frown draws in. you don't look better, you look worse. "Hey..." he begins in a soft whisper.

"are you okay? You've kinda been... avoiding me." he speaks carefully, slowly. "I just haven't really felt like doing much lately." You shrug off his hand and drop onto the couch, letting out a slow breath.

That uneasy feeling creeps in again, mostly because there's a pregnancy test sitting in your bag, and it's all you can think about. Jungkook doesn't question you any further, he lets you be. you would talk to him if something is wrong.

Sometimes you keep things to yourself but he knows if something is really bad, you'll come to him. so.. he'll wait. "i waited all week for you to watch Love Island. I promise I didn't watch any, so let's watch it together." he sits beside you, pulling a blanket over you.

he notices how quiet you are, but he doesn't say anything, he tries to be normal and keep the energy up. you're unable to focus on anything, even if your favorite show is playing. you just can't. there's Jungkook beside you, you're supposed to feel calm but you can't, your mind isn't allowing you to breathe.

you really want to take that test, just.. just once you see the negative sign, you'll be free from this wrecking mind of thoughts. "shit, i forgot about popcorn. lemme get it done real quick." he gets up the couch to grab some corn kernels. the smell of the butter makes you want to throw up, which...is fucking weird, that's NOT you.

so, you take that opportunity to test it out. you can't wait anymore, you just wanna be done with it. you grab the kit and lock yourself up inside the washroom.

you wait.

impatiently.

walking side to side with your hands on your hips, you bite on your fingernails as you wait for the results. just a few more seconds, you tell yourself. your phone timer goes off so you brace yourself. you know it's negative so you shouldn't be so nervous but that's the thing, you're nervous nevetheless. you wrap your arms around your chest, an attempt to calm yourself down by hugging yourself. the time ticks, your heart is thumping, your forehead filled with beads of sweat. you take one look at it and your breath catches. you gulp. you stare at it.

"w-what?"

you probably misread it. Panic floods your chest as you grab the test box, almost ripping it open again, as if checking the instructions one more time could change it. you take the test closer, maybe it's the blur of your eyes, through all the tears filling up or the lighting or, SOMETHING. but it can't be.... that. it has to be a false positive, of course. surely it's like..expired or something. you take another.

it comes out the same.

you feel warm, you feel cold. you don't know what you're feeling anymore. this has to be a fucking nightmare. what even is this? what now? what...what is this? you panic. "bubs? you okay in there?" Jungkook asks, as he knocks on the door, checking on you since it's been a while. "y-yeah, yea.." you reply. you feel ashamed of everything now, you feel guilty. how do you even tell this to him?

to your...poor best friend who means so much to you. should you tell him? this is his, of course it's his, you never slept with anyone. what if he... doesn't want this? will he hate you? will he...leave you forever?

your thoughts keep storming your mind. you've frozen. sitting on the edge of the bathtub, hands fisting into your pants. you're in shock, pain and guilt. you don't know what to do anymore. how...just how...can you face him as you step out? you try your best not to cry, wiping off the tears with the sleeve of your hoodie.

this is life changing and it's not anything you want right now. your life isn't stable yet, you've got no one beside you. this can't be happening, this is insane. you can't face Jungkook,

you just can't.

you muster all the courage, throwing the kits deep inside his bin , snapping the lid shut. all you have to do is step out of the washroom and rush out the door. You don't want him to look at you and you most definitely don't want him to find out about this. so you take a deep breath and open the door.

"bubs, i think i finally got the caramel right this ti-" "Jungkook i have to go, something urgent came up, i'll see you anther day, i'm so sorry-" you blurt out the words and rush out the door, leaving Jungkook dumbfounded. "what?" was the only word he could say before youd already bolted out the door. he was confused and lost.

you've never left like this before. he didn't have time to process what you've just said. he just froze with popcorn in his mouth and the bowl in his hands, blinking in confusion. he knew something was wrong and after the way you left, it's more than just an intuition now.

he puts the bowl down, taking his time to think about what had happened. you've been avoiding him, been too quiet lately. The rings around your eyes should've said enough but he just can't seem to wrap his head around this. all he knows is, you're not okay.

you buy another pregnancy kit on your way home, you just have to be 100% sure about this before panicking anymore. when the test comes out positive, it takes everything in you not to break apart all the items around you. you fall on the couch and bawl your eyes out. you're afraid of everything. of Jungkook, your future and your relationship with Jungkook.

it's not okay, it's not okay to carry your best friend's child, especially when it was just one night. the both of you never indulged in anything more than that night.

how could it have gone wrong? you feel guilty for leaving him hanging, it's worse now that you know you're carrying his child and he...isn't aware of it. you're hiding something from your only person. The only one who knows everything about you, today you're hiding something that could be everything to both of you together.

you wanna cry, you want to cry in someone's arms but you can't. you're all by yourself right now and it's so scary. how can you tell him? is there a way to break something like this to a best friend? you can't handle this stress, it's over powering your mind when you've already been feeling lost and exhausted.

you hug your knees, trying to control yourself from having the worst breakdown of your life.

Jungkook on the other hand is worried. he's dead worried for you. he walks side by side, trying to figure out what could be the issue. he'd left a couple of texts but they weren't delivered.

kook : y/n? are you okay?

kook : what was the emergency? all good?

kook : bubs?

kook : answer me please

kook : just tell me you're okay

kook : bubs?????

he'd called you a few times, you hadn't answered a single one. do you have a serious issue? is your health alright? are you FUCKING okay? Jungkook was spiraling, he can't just sit around knowing something's wrong. He needs to know that you're okay, he needs to get at least a reply from you. He decides to give you more time, although it has been about 3 hours and he can't sit still. He gives you tonight, he spams you lesser but he still does. He just wants to make sure you're okay but you don't respond until the next day.

Y/n : I'm fine kook

Jungkook isn't satisfied with your reply but he's glad you did, even though you took 15 hours to respond. You'd left your bag so he decided to drop it off and take a look at you. That way he'll know if you're actually okay or you're just texting that for his sake. He takes out his trash before leaving and notices something that.. doesn't belong to him.

The bin was usually filled with face masks, this time he'd emptied his moisturiser but he'd never used these two sticks... A kit? he suspects that, taking it out of the bin as he reads it. He's not quite sure what it is until he sees the front of the box. He immediately picked up the tissue papers that had two sticks inside it.

Two. Pink lines.

No. No way.

His heart dropped to his feet, the hair in his body stood up and he felt dizzy. Quickly holding the edge of the sink as support.

This- is why you ran?

You're.. pregnant?

You've spent the whole night on the couch. You could not get yourself up from there. You're messed up, you can't move. You're exhausted. You're drained out after all that crying. Your emotions and mind is all over the place. Everything is shifting. everything makes sense now, what you feel. You feel so... Far away from the world.

The people. Your loved ones. You feel so lonely in this situation. You wish you could tell this to someone and just weep it all out. But you can't. The only person you could share this with is the person you're hiding from. Jungkook.

You're carrying a truth that's way bigger than your body. you haven't eaten all day, the last meal you had was dinner the night before. your fatigue was hitting you hard, you're drained out from all the crying. you're stuck in this strange, weird place where you don't know what to feel or do. and it's causing you more anxiety which makes your nausea worse.

you're dreading this, you feel miserable and you look it too. You didn't even notice the dozens of missed calls and texts from Jungkook. your phone was on silent and even if you did check it, you wouldn't have the energy to respond. Every time you think about him, you want to cry all over again. His innocent face flashes in your mind, those eyes that always looked at you with so much trust. And now you feel like a betrayer. you feel awful.

you've been feeling dizzy all day long, you can't get yourself up from the couch. You're drenched in sweat, soaked in tears, and the nausea is getting worse. You stink of it all. And even though part of you is glad to be alone...

God, you wish someone were here.

You wish he were here..

The door bell rings, you ignore it, and drowsiness finally starts to pull you under. Just as you're slipping into unconsciousness, the front door swings open. Jungkook's voice cuts through the fog. You barely see him, just a blur of his face, calling your name.

Then...

Nothing.

Jungkook drops everything else, he dashes to you. he drops to his knees, pulling you closer to him. you're soaked in sweat, he looks around the room. you hadn't turned on the air conditioner, the windows are locked, there's no ventilation. what have you been doing?!! he hugs you closer to him. Praying you wake up soon.

"god y/n, wake up. wake up please." he's so glad that he had a spare key with him that you'd forgotten about, because if he hadn't come at the right moment, he'd surely regret not making it earlier. he looks around, worried.. then he sees another pregnancy test lying on the ground, a positive test.

you wake up to cold air hitting you. chills run down your spine as the ac exhales, the only warmth you get is on your forehead and hair. you look around, this was not where you were. you were at the living room, not your bedroom. you've not got your hoodie on, just in your tank top. you turn your head to the left side, there you find Jungkook looking down at you in concern, a hint of anger too. you close your eyes.

why have you been seeing him all the time? ever since the positive tests, Jungkook's face keeps flashing in your mind, he's even here in your bedroom now, beside you. you hate this feeling. this guilt.

"you don't get to scare me like this." he murmurs. your eyes open slowly, realising that he's actually here. with you. his hand caresses your head, you don't look at him. he doesn't know about this yet. you can't cry and blurt it out by accident. Jungkook figures you're trying hard not to cry, he knows you well, he knows you were planning to hide this from him. it's quiet, it feels suffocating to you but you don't speak. Jungkook wants to hear you talk, he wants you to cry, because it's okay, it's fine.

"why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

you freeze while Jungkook's hand stops caressing your hair. you don't want to assume what he's talking about so you don't answer anything relating to it. "i'm fine.." you whisper, still not facing him. the answer you gave him was not what he was looking for. "you're not," he says quietly, voice flat. "you passed out, you didn't eat, you ignored me for more than 15 hours." there's a pause. "that's not fine y/n, that'.... hiding." you shut your eyes again, as if that would make him stop. but he doesn't. "i...i found it." your body tenses. "the.. tests in my trash."

silence.

he takes his hand off you, the warmth leaves, you feel colder now. "were you ever going to tell me?" You feel like the bed is swallowing you whole. The guilt, the nausea, the ache, it all rushes back like a wave. You still can't say anything. "I'm not mad," he says, softer this time. "I just...I don't get it. Why wouldn't you come to me?" A beat passes. His voice breaks a little. he's hurt. "We're friends...best friend's before anything else. You know that, right?"

you let your tears fall, your heart heavy now. you don't want to see his face ever again, you hate yourself. you turn completely to your right side, hiding from him. Jungkook feels terrible, he wants you to come to him. he wants you tell you that he's there. Jungkook pulls you up, he pulls you for a hug, you cry on his chest while he holds you tight. "hey..hey bubs."

he whispers, kissing your head as he allows you to put your feelings out. he's never seen you cry this bad. You're having a breakdown, a complete. breakdown. he's glad he's here for you, you're glad that he's here too. "i'm here for you...i'm here baby." the word 'baby' makes you cry louder. 'why does he sound so kind? why is he.. Jungkook?' you think to yourself "i-i'm so sorry-y" you mutter, your voice cracking as you speak.

"you're allowed to fall apart, that's why i'm here." he whispers, gently rocking you, instinctively calming you down. Jungkook just...knows how to be there, how to handle you and hold you. This is why you needed him but this is also why you wished you'd be alone. he makes you feel fine, when things aren't fine. Everything's complicated and messed up and he...he makes it feel okay..

when your cries calm down, you sob time to time. Breathing through your stuffed nose, he smells like home. he smells like peace. everything that you don't deserve. it's quiet now, Jungkook rubs your back as he places his chin on your head. looking straight ahead, just...processing. you can't carry this anymore, you need to tell him even though he already knows this, you need to tell him with your words. he has every right to know, from you.

"i'm pregnant." you finally say in a whisper. Jungkook nods at it, pressing a kiss on your head. "You don't have to go through this alone. Not for a second." he murmurs. "I care about you, Y/N. That night wasn't nothing to me." This sends chills down your spine. you look up to see him and he's already gazing at you. "i'm not going....anywhere." he whispers.

"We'll figure this out, okay? Together....."

Jungkook stays the night, just in case.. and you're glad he did, because you broke down again in the washroom and he was beside you, rubbing your back while you threw up into the toilet. a mix of everything, nausea , guilt, fear and pain. he prepares some tea for you, forcing you to drink it even though you weren't in a mood to have anything. '

"come on bubs, at least you'll puke the tea. you've been throwing up gas all this time." he jokes, making you faintly laugh. he really knows how to handle you. you had no appetite, yet he fed you some homemade clear vegetable soup. "i'm booking an appointment to the Doctors. lets.. do this." he's showing you that he is here and will be there for you.

That sums up who Jungkook is.

It had been roughly a week since you both had found out about your pregnancy. you're now at the waiting room for your first pregnancy check-up. it's much quieter in this room rather than the hallway, there's soft music been played and...pregnant women seated around you. they were very much pregnant than you are, you could tell they're halfway done, whilst you...it's just begun. some cradle their bumps, some look exhausted and some seem excited...like they're waiting to meet their baby. you're alone right now, holding your phone tight, checking for any new notifications from a specific someone...

"Hey.." Jungkook slips inside, looking around, giving a small, polite smile to the few who glance his way. He drops into the seat beside you with a sigh. "i'm sorry, i'm- not late, am i?" "nope, you're just in time." he nods, taking in the atmosphere and how...scary this feels. he sees you clenching your hoodie, in nervousness. so he reaches out to hold your hand, you do. and you feel comfort almost instantly. "uh...so um- what now?"

he asks awkwardly. "we.. wait" you say the obvious, making him chuckle. he keeps glancing up everytime he hears footsteps. there's nothing to talk or ask you since he'd been with you last night. he's pretending to be calm when he's clearly not but he can't show it, you're already anxious, it's only gonna make it worse. when they call your name, Jungkook is already halfway out of his seat. he doesn't know what he's supposed to do, should he walk in with you? or stay out? "do...i come in with you? or do i wait?" he asks you softly.

"do you...wanna see?" you ask and he nods. walking with you inside the room. you're greeted by the doctor who asks you to follow her inside. you're instructed to sit on the reclining bed and pull your hoodie up so your lower stomach is exposed. Jungkook is...standing beside you, unsure where to look. he's stiff, he looks everywhere but you, he's nervous, he has no idea what he should do.

this..whole thing should come with an instructions sheet, pregnancy should come with a manual book, because neither of you two is aware of what you're supposed to do. the doc squeezes some cold gel on you, gliding it around. Jungkook frowns at what she's doing. she moves around your stomach with the equipment, finding the baby on the screen. you look at it, the black and white screen that...shows nothing that you understand.

you swallow lumps of anxiousness, your hand reaches out to hold Jungkook's, and he grips your hand tightly. leaning closer to you. the small monitor shows a flicker of something, it doesn't look like anything but the sound...the sound of something like a tiny drumroll stops your heartbeat for a second. Jungkook's grip on your hand tightens as his brows knit while he looks at the screen. "yes, that's the sound of the heartbeat."

the doctor says, making Jungkook and you sigh. you rest your head back and close your eyes. somehow...the sound of it, though it isn't very clear, its soothing to hear, you could listen to this forever. even if it makes you fear everything for a while. 'there's no going back now..is it?' you think to yourself. the doctor hands you a few prescribed pills, mostly vitamins.

Jungkook is quick to ask her, "dr, her nausea hasn't settled down yet, is there anything she could do or have?" "of course, you can have this for the nausea and start drinking the rest of the pills daily." you glance at the slip and look at her. "if the nausea keeps up, let me know. we'll do something mild or some ginger tea or crackers would do, mostly rest, I'll say." Jungkook nods and mentally keeps it in mind to grab you some ginger tea sachets.

you both settle in his car, it's quiet, something has shifted between you both after the scan and it's all around the air. he looks at you, while you've zoned out. "hey.." he calls you. Jungkook takes his time..finding his words before he speaks. "i've been thinking about this for sometime now." you look at him. "you don't...have to keep doing this, you know.." he murmurs, your brows knit and he soon speaks up again.

"i'm not saying this as if, i don't want this. whatever you choose, i'm always. i mean...always with you. i support every decision but.." he holds your hand, gazing at you with softness. "i also want the best for you and i'm not sure how this is gonna work out, i know i said we can make this work out and yes i will, if you choose to keep this. but...do you want this? doesn't this change the idea of what you want?" he asks softly, not wanting to rub things off but he wants you to make a clear, responsible decision since this is a matter of lives.

not one but three. you take a deep breath and look at Jungkook's hand, his thumb caresses your fingers. calming you. "i..i'm just worried about you-" "you don't have to, you don't have to worry about me. y/n-" he turns to fall you properly. "look at me." he murmurs. "we are in this together, we did this together and if we keep this, we do this together, i don't want you worrying about anything else other than yourself. so tell me...do you want to keep it? are you ready for...this change?" you gaze into his eyes, feeling bad for the man in front of you.

"kook...do you want this?" Jungkook stills for a moment, he...kept asking you the same question but when you asked him, he felt a sting in his heart. not knowing what to answer. "see...difficult right?" you say and he sighs. "Jungkook this is also about you. if you decide to stay- you're gonna be a huge part of this because-" you don't know how to complete it without feeling...weird. so he does it.

"because i'm the father." that sentence was foreign. it didn't feel wrong or uncomfortable though, it just felt... new. not exactly the best feeling but it wasn't bad either. just...new. you nod softly, looking down. "can we talk about this later?" he chuckles when you say that. "bubs this isn't just anything, the baby is growing inside you every second." you sigh.

he's right. but somehow this feeling is getting stronger inside you, the...feeling of wanting this despite all the challenges. "i want to keep this.." you whisper. "i- i just don't know how and what to do about it but i don't think...i want to let this go." you say and that was all for Jungkook to know. he takes his time..then he nods.

"then i want this to. wherever this goes, we will see to it. together."

kook ; do you think we should tell the group about this?

y/n : i don't know, should we?

kook : we probably should, i mean they've been asking why you missed the many dinners

fuck...it's been about a month and you've missed at least 3 dinners with your group. Jungkook was a part of it yet he could never focus of the conversation without thinking and worrying about you. they've been

giving them excuses about work. truth is, you've been going to work every day, but you leave much earlier than you usually do so you definitely can attend the dinners. you informed your boss about it and she was very understanding, didn't complain, only asked you to rest. you're not ready to tell anyone about your pregnancy yet, it's gonna be chaos with all the "whose is it?" "when did you fuck?" "oh my god, what the actual hell?" yeah no..you can't handle all that yet. you need some time.

Jungkook has been coming by whenever he's free, he's been packed up with work so sometimes he can't meet you and he feels terrible since he knows you're nauseated and hasn't settled yet which means you don't eat well. he shows up for grocery shopping and just whenever he's free to hangout, he tries to make more effort to be around. Especially after the day at the clinic, something may have altered his mind, he's always looking out for you.

now. it's...serious. you opened up the door thinking it was Jungkook but...turns out Jimin and Taehyung have had enough, they straight up came home. "well hello ma'am, tf were you doing the past 2 months?" they barge inside. glad you're in a hoodie and shorts and not a tank top. "guys you could've called-" "yeah just for you to ignore our 67 calls." Taehyung says, you sigh, rolling your eyes at them as you sit on the couch beside Jimin.

"you've been MIA. not one meme, not one fucking text at all." "yeah and no sexy slutty outfits!! i'm missing all that shit-" Tae blurts, making you roll your eyes. "you're either depressed or you're hiding something." "wait..are you dying? blink twice if you are-" "guys i'm not ...dying. i'm just tired." you sigh nervously, hugging a cushion to cover up. you're not showing exactly, you look bloated yet...you feel conscious and afraid. "Tired? Of what? You barely come to hang out, you leave work early, and Jungkook's been acting like your damn chauffeur-slash-bodyguard-slash husband!!!" you gulp at the last word. Jimin squints, coming closer to your face.

"are you...okay? is something wrong..like- health wise?" he asks carefully, scanning your face to see any change. "uh..." you hesitate. "sort of-?" "Okay now I'm scared. What is it? Just tell us. We're your friends. You're kinda worrying us." he straightens up soon, the both of them looking at you closely. "i'm...pregnant." you whisper under your breath. you're too tired to lie anymore, you'll eventually be showing more than there's not gonna be anyway to hide, what's the worst that could happen except them going..fucking insane?

