#i don’t know WHY they’re all so skinny but i KNOW it’s my fucking fault

[usedtobethelegendcreator]

FUCK canonically accurate character designs, it’s MY turn to go stylized.

[tobeabatman]

The most common eating disorder

Obviously a trigger warning for eating disorder discussion:

The most common eating disorder, I ask. Anorexia, you think. Maybe even bulimia.

This is the question that even my biology teacher didn’t answer correctly a year back. And I get it: our society is very loud about anorexia and its dangers. Sometimes even (shamefully so) jealous of them.

But for this eating disorder, you’ve probably laughed at its patients on TV. Why wouldn’t you?

The eating disorder I’m talking about is (not obvious to many) binge eating disorder (or BED), of course. It’s the leading eating disorder, by almost 50%.

It’a bulimia’s sister: the shameful disorder we don’t even consider a disorder. The disorder, where you binge but don’t compensate. The eating disorder that was (incorrectly) named as the fat person’s eating disorder in my school health textbook.

And as you may or may not have guessed, I have binge eating disorder. And I’m also fat (no shame with that). Which means that for years I just thought that binging was a personal fault, maybe even a sugar “addiction” (side note: not all researchers agree that you can get addicted to food or sugar in addiction’s literal sense).

Because binging is associated with ”morbid obesity” in television shows such as My 600 lb Life (without the show ever discussing binge eating disorder, or treating it in participants that exhibit symptoms) people have a very prominent lack of knowledge on binge eating disorder. I know someone who laughed at a My 600lb Life (out of fatphobia and moral superiority) participant, even though they likely had binge eating disorder, (and laughing at people just because they’re fat, is pretty fucking disgusting. This ignorance towards binge eating disorder results in the lack of treatment for patients with binge eating disorder. I have had binge eating disorder pretty much my whole life. My parents recognized that my eating habits were abnormal before I even started school, yet they started restricting me instead of doing research or taking me to a health professional. (And that’s another thing with eating disorders: people think that they start at teenagehood. But they can start at any point of life. Disordered eating can be prominent in babies too. My eating disorder started because my parents had a particular way of teaching me and my siblings to eat: by threatening (which has lately been researched to cause binging in small kids).)

Later my school nurse (throughout ages 7-12), instead of clocking that I had binge eating disorder, asked me to monitor my weight for a month (I was slightly overweight, nothing concerning). I’m glad my mom prevented me from doing it, because monitoring my weight at 10 years old would have just added a new problematic aspect to my eating disorder (yay! /s). The last things I wanna clear up:

Not all fat people have BED.

Thin people can also have BED.

People with eating disorders are most likely to be fat, not thin.

Although not all fat people have BED, a lot of BED patients are fat (not all, though).

BED is the most common eating disorder, making up about half of all eating disorder cases.

BED is often ignored as just a quirk fat people have. This leads to:

A) Fat people not getting diagnosed as we feel like binging is our own fault and something that we are just doomed with (as society expects us to binge).

B) Thin people not getting diagnosed, as thin people aren’t socially expected to have problems with binging food (because it’s associated with fatness). Binging food is also socially more accepted when done by thin people, so people will not take a thin person’s binging as an actual problem (because at least they’re not fat).

7. Don’t assume that someone with any eating disorder, but especially fat people with binge eating disorder or bulimia, want to lose weight. I don’t want to be skinny: fat people are a marginalized identity, and I’m not going to lose weight just because the world bullies me if I don’t. (Read Unshrinking by Kate Manne).

8. This is not medical advice. This is a post that’s meant to make people aware of binge eating disorder’s existence. I’m not a medical professional, and everything in this post is my opinion as someone who’s both fat and has BED. You guys can always correct me if I talk out of my ass, as well.

I also hope that the physical effects of binge eating disorder get researched more. We know that anorexia might cause osteoporosis and bulimia might cause harm to teeth enamel. Meanwhile the only information like this we get for binge eating disorder is that people with BED will get type 2 diabetes because we are fat (which is a questionable piece of information to begin with. How do we know type 2 diabetes is the cause of fatness, and not the other way? And diabetes is not caused by binge eating: there’s just a correlation between binging, being fat, and type 2 diabetes. And not all people with BED are fat anyway).

I probably forgot something. Oh well.

[livvyofthelake]

i’m actually like still seething with righteous anger about work today. and yeah i know this is destroying my soul and i have to power to end these patterns etc. i am not a chill person ok a chill and regular person doesn’t need to have an anti haterism mantra for themselves to repeat when they get mad about a tv show. lovers soul buddha nature only i will remain… girl you do NOT have the buddha nature you got mad today because you saw a tiktok edit of a ship you don’t care about for a fandom you don’t like and you were mad because you didn’t feel like the song fit the characters dynamic…. anyway. yeah still mad about work despite it being 9:30pm. i left that place at noon fr. not even my fault bitch manager pissed me off so bad. had to call my mom and complain about her… because why would you as the store manager who is supposed to be good at managing things. give me a huge fucking task one hour before i leave. and i can’t even stay late to do it because we’re insanely over hours. and no one else can do it because YOU are shit at training new hires and none of these people know how to do anything relating to merch because you only train them for sales. and it’s this impossible project of moving around like six different areas of jeans THAT WERE NOT ORGANIZED WHEN WE STARTED. and i say “we” but i don’t mean it because she did not even help. and again. mind you she had me start this with one hour left on my shift. after i had just spent the whole morning doing shit she left from her crappy close last night. so i never even got to ANY of the stuff i had planned to get done originally. and she knows this. she knew i had plans of other things to do in a reasonable time frame that i could have knocked out so easy and left on a jolly cheery good vibes note. but she just couldn’t help herself she had to give me that shit which did not get done and everyone knew wouldn’t get done without me or someone else good there to do it and no good people were coming in after me until tomorrow morning. but she doesn’t even know what the fucking plan is so she’s not gonna be able to do it very well either now is she. and how are you as the store manager who’s supposed to make sure things are running smoothly going to stand there and tell me you don’t care if the jeans are unorganized and mixed together. are we gonna stand here and pretend you didn’t get so fucking bitchy about someone not sizing a stack of jeans in perfect order when they’re putting returns back on the sales floor just the other day. and every other day all the time. oh no she put a 29x30 on top of a 28x30 it’s the end of the fucking world. but suddenly today you’re gonna stand there and tell me you don’t want me to separate out the athletic fit jeans that are mixed in with the skinny jeans. and the three colors all mixed together. you suddenly don’t care about this. kill yourself. girls i’m so mad i hope she dies seriously

[undinegeist]

This is a made-up MCR tour story in which Y/N is the guitarist for G Way's (fictional) wife's band.

- 1 - 2 -

a small but important disclaimer: I get why this storyline might suggest a connection to Lindsay but this is purely something that came out of my brain; I'm not here to comment on their relationship, and anything here that resonates with something in their real life is unintentional, even if this did start loosely based on Gerard Way's life as it's somewhat known publicly.

-xx- G -xx-

I don’t know what kind of coincidence this is, but I’m coming down the hallway when I see her…with a security guard and a backpack, Lana’s tour manager in tow.

I can’t tell if she’s moving in or out, they’re just standing in the hall; talking, clearly not a pleasant conversation, but I really don’t care.

“Hey.” Why do I always start like that?

“Oh, hey, Gee. I was just…Lana called, said she…uh, I shouldn’t…”

“I know what she told you. What’s going on?”

“I thought Y/N should switch floors until we find someone to take her place…just in case.”

“Right. Thank you.” Why am I dripping cynicism? This isn’t his fault.

He takes this as the dismissal it is, though, and then it’s just me and her; I’m scared to look at her, but I do it anyway.

“What did they really tell you?

“That Lana wants me off the band…as if I didn’t know that already.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Going back to LA, I guess.”

“You could stay.”

“And do what?”

“How good are you at backstage stuff?”

“Decent.”

“Then that’s it.”

“Why does this even matter to you?”

“I like you, I guess.”

I just want that look in her eyes to go away; we barely know each other, maybe this is weird, but she’s holding so still, so far away…it makes me nervous.

“Lana’s not in there, is she?” There’s a teasing note to her voice, something darker underneath.

“No, I always get a spare room, just in case things get weird.”

She nods, like she’s had that too…must have had, they’ve been together for weeks, and no one can be around Lana without at least one kind of tension for longer than four days.

“Smart of you. Does it suck that I wish she knew so she’d be pissed?”

I unlock the door, hold it open for her. “Maybe, but I think you’d be exempt from that, given the situation.”

-xx- Y/N -xx-

His room is already lived-in; there are books everywhere, sketches all over the bed, a bag thrown down on the floor, clothes spilling out of it…red, black, leather, rockstar stuff.

But he’s wearing a plain black shirt with a checkered open button-down on top…not the usual rockstar stuff.

“I’m sorry it’s such a mess…I can’t seem to keep from exploding.”

He shoves papers to the side, pulls the bag up to the bed, starts looking through it.

“I don’t mind…mine wasn’t much better.”

He sighs as he stands, but then he smirks. “How long did it take you?”

“Two seconds…couldn’t find my favorite pair of shorts so I threw everything off my backpack all over the floor, got pissed ‘cause it wasn’t there then just went the way I was…never put anything back, just shoved everything in the closet until tonight and had to find a way to shove everything back in sans folding.”

He laughs. “Put it down somewhere til you go…I hear you about the shorts, though. Can’t find chocolate…maybe I can get some from room service.”

He’s going for the phone, I’m leaving my backpack over the desk, the only place that doesn’t have paper, ironic as all hell, when there’s a knock on the door; I can tell he thinks it’s Lana by the way he starts, scaring me too, though I try not to show it.

He opens it anyway, though, and I relax when I see him sigh, pulling it open the rest of the way, to reveal a skinny blond kid whose hair could use some fucking up…he’s pretty enough that I’d do it, too, if I got the chance.

“Fuck, Mikey, you scared the crap out of me…”

“Thought I was Lana?” The voice holds a smirk, just like his lips.

“Yeah…she doesn’t know, does she?”

“Nah, I just know your fake hotel names too well, Gee. Heard about the stuff downstairs…thought I’d check on you.”

“I’m fine…this is Y/N, by the way.”

“Oh…hi. Are you the same Y/N Lana wants to kill?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool…she wants to kill me too.” I like him already.

“Mikey…” Gee sighs, but I can tell he’s not all that upset, by the flick up one side of his lips.

“You know she does…but whatever. What are we doing?”

“I think mom slipped cocoa powder off my stuff again. Why doesn’t she ever do that to you?”

“‘Cause she still thinks we’re kids, gets upset that Lana keeps you from seeing her as often as she’d like, overcompensates by trying to baby you. Why don’t we get out of here?”

“Isn’t it too late for that?”

“It’s never too late. Do you want to come with us?” This he says to me, all challenge, still smirking.

“Where are we going?”

“Some diner…I want waffles. Or pancakes. Gee…get something over your hair. Do you need to hide too?”

“No…not that famous, thank fuck.”

“Lucky…you’re the attention-getter, then. Did you pack your fingerless gloves?” He’s messing around Gee’s stuff, too, without even asking.

“I don’t really wear them anymore…”

“Maybe not, but they’re here. Mom knows better…want to wear them? They’ll go well with you.”

I take them when I realize he’s talking to me. “Wish I could fuck up your hair.”

“Me too, but it’s gotta stay hidden…trademark from hell. Let’s go?”

Gee’s wearing a similar kind of beanie, most of his hair tucked in. “Yeah, lead the way.”

[thesiriusmoon]

I’m getting really sick and tired of a lot of men commenting under ig posts about the spectacular movie that is Barbie, things like “Barbie was just toxic feminism” and straight up hate.

And when asked by someone (normally a woman) “how?” They lie… and state that Barbie was putting men down?? Like… tell me seriously where in the movie men are put down. The second barbie was put in the real word she was sexually assaulted… which was a very accurate portrayal of our world.

Ken was never put down. Ken himself was insecure, it had nothing to do with Barbie. Barbie treated all the Ken’s equally, it’s not her fault she didn’t have romantic feelings for Ken the same way he had them for her. So once again, women are being put on blast for not reciprocating a man’s romantic feelings! Great! (Sarcasm)

Some men that I’ve seen have said things like “I wish Barbie focused more on mens issues.” What the fuck are you talking about in all seriousness and in the least mean way possible. The movie was made for women, and young girls. It reminded us all of our girlhood and how quickly it ended because we all at some point learned of the patriarchy and worried about standards and becoming insecure about ourselves.

In a way, it did talk about mens issues, but a lot of men have just decided to either ignore that, or take it the wrong way because the men didn’t end up running barbieland in the end! The movie shows us that patriarchy = not good, and how a lot of men because of it, feel like they have to be something they’re not. “Muscular”, “handsome”, “the bread winner.” When they don’t! They are perfect just the way they are! And THAT was Ken’s story. He learned he was enough (kenough) just the way he is. He never put Barbie down for not loving him back. He was hurting, hence the rudeness in Kendom, but with communication with Barbie, he figured it out. HE needs to discover who he is. Barbie knows who she is and loves it. But Ken has never seen himself outside of being in love with Barbie, which was his issue and his issue ALONE, not Barbies.

Barbie goes on a self discovering journey (which Ken invited himself to just a reminder) to find out why she’s feeling insecure and doubting herself and finds a mother struggling with herself too. Together they have a heart to heart which made me tear up because it reminded me of myself. It reminded me of the world we live in where little girls are hating themselves for not being “pretty enough” or “skinny enough” for not being the standard of a man’s view point.

Barbie isn’t about mens issues as a whole. But of course we see Ken learn that he doesn’t need Barbies affection to be himself and love himself. He eventually accepted it. So I believe that if the men hating on Barbie had actually just tuned into it, they may have found peace with their own insecurities… but no.

I don’t think a lot of men actually paid attention to or actually watched the movie. They’ve read other reviews of misogynists and have just rolled with the hate because they too hate women! These types of men are jealous of the community us women have built together and are just trying to tear it down because they hate to see us thrive and give ourselves credit for the things we’ve done. We’re mourning our girlhoods and wishing we could have just played pretend a little longer before we had to open our eyes at ages 10 or 11 to see the world for what it really is. A scary and unsafe place for women and girls.

