#He's 15 years old and also only 15 months old and also also just 15 minutes old
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Hoarding and Learning to be Free
This week's Parsha is Parshat BeShalach. My B' Mitzvah parsha is Parshat BeShalach, so I've been very familiar with the Parsha for as long as I can remember. Of course, as a kid we usually focused more on the first part of the Parsha; the miraculous exodus from Egypt, the splitting of the sea, and Miriam's tambourine and song. The rest of the Parsha; the bitter waters, the manna, and the war with Amalek all seemed overshadowed by the grandeur of the Exodus. The nitty gritty details about how the people ate and drank or the all-too-real perils that befall a nomadic nation in the wilderness just don't make for an inspiring Dvar Torah for a 12 year old to proudly share.
When I would learn about the "other parts", I never really connected with them, and sometimes I would object to them. I found it unfair that G-d would give the Israelites the manna every morning, but not allow them to save any for the next day (except on Fridays). I knew that G-d promised the Israelites that He'd replenish the manna every morning, but it seemed unnecessary and even cruel to prevent them from exercising the natural instinct to save. Especially when saving for the future, both knowledge and material possessions, is so important for the continuation of the Jewish people today. I never really saw the significance of the manna in the otherwise foundational origin story of Judaism.
Then the Simchat Torah massacre happened, and the whole world watched as masses of Jews were taken into captivity once more.
This past Sunday, I had the privilege of listening to an Israeli psychologist describe her work in rehabilitating those hostages that had been freed within the last 15 months. Among many harrowing testimonies, one thing she said stuck with me. She said that many of her clients who had been freed in the November 2023 hostage "deal" more than a year ago still displayed acute survival behaviour that they had picked up in their captivity, such as speaking in a whisper, agoraphobia, and, most poignantly for me- hoarding food and resources.
It makes sense, of course. I know how the human body can react to trauma, and how even once a person is out of a dangerous environment, the body can still behave as though it is still in grave danger. Indeed, hoarding tendencies, though not of food specifically, is something that I see in my own family going back generations. I know many other Jews who either struggle with hoarding themselves or have a family member who does. It's one of the unmistakable hallmarks of generational trauma, especially the trauma of captivity and displacement, both situations that Jews have known all too well throughout history.
It hadn't really occured to me that the newly freed Israelites would have the same struggles, or that the Torah would even record how they expressed and copied with them. Now, in the story of the manna, of the compulsion the Israelites had to hoard their food to the point where G-d had to command them not to, I see the manifestations of Jewish trauma today. I see it in my Bubby nibbling on the last scraps of meat from a chicken carcass. I see it in freed Israeli hostages hiding food because they remember that not so long ago they had none. I see it in newly liberated Concentration Camp prisoners dying because of their desperation to eat after being starved for so long.
If the book of Bereishit is the story of G-d teaching humans how to be human, the book of Shemot isn't just a story of freedom. It's the story of G-d teaching the Jewish people how to be free.
It's not enough that G-d physically freed the Israelites from slavery and bondage- it would have been enough had He done only that- we sing it in the Pesach song, after all. But He also taught us how to be free, in the same way psychologists and counselors are gently teaching the traumatized former captives among us the same.
Of course, as a nation we still struggle with the same maladaptive patterns our ancestors did. We still struggle with getting used to freedom, as evidenced by the generational expressions of anxiety, obsessive compulsive tendencies, and what is derisively called "Jewish neuroticism". It would be easy to say that we should just learn to be free the way the Israelites slowly did, but we aren't really all that free, are we? We aren't as autonomous as we might think or hope ourselves to be, and every day is a stark reminder of how our very lives are in constant dependence on the good graces of whatever outside force is in power.
I don't really have a message of assurance here for that. Like I said in the beginning, the story of the manna doesn't make for as uplifting a Dvar Torah as Kriyat Yam Suf does. But perhaps the knowledge that our ancestors have always struggled and nevertheless persisted can be a comfort in these times. Perhaps knowing that our ancestors were not only physically freed but guided into living as a free people will give us the hope that we can not only be free, but know how to be free.
#jumblr#dvar torah#antisemitism#trauma#generational trauma#judaism#if jew know jew know#parsha#parshat beshalach#hoarding#hope#torah#tanakh#my writing#i/p conflict#holocaust
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Jason Todd is Mentally Sixteen During Under The Red Hood*
(The overly long introduction is all in brackets! You will not experience too much confusion should you choose to skip, so feel free to skip. The content of the post will be under the cut.
*As always with the DCU, consistency is far more dead than the Waynes could ever be. This post is about Jason's timeline from UTRH, and only UTRH. I will use a couple of sources from other places for information we cannot confirm from UTRH, but can vaguely assume are true there. However I will not be talking about the timelines from other media, and especially not other continuities, in this post. I will also be interpreting certain scenes, and that ultimately makes this post somewhat subjective.
I love UTRH a lot, and I found that most other Jason fans love it too. We often use it as a major content source and base a lot of our opinions and feelings surrounding Jason on it. However, in hyperfixating and re-reading it several times over, I have realised that a lot of us miss a major detail that gets exposition-ed to us in Chapter 14/[Batman(1940) Annual #25]!
Of course, if you've come to the same conclusions as I have, and choose to ignore them, then absolutely more power to you. I'm not here to police which canon you folks choose to stitch together and treat as your own, if you choose to interact with canon at all. These are all just comics, have fun!
On top of that, it sometimes gets vague and up to interpretation (which is honestly an aspect I kind of like) so this can all be considered my own opinion if you personally disagree with an interpretation I make <3
Anyways, a lot of us enjoy the angst factor that comes out of Jason being young, but not many of us realise exactly how young he is. This is something I wish to explain to you folks for your content consumption pleasure ^^
Overly long introduction done, yo!)
1. Jason dies at 15 years old.
I am so sorry, I could not find a primary source for this.
Secondary Source A- Word of mouth. Various different Tumblr and Reddit posts I have found when looking this up have listed Jason as being 15 when he dies. Including this post from @thebatmanfiles-blog, this post from @fuckyeahjasontodd, this post from @oh-mother-of-darkness, and these posts from u/GooderCand and u/InDarknessOftFindI
Secondary Source B- Jason's death certificate from [The Batman Files]
Not to be mistaken for [Batman Secret Files], Matthew K. Manning's [The Batman Files] is not a canon DC property work, to my knowledge. (It's honestly kind of confusing, but I'm listing this as a secondary source because I am... pretty sure that [The Batman Files] is not a canon DC property, it is not available on the DC Database Fanwiki or the Official DC Website).
2. Jason Is Revived Six Months After His Death
[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25] *(This is just a fun fact, feel free to skip. The page of Jason being alive is taken directly from the, at the time unreleased, [Batman #428: Robin Lives!], with only being slightly recoloured. Due to the gimmick of Jason's death, [Batman (1940) #428] had two different versions drawn out, and though I wasn't able to find any interviews or comments about this on shallow research, it's nice to imagine that the producers of UTRH wanted to showcase Aparo and DeCarlo's unseen efforts ^^)
Jason was originally supposed to live (according to the narration)-- we can use this to say that his injuries (by comic book logic) were non-fatal.
Jason, in his coffin, is shown with the same injuries as his dying-but-not-supposed-to-die-body-- we can use this to say he is biologically 15 when revived.
After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 15.5 Jason's Biological Age- 15 Jason's Mental Age- 15
3. Jason Gets Into A Coma For One Year
[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]
After digging himself out of the grave, Jason is hit by a car (man, he cannot catch a break)
He is hospitalized and operated on, before going into a coma for One Year
General-Comic-Book-Logic and Actual Research (I sincerely apologize but I'm not looking through genuine medical documents to verify this one, I'm just gonna trust the basic google search) both agree that coma patients do not mentally age
This means Jason's mental age stagnates for One Year
One Year After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 16.5 Jason's Biological Age- 16 Jason's Mental Age- 15
4. Jason Spends Two Years Catatonic*
[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25] *The original describes this state as Jason being run by his instincts, without reason, clarity, or memory. Fans have labeled this as catatonia. I will be referring to this state as catatonia for convenience sake.
Jason wakes up from his coma, but is catatonic
He spends One Year being homeless and living off of instincts (man, he CANNOT catch a break)
[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]
An international game of telephone occurs when a thug sees Jason doing some Robin moves
The Al Ghul's are at the end of the line and kidnap Jason
They keep him, in his catatonic state, for One Year
It is unclear, at this point, whether Jason's catatonia has impaired his mental aging
Three Years After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 18.5 Jason's Biological Age- 18 Jason's Mental Age- ???
5. Jason Gets Dunked Into The Lazarus Pit
[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]
Here is where my interpretation comes in,
Jason's first words upon leaving the Pit are ["What!? What is happening to me!?"]
Jason, while running away with Talia asks, ["Talia?! What the hell do you-- Where was--!"]
Both of these show Jason being confused about his situation, and unsure of his surroundings. Especially the confusion in ["Talia?!"] means that he is surprised/confused to see her.
All of this goes to say-- he doesn't have any memory of how he came to be in this situation, and he doesn't have any memory of his time being catatonic.
HOWEVER!!! The possible counter-argument is that during his remembering sequence, Talia is a figure on screen, which has the mild implication that she is something he remembers?? This contradicts my interpretation but also has less evidence.
[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]
Jason remembers his death and the events leading up to it, but there is no mention of whether or not he remembers his years being catatonic.
I interpret this as him not remembering.
With My Interpretations, Three Years After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 18.5 Jason's Biological Age- 18 Jason's Mental Age- 15
6. Jason Prepares For Being Red Hood
[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]
We get that... and then the BTS of Hush. That's literally all we get.
It's so unclear, I'm sorry it's really sort of impossible to give you even a vague estimate of how much time passes.
I've been trying to comb through the rest of UTRH to find things but we only get clear time stamps after Jason's debut as Red Hood. (i may have missed something, though! feel free to lmk if youve found a time stamp in UTRH before Jason's debut)
I only have my personal thoughts that it was probably a year or less between this and Jason's debut.
For the purposes of this post, we'll just say that roughly a year passes with training and preparation.
7. Jason Debuts As Red Hood
[Under The Red Hood #1] / [Batman (1940) #635]
So, at the start of Under The Red Hood, Four-ish Years After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 19 - 20 Jason's Biological Age- 19 Jason's Mental Age- 16
And alternatively, if you mentally age him during his catatonic era, Jason's (alt) Mental Age- 18
(Now it is time for the Overly Long Conclusion! These will just be more of my personal thoughts and comments, and will be within brackets as well ^^
Honestly, despite me piecing this version of canon together, I don't usually subscribe to it lol. I find UTRH Jason attractive, and canon is what you choose to Frankenstein together, so I usually place him as actually around 19.
But if you consider the events of UTRH through the lense of a deeply traumatized and angsty teenager, that happens to have way too much power? It feels... oddly logical? Like, through this perspective, I look at Jason telling Bruce that he's the better Batman in quite possibly the most dramatic way ever and I go, "Oh of course he would, he's sixteen. I would say shit like that at sixteen if I had even half the baggage."
TBH, I don't think that Winnick actually considered this timeline when writing UTRH Jason, but it fits together really funnily well with his character.
It also makes everything quite a lot more tragic. With this perspective, its more than just losing his teenagehood to shitty circumstances. He is actively and presently still a teenager, a child, when in shitty circumstances. Jason is a sixteen year old child when his father slits his throat.
Actual For Realsies Not Just By Technicality Teenage Crime Lord is absolutely insane, deeply tragic, and more than a little bit funny to me.
If you read through all of this, I'd absolutely love to hear your thoughts and perspectives. Whether you see where I'm coming from, whether you have a completely different perspective, or whether you like thinking of this only sometimes! Hell, even if it's just to cry with me over The Tragedy of Jason Todd, I'd love to chat.
Thank you for your time, if you made it all the way through! Overly Long Conclusion done, yo!)