"WHAT THE ACTAULLY MOTHER-FATHER FUCK???" Taehyung screams, his eyes bulging out of his head. "PREGNANT?" Jimin asks more...humanly yet dumbfounded. "WHOSE, WHEN- HOW- wait i know how BUT HOWW?!!!!" Taehyung continues to get crazier as the seconds pass. his hands thrown back, his head, he walks side to side trying to grasp what you've just said. you're...awkward yet relieved. keeping this inside of you was a fucking mess.

you feel a certain part of your burden fall off. "wait, does Jungkook know? does the dad know?" now you...can't meet their eyes. because..this is what makes it complicated and ...just uncomfortable. "yeah... he knows." Jimin is suspicious, he didn't take his eyes off you when you told them about this, he's...studying you and the more he watches you the more he knows something is fishy.

"what did Jungkook say? i'm sure he freaked out, he'd been glued to you lately, don't tell me he-" "WAIT, DONT FUCKING TELL ME IT'S...JEON??" Tae..interrupts. you groan, covering your face and just wishing you could hide under a rock. the both of them...froze. you just confirmed it through your actions. "yeah...it's...it's kook-"

silence.

Taehyung probably lets out a sound like a dying whale. Jimin stares at the wall like he's seeing his life flash before his eyes. before they both screamed.

"HOLY FUCK?" "You... slept with Jungkook?" you know you did it but when they say it like that...it's fucked up. "One time, just once... It was... an accident." Taehyung still can't digest this. "HOW IS THAT EVEN... YOU TWO DON'T EVEN... YOU'RE LIKE... LIKE CATS AND DOGS. BEST FRIENDS. NOT... SEX FRIENDS." he gapes. "yeah well...surprise i guess?" Jimin sighs, he calms down and gives you a hug. "Congratulations. You win. You've officially given me a heart attack. But I still love you."

"Me too. I'm just... gonna need a minute." Tae says, walking up to the fridge to grab some cold water. "can we all...sit in silence for a minute?" you ask and they nod. Tae comes to sit beside you, you're sandwiched between the two of them. they've finally calmed down as they hug you from both sides and...you feel consoled, you feel fine. This wasn't that bad, after all. this whole confession. not until, Jungkook walks in without a knock, just using his spare key. "i'm here bubs-" "YOU!" Jungkook frowns, seeing Jimin and Tae mad. "me-?"

"YOU GOT HER PREGNANT, YOU MOTHER FUCKER!" the both of them get on their feet to attack Jungkook and it's honestly funny. you finally...laugh after a long time. "i didn't get her pregnant!!! leave me!!! it's her fault too!!!!" "no! it's never her fault! bitch you should've known!!!" Tae screams, almost punching Jungkook's chest. "yeah! now you're the fucking baby daddy!" Jimin laughs. the three of them stop when they see you laughing hard.

Jungkook's eyes soften as he watches you. how he missed that laugh. "guys.. oh my god..leave him alone. poor Kook has been going through a lot with me already." they smile, walking up to you. you stop laughing and look at them. smiling in silence. Jimin and Taehyung sit beside you while Jungkook kneels down near you. you four have a group hug, Jungkook hugs you from the front while you're sandwiched with the other two too. Jungkook sighs, his face...close to yours. he places a kiss on your forehead and whispers, "god i missed the sound of your laugh."

his hand leaves Jimin's neck, placing it on your stomach, giving it a soft rub before he puts it back on Jimin. Jungkook thought he'd done it secretly but Jimin and Tae noticed it, they...were surprised but..maybe not so surprised either. "guess we are all having a baby now, huh?" Jimin says, making you all chuckle. "can we...celebrate- wait how many months in are you-?" "two." "YOU HID THIS FOR TWO WHOLE FUCKING MONTHS?!!" Tae screams, "guys...we weren't sure plus....we were scared okay. " "fair enough." Jimin murmurs.

"anyway, this calls for a celebration. lemme pull out the win-" "hello? my bubs is pregnant?" this makes your heart..flutter a bit. "huh, your bubs???" "yeah...my bubs!" Jungkook says, winking at you as you giggle. "alright, alright, imma get some strawberry milk then." "nope! We're getting raspberry milk." Jungkook says, confusing the others. "um...why?" "because baby is the size of a raspberry!!!"

The group has been going wild now, the news obviously reached Mina and Hoseok and...it's been fine, they're all very supportive. Mina immediately reached out to you, explained how everything works and what you should and should not do.

Jungkook's been handling this well, or at least that's wat he shows you. he wants to be the chill one because, clearly, you're the anxious one between the two. you never pass a day without feeling guilty of all this which Jungkook always clarifies that it's his mistake too so you should never take the blame for this. he's lowkey scared too, who wouldn't be but he's trying to be calm during situations where you breakdown.

if he doesn't handle it, who would? he also spends much more time with you than he did before and he's glad that he's able to be flexible with his job, because right now you're feeling fatigue at 5pm while watching the tv show and you soon lie down in exhaustion. "it's the 3rd time of the day, i'm so tired of this." you murmur. Jungkook brings your feet to his lap, rubbing them gently. "close your eyes, relax. i've got you. just breathe, okay?"

he mumbles. attempting to soothe you. you groan at the feeling, hoping your stomach settles. "i'm gonna throw up." he quickly turns off the tv and brings one of the cut lime pieces from the fridge, handing them to you so you can suck on it. "better?" you nod. sighing over how...tired all this feels. "i feel like a grandma. i'm so fuckin weak. " "hey..." he caresses your knees and look at you. "you're not weak, you're growing a whole human, that's literally magic."

you roll your eyes and lie your head on the couch. "the quieter the place is, the more i feel to throw up-" "okay, look at me. please please please don't prove i'm right!!!" he dances. "And please, pleasе, please, don′t bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice!!! Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another, I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, ah." he sings out loud, making you laugh.

"Please, please, please, don't throw up for the one hundredth timeeee." you giggle at the silly moves he does while he sings like a broken record. "what are you doing?!!" you ask in between a giggle. "making the room, not so- quiet!!! sing with me, Well, I have a fun idea, babe, maybe just stay inside.." he continues to sing, making you forget that you wanted to throw up, after all...

4 months,

kook : today marks!

y/n : today marks?

jimina : i'm here i'm here tell us

tae : KOOK STOP CREATING SUSPENSE

kook : baby is the size of a........ *drumroll*

y/n : ....go on

tae : this duck is testing us

jimina : you mean dick

tae : yeah yeah

kook : PEACH!!!!!

kook : this calls for some peach boba! i'm on my wayyyyy

Jungkook has been doing his research on pregnancy and he keeps finding interesting facts about it, like telling you what size the baby is through fruits. it makes you laugh, especially how Jungkook texts it but still tells it to you like 10 times throughout the day. you're now heading to your 3rd month and finally the nausea is getting better, you had an appointment today for a development scan and everything was normal, Thank God.

Jungkook takes you out for a drive to grab peach tea boba, he does not stop talking about what he's found out, "so now the baby's fingers are all formed, even the toes and do you know that the facial features are also so much clearer??" "i...i did not know." "what have you been doing y/n???! lemme explain." he's so...into this. maybe he's just doing this for the sake of it and when you think about that, it makes you feel a sting in your heart but then...you look at his face and how enthusiastic he looks, the way his hands move as he speaks.

maybe he's not doing this because he has to, maybe he actually likes this and...wants this? you break down a few times but you're accepting now, you're excited too and it's all because of Jungkook and his support. but is he really into this? "hey bubs?" he whispers when he notices you've zoned out. "is the boba not good?" "oh no no, it's perfect!" he smiles and sips his own. "if you've...got anything in your mind. you'll tell me, right?" he asks.

you hesitate a bit then nod fast. "of course i will. " he looks at you closely, his palm rests on your thigh. making you skip a beat. "you must, okay?" "i will dad." you both crack up at that and he continues talking about 3 month babies and what's happening inside. "i wonder when you'll feel the kicking." he says. "mmm me too-" "you better make me feel it!!" "or?" "or ...no cravings satisfied." you think for some time. quiet. which makes him frown.

"what's on your mind?" you look at him and sigh. "should we find the gender? since like...we can?" Jungkook smiles and nods. "we can, if you'd like that. honestly i would just like to be surprised." he leans back and thinks about it. "do you....want a boy or girl-" he scoffs and shakes his head. "i don't mind any, il love him or her equally, i just want you to deliver a healthy baby." he places his hand on your bump and caresses it. "shall we find out when i deliver then?" "yeah..yeah I'd like that."

5 months,

kook : todayyyyy marks....

y/n : today marksss???

tae : oh my godddddd, fucking tell meeee

kook : baby is the size offff.....**drumroll

tae : this bitch is takin agessssss

jimina : KOOK TELL US

y/n : tell me tell me

kook : MANGO!!!!!

tae : AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

jimina : omgggggggggggggg so cuteeeeeeeeeeeeee

tae : wait what's the gender anyway?

jimina : omg yeahhhh you never told us

kook : y/n and i decided to find out when she gives birth

y/n : yeahh

tae : how will we buy outfits then

y/n : tae, it doesn't have to be pink or blue, colors are colors

now..you're looking completely pregnant with that round tummy. Jungkook's been much more involved than he was, he spends half of his time with you. he's much closer to you now, if... that's even possible considering how he's always been so close to you. the stretch marks are appearing and so is your funny appetite. now you eat like you've never seen food before.

it makes Jungkook happy, he's more than joyful to make food for you, especially after seeing you have the worst time back then, you dropped so much weight when you found out about your pregnancy. Jungkook massages your swollen feet with cream, as he speaks about work. you've been working from home, it's easier than travelling everyday. with your crazy appetite , Jungkook feels sad to leave you some days, he wishes he could just...be with you so when you have a late-night craving, you don't have to be sad about it and cry over the phone..

"but i really want it, kook...." he's helpless since its 3aam and...he's not around, plus the shops are closed too. so he consoles you with, "tomorrow, first thing in the morning, i'm gonna bring you pickles and ice cream only from Mcdonald's, like you want." and he does. but...you're not satisfied since the craving wasn't there. Jungkook mentally thinks, he should move in with you but ...that would mean being around you...all the time. which, isn't the best idea sometimes. "oh my goodness, i'm starving. "

"wait..where's the radish?" you ask quietly, as Jungkook almost puts the dumplings in his mouth. "um...what radish-" "KOOK, I TOLD YOU I WANTED PICKLED RADISH!!" you cry, making him panic. "baby i- i'm sorry i forgot-" "i want it..so so bad." you sniff, your sweat shirt sleeves cover your eyes as you leans again the couch, crying about..radish.

Jungkook feels his heart break, he didn't mean to..forget. "bubs, give me just.. 10 mins-" "but i feel bad for you- you- haven't eaten all day-" you cry, feeling terrible that he has to leave his meal for your petty craving. "hey hey, you come first okay, just give me 10 mins. i love you." he soon gets on his feet and drives..fucking fast to the nearest shop to grab pickled radish.

taekout will take a long time, plus radish is...radish. it's just a few korean won or sometimes even free. he PANICS, rushing much faster than Shazam or whoever. "i'm here, i'm here." you look up at him wih red eyes. "that- was fast." "i told you i won't take long, here bub, have all you want." he settles the bag and you rip it, gobbling the radish with Nutella-

"mmmmmmmmm" you moan and throw your head back. Jungkook gasps for air as he'd spent the last 5 mins in a rush yet he giggles. he just...loves seeing you happy and giddy. you do your happy dance, that pregnant belly out, your face is starting to look more round, fuller and he can't help but think you're the cutest woman ever. "happy?" "oh kook, i could kiss you right. this. minute." "go on, permission granted." You laugh, light and giddy, while he grins and digs into his dumplings. It's wild, he'd been starving all day, but just watching you eat made him feel full.

what sort of sorcery is this?

"oh- 0H!" you gasp, breathing heavily, making him frown in concern. "hey what's wro-" "come here." he gets closer to you, right beside you, worried. "hey bubs-" you take his hand and place it on your belly. he looks down and stares, concern written all over his face. "do.. you feel that?" you ask and- he feels a kick. his eyes bulge out and he thinks he might die.

"fuck!!" he places both his hands and wait, for one more and it happened. he giggles and laughs and feels his heart about to explode. "oh my god- baby!!!!" he murmurs and you chuckle. "i've been feeling some movement, didn't tell you so i could surprise y-" "i wish i could kiss you right fucking now!" he says, his eyes still on your bump caressing it, so lovingly. you gaze at him, taking in how close he is to you. you whisper, "you can."

he glances at you, scanning your face, how close he is to you. he doesn't hesitate, he presses his lips on you and your hands throw around his neck, pulling him down. "god i missed this." he whispers against your lips as you grin. "missed me?" he pulls away, his palm cups your cheek, he nods. "miss all about you."

6 months,

"baby is doing well, i'm glad." you hear the heart beat and sigh in relief. Jungkook stands beside you, holding your palm. a wide smile on his face as he looks at the screen and observes the movements. "look at how beautiful out little one is." he says and you nod. "we...are going baby shopping-" he whsipers to your ears while the dr wipes of the gel from your tummy. "but you're not gonna buy more of what we have-" "fine fine, i won't!"

"we need to get these- FUCKING TEENY WEENY SOCKS!" Jungkook screams. he holds a pair of bow printed socks and almost faints. it's smaller than his palm and he...feels his heat rate slow down. he can't hold on anymore, he's gonna pass the fuck ou- "we already have a billion socks Kook, you got like 30 pairs last week, Jimin too and Tae got like a bunch of shoes. baby's gonna grow up way before she or he could like wear 3 of them. " you say, practically.

"you need to shut the fuck up y/n, because i'm getting it." stubborn. "we don't have all the space in my apartment, Kook. think straight." "oh i am, we are moving so just...stop and let me buy these 100 pairs for my baby." "it's bows though- we don't know the gen- we are moving where????" he just dropped a bomb out of no where. "yeah we are, you're moving with me, we're getting a house." "kook i'm not your wife-" "then be mine."

pause.

"because you have no say, sweetheart." he presses a kiss on your cheek and smirks. "ewww no way! i'm not gonna be your wife" "says the one who's carrying my child." "it's my child." "no it's mine." "you- no kicks today!" you smirked and walked past the socks section because you don't need anymore. he gapes at you, then he frowns. "you're so fucking mean! you can't deprive me of my rights. " "bo ho, cry about it!"

Jungkook and you come back home, groaning about how tired your feet are. he places all the baby items in the spare room you had, it's a mess there, with all the baby belongings piling up. he runs you a quick bath and prep your vitamins and bed so you can slip right into the sheets and sleep. "your turn to shower. " "oh no, i'll get going-" you pout and drop your head down.

"oh..." his heart.. clenches at how fucking adorable you look, dressed up in a really huge sweatshirt that shows your little belly so nicely and shorts, your hair down and your face glowing from all the skincare. "do you...not what me to go?" you look up at him and blink a few times, slowly nodding. he hides his smile and shakes his head. "but i thought you didn't want to move in with me." you frown. "how does this concern with moving? plus..that was a joke wasn't it"

he scoffs and gets closer to you, he picks on the threads from your sweat shirt as he smiles. "this...all this is about moving. you wanting me to spend the night is pretty much how it will be when you move in and no bubs, i ...was not joking." your heart stopped for a moment. "but think about it, of course. take your time. i'll..shower and be back." he bops your nose and heads to the shower, freezing you in spot. moving with Jungkook? being with Jungkook all the time... sounds tempting, sounds..so homely. but that definitely means a lot more, deeper, right?

"baby...stop moving around, don't be too excited!" you mumble to yourself. you come out of the shower, the bed is empty, meaning that Jungkook is out sleeping on the couch..again. you slowly walk to the living room, to find him and he's seated there, zoned out. he sees you from the corner of his eyes and smiles. "hey bubs, anything you want?" you shake your head and stand in front of him. he looks up at you and smiles. those dimples... "bubs?" "why are you out here?" you ask softly, with a pout. swaying side to side as his hand wraps around your palm.

his expressions twists. "i was gonna sleep, did you want to watch so-" "sleep with me." Jungkook's eyes soften when you say that, he just wants to cuddle you till you scream for help. "i...have trouble sleeping sometimes and-" "you don't have to explain, i'll hop on the bed in a minute okay?" he mumbles and you nod. he places a chaste kiss on your palm and motions you to get going. you smile and waddle your way to your room.

Jungkook mentally wishes he could stab himself with the knife in front of him on the coffee table with the apples. you can not be so adorable. he would give you all his sleep even if that would mean he would have sleepless nights for his entire life. what are you doing to him? this is not how he's supposed to feel. Jungkook gets to your room after he'd drunk a glass of water, he sees you already in bed, looking up the ceiling. when he enters you smile and move so he can jump right in. he locks the door and gets under your cover.

you face him, he does too. giggles fill the quiet room. he whispers, "good night bubs." "good night kook." you creep into his chest, feeling instant relief in his warmth. You fight to stay awake, just to feel a little more of his touch, but his fingers in your hair say, rest, and so you do.

7 months,

"baby is the size of a pumpkin today." Jungkook whines cutely as he enters your apartment and throws his jacket and camera bag on the couch. he'd come straight over to yours like he always does now. he basically lives here, it's not every other day now, he comes over, every single day. and spends the weekend overnight.

"no way, that's such a coincidence, i just made pumpkin soup tonight!" you squeak from the kitchen. he walks over to you, giving you a quick back hug. "i've missed you so much, turn around, show me my little muffin." you turn and Jungkook places his hands on either side of your belly, looking at it with affection. "hi muffin, dada's back home!!!"

"your muffin has been quiet today." he frowns, pauses for a while and glances at you. "is that something we should be concerned abo-" "oh no no it's totally normal, Mina told me." Jungkook sighs in relief and places a kiss on your bump. "pumpkin's fine, must be having a gloomy day or maybe just sleepy." he takes a spoonful of the soup for a taste test.

"probabl- woppp!!! baby's awake!!" you laugh, Jungkook almost chokes on the hot soup. he runs to you, placing his palms on your bump. his eyes sparkle as he feels the kicks and movements, much stronger and frequent than it used to be. "seems like muffin's got their favourite already." "oh whatever." you roll your eyes. "let's have dinner," The two of you curl up on the couch, each with a bowl of soup in hand. It's getting tougher to stay in one position for too long, so the couch is the comfiest spot to get cozy.

Jungkook gets some warm bread and butter to dip in, you ask him for the pickle jar and he brings that too. you both laugh and enjoy dinner beside each other, while watching a movie. Jungkook glances at you from time to time and smiles, he helps you with the bread, feeds you the pickles and rests on your lap, his head close to your bump, placing frequent kisses..he thinks this is...so nice. This is the nicest part of his life in a long time.

8 months,

"i can't see my feet!!!!" you scream. Jimin rushes to you, thinking you're in need of help. "what- what-" "i can; t see my feet, Jiminie!!!" he....bursts out in laughter. holding his stomach, as he places to the floor. "what?!!" you place your hands on your waist and frown. "oh my god- help me-" Jungkook comes in with a concerned expression on his face.

"what's the matter-" "look at how fucking adorable your girlfriend is, Kook!" Jungkook glances at you and pouts. you're whining about..not being able to see your little feet. his heart falls to his feet, he wants to carry you in his arms and peck kisses all around your face. you can not be this cute, it's tearing him to pieces. he tries so hard not to show a reaction but ... he can't. he closes his eyes, covers his face and mumbles awwww under his breath. "you guys are so fucking annoying, i wanted help and you're laughing!!"

Jungkook walks to you, cups your face and pecks your lips. again. you smile. and again. and again until you're a giggling mess. and Jimin is faking a throw up. "i did not pay to see my best friends kiss!" "then get out of here." Jungkook mutters as he kisses you again. "hey..." you whisper. butterflies flying all around your stomach. "i'm sorry you were just..so cute-" he chuckles, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs. you hide and smile and look down.

"you really can't see your feet-" "nooo i can't!!!" you whine and he laughs. "fuck since when were you this cute, huh?" "uh since like forever?" he bops your nose and locks his forehead with yours, staying like that for sometime. "i've been thinking...."you begin. "i...would like to move in with you, if that's still in plan?" you ask and he freezes. he parts from you and scans your face. you've got nothing but certainty and glitter. "you sure- because that would mean...you know-"

you raise your eyebrows, asking him to continue. "that would mean, were like..a couple-" "kook, you've practically been living with me the past few months. " he thinks about it and sighs. you..frown when a thought crosses your mind. "hey...if you want to be with someone or..date someone else please do. i'll never stop you from anything, we could be just roommates and..you can live your life kook, this whole thing was a mess but i can handle it. Besides, i think you should get back to the way you were before. please party and have fun, don't let this stop you from getting someo-"

he presses his lips on yours, the kiss being slow and deep. you really don't know how this kissing business began when it was all supposed to be a one time thing. because Jungkook finds every little opportunity to kiss you adn- it feels good it feels amazing and nice but..what's happening? "k-kook-" you pull away and look into his eyes. they're dark and..needy. "what's all this about?" you ask. his eyebrows knit. "what do you mean?"

