#I’m so tired. I don’t want to be anxious about this but apparently my body is making the rules! Damn her!!!

[shima-draws]

MANNNN my anxiety won’t QUIT. Send me some asks perhaps 🤲

#Long story short work has been REALLY fucking stressful #Like. I’ve just been completely buried for what feels like months #And I can’t keep up #And I keep getting chewed out for things that aren’t even my fault 😭 #Talked to my coworkers today and they’re in the same boat #Me: Did you get chewed out by [boss name] too #My coworkers: Yup lol #I’M GLAD IT’S NOT JUST ME #That made me feel a little better #But I’m still just. A ball of stress #I can’t calm down 😭 #I really need to learn how to leave all my stress at work once I walk out the door #But no she follows me home like a stalker. She won’t leave me ALONE #There’s only so much I can do. As one person. As one human being who only works 8 hours a day #Lies down #I’m so tired. I don’t want to be anxious about this but apparently my body is making the rules! Damn her!!! #Shima speaks #Just remember you’re not alone Shima…your coworkers are as stressed and overworked as you are…

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

Can I request a ff where reader is lewis hamilton's wife. Like they are married and reader is pregnant then lewis made some mistakes that caused them to fight one night. Reader get so angry/sad and it just makes lewis worried so much about her and grovel A LOT. High angst and fluff towards the end would be cute. THANK YOUU

moth to a flame — LH44 x pregnant!reader

cw: jealous!lewis, pregnant!reader, angst, fluff

note: lewis is so the weeknd coded

masterlist

Your birthday party went well. Well, until your ex boyfriend showed up uninvited and Lewis went crazy about it. Apparently he just wanted to say hi, but the night ended with a physical fight.

When you came back home you were so mad you couldn’t look at him in the eyes, nor you could look at his wounded hand or at the cut on his eyebrow.

“Thank you for ruining my birthday.”

“Thank that prick of your ex.”

You threw your purse on the table. “Oh so it was his fault you pushed him first?”

“C’mon Y/N, he was clearly trying to fuck you.”

You turned to him with a disgusted look on your face. “Not even if he was the last man on earth. We were just talking. Can’t I talk to another man now?”

“He was standing way too close for someone who’s aware of your condition. I’m sorry, I saw red.”

Your gaze inevitably shifted down at your own belly. It’s been almost two months since you found out you were pregnant, so it wasn’t quite visible, though you could feel it very well. “And you think getting in the way between you and him couldn’t have hurt the baby?”

The realisation struck Lewis. “Oh my God, are you okay?” He tried to come closer but you stepped back.

“I’m tired of you being jealous of everyone. You’re supposed to trust me, you’re my husband. I…” You sensed tears in your eyes. Damn it, you didn’t want to cry again. “I should feel safe with you but instead I just feel anxious all the time.”

Lewis came close to hug you. “Don’t. Leave me alone.” You fought back, wiping your eyes with your hands, but that just caused him to strengthen the grip on you until you gave up and abandoned you in his arms. There was no point in trying to fight him.

“You’re right, that was stupid, I fucked up your birthday.” He laid a kiss on your forehead, slowly caressing your hair. “I’m gonna take you some water.”

He escorted you on the sofa and brought you a glass of water from the kitchen. He covered you with a blanket and sat next to you. He touched your cheek with his palm while you drank the water and then put it on the table in front of you.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better.” You looked at him. He had that Bambi look in those big brown eyes and trying to resist it was vain.

You suddenly realized his wounds were still hurting. You sighed. “Bring me bandages and something to disinfect that cut.”

“I’m good, I don’t need–“

“Lewis.” You interrupted him firmly.

He stayed silent. He then nodded, stood up and did as you told him. It certainly wasn’t a good time to contradict you.

When he came back on the couch, you began dabbing his face gently with a wad of cotton dipped in the solution. “He was such a dick.”

A corner of his mouth curved in a little agreeing smile. “Indeed he was.”

You carefully put a band-aid on his eyebrow, then proceeded bandaging his hand. He was watching every actions of yours. You understood he was actually sorry for what he did and you couldn’t help but forgive him. His intentions towards you were kind hearted after all.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my life. You both are.” His bandaged hand slid down on your belly.

Your hand joined his. “And you’re mine. You know I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else in the world.”

You laid on the couch and he followed you, resting his head on your chest and his body next to yours, careful not to press his weight on your womb.

Your fingers travelled in his soft braided hair. “Besides, there’s nothing about him you should be jealous of. You have everything he doesn’t have.”

“You mean a beautiful wife?”

“I was about to say seven world championships, but I guess a beautiful wife will do as well.”

You both laughed.

He squeezed you more with his arms around your back, turning serious once again. “How are you feeling?” He asked, although he was the injured one.

“Don’t worry, it was nothing.” You stroke his back with your hand. He was so strong, it felt so good having him curled against you like that. You couldn’t imagine anybody else to build a family with.

“I was scared I hurt you. I don’t want to fight. Not only for the baby, I don’t ever want to fight with you.” He kissed your abdomen and buried his face in your neck.

“It’s okay, you could never hurt me.”

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 #formula 1 #fanfiction

[percsane]

— nobody ges me ☆

pairing: riri williams x blk afab reader

content: slight wakanda forever spoilers, swearing, slightly toxic riri?, fluff

summary: riri finally meets someone who gets her, and she’ll do anything to not lose her.

kendall’s note: this is inspired by ‘nobody gets me’ by sza! pls be gentle on me this my first time writing in a while LMFAO, anyway happy reading loves

(♡) or rb! :)

riri noticed you in her differential equations class. you were the only person who could keep up with her. she would see you in the hallways, the library, the cafeteria.

you seemed to keep to yourself, kinda like her.

she had taken a liking to you and started to ask about you. apparently you were just as smart as she was, you had straight a’s and you’ve always been a smart girl.

she liked that you guys shared your knowledge.. but she wanted to know you. so she walked up to you one morning in the library.