[My Drawing, lol]
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sneeping with his legs up over his head for some reason... weird boye
#cats#love the second picture... skrungly sleepy well rested boye face...#since he's an elderly boy now sometimes when he wakes up from a nap he looks a bit scruffy and squinty eyed#Hard to beleive he's like 15 though.. he still looks like a kitten to me.. due to his giant round creature eyes and childlike demeanor#I think it's interesting that like... baby cats are babies. kittens are kittens. and you can tell a cat is like 'young adult' phase#looking from like a few months to maybe 1yr or 2yrs.. but after that they just always look the same to me#a 5 yr old cat is a 10 yr old cat is a 15 year old cat. unless the cat in question is particulalry aged or youthful#I still have so so little energy... it's been icy here this week. like not even FUN but just scary icy even thoguh i lOOOVE the cold#and its my favorite weather. I think it'd be okay actually if I had a woodburning stove/fireplace/hearth thing. literally thats my only#concern with the power going out. I genuinely don't mind stuff like having to go to the bathroom in buckets or cook over a fire or do other#less conveninet things. Its just that if eveyrhtng is electric then you have no way to cook and all of that. well.. and I literally need#background noise to go to sleep lest my ocd sprials become so loud I am slowly driven into maddness.. but a few battery packs or something#and a phone with one downloaded video I could play on repeat is fine for that. I dont need internet. ANYWAY.. so so sad that my fav#orite season ever (winter) is here. and the first cold of the winter is like... just an ice storm that you cant even walk in. I#love like 4 feet of snow where you can play in it and stuff. But just a thin flat sheet of a few inches of ice over every imaginable surfac#is not really playable. the wind speeds are so high and so many trees fall it's actually not that safe to go hang out outside anyway unless#you were in a totally clear open field. which is SAD also because i love ice and high winds. i love to stand out there and get whipped in t#he face with ice crystals and feel like I'm in some dramatic movie or something. but alas.. the threat of being attacked by a falling tree.#I did go out some but again it's like. literallyyou cant walk on it. so I just squatted and dragged myself along the ground lol#One of my stories has a whole section where the main characters are trapped in a deadly cold environment for a week and have to use magic#to survive and etc. etc. so I'm always like.. ouuu.. I should go in the ice.. it's Writing Research actually.. *foolishly gets frostbite*#THOUGH yesterday I went on a harrowing evil journey down a bunch of icy hilly roads to go check on some person's cat because the cat#had been left in the house for like 5 days at that point with nobody to check on them and nobody else seemed to want to do anything#about it (like call all of the neighbors or try to get someone out there) so I just went myself with a roommate who agreed to drive me.#It seemed acting totally normal and I gave it more food and water but.. I am still worried about it.. Apparently the person will be able#to get back to their house tomorrow but.. I dont trust them. But I couldnt take the cat with me because it's like.. a stranger's cat#basically and also no carrier + very skittish.. so I feared if I just tried to carry them bare handed they'd definitely leap from my grasp#and then it'd be like.. sliding on a sheet of ice chasing a cat and so on.. I still think they need to be watched for health issues tho >:|#ANYWAY.... many cat adventures lately... and strange weather... I wish for a normal week without always so many Things Happening.. augh
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rr is so bad with timelines and ages literally would hazel not be 14 already by the time of son of neptune. am i the crazy one here
#x#pjo posting#her 13th bday was before she died in december n then she came back in. september ? 9 months ago#so that december passed by. which makes her 14#see what i think the problem is here is that they wanted to give nico a sister but also wanted him to be older but then they also forgot ho#fucking YOUNG nico is in the original series#like that boy is BARELY out of being a. 12 year old. by the end of TLO#no wait seriously is he 13 by the end of that book. i can’t remember#POINT IS. rr is terrible with ages im making this shit up n keeping track of it on my own idc#same thing happened in the lost hero where it’s mentioned jason saw a pic of thalia w luke where she looked 15 n i was like thats literally#impossible bc she got turned into a tree when she was TWELVE and then came back as an almost 16yo n by that point literally only saw luke t#kick him off a cliff#so. whatever#hazel is 14 ish frank is newly 16 percy is. soon to be 17? in like two months i think#bc SoN is set in june. or something#tlo trio are all 15 i think. from what i remember. don’t quote me on that#nico is. i guess 14 as well. same age as hazel??? her bday is in december n his im Prettyyy sure is in january#so we’ll say she’s slightly older but he just pretends he’s the older brother anyways
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your first love hits different
#another day another vent-in-the-tags post#i came across a picture of me and my fiest boyfriend of five years today. picture must've been 10 years old at this point#found many more pictures of him and us on my dad's old pc#i can just feel my body pull and heart ache when i look at him in the pictures#wondering what my life would've looked like if i hadn't broken things off between us#we tried to stay friends and a couple of months later we went for a drink. when daying goodbye he moved in to kiss me#i was hesitant and stepped away. he couldn't bare having me in his life while not being together so he cut off all contact#don't get me wrong in any of my thoughts- i love babe whole heartedly and he's the only man for me now and in my future#it's just that nagging feeling burried deep. the 'what if's. what if i felt more confident about my body back then?#what if i hadn't moved on so quickly? what if i had let him kiss me?#i tried texting him telling him i was approved for gbp surgery (i broke things off because i was very insecure about my body)#he congratulated me and sincerely wished me all the happiness in the world but also asked me not to contact him again after this#it's been 7-ish years but every now and then i wonder how he's doing and what he's up to#he doesn't really have social media apart from facebook (and that page is private) and i only stayed in touch with his former best friend#but i'm not gonna ask him because i know they haven't spoken in years either#i've had plenty more relationships after him but i rarely ever think about those guys#am i okay? is this normal? lol#i should get my head out of this rabbit hole asap#add: the picture is almost 15 years old lol. my math ain't mathing. we met in 2009. not that it's important#i think i just moved on too quickly and didn't allow myself time & space to grieve. that's why he keeps popping up in my thoughts now & then
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Wait while I'm here lemme say something that's been on my mind for like 2 weeks at least. So, Yahiko was alive when Obito first came to Ame and talked to Nagato. The canonical ages of Obito and Nagato in shippuden are 31 and 35 respectively. So the ame orphans are all 4 years older than Obito. Considering Yahiko died at 15, the oldest Obito could be when meeting Nagato is..... 11. When did Obito have his death scare and meet Madara before leaving for Ame??? When he was 13. Sooooo... unless I somehow got something wrong, and please correct me if I did, Kishimoto is once again a hack fraud.
#also related. if i remember the math correctly. obi is 15 when he attacked the village with kurama#and not that i think thats incorrect timeline wise. cuz it is right. i just think its REALLY funny that thats a 15yo. he pointed a kunai at#a baby and i couldnt take it seriously anymore years ago when i figured that out#like the concept of the masked man in general is SO funny CUZ THATS A FUCKING TEENAGER LMAOOOO#i think by the time of the massacre hes a young adult tho but im talking about the time period prior to that#LIKE PROPER TIMELINE WISE WHEN OBI MEETS THE ORPHANS HE SHOULD BE LIKE 14 IF HIS BIRTHDAY OCCURED DURING THOSE 6 MONTHS WITH MADA OR WHILE#HE WAS TRAVELLING. SO LIKE. AGAIN. THATS A TEENAGER. AND NOT A PARTICULARLY OLD ONE EITHER MIND YOU#like goddamn just everything about obi even despite all the trauma and horrors is just. so. goofy.#hes a fucking joke to me but like in a good way. hes starting to become like jeje to me where i can only make fun of every little thing#about him. i mean. look at who he was as a kid. how babey he still technically is when he starts doing villain shit#THE FUCKING TOBI THING WHICH I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT. I DONT FUCKING CARE THAT ITS BEEN OVER A DECADE SINCE WE LOST THE TOBI PERSONA.#I DONT CARE. I WILL NEVER BE OVER NOT GETTING ANSWERS ON WHAT THE FUCK HE WAS THINKING DOING THAT SHIT#WHY DID HE FUCKING ACT LIKE THAT???? AND YOU EXPECT ME TO TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY???? WHEN SENPAI IS RIGHT THERE?????#i cant fucking do this. hes a fucking joke (affectionate) i love him so much he breaks my heart. the poor fucking loser#personal
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My cat butted up against my hand and it reminded me of when my childhood cat was starting to go senile and my mom suggested we just have her put down because she doesn't really matter once she's lost it and that she never cared about me besides being a hand that provides food (even though I was the only person in the family she was comfortable around after she'd gone totally feral out of age-induced confusion). My mom never liked that cat, even though she was a really good cat. It's not her fault she got old and couldn't remember shit. To me, that's when she needed the most care. To my mom, she deserved to be locked in the basement for the last two years of her life. And, because my mom seldom let her out and I was both in college and working full time and could only release her for a few hours daily, the basement ended up being where she felt safe, and she would only leave if I picked her up and moved her out. Which is so sad. Imagine treating a dying animal that way.
#but she's also one of those people who gets sick of animals like so fast#it's a wonder she let me keep my dog back when i got her#i probably threatened to kick the shit out of her if she got rid of my dog or something#which i know is like a 'thats something only white people do' kind of statement but no. it's because she's a sack of shit#you couldn't pay me to respect my mom#she could have me at gunpoint saying to respect her and I'd still call her a bad mom#i don't respect authority without reason and i don't respect people with the idea that having kids elevates them to being unable to do wrong#but she'd do the same with my dog when she was a puppy. locked in the basement.#shd built a cage and everything#and she'd stick my brand new like 6week old dog in this cage for 15 hours a day#and she'd hit her and scream at her#like yeah. puppies are difficult dude. they're noisy and the shit on the kitchen floor. it sucks.#and because of how my mom treated my dog when i was younger she was scared of all loud noises for the longest time#it was only after i moved out for the first time (when she was like 4) that it got better#only after my mom was out of the equation was i able to convince her that ceiling fans and bikes and cars weren't the enemy#it's a wonder she's lived this long with how bad i saw my mom slap her sometimes#or she'd just let her outside on her own hoping she'd run away and/or into traffic#and she's had like 25 dogs in the past 20 years too#and you know what happens?#she finds purebred dogs for cheap keeps them until she thinks they're no longer cute then sells them#in the meantime they're caged all day. she will not train them and demands i do because my dog is well trained.#she doesn't feed them so they don't shit in the cage#she doesn't give them water so they don't piss everywhere#every single dog she's ever owned has eaten its own shit because they're starving#they drink their own piss#the last time she got a dog he was 8 months old and didn't know basics like 'sit'#the whole family went on vacation for 2 weeks and i had him housebroken and he knew like 10 commands#they come back and for some reason she just sticks him right back in the cage and he lost it all#i trained him hoping she'd actually keep a dog for once. nope. she literally did not care.#i did the thing she asked because i was annoyed that she left me in charge of an untrained dog and it still wasn't enough
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Im having flashbacks/dreams of last year when my other dogs health started to deteriorate and i was helpless
#deciding to put him down wasnt hard#we knew his quality of life was going to shit and he would just suffer if we didnt#but fuck it was still hard#our other dog is only a year and two months younger then he was#so im hoping she makes it until the end of march#though she isnt as bad off as he was#shes missing an eye and practically blind in the other#but she doesnt have anything else wrong yet#i mean 15 yr is very good for a pekingese#but damn it still hurts#also i think my parents had left for a week last year around the same time they did this year#and thats when my old mans health went to shit#so maybe its just the time of the year thats tainted now#also would it be considered a dream or a nightmare?#arkons thoughts
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pairing: lewis hamilton x Wolff!fem!reader
author’s note: GOD this might be awful but please keep in mind that it’s my first story and english is not my first language :) WILL most probably go through major adjustments.
summary: in which her father, Toto Wolff, has always told her to stay away from the young drivers. He never said anything about the older ones though…
warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, masturbation(f), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, age-gap, praise kink, bit of choking.
Being the daughter of a Formula 1 Team Principal never failed to be exciting.