So what I ask, for us girls out there, if you read a hate comment about the movie/women, don’t respond. Don’t interact at all. It’ll only fuel them more and that’s exactly what they want. I can practically see their cruel smile behind my screen whenever I read comments like them. They want us to feel upset and put down because we finally have a movie FOR US! They’re trying to ruin it for us. A movie that shows how we don’t need a man to feel fulfilled. Just report it, and move on. We’re better than this, let’s not stoop to their lonely and miserable level.

Love you all xx

[themostsensitivegirlintheworld]

first post

I’m in a really bad way right now. Suicidal even. I’m not going to kill myself. But the thought of how it would end this fucking cycle has crossed my mind more than a few times in the past few days. It’s a good thing that I’m too scared to die. I thought about cutting myself. Then I thought about why I would be doing it and I usually hear people say it’s to “feel something,” but to me, it’s to punish myself. Punish myself for being ungrateful. Punish myself for not being patient with my dogs when I was the one who chose to get them. Punish myself for being frustrated with my job that I didn’t get a thank you. Punish myself for not putting myself out there and then feeling lonely because I don’t have a partner. Punish myself for not taking care of my body when I have every tool and opportunity to do so. Punish myself for being stubborn. Punish myself for not finishing what I start. Punishing myself for saying no to three separate invitations for Christmas Eve and Christmas, but saying no to all of them. I could keep going. So, I will. Here are other things that make me feel like shit and like I need a punch to the dome: I make a good amount of money, but I’m always broke, so I never have money. I play both sides of the fence. Not on purpose but doesn’t that make it worse? I talk about being nice and then am so mean in my head. I talk so much shit. I talk so much. I do NOT give my dogs the attention that they deserve. I never walk them. I take up new hobbies, make them my entire personality, then abandon them. I’m not finishing dog training school. I have several good friends, but never reach out to them to make plans, but they still include me. I’m insanely jealous and insecure about everything. I’m sitting here in my own home, typing on my own computer, sitting on my own couch, with my three dogs, and a car outside, and I’m still selfishly depressed. I should feel lucky. But I don’t. I’m constantly feeling bad for myself and constantly looking for the attention that I absolutely did not get as a child. Wonder when that will go away. I can’t focus on anything, ever. I don’t even know if the Ritalin I’m taking is working or making it worse or nothing at all. I won’t stop taking it, because it keeps me skinny enough to where I can actually like myself sometimes. Looking at my social media, you’d think that I am this honest, laid back, smart, confident woman, which I am not. Social media is such a fraud. Yet, living alone, it’s the only way that I feel like I can feel like I’m not completely alone in the world. But subconsciously, I know it’s making it worse. I always have my eyes on some sort of screen. God forbid an actual thought creeps through. I order takeout all the time. I have barely any money but I’d probably order it tonight and tomorrow if it wasn’t Christmas Eve. 

People say to reach out when you’re struggling, but I already hate myself. The thought of reaching out to a friend while they’re all enjoying the holidays with their friends & families, to ask them to stop and pay attention to me feels….. like it will definitely make me hate myself even more. I haven’t had human interaction in about 4 days. This is my own fault as well. I’m lonely, but I isolate myself. I have plenty of opportunities to go out and be with people, but then I would have to perform and keep my mask up and I’m already so exhausted. I’ve been hyper-focused on how performative my entire life has been up to this point. I think most people call it “being present,” but I never liked that phrase. It sounds like an action that I can take to fix everything and I never quite understood it. It felt like homework. When I think of not being performative or even try it for a few seconds in public, it feels freeing. Too freeing. Like if I let it go on for another second or two, I’d get taken away in a padded truck to the looney bin. I am so afraid of letting anyone see the real me. I’d go so far as to say that no one has ever seen it. I’m sure that’s what’s holding me back from having any sort of meaningful relationship.

All I want is my person. I want my partner and best friend. Not some dude from a dating app that sort of works. I want it to be fairytale rom-com love. I want a meet-cute. I want to have that partner that takes candid photos of me and tells me how beautiful I look when I truly think I look hideous. I want that partner that I don’t have to perform for and they love me because of that. It feels like so many people around me have found that and I haven’t. They all tell me that I need to put myself out there more, but most of them didn’t find their significant others by puTtinG ThEmSelVes oUt ThEre, so they can fuck right off. Most of them met through friends or in high school or some other happenstance. Not because they went to a cookout looking to meet their future spouse.

I’ve been thinking a lot about being a writer lately. I read some quote from someone recently saying that they became a writer when they were 38. Which is my age. Then I’ve had a few people tell me that I should be a writer based off of social media posts, which is arguably the best compliment that I could get. The thing is… I don’t know where to start. I don’t think I’d want to share this piece that I’m writing right now. Maybe anonymously, but certainly not with my own name. Too many people would worry about me. Maybe a pen name? Or an anonymous blog? But then how do I get it out there so people can see it? In my fantasies, I’m a column writer or a freelance writer that is known for my raw and relatable emotion that comes through in my writing. It helps people. It makes people realize that they’re not alone. Eventually, I am known by my own name and I write a book or a memoir. Or I write pieces for the New York Times or Time Magazine. Or Rolling Stone. Pieces about emotional topics. But I don’t know if I can even write well when I’m not in an overly-emotional state. What would I do, only write very specific articles based on my moods? Maybe I’ll publish this anonymously and people can tell me what they think. 

I thought about entering writing contests and looked some up. But I’ve never had any formal training, so I feel like an imposter. BIG SHOCKER. I did see some of those monetary prizes, though, and that made it a bit more appealing. Is this a real dream or just another one of my ADHD fixations? What if I’m actually terrible and I’m one of those people who has no self-awareness and then I’ll be absolutely mortified. I worry about these things. I’m a worrier. I always have been and probably always will be. I’ve been trying my entire life to be the cool, laid back, doesn’t need to talk all the time, chick, but I’ll be honest - I’m old and it hasn’t worked for more than a few minutes at a time. I know I should EmBraCe iT but that’s one of those things that is much easier said than done. 

I’ve always been “too much.” I talk too much. I’m an intense person. I talk loudly. I don’t have much of a filter, (and not in that cool edgy way but more like in that throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks type of way). My brain: have a joke? SAY IT. NOW. TO EVERYONE.” Most of them don’t land, but the few that do are pure endorphin bombs. I don’t really know what that means about me, but I know that when I can make someone laugh at something - like, genuinely laugh.. not a quick giggle - I am over the moon. I will tell that joke over and over and over to get that reaction. It’s gotta be comparable to what heroin feels like. 

I’ve always heard that comedians are the most depressed people and that makes sense for me. I’m funny. I know I’m funny. It’s the only thing that I like about myself most days. A lot of people use humor to deflect in situations where they’re uncomfortable, but I think the difference with comedians is that we use it in every situation. It just gets stronger the more uncomfortable the situation. I mean, I didn’t even absorb that fact that I have a lifelong degenerative disease for TEN FULL YEARS because my brain told me to joke about it the minute I got diagnosed. So I did. Ask anyone who’s been around me for more than a few minutes - I like to joke. I like to laugh and make people laugh. How ironic, that on the inside, I want to die most days. How ironic that people would be the least worried about someone like me because “she’s always laughing,” when in reality, most nights, I am by myself in my bed, eating something that I feel guilty about and wondering why I’m forever alone. I’ll be the loudest and most obnoxious one at the party, but as soon as I get in my car alone, it goes down the tubes and the other side emerges. It has great timing like that - only coming out when no one else is around to see it. This big black cloud that’s always a few feet behind me, but sometimes catches up and latches on for a few days or weeks. Depression. Another disease that I have. Most people do, but I think for most people, it’s situational. I’m the super lucky type that has it always and forever and extremely intensely. When it does catch up to me, like it did a few days ago, I become an isolated, unbathed, starved, angry, crying, pathetic shell of a human. And that’s what I’m teetering on the edge of currently. 

I’m hoping that going to the shelter tomorrow, (on Christmas Day), will help me pull myself out of this hole. My guess is that either I’ll cancel last-second or I’ll go and feel a little bit better for a day or maybe two, and then fall back into it again. The loneliness. It’s crushing me.

[howaboutcastiel-personal]

Things that aren’t unbearable:

Brushing teeth

Shower

Read

Things that are:

Eat food

Drink things

Prepare the food

Have company

Washing hair

Brushing hair

Having dirty hair

Having knotted hair

Getting dressed

Being un dressed

Applying for jobs

Getting yelled at

Existing in this space

Everything is way too loud and I don’t want to spend time with the dog anymore unless he’s asleep and I’m asleep. Sleep forever would be better I guess. It’s back down to nothing good because Ryder is gone and Jerry is gone and I can’t go back to school and the meds are not working and my dad is mad at me because the meds are not working. And my mom is loud and I hate her laugh and her voice and everything she says and why am I so surrounded by crazy and hate and angry and crazy.

I laid in bed and read all day. A 90k word fic that was frankly fucked up but also beautiful and meaningful and I’m gonna kill my self. I’m gonna kill myself and no one is going to miss me. But it will give them an excuse to be angry at least and my mom will feel sorry for herself and they’ll say I’m in hell and it will be my own fault

Because she’s a narcissist and dad is spoiled and selfish and angry and Ethan is a sociopath who likes Andrew Tate and is obsessed with guns. And wanting to be alive feels less and less attainable every day but the drugs keep me from killing myself and I won’t stop taking them. I don’t know if she will miss me but I know she will tell everyone else that she is miserable. She will post about it on Facebook. Her Facebook friends will know I’m dead before I do. Just like everything else and god why wouldn’t I want to fucking die

It’s not like the planet is dying. Or wages are unlivable or rent is impossible or food is expensive and it’s not like my body is worth anything to anyone or that it even belongs to me in the first place

Everyone is mad and loud and angry and I am scared of everything and I want to stop being scared but I also can’t focus. Like I’m not really here anyway and I wish I wasn’t here. I wish I was all the way not here and if I was nobody would care and I don’t want to be helpful anymore. I want the rest of the world to die with me because it’s dying anyway and I’m not gonna help stop it. I’ve lost my ability to be something that people need. I’m not something that helps people and I can’t think anymore and all I feel is some kind of pain or tired so much that getting out of bed feels like torture from demons

Why the fuck does this haippend to everyone. Everyone has a narcissistic mom and a dad with anger problems and a fuck up brother that is somehow still the kid that they’re most proud of. And mean racist drunk grandparents and religious guilt and they don’t find getting out of bed unbearable so why can’t I do it anymore when o could do it fine before ?

I want my body to go away. I want to be skinny and buff and butch and I want to be good to my skin and eat right and I want to be pretty in the guy way. I want to be the furthest thing from the soft terrified fat thing I am that is argumentative with no bite or strength. I want to stop eating and never have to drink water again and I want to be able to get out of bed and feel alright

I don’t know what to do

[louisarmpits]

.

[itgirlification]

supermodel | jjk

the last three months have been hell for you, but Jungkook seemed to be living his best life.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: explicit mentions of body image and insecurities, infidelity, anal sex, oral (male receive), foul language (kinda), etc.

now playing: supermodel by sza

part two part three

Exactly three months ago, your and Jungkook’s 2 years relationship officially ended. Unofficially, it ended about 5 months ago. And for about one month now, Jungkook’s been seeing someone else.

Your heart and mind told you not to do it but you couldn’t help calculating. Three months ago, you were still dating, two months later, he started dating someone else. That must mean he’s known her for a while. Did he cheat on you with her? Well, it’s not like it matters now anyway, does it?

Her name was Yuki, an undeniable Japanese beauty. You were still in college, studying music and she was a famous model who appeared in internationally known magazines. You assumed she met Jungkook during a photoshoot since he was a professional photographer who often worked for companies like Vogue and Playboy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.

It wasn’t the fact that he moved on so quickly that hurt you the most. It was the fact that he knew all about your low self-esteem and how you lack confidence. Especially about your body. And he still went and dated a model, of all professions in the world. He was definitely over you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose. But thankfully, you knew better, he looked too happy for that to be even considered. He forgot about you.

You’re making yourself sadder by remembering all the times he assured you you were beautiful and your body was nothing to be ashamed of. The times he let his fingertips run over the lines of your stretch marks, whispering in your ear how much he loved them and how they reminded him of Tiger stripes. The times he caressed your jiggly thighs and told you how sexy he thought they were.

Then your mind would drift back to the phone in your hand, the Instagram page of Yuki Sakurai opened, careful not to accidentally like anything and expose yourself. Not that she’d notice anyway, she had 3.7 million followers, while you had a private one with 500 followers and no posts, and she gets around 300 to 700 thousand likes on each post, depending on whether she posts random photos or pretty pictures of herself. Or newly, your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Oh, how crazy everybody goes whenever she posts him. People love them together. You couldn’t blame them. Two attractive people? Of course, they’re gonna look great together.

Fucking great.

That the end of your relationship with Jungkook would look like this was semi-predictable from the beginning. He did admit to you that he never thought he’d date someone that looked like you when you first dated. And your heart broke a little. But he also made up for it in those two years, it was a beautiful relationship nonetheless.

While you weren’t exactly his ‘ideal’ type, he was definitely yours. You always heard from other women ‘when in a relationship, the man always has to love the woman more than she loves him. Otherwise, it won’t work.’ You never really got the saying until your breakup with Jungkook happened. It was the fact that you clearly loved Jungkook more than he loved you that lead to this.

“Oh my goodness!”, your roommate, Jane, dramatically exclaimed. “Will you stop feeling bad for yourself and do something? That’s not what hot girls do, sis.”

Jane was a lovely girl with a not so lovely temper. She always means well and you got along perfectly as soon as you met. Which was around 3 and a half years ago.

She looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. You obviously didn’t want her to see you snooping around your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s Instagram but it was too late.

“Seriously, yn?”, she took your phone in her hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go somewhere, you can’t do this to yourself anymore. I’m not letting you.”

Jane was clearly worried about you at this point. The only thing you did these last few weeks was eating, shower, cry, sleep and miss a whole bunch of classes. This wasn’t good at all.

“Where?”, your question was short.

“To the mall? Or the nail studio? Anything that’ll get you out of this fucking dormitory.”, Jane sighed, pulling the blanket off of you, making you whine a little. “C’mon, go put on some cute outfit and we’ll go.”

You felt bad since she was trying hard to make you feel better. But it didn’t really work.

You nodded, standing up from the bed, nonetheless. You picked out a cute two-piece dress, that brought back blurred memories of the time you went on a date with Jungkook, wearing the same two-piece. Bet Yuki would look cuter in this...