“hey.”

it was the first one she had uttered to you, you looked up from your books to see, her.

riri williams. the girl you’ve had a crush on for god knows how long now. you loved her brain, how smart she was and you admired her for it. you always wished she would’ve noticed you but.. damn. she really did.

“hi.” you murmured back, a lopsided grin on your face.

she sat down next to you and started to make conversation. you guys had ended up talking for the rest of the day, from staying in the library, walking each other to classes, going to lunch!

it was nice for you both, it was like you really got each other.

after a few months you and her got closer and became very close friends. though, you thought she was cute and adored her, you didn’t know if she felt the same and you really didn’t want to risk losing her, so you tucked it down.

riri on the other hand was going crazy thinking about you all the time. every time you guys hung out, she couldn’t help but get lost in daydreams about being with you.

you were slowly but surely getting tired of these feelings for riri, feeling it wasn’t mutual. so you went on a date with a girl in your differential equations class who had been feeling you for a hot minute.

that same day riri decided she needed to talk to you.

riri bby: yo (y/n) 9:46 pm

you didn’t even take a minute to respond back.

you: hey wsp riri? 9:46 pm

you were anxious.

riri bby: we need to talk. 9:47 pm

okay… now you were really anxious.

you: um alright.. come over. 9:47 pm

not even a minute later you heard 3 knocks at your door, knowing it was riri you opened it, prepared to greet her before she interrupted you.

“so you’re going out with a girl huh.” she says, more as a statement than a question. “damn, no hi?” you say closing the door and crossing your arms, a little thrown back that she didnt even greet you, she looked annoyed and she hadn’t even been standing there for a minute.

“answer my question (y/n).” the tension grows thicker with the silence in the room. you finally speak up. “and if i am? i’m not in a relationship.” you say with a raised eyebrow.

you can see riris eyebrows furrow as you speak. “so? you know how i am about you.” she says seriously, making you scoff. “actually, i don’t know shit riri.” you spit venom when saying her name, like as if it was a curse, like it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

riri gets closer to you, and looks you in your eyes as she does. “well you know now. look ion know why i ain’t say shit before.. and i’m sorry ma. but i really am feeling you, i have been for a while now.” she looks in your eyes for any sense of.. well anything.

you smile a bit before looking up at her. “you know that ‘date’ wasn’t an actual date. yeah she asked me out but i told her i already liked someone else.. her and i just hung out as friends riri.” you chuckle seeing the sight of relief in her eyes. you thought her being jealous was cute.

she hugs you tight and you can smell her vanilla perfume you bought her from bath & body works. “you ain’t going nowhere ight? i’m crazy about you mami.” she whispers before peppering kisses along your neck, making you smile and hum, she grabs your face after pulling away from your neck to make eye contact with you.

“nobody gets me like you.” she smiles.

#riri williams #riri william x black!reader #ironheart x reader #dominique thorne #black panther #riri williams fanfic #riri williams imagine #toxic riri #riri x reader #riri williams x reader #ironheart

[matsmurdock]

obligatory sick fic

Hi again, today I come to you with a sick fic!

You can also find this fic on my ao3 <3 Enjoy!

Words: 1051

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Female reader

credits for the picture: murdocklovebot on twitter

The first thing you felt when you woke up was how gross and clammy you felt. It was apparently early morning, your alarm hadn’t even rung yet, so you were annoyed by that too. You moaned when you tried to turn around to face Matt but realized your entire body ached, the sheet was sticking to you body and you felt cold because of the dry sweat. You saw Matt starting to wake up but couldn’t keep your eyes open because of how tired you were.

“Good morning” Matt said, leaning in to kiss your forehead, that made you moan again because it felt like your body would break just from the featherlight kiss. “God, you’re burning up sweetheart” Matt whispered.

“No, I’m cold” you mumbled in the cover.

“I think you might be running a fever, you’re very sticky” Matt said brushing your hair out of your face. “I’m going to get you some water and Tylenol.” You mumbled a thank you as he got up and left to go fetch you a glass of water in the kitchen.

You felt as though your brain was trying to escape through the front of your face with how much it was aching. You reached for your phone to look at the time and groaned when you saw that it was nearly time for you to get up and start working, you tried sitting up in bed, but felt what little energy you had drain out of you. You heard Matt coming back from the kitchen, and went to get up from the side of the bed when you heard him exclaim his disagreement.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked coming towards you, “You shouldn’t be moving right now.” He laid the glass of water of the side table and pushed you back down on the bed. Everything started spinning, so you welcomed the comfort of the bed under you.

“I have work soon.”

“I’ll send them an e-mail or something, you’re not getting up until your fever’s down”, he said, reaching for the glass and helping you take your Tylenol pill.

“I’ll be fine, this is going to help thank you.” He shook his head. “I’ll take a vitamin tablet too and I’ll be alright in no time I think I’m just tired but I’ll be fine Matty.”

“Either you’re staying in bed or I’m calling Claire”, he threatened.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time, maybe we’ll drink coffee together and make you look like a clown because I’m just having a slow morning.”

“I think you caught Peter’s flu, and you saw how sick he was” Matt said, rubbing his finger up and down your arm. “I don’t want you to be that sick if we can avoid it.”

“It won’t be that bad” you tried, but knew it wouldn’t work. “Maybe I can just work from the bed.”

“You’re not going to work at all, you need to sleep this off.” Matt said. “I’m going to call Foggy and tell him I’ll be working on my cases from home.”

“You don’t have to stay home for me, I can manage.”

“I don’t trust you to take care of yourself, actually.” And ouch, that kind of hurt but you knew he wasn’t wrong. “Y/n, please let me take care of you today. If you feel better tomorrow, then we’ll see about work.”

You thought about it and how anxious it made you to miss work. You had never missed work; you even went to work on a sprained ankle one day to spare yourself the stress and trouble it would entail. Part of the reason why you never missed work was because you knew your boss was a hardass when it came to sick days. But to be fair, it was probably irresponsible to work when you were this sick. The room wouldn’t stop spinning, so you didn’t even know how you’d manage to write emails all day long. You could try for a half day, but you knew Matt would sooner call your boss and let them know how he felt about this than let you do it. You sighed. “Okay, yeah, let me just send an email.”