"Since when have we been kissing like this?" he breathes, pulling back slightly, eyes searching yours. You blink, heart thudding. "What do you mean?" He steps away completely this time, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe this," he mutters under his breath. Confused, you take a hesitant step forward. "Believe what?" He looks at you, exasperated, soft, almost desperate. "How blind you are." you flinch. "Can you explain what's going on...please.." He exhales, like he's been holding it in for too long.

"Y/N," he says quietly, "I like you. I've liked you. Was that... not obvious?" he confesses. you freeze at his confession, shivers run through your body. "What?" you mouth, stunned, and he steps in closer. "Why would I want anyone else," he says, voice firm, "when all I want is you?" You shake your head, voice cracking. "No- no. You're only saying this because I'm pregnant with your-"

"Bullshit, Y/N," he snaps, but his tone is thick with emotion. "Nothing.. nothing in this world could force me. Not even this pregnancy." He exhales, softer now. "I won't deny it... this pregnancy is what made me confront it. But it's not the reason."

He gently cups your face, brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. "I fell for you. Not because of the baby, not because of anything else...just you. The only reason I like you, love you... is you. And it'll always be you." you cry at his words. your pregnancy emotions are making this much harder. you sob when he pulls you into a hug. you feel so complete. you like him too but...you just didn't know it was possible. you're so glad he said it.

because it's easier for you to say it. "i...i like you too- kook-" he chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair. "oh my god such a beautiful confession-" Jimin enters the room, clapping his hands and fake sniffing. "my heart- ouch- it's...so heavy after this-" "shut the hell up Jimin, get out of here!" you both scream at the same time. "guys guys...i'm so happy for you both!"

you tease each other and of course, Jungkook kisses your lips. "come on now, let me tie your shoe lace." he gets on his knees and ties it just right. "perfect." "is it? cause i don't see anything!" you say, making Jimin and Jungkook laugh. "it's all done, princess. shall we leave?"

you nod and walk beside them. "i want mint ice cream with ummm a drizzle of pickle juice and cut up pickles!!!" your eyes sparkle at your craving. "stop-i think i'm gonna throw the fuck up-" "ah i'm used to her cravings, come on baby let's satisfy muffin's craving!"

9 months,

"nooooooo!!! taeeee stop, it's not right!!!" you cry. taehyung fake hits his head on the wall whe you whine for the 189th time of the hour. "what do you want me to do y/n? I'm not fucking NASA, I can't calculate crib alignment with the moon!" he groans and falls to the ground, dramatically. "you're of no use, i hate you!!!!" you yell. "what's the chaos about?"

"oh my god, thank fuck thank fuck! Kook pleaseeee, please save me from your crazy pregnant girlfriend, she's fucking eating my last brain cell. please help me" "you ass-" you throw a baby shoe at his face which he dodges quick. "what's the matter?" he turns to you, asking you gently. "the crib isn't centered." you pout. his eyes soften as he nods. "i'll help you, yeah?"

you nod like a child. and his heart clenches. "yeah yeah why bother calling me when Prince Charming always saves the day-" "shut up Tae." Jungkook takes his time, he places the crib, moves behind, checks if it's in the center, if he thinks no, he'll move it again. all this takes nearly and hour but he does it. "bubs, come here!" he calls for you. you take one look at the crib and jump, clapping your hands. "it's so perfect!!!!" "yeah?" "oh my god, thank you Kook!!!!" you hug him and he melts in your touch. "y'all tf i placed it the exact way- y'all are so fuckin dramatic and FAKE!

you moved in with Jungkook after almost a month, you're just a few days till delivery and everything's been stressful. You're not allowed to walk around, Jungkook has strictly warned you to stay in bed or on the couch, he'd kept Jimin as your security guard. Sometimes you would beg Jimin to allow you to walk out the garden that you have now in the new house and poor him, he feels so bad, his eyes say so much but he denies softly. unlike Tae, who just straight up blackmail you, "i'm gonna tell kook and you're gonna be busted!"

The process of moving in has been much easier with the boys around, even Hoseok. the nursery was set up, you helped fold the clothes while Jimin and Tae put up the shelves, toys and books. Jungkook did all the setup of the room you both will be sharing now. he hung up all the clothing, his and yours. since the house was already furnished, there wasn't much work. it's a cozy three bedroom house, elegant, white and beautiful. sufficed just what you both wanted.

of course, Jungkook did the painting for the nursery and- didn't even tell you about it. he'd been doing it since the first day he spoke about moving in. like he planned all of this up and..it happened. it's crazy to him too. he never really thought he would actually confess or..fall in love with you but it just happened. how can it not when you're an amazing woman, he's been attracted to since forever he just never noticed it since he loved you platonically. you left your job eventually, you enjoyed passing your days with different hobbies.

you liked being at home, doing whatever you thought at the moment, without having to follow the working hours. you felt so free and...you lived in the moment. Jungkook loved the idea of working for both of you now, he wants to work more. he wants to build the life you want. he's enjoying it,so are you. every night, Jungkook would whisper to your bump, he'll place his head gently on it and say

"i'm so excited to meet you muffin! mama and dada is waiting for you! i can't wait to find out of you'll be my baby boy or girl. I love you, i love you so much and your mama too, even though your mama ...can be very annoying and - " "stop kook!!" you both still banter around, it keeps your relationship alive. These playful fights, you never miss being friends because it's always there. the fun and the fighting.

you officially moved a few days later and had not completely settled in yet, there was still stuff to do like setting up the kitchen and living room, but the main rooms were all done and dusted. Jungkook was very cautious around you, he helped you shower and get into bed, fed you the vitamins and packed the hospital bags for the baby and you. you were...a day later than delivery and it made you worry, you felt your tummy being low,

which was a sign for delivery but...a day later was stressing you out. Jungkook attempts to calm you down even if he was jittery and nervous. he had to be the patient one here. he consoled you time to time, being around you every second just in case you felt anything. he stepped out to collect the dinner by takeout and- he hears you scream his name. Jungkook drops the package and runs to you.

The bed is soaked with a large wet patch, and you're clutching your belly, crying out in pain. "Oh-oh my god," Jungkook breathes, panic in his voice as he scrambles to call the boys for help. Without wasting a second, he rushes you to the hospital, speeding through the streets. Your screams fill the car, high-pitched and desperate. it triggers him. His eyes almost well up with tears.

"Bubs, I'm almost there. You're gonna be okay," he repeats like a prayer, trying to keep it together.

Everything unfolds in under an hour.

You're wheeled in on a stretcher, your clothes quickly cut away, and before you even have time to fully process it, you're delivering the baby. The doctor looks relieved, even pleased. Your water had already broken, and the time it took to get you there allowed labor to progress. By the time you were in the delivery room, the baby's head had already crowned.

It's fast, almost too fast....and within moments, your little one enters the world. the room quietened down from your echoing screams...For a second, it's too quiet.

No one says anything. Jungkook's breath catches, your heart's in your throat...

Then suddenly, the baby cries.

Loud and real. You both exhale at once. Jungkook lets out this broken laugh, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"She's here," the doctor whispers, placing the baby girl on your chest. Jungkook gets closers, like he can't believe it. he takes one look at the little rose bud and almost passes out. "she's so perfect. she's so-" his voice cracked up. "i love you both so much. i love you both so so much!"

Jungkook had unknowingly given you the life you've always wanted, the one he promised, although it might've begun as a mistake, everything was god's plan. There couldn’t have been anyone better than him. Jungkook is welcomed home by his wife and a baby daughter, Ara.

min's notes,

ahhh i finally wrote a one-shot!! i never thought i could write something for 20k words but yay i finally did it! hope you enjoyed reading, there's a series of one-shots, in my head. much more to come! would love to know what you think of this fic!!! and what tropes should i do next? ( new masterlist will be uploaded soon )

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athenalvss · 18 hours ago

Note

Imagine a Dick Grayson x reader where Bruce accidentally walks in on them

YES, MY LOVE? ( Dick grayson! )

summary: Dick has a broken leg, a beautiful girlfriend, and a nice bed in a house where no one is around, so why shouldn't he enjoy his moment in the spotlight?

pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

cw: smut ( p in v), get caught.

open request - Dick masterlist

The manor was completely silent. Everything was wrapped in soft shadows, with the moon filtering through the hallway's enormous windows and the night breeze caressing the heavy curtains.

You'd received a message from Dick during the day asking you to come to the mansion to keep him company while he rested. He was tired of sitting alone, staring at the ceiling, counting nonexistent cracks, and complaining about "the sad temporary death of his nightlife." So why would you say no to your poor boyfriend with a broken leg?

You crossed the entrance without making a sound, went straight up to his room, and when you opened the door you found him lying on the bed, with an open book on his chest, the cast resting on several pillows and the face of a dramatic martyr.

"As far as I can see, you're alive, darling. How lucky you are." You said from the doorway, taking off your jacket.

"Barely. You don't know what it was like to watch three documentaries in a row about antique furniture restoration. I'm about to ask Alfred if I can rearrange the bookcase by color."

You approached, giggling, and carefully climbed onto the bed, lying down beside him. "So you need me to keep you from leaving your life as a security guard and becoming a decorator?"

"Exactly. My righteous soul is in danger," he replied, turning slightly toward you with that soft smile that seemed innocent as he rested his head on your chest. "And besides... I missed you."

You stroked his jaw, and he closed his eyes for a second, as if that simple gesture was what he truly needed to heal. Your lips found his in a slow, leisurely kiss, until you felt his hands clutch your waist with a mischievous smile until you pulled away. "I missed you too, Dickie."

He groaned faintly, as if hearing that nickname weakened him more than any wound on the battlefield. "Don't call me that if you're not going to stay all night," he said, hiding his smile in your collarbone, his voice vibrating against your skin.

"I have to go to college tomorrow" you sighed, your fingers playing with his hair.

Dick pulled away just to look at you, his brow furrowed slightly and his expression a mixture of Greek tragedy and subtle emotional blackmail.

"You can skip it. For a noble cause. You can say your boyfriend is slowly dying of boredom and needs constant company to survive."

You laughed softly as he gently pulled you towards him again, cradling you against his chest. "You're very persuasive for someone who's immobilized in one leg."

“I’m using the only thing I have left: my charm,” he replied in a deep voice, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t leave me tonight, i beg you, im young, vulnerable and horny”

You rolled your eyes, but clung to him with the same need. Dick had that dangerous ability to persuade; the way he touched you made you dizzy, the way each touch felt as natural as breathing. At some point, between laughter, soft kisses, and wordless promises, you both ended up under the sheets, sharing the warmth of a moment that seemed eternal. You couldn't help but think the force he used while he tried to move with his leg in a cast was ridiculous, but even that was adorable in its clumsiness. And you couldn't help but help him settle in while he gently pulled you on top of him, as if nothing could hurt him more tonight than the distance between you.

"Dick, are you sure there's no one here?"

"Trust me," he replied with absolute certainty, running a hand down your back. "We have the mansion to ourselves. It's a blessing from the universe. As if Gotham were saying: Today, Dickie, today is your turn to be happy."

You kissed him again, deeper this time. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he caressed your waist, his breathing mingling with yours. Your legs were on either side of his hips, the heat between you slowly rising like a tide. His hands, firm but gentle, gripped your waist, slowly guiding you to continue grinding his clothed cock, which you could feel growing at the friction of your panties.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky from the closeness, while his fingers went up just below your shirt, trying to remove it and let him see your songs moving to your rhythm.

Your smile curved at the sight of him so exhausted. You slowly lowered your torso until his lips found yours again. The kiss was hungrier, deeper. Your hands moved up to his already ready cock, feeling his muscles tense beneath your fingers.

"You're killing me," he murmured through gritted teeth, his smile barely trembling as he felt his cock sink into your wetness. "What a beautiful way to die."

"sure no one's there, right?" you whispered against his ear, a playful smile on your lips. "I don't want them to see me riding on your cock."

"I told you..." Dick whispered, smiling against your neck as he held you against him, not wanting you to move yet, both of you in his bed, sharing the warmth under the sheets. "No one's home. Alfred's in the cave, and Bruce left tonight. He never comes around."

His lips moved down your collarbone, and you chuckled, stroking his messy hair. His leg was in a cast, yes, but that hadn't stopped him from moving his hips toward you with that signature "I've been through worse, this isn't going to slow me down" look.

His hips found a rhythm of their own, slow but determined, grinding against you with clear purpose. That smile of his settled on his face.

"Look, I'm hurt, huh?" he murmured against your skin. "You could show me some mercy."

"More mercy than this?" you replied, unable to stop yourself from laughing softly, your voice barely trembling from everything you were feeling. "I'm riding you with my tits in your face. I can't do much more..."

Dick's laugh was drowned in a deep sigh. His fingers gripped your waist tightly, as if he needed to anchor himself to you so he wouldn't lose his mind.

The room, once silent save for broken whispers, was now filled with rapid breathing, wet thuds, and the creaking of the bed as the heat grew between you. It was a moment suspended in time, so intimate that it hurt to think it might end soon.

Dick's lips found yours in a hungry, almost desperate kiss, while his body, still limited, surrendered completely to what you allowed him to do. "Keep squeezing my cock baby, I'm gonna cum, shit," he murmured, his voice breaking, his forehead resting against yours.

Your hips began to move with more urgency, as if each touch sought to satisfy all the pent up needs of all those days of waiting. Dick looked at you as if you were all he needed to stay whole, as if the pain in his leg were just background noise compared to the comfort of having you like this, so close, so devoted. His fingers trembled slightly against your skin, but they didn't stop clinging to you, guiding you, seeking more of that connection that seemed to envelop them completely.

"Don't stop," he murmured, his voice hoarse, against your neck. "Please... don't stop."

"Dick, are you awake?" Bruce's deep voice cut off abruptly.

Both of you froze in that instant even though you had both had the best orgasm since you started dating, still feeling his thick threads of cum filling your soaked pussy, your first reaction was to cover yourself with the sheet up to your head, leaving Dick with his head resting against your chest, letting out an exhausted grunt.

Bruce didn't move for a couple of long seconds. "...You should be resting," he said at last, in that serious, dry tone he used when he was suppressing the urge to lecture.

"I was resting," Dick replied without lifting his head from your breasts, still hidden in the sheets.

"And no lock on the door."

"Whose fault is that?"

Bruce took a deep breath through his nose, as if he were doing mental yoga to keep from setting the mansion on fire. "Finish ruining the bed," he said, turning toward the hallway. "But we'll talk tomorrow."

Clic.

The door closed firmly.

Silence.

Dick stood there, leaning against you, completely motionless.

"Richard?"

"Yes my love?"

"I'm gonna kill you"

#dc x reader #dc masterlist #dick grayson masterlist #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #imagine nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing smut #Nightwing masterlist #smut #x reader

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paucubarsisimp · 2 days ago

Note

Hello, I was wondering if would write a Max Verstappen fic.

Like the reader is of Max's age and she is a surgery resident and has a very close relationship with GP. Max asks her to come to the upcoming race but she refuses at first and then surprises him by suddenly appearing in a race weekend. And now she is super exhausted with all the travel and her studies. So, GP takes care that it remains a surprise by sneaking her inside the garage and then Max takes care of her when he realises what happened.

And I love your writing style and I hope you have a wonderful day

smuggled in

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: in which you are quite busy as a surgery resident, but GP helps you surprise max at a race

warnings: none!

the call ends the same way it always does lately — with you tired, max quiet, and neither of you saying what you really want to.

“i can’t come to the race,” you’d told him, trying not to let the guilt sneak into your voice. “i’ve got three back-to-back shifts and two mock codes this weekend. it’s just not possible.”

“yeah,” he said, too fast. “i get it.”

you both pretended not to notice the silence that followed.

you should’ve expected it from GP. it’s very him — quiet scheming, smug planning, and pretending like he’s notemotionally invested in your relationship.

“what if i flew you out?” he says casually one night while you’re shoveling cold rice into your mouth on your dinner break.

you blink, staring at your phone. “uh. what?”

“just for the weekend,” he says. “you’re off-call. i already checked with max’s PA—”

“you checked my schedule?”

“listen, if you’re gonna date our golden boy, you’re gonna have to get used to me knowing everything.”

you snort, too tired to argue. “i can’t. i have so much to study—”

“and you can do it in a quiet motorhome with AC, real food, and your boyfriend sneaking in to kiss you between sessions,” he says. “or you can do it on your couch with a broken fan and your flatmate’s ferret crawling into your bag again.”

you exhale slowly. “you’re insufferable.”

“i’ll take that as a yes.”

you land in budapest at some ungodly hour, your body aching in that specific way it only does when you’ve been awake too long and running on pure caffeine. GP’s waiting at the back gate like he’s doing a drug deal, sunglasses on and hands in his pockets.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, dragging your bag behind you.

“you love it.”

you kind of do.

he sneaks you through the back of the paddock, avoiding cameras and nosy PR reps. you catch a glimpse of max’s helmet on a rack in the garage and feel your chest tighten in that warm, too-full way that only ever happens when you see him in his element.

“you’ll stay hidden in the motorhome until fp2’s over,” GP says. “he won’t even know you’re here.”

“you’re way too good at this.”

“i contain multitudes.”

he ushers you into a quiet lounge space at the far end of the building — dim lighting, a wide couch, blanket already folded neatly on top.

“sleep,” he says. “you look like you’re about to pass out mid-sentence.”

“because i am.”

you barely make it out of your shoes before you’re out cold.

max walks into the motorhome after fp2 expecting nothing. a drink, maybe. a briefing note. maybe a new hat.

he does not expect to see you.

you’re curled up on the couch in one of his old hoodies, a textbook open on your stomach, hair a mess, blanket tangled around your legs. you look exhausted. beyond exhausted.

“what the hell,” he says under his breath, blinking like you might be a mirage.

GP walks past casually, sipping his coffee. “don’t look at me. she just showed up.”

max ignores him. walks over slowly, kneels beside you like he’s afraid to wake you too fast. he reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek.

your eyes flutter open, slow and heavy with sleep.

“hey,” you whisper, confused. “wait. you’re—oh. right.”

“hi,” he says softly, smiling now. “you’re here.”

you nod, already half-asleep again. “blame GP.”

“i’ll send him a fruit basket.”

you smile, eyes falling shut again. “missed you.”

he leans in, kisses your forehead, then your temple, then just stays there for a second.

“missed you more.”

by the time you’re awake again, it’s early evening. the sky outside the window’s gone soft and orange, and you can hear the low buzz of the paddock still moving around you.

max is sitting on the floor beside the couch, your textbook in his lap.

“did you seriously try to study while i was gone?” he asks, amused.

“i was trying to be productive,” you mumble, stretching your arms over your head. “but then the couch ambushed me.”

“yeah, that tends to happen.” he grins. “i brought food. and ice cream. and i banned GP from entering for the next hour.”

“so romantic.”

you both eat on the floor, backs against the couch, sharing bites and talking about nothing — your last shift, his feedback from FP2, the new guy in cardio who keeps microwaving tuna in the resident lounge.

he keeps looking at you like he’s still not convinced you’re real.

“i thought you couldn’t come,” he says eventually.

“i couldn’t,” you say softly. “but then i realized i kind of needed to.”

max leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “yeah. me too.”

later, after dinner and half a pint of cookie dough ice cream, he pulls you into his lap on the couch. you curl into him like second nature — knees up, head tucked under his chin, arms wrapped around his torso.

“you have to get back sunday night?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“mhm. shift starts at six.”

“brutal.”

“you gonna send me off with one of your hats again?”

“depends,” he murmurs. “you want the lucky one or the one that makes my head look huge?”

you smile, eyes already slipping shut again. “surprise me.”

he brushes his fingers through your hair, soft and slow.

“you know,” he says quietly, “i think this might be my favorite surprise ever.”

you hum against his chest. “don’t let GP hear that. he’ll make it weird.”