Always VIP treatment, lots of traveling to beautiful countries, numerous job opportunities and getting to meet famous people. You were always grateful for your privileged life but never took advantage of it in a selfish way, although you enjoyed the things it had to offer from time to time. You always refused being treated differently just because of your status. You just weren’t that type of person. You liked working for the things you desired. Your adventurous side always loved a challenge, and that was also the thing your father admired and feared the most about you.
He always encouraged this side of you, ever since you were a kid. If you wanted to learn how to skate, he’d buy you a skateboard. If you spontaneously wanted to spend the next 3 months away from home in another country, he’d book your flight. One day you showed up at his office to show him your first tattoo. You always said you’d never get a tattoo, you didn’t think it would look good on you. But one day you randomly found yourself in front of a tattoo salon and couldn’t resist the curiosity. Your father was never a big fan of tattoos, but he laughed anyway, called you crazy and snapped a few pictures of the tattoo before sending them to your mom.
Toto didn’t have a lot of rules for you. He always told you “Just don’t get yourself in jail, maybe.”. But the most important and unwritten rule was “never involve yourself with the young drivers.”.
He thought they were immature boys and walking red flags, although he deeply respected them for performing in such a dangerous sport as Formula 1. You, on the other hand were never interested in any of them anyway. You befriended a few of the drivers, sometimes partied with them, but no one really caught your interest. No one besides Lewis Hamilton.
Lewis was your father’s most prized possession in the team. 7 times World Champion (or 8 if you ask me), a genuine person, an expert in what he was doing and the best he could get.
Lewis Hamilton emanated power everywhere he went. He always took his work and image very seriously, always told it as it was and his charming personality never failed to impress everyone in the room. Even the drivers looked up to him, hoping to one day be as great as him. Your first encounter with him was when you were only 15 years old, and to say that you were immediately intimidated by him was an understatement.
The nervousness you constantly felt when you were around him was originally a reaction to all the things you heard about the driver. But as time passed, you found yourself intimidated for others reasons. Maybe it was because you were a teenager and your hormones were going crazy, or because of all the books and fanfiction you used to read at that time, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him anymore. Everything about him drew you in. His tall and muscular body, his numerous tattoos that gave him a dangerous and playboy vibe, his soothing but rough voice adorned with the most beautiful british accent, his braided hair and smooth skin… That man was basically sex on legs. One of God’s finest pieces.
He instantly took a very protective role in your life. To him, you were basically a child, especially due to the big age-gap between you. But you were also his boss’s daughter so he naturally felt the need to protect you.
Now, at 23, you managed to keep a close friendship with the driver. He was always there if you needed advice for something, always there to rant to about your crazy life and always there for a good time. You spent a lot of vacations with him and his friends. Went to a lot of road trips, skateboard dates, dinner or breakfast dates, countless movie nights, sometimes just the two of you. And although your crush on him never went away, in fact the adoration and attraction only deepened, he not once tried anything with you. He always kept things friendly between you two, decent.
And it frustrated the shit out of you. Sometimes you would catch him staring at you, or even touching you for a minute longer, but never more than that. And you slowly began losing hope that one day he’d see you as more than a friend and his boss’s daughter.
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It’s Friday night. Since you didn’t have any plans for today and were bored out of your mind, you decided to call Lewis to ask if he would go out with you tonight. He apologized and told you that he wasn’t really feeling like doing anything crazy tonight, but insisted that you could come over and spend time together, maybe watch a movie or something. You accepted immediately.
So here you were now, 1AM in his living room, with your head on his lap and eyes closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep really, but your fucked up sleep schedule was beginning to take a toll on you, making you doze off at very random times. Plus, the way his hand was mindlessly running through your hair felt too good.
You slowly open your eyes when you feel Roscoe licking at your hand. With a groan, you try to sit up and take in everything that’s going on. How long have you been asleep for? “Suits” is still playing on the TV, the room is almost dark except for the light of the television, Roscoe is sitting by the couch, looking back at you with his tongue hanging out, and Lewis is on his phone, probably reading through his emails.
“Thought you’d never wake up.” He chuckled, locking his phone and throwing it on the couch.
“I’m so sorry, Lewis.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands in hope of getting rid of the sleepiness and the headache you just woke up with. “I didn’t mean to, lately I’ve been having trouble with sleep. Maybe it’s because of school, I don’t know. My schedule doesn’t really allow me a healthy bed time anymore.”
He looks worried as he reaches out to you, shaking your arm a little.
“You can sleep here if you want. It’s late, you’re obviously very tired. I don’t want you driving back home in this state.” He proposes.
“Yeah? I can?” You chuckle, placing your hand on his. Your stomach flutters when you feel his soft, warm skin.
He looks rather angelic in the low light. His eyes are shiny but tired, his lips look soft and juicy, and his body is comfortably spread on the sofa.
“You know you can, bunny.”
Bunny. He loves to call you that. Ever since you were a teenager, he’d always call you that. You found it cute.
“Okay, then. Can I borrow some clothes, though? These jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world to be honest.” You say, getting up from the couch.
“Yeah, sure.”
You follow him to the guest room. The bed looks cozier than ever, and you quickly find yourself hopping into it, groaning at the feeling of the comfortable and soft mattress. Lewis laughs and leaves you for a moment, but comes back a few seconds later, throwing some clothes on the bed beside you.
“Got you a shirt and some pants. But I’m not sure the pants are gonna fit though. You’re… a lot smaller than me for sure.” He spoke, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry.”
“No, Lewis. It’s all good.” You giggle, waving your arm lazily. “Thank you.”
You take a moment to look at him again. He has a soft smile on his face and his body is leaning against the door frame, the dim light in the room accentuating the muscles in his arms. He looked huge. And delicious.
Jesus.
“Good night.” He gently whispered. You say it back and then he finally leaves the room, leaving you all alone. And frustrated.
With a deep sigh, you grab the clothes he gave you and inspect them a little. A simple tie dye t-shirt(he loves these), and a pair of shorts, probably the smalest he had in his wardrobe. And they still looked big. Making a decision, you throw the pants on a chair and only keep the t-shirt, then start to change out of your clothes.
Once that was done, you floop back on the bed and check your phone real quick, before turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over your body.
————————————————————————-
You woke up sweaty. With a groan, you quickly pull the covers off your hot body to try and get some air. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the massive headache you just woke up with already makes you irritated.
Stretching your body a little, you reach for the phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time. 4AM.
“God dammit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your face with your palm.
You could feel the faint smell of Lewis’s cologne on the t-shirt he gave you. Le Labo’s Rose 31, his favorite. Biting your lip, you bring the material to your nose and inhale the scent. A moan almost escaped you. You could basically feel him, it was like he was in the room with you again. And that definitely didn’t help your current state.
You start wondering what he might be doing right now. He’s probably sound asleep, spread on his king sized bed with nothing but his boxers on, quietly snoring, like he always does. You wish you were there to see him. Admire him. Touch his skin.
Subconsciously, you let your hand travel down your chest and under the shirt, touching at your hot skin. A shiver hits you, and you curiously start to feel around your stomach with your fingers. With eyes closed, you imagine Lewis touching you like that.
It wasn’t unusual for you to think about him like that. But in your defense, you just couldn’t help it. Everything about him felt masculine. His energy, his body, his voice, his gestures. He was basically the man you always dreamed of having, even for one night. You always wondered what he would be like in bed.
Maybe he’d whisper softly in your ear, call you “sweetheart”, take his time on making you feel good, praising you for how good you are for him. How good you take him. Or maybe, he’d manhandle you, make you do whatever he asks, put you in any position he wants while choking you with his big arms and mockingly slapping your face, degrading you for being such a whore, as his cock would slide in and out of you at an abusive pace, making your juices drip out of you with every deep, harsh thrust.
You don’t even remember the exact moment your fingers started rubbing your clit through your panties. You were definitely soaked, the wetness making a faint noise everytime your middle finger would flick at your pussy down to your enterance. A needy whimper escapes you. You needed more.
With the other hand, you quickly grab at your boobs, softly massaging them one by one and pulling on your sensitive nipples. It was all too much but still not enough. The material of your panties was drenched at this point, so you quickly moved them aside.
Circling your awaiting hole a few times, you insert a finger inside slowly.
“Mm, fuck.” You moan, hiding your face into the pillow so you could hopefully hide the sounds you were making.
You imagined Lewis doing this to you. Sitting between your thighs so he can have a clear image of your creamy pussy as he is pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’d have his mouth on you from time to time, sucking your clit harshly and moving his tongue from one hole to the other. His deep brown eyes would never leave your figure, trying to take in every single inch of you and memorize it, so he can always remember how desperate and ruined he makes you.
“Such a pretty pussy. U’re doing so good for me.” He’d praise.
The squelching sound of your cunt momentarily takes you off the trance. Your hand is wet and you’re working one more finger inside of you now, as your other hand desperately rubs at your sensitive button. You can’t believe you’re doing this in Lewis’s house, especially when his room is so close to yours, but you shamelessly don’t care enough about that right now, not when you’re so close to your orgasm.
“Mphh, Lewis…” You cry out, eyes shut.
As your back arches off the mattress, you start scissoring the fingers inside your pussy faster. You gasp for air as your legs begin to shake violently, your swollen clit throbbing uncontrollably. You moan louder than expected as you come all over your fingers, and the thought of Lewis hearing your needy sounds almost excites you more.
After a few moments, you remove the fingers from your pussy. You needed a shower so bad, maybe it would wash away the shame you were feeling at the pit of your stomach. Were you too loud? Did he hear how pathetic you’ve been, just from his scent and a few scenarios of him fucking you with his mouth and fingers?
Sitting up, you scrunch your face in disgust at the feeling of your drenched and cold underwear. You curse in your head for not taking them off early on. What the fuck were you supposed to wear now?
Deciding to swallow your shame, you finally get up from the bed to make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing your hands twice with the expensive soap bar, you look into the mirror to see just how messy you really were. Your cheeks were flushed, your mascara was smudged, skin was glowy with sweat and your hair looked like a bird nest. Basically, it was as if you had just taken part in a gangbang.
With a sigh, you take off your panties and run them through the water, trying to wash away the sin you had just committed. Getting lost in thoughts, your stomach almost startles you as it begins to growl loudly. The little amount of energy you had left and now you felt hungry, and incredibly thirsty. Balancing your options, you wonder if you should leave the room to go get something to eat from the kitchen. Your panties were still wet and you couldn’t imagine wearing them now, but you knew you’d never be able to fall asleep again if your stomach constantly demanded food. Plus, drinking tap water was never an option.
“Fuck.”
Slipping your underwear back on, you inspect yourself in the mirror a little and pull on Lewis’s t-shirt, making sure that it covers enough, just in case.
The whole penthouse is silent as you walk to the kitchen. A few lights are still on, but that’s just how Lewis prefers it. You assume Roscoe is in his room fast asleep as well, because you don’t run into him on your way. Opening the fridge, you immediately grab a bottle of water and place it on the counter, before scanning for some food. The indian takeout boxes were really calling your name right now, so you grabbed two of them before closing the door with your foot.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
You almost drop the boxes from your hands when you hear his voice. Turning around, you find him staring at you, with a little smirk on his face.
“You almost shit your pants, bunny. Did I scare you?” He laughs, approaching you.
“Jesus, Hamilton. Almost gave me a heart attack, could’ve died right here on your kitchen floor.” You exhaled, dropping the boxes on the table and placing a hand on your chest, trying to see if your heart was still beating.
“I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.” He chuckles and briefly massages your shoulders, before pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. After he takes a few sips, he speaks again. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You bite back, drinking from your own water, almost gulping down the whole thing.
The thought of what you just did a few moments ago creeps into your head again, and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you. What if he heard? You get self conscious remembering that you’re only wearing his shirt and your destroyed pair of panties that were still wet and uncomfortable, so you pull on the hem to hopefully try and cover yourself as much as possible.
His top lip twitches for a second, then he smiles and shrugs. “Was thirsty.”
He looked absolutely delicious now, with nothing on but a pair of grey shorts and his braids down. His abs were shining underneath the dim lights, and all you wanted right now really was to drop down on your knees and lick them. You couldn’t look further down though, you feared you might pass out if you saw the imprint of his dick in his pants.