‘Shut your petty ass up, yn. It’s embarrassing, the way you’re stuck on a taken guy who wants nothing to do with you’

You wish you could change the way you think, even if it’s just for an hour or two. You wish you would stop imagining Jungkook judging you when he saw you naked or when you told him that you wished you could cut off some of your fat with a pair of scissors.

You were beyond ashamed of yourself. Why wasn’t it easy for you to just stay by yourself? why were you so desperately in need of Jungkook by your side to the point where you’d lock yourself in your room for a month just because he isn’t there?

You needed Jungkook. You became so attached to him in those two years, because you always saw him as a permanent, a forever. Not just a temporary, not just a distant memory. You already saw him as the father of your children, as the man you’re gonna marry.

You were so blinded by the fact that you had him, that you forgot you could lose him anytime.

“I’m done, let’s go.”, unenthusiastically, you announced to Jane, who was already waiting for you.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”, In contrast to your spirit, hers seemed to be all roses and daisies. “Lord knows you need it...”

__________

“Look at this cute ass skirt, girl”, Jane pointed at a chic, wine mini skirt she was holding. “You know, when I saw it back there I wanted to have it, but it’d look so much better on you”

You took a few seconds to admire Jane’s beauty. She was about 3 cm taller than you, had a great posture, and almond, dark brown eyes that suited her dark skin tone perfectly. Her body leaned more towards the slimmer side.

“Shut up! No, it would not”, you let out a small giggle. “It would look gorgeous on you, buy it.”

She smiled a little at your laughs. She was happy to see you at least a little cheerful again. “Yeah, but I think it’d look better on you. I’m entitled to my own opinion, am I not?”

You knew this debate was gonna go back and forth, because of her stubbornness. “Let’s both buy the skirt.”

You ended up doing so, added by a bunch of bags full of clothing. This may’ve turned into your new coping mechanism. Who needed therapy when you can go on a shopping spree?

Two hours were spent in boutiques and clothing stores and Jane decided she was tired, wanting to visit the local spa.

“No, seriously, these Riverdale seasons just keep on getting worse and worse. Netflix needs to step up their game ASAP”, Jane ranted, making you laugh at how serious she takes it. “It’s getting embarrassing. I’m being for real.”

The two of you were sitting in the whirlpool at the spa, relaxing your whole bodies a little.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don’t watch these new Netflix shows anyways. Been stuck on the vampire diaries for the last 7 years”, you chuckled, knowing you hated trying new things. “Can you pass me one of those magazines?”

Jane nodded, grabbing a random one from the table next to her and handed it to you, without looking at it.

The cover of it caught your eyes immediately. How could it not, when your ex’s new girl looks absolutely dazzling on the front page of it.

‘Supermodel Yuki Sakurai talks summer fashion tips, struggle with self-love and most importantly, her hot, new boyfriend the media is going crazy over’ was the headline of the Harper’s Bazaar Magazine cover.

You felt your stomach getting sick and your breath getting heavier, but you still flipped the pages until you found the one with her interview. You began reading it, skipping the boring parts.

‘Int: so, we see you have a new boyfriend. Tell us, how did you guys meet?

Yuki: Yeah, he’s an amazing guy. We actually met about six or five months ago at one of my photoshoots, since he’s a photographer and we exchanged numbers and stuff, and then we made it official mid last month.’

About six or five months ago? You were with him back then, but her answer was too unclear to find out if he cheated or not.

“Woah, yn, you okay?”

You entirely forgot about the fact that you were with Jane, let alone somewhere other than your bed.

Before you could react, Jane snatched the magazine out of your hand.

“You really can’t escape them, huh?”, She sighs, taking you in her arm. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. In a few months, you’re gonna look back to this and think wow I really was stuck on a guy who’s scared of microwaves and cried like a bitch when Iron Man died.”

You laughed, punching her arm playfully. “You know, I actually love these things about him. Shows his sensitivity and the way he perceives things.”

Jane looked at you as if she didn’t believe you were actually saying that stuff. “Girl, you’re overanalyzing this. Let’s just throw this shit in the trash, okay?”

She put the magazine aside.

“I just don't know what I did wrong.”, You murmured. “I know we weren't the best, but we didn't even fight that much. We could’ve talked it through.”

Jane pursed her lips and cooed. “You know, relationships are complicated sometimes. The reason why he broke up, to begin with, is probably not your fault.”

“Well, what if it is? I mean what if I was too fat or too ugly for him?”, you asked. “If he wanted a skinny girl so bad, I could’ve lost weight for him, I don’t get it.”

Jane looked at you like you lost your mind entirely. “I can’t believe you just said that! Even if that was the reason, which it wasn’t, you shouldn’t make yourself suffer because of it. That’s his loss. You’re beyond gorgeous and you have an amazing body.”

“You’re just saying that.”, tears slowly started coming up in your eyes. “But the thing is Jungkook knows all about my insecurities. Why would he do that to me? I know he knows that I’m still not over him.”

You usually didn’t like crying in front of other people, but you didn’t really care at the moment, besides that was Jane. You trusted her with your life.

“Girl, men are trash, I can’t believe you’re crying over one right now, seriously.”, she wiped your tears and held your face between her hands. “You know, honestly, I’ve read so many articles about how models actually hate themselves and have like the lowest self-esteem so in conclusion, no matter how miserable you are, his new girl is even more miserable.”

You knew Jane didn’t mean it in a harmful way, but it sounded harsher than needed. “I don’t hate her, she probably doesn’t even know about me. I’m just really insecure. He upgraded from me. He’s dating a whole model now.”

The situation just felt like a deja vu of these last few weeks laying in your bed, even though you were at the spa with your friend. You were supposed to have fun, yet you didn’t feel like having any.

“Why would you feel insecure when all you’ve seen of her are Instagram posts and red carpet pictures? She’s supposed to look beautiful, it’s her job.”

To a certain extent, Jane was right, but that didn’t really help your situation, you still felt bad about yourself. You stayed silent.

“C’mon, this isn’t fun anymore. Let’s leave.”, Jane mumbled.

_______

it’s been two days since the incident at the spa and you felt a little bit better now.

Those days were spent reading the same three book series you’ve read your entire life, overthinking, hot Cheetos, Indian takeout, and Netflix. It really wasn’t as miserable as it sounded.

You were just taking a little rest before term break ends and you have to go back to the shithole college again.

Jane was using the time until college starts again, but in different ways than you were. She was planning on going to some frat party in an hour and forget about the world’ for a minute. Or till 4 in the morning, where she will most likely drunk call you and ask you for a ride back to the dorms, because the friends she went to the party with were shit-faced as well and were in no way capable of driving anywhere without the cops stopping them.

Going out partying on a Friday night was a Jane tradition. In the past, you’d sometimes go with her, but you mostly spent your time out with Jungkook doing something more fun than partying could ever be. Now you can’t do that anymore, but laying in bed is more ideal than a party for you at the moment.

“How do I look?”, Jane twirled around to show off her black cocktail dress. She looked beautiful.

“You look beautiful.”, you responded to her question. “Are you leaving now?”

“Hm”, she said, to which you nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me? It’s gonna be really fun.”

You shook your head no.

“Alright”, she shrugged, making her way out of your bedroom. “But I told you, it’s gonna be fun.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll stay here, I have shit to do.”

“Yeah, right, like binge-watching the vampire diaries and taking 5-hour naps”, she said in a sarcastic tone. “Anyway, bye-bye, Vic’s already waiting for me in the car.”

Victoria was perhaps one of the most obnoxious people you know, yet she was too much of a nice person for you to talk shit about her. The voice of your intrusive thoughts couldn’t help but to, though.

“Alright, bye, take care and say hi to Vic from me.”

After Jane left, an hour went by like it was just a couple of minutes. You were starting to get real bored and decided to watch some regular tv in hopes to find something you enjoy. You ended up not finding anything fun, but you still watched it, because you didn’t have anything else to do.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang and you were suddenly worried. Either this is a serial killer or Jane forgot something.

But to your surprise, it was neither, but it was none other than

“Jungkook?”, truly, those were the only words you were able to mutter out at your shocked state. “What are you do-“

At the speed of light, you were interrupted by your ex-boyfriend pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t say a word.

You weren’t expecting him. Not knowing how you were supposed to feel at the moment, you just let it happen. You were sure your mental state couldn’t get any worse than that, no matter how this will affect you in the end.

“Is Jane home?”, for the first time in 3 months, you’re hearing his silky voice again.

Jungkook knew Jane always had some type of special hatred for him with her killing stares and her bitter comments. You didn’t notice either though.

He also knew she must hate him even more after your breakup. Or maybe she liked him more now since she was able to get rid of him without killing anyone.

“No”, your answer was short and it made a weight fall from Jungkook’s shoulders before he continued kissing you.

It wasn’t anything you haven’t done before, yet it felt like it’s been ages since it last happened. Your mind drifted to the thought of Jungkook and his model girlfriend. You were asking yourself what their sex life was like, if she was tighter than you or if she had stretch marks and scars.

Jungkook’s lips were moving south, giving your neck wet kisses, while you were wondering why he broke up with his model girlfriend. Or if he even did. You felt selfish for not caring.

Removing your clothes one by one, you were left in your underwear, while Jungkook only had his boxers on.

This body was yours. You knew it inside out. Where he liked to get touched and where he preferred not to. You knew him better than anyone else. You were sure.

You already moved to your bedroom, since Jungkook effortlessly carried you there. You were sat on his lap, facing him and your hands were in his messy hair. His hands were around your waist, he was slightly smiling into the kiss, as you started grinding on him. He loved how easy it was for him to turn you on. You were still his.

Cutting off the kiss, he looked you in the eyes, while his hand was on your cheek. “Say aah.”, he said.

You widened your mouth obediently, which was followed by him collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth and spitting it into your mouth.

“Swallow.”, demanding, he spit on your face, his eyes become darker with every passing moment. You did as he said.

You looked at him with big eyes. He knew you loved it. You’ve always had a thing for him degrading and humiliating you during sex.

He started grinding on you almost desperately. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Getting out of his grip, you dropped to your knees and freed his hard dick from his drawers. You reached for it and started pumping it, and licking it. Your spit was leaking down his dick as you used it for lubrication. Then you started sucking on it, just the way you used to.

Jungkook’s groans and satisfied sighs were enough to make you even wetter than before. You enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Your mouth was wet and warm around him, giving him a feeling of familiarity. You lick over the tip a few times, then proceed to fully take him into your mouth.

The bulge in your throat could be seen and the way your eyes were tearing up a little wasn’t bothering you at all. You loved giving.

Jungkook started thrusting in and out of your warm, welcoming mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat multiple times.

“Fuck”, a throaty moan left Jungkook’s mouth, giving you hints that he was about to cum. And he did, releasing in your mouth before you swallowed it. “Shit, baby, that was so good.”

You felt your face heat up and a sheepish smile made its way to your face. Your throat was sore.

The two of you were on the bed again. To you, it felt like it was the times before your breakup again, when you’d purposely start an argument just for the makeup sex because Jungkook wasn’t giving you any anymore. It was like sex was the only thing to look forward to.

You felt attached to Jungkook to a point where it was dangerous. You weren’t okay when he wasn’t around. He affected every part of your life and God knew it wasn’t always a positive thing. Maybe it was the fact that he took your virginity. Maybe because he was your first boyfriend, the first guy that made you believe you were worthy of love and that someone was actually capable of loving you. One thing you knew was Jungkook had an expansive influence on your life.

While you were practically drowning in your own thoughts, Jungkook was busy taking off your underwear.

“You okay?”, Jungkook calmly asked you, looking at your riddled face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay.”, you sounded distracted, Jungkook wasn’t sure about asking you what it is though. He didn’t feel like getting personal.

So he shrugged it off and started kissing you again, his dick was unsurprisingly hard again as he played with your tits. He drew lines over the stretch marks of your thighs and kissed them.

“Can I fuck your ass?”, Jungkook’s raspy, tired-sounding voice casually asked, to which you quickly nodded, knowing that Jungkook’s favorite position had always been anal. He was massaging and gripping your ass firmly.

“This is gonna hurt at first, but I promise it gets better.”, He warned calmly into your ear, while putting some lube on his dick and just went right into your ass, slowly thrusting so you don’t feel as much pain.

He was right, it did hurt a lot when he first put it in, but the pain just changed into pleasure in a matter of time and his slow-paced thrusts helped with the adjustment.

“Fuck, I missed this ass”, he practically growled into your ear, as he kept on thrusting in and out, steadily gripping your wide hips with his big, veiny hands. “It just doesn’t feel right when I’m inside her ass.”

You knew your confidence shouldn’t rely on Jungkook bringing his girlfriend down, but you couldn’t help but feel good about your body when he said that. It’s been a while since you felt even a tiny spark of confidence. You weren’t so fond of him mentioning her while he was inside of you.

Your soft moans rang through the whole room like sirens, while he watched your ass jiggle against his pelvis, thrusting in and out faster every second. He missed this.

You had always thought you were indecisive, but you knew exactly what you wanted. You just couldn’t have that, so you’d eventually have to settle for less.

Jungkook wasn’t to blame for it, you just couldn’t concede your shortcomings. The movie’s villain wasn’t always the real villain.

Your hands traveled to your pussy to make sure you’d orgasm as well, when you heard Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier and his thrusts getting gentler than before, indicating that he was gonna cum soon. You were certain he could make you cum with just anal, but you wanted to cum with him.

With furrowed eyebrows and drops of sweat dripping down his body, Jungkook looked down at your arched back. The whole scene was sticky, especially when Jungkook presses his upper body to your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and kissing the spot.

It was kinda odd, having sex with your ex-boyfriend you were crying over just a day ago. There was a certain intensity to it though. Like your long-lasting nostalgia was finally fulfilled.

You’ve realized you couldn’t imagine yourself being intimate with anybody else. Jungkook already knew your body, how it looked without the material protecting it, the strawberry skin, the slightly sagging breasts you swore you’d surgically remove once you had the chance to but didn’t. He knew where you liked being touched, he was the first one to even touch you in those places.

You were unsure what you’d do with yourself when he leaves.

Jungkook’s thrusts slowly started stopping and you too felt the familiar sensation in your stomach.

Suddenly, you two were nothing but desire, fear, and pleasure. And faster than you could process, you came together.

For minutes after your orgasm, you were just laying on the bed, thoughtless. Maybe a little regretful. Not you, but him.