“too late.”

but you’re already asleep, heart settled, body warm, and everything else — the races, the hospital, the pressure — fades away for just a little while.

and in the quiet corners of the paddock, max holds you like he never wants to let go.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted, @landoslutmeout , @linnygirl09, @spidybaby, @freyathehuntress, @dakotapaigelove,@beathreat,@dessashippr lmk if you want to be added or removed!

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writtencrone · 15 hours ago

Text

"Your husband knows about me, intimately."

Yandere! Dilf x bttm male reader

You had always assumed your sugar mommy was either single or had a very free relationship with her husband. You learn this isn't the case after you meet a man at a bar, and find that he knows more about you than you'd like.

Anal sex, anal fingering, rough sex, you break the bed on this one, stalking, cum tribute, possessive behaviour, cheating, infedility, mentions of m/f sex but never fully described because I'm lazy!

“Your husband knows about us,” you say.

You're sitting across from her in her tea room, and she's just served you some rare yellow tea (‘you look so pale, darling’). Your relationship with Claudia was not vague, it was defined and signed. You'd be her companion in moments like these, as usual after you've fucked and reached mutal bliss for however long or little Claudia wants. In return you were allowed a fixed stipend that covered all your living costs and then some.

You had been a host before, that's how you met this elegant and beautiful woman, but Claudia always liked to possess things. So she approached you with this contract. The idea of being a thing was less threatening when you could also afford other nice things.

“Yes, I suppose he does,” Claudia says, lounging in her afterglow. She wore only a silken robe, and you your boxers

“He's not… upset?” You ask, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your spine.

Claudia rolls her eyes. “Just drink your tea, darling. Charles is only upset when business is bad.”

Ofcourse, before this, you had met Charles – not knowing he was the Charles. Now you found yourself metaphorically wedged between these two wealthy sycophants.

About a week ago…

Yandere! Dilf who… You meet at a bar one night with your friends. You peel off from the group to sit and talk with the handsome older man sat in a booth by himself. He's hard to talk to at first, withdrawn. Eventually, you coax him to open up, buying him a drink and leaning in closely – it reminds you of your days working as a host. The satisfaction of earning a regular customer.

Yandere! Dilf who… Tell you his wife is cheating on him, and you sympathise with him. Nevermind the fact your sugar mommy is a married woman, because that's different . You assume your sugar mommy (lady, as she prefers it) has some sort of agreement with her husband, and never questioned it further. You brought him another drink, nodded and put your hand on his as he vented about years of an unsatisfactory marriage.

Yandere! Dilf who… When you place your hand on his thigh, leaning in closely. You know he's hard, You ask if he wants revenge, your lips ghosting over his. He says he just wants you.

Yandere! Dilf who… Drives you to his penthouse with a hand on your thigh, you lean across the space, talking, slightly tipsy. When you get home you both fumble in the dark, you ask for light but he says no – not until you're in the bedroom. You pout and ask him why he doesn't want to see you, he silences you a kiss and half your clothes are off by the time the back of your knees hit the bed.

Yandere! Dilf who… guides to your knees with his big hands, calloused yet surprisingly soft. You undo his belt and zipper, and he makes a joke about how every silver fox has a silver tail when you oggle at the silver streaked in his pubic hair. You had to turn your head into his thigh as you stifled a slight laugh, not because it's funny but because it is so bad. He instructs you to stand, and puts down a pillow for you to kneel on. It was a mercy, because you were there a while.

Yandere! Dilf who… moans and groans, rocking his hips into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and suck, pulling yourself off his dick to run your tongue down his entire length and swipe across his balls. Before immediately putting it back in your mouth and taking it to the hilt, his pubic hairs were ticklish against your face as you deep throated him. He moaned, his hands tangling in your hair. You started to choke around him, the fluttering of your throat so euphoric he released down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, spots danced across your vision - death by dick?

Yandere! Dilf who…pulls you off leisurely, admiring how the mix of semen and spit connect your lips to his departing tip. He holds you there, head tilted back as you gulp for air.

“I hope your appetite isn't ruined,” he says, and oh how he stares down at you. You feel dissected.

“I'm just getting started.”

Yandere!Dilf who… fingers you for a horrible amount of time. He works you open leisurely, cooing about how good you'll look on his cock whilst a finger curls against your prostrate. You whine, and by the end of it you're taking three fingers with ease.

“That was quicker than I thought,” his gravelly voice remarks, hitching one of your legs over his shoulder. He presses a kiss to the ankle, and you actually blush. “I suppose you have experience in this as well, I almost forgot.”

Before you can ask ‘hey what do you mean by that. Your dick was ticking my lungs areoli just a minute ago—’ followed quickly by ‘wait aren't areola my nipples?’ he buries himself in you in a brutal snap of his snap.

Your mouth is agape in a silent scream, drifting off into a whine as you bury your head into the pillows, your legs were kicking uselessly as your body was catching up the sensation of fullness.

Yandere! Dilf who… fucks you tenderly then brutally, holding you close then pinning you down, reducing you to a creature halfway to grief out of how much it was, and halfway to total bliss out of how good it was.

The lewd sounds of skin against skin overpowered your cries, your wanton moans.

Yandere! Dilf who… is an attentive lover, which makes him all the more crueler when he knows you're reaching out to hold him, to find some leverage as he plowed you into the mattress, and he denies you with a tsk. Your knees are by your shoulders and your feet somewhere higher as he finds leverage in this position where you can't cover yourself – can't flee.

You whimper and fist at the sheets, the pillows tossed to the ground after you tried to hide in them. You were drooling, weeping, flushed red and your eyes rolled back into your head as you came with a shout. He lifts your hips higher, thrusts deeper, and beneath you the creaking bed cracks once and for all. You yelp as a sudden dip forms…

You guys broke the bed.

When he finishes you feel his warmth pool in your gut like a match, you let out a whine when he pulls out – half hard.

“We're not done just yet.”

Yandere! Dilf who… is good at after care. He cleans you up, inspects the bites he left on you and confirms none of them broke skin (“A shame.”), carries you limp in his arms to the washroom. He lathers you, holds you. He doesn't demand more, and when you lay down on his bed you look at him, a little nervous, and ask.

“Do you want me to stay?”

He tilts his head to the side.

“What ever made you think I'd want you to leave?”

You let yourself be gathered into his arms, you breathe in his expensive body wash and fall asleep like that. Sandalwood and citrus notes on your mind.

Yandere! Dilf who… doesn't wake up first. You slip out of his arms and drape a robe around yourself, stumbling out of the room quietly whilst picking up your clothes. Your lower back is aching, but it's lost in all the hickeys that crown your collarbone. You'd almost think him a vampire for how much he'd latch onto you.

Yandere! Dilf who… left the room to his study unlocked, and you stumble in whilst getting dressed. His laptop is sat open and you tentatively press the space bar, only for it to light up and go immediately to his desktop (he didn't set a password?).

What catches your eye is an email notification with your name in the subject. Your full name.

‘On the matter regarding L/n, F/n.’

Your hands shake as you click on it, settling at the edge of the plush seat. What you find is a resignation from a private investigator, citing that the requests had gotten too unethical to continue.

You find an email thread 79 emails long. It starts with an image of you and Claudia after having sex, your hair wild from where he ran his hands through it. You're smiling at something she said - you remember this day.

Then it's your name, your social security number, your address, your parents address, the addresses of the schools you attended. Your stomach drops as you scroll and watch as Charles - now you know that he's that Charles - curated an intricate portrait of your life. Of the bars you frequented.

Then it's pictures, so many pictures. The final request was to put cameras in various rooms of your house, including your shower, before the PI resigned.

You scramble through his desks, trying to find something. A pen, a phone, something.

You find a photo of yourself, taken candidly whilst you were on the beach. Its sticky and the paper is crinkled - it's a cum tribute. You gag, rolling your chair away from the desk only to bump into…

Yandere! Dilf who… wraps his arms around you, locking you in that chair.

“I never quite figured out how to set a password,” he sighs, his breath is minty. Your mouth is dry. “Though, I suppose I didn't expect company so soon.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you felt his teeth.

“You're Claudia's husband,” you remark, dryly.

“And you're her boyfriend. Very liberal of her to allow you to see other partners, probably the only liberal thing about her.”

He shrugs, and pulls away.

“ I should go home,” You say around the lump in your throat.

“Of course,” he purrs, sauntering away. “I did hope you'd stay for brunch, but I suppose your appetite has been ruined.”

He smiles, studying you. Alight with horror and sat in his seat wearing basically nothing.

“I'll see you around.”

You stumble out of the apartment, your clothes the wrong way around.

#bottom male reader #oc x male reader #x reader #male bottom reader #male reader #mdni #oc x reader #original character #x bottom male reader #x male reader #male oc x male reader #male oc x reader #x uke male reader #uke male reader #seme character #x reader smut #dom male character #top male character

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sleepdeprivedfrfr · 2 days ago

Text

im not in love

ex-situationship!bucky x reader

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: minor thunderbolts spoilers? tower fic, exsituationship/relationship!bucky?? reader is an old friend of Natasha and Yelena. mutual pining. bit of a toxic relationship (if you'll even call it that). smut, fingering, p in v. dacryphillia. a splash of angst. oneshot? not proofread. MDNI. NSFW!

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: After your final mission for Valentina ended in you helping the so called 'new avengers' defeat the Void, you've been spending your days in the Avengers tower with the rest of the crew.

𝐚/𝐧: this has been in the drafts since may and I needed to get it out desperately. now ik why I js stick to drabbles lmfao. I also used google translate for the Russian so please correct me if I am wrong!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k

"What is it?"

Yelena's voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you redirected your focus from the window that displayed an illuminating view of the city lights, back to the couch where Yelena and Bob were talking about having a group movie night.

"What?" Him. It's always him.

You noticed the slight raise in her brows before she spoke, "You've been staring at that window for the past ten minutes. Am I boring you or something?" Bob gulped and silently watched the conversation between you and Yelena unfold.

"I was?" God you've only been living in the tower for not even a month and you feel like you're already losing your fucking mind. I mean how could you not? Especially when you were constantly running into him in the kitchen, exchanging awkward glances, and blatantly avoiding each other after each awkward exchange.

Yelena let out an exasperated sigh before starting again, "You know you two should just talk to each other and stop making it awkward for the rest of us. Seriously, it's painful to see how desperate you two are for each other."

You scoffed and crossed your arms in front of you, " 'Lena I have no idea what you're talking about."

She glanced at Bob—who was already looking her way— and let out a hearty laugh. You sat with a blank expression, until Bob joined in and began to stifle a laugh as well. It was uncanny how similar she was to Alexi, you always thought about how absurd it was that they aren't actually related.

Yelena wiped fake tears from her eyes as her laughter died down, "Oh milaya (sweetheart) you are so funny. You know that everyone else sees it too, right? I mean you're both moping around the tower," the sarcasm somehow making her accent more prominent.

Your eyes widened and you tried your best to remain as composed as possible , "I am not moping."

"Oh you so are," She nudged bob who was sitting next to her with a no-so-secret smile on his face, "Bob isn't she moping?"

You cocked a brow at Bob while waiting for his reply. The sudden shift in attention to him suddenly made him nervous, you could see the shoulders stiffen and the hesitant look in his eyes before he began to answer. Bob looked at Yelena before beginning to slightly nod his head, "I think you might slightly be uhm, moping... just a little."

You stood up from the couch across Yelena and Bob and walked to the bar, "Wow. You guys are delusional."

Yelena watched as you began to pour water into a glass and take a sip, "So you're telling me that you think you've been acting completely normal while living with your ex-boyfriend for the past three weeks?"

"So what are we?" You gazed up into his deep blue eyes, never failing to notice the way they softened whenever they stared back into yours.

Bucky looked down at you, his right hand caressing your cheek as his lips hovered over yours, "What ever you want us to be. I'll be whatever you want me to be, as long as it means I get to be with you, love."

liar.

You choked on the water and wiped your mouth as the memory played back in your head, "He was never my boyfriend."

"Okay ex—whatever he was—he still has that look in his eyes whenever you pass by. Not to mention he is so unbelievably grumpy when you aren't around."

That made you look up from you glass, "Look? What look?"

Yelena groaned and threw her head back on the couch causing blonde strands to fall against her face, "When my sister said the relationship between you two was confusing, she wasn't lying."

You sighed and chugged the glass of water.

Yelena played with the over grown strands of blonde that covered her face and looked over to Bob, whose hair had also grown out quite a bit in the past few weeks. "You know I think it's time for me to get a trim, what about you Bob?"

"Uh, yeah I guess my hair has gotten pretty long." He said quietly while moving the brown strands out of his eyes.

You set your glass down and let out a breathy laugh, already knowing what Yelena was getting at. "If that's your way of asking me to give you two a haircut then the answer is yes."

Yelena smirked and nudged Bob before standing up to follow you into the bathroom.

"W-wait right now? It's almost one in the morning." Bob whispered.

You snorted and nodded as you all headed to the common room bathroom.

It was almost two in the morning and the three of you couldn't stop laughing as you played with Bob's hair and giving him wild hair cut ideas. You had already finished trimming Yelena's hair and you were almost finished with Bob's hair as you all giggled and joked around, until a harsh knock on the bathroom door brought the three of you to silence.

Bob looked up to you and Yelena from the chair you guys had placed in the bathroom, Yelena shrugged and walked over to the door as your ran your hands through Bob's hair and adjusting his new hair style.

The door creaked open revealing a grumpy looking Bucky in a black tank top and black sweatpants. His metal arm and biceps on full display. "What the hell are you guys doing at this hour—" Bucky cut himself off after looking past Yelena and locking eyes with you.

And your hands.

In Bob's hair.

A moment of silence went by. Bob gulped and Yelena turned to look at you then back to Bucky before she spoke, "Uhh can we help you?"

Bucky blinked and brought his attention back down to Yelena while he cleared his throat, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he did, "Just— uh, keep it down, it's late."

Yelena turned and looked at you with a smirk.

Oh no.

Oh god no.

You stared at Yelena, pleading for her to not do whatever the fuck she had planned.

"Actually— we were just finishing up in here, me and Bob had a haircut that was long overdue. You should get one too, I mean we do have the best hairstylist in here so."

Fuck you Yelena.

Bucky's expression shifted the slightest bit, most wouldn't be able to catch the way his eyes slightly widened, but you did. "That's... that's okay I just—"

"No really, me and Bob were just leaving." Yelena cut the tall and brooding man off and turned to face You and Bob shooting you a wink, "C'mon Bob!"

Bob shot you a remorseful look as he followed Yelena, "Thank you for the haircut!" He shouted his thank you followed by your name before him and Yelena disappeared in the darkness of the hallway.

Leaving you and Bucky.

Alone.

He stood in the doorway awkwardly and stared at the empty chair beside you before stepping into the bathroom.

"Still awake enough to give me a trim?" He shot you a small smile, the same charming smile that he always gave you when you used to cut his hair in this same bathroom years ago.

You stood there in a daze like an idiot before nodding your head and returning his smile.

Bucky walked the rest of the way over to you and sat in the chair, you felt his eyes staring holes into your back as you rinsed the comb and shears in the sink. You cleared your throat before breaking the unbearably awkward silence,

"Sorry if we woke you."

"Don't worry about it, couldn't sleep anyway."

You turned around to face him, a small pout on your lips that didn't go unnoticed by him. Nothing you did ever went unnoticed by him.

"Still having those nightmares?"

Bucky nodded slowly, watching your eyebrows furrow and a small frown form on your lips as he did.

"You still worrying about me doll?"

That earned him an eye roll from you, "In your dreams metal man."

He huffed out a laugh and carefully watched your reflection in the mirror while you sectioned off his thick hair.

It was quiet again, you focused on nothing but his overgrown mop head. Bucky noticed the way you refused to look in the mirror, not wanting to risk the chance of accidentally meeting his gaze.

"You and bob a thing?"

Of course that was the first thing he would ask. Nosy fuck.

"Does that bother you?"

"So you are?"

"No."

You sighed as his shoulders began to visibly relax after your response, you remained unfazed by his bombardment of questions into your personal life.

"All done."

Bucky watched you in the mirror as you hurriedly cleaned the hair off the floor. Your movements were urgent, like you couldn't breathe with his presence in the room.

"Wait."

Bucky didn't dare to touch you, yet he still reached out towards you before your hand twisted the doorknob, he couldn't waste an opportunity like this.

You faced him, an annoyed look on your face. He knew it was fake. All of it was. The shared glances that you pretended didn't faze you, the unbothered act you put on when you two were partnered up for a mission, or how you acted like his mere presence didn't make the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

He was closer now. Like he was scared of the space between you becoming too great, which frankly, was the least of his problems.

Your eyes met his, awaiting his response. What could he possibly have left to say?

"I— I'm sorry."

You laughed. Like a genuine laugh. The same laugh you always let out when you watched those ridiculous rom-coms. The kind of laugh Bucky would kill to hear again.

Not like this though. This wasn't the same.

"Is that all you have to say Congressman Barnes?" You turned around again to leave, but you were stopped by hand grabbing your wrist gently, like if he gripped you to hard, everything would shatter again.

"I—fuck—please just hear me out." You were against the door now, your eyes staring up into his.

"I know you a shitty apology is the last thing you want to hear, but I mean it. I know it won't fix shit but... it's worth a shot. I'm sorry for everything. For leaving. For wasting your time. For making you think I was ready for a relationship, but I am now. I swear. I get it if you want nothing to do with me, but please, just hear me out."

"Bucky—"

"I can't sleep at night without you next to me. I went to therapy for the nightmares, did all the stupid shit the lady told me. I got better, the nightmares went away for the most part, but now every time I close my eyes I see you."

His voice began to crack, you could see the hurt in his eyes.

"I see the tears in your eyes, the smile on your face, the way you kissed me like I could never do wrong. You knew I wouldn't come back, you knew how much of a coward I was, didn't you?"

Your eyes were glossed over now, before the tears spilled over you put cupped Bucky's face into your hand, your lips smashing onto his.

His hands found their way onto your hips, pushing you up against the door. Your hands slid up his tank top, your fingers running up and down his abdomen. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled you up to straddle his waist before setting you onto the kitchen sink, not daring to break the kiss.

You pulled at his tank top, signaling for him to take it off. Bucky groaned between kisses before he pulled away out of breath,

"Are you sure you—"

"Hurry up and fuck me James."

Bucky smiled at that and wasted no time taking off his shirt, his hands slid down to your little pj shorts you had on before he slid them off, leaving you in your underwear. He slid his right hand over your clothed clit that was soaking through the fabric.

His lips were latched back onto yours as he moved your panties aside, and gently rubbed your clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips as you kissed him hungrily. His fingers were covered in your slick as he broke from the kiss and moved down to where you sat on the sink.

He slid your panties off completely, discarding them to the side, you put your legs over his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair as his head dove in between your thighs. Two of his fingers pumped into your cunt as he sucked on the nub of your clit, the vibrations of his groans making you whimper and bit your lip.

"Fuck I missed you so much pretty girl. Still as sweet as ever." Bucky breathed out against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine.

His tongue worked eagerly at your clit, he licked up your juices as if he'd been starving for days.

"F—fuck, James 'm gonna—" You moaned out as your thighs tightened around his head. His hands gripped onto them, keeping them there.

He could actually die like this. Wouldn't even be mad.

"Go ahead baby, come all over my face."

Bucky ate you out through your climax, groaning each time you tugged onto his hair.

"Holy shit." He beamed up at you, his stubbled covered in your juices,

"You taste just as good as I remember."

You rolled your eyes playfully, as he stood up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. You pulled at his pants and he took them off with no hesitation, while his lips remained on yours. You palmed his length through his boxers, pre-cum seeping through the fabric.

Sliding his boxers off, Bucky pumped his length before pulling toward the edge of the sink. He teased the head of his cock down your slick folds, before slowly inserting himself into your cunt.

He let out a groan, followed by a mumbled string of words about how much he missed you.

"Oh my god, yer' s'fuckin tight."

You let out a soft cry, before wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you in close.

"J-james—ah— go s-slow please."

He wiped away the tears on your cheeks before kissing your forehead, "I will. Just tell me if you need me to stop, okay baby?"

You nodded and locked your legs around his hips while peppering his jaw with kisses. Bucky slowly thrusted up into you, his head thrown back in pleasure,

"Atta fuckin' girl. You take me s'fuckin well. Ain't that right pretty girl?"