You had the opportunity to take a peek, though. Multiple times. Especially on race weekends, when he would just grab his dick in his hand and struggle to readjust himself through the racing suit before hopping in the car. You knew he was big. You fantasized about how he would feel on your tongue, heavy and large. About how he would fuck your throat rough, making you choke on his cock. About how he would hardly be able to slide into your tight, warm pussy, but when he would finally make it, he’d rip you apart with it until you were left a crying, overstimulated mess.
“Why are you so red, bunny? Are you ill?” He asks, furrowing his brows.
When you finally snap out of your filthy thoughts, he’s already in front of you, checking your temperature with the back of his hand, looking concerned.
“N-no.” You almost sound unsure, your voice cracking a little.
“No?” He shakes his head, cupping your flushed cheeks in his hands.
You couldn’t make eye contact with him, even though you knew he was intently watching you. He was so close that there was almost no space to breathe anymore, and you couldn’t take it, so you hesitantly backed off.
A cheeky smirk was plastered on his face though, and he quickly looked you up and down before grabbing a fork and digging into the food left on the table. You just stood there, petrified. No thoughts behind your eyes.
“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He spoke again.
Well, the hunger disappeared, that’s for sure.
You shake your head then clear your throat. “Not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”
“Hm.”
He doesn’t say anything after that, so you grab the bottle of water and make your way past him, whispering a “good night” softly. After a few seconds, he speaks again.
“Maybe this time you’ll be able to get some sleep instead of moaning my name while you’re touching yourself.”
Your stomach drops. Maybe you’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve gone crazy. But there’s no way this was happening right now. This can’t be real.
You’re stuck in your place for a few moments, calculating your possibilities of escape. Throwing yourself out the window sounds like a good idea now. But you feel cornered, and you can’t think of what to do or say. You were doomed, for sure. But you choose to play dumb instead, so you anxiously turn to him and speak.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been asleep the whole time.”
He says nothing, and that worries you even more.
Then he throws the fork in the sink and finally faces you. He lifts his eyebrows and leans on the counter, with his arms folded to his chest.
“No, you weren’t.” He spoke. “Come here.” He gestures with his hand.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decide to listen to him and get closer.
“Please don’t tell dad.” You beg. There was no point in denying anymore. He knew.
He chuckles then, and furrows his brows, looking at you funny. God, you just wish all this would be over already. It felt humiliating.
“You think I’d tell Toto about how his daughter is pleasuring herself to the thought of me?”
His words come out as a whisper as he carefully moves a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I don’t know…”
“What were you thinking about?”
You finally get the courage to look into his eyes then. You’re not sure you heard him right.
“What?”
“I think you heard me just right, princess. What were you thinking about when you had these pretty fingers deep inside your pussy?” He asks, lifting your hand and pressing a few kisses to your fingers.
A whine almost escapes your mouth while you’re watching it happen. You’ve never heard Lewis talk like that, especially towards you, and it both sexually frustrated you as well as made you impossibly shy. A deep shade of red is present on your face and you seriously don’t know if you should just risk it all and tell him about your little fantasies or act dumb about it.
“Y/n”
You snap out of it. “I-I don’t know what to say, Lewis. This is so humiliating.” You sigh deeply, covering your face with your hands.
“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, pulling you into his arms. He smelled so good, and his skin felt hot pressed against yours, even with the t-shirt you were wearing as a barrier. “No need for that, bunny. It’s just me.” His words come out as a whisper as he is moving his hand up and down your back. “…Just us.”
Lifting your head slowly, you look into his eyes and bite your lip. This was all you ever wanted. For him to want you back. And now that he finally hinted that he might be into you in that way, had you at a loss of words and action.
Fuck it, you thought. It’s been too long. Too much time spent on secretive glances, crushing, overthinking, masturbating to the thought of him. Maybe you could finally get something out if it.
“I was thinking of you… Touching me.”
“Good girl. How was I touching you, hm?” The praise goes straight to your core as his head falls to your neck to press a few wet kisses, and you swore you could die right there on the spot. His hands squeeze your waist a little before traveling down to your ass, massaging patiently, waiting for you to respond to his question.
You moan at the action, getting lost in the feeling of him touching you like that. In a second, he lifts you up by your thighs and you unconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. He sits you on the counter then positions himself between your bare legs. His warm hands touch the insides of your thighs, making your breath hitch. You still can’t believe this is happening.
“You look so good in my clothes…” He mumbles, lifting one of his hands to your shirt and squeezing your skin a little. When he reaches your breasts, he squeezes harder.
“Mm… Lewis…” You whine pathetically, waiting for more.
“That’s what you were moaning a few minutes ago, baby?”
You look up to find him staring at you intently with his teeth pulling at his lower lip. His eyes were darker, full of lust. You enjoy having him like this, you realized. A man, the man you dreamed about, about to pleasure you.
“Yes.” You confess sincerely, batting your eyelashes at him.
“You’re such a naughty girl…” He whispers, touching your soft cheek with his finger.
His other hand starts wondering further underneath your shirt, and you find yourself opening your legs wider, waiting desperately for his touch. You can feel one of his fingers pressing against your clit only a few seconds later, and you can’t help but moan already. He rubs tight, circular circles on your sensitive button and groans, pushing your body back. You lean back and let him lift your legs on the counter.
“Shit, bunny. You look so delicious right now."
He reaches the band of your underwear and pulls on it urgently, leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you'd get self conscious everytime a man saw you naked, but for some reason that wasn't the case now. The desire to have Lewis eat you out was much bigger than any insecurity you may have. You grow impatient already just thinking about it and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He notices.
“I’m going to eat this pretty pussy.”
“Please.” You say immediately, eager to feel his tongue on your most sensitive spot.
He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and gets on his knees, holding onto your shaky legs. You played this scenario in your head over and over again so many times, and you craved to see it finally happen. You really need to see him.
Standing up a little, you think you might just pass out. There he was, propped between your legs, licking a fat stripe of your pussy. He makes eye contact then and moans, connecting his lips to your puffy clit and sucking, hard.
Your body twitches on instinct and you whimper, pushing your needy pussy into his face. He moans and starts licking up and down your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you from time to time.
“Yes… Just like that.” You manage to say.
He’s hungrily lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten in days, collecting all your sweet essence with his eager mouth. You can’t help but yelp a little when you feel two of his thick, long fingers pushing inside your tight pussy. It stings a little, but he doesn’t let you adjust, instead he pushes them deeper and curls them, making your eyes roll and your jaw drop.
“Oh my god." You gasp, arching your back so hard that you think it might break in half. His mouth is still attached to your sensitive clit, pressing torturous licks on it.
He pulls away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers push in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were glued to your pussy, like he was hypnotized by the sight. And he was. Suddenly, his eyes snap to yours and you think you’d never seen something hotter in your entire life.
“Look at you, baby… Hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making for me? You’re so fucking wet.” He humms and gives your puffy clit a sharp slap, fucking his fingers faster inside you.
You scream his name, like you always dreamed of doing. You’re desperately trying to hump his hand to get more, already feeling the familiar tightness in your lower stomach building rapidly. He doesn’t like that, so he quickly pushes your hips down with his free hand, keeping you in place. You don’t get to protest, because then he curls his fingers right on your g-spot, having your body tense immediately. You’re almost breathless and trashing your tiny body on his counter, and when he gets his hand on you and starts to flick your clit with rapid movements, you know you’re done for.
“That’s it. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”
You don’t hear anything for a few seconds after that. Your ears are tingling, your toes are curling and your whole body is shaking violently. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers.
While you’re busy trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t stop. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, a bit slower now, and he reattached his mouth to your pussy, licking it slowly.
Feeling overstimulated, you immediately jerk away from his touch, twitching uncontrollably.
“N-no… too much!” You whimper, pushing his head back.
“Mm.” He slowly removes his fingers, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. He’s chasing a trail of cum that your pussy is pushing out with his tongue and moans. “Such a sweet pussy. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He praises.
You don’t say anything. Mostly because you can’t. Your whole body feels like jelly, still shaky from the powerful orgasm you just had. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. No, he gets up and grabs your chin forcefully, smashing your lips together. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes your head spin and your pussy leak. Again.
When he finally pulls away, he takes a moment to look at your fucked out expression and humms, licking his lip.
“Was it good, bunny?” A smirk creeps out on his face.
“Yes…” You reply, the shyness taking place in you again as you batt your eyelashes at him.
“Good…” He whispers softly, tugging slowly on your bottom lip. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
God, the things this man makes you feel. He just fucked you stupid with his mouth and fingers and now he wants to fuck your pussy? It had to be a dream.
You want to take advantage of this moment for as long as you can.
“Fuck me, Lewis. I want it.”
The way you just look up at him so innocently but so seductive at the same time, with lips swollen, slightly messy hair and smudged mascara, makes his dick twitch. It isn’t the first time he’s rock hard for you though. No. You never knew this, but he had his eyes on you too. For the past few months, at race weekend, everytime he’d see you, you’d have him losing his mind. Walking around in short skirts and crop tops, or those lovely sundresses you adore so much. It made his dick throb, and he had to make up some excuses a few times just to run back to his driver’s room and touch himself. But he wasn’t only attracted to you because of those things. Your energy captivated him completely, and he knew he wasn’t the only one dreaming about having you. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid. He saw the way the other younger drivers or random people in the pit crew looked at you. How they smiled at you or tried to make you laugh, subtly touching you. It made him feral.
Toto was his boss. They go way back. Lewis admired your father, in many ways, and the bond they formed through working together was tight, for sure. He knew about the stupid rule he had for you, about dating or messing around with the drivers, and he respected that. Up until recently, when he started looking at you in a different light, and the rule suddenly frustrated him deeply. He never had a problem staying away from you. The need to protect you was the only thing on his mind. Then he started to finally see you.
How smart you were, how much joy you bring when you walk into a room. How everyone stops to look or listen to you when you talk. How adventurous you are and openly emotional without a care about what other people might think of you. The way you’re always there for people, the warmth you possess. Your unintentional seductiveness. Your charm.
Now, he had you exactly where he wanted. He wasn’t sure at first if he should tell you that he heard your sweet sounds when you masturbated to the thought of him, but he became desperate. All he needed was confirmation that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you. And he got it. He wasn’t gonna let you slip away this time. And he was done thinking about how complicated the situation is with your father.
Grabbing at your hand, he helps you get off the counter. You look at him confused, scared that he might realize that everything was a mistake and he’d changed his mind. But the thought quickly vanishes when he starts kissing your neck and nipping at your skin, lifting your shirt with his hands.
“I’m not gonna fuck you in a kitchen. My sweet baby deserves a bed, no?” His raspy voice sends goosebumps on your skin and you nod, letting him walk you backwards to his room, as he finally manages to get rid of the only material left on your body.
When you get to his room, he carefully pushes you on the bed, with him on top. The cold air in the room hits your sensitive flesh and makes your nipples harden. Licking your lips, you raise your head from the soft pillow to look at him. His gaze is darkened and his bottom lip sits between his teeth, pulling at it desperately, like he was trying so hard to keep his control. You wanted him to lose it. All of it.
“Please, Lewis… Fuck me. Wanted this for so long.” A whine escapes your lips and you pout, caging his body between your legs as your legs wrap tightly around his torso.
Your confession made him groan. He wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever. How needy you are begging for him to fuck you, how pretty you looked all spread out on his bed, with your hair tousled on his pillow, your lips puffy from his kisses and your eyes glossy and dazed.
Finally, he gets rid of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them off along with his boxers. You're left speechless as you shamelessly stare at his very erect cock. It's thick and you can spot a few angry veins almost popping, running up towards the head. It's standing proud and tall glued to his pelvis, almost reaching his belly button, and it has your mouth water.
He notices how you stare at him with your cheeks flushed and your lip between your teeth and smirks, tapping your thigh a few times to get your attention.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"It's so big..."
"Yeah? Never had a real man before, princess?" He asks, raising your leg to his shoulder and pressing soft kisses on your soft skin while maintaining eye contact with you.