“I can do it for you.”

“Matt, please.”

“I’ll get you your laptop but then you’re going back to sleep.”

He went back to the living room to get your laptop from the little desk area you’d arranged for yourself after Matt once again forced you to, because you didn’t want him to think you were taking over his own space. He’d shut that shit down so fast you didn’t even have time to blink before he moved some of his stuff over to make room for yours. He got you your laptop, you sent an apologetic email to you HR telling them you had the flu and would be up and at it again tomorrow, but until then you were on forced bed rest. You were so tired that you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad about it for now, only thinking about the nap you were going to take as soon as you were done with this. You closed your laptop again and put it on your side table. You put your head back on your pillow and wrapped yourself in the duvet cover. Matt kissed your forehead before going to fill up your glass again. A whine escaped your lips without your consent when he made to leave, he stopped in his tracks.

“Do you need something, what’s wrong?” he asked, a frown between his eyebrows.

“Can you stay with me for now?” you asked, feeling shy suddenly. This was humiliating. You hated being sick because it made you feel and act like a helpless child. “I’m cold and I’m sleepy” you continued, feeling small and keeping your eyes closed to not face Matt’s judging face.

“Oh sweetheart,” you heard him say, and you opened your eyes again. He was coming to sit next to you, his hand coming to brush your hair. “Of course I’ll stay with you.” You thanked you and took his hand to hold it. You turned a little to face him, still holding his hand and before you knew it you were drifting of to sleep.

Thank you for reading, hope you liked it!!

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #daredevil fanfic #marvel fanfic

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

Just a massive rant and mental health pity party

I know I’m mentally ill, and I know I’m pretty incapable of a lot of things, but because I am on the dsp and I don’t work and I don’t really DO anything, I think it’s easy for me to forget how mentally ill I am. Because my “routine” isn’t affected by my mental illness. Because my routine is just being at home. I can be depressed and miserable and not shower for a week or not look after myself and it doesn’t really affect me. I’m in my room anyway. I’m at home anyway. I just sleep when I need to.

But then when I try and step out and do things and get to the point where I’m integrating more external things into my routine I’m just smacked in the face with how inept I actually am. Though I know that probably just sounds like I’m extremely lazy and I probably am. I think the things that are going to stop me are my ocd or ptsd or body image issues. And they do. But it seems so often it’s just a combination of my depression and anxiety that prevent me from doing anything. I’m just genuinely so tired all the time. It gets to the point where thinking about catching the bus and then catching the train makes me want to sleep. Or I get so anxious over the idea of being outside for that long with no quick way home that I make myself exhausting. I think of the next day and the next day and the next day and the next day and I’m just so inhibited by fear and tiredness. I shut down. I just go to bed.

And I partly know why. I know I’m alive for the sole purpose that one, I’m apparently too chicken to make any of my attempts more then an overdose because I don’t want to traumatise anyone, and I feel as though death is something I’m not allowed access too because again it will traumatise those around me. So I just feel stuck here , waiting. And there are times where I TRY to better myself or do things that are fulfilling or enriching or might make life something I want for myself and not just other people. But they are either extremely superficial (like buying books) or I can do them once and then suddenly the thought of ever doing it again sends me into a spiral (like the course or going to a play). And I just can’t do it. I want to retreat back into my room, close my eyes and forget about everything. Because I’m weak and I’m a coward and I have no backbone. As soon as that prickling feeling hits me I close my eyes and go to sleep. Because sleep IS my death. It’s the death I’m allowed access to. But I’ve also been doing it for so long that genuinely my body has little energy. It’s so accustomed to sleeping that now even when I’m not stressed or upset I’m still tired.

It makes me fall into this weird pit of feeling less guilty in some areas and more in others. A part of me is like , ah see! You really do need the dsp. You really are very mentally ill. It’s okay. And then another part of me is like you need it for THIS???? What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you just go out and do things. If you don’t force yourself it’s never getting better. You will be stuck in your room forever. Rotting away as the world goes around. Ageing into nothingness. Finding nothing worthwhile in life. Having no dreams or aspirations or goals and achievements. Just rotting flesh. No friends, no connections, no job, nothing.

But I feel so unbelievably apathetic to try anymore. Because whenever I DO try it’s so short lived. I said I wanted to complete this course so I could have completed SOMETHING since high school. So I could look back on my birthday and think at least I did something. But even that’s fallen through. I want to just throw in the towel, and shut myself away from the world because I’m exhausted. I feel this deep seated tiredness that just never seems to go away. Even now I feel like I can hardly keep my eyes open and the only reason I’m pushing through is because I’m hoping the tingling and other somatic pains that are crushing me because of my emotions will go away.

It so often feels like life was a gift given that I had no choice in and have no way of returning. I feel so unbelievably stuck and pathetic. Like there is just no point in trying to get better or make plans or push myself because I always let myself down and can’t do it anyway.

#tw #trigger warning

[bellygunnr]

Soybean Sonata

What Takumi doesn't say is this--

On nights his father runs deliveries, he prepares the tofu. Somewhere between his day job, sleeping, and driving, he is processing soy beans. Not for the first time, not with enthusiasm, but with less complaint than he had when he was younger.

What he doesn't say--

Business has been better ever since he's started racing. The kind of better that requires two bodies, but not a help wanted sign. The kind that improves the craft now that success is both tangible and profitable. From catering to hotels to restaurants to the gas station down the street. Apparently, car-touted brand deals are a tale as old as time.

What he doesn't say is--

Living in a tofu shop doesn't inherently mean you smell like soybeans, it just means you're arm deep in the water, more involved than ever before. He doesn't know why. He can say no. His father wouldn't mind-- but something is wrong with him. He has a cracked moral code. This is what pays for gas and bills and tires, this is how he got to Project D.

And he can't say--

I made this, as he lifts the crate of bottled soy milk. As he passes it around, lets other people partake. I did this, goes unsaid, because the tofu shop isn't supposed to be a lifestyle. It's just a fun detail. A unique origin story. There's nothing to defend, to get sentimental of.