You bit down on your swollen bottom lip, and nodded.

Bucky thrusted up into you, increasing his speed with each thrust, causing cries of pleasure to escape your lips while you to scratched at his back.

Bucky grabbed at your tits, squeezing them in his right hand before taking one into his mouth, rolling his tongue over your nipple.

The pace in his thrusts increased, never stopping nor slowing, his stamina was a high as ever. You let out a moan at the cold feeling of his metal fingers flicking your clit.

"J-james m'so close."

Bucky trailed kisses from your tits all the way to your neck, leaving marks and love bites along the way.

"I know baby, I know. Can feel ya'squeezin me—fuck!"

Buckys thrust were faster and rougher now as he sucked onto your neck,

"Cum on my cock pretty girl. Please. I need it. Need t'feel you." Bucky groaned out between thrusts.

Your nails scratched at his back as you both came to your climax. Out of breath, Bucky stared down at you with a boyish grin, leaning down he gave you a peck on the lips and carried you to the shower.

After a long hot shower that contained of sweet nothings from Bucky, as the two of you cleaned each others bodies, you walked out and wrapped yourself in a towel. Bucky following you.

You cleaned the steamy mirror and examined the marks that were scattered along your breast and neck, Bucky walked up behind you, towel criminally low on his waist.

"Missed seeing you like this." He wrapped his arms around your toweled body. "I missed you."

You turned around and smirked back at him,

"Good."

Bucky lifted a brow at you before snorting out a laugh, "What's that supposed to mean hm?"

You leaned up and gave him one last peck on the lips,

"It means you'll finally get to know how I felt."

Bucky shot you a confused look, before watching you slip out of his hold, and walking out of the steamy bathroom that now felt frigid.

Leaving him this time.

this is so out of my element LMAO. please lmk if you enjoyed y'all! yes this is based on the song ik its cliche leave me alone.

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jinchuls · 2 days ago

Text

All In

Dick Grayson x reader

He cancels, he reschedules, he cancels again. Not sure if this is the relationship you want to sign up for, you take up your roommates offer to set you up with her friend. It’s awkward, it’s quiet; it’s nothing like how it is with Dick. But, as you get cornered on your way home you’re left confiding in a man you never would have expected.

warnings - reader gets held at gunpoint, dramatic and pouty dickie, angsty-ish nothing like too bad just a lil self doubt but it does mean idk how to tag this teehee

wc - 2.3k

“Again?” Your roommate doesn’t even attempt to hide her annoyance as you walk out of your room, dressed up and clearly upset as your excitement for the evening gets stolen with a brief and, unfortunately, expected call. So expected no words are needed to even share the news. “What did he say this time?”

You frown before you answer her. At first, you’d been more than understanding, with a family emergency arising, his brothers needing his help, hurting himself and being bedridden for a few days, you’d taken each cancellation with only a small amount of disappointment. How were you, someone he had only seen a few times, to stop him from being that man that made you say yes to first date anyway?

But today, after four reschedules and a promise that he will be there, there was no reason just an, admittedly apologetic, whisper of I can’t. I just, a breath that forced you to hold yours, I can’t.

“Nothing.” You tell your roommate, sitting beside her at the table, “He didn’t even ask to do it another night. I should take that as a ‘he doesn’t want to see me’, right?”

“He’s an idiot.”

“No—”

“Don’t defend him.” She warns, pointing a finger in your face. “I know you like him; I know you had high hopes for this but I’m not watching you get attached to someone that’s going to hurt you more than he already has.” She glances at her phone, “You’ve still got the reservation right? I think I have the perfect person for you.”

What were you thinking? Your date, a date you’d been looking forward to for a while now, cancels and you’re subbing someone else in for that exact date? You watch the man opposite you, nervously playing with the napkin, his shirt collar up—despite the fact you’d quietly told him about it three times now—and a red stain on his tie where he’d spilled his wine on his first sip. Was this how you wanted to stop thinking about Dick?

He'd been so charming from the moment you’d met him. He’d made you laugh, he’d hold himself with confidence and grace and hold your hand to his side as he walked you around Gotham, refusing for the night to end because your company was so intoxicating the last thing he wanted was to be anywhere else. And then there’s this man, who let the door shut on you as the two of you walked into the restaurant and pronounced your surname so horribly wrong when talking to the hostess.

What were you thinking?

You split the bill at the end of dinner, his decision but you don’t complain; it felt right knowing you would never willingly see this man again.

“That was nice.” He comments as you leave. “We should—” His smile drops and his words disappear; a wide eyes expression of fear stealing every emotion from him.

“Don’t move.” You glance over his shoulder, your eyes meeting another set holding more crazy than you’d ever encountered. “Give me your watch.” Your date doesn’t move for a second, the conflicting instructions short circuiting his brain but his body flinches; it’s then you realise he’s got a weapon pointed to his back, one currently being forced against his skin harder and harder until he shakily unstraps his watch and drops it to the criminal’s open hand. “Your wallet.” He orders next; it’s handed to him with no hesitation this time.

The mugger pockets both stolen items, stepping away from your date and closer to you. He raises his weapon; your blood runs cold as you stare at the tip of his handgun; your breathing hitches in your throat. “Got anything nice in there?” He asks, pointing to your handbag with the gun you cannot take your eyes off. You instinctively take a step back; he follows you.

You don’t say a word as you dig through the contents of your bag. Your purse, your phone, a pair of earrings that had got uncomfortable during dinner that you’d subtly tucked in unnoticed. Grabbing all three in a fist, you’re about to hand it over when you look up and see, both surprised and not at all, your date halfway down the alley. Running away.

Open mouthed, clutching precious belongings and amazed someone so pathetic had made it so long in Gotham, you glance back to the burglar. He’s come closer during your distraction, “Hand. It. Over.” You feel the gun touch your forehead; he had no care for the man that escaped. “Now!” You squeak as you flinch, his voice and the feel of the cold metal bringing angry tears to your eyes yet all you can think is, today would be different if Dick was here.

Sniffling, you bring your shaking hands from your bag, holding your things as trying not to look at the face you’re afraid will be the last you’ll ever see.

He appears from the shadows, his body colliding with the gunman before either of you can register he’s even there and, hitting the wall with the bigger man’s weight forcing him against the brick with a loud crack. Your attacker crumbles to the floor, quiet groans coming from him as he cradles his evidently broken arm to his chest.

Nightwing turns to you and you’re not sure if you’re stuck in silence because of what just happened to you or if you’re just too starstruck to speak. Despite your years in Gotham, this is your first time encountering any of the well known heroes this close.

“Are you okay?” You drop your things back into your bag, tightly gripping the strap as you nod, a tear dropping from your eyes as they meet his. “Okay, no. You can be shaken up, that was scary.” He starts to reason; approaching you softly and ignoring the further groaning from his victim. “Are you alone?”

You take a deep breath in hopes of steadying yourself. “Well, my date ran away so—”

“Your date?” His tone is a little more aghast than you’re expecting.

“Yeah, he sucks I get it. But there’s a fifty-fifty chance of dating a psychopath when you live in Gotham so sometimes the coward is the safe option.” You wave a hand, wiping under you eye grateful nothing else has seemed to escape. Another deep breath and you feel a little more yourself already. “It’s funny though, gun to my head my first thought was that this wouldn’t happen with the other guy I’m seeing.” You force a laugh but the words don’t feel great to say.

“Another guy!” Pausing, you watch Nightwing for a moment, your fear and nerves being replaced with, definitely misplaced, anger when you see the look of disgust? Confusion? Hurt? On his face.

“Are you judging me right now?” You scoff, turning your back on the vigilante, “You know nothing about me but you’re judging me for going on a date?” Starting to walk away from him, you feel something burning in your throat desperate to be set free and you spin on your heels, jamming a finger into his chest and glaring up at him. “For your information, Nightwing, I’m only here because the guy I want to see, the guy I stupidly, really fucking like, obviously doesn’t want to see me again. And, in trying to not let myself get hung up on a man, I got held at gunpoint and judged by a guy in spandex.”

“Spandex! This is high quality—” He raises a hand to his ear, “Will you stop laughing!”

“Now, if everything is sorted here.” You glance at your attacker, still curled in pain on the floor, “I’m going home and never leaving it again.” Turning again, you do walk away from him this time. Your arms crossed across your chest, holding your jacket close to you as your adrenaline finally wears off and you feel the chilling cut of the night breeze.

“Wait!” You hear; you make no effort to stop. “Just wait a sec.” The sound of his feet hitting the ground follow you as he softly jogs to catch up with you—he likely didn’t even need to put too much effort in to do so. “Let me walk you home, at least.”

“I’m fine.”

“You had a gun in your face.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” You roll your eyes.

“Just to near your building then. It’d make me feel better.” He stands beside you as he searches your face for any type of reaction. You frown; he tenses.

“Fine.” You huff, starting to walk again not paying any attention to whether he follows you or not.

It’s silent for a while; you’ve made it at least halfway home and found yourself weirdly comfortable around the man. Until he decides to open his mouth again.

“So, this guy.” Nightwing clasps his hands behind his back as he walks, the brief silence clearly becoming too much for him. “How do you know he doesn’t want to see you?”

“What?” You turn to him, “That’s the conversation you have in you?” He just watches you as the two of you walk along; you sigh, deciding this might be your only opportunity for some unbiased help. “Well, we’ve only been on two dates, but I thought they were great. He was charming, funny, handsome; I really liked him, and I thought he liked me too,” You shiver slightly, pulling your jacket tighter around you. “Then he started cancelling the next date, and I tried to be nice about it but, the most recent time, it felt more like an ‘I don’t want to’. There are reasons and then there are excuses.”

“You don’t think he has reasons?”

“I just don’t think he’s looking for the same thing as me and doesn’t know how to let me know, y’know. I think I came on too strong from the beginning and ruined it before it even started.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Nightwing asks you softly, inching closer to you. You look to where your arms almost brush, but you don’t step away. “What if it’s not an excuse; what if it’s just something he can’t tell you yet?”

“So, I should stick around just in case he’s what, got a secret like yours?” His step stutters; he almost trips beside you. He clears his throat as he steadies himself and you can’t fight the laugh that slips from you.

“Would this,” He gestures to himself, masked face observing yours, “change anything?”

Thinking, you watch him for a second, turning back to the path ahead of you as you let you mind wander to Dick Grayson. “Yeah,” You admit, “I mean, I already want to stick around but if the reasoning for him being so cryptic and flaky was him saving Gotham I think I’d fall in love on the spot.” Nightwing falls silent beside you. “Well, thank you for being my soundboard, I feel a lot better about everything, surprisingly.”

“Good.” His voice is breathy and soft. “I should,” He clears his throat again. “Get back to—”

“Go vigilante, Vigilante.” Staring at you for another second, he smiles softly and turns to run back in the direction you had come; you hear the soft clang of metal on metal in the distance, and he whizzes upwards, back into the shadows. You smile, looking in his direction unable to find him, before you turn back to where you need to be, walking the few minutes left back to your apartment building.

Your roommate is asleep when you quietly lock the door behind you; you’ll update her on everything the next morning when you’ve had time to wrap your head around how, not only, Nightwing saving you but the strange, and weirdly helpful, talk he’d had with you that made you realise one thing for certain.

Dick Grayson is worth the wait.

The next morning, too early, you’re awoken to the sound of the doorbell. You know your friend is a much heavier sleeper than you and that, as the bell rings a second time whilst you’re throwing on something a little more presentable than your sheer pyjamas, whoever this is isn’t going to leave without an answer.

You wipe your tired eyes as you sleepily walk to the front door, drawing back the bolt and pulling the door open as far as the chain will let you. “Dick?” You’re not certain you’re seeing him right; you close the door again quickly, pulling the chain free and opening it wider to the man that had infiltrated your dream the night before.

“Hi,” He stand before you with a soft smile, a small bouquet of white lilies in one hand, a bag dangling from the wrist of his other and two take out cups of coffee, in a carrier, haphazardly rested on his palm. “Sorry, I know it’s early I just,” He looks away, rocking on his heels and clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not what you want or what you deserve, really, but I don’t want to lose out on something real. I can’t promise I won’t have to cancel again but I can promise I’m serious about this, about you, and I’m all in if you are.”

“I went on a date last night.” You blink at him immediately feeling the guilt of it being known hit your chest. Dick swallows softly. “It was terrible,” You offer a laugh to help the tone of conversation, “I decided that I was delusional and what I saw in you was just false hope but I had a little heart to heart too, with Nightwing, of all people.” Reaching in front of you, you take the bouquet off of him, smelling the flowers gently as you bring them close to you. You step aside and beckon him in with a nod of your head. “I’ll tell you about it as long as there’s pancakes in that bag.”

“And chocolate chips.”

#he tells you who he is four months later and is still upset about the spandex comment #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dc x reader

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delilahsturniolo · 1 day ago

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˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡ the only present matt and chris want for their birthday is you . . .

⤷ smut, threesome, (NO INCEST) dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral, (fem!recieving) blowjob, clit play, boob play, use of pet names.

it’s night time now. the house is quiet. the cake’s untouched. the gifts are stacked in the corner, forgotten. because you’re in their room, flat on your back, legs spread, already aching and dripping with anticipation. matt’s sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless, cock hard and resting against his stomach as he runs a thumb over your inner thigh.

chris is at the headboard, fingers tangled in your hair, watching you with that look again, like he’s about to ruin you for good. “happy birthday to us,” matt murmurs, leaning down to kiss up your stomach. “think it’s time we opened our present.” you shiver. “you ready, baby?” chris says, voice low, thick with want. “gonna let us both fuck you tonight?” you nod, breathless. “yes.” matt kisses between your legs, slow and lazy, then looks up at you with his tongue still on your clit. “nah. say it better.” you swallow hard, heart racing. “i want you both to fuck me.”

“there we go,” chris says, already tugging his sweats down. “our good fuckin’ girl.” you don’t know where to look. they’re both hard, both flushed and needy and big enough to make your thighs clench around nothing. matt moves first, slipping between your legs, licking a stripe up your soaked pussy that makes your hips buck. he groans. “fuck, she’s already soaked.”

“yeah?” chris smirks. “get her ready. i want her mouth first.” you whimper as matt dips his tongue inside you, slow and deep, then pulls back and spreads you open with his thumbs. he spits directly on your clit and then licks it up like it’s nothing. “such a mess,” he murmurs. “bet you taste like birthday cake.”

you’re already shaking, hips twitching as matt eats you out like it’s his last meal. chris climbs behind your head and strokes his cock lazily, watching your lips part as your moans grow louder. “open,” he commands. you do, and he slides in, slow at first, groaning the second your tongue meets the underside of his cock. “god, you’re good at that,” he mutters, hand tightening in your hair. “taking it so well. fuck.” you’re getting it from both sides, matt’s tongue ruthless on your clit, two fingers fucking into you fast and precise, while chris starts thrusting into your throat, his voice turning ragged.

“look at her,” matt pants, pulling back just enough to stare down at your soaked cunt. “dripping down her thighs. she needs it.” chris is already close, hips stuttering. “get in her,” he grits out. “want us to finish inside her together.” matt doesn’t waste time. he crawls over you, kissing you hard, making you taste yourself on his lips as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance. “beg for it.”

“please,” you gasp. “i want you so bad, i want both of you to use me—please.” his eyes darken. he slides in slow, inch by inch, thick and deep and so full it knocks the breath out of you. you cry out, nails digging into his back as he bottoms out, grinding into you with a groan. “that’s it,” he hisses. “fuckin’ perfect.” chris moves down the bed, straddling behind you now, rubbing your tits, kissing your neck. “she’s never this loud for one of us.”

“’cause she knows this is what she was made for,” matt snaps, already thrusting into you harder. “being fucked by both of us. our perfect little birthday gift.” you’re completely wrecked, panting, sweating, crying out with every thrust. chris slides a hand between your legs to rub your clit again while matt fucks you deep and steady, groaning your name like a prayer. “you close, baby?” chris whispers in your ear. “you wanna cum with us?” you nod, voice gone, body burning. “you’re gonna take our cum like a good girl,” matt growls. “gonna let us finish inside you. fill you up. fuck you so deep it leaks out of you all night.”

you sob, nodding frantically. “yes—yes, please—” matt fucks into you harder, his rhythm frantic now, and chris leans forward to kiss you as your body finally tips over the edge. you cum with a scream, thighs shaking, pussy clenching so hard around matt he curses under his breath and pulls out just in time to cum across your stomach, thick ropes painting your skin. chris strokes himself fast next to you, watching you fall apart, and finishes seconds later, spilling across your tits with a moan. you collapse onto the mattress, boneless and messy, dripping with both of them. no one speaks for a moment. then chris leans in, licking a drop of his own cum off your stomach with a smirk, matt slowly smiles. “best birthday ever.”

💌: no taglists for now since i’m on vacay and i’m busy but i have oneee more bday fic tomorrow!!! i may be a little inactive and i’m sorry about that </3

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bronzeverstappen · 1 day ago

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Loathing - Lucy Bronze x reader - Part One

Lucy Bronze x reader

Word count: 8K (She's long I'm sorry <3)

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fluff (eventually), smut 18+ (eventually), angst, talk of parents dying, swearing.

Summary: England’s star girl and England’s best defender hated one another. A single threat to “bash her head in” after a poor challenge from the defender was all it took to hate her more than anyone else in the world. Your paths had crossed for years, and it didn’t help that the Euros was just around the corner. Everyone’s starting to get sick of you two bickering, so for the whole tournament, both you and Lucy were forced to share a hotel room. Who knows, maybe you will finally deliver on your threat, or will you regret it?

—

One stupid challenge was all it took to hate Lucy Bronze; you hated her more than anyone else in the world. Indeed, the two of you had a small rivalry before the infamous incident occurred. She was one of the greatest defenders in football, and you were hailed as the second coming of Thierry Henry and the Stargirl of every club you played for. Naturally, you both fought constantly on the pitch, but the day Arsenal played Chelsea in the WSL changed your views on one another permanently.

Being an Arsenal player meant facing Chelsea a fair few times in a season, one you’d look forward to when you knew Bronze was set to play. Arsenal were fighting hard to climb the table, but so were Chelsea. At the 87th minute, the game was set at 2-2. A stunning cross from Kelly saw you sprinting to the Chelsea goal when Bronze made a risky tackle, sending you to the floor screaming in pain. You both collided so hard that her studs ripped into the back of your right leg. The blood soaked through your socks as the medical team carried you off. The cut was so deep you needed stitches, and all Bronze received was a yellow.

A yellow for ruining Arsenal’s chance of winning and for fucking up your leg. As you headed down the tunnel, you ranted to the medical staff, claiming you were planning on “Smashing Bronze’s head in for what she done.” A fan caught the whole conversation on camera, and Twitter had a field day.

Chelsea went on to win. A surprising assist from Bronze led them to the three points, which only added to your anger. The TV in the hospital showed Bronze, the winning player of the match, with a gleaming smile on her face, while your eyes welled up with tears due to the pain. Later that day, she posted a photo of herself on Instagram, her face glowing with pride, with the caption “Smashing heads in”. You didn’t care if she played alongside you for your country, or the fact that you’d won so many duels against her in the past. You hated her, and nothing would change that.

—

The Euros were just days away, and you and the rest of the team all sat in the reception of your hotel in Zurich awaiting Sarina Wiegman to assign rooms. This wasn’t abnormal for Wiegman. She always wanted you all to be in rooms with those with whom you were close and played well with. She believed it drew her team together on and off the pitch. With this being the case, you knew you’d end up alongside your Arsenal teammates, so you thought.

“Has everyone been watching Love Island?” Alessia asked, a small smile on her face, knowing what she had planned. “Because we will all be watching it in the cinema room every night!”

“You wouldn’t let us not watch it after you told us your brother was on it.” You replied, mirroring her smile.

“Tournament comes first.” Leah chimed in, a smirk on her lips, a small indication that although she was somewhat joking, she was also deadly serious. Whilst the rest of the girls engaged in conversation, your eyes glanced around for Lucy. She was sitting as far away from you as possible, talking to Jess.

The Chelsea game wasn’t the start of your disgust for one another. At the World Cup, you two were at one another's throats. After Lauren had made the awful decision to step on another player, you snapped at the forward, but Lucy defended her.

“How can you defend that?” You spat at the brunette. “She just walked over someone-”

“She’s young-”

“And?” You stepped closer to Lucy. “That makes it okay, does it?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, her deep breath hitting your face as frustration grew. “No, but she’s learning still. We have no hope if we constantly argue.”