You weren’t facing each other, but you could hear each other’s breathing. Your stomach was filled with something you’d describe as post-sex melancholia.

All of a sudden, Jungkook stood up from the bed, startling your resting self a little, but you decided to keep quiet, wanting to see what he was going to do.

He made his way to the door to leave what he thought was your sleeping body laying there. You couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Where are you going?”, your soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. “Don’t you wanna stay?”

He didn’t know how exactly to tell you. You’ve always been a gullible little girl, you were the type of girl to think fucking equals love. Little did you know that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yn.... you know I can’t”, Jungkook responded, you knew it wasn’t gonna be good when he said your name like that. “I got a girl at home and I don’t wanna mess shit up with her.”

There it was. Your suspicion was corroborated. He was still going out with the model and you were a certified home wrecker. Great.

You physically felt your heart breaking. “Bu- but why are you here then?”

You were incapable of being mad at him at the moment. It was your fault for letting him in, again. After breaking your trust and your heart.

“This was a mistake”, he declared, not looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yn...”

He’s moved past your room now, already at the exit of your dormitory. He was about to leave.

“You already ruined shit with her when you came here and fucked me.”, your voice was small, but your words were heard.

Without looking back, he left.

And you went back to your room, standing in the middle of it for a minute in silence before your brain fully processed what had happened and your tears started pouring.

[1987vampire]

A Good Something? | Judd Birch

Fandom: Big Mouth Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: a hurt racoon, the f slur, just a lot of cussing.  Request: None! A/N: This isn’t established Judd x reader, this is meeting him for the first time so if I write more fics for him, I have something I can refer y’all back to :) If y’all want to see more Judd, an ACTUAL judd x reader, I can give y’all that ALSO the reader has dyed hair in this - not blue - it’s not super important but there’s a line in here that references it.  Extra: 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words were stressed as you slammed on the breaks. The rain made it hard to see; it wasn’t your fault that the animal had run into the middle of the road. You weren’t even going that fast, they should have been able to hear you.

You flung your door open harsher than you meant to, but you had to move quickly in case someone came speeding down the road, and you ended up bleeding out right next to whatever you had hit. The road was slick underneath your feet. You almost slipped and fell as you skidded to a stop in front of them. It was a racoon, a fat one at that, and it was staring up at you with big doe eyes. His leg was twisted, and he was letting out small grunts of pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, little buddy,” You cried. “Can I pick you up? I’ll find somewhere to take care of you, I promise.” You hadn’t really expected an answer- it was an animal after all – but he nodded up at you, reaching his little paws out in hopes that you would help. You paused for a moment, taking in the situation and trying to figure out how to pick him up without hurting him.

You reached an arm under his butt and the other under his neck so you wouldn’t jostle his leg too much. He made little chirping sounds as you steadily walked over to your car, using your head as a shield so he wouldn’t get rain in his eyes. You let out a quiet stream of ‘I’m sorry’s as you did so. You made it into your car just in time to close the door as someone sped down, narrowly missing you as they went.

The little racoon shivered in the passenger seat, but you covered him in blankets and spare clothes you kept in the back, turning the heat in your car on high, trying to dry him and heat him up at the same time. He stared up at you thankfully as you put the car in gear, driving home even slower than before, never going over twenty-five-miles-an-hour.

Once you had reached your apartment, you had to sneak him in in hopes that your shitty landlord wouldn’t notice. He had a strict no animals policy, but this was a bit more important. Fortunately, you could sneak past his office by telling the raccoon to be quiet, since he seemed to be good at listening to directions somehow, and hiding him underneath the pile of clothes, passing him off as laundry.

Finally, inside the comforts of your apartment, you laid him down on the couch and set to researching what to do. After a few calls to a few vet offices and a lot of google searches, you were able to give him a makeshift cast and lay him in a way that would be best for his recovery. He was still talking in his little racoon language as you went. It really looked like he was trying to tell you something, but unfortunately, you were human and could not understand him.

That was until he held your hand in his little paws and pulled them to his neck. How had you not noticed the skinny collar he was wearing? His thick fur had almost completely covered it. Really, it wasn’t even a collar but a thick piece of cord with a circle nameplate in the middle.

You fiddled with it, reading the information attached. ‘Contact Judd. 555-4200’ was engraved onto it in someone’s personal handwriting instead of with a machine. “You know it’s illegal for someone to own a racoon around here, right,” you told him. The racoon made a noise of disapproval and fiddled with the collar again. “Do you want me to take it off?” He hissed in displeasure, making you stop abruptly. “Call him?” He nodded enthusiastically. “You’re a strange little guy, you know that, right?”

You pulled out your phone and dialed the number, tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. It took a few rings, and you were sure he wouldn’t pick up, when a deep voice answered the phone.

“Do you know what fucking time it is, right now?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned towards the first clock you could find—three o’clock in the morning. “I- I’m sorry. I can call back in the morning if you want. I just have this racoon with me, and his ankle is twisted because I accidentally hit him, and he had your number on his neck, and I- I-“

“Racoon?” His voice cut you off, and you could tell that he was waking up at the information. “You hit one of my fucking racoons?”

“He ran out into the middle of the road when I was driving. It was raining, so I could barely see, and I couldn’t swerve to miss him because there was a car on one side of the road and trees on the other. I wrapped his leg, and he’s resting, but he wanted me to call you, so here we are.”

He let out a few grumbles, and my fingers instinctively rose to my face so I could bite at my nails. “Fucking hell. Why was he in the middle of the road?” It was a rhetorical question, but you had almost wanted to respond even though you didn’t have an answer. “Does he have any distinctive marks on him? A missing toe, clipped ear, maybe he has uneven stripes.” Your eyes fell on the racoon again. He looked pretty normal besides the leg.

Almost like he knew what you were talking about, the racoon pulled one of his hands up to his forehead. After you pushed some of his fur to the side, you knew what he was pointing at. “He’s showing me that he has a scar on his forehead - like he split his forehead or something.”

“Of course it’s fucking Gerard – the fat fuck.”

You frowned at the statement. “He’s not that fat.”

“I mean the sentence in the most loving hatred filled way I can mean it. He knows I don’t mean it. Can you give the phone to him?”

This was the weirdest fucking situation you had ever been in. “Oh yeah, I guess.” you placed the phone in the racoon’s hand, and he made a chirp as a hello. You could hear Judd’s voice lowly in the speaker as he talked to him, the racoon making noises of acknowledgement as he went. You could make out very little besides him asking if you were taking care of him and then berating him for being stupid. The racoon – well, Gerard – kept trying to talk to him, but Judd refused to let up, barely giving him a moment to speak even if he did understand him.

After a few minutes, Gerard pushed the phone towards me, and I took it back. “So, what do you want me to do with him. Like, I can take him to yours, since I guess he belongs to you, or-“

“Fuck off. What are you – the feds? Give me your address, I’m not letting you see my shit.”

“Well, usually people ask me on a date before seeing my place, but-“ the words had slipped from my mouth before I thought about what I was saying, and my eyes immediately widened with embarrassment. “Oh my god- I’m sorry-“

He laughed loudly and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Well, we can think about that after I get the fat fucking faggot in your house.”

Your arms crossed. “You better part of that community if you’re using their slurs, fuckface.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mused. “Give me your address. I’m getting in my car.”

After giving him the information, you hung up, itching at your arm as you stared at Gerard. “He isn’t very nice, huh,” you told him. He chirped and shook his head as if defending him. “Is he really mean or is it a front?” He chirped at the second part, and I smiled. “Well, he’ll be here soon.”

And soon it was. It only took him about ten minutes before you heard a loud knocking on your door, banging more like. You jumped from sitting beside Gerard to the door, peeking out into the dark hallway, the latch still connected. “Judd?”

On the other side of the door was a decently tall man with black and blue hair, his sides shaved til it was only stubble. He was clad in a gray hoodie and black jeans, gray converse on his feet. His face was set in a glare as he stared at you. “Who the fuck else would it be?”

You shut the door and unlatched it, opening it wider so he could come in. “You knock like my landlord.”

“Landlord?” He pushed into your apartment, his sights set on the racoon lounging on your cheap couch. “You don’t look old enough to have a landlord.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m nineteen. This is my apartment.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “And you let some strange man in? Pretty stupid if you ask me.”

You frowned and pursed your lips. “I can kick you out- keep your racoon if you don’t start acting nice.”

“You could definitely try.” He picked up Gerard’s leg, inspecting it. “You did a good job with this. Almost as good as my work.”

“He was a good patient.”

Judd scoffed, sticking his hands underneath Gerard to pick him up just as you had earlier that night. “He was probably just basking in a pretty girl’s attention.”

Pretty? A smile was climbing onto your face. He was pretty, too, if he didn’t have such a sour attitude.

His eyes fell onto yours as he turned. “I like your hair by the way. The color suits you.” You ran your hand through your dyed hair, suddenly very conscious of how you looked. “You should try blue next time.” Gerard made a loud noise in his arms and reached out to you. Judd frowned down at him. “You had your fun, dumbass, but you’ve got to go home now. I’m sure the others are worried about you.”

“Others?”

Judd looked back at you. “Yeah, I was – uh – training a battalion of racoons to kill my younger brother.” He groaned quietly. “Now they’re good for catering and attacking intruders, but they refused to hurt him. Got a few scars because of it.”

You chuckled quietly and shook your head. “You sure are something, alright.”

His lips upturned the slightest bit into a tiny smile. “Is that a good something?”

“Sure, we can say that.”

You opened the door for him as he started taking strides towards it. He paused right past the entryway, something sitting on his tongue. “Try not to hit any more racoons, alright?”

Your fingers drummed along the door, and you laughed. “I’ll be sure to call you if I do. Just in case.”

He was already walking away when he responded. “You have my number.”

You hesitated on shutting the door right away, choosing to listen to him begin to berate the racoon as he walked down the hall, something along the lines of, ‘you make me come out in the middle of the night, scared shitless. You could have died, you fucking cunt.” He continued as he disappeared out of sight, but you didn’t even have the heart to ask him to cover the racoon as he left, preferring to just deal with your landlords berating the next day.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

now on ao3

They've been talking online for close to six months now and Jaskier has, predictably, fallen head over heels for him. It's not his fault that Geralt is fascinating and beautiful. Not his fault that he's interested in all the hobbies Jaskier let fall dormant because he had no one to talk to about them. Not his fault that Geralt is soft and kind and hilarious without intending to be. The only problem is that Geralt will never love him the same way.

Because Jaskier is annoying. Because he doesn't know enough to carry on a full conversation, where Geralt can talk his ear off about the new species discovered at the bottom of the ocean. Because he is not funny and he is not beautiful.

But it's okay because Jaskier has had years and years to come to terms with the fact that no one will want to be with him long term. It's fine, it is. He's adjusted. So when the conversations with Geralt slowly taper off to nearly nothing, he's expecting it. It still hurts and it's still disappointing that he couldn't hold his interest, but at least he knew it was coming.

So when out of the blue, Geralt messages to say he'll be in town for the weekend Jaskier is shocked, to say the least. And when he asks if he would want to meet up for coffee, Jaskier waits a day to respond in case Geralt accidentally messaged the wrong person. And then, when he confirmed he was indeed the intended recipient and carelessly told Geralt he would love to see him, promptly launched himself into a panic attack.

Because Geralt has only ever seen his face. And, all things considered, it's a pretty good face. But Geralt has never seen his arms, splotchy red and bumpy. Geralt has never seen his legs and forearms, scarred from stress-picking. Even as he stands in front of the closet he finds himself rubbing a spot on his arm. He crosses his arms firmly, staring into the closet and he hates himself because it's his own fault he's like this.

Maybe he should cancel. It wouldn't be such a big loss anyway; Geralt would never be interested in him and maybe it's better to cut ties before he gets too attached. But a bigger part of him wants desperately to see Geralt, to meet him for real, maybe even to hug him if he's very lucky.

He picks out a long-sleeved blouse and skinny jeans with the knees ripped. It's the only part of his leg he's willing to let Geralt see and it's hot in the middle of July so he'll need some ventilation.

He still toys with the idea of cancelling, right up until he's walking out the door.

Geralt meets him outside the coffee shop and the initial meeting is… fine. Geralt is even more stunning in person and it makes Jaskier's heart ache. He tries not to think about how far away Geralt is and how incompatible they are, realistically, but it doesn't work. He lets himself get lost in Geralt's eyes, in the low timbre of his voice and the utter joy in it when he laughs. Fuck, he's really in too deep this time.

When they've finished their drinks, Geralt suggests they take a walk and Jaskier, a fool, agrees. It's only ten minutes before the hot summer sun is too much for him and he feels like he's sweating through his shirt. (As if he wasn't enough of a mess already.) He wonders if he ducked away if Geralt would miss him too badly, or if he could make an excuse to go home and cut out early.

Geralt evidently notices his discomfort and stops. They're in the middle of a busy park and Jaskier doesn't know what to do with himself. He wants to run, but he doesn't want to leave and Geralt is looking at him like he's worried and it's all too much.

"Are you okay?" Geralt asks and Jaskier nods weakly.

"A little hot," he shrugs.

"Of course you are," Geralt chuckles, "you're wearing sleeves and black jeans in the middle of July." Geralt, of course, is wearing a much more sensible t-shirt and shorts. "Why don't you just take it off, no one will mind."

He's referring, of course, to the shirt. To the only thing keeping Geralt from realizing he's not beautiful like he pretends to be. Because his arms? His legs? They're ugly. He's ugly.

So he just shakes his head and keeps walking. But when Geralt catches up again, he doesn't seem convinced. In fact, he seems concerned.

"Jaskier," he asks, just barely brushing his arm, "is something wrong. I didn't mean- I just thought you'd be more comfortable." And what the hell, Geralt is never going to love him anyway.

"I'm not-" he falters when he looks at Geralt so he drops his gaze instead, staring at the path between their feet. "I'm not beautiful. I- my arms are… I hate them."

There's a soft hand on his shoulder and Geralt guides him toward a bench, sitting him down and crouching in front of him.

"How come?"

"They're awful. I have this thing," he mutters but that's as far as he gets.

Reluctantly, he rolls up the sleeve of his blouse to reveal scarred skin. He doesn't even like to look at it. For years he has watched people in movies, desperately wishing he could have beautiful, unmarked skin, that he hadn't ruined his own body. Tears prickle at the back of his eyes and it's all he can do not to yank his arm away when Geralt touches him.