It's just that he asks Ryosuke about promoting the shop on that website of his. An address and an image, if you want. He's learned more and more about business and economics since getting more involved and the hunted look in his father's eyes has meaning now.

"I don't see why not," Ryosuke says, like he doesn't run the entire show. "I'll do that as soon as I can. Tell me, is this something your father requested?"

Takumi grins, a bared teeth grimace. "My father wouldn't do that, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. He's not above already using Project D to bring in customers."

"Is that so," Ryosuke says, like it's something to recalculate.

But Takumi leaves before he figures out what. There's still practice, after all.

But he does say:

"Fujiwara Tofu, how may I help you?"

"Fujiwara! How are you doing?"

It takes him a moment to place the voice. Behind him, the bell on the door rings. Another customer, this one with a child.

"I'm alright. A little busy, Fumihiro. What's up?"

He doesn't mean to be curt, but he's keeping an eye on the storefront, offering a shy smile to the toddler as they stare past the display to squint at him with curious suspicion.

"Right, I'll be quick. Keisuke's on his way to the shop. I just thought you'd want a heads up. Am I right?"

Takumi is above vocalizing whatever emotion he's feeling in the moment. He can't tell if he's mad or surprised or disgruntled, or maybe just plain surprised, because he's never actually interacted with the Project outside of racing.

"That's-- yeah, very helpful. Thank you, Fumihiro. I need to let you go."

It feels a little rude, but the pressure of people hovering at the register makes him anxious. He hangs up with a click and hurries out, tightening his apron, smile falling back into place because tofu employee Takumi is happier than normal Takumi.

He wonders when Keisuke is going to arrive. Where he's going to park. Customers come and go, purchasing both lunch and food for later, enough so that in the next lull he's having to actually cook, which is stressful enough on its own.

And, secretly, he's trying to outperform his dad, because maybe if he can't outrun the Impreza on the road, he can do it here.

He's entirely unaffected by events in his life, obviously.

The door chimes. Takumi looks up and feels his face do something funny. Fumihiro had mentioned Keisuke-- but not the entire Project D service van. In vain, he searches for his father's car, then dashes that hope.

He does not want his dad meeting them, no way.

"Welcome," Takumi says tonelessly.

Wasn't he cooking? He checks on the little cubes of tofu. Burnt undersides greet him.

"I didn't think this place was real," he hears Kenta say, in vague awe. "Damn. It's kind of--"

"It's nice," Keisuke says loudly, like he's lying. "What are you making, Fujiwara?"

"Lunch, apparently."

Takumi flips the burnt tofu over. If he gets this side right, then he can just eat it himself, right? In the corner of his eye, he sees Kenta staring into the lone refrigerator. Tomiguchi and Matsumoto file in a moment later, which eases his nerves, somehow.

"...Your lunch looks a little scorched," Keisuke says. "Anyway. Aniki wanted to ask about promotional material. You care if we do that?"

What. Hurriedly, Takumi scrapes his food onto a spare plate. As he turns around, a small mound of items have been placed on the register. Rotely, he starts going through them, frowning.

"Promotional material?"

Because Takumi had asked about advertising the shop a little bit...

"You know. He wants to put something on the website for it. Pictures and stuff. That's why we're here."

Really, they shouldn't be able to rack up a bill this impressive. Takumi wordlessly continues to check them out.

"Yeah. We're gonna bring the FD here next week, too. Think of it as a collab," Matsumoto says with a smile.

"Sure, that sounds... fun," he says at length.

He forgot that by asking Ryosuke anything, he's going to receive the world. If his dad doesn't kill him, whatever these guys have in store will.

#initial d #takumi fujiwara #86 day

[minseologs]

[LOG]

I thought this leave of absence was suppose to make me better and that it’s good for my health. I’m just feeling anxious now because I’m not used to having a schedule—

I get bouts of headaches since that head injury, and I’m finally only realizing the long term effects of it. I feel like I’ve been having more frequent memory lapses lately. I honestly didn’t think anterograde amnesia lasts that long on a minor head trauma… nonetheless, I don’t remember this picture Jinwoo…

One thing that changed: I feel like everyone is getting back to me because I really do have time in my hands. Or is it because of the fact I’m not working in the office? I talked to Yohan lately. But it’s been different, I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like a sudden wall was built between us. I just wished he told me whats wrong so I could fix it… if he lets me— that is. One thing I feel like I can’t fix is the one with Cash though…

Another: Siho. Apparently her father was killed. I need to investigate that… she’s too fast to catch— like a homeless cat. Always on a prowl. Then again she never wanted my help. I Can never tell with that girl. She comes back from time to time. And then Xian and then Li. He said his grandparents were in town. It’s nice to see him so happy. He paints. I remember that. Xian invited me in his business trip about some award show. He told me he didn’t know if he was going to get an award but I notice as if he wished he didn’t. I could feel it.

Which brings me to the next thought I have. I feel gentle paranoia anytime I’m no where near Wenhan since the whole incident with his father. I’ve confined that man like a sardine, except he’s still not caught and is waiting to be tinned— which I won’t let him be subjected to such thing. I just need to get over this stupid medical additions I have. Or be stronger at least. My last resort is using my body as armor. I wonder if he’s tired of me looking over near by. Maybe he’s being nice. Does he really have a choice while he heals? I want to express my concerns but I don’t want to annoy him. I’ve been getting him trinkets from my walks… I wonder if he notices the small piles of nonsense I leave. I don’t know. I’ve been accompanying reading books with him so that feels nice. … I think he’ll be okay for one night, right?