“I’m holding her accountable.” You stepped closer, your faces nearly touching. You could feel the tension between you both as you spoke again. “That’s what you should be doing, Captain.” You shoved her slightly as you walked past her, still pissed off at not only Lauren, but Lucy too.

The memories of the World Cup were cut short when Lucy snapped her head towards your gaze, your eyes meeting but darting away quickly. She’d seen you staring, and she knew you hadn’t just glanced over, but neither of you had time to react as a familiar voice filled the room.

“Good evening, girls and welcome to Zurich. As you all know, we face France in a few days, and I need you all to be well-rested and focused for the games ahead.” Wiegman smiled at you all as her words filled the room. “I have all assigned your rooms, which I will now reveal.” A small cheer sounded from a few of the girls, followed by laughter that postponed your manager's words. “Keepers, you are all in a room together, Beth and Ella, you two are together, Alessia and Leah…” Sarina’s words trailed off when your phone, lightly buzzing, caught your attention.

Lucy: Caught you staring earlier, what were you thinking? About smashing my head in?

Your eyes darted over to the defender, but her attention was glued to your manager.

You: More like smashing your ankles in.

Lucy: Classy y/l/n, what were you really thinking about?

You: And you care, why?

Lucy: I don’t.

You: Then why ask?

Lucy: Curiosity.

You: Killed the cat.

Lucy: Luckily, I’m not a cat.

You locked your phone, glancing over to Lucy again to see her looking at you.

“And y/n and Lucy, you two will be sharing this tournament.” Your manager's words made you both snap away from one another, your eyes widening in disbelief.

“What?” You raised your voice first. “I thought you said you wanted us to be in a good state of mind for this tournament. We’re reigning champions of Europe, and you expect me to be in that state sharing with her?” You pointed at Lucy, your eyes flicking over to her before focusing on Sarina.

“She might smash my head in!” Lucy called out.

“And she might slice my leg open again!”

“It was a small cut-”

“A small cut?” Your head jumped in her direction. “I was out for weeks! You’ve left a massive scar on my leg-”

“And you threatened me! That’s what you do when something doesn’t go your way, isn’t it y/l/n? Play like shit and then blame everyone else!”

“I play like shit?” Your face dropped in disbelief at her words. “Remember when you lost us the-”

“Enough!” Sarina’s voice ripped through the room, her eyes narrowing as she looked at you both. “You two will share a room in this tournament. You two are divided, and I need you both to work things out. Your room number is 111, go now and you will join us all in the morning for training.” She handed you both a key to the room.

Gathering your things, you stormed through the hotel, taking the lift and shutting the doors before Lucy could reach them, giving you even the smallest moment of peace before you shared a room with the woman you hated.

The room was gorgeous. Two double beds are situated in the middle of the room, with a large Television opposite, positioned between the two beds. There was only one bathroom, which contained a large shower with a separate bath next to it. The last thing that caught your eye was the large balcony that looked over the training grounds. You dumped your bags on the bed nearest the balcony and pulled out your phone to text one of your closest friends in football, the one and only Kylian Mbappe.

Before Arsenal was PSG and during your time there, the men's and women’s team mixed their training, and that’s when the two of you met, properly anyway. The pair of you had both played for Arsenal's academy when you were young, your parents were good friends but the two of you were both too young to really remember a lot. He understood what it was like to have the pressure from every single fan, manager and media outlet on your back, and it only got worse after your parents' death.

The pressure of being a player who stood out from the crowd was something he knew all too well. The two of you would have small training sessions in the evening, a time when you could both focus on your careers without the pressure of the world weighing in. He helped you get your name out to the world. Suddenly, men who only wanted to watch men’s football were flocking to women’s games after seeing their idols supporting the women.

You: I’m in Zurich, I arrived safely.

Kylian: About time I heard from you, how is everything?

You: Shit.

Kylian: Why? You love playing for England?

You: They’ve assigned me to a room with Lucy.

Kylian: You mean THE Lucy Bronze? Why would they do that when they know you two hate each other?

You: Because they want us to fix our issues with one another. That woman physically hurt me, set me out for weeks. I’m not fixing anything with her.

Kylian: I understand it’s hard, but you could try being civil with her. I’m not saying be best friends or anything, but maybe just act like that on the pitch. You want to win, right?

You: Of course I do, but I hated her at the last Euros.

Kylian: Not as much as you did at the World Cup. I’ll check in on you every day.

You: You’re still coming to the games, right? Both you and Martha are right?

You referenced your best friend Martha, someone Kylian could never stop looking at when the pair of them were together.

Kylian: Of course. She’s meeting me at the airport tomorrow.

You: I can’t wait to see you both.

Kylian: Me either, and we can plan some extra training sessions. Will Sarina mind?

You: She’s not said no yet.

Kylian: Be nice to Bronze and we’ll be fine.

You: We’ll see.

Kylian: Don’t smash her head in.

You: Don’t try and smash my best friend on the plane.

Kylian: It’s not like that. I don’t see her like that. She’s a lovely girl, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t see her like that.

You: Liar. See you tomorrow.

The door to your hotel room clicked open, signalling that Lucy had finally made it up the hotel stairs. “Enjoy your walk?” You called out to her, glancing at her as she dumped her bags on the bed beside yours. She huffed at your words before replying.

“I see you’ve chosen a bed.”

“Closer to the balcony, that way if you do my head in enough, I can jump out of it.”

“I’m not that bad.” Her gaze was fixed on you. Propping yourself up on the bed, you looked at her, an unimpressed look spreading across your face.

“My leg begs to differ.” You lifted your right leg slightly.

“I never asked,” she moved herself to the edge of her bed, her eyes flicking between your own and your right leg. “How many stitches did you need?”

“Four.” You threw your trainers off and pulled your joggers up past your calves. Your hand pointed to the scar forever on your skin, not that you needed to; the scar was so prominent it looked as if the injury had happened a mere few days ago.

A flicker of guilt shot across Lucy’s eyes, but it faded as fast as it appeared. “I did say it was an accident-“

“So I’ve heard.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s asked in almost every interview you do regarding me or Arsenal.”

A wide, cocky grin coated Lucy’s lips. “So you watch the interviews I do?”

“Kylian sent me one.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “Your famous friend.”

“My good friend.” You corrected her. “I’ve known him for years.”

There was always speculation around you and him. For years, fans thought you two were dating. You received comments like “Imagine if they have kids, football clubs would pay millions.” “Wonder if that’s her plan to be paid more?” And “definitely slept her way to that PSG spot.” When you signed for PSG, it made you one of the mist talked about players in the game. A title great for your ego and bank account but not for trolls on the internet.

It didn’t help that photos of you and him circulated on social media after a team night out. You were both pictured with Kylian's arm around your shoulders and him leaning close towards you. The truth behind that photo was simple. He was drunk, you helped him get home, and he was telling you how badly he was craving McDonald’s. That’s it. But of course, the world thought the stars of PSG were sleeping together.

“Poor bloke.” She smirked at you before her face turned serious after seeing the look on your face after her comment. “Look y/n, I don’t like this and neither do you, but it’s just a place for us to sleep. We’ll be with the team for most of the time; this is just a place to sleep.”

You nodded at her words. “Just don’t snore-“

“Or you’ll smash my head in?” She grinned whilst she rummaged through her bags.

“Right, a friendly reminder, you had just split my leg open. I was angry, and I have never delivered on my threat.”

“You were angry? Is that a small apology there?” Her grin grew.

“No, it’s an explanation for my actions.”

“You’ve been with me for five minutes and you’re already apologising to me?” Her teasing tone only pissed you off even more.

“No-“

“Sarina is going to be so proud of us -“

“That’s not what I meant!” You stood up, watching her grab her towel and wash bag from her case.

“I’ll be sure to pass it on, as your captain, that you’re already coming around to this idea.” Lucy opened the bathroom door.

“Deputy Captain!” You called out after her as she slammed the bathroom door shut, the sound of the shower blocking your voice out.

It was going to be a long tournament, longer if England kept winning.

—

England had lost their first game in the competition. A dominant France saw you walking off the pitch with a 2-1 loss. You’d scored within the first five minutes, but VAR had ruled you offside. From then on, you were off the mark, not playing as well as you should have, and you knew that the media would be talking about it.

You didn’t dare give an interview, but thankfully, they only wanted to talk to Walsh and Leah. After your bolocking from Sarina, everyone headed back onto the bus and to the hotel. You were shattered, to say the least. You’d played the whole game, and knowing that something wasn’t right only made you more exhausted.

Dumping your rucksack on the floor by your bed, you quickly gathered up a shirt to sleep in, not caring that Lucy was entering the room right behind you.

“Didn’t fancy a goal tonight?” The familiar voice belonging to the woman you hated most of all filled your ears.

Lucy placed her bag down on her bed, but her eyes were focused in front of her, staring straight at you. She watched as you turned yourself around, your back facing her as you peeled your sports bra off your skin and placed an oversized shirt over your body. She wanted to be cocky, but the way your muscles glistened in the light and your effortless movement made her mind wander.

“Didn’t fancy taking down any strikers to prevent a goal tonight?” Your words snapped her back into reality.

“Did you not see that run I made in the lead-up to the second goal?”

“Wasn’t fast enough.” You huffed as you pulled back the duvet, settling yourself into bed. You grabbed the television remote that sat on the bedside table separating your and Lucy’s beds. “It’s only the first game-”

“And now we need to win the next two if we have any hope of getting further!”

“The French aren’t easy to beat.”

“You’d know.” The brunette remarked as she changed into something comfortable to sleep in.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Your face flew to meet her own.

Lucy shrugged her shoulders as she climbed into bed, putting her glasses on before grabbing a book. “You have your special friend you’re close with.”

“It’s not like that, and you know it.” You sat up in bed, flicking through the TV in an attempt to find something to watch. “He and I have never had anything happen between us, and if you must know, he really fancies my best friend Martha, not that he’ll admit it. In that photo, he was drunk, and I’m not leaving my friend alone when he’s drunk.” Without another word, you pressed play on a film, settling yourself back into bed as it started to play.

“Have you seriously put on Twilight?” Lucy arched her brows, changing the conversation entirely and now dismissing the book in front of her.

“Do you have an issue with Twilight?”

She shrugged, her eyes still glued to the screen. “No, it’s just an odd choice.”

“How is it?” You counteracted. “It’s dark outside, the weather is turning slightly, and it’s started to get colder. It’s perfect Twilight weather.”

“If you say so, y/l/n, just keep it down, yeah?”

You didn’t answer her, just spared the odd glance her way here and there. Lucy turned her attention back to her book, the small light beside her bed illuminating her face. You noticed how her eyes darted towards the TV, then back to the book. It was evident the film was catching her attention more than the words in front of her.

“I’d be team Alice.” Lucy’s attempt at reading her book had failed; her eyes were now glued to the television screen. “She seems to be the only one with a brain.”

“Just you wait until we watch the next films.”

“Not going to happen.” Bronze replied, her eyes looking at you. “Alessia will kill us if we miss any of her Love Island watch parties.”

You shrugged, only glancing over at her for a split second. “Can we watch them after?”

“If I’m still awake.” Bronze yawned, setting her book aside, she sank into the pillows behind her whilst she gave the film her full attention. “We have a lot to make up for after tonight.”

“We’ll get there.” You followed suit with her actions. “As I said, the French aren’t an easy team to face. We’ll get back to it.”

“Never thought I’d hope the y/n y/l/n was right about something.”

“Times change, Bronze.”

—

The training sessions were gruelling. It was non-stop after the loss against France, and for you, it only got worse when Kylian turned up. Sarina dismissed everyone for the day, but your training session was only getting started. You let out a huff as Kylian walked onto the pitch, saying a few hellos to the other girls as he made his way over to you. Pulling you into a hug he spoke. “It’s nice to see you.” He pulled away. “Especially after a blinding loss against France.” His grin widened as he watched you roll your eyes.

“We’re still in this tournament.” You grabbed your water and took a sip. “It was just one game.”

“One game can change everything.” He grabbed a ball and placed it on the penalty spot before moving into the goal. “And penalties can change everything, hence why we’re practising them today.” As he stood in the goal, his eyes darted to the gate. “And you’ve got an audience.”

Your eyes followed his, and there you saw Lucy leaning against the railing, but she wasn't alone. Lauren and Michelle were standing alongside her. Michelle looked more excited than a child at Disneyland. James was focused on Kylian’s teaching style, and Lucy was staring straight at you, her eyes never leaving you, no matter how much you tried to ignore her.

“Brilliant.” You muttered to yourself as you stepped up to the penalty spot.

“How has it been with her?” He asked.

“I try to spend as little time as possible alone with her.” You threw your bottle down. “We’ve both agreed it’s just a place to sleep.”

Kylian nodded. “At least that’s a positive. Any arguments yet?”

“A small one after the France game…” You thought back to that night, and a small smile spread on your lips, knowing you two had ended up just watching Twilight together. “Then we watched Twilight together.”

“Christ, the poor woman.” Kylian laughed. "Never thought I’d defend her.” But his sympathy didn’t last long when the loud laughter from Lucy caught both of your attention.

“Ignore them.” Kylian looked over to Lucy. “Especially Bronze.” You took your chance and did a quick run up and kicked the ball into the top left corner, sending the ball flying into the back of the net. He whipped his head around to face you. “That doesn’t count!”

“Yes, it does!” You smiled at the man as you grabbed another ball. “If that were during a game, you wouldn’t be able to tell the ref that the goal doesn’t count because you were distracted by another player.”

He huffed, clearing the last ball you kicked before he yelled. “Again!”

You kicked the ball into the bottom right corner, another goal.

“Again!” Kylian yelled again, and the penalties didn’t stop.

Forty penalties later, you’d scored thirty-four out of forty. Lucy was still on the side-lines watching. A few times, you glanced over to see her reaction, and you were shocked to see that she looked impressed at a few penalties you scored. After the penalties, Kylian made you do dribbling drills. The goal was to get past him as many times as you possibly could, all with the eyes of Lucy Bronze watching you.

Your heart was racing at the end of the drills, and thankfully, Kylian called it a day with you. Falling to the floor, you held onto your water bottle for dear life before pouring the contents onto your face in an attempt to cool yourself down.

Lucy watched as the water ran down your shirt, making the material stick to your skin, your breasts prominent as you rose from your spot on the ground. Lucy may have hated you, but she couldn’t deny how attractive she found you, and you felt the same. You hated her, sure, but she wasn’t hard to look at, and for you, it was such a shame someone who looked so good could be such a prick.

“Thank you for today.” Getting off your feet, you and Kylian embraced. “Will you be at the game in a few days?”

“Of course I will, so will Martha.” He smiled. “And hopefully your goal actually counts this time, you know the offside rule, right?” He smiled as he finished his sentence.

“It was tight!” You defended yourself.

“If you score, do one of my celebrations-”

“Absolutely not.” You smirked at him, gathering your things. “Only if I score a penalty, so you best hope Kelly isn’t on the pitch.”

“Least I know she’ll get it in.” His words caused you to shove him back into the goal he was once standing in.

“See you in two days, Kylian.” You called back out to him.

At this point, Lauren and Michelle had made their way back onto the training pitch to train themselves, which only left Lucy at the railing as you approached the exit. “Enjoy the show Bronze?”

She let out a huff before she spoke. “It was nice to see you score for once.”

“Should watch the Champions League highlights.” A smirk danced across your lips as you thought back to the day you scored the winning goal that took your team to glory.

As you walked past Lucy she turned on her heels to follow you but you watched her face scrunch in pain. “Are you okay?” You stopped in your tracks, your brows furrowing as you watched her attempt to play it off.

“I’m fine.” Her tone was sharp.

“You’re clearly not.” You gestured to her leg. “You’re in pain-“

“I’m fine y/n!” Her voice was raised enough that it caught the attention of your teammates and Kylian who was now getting ready to leave. Bronze huffed, her hand running through her hair before she spoke again. “I’m fine.” She spoke in a softer tone, her eyes meeting yours. “I just got a cramp, I’m fine.” Her words were lies and you knew it but you decided not to press, not now in front of everyone.

“Okay, okay…” You held your hands up in defence. “I’ll see you in the room later then.” You gave her a half smile to which she replied with a nod before you turned your back on her and walked back to your hotel. You knew something wasn’t right with her but whether or not she’d let you in was another story. Maybe after she settled down over Twilight.

---

Everyone was gathered in the cinema room to watch the new episode of love island. You were sat alongside the Arsenal girls whilst Lucy sat a few spaces away from you. You couldn’t help but spare a few glances towards her. Your mind wondered to your short conversation earlier. It was unlike Lucy to show even an ounce of pain. She wasn’t like that, everyone has always stood by the fact that the only way she would come off the pitch was if she was in a wheelchair and after playing with her for most of your career, you believed it.

“God what an arsehole!” Leah yelled out, pointing to one of the guys on the screen. “He’s just necked on with another woman, love, he doesn’t care about you!” She and the rest of the girls began to complain about the men’s behaviour on the TV show.

“He’s stringing her along to try and win it!” Ella yelled in agreement.

“He’ll definitely cheat on her on the outside!” Hannah added. A smile crept into your face hearing all the girls complain about all the men on this year’s love island, thank god you liked women.

Despite all the conversations happening around you, your mind was still on Lucy and her mystery injury.

You: How’s your cramp?

Lucy: Gone now thank you.

You: Are we going to talk about it?

Lucy: About a cramp?

You: About you lying to me.

Lucy: And when did I lie to you?

You: I know you didn’t have a cramp. I’ve seen you with a cramp mid game. You don’t even bat an eyelid.

Lucy: It was a bad one this time.

You: Liar.

Lucy: You’re not going to let this go are you?

You: Nope.

There was a pause between your last message and her reply.

Lucy: Come to the room straight after love island is finished. Say you need an early night, I’ll do the same.

You: Then you’ll tell me?

Lucy: Follow my instructions and yes I will.

You: Deal.

Lucy: Good to know you can listen. Maybe you’ll listen to me on the pitch now.

You knew exactly the moment she was referring to. Four years ago you took on Spain in Brighton during the Euros. The score was 1-1 and England were granted a free kick. Lucy told you to quickly take it and short pass to one of the girls. The plan was quick movements and reactions to get a goal Spain wouldn’t expect but you ignored her words. You fired the ball towards the net and sent the ball into the top left corner, curling it with such power the keeper couldn’t even get a finger to it.

You: If it wasn’t for my free kick we would have lost that game. Even you can admit that goal was good.

Lucy: I can admit, you looked like Thierry Henry in his prime.

You: Is that a compliment from you?

Lucy: Don’t get used to it y/l/n and if I were you, I’d focus on love island before Alessia throws your phone across the room.

You locked your phone before meeting the gaze of your teammate who looked as if she was about to ban all phones from the love island showing like it was an actual cinema. You mouthed a sorry and awkwardly looked away before she leaned towards you.

“Distracted?” Her scowl turned to a smirk.

“Of course not.” You shot her a half smile. “Maybe a little bored of all these shitty men on the tv.” Your smile grew as did hers.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Her eyes looked over to Lucy who now had realised Alessia had caught her staring and quickly darted her head to focus on the screen ahead of her. “Finally getting friendly?”

“Hardly.” You huffed. “I’m here to play in the tournament and not be best mates with Bronze.”

“Sarina would disagree.”

“Would she rather us win the tournament or be best friends with the woman who put me on the bench for months?”

“I think she thinks you can do both.”

“I don’t see it happening.” That was a lie well, partly. You could see yourself being civil enough with Bronze that you two could share a room and watch a film without ripping one another’s heads off but being friends? Nope. Maybe one day, but not this tournament.

The familiar sound of the love island credits filled the room. You looked over to Lucy who was already standing, her eyes meeting yours before she gave you a small nod, a small clarification that she was still happy to tell you about what was happening with her.

“I’m going up.” You smiled at Alessia. “I’m shattered after training-“

“We were going to put on Wicked,” She rose from her spot on the beanbag. “Will that convince you to stay up?”

You wanted to. The idea of singing your heart out with some of your best friends was something you needed right now, especially when that day was fast approaching but in that moment, Lucy’s trust was more important to you. You might not see her as a friend or even a future one but if she was willing to talk to you about something, you’d listen.