Without a word, Geralt rises to his feet and pulls his shirt over his head. Jaskier's eyes catch on his toned stomach and defined abs, completely bypassing the red rash that runs diagonally across his chest until Geralt points it out.

"Incident with some fire coral," he explains, "I was fresh out of school and thought I knew everything. I didn't." Jaskier huffs. He's trying, but Geralt's scar is interesting, it has a story. He says as much and Geralt just smiles at him.

"Then what about this one?" He pulls up the leg of his shorts to reveal a thick white scar on his thigh and Jaskier winces. "Was fucking around with my brother. He pushed me into a pond and I fell on a broken bottle. Or-" he adds, twisting to reveal a much fresher looking wound, still pink and healing, just above his hip. "I backed into a table last week at work and stabbed myself on a scalpel."

He reaches out, gently rolling Jaskier's sleeve back down and buttoning the cuff. He ducks his chin and when Jaskier looks down, he realizes Geralt is blushing.

"What?" Jaskier asks, expecting a teasing reply. Geralt just runs his hands along his forearms and looks up at him sheepishly.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers, rubbing his thumb along the inside of Jaskier's arm. "I don't want you to feel like you have to hide from me. When I messaged you, I meant to ask if you'd… if you'd want to get dinner with me, but I thought that might be too forward, so I settled for coffee. And I was going to suggest heading down to the beach, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Jaskier shrugs, unsure of what else to do because he's likely living in some fantasy land because people like Geralt don't like people like him. And they certainly don't want to take them out to dinner.

"Dinner would be nice."

"Dinner," Geralt agrees and Jaskier is shocked to find Geralt looks a little surprised, too.

"But maybe not the beach. Not this time."

"We could take a walk on the beach?" Geralt offers, "after dinner? Maybe after we find you something more comfortable to wear?"

Jaskier laughs nervously, twisting the cuff of his sleeve in his hand. "I'd like that."

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You pride yourself in being cool, calm, and collected... and then Jeon Jungkook knocks you down a peg. Well, you’re still the head Calculus I TA. The noona. The responsible one. The one who would definitely not misunderstand a situation and then end up fucking in a stairwell... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, nipple play, tit slapping, fingering, wall fucking, dirty talk); jealousy; fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin again, lol

--

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

You weren't a jealous person by nature. 

Mostly because you had no tolerance for lying, dishonesty, or deceit. In the off chance an ex cheated on you, you dropped them like hot coal and moved on, easily, without so much as a text. Was that the best way to end a relationship? Definitely not, but you did it anyway. 

It got you a notorious reputation, to say the least. 

So, why, as you're collecting the latest Calculus I exam and students are rushing down the steps to run to their next class, were you absolutely fuming as you spy Jeon Jungkook, tongue between his teeth, talking to a girl who looked like she was going to pass out from arousal by being in his vicinity? Why was your blood boiling, knuckles turning white as you clutch the obscenely thick stack of paper, your only thought being, I'm going to fail this fucking punk ass bitch, just you fucking wait–

"Do you need help?"

You turned your head sharply, missing Jungkook's teasing gaze as Kim Namjoon held his hands out, giving you a sheepish smile. Namjoon was the head Calculus III TA, but he was helping out today since the other Calculus I TAs couldn't make it. 

"No."

Namjoon's smile faltered. 

"Last time I let you carry these, you dropped them all."

Namjoon laughed sheepishly. "Ahahaha, yeah that did happen, huh?"

You felt bad for snapping at him. It wasn't Namjoon's fault Jungkook was an asshole. It was not Namjoon's fault Jungkook was looking like a goddamn meal in his untucked black dress shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy black boots, his long dark hair half-pinned back with a wispy curtain of black partly obscuring the right side of his face. Not that you cared. At all. You two fucked one time. One, very hot, very intense, very wild time during Calculus I office hours in this very math department building, a few floors above, just last week.

Did you have dreams about it?

...

You shook your head roughly, breaking out of your thoughts. "Come on. Let's go get some coffee. I'll buy," you said, softening your tone this time, grabbing your bag as you hoisted the stack with one arm. You began to walk out, Namjoon following you with his extra-thick backpack.

"I can help you grade. I have some time before my next class."

You laughed. "You, Kim Namjoon, double Literature and Music major and head TA for Calculus III and Physics II, have time?" you teased, seeing his ears turn red. 

He chuckled awkwardly as you two made your way to the vending machines. "Okay, I don't have the most time, maybe an hour, but there's a key, right? I'd like to help," he added cheerfully. "Since you're carrying it all."

You smiled and stopped in front of the vending machine, struggling to grab your wallet from the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. Your hands kept getting caught in the long sleeves of your cream sweater. You frowned, trying to balance everything. 

"Need help?" Namjoon asked, seeing your brows furrow. He reached for the stack of exams, but you pulled them away from his grasp. 

"No, no, I just can't get my wallet. It's in my back pocket."

"... Uh, I could pa–"

"Namjoon, it's an ass. Just take it out. I won't call the police."

He gave you a hesitant look, but you jerked your head impatiently.

"Fucking do it. You're making it weirder," you muttered.

He shrugged and yanked your black bifold wallet out of your back pocket. 

"Whatchu want?" You looked into the lit-up shelves, scanning. "Get me a green tea."

Namjoon opened your wallet to grab some bills. He raised his eyebrows. 

"I use the same brand myself."

"What?"

You turned your head to see him snickering, pointing to the condom in your wallet. You rolled your eyes at his immature reaction. 

"People get laid; get over it," you remarked coolly, but you were smiling anyway because Namjoon had cute dimples that made you laugh too.

He fed some money into the machine. "You should change it out every once in a while, though. Body heat can cause the latex to break down over time."

"I put it in there last week," you said absentmindedly, watching the green tea and the hot coffee Namjoon ordered plunk down. He raised his eyebrows again, but you gave him a pointed look and turned around, presenting your jean-covered butt.

"Put it back."

"What if I need a condom? Can I have it?" Namjoon sniggered.

"Put it back before I kick your ass," you shot back, turning your head to glare at him. A blur of black rushed past in your peripheral vision. Your eyes flickered to the direction of the movement at the same time Namjoon jammed your wallet in your pocket.

You turned back around, cocking your head into the direction of the offices. Namjoon carried the drinks, laughing behind you. 

"That would have been weird if anyone was around," he remarked to the deserted hallway. 

You shrugged. "Who hangs around the math department besides nerds like you and me?" you muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"Touché."

-

"You said you needed a ride," you muttered, watching Park Jimin stretch his legs out. It was already completely dark outside. Jimin always practiced such long hours that you often wondered if he slept. Did he even know what sleep was? The fine arts building was empty besides you two. 

"I do!" Jimin protested, going into a split that made your own crotch hurt, at least mentally. "But I have to cool down first. It's important!"

You sighed and slid down to the floor as Jimin did his routine. He hummed along as you stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Your backpack was in the car. You played with the pink bunny keychain on your keys as you waited. 

"How did Jungkook go?" Jimin teased, tone playful.

You scowled in response.

"Ouch, that bad huh?" Jimin's head popped into your vision as he bent over backwards. "Does he have a bent dick or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "He's fine," you mumbled. "Just an asshole."

Jimin sat down, placing the soles of his feet together and pressing on his knees. They went all the way to the floor. You winced as you watched, but he seemed fine. 

"What'd he do?" 

You twisted your mouth to one side. "Doesn't matter. Don't care."

Jimin looked up. He gave you that look mothers give their children when they know they're lying. You relented, grumbling.

"Flirting around right in front of my face."

Jimin blinked at you. "I thought you guys were just fucking?"

You looked away to the mirror of the dance studio. "... We are just fucking. Did, rather."

"Are you jealous?" Jimin gasped in disbelief, scooting over to you gleefully, forgetting about his cool down. "You are!"

"I am not, Jimin. Shut up."

Jimin giggled. "Wow, one fuck and you're in lo–"

You spun around sharply and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. Jimin's eyes widened at your sudden reaction, blinking at you. You climbed to your knees, towering over him.

"Shut up, Jimin."

"The fuck is going on?"

The clear, silvery voice thundered across the dance studio practice room. You froze, whipping your head around to see Jungkook, in all-black, his pretty features twisted in rage, glaring at you and Jimin on the hardwood floor.

Fight? 

Or flight?

You scrambled to your feet and ran. Straight up bolted, right past Jungkook, not hearing him shout at Jimin, completely forgetting you were supposed to take him home.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook roared, advancing, shoulders shaking. 

"Nothing," Jimin snapped, getting to his feet. "Just like you, apparently. Look how fucking fast she ran from you!"

Jungkook grabbed Jimin's collar, shaking him forcefully. "The fuck are you talking about?" he growled, nearly spitting in Jimin's face. "She doesn't even like me, you idiot."

"You're the idiot," Jimin spat back, shoving him hard in the chest. "She literally just admitted to liking you right in front of me!"

Jungkook froze. "W-what?"

"She just now told me she was jealous because you were chatting up other girls," Jimin hissed, looking at him disdainfully. "I would have never helped you if you were going to treat her like a piece of meat."

Jungkook's face fell, anger crumbling into sudden comprehension. "I-I didn't..."

He turned away from Jimin, dropping his car keys as he chased after you, steps much faster and lighter than your erratic stumbling though the fine arts building, nearly tripping on the stairs. You were running so fast that you were making yourself winded, chest so tight you couldn't even breathe. 

Jimin sighed and picked up the fallen car keys. 

Jungkook jumped over the stair rail, making you recoil and spin around, running back up the stairs. He took them two at a time, slamming a hand against the wall to cut you off. You turned the other way and he stopped you there too, so you ducked under, trying to run. His strong arms grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back, struggling for dear life, hands clawing at the air. 

"Stop, stop," Jungkook was panting, but you started squirming against him instead, flattening your torso to try to slide out. He forcefully grabbed your shoulders and shoved you into the wall. You hissed in pain, seeing stars from your lack of oxygen and panic. He held you there, wheezing, grip so strong it almost hurt, as if he was afraid you would run away again. 

You felt wetness on your face. You started, touching your cheek. Tears blurred your vision. Jungkook lifted his head, his long black hair tousled and wild from chasing you and, even now, he was handsome. Even now, he made your heart stop. 

And then you realized that he, too, was crying. 

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook gasped. "Asked me to d-drive him home..."

You sobbed, trying to blink your tears away. "M-me too..."

Jungkook chuckled wetly despite the situation. 

"Hah... that bastard..."

You tried to twist away, but Jungkook pushed you into the wall with his chest. 

"D-don't..."

And now you were really crying now, so pathetic, so dumb, so stupid you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, hide your face and your feelings and pretend they didn't exist. 

"Don't..." 

Jungkook's deep voice vibrated your torso as you furiously wiped your face with the sleeves of your cream sweater, stuffing your eyes with the fluffy material, trying to press them away.

"Don't cry, noona... I can't take it..."

And then he was kissing you, soft kisses on your tears, dripping his own onto your cheeks, and then your lips were on his, so full, so nice, so right, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Everything way too fucking wet, but it didn't matter because his tongue was against yours and you were sucking on it, shivering, whimpering his name, trying not to be pitiful, but what were you supposed to do when he made you feel this way, like you wanted to die in his arms right now? 

He whispered your name too, so softly, so desperately that you thought it was just a dream, but he had you against the wall, hands sliding up your sweater, onto your skin, so warm, stroking it and pressing his fingers into your waist, so familiar, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"J-Jungkook..." you choked out. "We're in the middle of the stairway in the fucking f-fine arts building..."

"Don't care," he murmured, unhooking your bra, his dark hair brushing against your face. You gasped as his palms covered your already hard nipples, his moan against your lips. "Have to remind you you're mine."

He kissed your face again, massaging your breasts, resting his cheek against yours, letting you feel his smile. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing.

"Hah... I'm so ugly right now," you mumbled, cursing your weakness, frustrated that only a single meeting with Jeon Jungkook could turn you into this. You didn't believe in stars aligning or any of that romantic bullshit. But the instant Jeon Jungkook pressed his body against yours, you fucking knew. You absolutely knew there was no other body for you, no other body you wanted to dream about, no other person you wanted to touch, no one else you wanted but Jeon Jungkook to force you to your knees and make you look at him, pulling on your nipples, whines leaving your throat as he yanked on them, your own hands pushing your sweater and bra up so he could stare at your body and watch how he ruined you, turning your nipples pink with abuse.

Were you crazy? Probably. 

Jungkook spread his legs, leaning down, dark hair half-obscuring his face, lips parting.

"So beautiful, noona..." he breathed, swallowing hard. "You're the only one for me."

You scoffed at his words, hastily wiping your eyes. He pulled at your nipples hard, twisting them and making you yelp in pain. 

"Look at me when I speak to you," Jungkook commanded, raw and deep. Voice strained from crying, but his eyes remained dark, flint-like, shaded by his long hair. His eyes traveled down your body, to your knees against the floor, to your nipples straining in his fingertips, to your shaking hands holding up your sweater, to your face, your icy glare rippling through your drying tears. He drew in a long breath, making you wait for him. 

"There is no one else," he growled firmly above you, staring into your eyes, right at your soul. "Absolutely no one. I don't care if they're ripping off their clothes and throwing themselves at me, I will always pick you over them. I will always want you over them. I will always, always desire you under me above all others."

You chuckled darkly, feeling his grip tighten. 

"We fucked once, Jungkook. Once," you muttered bitterly. He pinched your nipples sharply and you sucked in a breath, wetness pooling in your panties. 

"Once is enough," he replied firmly. "Once is enough to know there is no other human being on Earth for me."

Maybe you were both crazy. 

He yanked your nipples harder this time. Your body jerked in pain, pressing your thighs together to get some relief. 

"Get up."

You got up shakily, with his gentle pulls in your nipples, wincing. Jungkook removed his hands and you sighed in relief, only to be silenced as he pushed up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, breathless as you saw his shapely forearms, the right covered in tattoos. He pressed his right forearm against your collarbone and you released your sweater as he held it up.

"Hands on the arm."

You placed your hands on his forearm, one on his wrist and the other just under his elbow. 

"Look at me."

Your eyes flickered up at him. Part of his hair covered his right eye. The rest of his forehead was exposed, brows furrowed, brown eyes intensely on you. His chiseled jaw clenched, lips so pink and pretty you wanted them on you. Your chest was completely exposed, your red nipples hard and poking out in the cold air. 