You shake your head timidly.
"Gonna make you feel so good. You trust me?"
"Yes." You respond immediately, squirming under him.
"Just hold on for a sec. I gotta have some condoms in here." He lets go of your leg and leans towards his nightstand to search for the condoms.
"W-wait." You stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. You were anxious when your next words left your lips. "I... I'm clean, and on birth control, so if you want, there's no need for that."
He turned his head to look at you and stopped in his tracks.
"Want me to fuck you bare, bunny?" He reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, with a grin on his face.
"Mhm." You mumbled, nodding your head. "If that's okay with you, of course!" You rushed the words out.
"I'm more than okay with that." He hummed, caressing your hip with his thumb. "Come 'ere."
He pulled you lower on the bed and leaned forward, gripping your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours. He kisses you slow at first, taking his time to taste you. Then, as his hands start to explore your naked body, it turns wild. You feel dizzy as you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer and your hot bodies stick to each other. It feels so intimate, you've never experienced something like this with someone before. His erection is standing right between your legs and it makes you raise your hips eagerly. You want him inside already.
"So eager." He whispers and smirks, pulling away a bit.
You glance down and lick your lips as he lines himself up, watching him tap your clit a few times with his cock, then pushing his head through your sensitive folds to collect all your juices. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and you whimper, spreading yourself a bit more. When he finally slides in, it's so overwhelming that you let your mouth hang open with a loud moan. The stretch is stinging a lot, but there's another sensation that comes with it that makes it so pleasurable at the same time.
Lewis watches you carefully and stills his movements, to let you adjust to his size. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to relax as much as you can to accomodate your thight walls around him. Once you feel the pain diminuate a bit you nod your head, letting him know that he can move further.
He slips in a little more then and lets himself moan at the heavenly feeling of your bare, tight pussy squeezing him tightly.
"Doing sooo good, baby. Taking me like a pro." He praises, moving your damp hair out of your face.
He bottoms out inside you and you whimper. He's so deep that you could swear you felt it in your stomach, but you want more.
As if he could read your mind, he slowly pulls out a bit then pushes himself inside again, making you let out tiny mewls and moans as you got to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Lewis humms and buries his face in your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses all over it before going down to your breasts and taking one of them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around your hard, sensitive nipple. He starts to thrust his hips in a steady rhythm while taking your other breast in his mouth and all you can do is arch your back and whine, overwhelmed by the intense feeling.
"So fucking tight." He hissed, leaning back to grab your thighs and lift them on his shoulders, the new position allowing him to hit your spot better. You felt so full of him, and you were ready to cry from the pleasure.
"Lewis." You let out a loud moan and touch his abs, scratching them as he suddenly surprises you with a rougher pace that makes you roll your eyes back and let out a cry.
“Shit.” He curses, groaning when he feels your pussy clench around his fat cock. “Thought about fucking this pretty pussy every single day lately. And now look at you, all fucked out on my bed.”
His words make your head spin. You had no idea he thought about this just like you did, so many times.
“Y-you thought about me?” You manage to ask between moans, looking down for a second to catch a glimpse of his dick sliding in and out of you at a fast pace.
He went in for a messy kiss then pulled back a little, looking at you with half closed eyes. “You have no idea.” He mutters, grabbing your neck softly.
The sounds in the room are intoxicating. It’s filled with heavy breaths, moans, skin slapping repeatedly and the filthy sound of your impossibly wet pussy getting filled to the brim by Lewis. Your gaze is locked with his and it feels like there’s just the two of you left in this world. Nothing matters anymore. Not your dad, not your age gap, nothing. It’s so intense and intimate that it almost has your heart burst out of your chest.
Your thighs are trembling as he folds them to your chest, and your hands are frantically searching for something to grip onto, while incoherent sounds are dripping off your lips.
“You wanna cum, princess?” He asks, smirking down at you.
“Yes! Yes, please please don’t stop.” You beg, shaking your head as short screams leave your mouth.
He’s quick to drag a hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing your clit harshly with his thumb to force your release. The added pleasure makes you pulsate rapidly around his cock and you find yourself arching your back off the mattress again, struggling to breathe as your orgasm is nearing quickly.
“Come on, want you to make a mess on this cock, baby. Can you do that for me?”
You nod your head pathetically and yelp when he pinches your swollen clit, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. It hits you so quickly and so violently that it makes your breath get stuck and your eyes squeeze shut while your legs are uncontrollably shaking. Your juices are dripping down Lewis’s cock and onto the mattress underneath you, and it’s a sight to die for as he watches it all happen.
“Good girl. Did so good f’ me.” He coos, but doesn’t stop the movements of his hips, although he slows down a bit to let you come down from your orgasm.
When you open your eyes to look at him, you find him already looking at you, with an enamored expression on his face. His hand is softly caressing your thigh while he is admiring the post-orgasmic glow of your skin.
Soon enough, he is picking up his pace again and you whine in discomfort and overstimulation, furrowing your brows.
“Can’t. Please. Can’t.” You squirm underneath him.
“You can, baby. Come on, just a little bit more.”
Using his arms, he spreads your legs wider so he can have more access to you. His thrusts quicken again and his fingers attaches themselves to your clit again, pressing into it in circular motions. You were squeezing him so tightly that he could barely move inside you but he pulled through, ramming his hips into yours with brutal force, trying to chase his own release.
“Oh.” You gasped and glued your eyes down to where your cunt was greedily sucking him in. Your milky essence is visible at the base of his cock and the sight is downright filthy.
“Fuck.” He grunts, also watching where you two are connected before he lunges towards you and grips your neck more tightly and yanks you forward a bit. You prop up on your elbows and look at him with wide, doe eyes, moaning uncontrollably. “Where do you want it, bunny?”
“Inside!” You respond immediately, placing one of your hands around his wrist. “Want you to come inside me. Please.”
Your eagerness to take his cum inside your tiny walls makes him shiver with enthusiasm. His tip hits your g-spot with every powerful snap of his hips and it made you part your lips in bliss. Lewis takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you messily. You suddenly start to feel a different kind of pressure at the pits of your stomach and you wince, pulling back from the kiss.
“Lewis… I think there’s something wrong. Feels different.” You slurred, your eyes widening in fear.
“It’s alright, baby. I’m here. Give me one more, yeah?” He grunted, flicking at your clit with his palm rapidly.
The bed is moving with the rhythm of his aggressive thrusts and you feel your muscles contract and twitch with every move. You’re fluttering around him desperately as you scratch down his back with your polished nails and he moans deeply.
“Fuck. Gonna stuff this cunt. Come on, come for me. again, baby.” You know he is close by how much you can feel him throb inside of you.
With a particularly sharp thrust your orgasm washes over you, and you scream, letting your back fall on the mattress as you squirted, your juices making a mess on both you and Lewis. The sight makes him burst instantly and he groans, throwing his head back while he stills inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.
You’ve never done this before. I mean, you definitely heard of squirting, but no one was ever able to get you to this stage. You quickly become self conscious. What if he didn’t like it? What if he found you disgusting now? Terrified, you look up to him only to find out how wrong you were. He is already looking your way, with a huge smirk on his face.
“Look at that. My girl squirted all over the place.”
You blush deeply at his words and cover your face with your hands, but he is quick to grab them and pin them to the bed around your head.
“Why are you hiding? What’s wrong?” He chuckled, amused by the childish action.
“I… I’ve never done that before.”
“Did it feel good though?” He asked with a smug grin.
“Mhm…” You bite your lip and writhe slightly, making him moan at the sudden movement.
He carefully pulls out of you and leans back on his heels, only to see both of your releases slowly drip out of your cunt. He humms and brings two fingers there to massage around your hole, and then he pushes them inside, fucking the cum back into you.
You whine and he stops, looking back at you.
“Wait here for a second, hm? I’m going to draw you a bath.”
You nod and thank him quietly, watching him lovestruck as he gets up from the bed, collects his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then disappears to the bathroom.
Few minutes later you’re both in the tub, your back is pressed against his chest and your eyes are closed in relaxation while he is lazily running his hand through your hair.
Even though the silence is comfortable, you can’t help but start to overthink. What was he thinking about? You didn’t necessarily think he regretted what you did, but what did it mean? Was he going to ghost you after that? Act like nothing ever happened? You wouldn’t judge him, especially considering the situation with your father, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be the case. Part of you was convinced that he wouldn’t just leave you in the dark like that. That wasn’t Lewis. Could never be Lewis. But your insecurities are still eating you alive.
Then he takes you by surprise again by reading your mind. “What are you thinking about?”
“I was actually wondering what were you thinking about.” You chuckle, leaning your head back a bit to look at him. God, how can this man be so beautiful?
He smiles softly and nuzzles his nose along your cheek, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to it.
You let out a breath and sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. “I was just asking myself… what now, I guess.” You shrugged, with a heavy heart.
He furrows his brows and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What do you want?”
You gulped and licked your lips, looking at him through your lashes. “I want you.”
“Then you have me. And you know I want you too. But it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart drop on the spot, afraid of what he might be insinuating.
Noticing the broken look in your eyes, he quickly places his hands on both your cheeks and leans forward. “What I mean by that is, that we should be careful. I know keeping things a secret isn’t healthy, but giving the circumstances, I don’t think it would benefit either of us right now if someone found out about what we have going on. I promise that it won’t last forever, I would never keep you a secret, but for now that’s just the way things are.”
You take in his words. You know he is right. And you’ll take anything as long as it means that he’ll be finally yours. Even though the thought of keeping a secret like that, especially from your dad, makes you feel uneasy. But you’re so ready to give it a shot, just for him. What if everything turns out alright in the end?
“I know. And I understand.” You nodded, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss.
When you pull back, he gives you a quick wink and a smile, tapping the inside of your thigh lightly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton imagine#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#lh44#lh44 x reader
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movie goers
pairing: jungkook x fem reader
synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.
genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)
wc: ~16.4k
cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!
—
if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.
so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.
you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.
three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.
finally, someone was moving in.
some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.
unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.
“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.
you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).
except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.
as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.
“hey, neighbor.”
you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.
the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.
“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.
what’s done is done.
you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.
but fuck, he’s hot.
—
305 was not quiet.
you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.
you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.
you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.
you love him.
you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?
back to the situation at hand.
you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.
another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.
“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.
god, you missed her.
you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.
again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.
realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“
“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.
his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.
“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”
you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.
“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.
little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.
“don’t know.” he shrugs.
“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.
he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.
“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”
“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.
he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.
—
“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.
“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.
“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.
“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.
jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”
jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.
not jungkook though, so he thinks.
“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.
jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.
weird.
what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.
so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.
but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.
alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.
—
jungkook was going to murder you.
not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.
fuckin’ hell.
it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.
“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.
you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.
“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”
he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.
“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.
“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”
“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.
you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”
you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”
jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.
should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.
—
the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.
honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.
your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.
you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.
weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.
though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.
that’s fine.
you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.
the feeling was mutual.
“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.
“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”
“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.
he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.
“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”
you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.
people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.
one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.
“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”
he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.
“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.
“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”
you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.
“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.
“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.
knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.
another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.
jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.
he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.
yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.
shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.
—
people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.
that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.
the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.
regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.
score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.
you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—
“ahem.”
you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.
“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.
even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.
no fucking way.
“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.
jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.
“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.
the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.
“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.
yeah, cause you had bought k12.
“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”
jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.
“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.
“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.
the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.
you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.
well, two can play that game.
“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.
she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”
“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”
truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.
you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.
he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.
“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.
“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”
you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.
the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.
you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.
when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.
“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.
you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”
“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.
why would he?
“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”
nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”
unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.
“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.
“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.
she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.
—
you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.
nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.
clean slate.
“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.
“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.
“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.
“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”
“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.
“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”
you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.
“look, i’ll apologize—“
“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.
there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.
—
the talk never happened.
because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.
today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.
it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.
highest of highs, lowest of lows.
it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.
you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.
you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.
when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.
little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …
you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.