I can’t believe I’m writing this much. Therapy has been a drag. Maybe Yohan was right… I just need to get out of the house…

#cms:log

[crashingwavesinmyworld]

Telling my mom about how my paranoia and anxiety has gotten worse and how I don’t feel safe in my own house or anywhere and wish she could just meet me in the middle when it comes to just doing one thing I ask her to help me feel less anxious (wear a fucking mask which she admitted to not doing today when she went somewhere and I know there are other times she hasn’t even if she doesn’t tell me but IM LITERALLY JUST ASKING FOR ONE THING

she told me I’m crazy and full of shit, the other day she called me psycho when I said after taking one of my anti anxiety meds that I still felt very anxious and on edge she’s like really you seem better to me and not psycho like you have been lately

This just in having panic and anxiety attacks and my whole body hurting because of it makes me psycho!!!! Being paranoid makes me psycho!!! Please don’t let anyone tell you that. Anyone reading this it’s not true. Having mental illness does not make you crazy. And you deserve someone to truly listen and care about you not dismiss your concerns the way everyone does to me

Oh apparently I’m also worth being treated like I’m dirt on the ground because I cried in public (last month when my mom was in the hospital and almost died) I wasn’t even full on sobbing or making a scene but I guess that makes me crazy too just crying being teary eyed and instead of asking if I’m okay just treat me like garbage and they are only nice to me now because they were told to be not because they actually are a good person, I can’t trust anyone and I don’t know why I’ve wasted so much time on people who will never care about me but I also don’t blame them I’m too much of a mess to stick around for. No matter how good of a friend I try to be my mental health always gets in the way and no one will ever see me as worthy of sticking around for. Even my own mom thinks im crazy and has even told me to just unalive myself already and get it over with so I can’t expect anyone else to love me it even my own mom is sick of me and I can’t bring up any of the toxic things she’s said it done without her acting like she’s the victim being turned into a villain unfairly but tbh she has been a fucking villain just because she’s also done good things for me it doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be upset or call out the hurtful things she’s said and done!!!!! I just wish it could be over. I don’t want to go through this pain anymore I can’t deal with it anymore I’m so tired

#I feel like I need to trigger warning this but I don’t know what to tag it with #depression tw #suicide tw #mental health tw #I don’t even know. #I’m so tired

[eclectic-flower-child]

Things my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder causes me to do {OCD}

- have extreme anxiety to the point of hyperventilating ( for no apparent reason)

- Do things twice or multiple times because the first didn’t “feel right.”

- Become anxious and distraught because I had a “gut feeling” something bad would happen - in a situation where there was nothing for me to worry about at all.

- Do things a certain amount of times because “if you don’t, something bad will happen.”

- Lock the door every night - even if I can see that it’s already locked, I will unlock it and lock it again.

- Run through my day in my head before I can get out of bed.

- Shower in a certain order (EX. shampoo, conditioner, body wash - never ever body wash first.)

- Have extreme anxiety if I don’t give in to my compulsions and obsessive thoughts.

- Not being able to let something go - running it through your mind over and over and over again with no control of your thoughts.

And a whole slew of other things. I’m tired of people generalizing OCD for just wanting things to be neat and clean all the time. While it can be that, it can also be a lot of other things. People glamorize OCD, thinking that if you had it, your life would be so much more organized, and clean, and neat. That assumption is so much more wrong than i can express. OCD is hard. OCD is living with that extra voice in your head, telling you everything that could go wrong, or making basic tasks so much more difficult than they have to be.

Before I was diagnosed, I used to think that using OCD, as a synonym for neat, wasn’t bad. But I didn’t know what was causing me to feel this way all the time, and I never wished it upon anyone. When I found out the struggles I had were from OCD, it became clear to me that the use of a psychological condition as a synonym for clean, was wrong. And in a way, yeah it kinda offends me, because people do not know how hard living with OCD is.

To sum it up, be kind, and respectful, and patient with mental health.

#tw ocd #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #ocd awareness #mental health

[notoriousdks]

Took the plunge and wrote my first, little fan-fiction. No beta-reader, so be gentle! Any & all feedback is welcome and appreciated!

It’s Remotely Plausible I Could Show You (AO3)

Scully heard a knock at her door. She peered out of the peephole to see Mulder patiently waiting with a slightly anxious look on his face. Her heart sank as she thought oh god, he wants to talk…he wants to let me down easy… After they slept together, she quietly fled Mulder’s apartment before he woke to give herself much needed alone time to process her feelings. Feelings of deep love and adoration that she harbored for this man, but had no expectation of ever being reciprocated. Feelings of inadequacy and self doubt — she found herself coming back to the same train of thought: this was just sex, there’s no way he feels anything more… there’s no way he feels the same way about me as I do about him. Apparently a few hours was all the time she would get before she had to face the cold, hard reality of the talk she would much sooner ignore. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she slowly opened the door with a soft smile. All she could bring herself to say upon seeing Mulder in her doorway was, “Hi.” Uhhhggg, Dana. You moron. Hi!?! That’s your opener?! What are you, a doofy teenager?! she immediately chastised herself.

“Hey, Scully,” Mulder stated. He noticed a slight expression of annoyance on Scully’s face. Suddenly swept across Mulder’s face. He quickly said, “Sorry, I should have called first. I should just go,” motioning down the hall.

“No!” Scully responded more eagerly than she intended. She took another calming breath and paused her internal self-flagellation, replacing her annoyed expression with a slightly nervous smile, “No, it’s okay. Come on in,” stepping aside and holding the door open wider to allow Mulder to pass through.

With a quick and seemingly nervous movement, Mulder stepped into Scully’s apartment. “Scully, I…” Mulder stammered.

“It’s okay, Mulder,” Scully cut him off and felt all of her feelings of inadequacy erupt out before she could catch herself, “I know why you’re here and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have instigated. I hope my lapse in judgement last night won’t jeopardize our working relationship or our friendship.”

“Scully..” Mulder attempted to interject.

“I mean, it’s not that it didn’t mean anything to me. It did…actually mean something…to me,” Scully trailed off briefly, regretting her words but knowing there was no going back from this, “…but I don’t want you to feel like you have to reciprocate because I couldn’t keep my composure. I know I’m not exactly your type and…”

Before Scully could continue, she found Mulder in her personal space, deeply kissing her and gently rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs. Scully felt herself melt, humming softly in approval. With his hands still cupping her cheeks, Mulder broke the kiss and looked deeply into her eyes for a moment. He softly confessed, “Dana, I love you. I have loved you since you walked through my office door seven years ago. I will love you long after you’ve grown tired of me. I will love you until the bitter end.”