“Blame Kylian, I haven’t had an extra training session for a while so it’s taken it out of me today.” You offered her a sympathetic smile as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“I better see you score a hat-trick against the Netherlands then!” The blonde laughed as she pulled away from the hug.

“I’ll dedicate the last goal to you, one for Mum, one for Dad and one for Alessia Russo.”

“I’m holding you to that!” Her smile beamed.

Shaking your head you left with a smile. “Goodnight girls! Enjoy the film!” You called back before making your way back to the room you and Lucy shared.

—-

Your room was dark, almost as if Lucy was still downstairs and had second thoughts about your talk. “Lucy?” You called out to her.

“In the bathroom, come in, I’m just running a bath!”

“We’re having our talk in here?” You arching your brows you pushed the door open to see her slicing a bag of ice open. “And you’re having an ice bath? At 10:30pm?”

“I didn’t realise there was a curfew on ice baths?” Her sarcasm made your eyes roll. Lucy dumped the last bag into the bath before lowering herself into the water, her breath fast as she slowly got used to the temperature.

“Sorry did you need me to leave or?”

“You wanted to know, didn't you?” And I'm wearing clothes so do you really need to leave?"

“So we’re having our talk during your ice bath?”

“Would you rather get in with me so we’re both having an ice bath?” A cocky grin formed on her lips.

“Absolutely not.” You sat yourself down on the toilet lid, leaning back on it as you watched her chest rise up and down. “I can never get warm after an ice bath. I only have them if they’re necessary for my performance or recovery.”

“You pussy.” She laughed at your words. “The star girl of her club and country is afraid of an ice bath?”

“I’m not scared of ice baths, I just don’t like them. If I was to get in there with you right now I wouldn’t be able to stop shaking all night.”

“I’ll give you my hoodie.”

“Thank you Bronze but I was grateful enough to get my own.” You mirrored her cocky grin before your tone turned serious. “So what’s wrong with you?”

Lucy stayed silent for a second, almost like she’d wished she’d stayed silent about all of this or never showed an inch of pain when you saw her earlier but despite those thoughts and the look of worry, she replied. “You need to promise me this stays between us, just you and I. No media, no friends, no teammates, no nothing… please.”

A flash of vulnerability coated her eyes, something you’d never seen from her before. To you, she was as hard as nails and the only time you’d ever seen her cry was the World Cup final when you lost to Spain. Lucy blamed herself for everything and although you two were not close in any way, you hugged her.

It was only brief and to those who didn’t care for football would have thought nothing of it but it was the first time you’d ever hugged her. You remember her arms wrapping around you for dear life, like she never wanted you to pull away because the world would get to her. You whispered three words in her ear, three words she longed to ask you about.

“You were perfect.”

Lucy didn’t know if you were being sarcastic in your words, wondering if you were mocking her for her performance but the way you hugged her told her head you didn’t mean it in a malicious tone but more a comforting one. She never forgot those words and she longed to know what you meant when you said that.

“I promise.” You held out your pinky towards her. She frowned but looked amused at your gesture.

“A pinky promise?” Her brows arched.

“I’ve never broken one before and I promise I won’t start now.” A proud look on your face grew when the brunette lifted her hand from the water and locked her pinky with yours. You let it sit for a few seconds before jerking your hand away. “Jesus Lucy you’re freezing.” Quickly grabbing the nearby towel you dried your hand which left Lucy in laughter.

“Sorry y/n am I going to leave you shaking all night?” Narrowing your gaze at her innuendo you replied.

“Not yet Bronze.”

“So there’s a chance?”

“Just continue with what you need to say!” Huffing you awaited her reply.

She took another deep breath before she replied. “I have a fractured tibia, it's not the worst fracture it’s just-“

“You shouldn’t be playing!” Your voice cut her off. “Lucy that’s serious how are you even walking-“

“Like I said it’s not serious-“

“I think it fucking is serious it’s a fucking fracture Lucy you should be at home resting it!”

“I’m not giving up this tournament for it, I’m fine. I can walk, can't I?”

“For now.”

“I will be fine. You need to trust me.”

“And I do but you need to put your health first. The whole country isn’t going to hate you because you’re injured.”

“But I need to prove myself from the World Cup. I messed up and I need to wipe that slate clean. I need to fix my mistake-“

“And you’ll have the chance when your leg is healed. You don’t need to fix anything because we win as a team and we lose as one. It was no one’s fault-“

“I should have been better and this time I can prove I am good enough and I can win another tournament.”

“You’re so stubborn.” You leaned back against the toilet. “You’re not going to let anyone convince you to rest, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Who else knows?” Your curiosity got the better of you.

“The medical staff, Sarina, my family and a couple of the girls.” Her eyes searched yours for something she didn’t quite know. A long silence filled the bathroom, the only sound was Lucy’s deep breaths as she let go of the secret and tried to stop her body from getting too cold. “Say something y/n…”

“Your secret is safe with me Bronze, just please listen to your body and if you need to slow down, do so. Don’t put your health on the line for a trophy. As much as I hate to admit it, we need you on this team but we also need you to be healthy. Don’t push yourself.”

Lucy lifted her hand from the water, stretching out her pinky just like you did earlier. “Promise.” Your grin grew like the Cheshire Cat as you locked your finger into hers. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” You kept your eyes on her as you rose.

“Did you want to watch another film?” She asked as you were about to leave. “I won’t be long and I saw that look on your face when Russo said they were all going to watch Wicked. Fancy putting it on for us now?” She had a hopeful look on her face, one you never thought you’d see on her.

“Deal, can’t promise you I won’t sing along to defying gravity.”

“Good thing I have headphones.”

“Your singing is worse than mine Bronze!”

You left her in the bath before changing into an oversized hoodie and getting the film ready. Lucy wasn’t far behind you either. Her hair was damp and clinging to the sides of her face as she got ready for the film.

“Ready?” You asked her as your finger hovered over the play button on the remote.

“Of course.” She replied, her eyes glued to the screen as the film played.

You tried to focus on the film as best as you could but your mind was racing at what Lucy had told you. You couldn’t believe she could even walk. You knew she had a high pain threshold, you’d seen her get slammed onto the floor and get up like nothing had happened but a fractured tibia was definitely new and here she was laying in the bed beside yours like nothing had happened to her. She didn’t give up, you’d give her that.

Despite your thoughts a song in the film caught your attention.

What is this feeling, so sudden and new, I felt the moment I laid eyes on you?

You glanced over at Lucy as the song continued to play.

Loathing. Unadulterated loathing. For your face, your voice, your clothing. Let’s just say, I loathe it all.

Lucy glanced over at you, evidently your minds thinking the same thing.

Though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last. And I will be loathing, loathing you my whole life.

“You’d definitely be Elphaba.” You finally spoke up, glancing over to Lucy as her eyes met yours.

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Odd looking.”

She couldn’t help but let out a laugh at your response. “Well you’re definitely Galinda, full of yourself.”

“I am not!”

Every little trait, however small, makes my very flesh begin to crawl.

“You definitely are. At least Elphaba is powerful and good at what she does, which is just like me as I did win an award for being the world's best footballer.”

“Yeah, years ago!”

“And it still stands!”

“And where’s your ballon’dor?” Your tone was cocky. “Because mine is at my house.”

“You’re aware I play in defence and despite that I came runner up one year?"

Dear Galinda, you are just too good. How do you stand it? I don't think I could?

“It’s anyone’s game nowadays.” You shrugged. “Besides you’ve scored some alright goals in the past, nowhere near as good as mine but we can’t all be strikers.”

“Are you implying your position is better than mine?”

“No, every position is equal, just some positions get better awards than others.”

“I don’t see you being named the best player in the world.”

Poor Galinda forced to reside, with someone so disgusticified. We just want to tell you, we’re all on your side!

“Because it’s not a real award.”

“Yes it is!” Lucky huffed as she fell back into the pillows. “You’re just jealous!”

“Of a made up award?”

“It’s real, I have a trophy!”

“Yeah a plastic one.”

My pulse is rushing. My head is reeling. Oh what is this feeling?

“It’s metal actually.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Bronze.”

Lucy looked over to you to see you had the widest grin on your face. Her anger subsided but she still huffed in annoyance at how easily you were able to rile her up.

“You’re insufferable, you know that right?”

And I will be loathing, for forever loathing. Truly deeply loathing you. My whole life long.

“Oh I’m aware.” Your grin never faded as one crept its way onto her lips. She shook her head as you both turned your attention back to the TV.

The tournament was just getting started, good thing you had rather a long watchlist of films to get through.

—-

Tensions were high against the Netherlands, England had to win this game in order to keep their hopes of staying in the competition alive and so did the Netherlands. You had started the game and so had Lucy. As a right back she’d cross the ball into the box constantly in the hopes one of her teammates would deliver and by halftime, England were 2-0 up. Both you and Lauren James had found your way to the back of the net but England wasn’t finished yet.

With the constant pressure from England came frustration from the Netherlands and that frustration turned into constant fouls from their defence. Kerstin Casparij’s tackle on you was your final straw. The Man City defender took you down as you made an impressive run into the box.

When she took you down all the other defenders rushed to kick the ball away from underneath you. They’d lost their heads and part of you couldn’t blame them. The tournament they’d worked so hard to compete in was slowly slipping away from them. It didn’t help they were now 4-0 down and you had two goals to your name.

You watched as the ref didn’t even bat an eyelid to the fact that you had been taken down to the floor yet again. You winced slightly and rubbed the backs of your leg as Casparij spoke.

“Oh come on y/l/n, get up.”

You rose to your feet, glancing over at the referee who gave the free kick to the Netherlands. “Are you fucking serious?” Rolling your eyes you muttered to yourself. “Fucking blind referee.”

“Something not going your way y/l/n?” Casparij spat.

“Oh piss off.” You went to turn around and walk away from the situation when she pushed you.

“Cheats!”

“Cheats? You nearly took my fucking leg off!” Your face met hers with blinding rage.

“Your teammate knows all about that doesn’t she?” The defender shoved you away as you stepped closer which only pissed you off more.

As if she’d heard you, your eyes caught sight of Lucy storming up behind Casparij.

She’ll have my back, no matter how much she hates me.

The thought raced through your head as she got closer. You knew she’d put herself between you and Casparij and so her best to defuse tensions but her next move caught you by surprise. Instead of diffusing the ongoing argument, Bronze walked straight towards you, ducked her body down so fast that before you could even realise, she’d picked you up fireman style and was walking you away from the whole interaction.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You smacked a hand on her back to get her attention. “Lucy!” You screamed.

Lucy turned herself around so now she was looking back at the Netherlands team. “Sorry she can get a bit aggie when it’s her time of the month!”

“It is not my time of the month!” You called back in protest.

When you were far enough away Lucy planted you back on the floor, her hands gripping tightly on yours so you didn’t bolt away. “Why the fuck would you do that?” Your eyes met hers, a cocky grin on her face which only made your blood boil even more.

“To stop you from getting booked.”

“So you humiliated me in front of everyone?” Your tone was not only angry but hurt.

“Look you wouldn’t have walked away if I’d just pushed you away. I had to get you away from her, we can’t afford you to get booked for something stupid. That’s their plan, they want to make you lose your head, if they can’t beat us now they’ll want us to fall at the next hurdle. Don’t let them win. We’re the ones winning, there’s no need to get booked when we’re 4-0 up.”

She had a point. It would be stupid to get a yellow and then risk getting booked again and potentially miss out on one of the biggest games of your career. But did she need to drag you off like that? Well that depends on who you ask. To you, no she didn’t need to do that but to everyone else, yes she did.

You may have had a habit with blowing your lid at a few defenders. Especially when they wouldn’t stop fouling you and referees just stood there and did nothing. Your leg would be sore for days at the constant tackles, you already had one scar from a shitty tackle, you didn’t need another.

You tried to pull away from her grasp but she tightened her grip and pulled you closer to her chest. You could see every small detail on her face, drops of sweats from where she’d not stopped running for nearly an hour and a half made her face glow. You could feel her breath on your face as you quickly realised how close the two of you now were.

“Y/n?” Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts. A smirk on her face when she noticed you staring up at her.

“Yes, I get why you did it. Whatever it’s fine.” Lucy let go of your hands and took a step back, allowing you to walk in front of her. “You do know this is going to be all of social media and the news, right?” You cocked your brows at her after seeing the ref decided to hand out a yellow to Casparij but spared you.

“I think I can live with that, can you y/l/n?”

“I’ll let you know in the morning.” You let out a little laugh but your laughter was cut short when you saw Sarina sub both you and Lucy off, evidently not wanting another repeat of what had just happened.

You clapped the fans that had come to see you as you jogged off the pitch, giving Chloe a quick hug as she replaced you. Sarina gave you a quick hug as she spoke.

“You did well, hat trick against Wales?”

“We’ll see what the game brings.” You looked back at Lucy who was following you at a slower pace. “And the papers, sorry for that.”

“Don’t apologise to me. I understand but it’s the group stages, I don’t need you to miss a game.”

“Thank you.” You gave her a final smile before grabbing a bib to cover your kit. You watched as Lucy exchanged a few words with Sarina, presumably her thanking Lucy for stopping you from gaining a yellow.

The right back grabbed a bib and sat herself in the chair beside you. You two watched on as the final minutes of the game unfolded before you.

“Are you mad at me?” Lucy asked, her tone low so no one could hear her besides yourself.

“I’ll get over it.” You replied, your eyes focused on the game. “You know we’re gonna get called into interviews over that, right?”

“And what will you say to them?”

You turned your head to face hers. “My captain did what she had to do to defuse the situation.”

Lucy leaned down so her mouth was hovering over your ear. “Good girl.” She smirked, her face turning to face the pitch whilst yours heated up at her words. You grabbed your bottle and took a long sip of water desperately hoping she didn’t notice the subtle effect those two words had on you.

You coughed slightly as you spoke. “How’s your leg?” You covered your mouth as you spoke in case any cameras were focused on you both.

“It’s fine.” She gave you a reassuring smile before holding her pinky out to you. “Promise it doesn’t hurt.”

“Promise?” You linked your pinky with hers.

“Promise.” Her smile stayed the same as you two focused back on the game.

The full time whistle blew and England had won the game. You were all finally back in the tournament, one game left to go of the groups and then the knockout stage began. You faced Wales in a matter of days.

“Y/n, Lucy!” Sarina’s yells caused you both to look around for your manager. “Media want you for interviews, five minutes!”

“Ready to face endless questions?” Lucy asked, her gaze fixed on you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You can say for certain that today would be a first when being questioned about your teammate you hated carrying you away from a conflict.

Then again, there’s a first time for everything.

#womens football #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze smut #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze fanfic #lucy bronze #woso x reader #lionesses x reader #lionesses imagine #wlw smut #england lionesses

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neellscapsule · 6 hours ago

Text

grow wings . . . or whiskers

summary | in the middle of mourning, you see a new child on the batcave, wearing your boy's suit. the only thing that could help you heart now is your mom . . . and a cat.

pairing | bruce wayne x kent!reader. platonic superfam x kent!reader

warnings / tags | angst, mama and papa fight (😧), we have batmom with a semi functional depression, therapy, we get slight fluff, not much happiness but it's coming

word count | 5k

authors note | hi there!! english is not my first languaje so there might be some mistakes, or not, it can depend :)

this is part of the kent!batmom!reader series. this can be read as part 13. you'll the other parts on the masterlist.

taglist | @maolen @joonunivrs @c4ssi4-luv @fanfics4ever @inejskywalker @resting-confused-face @fionnalopez @stargirl9911 @idek101-01 @shqyou @mei-simp @serendippindots @sirlovel @aixaingela @pjmgojo @antixsocialx2 @nisarelle @realiliumfr @gojoswaterbottle @connnn @jjoppees @yall-imhere @sabrinasoppositee @nekotaetae @wendee-go @idiomaticpunk @fandomlover1235 @nommingonfood @omisotolongo @lortheswiftie @owihitmyhead @mosseetrees @c4xcocoa @qardasngan @radicalcannoliqueen @jeshomie @cutie232 @ravenqueen27 @thy-crimson-king @thewiselionessss @fernomenal @chiizuluvr @natalia42069 @invinciblewaffles @changyumi3 @mbioooo0000 @caramelised-onions @nymphzy0 @lilylovelyxo @notahappystan @sad-girl09 @bunniotomia @lordbugs @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @sick2mystomach @redpool @optimisticdelusionfest @ccup1dzz @lumestar @mistbornwithawritingproblem

THREE WEEKS WAS A STRANGE AMOUNT OF TIME.

It wasn’t long enough for the wound to close — not even for the bleeding to stop — but it was just enough for the shock to dull into something quieter. Not less brutal. Just quieter.

Three weeks meant everyone else had returned to the routines of life, or tried to.

Alfred had asked gently whether you wanted tea this morning. Bruce had gone back to the Cave a few nights ago, mostly to pace and not to work. Dick came every day without fail, even though he didn’t speak much, didn’t try to make you talk either. He only sat near you on the garden bench sometimes, hoodie pulled over his head, shoes muddied, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers until it snapped.

And you?

You’d stopped sleeping almost entirely. Sleep required surrender — a trust in the world to hold you, to not pull the ground out from beneath your feet while you weren’t looking. And you didn’t have that trust anymore.

Instead, you wandered. From your room to the window. From the window to the hallway. From the hallway to the greenhouse, and then out to the garden where everything still bloomed because life had no sense of timing. There was no real rhythm anymore — no hunger, no sleep cycles, no pull toward anything but breath.

You had dug with your own hands.

Alfred had offered a trowel, a set of tools, gloves — but you had shaken your head, taken the earth bare-palmed and kneeling. You needed to feel it. Needed to suffer through the way the dirt got in under your nails and scraped the skin.

Forget-me-nots were for your daughter. Tiny and soft blue, they sprang upward in scattered beds, barely noticeable unless you were looking for them. And nestled at the center of that white sea, were the only colors that didn’t blend in — the only colors that didn’t apologize.

White anemones, with deep violet middles, grew in clusters. Jason's flowers, next to an engraved gold plaque, whose letters belonged to your handwriting: forever in my soul, imprinted in my heart.

You had chosen them because they looked like him. Striking. Contrasting. Both delicate and unrepentantly bold. You didn’t know if it was poetic or pitiful — that this was all you could do now — but you did it anyway.

You would sit between the two flower beds every morning. Just sit. Sometimes with tea. Sometimes with your arms wrapped around your knees. You didn’t speak. You didn’t cry anymore, either — not in the way you used to. Now it was just a pressure behind your ribs. A locked room that you kept shut tight.

You were sitting there when your therapist’s voice tried pulling you back into the moment.

“Y/N?”

You blinked. Slowly. It took a second before the interior of her office came into focus. Soft lighting. Neutral colors. A pale green couch beneath you. Your hands curled on your lap, fingers tangled in the hem of your cardigan. And her, Dr. Leonard — mid-fifties, kind eyes, round glasses — tilting her head as she waited for you to catch up.

“I’m sorry,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“No need to apologize,” she said gently. “You looked like you were somewhere else.”

You gave a slight nod. Somewhere else was easier.

There was a pause, the kind that wasn’t awkward, just observant. She didn’t press. You liked that about her. You’d been seeing her for a few months already — back when the pregnancy finally seemed to be going well. She’d helped you manage your anxiety. Had helped you start a journal. Now, all the pages were blank again.

Dr. Leonard crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward slightly, her tone remaining soft. “Do you want to talk about where you were just now?”

You breathed in, then out. Your voice stayed flat. “The garden.”

“Still tending to the flowers?”

You nodded. “I try. I think it’s the only place I can still breathe. The house… it’s too full. Every room holds a version of them.”

She didn’t ask who them meant. She already knew. Jason. Your daughter. One gone by decision, the other by consequence.

“Grief is very physical,” she said, voice slow. “It can live in the walls, in objects, in movement. I’m glad you’ve found a space that feels survivable.”

You gave a quiet hum of agreement. But your gaze remained low.

“I didn’t know where else to put it,” you said quietly. “The love. The grief. It had to go somewhere. So I put it in the soil.”

Dr. Halberg nodded again. “That makes sense. It’s something living. Something that changes.”

“It’s something that blooms,” you said, voice lower. “Even after they’re gone.”

You rubbed your palms against your skirt.

“I feel… like I’m here,” you said slowly, “but not really here. Like I’m dreaming, and someone else is walking around with my face.”

The doctor watched you gently. “That’s a normal part of grief. It’s disassociation. A way to protect the mind when something has been too painful to process all at once.”