“uh, 307?”
“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.
he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.
ah, shit. he feels even worse.
“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.
you scoff and look away.
“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”
“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.
“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”
“shut the fuck up.”
he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.
“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.
“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.
“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.
“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.
you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.
“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”
it was the first time you laughed all day.
—
things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.
on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.
oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.
“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.
so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.
‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’
to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.
‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’
needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.
so yeah, things have been good.
tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.
you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”
you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.
you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.
“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”
“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.
“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.
“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.
“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.
anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.
“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.
jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.
“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”
“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”
they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.
a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.
“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.
there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.
—
jungkook feels sick.
he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.
the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.
jungkook has a bad feeling about him.
jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.
the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.
well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.
he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.
“you good?” jinah whispers.
“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.
she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.
shit.
why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?
he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.
—
you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.
you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.
“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.
“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.
“what do you do for work?”
“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.
“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.
“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”
“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.
“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.
“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”
“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.
“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.
“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.
“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.
you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.
“they’re amazing, jungkook.”
his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.
“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.
“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.
“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.
“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”
—
you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.
he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.
men.
you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.
“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.
“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.
all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …
you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.
“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.
he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.
“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.
“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”
“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.
he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.
“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”
you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.
jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.
“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.
his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”
you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.
you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.
he really was perfection.
little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.
did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.
“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.
you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.
“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.
“are you cheating on me?”
“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.
realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”
he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.
when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.
“well?”
“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.
“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.
you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”
“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”
“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.
don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.
his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.
“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.
you sniffle into his chest, “why?”
he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”
his girl.
“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.
“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?
fuck it.
“i don’t know. people who love each other?”
he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.
“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“
“do you even like me?”
“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.
“do you love me?”
he’s silent.
“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.
“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.
“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”
—
the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.
you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.
you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.
guess old habits die hard.
you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.
… and no jungkook.
you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.
honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.
jungkook didn’t deserve that.
the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.
breaks meant for a reset.
he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.
you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.
he eventually obliged.
thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.
“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.
dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.
“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.
you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.
“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.
“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”
“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.
so, it was your fault?
“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”
the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.
so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.
love is patient, love is kind.
you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?
maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.
“goodbye, dohwan.”
—
jungkook hates overly loud sex.
it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.
win-win.
sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.
it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.
fuckin’ gorilla.
jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.
you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.
he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.
just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.
jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.
—
‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’
you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.
he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.
you slowly let him back in.
he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.
yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.
you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.
“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.
you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”
“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”
“hm.”
“what?” he presses.
“nothing.”
“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.
“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”
jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.
“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.
you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.
which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?
was he just like you?
his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”
you sigh.
“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”
jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.
he ruffles your hair.
“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”
—
jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.
aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.
he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.
you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.
you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.
that just might be his demise.
even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.
like dog, like owner.
“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
bam whines and follows you to the door.
“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.
“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.
“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.
“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.
“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”
bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.
jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.
you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”
he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.
“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”
“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”
you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.
so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.
—
you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.
it’s not always about being in isolation though.
it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.
with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.
wrong person, wrong time.
because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.
jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.
yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?
right person, wrong time, you suppose.
bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.
doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.
“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.
“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.
he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”
he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”
your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.
“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.
“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.
he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.
“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.
“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”
before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.
—
jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.
“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.
“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.
he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.
“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”
“i don’t get—wait, what?”
“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”
has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.
“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”
and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.
it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.
jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.
—
home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.
bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.
“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.
“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”
he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.
“bad.”
“oh? wanna talk about it?”
“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.
“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.
“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.
“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.
when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.
“sorry—“
“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.
“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.
“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”
“good, as she should.”
jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”
you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.
“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.
“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.
“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.
“just hear me out, okay?”
you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.
“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”
you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.
you owe him the truth at least.
“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”
jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.
“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“
you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.
“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”
he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.
“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”
“huh? no, you’re—“
“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”
he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.
right person, wrong time.
“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”
“friends,” you agree.
it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.
“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”
“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”
“that shit was the worst to get off.”
“funny as hell though.”
“yeah, for you.”
everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.
—
“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.
“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.
you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.
“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”
“yeah, but—“
“you’re just scared. i know you.”
“nayeon …”
“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”
“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.
“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”
you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.
“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.
everything happens for a reason.
“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.
“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”
“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”
“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”
“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”
the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.
you want more.
you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.
you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.
—
you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.
it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.
you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.
he looks like home … no, he feels like home.
fuck.
you really are torturing yourself.
when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.
so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.
“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.
“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.
he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.
as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.
after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.
“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.
“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.
“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”
“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”
“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”
“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”
“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.
you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.
“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.
“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.
you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.
when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.
jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.
you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.
when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.
“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.
“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”
your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.
“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.
“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.
of course he wants more with you.
“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.
“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.
“okay.”
—
fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.
he feels the same with you.
this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.
part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.
so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.
“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.
“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.
if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.
slow and steady. you are both fine with that.
“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.
“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.
—
it’s going terribly.
traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.
okay, fine. to the movies it is.
except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.
when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.
“bam, no!”
all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?
bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.
“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”
“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.
“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.
you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.
hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.
“can i come in, kook?”
a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”
jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.
you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.
he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.
“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.
“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”
“all of it.”
“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.
you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.
“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.
“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.
he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”
he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”
“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.
“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.
“hm?”
“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.
jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”
you felt fucking special.
so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.
he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.
“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.
he’s also your boyfriend now.
you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.
you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.
“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”
jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.
his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.
he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.
“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”
you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”
“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”
“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.
“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.
jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.
“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.
his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.
“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.
if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.
you’re still so fucking perfect.
he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.
“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.
“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.
yes, he’s yours.
you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.
“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”
you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”
he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.
jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.
your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.
“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”
jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.
he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.
“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.
your heart swells at his words.
there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.
it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.
and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.
you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.
“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?
he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.
“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.
he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.
“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.
tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.
“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.
“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.
“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.
he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.
he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.
“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.
never, he thinks.
jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.
“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.
you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.
though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.
love is patient, love is kind.
you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.
fin.
—
a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜
#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook ff#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#bangtan fic#bts fanfic#jeongguk smut#jungkook enemies to lovers#jungkook friends to lovers
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But the other images I had was like a mass refugee camp. So basically at that point in time, two months ago, about 20,000 people had sought refuge both in the hospital and outside the hospital. And these weren’t tents. They’re still not tents. They’re makeshift shelters with bed sheets or plastic bag sheets. The ones outside sleep on the floor. They’re lucky [if] they get a carpet or a mat. There was one bathroom at the time for about 200 people that they have to share. And inside, the hallways of the hospital were also made into shelters. There was hardly any room to walk, and there’s children running around everywhere. It’s important to remember all these people were not homeless. They all had homes that were destroyed. They’re all displaced people that took shelter in the hospital.
So that’s the kind of mass chaos that I encountered initially, and then I was told that every time there’s a bomb, give it about 15 minutes and the mass casualties come. That was the other thing that at the time shocked me: What we’d been seeing livestreamed on Instagram, on social media or whatever, I actually saw myself and it was worse than I can imagine. I saw scenes that were horrific that I’d never witnessed before and I never want to see again. You have a mother walking in holding her 8, 9-year-old, skinny — because they’re all starving — boy who’s dead, he’s cold and dead and [the mother is] screaming, asking for someone to check his pulse and everybody’s busy in the mass chaos. So that was kind of my initial welcoming scene when I entered Khan Younis the first time.
{...}
What I saw — I’m an eye surgeon, an eye plastic surgeon, and so I saw the classic, what I penned “the Gaza shrapnel face,” because in an explosive scenario, you don’t know what’s coming. When there’s an explosion, you don’t go like this [cover your face], you kind of actually, in fact, open your eyes. And so shrapnel’s everywhere. It’s a well-known fact that the Israeli forces are experimenting [with] weapons in Gaza to boost their weapon manufacturing industry. Because if a weapon is battle-tested, it’s more valuable, isn’t it? It’s got a higher value. So basically they’re using these weapons, these missiles that purposely, intently create these large shrapnel fragments that go everywhere. And they cause amputations that are unusual.
Most amputations occur at the weak points, the elbow or the knee, and so they’re better tolerated. But these [shrapnel fragments] are causing mid-thigh, mid-arm amputations that are more difficult, more challenging, and also the rehabilitation afterward is also more challenging. Also these shrapnels [are] unlike a bullet wound. A bullet wound goes in and out; there’s an entry and exit point. Shrapnel stays there. So you gotta take it out. So the injuries I saw were — I mean, I saw people with their eyes blown apart. And when I was there, and this is my experience, I treated all children when I was there the first time. It was kids that [were aged] 2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 15, and 16, and 17 were the ones that I treated. And their eyes unfortunately had to be removed. They had shrapnel in their eye sockets that I had to remove and, of course, remove the eye. There’s many patients, many children who had shrapnel in both their eyes. And you can only do so much because right now, because of the aid blockade and because of the destruction of most of Gaza, there’s no equipment available to take shrapnel that’s in the eye out. And so we just leave them alone and they eventually go blind.
{...}
I was on the ground, I toured the refugee camps, I went around Rafah, I saw, and if there’s an Israeli invasion, I can’t emphasize enough how catastrophic it’s going to be. It’ll be mass killing, mass destruction, because all these figures come in, 50 dead, 100 wounded. But what people don’t realize is, being wounded is a death sentence. Being wounded in this environment with no health care system, completely collapsed, is a death sentence. And the wounded often will lose everybody, like all family members, so they have no supports, especially children, have nobody left to take care of them, not even aunts and uncles. It will be catastrophic. I don’t know what to say to the world to stop an impending invasion. You’ve got to rein this prime minister of Israel in. You got to do something to stop this stupid invasion that he still wants to do, because it’ll be catastrophic.
{...}
I had one young man, about 25 years old, he lost one eye that I took out myself. He spent about five, six, or seven years, basically spent thousands and thousands of dollars in IVF treatment because he got married young and they wanted to have a child and they couldn’t have one. So he spent years on IVF treatment and finally had a baby that was 3 months old. And there was a missile attack by Israel at his home. He lost his entire family, including his baby and his wife and his parents and family. He’s by himself, single guy. I took his one eye out, and he has nobody in this world. He just kind of walks around the tent structures, just kind of walking around with no home and trying to sleep wherever he can.
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The Babysitter | Joel Miller x F!reader
hello :) first time writing/posting a pic in actual years (first time on this blog also). hope you enjoy. please leave some feed back!
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader, no outbreak au! Sarah lives! slight age gap
summary: you baby sit for Joel and the two of you can't keep your hands off each other
warnings: slight age gap, dirty talk, babysitter kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, m!receiving oral, mentions of dicks... I think that's all
word count: 1.9
rating 18+
The sun had long faded in Austin, the only light in the Miller’s living room was coming from the floor lamp and the television, which was on but turned down low so you wouldn’t disturb Sarah. You had just put her to bed at Joel’s request. A short text sent to you earlier, knowing that you’d be babysitting a little longer than normal on Tuesday night.
Gonna be a late one. Sorry princess.
You’d simply given him a ‘thumbs up’, not really minding hanging out with your favorite 8 year old. Your afternoon had been wildly enjoyable with Sarah–she was way too mature for her age and it was probably inappropriate how much you considered her a friend, but whatever, you’ve had a stressful couple of weeks and she was one of the only bright spots. Well, her, and her incredibly attractive father that you sometimes hook up with.
Things with you and Joel were… how should you put it? Complicated?
You had started babysitting for Joel and Sarah during the first semester of your Master’s program at University of Texas, just a little over a year ago. You and Sarah fell into an easy routine–you would pick her up from school, help her with her homework, and give her some of the feminine energy she was surely missing with only having Joel and her Uncle Tommy around. And you really enjoyed it. You were never one for little kids, and at her age, you were certain she would be annoying as hell to deal with, but nope, Sarah Miller was intelligent and inquisitive, albeit a little headstrong. You admired her, and really respected Joel for doing his best practically on his own.