Scully wrapped her arms around Mulder’s neck and kissed him with everything she had. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer than either thought possible. As Scully poured her heart into the kiss, she felt the rest of her body aching for more. When she finally needed to come up for air, she felt her mischievous side kick into high gear. Scully backed away from Mulder, slowly inching towards the bedroom with a sly grin “Mulder, you can be down right infuriating sometimes, but I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of you… because I love you, too… more than I can even begin to explain”. Scully slinked closer to her bedroom door, “But I think, it’s remotely plausible, that I could show you just how much I love you” she flirted. Mulder closed the gap between them, his dark eyes fixed on Scully as though he could pounce on her at any moment. His hand grazed his familiar spot on her lower back, ushering her into the bedroom. The door snicked closed behind them.

#the x files #x files #msr #mulder x scully #mulder and scully #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic

[yolkcheeks]

Here is the cycle. [I hate to even write it out and acknowledge it but I gotta get it out of my head somehow]

I am finally getting somewhere with what I’m working on- homework or game or personal project- when it is a reasonable time for bed. I am going to stay up a little longer and wrap this up/wind myself down/get my dailies.

It is a good bit later. Drat. If I go up now it will probably disturb the sleeper and I know I’m not lay still tired. But I do want to sleep better. I’ll just finish this part I am on right now, take my evening medication, and still get a kinda okay amount of sleep.

I’m gonna do it. If I finish this one thing it will probably be enough time for deep sleep to have set in.

The thing cascades into something else. Awfuckitsafteroneagain. Okay I can still make it to bed at a late but not insane time. I’m gonna be upstairs by the next round interval.

Well, by the half hour/hour.

Ugh get up get up get up get up the cat will forgive you get up please please look at the time

Look

At

It

Dripping like wet sand between your fingers. FUCKSAKES get up.

It is now stupid late. My body is screaming from sitting in one position for hours. I have missed out on all the cuddles. I am in so much pain. I’m only just now taking my meds and sometimes forget them and then purposefully don’t bother to go back because I am so mad and disappointed that I can’t bring myself to do one more round trip for something forgotten.

I lay in bed head full of neon runoff and body full of pain. Sometimes the cat is feeling playful and expressing that by being maximally annoying in hopes I will spring out of bed to throw her toy. I want to cry. No position feels comfortable. My hand is numb? Since when is this another thing my body just does? My brain won’t turn off. Somehow, I fall asleep.

I wake up groggy and sleep in then snooze several times and eventually start coffee and morning meds about two hours after the goal time I set myself last night [this mornin]

If it is a school day I work on my homework and it takes up the entirety of my time up until I need to leave for class.

I am always cutting it close- my commute is 15 minutes longer this semester due to metro authority fuckery and my brain is absolutely sure that leaving one hour before will be fine. I plan to leave earlier, to compensate for this, and then something else happens with the bus or whatever.

Last week apparently it was a shooting? I only found out from hearing about it from classmates/the news. I’m not even particularly perturbed since like, who hasn’t been late to work because of someone on the tracks? We know what that means. I try not to let the absence of a anxious reaction inspire a new anxiety to take root.

Class happens and commute happens and sometimes even food happens but then it is late evening and I haven’t had any recreational time. I deserve a little winding down.

Or if it is not a school day I struggle to get anything done all day and start working diligently as the sun moves from low to orange, and I’m gonna get this all done! Catch up! Be ahead!

And sometimes I really do get it all done before I decide I deserve a little break, a little hehe video time…

Awfuckiitsoneagain

#yolkcheeks talks #nightposting #anxiety posting #chronic pain #all the classics

[calamityandme]

I have been soooo productive today holy shit.

I treated myself to coffee from Starbucks today. They accidentally made my chai tea with a double shot hot instead of iced. They said they could make it iced and asked if I wanted the hot one. I said why not, and called and asked my mom if she wanted a drink.

I took the drink to her office and I got to talk to her for a bit. Her new office is a lot nicer than her old one. It’s a legit office. I hope they don’t work her too hard. It was nice spending time with her.

After that I picked up a grocery order. I was exactly on budget with my $98 order. We got some of the little things that would help with meals at home. Like frozen meals I can eat, heavy cream, poptarts for Danny, things like that. Just to tide us over until payday.

When I got home I smoked, drank my chai tea, then got to work. I finished listening to my Gerald’s Game audiobook today. Thank god it’s over lol. It was interesting but terrible. I started my Graveyard Book audiobook by Neil Gaiman. I love when audiobooks are read by the author.

I vacuumed the kitchen, living room, bathroom and hallway. I cleaned the bathroom. I took out the trash. I cleaned the top of the stove and kitchen counters. I tidied the living room so it wasn’t such a mess. I vacuumed and wiped out Fish’s dog kennel and changed the cat bed bedding. I did two loads of laundry, put a hamper of clothes away and sorted another hamper. Then I decided to do a big-ish project—clean under the kitchen sink. It was grimy from the previous tenants. I should have cleaned it a long time ago but oh well. I cleaned a couple windows in the living room. Scooped the litter boxes.

I think that will be the end of my cleaning day so far. It’s 6 PM as I write this. I’ve been at it since 9:30. It’s been enjoyable, but nevertheless I’m finally getting tired of it. Question is whether my brain will let me stop.

I’m sitting on the couch and I can feel a energy or tingling moving in waves up and down my body. I feel like I’m done cleaning, yet my eyes are looking around the house for something else. Something I’m maybe forgetting.

I could clean Danny’s bubbler. I could put my other hamper of clothes away. I could do some dishes.

I could relax too, though. I need to take a bath. I’ve been putting it off for a few days. Why am I not as focused on that?

I cant decide if i should stop. I know as soon as I stop writing this I will most likely start doing a few more things before I finally stop for the night.

I am anxious about something. I put off filling out some important paperwork that apparently had a 10 day due date. I think I got that letter a couple weeks ago. Hopefully it won’t be too bad.