You looked at her then, more directly than usual. “Is it supposed to get worse before it gets better?”

“It doesn’t always follow rules,” she said. “But yes. It can feel like that. Because as the numbness fades, the pain becomes clearer. You begin to feel everything you were too shocked to feel in the moment.”

You looked away. Then, after a long silence, you said:

“No mother should have to bury their child.”

Her expression softened deeply. She didn’t speak — not yet. Letting the words come.

“Mothers are not meant to bury sons or daughters. It is not the natural order,” you said, voice low, almost hollow.

“No,” she agreed softly. “It’s not.”

You didn’t cry. Not anymore. Your body felt past tears. There was a ringing where your heartbeat should be.

“I keep thinking about that moment,” you whispered. “The last one. I had Jason in my arms. He was so still. Still in that way he never was, not even asleep. And I kept telling him things I never got to say. Things I had planned on telling him when he got home — if he came home angry, if he came home sorry. And then it happened. Just… the pain started. And I thought it was grief. I thought it was the kind of agony that couldn’t kill but came close. But it wasn’t. It was my daughter, leaving too.”

You swallowed hard.

“He killed my boy,” you said. “And took my daughter apart with it.”

Dr. Leonard didn’t flinch. Her face remained tender, readable. “Can I ask… when you say he, are you talking about the man who—?”

“Yes,” you said. Sharp, unkind. “Yes. That fucker. And that . . . that woman too. He only wanted to know, he wished to find out more about his origin. And it made him hopeful. Jason, hopeful. You don't understand what it takes— took to make that boy like that. And then — and then—”

Your voice broke, but not into tears. It broke into silence.

“I hate him,” you said, not proud, not loud. “I hate him so much. And I’m not supposed to say that. I’m not supposed to carry that. I’m supposed to believe people can change. That pain is forgivable. But I don’t want forgiveness. I want justice.”

“Justice,” Dr. Leonard said softly, repeating your word. “What would justice look like, for you?”

You thought about it. Thought about the seconds of peace that might come if you didn’t feel so powerless. Thought about holding Jason and your daughter again. Thought about laughter in the halls, and how long it had been since joy didn’t feel like betrayal.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I really don’t know anymore.”

A longer silence this time. Dr. Leonard folded her hands, watched you gently.

“I’m trying,” you murmured. “To be okay. For Bruce. For Dick. For Alfred. For Ace, even. I make tea. I shower. I go to the garden. I even answer questions. But inside—”

You stopped. Pressed your knuckles to your mouth.

“It’s like someone took a shovel to my chest,” you whispered. “Dug out everything I had.”

“I believe you,” she said gently.

“I keep thinking…” You blinked slowly, lips trembling. “What if I had caught him before? What if I had tried harder to understand? What if I hadn’t let him leave?”

Dr. Halberg’s voice was quiet but firm. “Y/N, what happened to Jason is not your fault.”

“I’m his mother,” you replied. “It doesn’t matter whose womb he came from. I was the one who promised he’d be okay. I was the one he came to when he scraped his knees. I was the one who held him when he had migraines. Who read to him. Cooked for him. I knew him.”

“I know,” she said.

You looked at the floor. “I failed him.”

“No,” she repeated. “You loved him. With your entire being. That’s not failure.”

Your throat felt raw. “Then why do I feel so empty?”

Dr. Halberg didn’t answer right away.

“When we talk about processing loss,” she said slowly, “people tend to think it means letting go. Moving on. But I don’t believe that’s what you’re here to do. Not really.”

You raised your gaze just a little.

“You’re not here to forget them,” she continued. “You’re here to survive them. And that survival might mean anger. It might mean silence. But it can also mean learning how to carry their memory differently. Embrace it, rather than fear it.”

“By planting flowers?” you said, bitterly.

“By writing,” she said.

Your brows furrowed.

“Not to let the feeling go. But to make space for it. To hold it in your hands and say, this is mine. This grief belongs to me because my love was real.” She paused, let it sit. “You don’t have to show it to anyone. But I think you need to speak to them. Even if only on paper.”

You swallowed again. Your mouth felt dry.

“I used to write to my brother,” you said faintly. “Back when he was traveling. I used to send him letters.”

“And what happened to them?”

You gave a slow shrug. “He kept every one.”

Dr. Leonard smiled softly. “Then I think Jason and your daughter would like some letters too.”

Something caught behind your ribs. Not a sob. Just weight. Heaviness. The threat of movement. But it didn’t come. You only nodded slowly.

“I’ll try,” you whispered. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but… I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said warmly. “And if it doesn’t feel right today, maybe it will tomorrow. Or the day after. Grief doesn’t follow a straight line. It follows you.”

You didn’t say anything back. But when the session ended, you stood. And when you returned to the manor and stepped out into the garden once again, the wind curled through the petals of the white anemones, and you could swear — just for a second — that it sounded like his laugh.

And that felt like enough to begin.

My dear Martha, I'm sorry for my silence. I'm sorry that I can't mourn as properly as I have with the rest of your siblings. I'm sorry.

I have buried you in a private cemetery, but I keep you on my heart. I guard you in my dreams. I hope your dad's parents are with you. I hope your brother is taking care of you as well. I hope you can be held. I keep dreaming about you. And when I see the flowers I planted, I dream is your hand caressing them.

I keep thinking about that dark baby hair you had. I want to know what colour your eyes were, how sweet they would have been, how your lips would curl up with a smile. How soft you would have been.

Today, you were still supposed to be in my belly. Perhaps I would be on your nursery, reading to you while you kicked, or resting with Ace at my side. But you would still be here.

I should stop counting the weeks, but I don't exactly how to do it.

You were perfect. You would have been the most loved little girl in the whole world. Although I never held you, and we never had the pleasure to meet like we should have, I knew the feeling of carrying you close to my heart. I suppose now you are closer than ever.

The world never got to meet you. Your father and I never got to kiss you. But you are loved. You will always be loved. To the end and back.

With all her love,mom.

It had been almost two weeks.

Almost two weeks since you started writing. A month from Jason's death. A month since you lost your babe as well.

Alfred had asked you — gently, not pressing, never pressing — if you could let Bruce know that dinner was ready, and you had said yes. You had said yes because he had been gentle with you. You were trying to be whole again. A person again. Something besides the ashes left behind.

This would be your first time down there. Since it happened.

So, you descended. Each step a silent mantra, whispered beneath your breath. “You’re just letting him know dinner’s ready. That’s it. Just that. Just dinner.”

Your footfalls on the Cave stairs were light. Careful. Even with the darkness yawning below, you didn’t reach for the lights. You knew the way down. You had always known. The Cave was like muscle memory by now. The scent of ozone and stone, the hum of machinery — even those old, old stalactites clinging to the ceiling like teeth.

“Bruce?” your voice was soft as you stepped further down, arms crossed gently over your chest. “Alfred says dinner’s on. You’ve been down here all day, love. You need to eat. Both of us do.”

You stepped out onto the floor of the Cave. And stopped. Froze. Your stomach turned inside out — and then dropped, like something fell out of it.

There was a boy standing by the main console. Not Jason. That was your first thought, the horrible, instinctual one that broke something under your ribs. Not Jason.

He was smaller, younger. Maybe thirteen. Dressed in Robin’s colors —a red and green suit, the same R on his chest, the yellow cape fluttering a bit behind him as he turned to face you with excitement in his wide, shining eyes.

“Oh,” the boy gasped, straightening. He had black hair, slightly spiky, a pale complexion, and too much enthusiasm in his voice when he took a step toward you. “You’re her, aren’t you? Mrs. Wayne —I mean, you’re Y/N Kent. I’ve read about you. I’ve seen interviews. You’re even cooler in person. Wow. I’ve been dying to meet you!”

He grinned, eager, like a puppy bouncing on his paws.

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t.

Your breath caught violently, trapped somewhere in your windpipe. Your lungs couldn’t decide whether to expand or collapse. Something between the two happened — something wrong. Something dangerous.

Robin.

He was wearing Jason’s mantle. He was smiling in Jason’s suit. He was alive. Alive, and your boy wasn’t.

Bruce appeared from behind one of the worktables, shoulders tense the moment he saw you. His face shifted, darkened, softened, all at once.

But you weren’t looking at him. You couldn’t. You stared at the child in front of you, a child who kept talking, unaware of the blade he had shoved into your heart by merely existing.

“I’m Tim Drake,” he said, still smiling. “I’ve only just started but I’ve been training for so long. Since before—I mean, I just want to help. I think I can help. I really want to make a difference. It’s amazing to meet you, I’ve wanted to for—”

You turned around.

The movement was sharp and final. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t look at Bruce. Your hands clenched at your sides. You walked away.

“Y/N,” Bruce called. He didn’t yell. His voice was soft, but it chased after you like a shadow. “My love—wait, please.”

You didn’t wait.

You were already up the stairs by the time he caught up to you. You pushed open the door to the hallway with such force it slammed against the wall. The portraits shook. Ace, who had been waiting nearby, whined and stepped back.

“You—” you choked, stepping back from it. “You took it down.”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Bruce said, finally reaching for your arm. “This isn’t—”

You ripped yourself out of his grasp. “You took it down!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to have to see it every time—”

“So you replaced him? Just like that?” You turned to him, breath ragged now, your eyes wild, full of something you hadn’t let loose in weeks. “You put another kid in the suit and thought I wouldn’t notice? Thought I’d what—say congratulations?!”

“Let me explain,” Bruce said again, reaching for your wrist.

You pulled away. Hard.

“No.” You turned, fully, your eyes blazing with something deeper than anger. “You don’t get to explain. There is no explaining this.”

“He’s not—” Bruce started.

“You put another child in that suit?” your voice shook, but not with weakness. “Are you—have you lost your goddamn mind?”

He inhaled, jaw tight.

“He came to me,” he said. “He found the Cave. He figured it out on his own. He knows who I am. Who we are.”

“And you rewarded him,” you snapped. “You handed him the cape. You handed him Jason’s suit, Bruce.”

“Y/N,” he said, gently, firmly, too late. “Y/N, I was going to tell you. I meant to.”

“Yes, it is,” you hissed, chest heaving. “That suit? That name? That’s Jason. It was Dick once, and now . . . now you just do it again. That was our boy. You buried him. And now you’ve replaced him.”

“It’s not a replacement,” Bruce said quietly, reaching for you again. “I’m not trying to replace him.”

You slapped his hand away.

“You think that’s what Jason would’ve wanted?” your voice cracked again. “You think he’d want another child in that suit weeks after he died?”

Bruce stepped toward you, his own voice low, grounded, steady. Too steady. “I didn’t ask him to be Robin,” he said. “He came to me. I tried to say no.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No,” he admitted. “Because he needs help. He was watching us for months before this. He knew everything. He figured out who we were. And he wants to help.”

“You don’t get to do this,” you said, voice shaking, jaw trembling. “Not now. Not when I’m still burying my son in my head every time I close my eyes.”

“It’s not—”

“You don’t get to do this!” You shouted, louder now, the sound bouncing off the cave walls. “You don’t get to move on when I haven’t even figured out how to breathe without him!”

Your hands clenched at your sides, trying not to shake.

“He died in your arms,” you said, the words like ash. “And now you put someone else in that suit. You didn’t even ask me. You just decided. Like he wasn’t real.”

Bruce’s face stayed unreadable, too tired, too sad to fight.

You stepped back.

“I can’t do this,” you said, trembling.

He looked at you, jaw twitching. His voice was low. “Y/N…”

“I can’t try to put myself together while you do this. While you break everything we built just to fill a silence you created.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, the barest edge of anger in his voice now.

“No, Bruce,” you said, eyes wide and fierce. “What’s not fair is that I lost both of my children in one night and you didn’t even pause long enough to grieve. You just—just recruited someone else. A child. Another child.”

He tried to speak. You didn’t let him.

“Do you know what I’ve done the last two weeks? I’ve sat in a garden and talked to two graves that carry our children. I planted forget-me-nots for our daughter. White anemones for Jason. That’s all I have now. That’s all I can do. And I told myself, it’s fine. We’ll be fine. Bruce is strong. He’ll break down in his own way, and then we’ll come back together. But no.”

You could hear his steps, slow and certain behind you, but he didn’t try to stop you again until you were upstairs, in the room you’d barely touched since the funeral. You opened the closet, grabbed the duffel bag you hadn’t used in months.

Bruce stood in the doorway, watching. His shadow long and defeated.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Please. Don’t go.”

“I need to,” you answered, not looking at him. “I can’t heal here. Not while you do this. Not while you pull another child into that madness.”

“He’s safer here with me,” Bruce replied.

You turned, eyes sharp. “He’s a child. A child who’s excited to wear the bloodstained costume of another dead boy.”

“That’s not what this is,” he said. It was not the suit that was bloodied, he said, on your mind.

You zipped your bag. “It is to me,” you said.

“You’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m thinking clearer than I have in days,” you muttered. “I need peace. I need time. I need a world where I don’t see red and green every time I turn a corner.”

“You think I don’t miss him too?”

You flinched. Your hand paused in your packing.

“I see him every time I close my eyes,” Bruce admitted. “I hear him in the Cave. I smell his shampoo on the towels. I pick up his favorite cereal by habit when I go out. I’m not trying to forget him.”

You turned then. Finally faced him.

“Then why would you put someone else in that suit?” you asked, your voice quiet, broken in new ways. “Why would you make me look at a child and think—think he might die too?”

He didn’t have an answer. Then you picked up your bag and brushed past him.

“I’ll be at the farm,” you said. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to come back.”

You left, and the door closed behind you.

My dearest, Jason, I can't do it without you.

I sometimes don't remember I don't have you anymore. I think you are on patrol on the nights, at school on the morning, and in the library by the evening. I forget. I remember. Ever since you left, everything's been a total disaster. And the worst part is, I can't actually tell anyone why are you gone.

Sometimes I imagine you're still here. Sometimes you are kneeling with me at the garden, both of us tending to the flowers. But now I do that alone, reading that plate again and again, until the words turn to the dark. Sometimes I hope I wake up and see you reading Jane Austen again, but I only see the book right in the place where you left it.

You have slipped through my fingers and now I don't know where to put them to rest, because there are no scrapes to kiss better, no hair to caress, no child to held and rock to sleep. I kept our photos. I kept our memories. But I only wanted you to be here forever.

Ever since you passed away, I've been mad at the world. I have been angry. I feel alone. And I don't have anyone to blame for that except this stupid feeling that eats me from the inside out. You have left a haunted house on my heart, and I can't get it out, simply because it's the only thing I can hold on to.

I tried to go on talks. To hear about other mothers losing their children. But I can't.

I can't because I can't understand that I have lost you.

I can't because he took you away, and I can't grasp the sensation of not having you calling me 'ma' every morning.

I'm not angry at you.

I'm angry at everyone else. But not you.

I have lost you to a monster that runs and laughs, and I can't do anything, I can't see something that reminds me of you, I can't hear his name, I can't do anything without trembling in rage, in guilt, haunted by a ghost that doesn't seem to notice.

I'm sorry. My sweet baby. I wish I've been there. I wish I could have rocked you in my arms while you closed your sweet eyes. I wish I had comforted you. I wish you came back. I wish you were here. I wish I could see your eyes again, your smile shining in the morning. I wish I was with you, my eternal and unforgettable child.

I wish I could grow wings. That way, I would be free to go with you.

With all her love, your ma.

The farmhouse was quieter than you remembered, though maybe that wasn’t true at all. Maybe it was just that your own mind made everything quieter, muffled through the haze of pain that clung to you like smoke. Still, there was something familiar about the slowness of mornings here. The way the sunlight filtered through old curtains, the scent of strong coffee and oat pancakes lingering in the kitchen, the distant, steady rhythm of your father’s boots on the porch.

It had been almost a week since you’d left Gotham, and though your suitcase remained half-unpacked, your body hadn’t left the bed much that first day. Martha had just sat beside you with knitting in her hands and soft words when necessary. She never pushed. Your father had cooked dinner and Clark had carried your bags up as if you were made of glass. It was the same Smallville love, familiar and soft, but your heart felt too swollen and bruised to accept it fully.

You spent most mornings wandering through the pasture. No shoes, just your socks wet with dew and your arms wrapped tight around your ribs. The air here smelled like cut grass and tractor oil and the far-off ozone of a storm waiting to happen. Jonathan had fixed the old wooden bench under the tree behind the barn for you. A quiet place to sit. Think. Or not think.

Clark came by often — even when he wasn’t staying at the farm. You heard the small sonic boom when he landed sometimes, light enough not to shake the old bones of the house. He didn’t say much the first few days. Just stayed close. Made sure you drank water. Made sure you were eating enough. Made sure your head stayed above water.

And Lois, sweet as always, came by with her sharp tongue and gentle eyes. She never spoke in platitudes. She brought you a new notebook one afternoon, wrapped in string, with a pen tied to the front.

“Just in case,” she’d said, and pressed it into your hands.

You didn’t open it.

Jon was the loudest light in the house, his small seven-year-old body full of questions and energy. You heard him once whisper to Clark, “Is auntie okay?” and Clark just hugged him.

The only time you smiled was with Conner. He came up behind you on the porch one day, arms full of tools, his hair a mess, and said, “This place is like an emotional gravity well.” And for some reason, the absurdity of it made you snort. He looked at you, surprised, then offered you a screwdriver as if it were a peace offering.

“Wanna help me fix the chicken coop?”

You hadn’t touched a coop in years. But you nodded.

There was warmth in the rhythm here. Even in your grief. A comfort in the way your mother brewed her tea, in the creak of the floorboards, in the weight of Pa's arm around your shoulders when you sat out at dusk. But the nights were harder. Always the nights. You would lie in bed and press your palm against your belly that no longer swelled, feeling its emptiness. Like the silence of a bell that once rung.

And you’d close your eyes and see Jason. Laughing. Frowning. Swinging his legs off the kitchen counter, his mismatched socks. You’d see him walking next to you at the grocery store. You’d hear his voice in the house, trailing off in half a joke.

Every night, the ache dug deeper.

So when the storm came, heavy and loud, almost two weeks in — you didn’t walk inside. The storm hit you hard, cold and biting. It clung to your hair and soaked your clothes within seconds, but you didn’t stop walking. You wandered toward the barn, the grass slick beneath your steps. Wind curled around your ankles. Thunder cracked in the far hills.

Then you heard it.

A soft, pitiful whimper. Small. Fragile. It came from near the barn, just under the edge of the left window. At first you thought it might be a bird or a raccoon — but then it came again. A mewl. High-pitched. Desperate.

You crouched slowly, careful not to startle whatever it was.

And there, tucked into the shadows, was a cat. Wet to the bone, and trembling so hard that you felt it in your own chest. Not a kitten, but not full-grown either. It didn’t run when you crouched down. Didn’t hiss or flee. It just looked up at you with round, frightened eyes and let out the softest mewl.

“C’mere, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you.”

It hesitated. Then limped forward.

You lifted the poor thing gently into your arms, its shivering body pressing tight against your soaked chest. The rain continued to fall, but you didn’t rush. You stroked a hand slowly down its back, felt the way its spine curved under your palm.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “I’ve got you.”

Your mother saw you come in — hair soaked, sweater clinging, your arms full of something small and shaking — and gasped. Clark turned from the stove, eyebrows lifting in confusion until he saw what was in your arms.

“Oh no,” Lois said with a fond little laugh. “Who’s this?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, voice low. “I found her by the barn.”

You dried the little creature as gently as you could, wrapping her in the towel and setting her down on a warm blanket by the fire. Jon came down the stairs, eyes wide.

“A cat?! Can we keep it? Mom, can we?”

“She’s not a toy, sweetie,” Lois said with a soft smile. “She looks like she belongs to your aunt now.”

You swallowed thickly, crouched down beside the blanket. The cat was already purring, despite the shivering.

“What’s her name?” Conner asked, head tilted with curiosity.

You looked up slowly. Then, back at the little thing curling into herself, soft and white with mud still darkening her ears.

“Whiskers,” you said. “Her name’s Whiskers.”

Clark chuckled under his breath. “Original.”

You looked at him, and for once, almost smiled.

You didn’t cry.

Not when you picked her up and held her again. Not when she purred louder, or when her nose pressed against the hollow of your neck. But something warm settled in your chest — different from the pain, softer than the hollowness. It didn’t fix anything. It didn’t try.

It just existed.

The way Whiskers did.

The way you still did, despite everything.

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