You and Joel also fell into an easy routine. One night of staying late and sharing beers led to you face down and ass up on his couch and having one of the best orgasms of your life. You both promised each other you would quit, not wanting to complicate anything since you and Sarah had such a close bond, but you quickly broke that promise, again and again and again.
After a few months of hooking up a couple nights a week, Joel told you he was seeing someone–Tess, an age appropriate mom from Sarah’s class and he wanted to pump the brakes on whatever it was the two of you were doing. You acquiesced, begrudgingly, but it was only a few weeks later that Joel said things didn’t work out and you ended up back in his bed, on his couch, and bent over the kitchen counter.
It wasn’t serious between the two of you. You had a lot going on with wrapping up the last semester of your Public Policy Master’s, and he was busy building his business and raising his daughter. But that doesn’t mean you would be opposed to something a little more serious developing. In fact, you were pretty sure you were in love with Joel. But he definitely didn’t need to know that.
You must’ve been completely zoned out as you didn’t hear Joel’s old pickup truck pull into his driveway before he entered his living room and called your name.
“Hey princess,” he said, that deep Texas drawl that made your insides melt flowing easily from his pouty lips. “How’s Sarah?”
“Perfect, as always.” You glanced up from the couch shooting a smile his way.
God, he loved your smile.
“She helped me make dinner and then we did her homework. I deep conditioned her hair, too,” you added. “You know, you gotta take her to a salon once in a while, Joel. You know, one that knows about black hair?” You had been bugging him that the 15-in-1 monstrosity he calls shampoo he and Tommy use would not work on Sarah’s curls.
Joel smirks to himself, absolutely loving the way you care about his daughter. “I’m workin’ on it, darlin’.”
A comfortable silence hits the room and Joel goes to his fridge to grab two beers. Your gaze is back on the TV, some old episode of Law & Order playing that barely has your attention.
“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, reaching for the beer without looking at him.
“Had a date.”
“Tommy Miller has a date? Now that is surprising.” You giggle as you take a sip of your beer. Joel tracks the way your throat looks as you swallow.
He takes his time to take in what you’re wearing. A sweater that tapers around your waist perfectly and a short black skirt. You look sexy, effortless. Joel realizes you always do. Like everything you wear is custom just for you.
“Is this how you dress for work, darlin’?” He lets his large fingers play with the edge of your skirt, barely grazing over your skin. “Kinda slutty,” he adds, smirking at your surprised face.
You school your features quickly and he knows he’s screwed by the sickeningly sweet smile that graces your face. You quickly place your beer on the coffee table in front of the couch and turn to face Joel. “Me? Slutty? No, Mr. Miller, I’m a good girl.”
Joel eyes you from head to toe so slowly that you feel little bursts of heat crawling over your skin. He frowns at you playfully, groaning exaggeratedly as he takes another draw from his beer. “Don’t know about that, princess. Good girls don’t wear slutty little skirts like this to work.” His hand slides up your skirt and grazes over the damp slit of your underwear before he tugs them down your legs. The low whistle he lets out sends a chill down your spine.
“And good girls definitely don’t wear tiny little panties like this to work.” He brings your thong to his nose, lewdly taking a deep inhale that only makes your wetness grow greater. “Dirty girl,” he sighs out. “Trying to seduce your boss?”
You moan at the sight of him, it was so debauched, so dirty, but it only made you more eager to fall into whatever role play this was.
“No, Mr. Miller, I would never try to seduce you. I promise I’m a good girl,” you plead. You watch as he absentmindedly toys with your damp thong, running his other hand over his growing bulge. You get an idea that’s going to drive Joel wild.
“Can I show you, Mr. Miller?” you ask, earning a quirked brow from Joel. “Can I show you just how good of a girl I am?”
Joel groans at how easily you fell into this dynamic tonight, not necessarily what he had planned when he came home. He spreads his legs and pats his thighs, “Yeah baby, show me how good you can be.”
You eagerly hop off the couch, taking a throw pillow with you and placing it on the ground and kneeling on it in between his legs. You let your hands rub across the tops of his thighs and give him a wide eyed look that he would almost call innocent if he didn’t know you better. You reach for the zipper of his jeans, grazing your fingers over his bulge before you pull his hard cock out and sigh dreamily. Joel definitely had the best looking dick you’ve ever seen.
Growing impatient at your slow pace, Joel grabs the back of your head and you instinctively stick your tongue out to lick at his tip. You groan at the heady taste of precum on the bulbous head. You slowly start to jerk him off, keeping your mouth only at his tip to tease him.
“You gonna show me how good little babysitter’s suck cock, princess?” he peers down at you, watching how your eyes flutter closed at his words.
You let out a needy whine. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”
You inhale deeply, making debauched eye contact with Joel before you take as much of him as you can down your throat. Joel was big–thick and long in a way that your friends swore you were exaggerating. You’ve taught yourself how to take him down your throat, proud that you were able to go from taking a meager 4 inches of him when you first started hooking up, to now being able to brush against his trimmed hair at the base.
You can taste the sweat from his work day on your tongue as you start to move up and down. Your cheeks hollow out to make a suction and drool is pooling from your mouth. You’re trying not to gag, but the sheer size of Joel makes it damn near impossible. He looks down at you, eyes filled with something a little more than lust as he watches you swallow his cock further into your throat. Spit bubbles are pooling at the side of your mouth and your eyes are glassy with unshed tears. He shuts his eyes tight trying to stave off his orgasm–wanting to enjoy you just a little while longer. You release him with a pop and jerk him off as you start sucking his balls.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Miller?” you ask teasingly, voice already sounding a little hoarse from the exertion.
He looks back down at you, willing himself not to cum. He hums and nods the best he can, scared words will be too much for him.
You shift on your knees, readjusting as you gear yourself up to take him again. Joel thrusts slightly into your mouth, fitting perfectly and you moan around him, the vibrations making him twitch in the back of your throat. You push him deeper into your throat and Joel places his hand on the back of your head in a way that’s less forceful, and more caring. Like he’s just reassuring you that he’s there. He’s making little grunts and moans and you can’t help but drool a mix of your spit and his precum down onto his balls.
You look up at him and see his brown eyes softly looking back down at you. Way too sweet for what you’re doing.
You’re getting sloppier and sloppier, veering towards cock drunk as Joel tells you he’s about to cum.
“Where d’ya want me, baby,” he slurs, in his own fucked out state.
You can’t let up now with Joel being so close to finishing. You bare down, deep throating him to a point that nearly makes you gag, but you will yourself to power through it. Joel starts to thrust into your warm, wet mouth before he moans a little too loud and spills his cum down your throat.
He’s so deep you barely taste him, only letting yourself up when you feel him relax underneath you.
You both catch your breaths for a moment and after a while, Joel pulls you up from your underarms and sets you over his lap. You almost forgot you weren’t wearing any underwear as your now soaking heat is pressed over his wet cock. Even soft it’s firm and thick.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes heavily. Brown eyes looking down into yours before he kisses you sloppily, tasting himself on your tongue.
You smile appreciatively, dropping your head to his shoulder and smelling the remnants of his cologne from earlier in the day. You’re insanely horny now but happy nonetheless that you made him this fucked out, feeling a surge of confidence at the thought.
“So,” you start, your smile breaking the warm silence between you two, “am I a good girl?”
Joel laughs, rubbing absent minded circles on your back. He thinks he loves you. “Yeah, princess, you’re the best damn girl around.”
**if you made it this far please leave a like, comment, reblog or a dm with some feedback! I want to get back into writing so this was just me dusting off the cobwebs... ty :)
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#joel miller x reader#Joel miller au#Joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#Joel miller#joel tlou#tlou fic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction
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reminders of the passage of time moodeboard
#my blog is in his last year of middle school. he'll be off to high school next year (at least I think so..? 13 yrs old is usually 8th grade#at least from my experience. 9th graders are usually 14. 10th are 15. etc. etc. and then you're in 12th grade#and graduate high school usually 17yrs old.) ANYWAY.. wow he is so ancient..#maybe he's still in a preteeny early teen emo phase or something.. I hope he gets some black and white striped armwarmers and black eyeline#r for his birthday. Maybe an MP3 player of course. Though because I don't really like most alternative music and he is my son he's actually#not allowed to listen to metal or pop punk or emo rock whatever stuff. I open the mp3 player and pre-stock it with only#disco and funk and classical music. he can have a little chiptune or techno stuff as a treat (sometimes emo adjacent maybe more#scene. I think a lot of scene kids were into that more.. emo's weird eccentric brother))#Also he starts taking iron pills his 13th birthday because he's probably incredibly anemic just like me#so on and so forth and et cetera (I'm just being silly.. I am not pro-controlling your children down to whatmusic they#listen to or etc.etc. lol)#THOUGH I love that it's in january... january is one of my favorite months if not my favorite. yeeaaay#just such a nice cool month. I like that it's the start of the year mostly and that it's sometimes snowy here. Like where I live nov - dec#isnt really actually snowy?? You always associate those winter Months with snow but I think snow happens later on this coast#so it's more like Jan - March or even april sometimes. Though that may just be climate change lol.. But it's cool that Jan is winter AND#ACTUALLY snowy. plus the Beginning Of Year vibes and energy.. hrm... nice nice.. ANYWAY#AND this is not even my first tumblr blog. I had a different one before it I think..#evviilll to be on one website for so long lol.. Very thankful that most websites I used to use as a 10 year old or whatever#are now defunct. There's something weird about how humans are just creating endless streams of words and pictures and all of this stuff#and it just goes out into the void and stays there long after the person themselves has forgotten it. not even like 'oh no what if i said#something bad!!' but more just the general sense of.. people create so much more ideas than they can actually hold in their heads. nobody#remembers exactly word for word every post they've ever made or etc. It's like parts of yourself that you've externalized and then fade awa#from you but they're still you but they're not so you just have little snapshots of yourself in time floating around entirely unbenknownst#to you. like making clones of yourself and then forgetting you did so but every once in a while going 'shit... there's clones out there..#of me and I don't even have track or awareness of them anymore.. what an odd concept..' etc. not EXACTLY like that ghbj..you know what I me#n.. or maybe you dont.. hrmm... ANYWAY#I am just now slightly recovering from my most recent mysterious illness spell and etc. so I would like to post more again and mAYBE even#do a costume if I'm being ambitious.. but after so many times of being randomly stricken by problems I'm now fearful of ever being too#hopeful lol.. always like 'I would like to go to the grocery store tomorrow! .... MAYBE.. if i CAN.. possibly... NOT getting my hopes up'.#etc. etc. etc. every statement has a caveat and a backup plan and so on and so forth and such is life.. anyway. happy birthday evil tumblr
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But can you imagine if Danny has been intangible and growing inside Tim for nine months? And Tim isn't showing any visible pregnancy the whole time. But Danny's baby sized body is just floating around inside Tim's torso. Just phasing through organs and bones and all, as Tim moves around.
The Batfamily must be so stressed, wondering just how long this magical parasitic pregnancy will take. Tim didn't mention anything about a set amount of time he'd have to carry the eldritch Death God. He wasn't even showing, was he going to show eventually? Would it be the length of a human pregnancy? Or could it steal years of Tim's life, being benched and shackled to the creature?
They don't want to let him out of their sight. They want to wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him safe, but know he won't appreciate it at all. But at the same time they struggle to meet his gaze and struggle with how to treat him. They feel so guilty he's going through this, that he basically sold his body to save Bruce, because no one else was offering any help or even believed in him.
At the same time they have to restrain themselves from mother-henning Tim because they want to protect him and make sure he's doing okay. They know Tim is fiercely independent and won't like being smothered. But they're so scared carrying and birthing an eldritch god could hurt him. But at the same time, they can't have Tim be around when they're stress spiraling and plotting ways to protect Tim, and the world, from the Death God. Tim had mentioned that the being inside him could tell what was happening around him and hear him when he talked.