I am so productive typically, but sometimes will forget something that is very important and I have no idea how. I am so focused on getting tasks done that when a task slips through my radar it’s troubling lol. I know, I know. I’m a control freak.

It’s been a good day, I just hope all this energy and productivity doesn’t doom me for the rest of the week. Sometimes I do too much in one day and it zaps my energy for other days. Like that Spoon theory for the chronically ill. I don’t want to run out of spoons.

#journal #diary #diary posting #mental health #blog #blogging #w33d #ocpd #anxiety #depression #cleaning diary #cleaning #clean log #productivity #ston3r #st0n3r #w33dhead

[josiebelladonna]

the whole “my opinions suck” thing got me thinking and i did some searching around, and i found this big thing about self-worth, and near the bottom is a self-esteem check up (here’s the whole link if you’re curious at all and want to try it all out yourself).

i’ll understand if you’re tired of me auditing myself but it needs to get out. i don’t ever want to pretend.

This worksheet is good for a wide audience, including children, adolescents, young adults, and older adults. The opening text indicates that it’s a self-esteem worksheet, but in this case, the terms self-esteem and self-worth are used interchangeably.

Completing this worksheet will help you get a handle on your personal sense of understanding, acceptance, respect, and love for yourself.

The worksheet lists 15 statements and instructs you to rate your belief in each one on a scale from 0 (not at all) to 10 (totally or completely). These statements are:

I believe in myself;

I am just as valuable as other people;

I would rather be me than someone else;

I am proud of my accomplishments;

I feel good when I get compliments;

I can handle criticism;

I am good at solving problems;

I love trying new things;

I respect myself;

I like the way I look;

I love myself even when others reject me;

I know my positive qualities;

I focus on my successes and not my failures;

I’m not afraid to make mistakes;

I am happy to be me.

“I believe in myself.” in general, i don’t. my writing gets slated more often than not, i wouldn’t be offended if my art gets thrown in the trash, i’m ugly, my sexuality doesn’t matter, i’m incompetent, i’m too emotional, my opinions are terrible, my thoughts are weird, you don’t want to know what my religious beliefs are, i have no love life, i have a crush on an older guy and my feelings for him aren’t respected or valid, i have to perform to impress people and even then they aren’t impressed, i can’t hold down a job if it saved me, making friends is a challenge and a chore, my family is hypercritical and hyper vigilant of me (and they honest to god have no reason to be, either), i’m a hack in the science community, and i’m prone to weight gain. i have no confidence in anything i do, no matter how much it means to me. goose egg, 0.

“I am just as valuable as other people” can’t say i am. i do feel… some? in there, some tiny little nugget—it’s probably the one thing that’s keeping me from relapsing into the big “a”. 1.

“I would rather be me than someone else” even with my shit belief in myself, i can’t imagine being someone else. i’ve been me for too long that i kind of have no choice now. right in the middle, 5.

“I am proud of my accomplishments” the answer may surprise you but no. not even a little bit. if anything, i don’t ever want to think about sharing my accomplishments because, the way that my life has gone, i literally worry about being seen as a braggart. 0.

“I feel good when I get compliments” same story: I actually don’t. if anything, they make me so anxious, like what do i say to this? thank you? i gotta do more than thank you, it’s almost expected now. it’s like, now what? 3.

“I can handle criticism” i handle it better than fanfic writers, that’s for fucking sure, mainly because i expect it. i expect to have my ass handed to me. this shit isn’t good and you know it. 5.

“I am good at solving problems” i’ve thought about this and—not really. i’m a “shoot first, ask questions later” kind of person, and apparently, this is widely reviled. i’m also not very bright: problem solvers are bright, and i just am not there. 1.

“I love trying new things” do i ever! 10/10.

“I respect myself” i respect myself enough to walk away from facebook for the most part, kill twitter dead, and to end a stupid feud that should’ve ended after four months. 5.

“I like the way I look” i don’t think i’ve ever liked the way i look. even on my good days, i still nitpick at myself. there’s always something. there’s always someone, too (re: “people just don’t like my body”). 0.

“I love myself even when others reject me” i get rejected constantly and… you’re telling me to love myself? i did that other “what would you do if everything was taken from you” statement on there, and yes, it literally would not change how i feel internally. i’ll still blame myself for losing everything. 0.

“I know my positive qualities” vaguely. 1.

“I focus on my successes and not my failures” i think of both. 5.

“I’m not afraid to make mistakes” my cartoons literally began life as an error. why be afraid? 6.

“I am happy to be me” huh… huhhhhh… jesus tap-dancing christ. what have i done to be happy or deserve it? 1. why 1? can’t imagine being anyone else (the only thing keeping it from zero is out of spite, and even that defeats the purpose. it’s more like 0.5).

Add up all of the ratings for these 15 statements to get your total score, then rate your overall sense of self-esteem on a scale from 0 (I completely dislike who I am) to 10 (I completely like who I am).

(i’m guessing you add them up and then divide by 15 seeing as there’s 15? i got 43, so that’s roughly 2.87)

Finally, respond to the prompt “What would need to change in order for you to move up one point on the rating scale? (i.e., for example, if you rated yourself a 6 what would need to happen for you to be at a 7?)”