Then he slapped your tits with his own palm. 

You gasped sharply, skin stinging, nails digging into his skin. The sound rang in the empty staircase. Your knees shook, panties wetter than before. 

"Who is he?"

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. Your nipples prickled with pain but all you could think about was wanting more. "Who?" you croaked.

He smacked you again, right on the other nipple, and you bit your tongue, head pushing into the wall behind you, hissing. Fuck. He wasn't hitting you very hard, but he had a huge palm, expanding the surface area of the sting.

"The guy who touched your ass without my permission," Jungkook snarled, flicking your nipple hard. 

Your eyelids fluttered, knees buckling. Fuck. So good. You clutched into Jungkook's arm, panting. His arm was like iron, unmoving. 

"Namjoon?" you replied, confused. "H-he was just getting my wallet."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand, slowly spanking your tits, making sure to hit your swollen, aching nipples each time, getting you wetter and wetter with each slap. 

"He wants to fuck you," Jungkook hissed into your face. 

You were moaning far too loud, rubbing your knees together, your soaked panties bunching up in your jeans as Jungkook continued, his nails gazing your flesh, leaving red marks and pink skin in his wake. 

"B-but I don't want to fuck h-him..." you managed to get out in between your moans.

Jungkook pressed his palm flat against one of your breasts and rubbed hard. Your eyes rolled back in your head, nipple throbbing with pain as he forced it around and around. 

"Really?" he sneered, putting his face close to yours as he released your breast and moved to the other, placing his nail on it, scratching lightly. Your hips bucked and a desperate whimper fell from your lips. "Who do you want to fuck then?"

Your eyes locked with his, his impossibly dark, reigning eyes. 

"Only you."

He pinched your nipple, hard. You wailed, almost falling, but he held you firm. 

"Say my name."

So deep. So in control. 

"Only you, Jungkook."

He dropped his right arm and roughly pinched both your nipples, silencing your scream with a suffocating kiss, his clothed chest ramming into your torso. You groaned into his mouth as the rough fabric of his dress shirt touched your sensitive nipples, whimpering as he removed his hands to hold yours. Held them tight as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, thrusting into it, fucking it as if it was his cock. You took it all, fingers intertwining with his, whole body shivering. 

He pulled your hands up to his chest, breaking apart for a second. 

"Take it off," he panted impatiently. "Need your skin on mine."

You fumbled with the tiny buttons, far too small with how hazy your head was right now. You were rapidly losing your temper, finally just shoving your fingers into the placket and ripping it apart, causing the black buttons to fling everywhere. You pushed the sides of the dress shirt aside, sucking in a breath seeing his toned chest and abs, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you, pressing his hot skin against yours, moaning as your abused nipples touched his chest. Jungkook was chuckling, looking at the fallen buttons.

“Are you going to pick those up later?” he asked, amused.

“No,” you snapped.

“Someone will know.”

“You obviously don’t care.”

Jungkook laughed, rumbling and sexy and so very wonderful. “I most certainly do not.”

He let you press your cheek against his collarbones, hands splayed on his back. Tracing his muscles, chest heaving from too many emotions and too much running. You ran your nails down his back. His breathing hitched and he placed a large hand on your head.

“Were you jealous?” he purred, petting your hair. “Because I was talking to that girl after class? Is that why you ran off with that Namjoon guy? To make me jealous too?”

“No,” was your haughty, tight reply.

He hummed. “Really?”

His hand slid down, down your shoulder and to your bare skin. He dug his nails into the small of your back, raking them up. You whimpered, clinging to him tighter. His head dipped low against your ear, voice dropping several octaves.

“Because I was very, very jealous,” Jungkook growled, teeth snapping, every word rousing your lust. “All I could think about all day was how to punish you. My beautiful, slutty noona.”

You sunk your nails into his back, snarling right back.

“It’s your own fault for being so fucking hot that every single person who encounters you has a full-blown orgasm every time they see you, you punk ass bitch.”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “You didn’t. You told me to leave.”

“You didn’t know what was going on in my pants,” you shot back.

“I found out, didn’t I?”

Was it possible to want to choke someone while also wanting to be choked by them? Because that’s how you felt right now, listening to Jeon Jungkook’s stupid, sexy, smug voice in your ear.

“Shut up.”

You felt Jungkook’s body stiffen. Slowly, slowly, he backed up, out of your grasp, his hands leaving your back. You frowned, narrowing your eyes. There was a darkness in his, glaring down at you through his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, no longer smiling. You didn’t waver. His hand came up and took your chin, grip tightening into your cheeks until it was uncomfortable, tipping your head back into the wall. Lips hovering over yours, so close that he could kiss you, but he wasn’t doing it.

“Okay.”

The affirmation made your blood run cold with his unforgiving tone. He placed his lips on yours, but instead of kissing you, he breathed into your mouth, a hot, erotic stream right into the back of your throat, forcing yours back, making you inhale him. You moaned softly, but he retreated just as fast, hooking one arm around you, arching your back forcefully.

“J-Jungkook, what–”

Then he latched his lips onto one of your nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand around you rubbing the other as the other gripped the button of your jeans, popping it open. You cried out, hitting your head on the wall, bruising yourself as he yanked the zipper down, shoving his hand under your panties into your tight-jeans. Your nipples for far too sensitive to take more pain and yet Jungkook gave it to you, sucking and rubbing them simultaneously as he shoved one, two fingers into your slopping wet pussy, your moans echoing in the stairway as you stared up, head throbbing. Shocks of pain and pleasure traveled throughout your body, and still he shoved a third finger into you. Your body jerked, trying to spread your legs to accommodate him but your jeans were too tight and he was fucking you too hard, each thrust raising you to your tiptoes. He didn’t even have to stimulate your nipples anymore – they were just rubbing against his teeth and hand by the sheer force of him fingering you.

“A-ah, J-Jungkook, please…” you groaned, grinding into his hand, biting your lower lip hard to try and be a little quieter. “P-please, it’s t-too much...”

His eyes flickered up to you, glaring. You told me to shut up, they said.

“I’m s-sorry…” you panted out, gritting your teeth. “P-please…”

Jungkook detached his mouth, curling his lip. Hand leaving your nipple, tangling into your hair. “Are you really sorry, noona?” he drawled, yanking your head back and exposing your neck. “Are you?”

You whimpered, nodding tightly, his hand still in your hair, forcing you to tug on your own.

“Y-yes, Jungkook,” you breathed, feeling him release your hair. “I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you, an icy smile.

“That’s good.”

You felt him yank your pants down with his free hand, shoving them down to your knees. You almost tripped, but Jungkook grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into you so hard you were sure they would leave marks. He yanked you up, shoving a knee between yours and forcing your legs open. Your eyes went wide, his three fingers flexing inside you. His dark eyes boring into yours, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m still going to put another finger in you.”

He shoved a fourth into you, forcefully, and now nearly his entire hand was fucking you, pounding you into the wall. Your arms flew up to wrap around his shoulders, desperately holding on as he filled you, pushing his fingers against your walls. You gasped, clenching around his fingers, and Jungkook grinned, watching your face as he pushed you to the edge, feeling so stretched out, so embarrassingly wet that the sounds of your pussy were louder than your noises.

“Fuck, your pussy sounds so sexy,” Jungkook groaned. “Listen to that dirty pussy suck in my fingers, so fucking desperate for my cock.”

You shoved your head against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut, legs straining as you came, muscles spasming and the moan of his name racking through you, your throat already hoarse. He ripped his hand out of you and slapped your clit. Your knees buckled and you whined loudly as he gripped your ass with one wet and one dry hand, spreading it forcefully, pressing you against the wall.

“Take one leg out of your jeans,” Jungkook snarled.

You winced, pussy throbbing, giving him a what-the-fuck look.

“Do it.” He was not going to repeat himself.

You awkwardly kicked one of your sneakers off, untangling your right leg out of your pants. Now you were mostly naked in the fucking stairway with an almost shirtless Jungkook towering over you. Your poor sock fluttered to the floor, lost due to the tight ankle of your skinny jeans.

Jungkook grabbed your calf and pushed it up and out, effectively forcing you to stand on one leg.

“Jungkook, what–”

He hissed, staring at your glistening, puffy, red pussy lips, your hole opening and closing from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

Jungkook leaned you back into the wall, snaking his hand between your legs, moaning with you as he touched your swollen clit. Slow, languid, deliberate, rubbing your clit in circles, melting you, your eyelids fluttering closed at his sudden sweet movements.

“Wanna fuck you just like this,” Jungkook breathed, inhaling your scent. “Just like this, against the wall, in this fucking stairway, your leg around my waist.” He pressed harder, earning a wretched whimper. “Want someone to find us and see you bouncing on my cock, fucked out and screaming my name.”

Your legs trembled, trying to close, but he held them open, teasing you, drawing your next orgasm out of you, slow this time, building you into a frenzy.

“Just do it,” you gasped. “Just fucking do it.”

“I want to,” he hissed back, rubbing faster. “I didn’t bring a fucking condom.”

You chuckled despite yourself, hips shuddering into his hand. “Didn’t think you were going to fuck Jimin or something?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you and pinched your clit. Instantly you yelped, your standing knee buckling, but his own slammed against yours, locking it in place. You gasped at the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as he furiously rubbed your clit. Your insides curled and you gulped for air, feeling the pain and pleasure rise into a crescendo.

“What if I stop, noona?” Jungkook barked sharply. “Since you’re being such a fucking brat.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to push back your own orgasm, relishing in his anger.

“I have a condom,” you panted, giving him an open-mouthed smirk. “Keep one in my wallet now, j-just for you, Jungkook.”

You saw something in his eyes change, something between an amused sparkle and an agonizing lust.

“Is that so?” Jungkook purred, bringing his face close to yours. His breath lit your skin on fire, the tense knot closing in on you fast as he rubbed you even faster, so fast that it felt like a vibrator on your aching clit. “So, you can always be prepared for me? So, I can take you wherever, whenever I want?”

You bit your lip, nodding, eyes glazing over as the first wave crashed on you.

“Fuck yeeeeees, Jungkook, whatever you fucking want,” you moaned, back arching, legs shuddering, letting him rub you as your hips jerked. Viscous liquid dripping down your thighs, pussy pulsating wetly, hands flat against the wall. He was going to be the death of you, making you agree to such crazy things in the middle of your fucking orgasm.

Jungkook let go of your leg. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, pretty sure all this was going to get you expelled. Even if there was no one in the building, someone down the street probably heard you by now with how loud this was becoming. You heard rustling under you, Jungkook going through your pockets on the floor to find your wallet, pulling out the condom.

“You’re actually insane,” you panted, blinking slowly as you watched Jungkook unzip his jeans, shoving them down. “I can’t even stand.”

Fuck, even just him pulling out his half-hard cock was already getting you wet again. Jungkook smirked at you, seeing your eyes on him. He stroked the length slowly, running his large hand over it. You frowned at him, tapping your hand against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m giving you a break,” he murmured, staring at your body as he gripped his cock, pumping once. He gasped, breathing your name.

“At least let me touch it,” you pouted, not even sure how you were still upright. Just pure lust, apparently.

Jungkook looked at you through his lashes, lips parting, tongue darting between them. He thrust his hips into his hand. You stiffened, seeing his wanton, arrogant expression. He wasn’t going to let you touch it. He was going to make you watch, frustrated, as he stroked himself to full hardness.

“Jungkook…”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, rolling his body into his hand, moaning softly.

“Jungkook, please…”

His tongue danced between his lips, moving his hand up and down slowly, rocking his hips into his cock, enjoying your pleading tone, your hands clenching into fists, your body heaving at the loss of him.

“Jungkook, come on,” you whined, spreading your legs, watching the angry red head disappear and reappear in the curve of his fingers. “I want you. Please.”

He took a step towards you, still stroking himself. “Yeah?” he breathed. Another step. And another. He still didn’t tell you that you could touch him yet, so you kept your hands at your sides, switching between his dark, lustful eyes and his rapidly hardening cock thrusting into his hand. “You want me, noona? You want to touch my cock?”

And now Jungkook was right next to you, still jacking himself off, the velvety, thick head rubbing against the smooth skin of your thigh. You moaned as you felt his pre-cum smearing onto your skin, adding to his lubrication.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, eyes glued to his cock rubbing against your fucking leg. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth so bad. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, his dark locks brushing against your cheek. His voice was a deep drawl, low and teasing, breath hot against your skin.

“Tell you what,” Jungkook purred. “I’ll let you put the condom on.” You whimpered, disappointed. “And then I’ll fuck you against this wall, nice and hard and fast, not stopping until I cum because of that delicious, sweet, tight pussy of yours.”

If you had any sanity left, it rapidly disappeared as you nodded hastily, wordlessly holding out your hands as Jungkook dropped the condom in your palm. He calmly removed his hand, his thick, fully hard cock erect as you slid the condom down, moaning as you felt the traces of his veins and muscle pulsing under your hands. Once you were done, Jungkook pushed your hands away, not giving you a chance to disobey him.

You pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

He grinned at you, lifting your leg and pinning it to your chest. “And you’re about to get fucked.”

In less than a second, Jungkook thrust his hips up and into you, tearing a gasp from your throat as he rapidly entered you, peeling apart your soaking, abused walls. You bit your tongue, grabbing his dress shirt as he rolled his hips into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him.

“That’s it, noona,” he exhaled, slamming his hips into you. “You better fucking hold me tight. If I slip out, that’s all the fucking you’ll get from me.”

You whined, feeling him start a bruising pace, hands clamped onto your ass. Whether he was lying or not didn’t matter because you were squeezing your pussy for dear life, crying out as he thrust into you over and over, so full and overstimulated you didn’t know whether to focus on your aching, raw pussy or his cock periodically throbbing inside you, swelling against your walls.

You hooked your leg around his waist, changing the angle, instantly feeling him ram his cock into a deeper, more pleasurable spot. You tipped your head back, eyes rolling up into your head as your mouth opened, tongue sliding out. He pounded you relentlessly, your shoulder blades smacking the wall. Your swollen clit rubbed against the base of his cock repeatedly. Your body was going to ache all over tomorrow, but you still rose your hips to meet his, so drunk on the feeling of his cock stretching you out that nothing else mattered. You came suddenly, wailing Jungkook’s name, pussy spasming and squeezing him but he set his jaw and fucked you even harder, using every ounce of his energy to keep his own orgasm at bay.