On top of that, Tim's been having mood swings since nearly the start. Seeing Tim tearing up and crying over little things is enough to make the family panic. Tim overhearing any of them arguing and distressed over his pregnancy would be sure to set off tears. After Tim having dealt with Dick and Bruce fighting, early on as Robin, they didn't want to upset Tim by making him think they were fighting about him this time. And sometimes they did get into angry yelling matches because none of them knew how to channel their impotent anger, guilt and fear. They couldn't do anything while the god was inside of Tim. They couldn't risk it would harm Tim if they tried anything. They had to wait, stewing on the knowledge that some death god had taken advantage of their brother and was using his body for it's own purpose.
It made trying to interact awkward and uncomfortable because of how much they had to hold back from Tim. And Tim was obviously more uncomfortable around them as time went on. He rarely stayed at the manor once things grew too awkward. But they had Raven and Gar keeping them up to date on how Tim was doing staying in Titans Tower with his friends. They knew his team, his friends, would take care of him and keep him as safe as possible.
But even after Tim mostly moved into Titans Tower, the family kept inviting him to the manor. He usually refused except for family dinners. But sometimes they (Alfred or Bruce mostly) was able to convince Tim to stay a while, even if just for a night. But two months ago, something disturbing happened to change even that pattern.
It had been after dinner. Tim had been tired. He always seemed to become more tired as the months of pregnancy went by. It was concerning to the family how often they caught him tired, and sleeping. Conversation had been awkward, as it usually was these days. They hadn't wanted to stress Tim by discussing their nightlife, that he was benched from, or talking about the latest issues with Wayne Enterprises, that he also couldn't help with.
Tim excused himself from the table a little early, rubbing his lower belly, uncomfortably reminding everyone of the death god in the room. Tim moved into the family parlor to lay down for a bit. Once he was out of earshot, they worriedly whispered about how tired Tim has been and if the pregnancy was going to end up draining him too much. Even Damian had sniped uneasily about how little Tim had eaten and that he was foolish for not keeping his strength up.
After dinner, Cass peeked in on Tim and reported he was asleep. They wanted to let Tim sleep, so decided to move to the family media room after dinner, instead of joining Tim and risk waking him up with their noise. Dick detoured to check on Tim himself because he needed to reassure himself his little brother was still okay.
Tim was curled on his side on the plush overstuffed couch that always seemed to suck you in and cushion injuries just right. His mouth was slightly open and drooling just a bit. Dick crossed the room to pick up a blanket before moving over to crouch beside his little brother. He just watched him sleep for a moment, eyes soft as he moved a bit of hair out of Tim's mouth and tucked it behind his ear. He frowned as he glanced at where Tim's hand still rested over his lower belly.
Then Dick stood to shake out the blanket. Tim stirred, rolling over to sprawl on his back. And a translucent baby leg poked out of Tim's abdomen with the motion. The leg kicked for a heartbeat before pulling back into his body.
Dick couldn't breathe. His blood was ice and his insides swooped nauseatingly. His mind was blank with horror. He didn't even register he'd dropped the blanket on the floor. His vision was tunneling. The foot reappeared between Tim's splayed fingers as it kicked outside of his body again.
Dick didn't even realize he'd shrieked until after Tim was jolting upright, confused and groggy, alarm on his face. Dick choked off the sound, staggering back.
"Wha-? Buh-?" Tim glanced around before blearily focusing on Dick. "...Dick?"
His gaze darted to Tim's flat belly, suddenly afraid he might see more of the eldritch death god tearing it's way out of his little brother's body. But there was no blood, no gaping holes, no signs of the unnatural limbs reaching out of him.
Dick's mouth worked for a second before blurting out the first thing he could think of that wasn't the fear of the horrifying baby crawling out of his brother's stomach. "Blanket!"
Tim blinked, "What?"
"Blanket! I came to get a blanket!" Dick lunges down to snatch up the blanket he'd been about to use to tuck in Tim. He swayed unsteadily, still feeling off-kilter and dizzy. But quickly straightened up and fled the room down the hall to the family media room. The rest of his family was already in the hall or media room doorway from his shriek only seconds ago.
Dick nearly collapsed into Bruce's arms with a strangled noise. Bruce responded by pulling him back out of the hallway, away from any perceived threat. Cass took point and hurried to check on Tim. Dick babbled incoherently about the demon baby, but when Cass returned a moment later she reported Tim was fine, but awake and confused.
The family retreated into the media room, and Damian started the movie to cover the sounds of their alarmed discussion. It took a while for Dick to calm down enough to coherently explain what he saw. Bruce had to walk him through breathing exercises to keep him from passing out.
None of them noticed Tim briefly lingering outside the closed door. Rubbing his belly to calm Danny, as he realized that the family had left him alone in the parlor, and gone to hang out and watch movies together without him. Dick had only woken him by accident and hadn't even asked him if he wanted to join them.
Tim went up to his room, because he was still too tired to drive safely to his Nest tonight. But after that he declined offers to stay in the manor. It was painfully obvious they didn't want him intruding on their family nights.
Just a little idea
What if when Tim went off to look for Batman when he was lost in time he bumped into Phantom.
They made a Deal
Phantom knowing CW helped him find Bruce and how to get him back safely, Phantom in return for reasons (hurt badly & recovering, or evolving in power) needed someone very ecto-contaminated (Ra's fault) like Tim, to be contained in.
From a magic user point of view, knowing very little of the GZ and how they work, Tim made a very powerful Deal with a powerful death being (High Ghost King Phantom: Hello!) and is now somehow pregnant (not really but they don't know that)
Danny while inside Tim inside his core can still hear the world outside normally and can share his emotions with Tim to communicate. Which looks a lot like Tim is speaking to his belly just like expecting parents do.
This could be angst or crack
or
my personal favourite, different genres for different pov's
Tim's would be happy, just regular getting his life back together being a total BAMF, coming of age type of vibe
The rest of the Batfam and other heroes pov would be angst, paranormal, psychological horror.
Misunderstandings galore
Dick regretting heavily his decisions which caused Tim to run away because he did not believe him and he has many Regrets.
Bruce feeling guilty that Tim felt the need to make such a decision as to make a Deal and end up pregnant just to bring him back.
Meanwhile the magic users have told the other heroes about Tim's situation and now think that he's going to give birth to the child of a very powerful death being and if something happens to Tim to risk the baby it would cause all of their worlds destruction.
so pretty much-
Tim-Girl Boss, Gatekeep, Gaslight
Batfam- Much Angst
Others- *panicked chicken noises*
~
Just an Idea
#Tim is so lost#The Bats finally have the clues they needed right in front of them#To at least realize that they've probably missed some crucial details about Tim's deal#And Danny is just exasperated#He's 15 years old and also only 15 months old and also also just 15 minutes old#It's all very disorienting and confusing and his little body already wants a nap#None of this is anywhere near what Danny expected when Clockwork suggested this deal as a solution to all their problems#Although Danny really should have expected some shenaniganery from the old clock.#Clockwork was always up to something#tw: body horror#my writing additions
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My Voice to You: Mai from Gaza
I am Mai, 28 years old, and my life has completely changed over the past 13 months. The war has taken everything from us—our home, our safety, and even our health. Today, I live amidst unimaginable suffering, but I am still trying to stand strong for my family. • My mother: She underwent a complex heart surgery and had a heart device implanted. She needs medications costing $350 weekly, but the skyrocketing prices have made it nearly impossible to afford them. • My brother: He was severely injured during the bombing, with 80 stitches in his hand. Now, he requires physical therapy to regain full use of his hand. • Me: Due to contaminated water and poor nutrition, I developed hepatitis. My health has worsened, but I’m fighting to provide for my family. • My father: He has been living in Egypt for the past 4 years due to critical health conditions after multiple heart surgeries.
We have no home, no income, and no security. In February, I launched a fundraising campaign to cover my family’s needs. My goal was to raise $40,000, but I’ve only reached 14% of that amount so far.
In just 15 days, it will be my birthday, but I don’t have the luxury to celebrate. All I wish for is to see my family safe and to reach at least 20% of my campaign goal.
Can you help change my life and the life of my family? Every small contribution means the world to us.
To donate, visit the link: [donate what you're able to or 5$ AT LEAST to my gofundme or my paypal is also available and they accept any transfer amount. and i know you all afford to give away at least 1$ !]
Help me make this birthday the beginning of a new hope for my family. campaing vetted by : @90-ghost @bilal-salah0 @gaza-evacuation-funds The ButterflyEffect Project number : 1197 @dlxxv-vetted-donations @a-shade-of-blue
@irangp @blaxploitations @knuckls @sibella @genlosscharliie @rosemarybleeds @guiltycrunch @xxx-sparkydemon-xxx @raytoroinmybackpack @boypussydilf @slimeybread @imjustheretotrytohelp @ultravioletbread @justmaghookit @treeen @sayruq @the-cryptid-is-loose @finnicksbf @calmmyfears @of-science-and-stars @cipherinator @dragoncarrion @faacethefacts @lana-baumgartner @hehemechief @evergreen-femme @sylvianritual @mobiused @magic-can @myceliacrochet @isuggestforcefem @evillesbianvillain @cherry-shrimp @chokulit @g0at0ad @ankle-beez @lirulua @lespetitestortuesdemer @lesbianmaxevans @pien-art @taxi-distance @tamamita @dlxxv-vetted-donations @dia-tou-amphistomou @scummrevisited
#donate#free palestine#help gaza#send help#cats of tumblr#g.txt#gaza genocide#aid for gaza#support palestine#savelives
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It's done!
I've wanted to make a Stranger emotion sheet for a while, so for the past month, I've been working on this. This has taken me at least 30 hours to draw, and another 15 to fully and properly animate and save. Possibly one of the largest projects I've drawn!
Below the cut, I've added a little bit of extra info behind the design choices as well as the lineart-only version and the dark version.
Since the full sheet is rather low-res, in the reblogs, I'll also add individual versions of each emotion—one for the full version, one for lines, and one for dark version ;v;
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Neutral
The basis for all emotions was based on how many Stranger fan artists draw him. While his eyes are more hooded in his main sprite in the game, I went for more open eyes to make him more expressive in the others. He received the shirt that current day Basil wears and is based on his 16-year-old design. His mouth isn’t visible in this state.
Injured
Beaten and bruised. Might resemble something else bloody that could potentially disturb Sunny when he’s reminded of her, so that even damaging Stranger threatens Omori’s purpose.
Defeated
Like Omori, Stranger does not succumb, as he is an intrinsic part of Sunny’s psyche. His physical form lets loose, and his colours invert.
Happy
When Omori looks at you :D
Ecstatic
A winner’s grin and jolting shoulders betray Stranger’s emotional state as he tries to hold in his laughter. Whether he’s mocking you or he’s just happy to see you is up to you.
Manic
Now having snapped, Stranger full on lets out a nasty snicker and a boisterous laugh, looking down on his enemies in mocking amusement.
Sad
When Omori ignores you :(
Depressed
Ghosts can cry?
Miserable
End of life type of misery. Paralysed by grief, Stranger might choose to put an end to himself rather than waiting for defeat, but might in turn damage Sunny’s brain by harming part of himself. In a last-ditch effort to guilt him into facing the truth, he uses familiar imagery that might shock Sunny enough to snap him out of this nightmare.
Angry
Stranger isn’t easy to anger, so his first stage of anger is more like exasperated annoyance.
Enraged
As his anger ramps up, Stranger prepares his vines to grab and skewer any enemy who might seek to enrage him.
Furious
Molten fury tears into the fabric of the dream, collapsing it into a mess of glitches and weaving his tar rage into its matrix as he seeks revenge on not just Omori, but the dream itself. This is the point of no return.
Afraid
Nervous, Stranger tries to control his breathing and stay calm.
Stressed Out
As his pulse hammers through his body and he heaves, Stranger’s outlines have inverted in sheer panic.
Terrified
The whites disperse into cyan, magenta, and yellow. Some say it is a survival instinct to evaporate into nothingness.
Dark version
Lineart version
#omori#omori game#omori fanart#omori stranger#stranger omori#omori basil#basil omori#animation#polaroid posts#stranger
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