“Who owns this body, noona?” he ground out. “Tell me, who owns this fucking body?”

You had to claw for your words, throat so strained your voice was thin. “Y-you do, Jungkook, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled. “If you cum, it’s for me and only me. No. One. Else.” He punctuated each word by slapping his hips into you, sliding you up into the wall so gravity crashed you back down onto his cock. You moaned, helpless, as he hissed, shoving his face into your tits to moan hotly into your chest as he came, violent, thick jerks of his cock shuddering into you. Quickly, he gripped your hips and pulled up, hissing as half of his cock slid out, cum leaking out of the bottom of the condom and splatting onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

You could barely register anything as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, cursing loudly. Jungkook leaned against the wall with one shoulder, panting, the other half-carrying you, arm wrapped around your waist. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the fact that your bare ass was in the air and your pants were hanging off one leg.

“Jungkook,” you croaked. “Let me down.”

He lowered you, still leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His hair covered almost his whole face, sweaty and glistening. He wiped some sweat off his chin with the back of his hand, flicking it away carelessly.

You pressed your back flat against the wall, using at as leverage to pull your pants back up, wincing at the now familiar cold feeling of your soaked panties meeting your abused pussy. You crouched to collect your sock and your shoe, wincing as pain radiated up your back.

Jungkook chuckled, watching you struggle with your sneaker. “Want help?”

You grunted, shoving it on. “Can we stop fucking in random ass places at school?”

“You said I could fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want,” he teased, giving you an open-mouthed smirk.

You readjusted your bra, putting it back on. You found the two bits of condom wrapping, shoving it in your pocket. “I did, but I want to see you fully naked for once, you punk.”

Jungkook laughed, rich and full. “I support this idea if you’re also fully naked.”

You made a face as you got up, trying to keep your steps steady so you didn’t seem like a drunk idiot. Or someone who just got railed by Jeon Jungkook.

“Give me the condom.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I was going to drop it here. Mark my territory.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took it from him as he extended his hand out. “Your buttons did that for you already,” you remarked, tying it up.

He smirked, zipping up his jeans. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“And you owe me new panties, again,” you shot back. “Where are my replacements?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to push it back. Fuck. Open shirt, half-exposed forehead, smug-as-fuck Jungkook got you wet just by looking at him.

“Guess we should go shopping sometime.”

He smiled slyly, patting his pockets. His expression abruptly changed to confusion. He pulled out his wallet and phone, frowning. “Where are my car keys?” He furrowed his brow, looking at his phone. You found your keys and wallet still with you, surprised that they didn’t fall out of your pants. You phone was in your backpack, still in your car. He swiped at his phone, reading his messages.

Jungkook groaned. “I dropped them and Jimin took my car. Bastard.”

Fuck, his fucking deliciously toned and tan chest was distracting you. “I still have my keys,” you muttered, staring at his abs. Suddenly you started, realizing he was advancing on you.

“Oh?” Jungkook purred, opening his shirt wider. The fabric tumbled off his right shoulder, exposing his tattoos. His long dark hair covered part of his right eye, brown orbs glimmering with mischief.

“Wanna take me home, noona?”

Welp.

-

part iii

--

masterpost

[suguruverse]

hi i’m crying because my bf said something that made me insecure and just didn’t make an effort to help me feel better, can you write a comfort fic about any character lol just reassuring reader that they’re pretty lmao i love you :,)

— BOKUTO REASSURING THEIR S/O ABOUT THEIR LOOKS

includes - bokuto koutaro

a/n - omg bubs :(( i’m so fucking sorry about what happened ugh i chose character that i felt would be the best people to go to for reassurance and comfort so i hope this made your situation a little bit better. pls never forget how beautiful you are i love you so much <33 also i kinda went a lil off topic but i still included the reassurance part and i hope this himbo was able to brighten your day just a little bit :))) if you didn't like the character, you could always send me another ask to just change the character <33

[6:27]

fuck, it was only 3 minutes until your boyfriend would come pick you up for a date and here you were sitting on the cold bathroom floor, your makeup completely ruined with the amount of tears rolling down your face. dresses, pants, shirts, and makeup brushes were all thrown around the ground, and you were sitting in the middle of it. all you wanted was one night to look pretty for your boyfriend, just one night for you not to look like this.

your doorbell rang, but you made no movement to go and answer it. you couldn't let bokuto see you like this. he was no doubt the most sweetest and perfect man you've ever dated. too perfect. so perfect that most of the time you didn't see yourself fit in the equation. he had hopes and dreams that he would no doubt achieve. he was on the fast track to a rich and successful life. but what about you?

"baby i won't leave you no matter what" lies. "WAHH baby you're so pretty" lies. "can't believe you're all mine, aren't i the luckiest guy ever" no you're not. bokuto speaks fluent reassurance, he can make you feel as if you're on cloud 9 and the most prettiest girl in the world, but sometimes you don't understand how blind your boyfriend can be sometimes. you felt suffocated.

your doorbell began to ring at a constant speed, undoubtly, your boyfriend becoming impatient about how long you were taking. through the massive pile of clothes, you tried to search your phone, in an attempt to try cancel the date, albeit a little too late for that, since bokuto was right outside your door. but no matter how much you tried, you couldn't stand up.

you: sorry kou, i don't think i'll be able to go

kou baby: hm? something happen baby?

kou baby: do you want your big strong handsome boyfriend to help you?

kou baby: what's wrong honey bun?

you: sick

kou baby: OH NO MY POOR BABY, I'LL GET SOME FOOD AND MEDICINE AND WILL BE RIGHT BACK

kou baby: DON'T EVEN LIFT A FINGER

'shit', you thought. it seems as if seeing him is unavoidable. at this point you were at rock bottom with no signs of getting any better. does he even love me? shutup. he does. a bath, maybe that would make the weight on your chest magically disappear. the warmth surrounded you in a way that you haven't felt a long time.

you didn't even realise that you fell asleep, you don't even remember the last time you slept, so by the time you woke up, covered by a fluffy blanket and pajamas on, you panicked. you sat up, and drank from the cup of water that was left on your dresser. did i leave that there? a large thud came from your living room and instantly remembered about your date with your boyfriend. [8:56] your clock read. 'shit' you thought. another bang came from your living room and you hesitantly got up to look at what was happening.

you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, his body clad in a black suit, seemingly setting up candles and your favourite take-out on your small dining table. for someone so carefree, he was being so meticulous, making sure the knifes and forks were straight and facing the right way, wiping down the plates for the fifth time, using your favourite candle that he knows helps you keep calm. you didn't even know what came over you, bursting into tears that you didn't even know that you had left. your cries were not left unheard by bokuto who immediately panicked after seeing your tear stained face and swept you into his arms, bringing back that warmth in your body. being in his arms just felt so right.

"my pretty baby.. what's wrong my love?"

"what are you doing here kou?"

"well you said you were sick, and i just had to come to your rescue, i used your spare key if you don't mind. i found you asleep in the tub and got a little bit scared. y'know me, a big scaredy cat. but i dried you off and put you to bed"

hearing his words just made you cry even harder. he did so much for you and you couldn't even show up to one stupid date. no matter how hard you tried to fight back the tears, it just kept coming and your boyfriend never let you go. even after a solid 15 minutes of you staining his suit with tears, he never once stopped holding you, kissing the crown of your head and rubbing your head.

"m sorry kou... i'm sorry... i'm so sorry kou"

"hey hey hey, no need to apologise pretty girl, i understand, it's okay to cry, i'm the one who should be apologising for not checking up on you sooner"

"not your fault kou, i was just so tired"

"tired of what pretty girl?"

"not being enough for you kou... i'm tired of not being pretty enough, skinny enough... i just wanna be good enough for you"

"but you are baby, always have been, always will be, i don't care about your looks or weight, as long as it's you, i'm happy"

"how can you even be so happy with me, happy with going out in public with me?"

"because i love you baby, and i want everyone to know how much i love you, because at the end of the day, you're the one i chose, you're the one that makes me the happiest in the world, you're the one whom i want to spend the rest of my life with. so stop with these tears baby, you're stuck with me until we're old and wrinkly"

"but kou, i just feel like you could have done so much better than me you know?...someone more interesting and fun"

"baby, are you not listening to me? i love you, so so so so so much, no matter what. to me, you're the prettiest, most beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, irresistable, charming and angelic person i have ever met. and i don't care what anyone says, you're my soulmate, and i would sell my soul to be able to even meet you in my next life. i would give up anything for you to stay by my side for all of eternity, because i love you. understand?"

"mhm, i love you"

"and i love you more princess, NOW LET'S EAT, I WENT TO YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE, YOU MUST BE HUNGRY"

your boyfriend did not even hesitate to dig in, and you were mesmerised on how quickly he was able to comfort you so well.

"baby? you still sad? why are you just watching me eat, you should eat too, while it's still warm, CAN I FEED YOU? SAY AHH"

and as you went through the night with your boyfriend, it never occurred to you more than right now, bokuto koutaro was your soulmate.

fin.

[homerforsure]

for the Fun Fact Prompts ! why are you in a tree?

Dear Anon! It's more of a first line prompt than a fun fact prompt, but given that I instantly knew the second line of this as soon as I read the first, I'll allow it.

This got very silly and very far away from me, so the bulk of it is under the cut <3

“Why are you in a tree? No, wait, wait don’t tell me. K-I-S-S-I-N-G?”

“Maddie, can you focus please?” Buck whines into the phone. “We’re stuck.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she laughs. “Tell me again. Where are you guys?”

Buck explains their location in the park, the fallen ladder, and Maddie agrees to come and rescue them as soon as she can.

“Of all the times for Albert not to answer his phone,” Buck grouses as he shifts on the tree branch to get his own back into his pocket. “He wouldn’t show up and sing at us.”

“Sing?” Eddie asks.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Did she say how long-?”

“Just whenever she can. She’s gonna have to pack the baby up so we could be here for hours. You didn’t have anywhere to go right?”

“Me? No. Sitting in an oak tree was my only plan for the day.”

“Sorry,” Buck winces.

It's his fault that they’re stuck. It started with a kite. A big blue one lodged high in the branches of a tree that he spotted when he was biking through the park. A couple of kids were standing below it, looking up with sad expressions and making valiant efforts to boost each other up onto the lower branches. The tree was too big for them though, the branch too far from the ground. Buck had slowed to a stop beside them.

The branch was out of reach for him too, even when leaning his bike against the tree and trying to climb up on the seat. Fortunately the park had a concession stand--closed now, open just for little league games--and the stand had a ladder leaning against the side of the building. It was nothing for Buck to jog over and loosen the rusted brackets holding the ladder in place, then to brace it against the tree and start climbing.

The tree was full of sturdy branches, easy enough to climb. He just… needed to find a route. The kite was further up than it had looked from the ground, tangled in leaves and dangerously far out on the limb.

As Buck stood contemplating, another strong breeze had come through (it was perfect kite flying weather after all), making him wobble on the branch and sending his ladder crashing to the ground.

The kids had shrieked and run off without their kite, completely ignoring Buck’s pleas to just put the ladder back and then vanished over the nearest hill. The stiff wind and unseasonably cool weather had left the park more deserted than usual and Buck had had to swallow his pride and call Eddie who only laughed at him a little.

That wind blows hard again, chilling Buck through his training jersey and making the branches sway. He reaches up to grab the branch overhead, trying to feel a little more stable and Eddie reaches out toward him automatically, even though he’s too far away to reach. The other man is sitting against the trunk of the tree, leaning back, serene and stable, as though he’s on the ground and not 10 feet in the air.

“You were wrong, you know,” Buck says, once he has his balance back.

One of Eddie’s eyebrows quirks up as if to say, Wrong? Me?

“You could never have gotten up there from the other way.”

“Well it’s not like your way worked out that much better.”

When his boyfriend (and wow did that term send shivers up and down Buck’s spine every time he thought it, new and fresh as it still is) had turned up at the park, he’d righted the ladder immediately, expecting Buck to climb back down. Instead, knowing he had a stable route down, Buck had turned his attention back up toward the kite and called back that he’d be down in just a minute.

“Which way are you going?” Eddie had asked. So Buck had pointed out the route to him.

“No. No way. You’re gonna get stuck at that skinny branch and you’ll never make it. You’ve got to go up the other way.”

“What other way?”

Eddie pointed it out and Buck scoffed, “Now that’s ridiculous. You’re not even going to be able to reach it from there.”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie had said.

So now they were both stuck on the branch, kiteless.

“You should come over here,” Eddie says, frowning as the wind shakes the tree again and Buck holds on against the sway. “The branch doesn’t move as much.”

“You worried about me?” Buck asks, smirking over at Eddie who just rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a secret anymore, Buck. You breaking your spine is going to seriously fuck with my weekend plans.”

His weekend plans with Buck. The two of them alone. For the first time since Eddie had pinned Buck against his kitchen counter and kissed him senseless. If Buck had ever had any incentive to stay out of the hospital it was for this promise of whatever Eddie wanted to do next.

“Well I’d hate to do that,” he says, looking over at Eddie through his lashes with faux remorse. “I already ruined your afternoon.”

“Will you just get your ass over here?” Eddie replies, trying not to look ridiculously pleased as he holds out his arm to coax Buck over.

Buck needs very little coaxing. He stands because it’s easier than scooting, walking the tightrope of the tree branch until he’s directly beside Eddie, then dropping down again. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Eddie replies.

It’s dangerous to let himself get distracted when he’s perched so precariously, but Buck can’t help it. With his right hand reached overhead to grab the next branch for balance, he holds out his left for Eddie to take. That Eddie does without hesitation, that he squeezes tight, that he smiles at Buck with that soft, happy smile he doesn’t give to anyone else, still feels like a precious gift. It’s so new, what they have. Buck wants to melt into every moment. Cherish it like it may never come again.

“So,” Eddie says, running his thumb over the back of Buck’s hand. “How do people kiss in trees do you think? It seems pretty dangerous to me.”

Humming as though he’s giving the matter serious thought, Buck says, “A tree house probably makes the most sense.”

“Sure. If you were smart enough to plan ahead. But if you weren’t…”

“If you weren’t,” Buck says, taking his hand back so he can move again, carefully, carefully swinging one leg over so he’s straddling the branch. “I think there’s still a few options. You should, uh, get as close to the trunk as you can. With your back to it, probably.”

Once he’s sure that Buck’s stable, Eddie takes the instruction, using that taller branch to lift himself up just a little, turning, shifting one leg over the branch like Buck has, and settling back against the tree trunk. At the stoutest part of the branch, Eddie almost has a stable seat, though he still crosses his legs tightly below the branch to hold his position. “I can see how this would work,” he says. “If you were careful.”

“Oh careful is the most important thing,” Buck says, inching forward, hand over hand above his head. “It helps to have a strong partner. One who won’t let you fall.”

When he reaches Eddie, he keeps his knees pressed close to the branch so he can try and fit himself between Eddie’s legs, so they can get as close as possible. Buck sees Eddie’s eyes flash with concern when he moves his hands from the branch down onto Eddie’s shoulders and immediately feels one strong arm behind his back.

“One hand on the branch,” Eddie says, his breath close enough to tickle Buck’s ear. “Please.”

“Chicken,” Buck says, lifting his left hand again to clutch the branch.

“Daredevil,” Eddie replies, lifting his own hand and clutching Buck’s fingers over their heads.

“You like it,” Buck teases, unable to stop himself from grinning as he stares into Eddie’s eyes to see exactly how much he does.

“You’re awfully full of yourself.”

“You like that too. You pretend like you’re so mature and by the book, but you like me getting you all riled-”

The rest of his sentence is lost to Eddie’s mouth on his. Buck gives himself over to it immediately, letting Eddie’s firm hand on his back push him forward just a little bit more. He lets his own arm slide behind Eddie’s neck, feeling the bark bite into him on one side and Eddie’s soft hair tickling on the other. Buck loses himself to it, quickly losing his balance as he does and he squeezes tightly to Eddie’s hand anchoring him in place.

“I like all of it,” Eddie whispers, once they pull apart. “I like you.”

Buck has just enough time to enjoy the little shiver that those words send through all his nerves before Eddie’s kissing him again. The chill of the wind, the height from the ground, even the uncomfortable feel of the branch beneath them all fades into the background. Eddie’s kissing him and Buck’s as secure as he’s ever been.

It’s only Maddie’s voice that pulls them out of the moment, sing-songing from the bottom of the tree as she lifts their ladder, “Buck and Ed-die, sittin’ in a tree…”

If you know any fun facts, send them to me and I'll see if I can't make a ficlet out of it!

[pianorexic000]

Sweetspo Saturday

Hi y’all, so today is sweetspo Saturday.......

it speaks for itself. By the way, none of these are mine. I take no credit I have 0 creativity.

I dream of collarbones and thigh gaps, of hips jutting out and ribs just visible, casting shadows on porcelain flesh. I dream of crop tops and denim shorts, of thigh highs and sugar highs. And when I lay in bed at night, counting the calories of the day before my mind can’t help but wander, and I press into my doughy stomach, feel the hips hiding underneath, and remind myself how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go.

Please listen, I know, I know it’s hard but listen, focus, you, you the most beautiful person on this whole entire planet you are going to make it, I promise you sweetheart, you’re going to make it. Think about it, think about how skinny you’ll be, how happy you will be, how you are going to be able to wear what you want, how you are going to be able to eat what you want and no one is going to make you feel bad for eating, no one. They’re going to be jealous, so fucking jealous, jealous of how you look and how you feel. They’re going to envy you. So stand up, keep your pretty head up and go. Exercise, drink water, eat less, eat healthy, sleep, do yoga, dance around. Get skinny and be finally happy. Please be finally happy.

You’ve been so disappointed in yourself lately. You’ve cursed those girls with a fast metabolism and regretted so much, sweetie. Countless of times you’ve thought, planned and wished to be skinny. I know you want this so badly, honey. But it’s never going to be given to you, sugar. You have to work for it and make yourself proud! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I know you’re very impatient with your weight-loss. You want to lose it NOW and would do anything to wake up tomorrow at you ugw. But that’s never going to happen, doll. It’ll take time, but you will get there, sweetie. You just have to be persistent and never give up. The road is very long, and there will be days where it’ll feel hopeless, angel. But i promise you that those days where you feel incredibly sexy and comfortable in your own skin are just around the corner. You’ll get there baby, but it’ll take time. So don’t beat yourself up.

You’ll look good in everything; you remember that bikini with the cute print? yes, you’ll look beautiful in it. you won’t look like a fat pig.

people will be jealous; they’ll envy you. you’ll become thinner while others are getting fatter.

you’ll be dainty; you’ll be the lightest in the room. everyone will be able to pick you up effortlessly.

others will compliment you; people will look at you and say “wow, have you lost weight?” “you look great!” “i wish i looked like you.”

you won’t be able to keep more than a cup of food down; you’ve trained your body, you and your body both know its limits.

you’ll have power; you can can control how you look, you’ll have control. self control instead of eating everything in sight. you’ll be proud when you refuse a chocolate bar someone is offering.

are you going to keep saying “i’ll do it tomorrow”

or are you going to start today?

you’ll get there sweetie, make them regret the day they dare call you fat; they’ll start talking GOOD behind your back; “she is losing so much weight omg” “ i wanna look like her.” “im so jealous of her tiny waist.”

make it happen, you cause the gain of weight

and the loss of weight.

It's Okay!

You were really bad this weekend weren’t you? You ate fatty food and cheated on your diet? I know you bash yourself for pushing yourself further from your goal, but it was just Easter and you were enjoying spending time with your family. Unfortunately that included eating. Thin is all you think about cutie, why would you stuff your face uncontrollably like that, sugar? You can’t stop now, i know it’s hard but it’ll be worth it in the end.

Meanspo

Dear You,

You’ve grown up being the “big” girl. You’ve grown up being the “I want seconds” girl. You entered college being the “let’s eat out because it’s easier” girl.

When will you be the “I eat healthy” girl? The “people can pick me up” girl? The “I love my body” girl?

Today? Oh, right, you say tomorrow. Funny, that’s what you said yesterday.

It’s YOUR fault you’re fat. You don’t control your fatty urges to binge and stuff your face. One day, you’ll regret that. And that day is TODAY. If you regret it, then make a change. Skip that meal. Eat less calories. Exercise and burn what you have consumed and stored from your past pathetic eating habits. Get rid of your fatty urges. BECOME SKINNY…Become beautiful. Because if you don’t start today, you’ll only hate yourself tomorrow… again.

Do it. Do it so you can wear cute short shorts without everyone looking at your thighs and being disgusted.

Do it for that bitch who always called you fat at middle school.

Do it for that fuckboy who never looked at you as girlfriend potencial.

Do it so you can be confident.No seriously you’ll never be confident with that big tummy dude.

Do it so you don't ALMOST DIE in fitting rooms.

Do it for the cute clothes.

Do it for the summer.

Do it for the pool parties and how all of your friends will be SHOOK at your perfect body.

Do it for that life little baby. You deserve it. You deserve so much happiness.

Imagine you’re sitting at your desk in your perfectly decorated bedroom. You’re doing school work (all A’s of course), and since the lighting is good, you stop studying for a second and take a selfie.

You notice your collarbones are perfectly peaking out, and your chest bones are slightly visible. You have no makeup on but you still look absolutely gorgeous. Your flawless skin (that you got from not eating junk food all the time) looks great on your camera. Your thin arms look especially toned in this picture, and your smile is unforgettable.

You decide to post it to Instagram, and it instantly gets likes and comments saying how gorgeous you look. You want to keep studying…but the amount of likes and attention is distracting!

You think to yourself “Amazing how my life has changed. 30lbs ago I barely got 30 likes. My grades were bad and I had horrible acne…it’s so great what being thin can do to a person”

One day I won’t have to suck in

One day I’ll sit down and not have belly rolls

One day my thighs won’t touch

One day I’ll be able to see my ribs

One day I’ll step on the scale and smile

One day I’ll be able to smile at my protruding collar bones

One day I’ll wear the clothes I want

One day I’ll be confident

One day I’ll be skinny

do it for the boy who leaves your snapchats at read. imagine how quickly he’ll reply when he sees how good you look in your new body. do it for the girls you envy, the girls who show up in crop tops and short shorts whilst you hide behind a baggy sweater. imagine how proud you’ll feel when you can finally wear what you want and look just as good, if not better than them. do it for the people who bullied you about your weight and the boys who turned you down because of it. watch them gawk and whisper among themselves at how much weight you’ve lost. do it for the mean girls, the ones that walk around school like they own the place, the ones who’s parties you never get invited to, the ones that all the boys want. prove yourself to them. soon they’ll notice you and you’ll be too proud to care. own your new found confidence, throw your own parties, feel wanted. do it for the boy you’ve been crushing on since the first time you met. make him want you just as you wanted him. laugh at yourself as he chases after you. watch him suffer just as you did. do it for the bikini you’ve never had the body to wear. make your old self proud. wear that bikini. finally feel good in it. go to the beach and the pool and show it off. it belongs on you. do it for yourself. do it for your own happiness and do it right now. you deserve this. it might take some time and maybe you’re growing impatient. but it’s okay, everything good takes time. so be safe, stay strong, and don’t give up. this will be worth the wait. trust me.

I literally cannot fucking wait until I’m thin. I can’t wait to not feel like the outsider in my friend group. I can’t wait to not feel like the ugly friend. I can’t wait to be as thin as my best friend and for people to not see me as a charity case. I can’t wait to be able to go shopping and not worry about what will hide my fat. I can’t wait to see my collarbones and feel great in shorts. I can’t wait to be able to post selfies confidently from any angle and get as many likes as all the thin girls from school. I can’t wait to be someone else’s thinspo. I can’t wait to be happy with myself. I can’t wait to be thin.

Okie lovey, I know you might have had a rough couple of days or maybe you’ve been doing everything right and you just need a little pick me up. That’s okay too. I’m here for you, maybe not there physically but I’m still here. Make some tea, and take a bath; while you’re in there light a few candles and take time for yourself. Paint your nails read a book or simply think about bettering yourself. You’re almost there, I’m so excited for you! I’m going to be there when you cross that finish line (UGW). Finished with tea? Are you hungry? No. Exactly, chin up sweetheart, you got this. I love you

10 Reasons I want to be Thin

1. A flat stomach looks so good in anything. 2. No more armpit fat. 3. Finally have a thigh gap (again). 4. Feel beautiful and in control 5. people you already know will ask you how you did it, new people you meet will fall in love with you. 6. Go on adventures and have fun without worrying about your fat jiggling around. 7. Tan outside or at the lake without wanting to die because you’re too fat for a bikini. 8. Going out to parties and making friends because you’re confident and beautiful. 9. Not wanting to cry every time you see your full body in a mirror/ reflection. 10. Not crying in general anymore. Finally being happy.

11 Reasons Why I'm Doing This

1. To be the skinny friend

2. So I can be lifted up and be called light

3. To wear anything and still look cute

4. To have pretty bones to show off

5. To hear those words; ‘Have you lost weight?’

6. To not feel guilty when having a sweet treat (occasionally!)

7. To wear tight jeans and not have a muffin top

8. To not want to cry every time I look in the mirror

9. To not feel embarrassed in a bikini or swimsuit

10. To sit on someone’s lap without fear of crushing them

11. To finally feel happy with myself

They are in the kitchen making dinner. It smells so good, and all you want to do is have some. But would that make you happy? Would that food actually do anything for you? Sure, it would taste good. But as soon as you swallow, it would be gone. You’d take a drink of water, and the taste would wash away. Five minutes of fun, and then you’d be full. Full of food, regret, hate, shame, and disgust. Today would be yet another day wasted. So go ahead, eat the food. Be the fat tub of lard you always have been. Or don’t. Don’t eat the food. Be a day closer to your goal.

The choice is yours.

[baraqi]

adding my two cents abt the sunoo situation bc i didn’t wanna bring it up on his bday + i’m an overweight shawty (tw for disordered eating thoughts n stuff like that)

idc if they make those remarks to him in private if sunoo really doesn’t care. we’ll never know unless he says himself which prolly won’t happen lol. but what i do have a problem with is that this is not the first time they’ve made comments abt his weight for the world to see. i see a bunch of ppl being like “well it’s a cultural thing they don’t know better” it’s still inconsiderate. i don’t think the other members should be getting d3ath thr3ats over it but they should know better. they aren’t children, most of them are adults, and should know better.

this whole thing has taken a bit of a toll on me honestly. ever since the sunjay graduation live where jay brought it up, it def rubbed me the wrong way. but the most recent instance did it for me idk why. since then i have been feeling a bit more self conscious and paranoid abt my eating than i did before. i’ve had this problem before but it resurfaced. i’ve been picked on by peers and my family (mostly family) for my body/eating, i hate clothes shopping bc nothing fits and it ruins my day (all my friends are skinny too so when we go in american eagle or smth i just stand there), i can’t eat in front of ppl unless i trust them, it’s an instinct to suck in my stomach when i’m in public, i dread doctors appointments bc they constantly act like i’m so obese i’m gonna die bc i’m 200 pounds and last time i checked. i come home from check ups crying most of the time. i feel like i gain weight with every bite i eat of anything. the scale in my house is dead which is probably for my own good bc i’d be checking every few hours if it wasn’t. i’m not tryna sit here and be like “enha brought my disordered eating back🙄🫵” bc no tf they didn’t it’s not their fault. their words affected me bc of my current situation/past experiences but that can’t be said for everyone. but it’s annoying to see a bunch of ppl being like “everybody’s so overdramatic it’s not that serious” just bc it’s not serious for them.

i still love them all but i’d be lying if i said this didn’t leave a dent in how i see them. if i’m able to see them in concert, i wanna try and lose weight bc damn if sunoo’s fat to them then i’m a fucking cow fr. i already feel ashamed of how i look so what if one of them sees me n thinks i’m fat and nothing else. what if ppl laugh at me. i preordered a manifesto: day one set from weverse and i’m praying i don’t get into the fansign bc i don’t want them to see me. ik it’s a stupid thing for me to say but that’s what social anxiety paired with body image issues does to a mf ig😭. and jay’s one of the main ppl who’s made weight jokes abt sunoo and he’s my second bias, next to sunoo being my ult. like imma be real i teared up writing this a couple times🧎🏻‍♀️. but seeing someone u admire weightshaming another person u admire, when u urself have been in that position, hurts?? jay’s a huge comfort for me but recently not really. but i never wanna say anything bc i don’t wanna seem dramatic bc at the end of the day they’re just some dudes who don’t know me but idk i’ll probably get dragged for this.