believing in myself, i have no fucking clue. i’ve been searching for the answer to this since i was 18. i really feel like i’ve tried everything and i still can’t find it in me. same with my appearance and being happy with myself. my parents tell me i’m beautiful, but i look at my body and can’t help but feel disgust. yeah, my parents think this, but why is no one asking me out on a date? why does everyone at school think i’m ugly and boring to talk to? why am i being bullied? why does my own family take great pleasure in body-shaming me, calling me fat, telling me to cut my hair, telling how to dress and what to read and what to like? most of all… my mom is stressed out and my dad is high. how do i know if there’s any truth to this? if i’m so fucking beautiful, why is all of this happening to me? how do you accept a compliment? besides just thanking the person, that is, and i’m genuinely asking this, too. there are days i genuinely wonder if i even have positive qualities at all and i’m just putting on an act because i’m too afraid to show the real me, the dark and twisted side of me. i literally suck at solving problems… and it’s almost always because i don’t know what i’m doing. i don’t know what i’m looking for, i don’t know what i’m looking at, i don’t know how this works, i don’t know what this means… but i get thrown into it cold and i bullshit my way through it because there’s an expectation on me now. the only time it isn’t is because i tend to forget what i’m supposed to do (hence why i feel so stupid about it). yeah, about being seen as a “braggart” when it comes to accomplishments… there’s a reason for this. when chris was alive, i used to hang out with people who eventually got tired of me, like i could sense they were tired of the fact that chris liked me and i didn’t know what else to tell them. before that, my paternal family often asked me “okay, now what? what happens next?” whenever anything good happened to me (i got honor roll and aced a midterm but it was all a cake walk, what do you want?) and as for value as a person… i’ve never understood this. what does it mean to be a valuable person? moreover, how does it feel to be valued? no one has ever looked at me and said “you’re a valued member of the team/family”, and no one has ever made me feel this way, either.

#personal #self worth #self esteem #text

[awkwarddystopianwarlord]

Self Sabotaging Sleepytime Stupidity

Our bodies need sleep, they know that. Our brains get more tired towards the end of the day and we yearn to finally call it quits and go to bed. So why are nightmares? Why are scary thoughts before sleepy time?

I shall elaborate.

Though this isn’t whilst I’m sleeping, it’s the before times of getting there. I shower right before bed and so many damn times I think “what if there’s something in here with me?” be it a person or a demonic creature, be it in the tub itself or just the bathroom, my brain gives me that to think about. It does the same thing as I lay in bed, letting my body succumb to sleep. I suddenly wonder if there’s someone outside my door waiting to break in or something standing in the corner of my room or a figure right by my bed but I can’t see because I’m facing the wall. My brain convinces itself that it senses we are not alone when I’m at my most vulnerable. It throws out all these unnerving thoughts and ideas and haunts me when I’m just trying to pass out for the day.

Then the nightmares come. I spend my entire waking life stressed and on edge and anxious and exhausted. I do not want the same for my sleeping hours. I need balance. Even the dreams of working a whole day after actually working a whole day pisses me off because I don’t want to think about that now. Let alone the terrifying images and stories that are dealt with subconsciously like watching my family die or running from something I can’t actually escape or the world around me warping onto something claustrophobic and dark and confusing.

To spend the night seeing unsettling things seems wasteful and to spend the time before sleeping imagining unsettling things seems unnecessary. As I said, our bodies know that sleep is important so it weirds me out that they would self sabotage that for no apparent reason. I just wake up more tired and full of negative feelings and emotions which doesn’t help anything. Who came up with this? Why did we evolve like this? What is the purpose of this? I need a lot of sleep to function and I already lose a lot of that by taking forever to finally fall asleep and by waking up again due to either a full bladder or chronic pain. I cannot afford to lose more by freaking myself out a half hour before going to bed, to the moment I’m trying to sleep, to my subconscious after the fact.

Let life continue being my own personal nightmare, but at least give me the nights to dream. I’m so tired and I think too much and there’s no one here with me so I’m left to fill in faces and appearances for all the sounds I hear, oh the odd noises that occur. I try to drown it all out with soundscapes and the light that emanates from my wee air cooler but alas, this is where my vivid imagination has its faults. Where I can see good things clearly before me if I wish it, so can I with the bad even when I don’t wish it, and unfortunately the bad often invades my sight when it’s dark and I’m lonely.

#rants #annoyance #writing #blog #weeklyblog #friday post

[batgirltraining]

July 19, 2022

been wanting to get into better shape and form a consistent workout/exercise routine for a long time, but its difficult. today i was doing some online shopping for adidas shorts/tops and i randomly got inspired to look at this blog for the first time in apparently 3 years. wow. 

i ended up going through all my posts and previous logs, and honestly it made me feel a bit sad. years ago when i was first starting to run, i was struggling with self-esteem (i mean, i still am) and i hated the way i looked (still do, if we’re being completely honest). and it’s weird to me because now i look at those old pictures of myself and i was so much thinner. at least 25lbs lighter, stomach basically flat -- which was somehow that was my biggest insecurity. i find myself comparing myself then to now. currently, im 150lbs (at least), which apparently is the same as my last log back in 2019, so that’s interesting. i guess that means ive been in this slump for at least 3 years. i didn’t realize. (which, to be fair -- im not necessarily concerned about weighing less. i just want to be more active and feel stronger. if that means my number goes down, fine. if that means the number stays the same because the fat turns to muscle and stays that number, that’s fine too).

the number itself isn’t the problem. it’s the fact that i am basically sedentary and i feel not-great a lot of the time. last week, i worked out 2x, went on a walk with friends, and went on a bike ride with my mom. and it felt pretty good. i just would like to be in a better mind-set where i do those things more consistently and more often. i don’t like being sedentary. and i don’t like how i feel in my body. i would like to be more active and to eat healthier but it’s hard. and im so used to how things are now, that even though i don’t like how they are now, i almost prefer staying this way than to doing anything about it. PLUS, i only ever feel these bursts of inspiration in the evening and then i wake up and im like nahh im tired i dont want to do that.

but i think it would be cool to start the couch to 5k program again. baby steps. i can’t expect myself to be able to run 3 miles again out of nowhere, and there’s no shame in starting over. and i dont really think i’d enjoy running super far, like a marathon, but 3 miles is a nice number to strive for. 

but i have another big problem... i really struggle with this idea of being perceived and running alone. i feel like everyone is staring at me and even though i know they’re not (or even if they were, who cares), it still makes me anxious. i’ve never gone on a walk or run by myself, since college, because i makes me anxious. and like i said, staying the same is easier than doing something. (actually, interesting note, now that i think about it -- i used to run by myself in college and i enjoyed it. sure, i felt like people were looking at me, but it didnt make me that anxious. i think because of the environment. i think being in my hometown makes me feel that high-school-level anxiousness. i think i fear being judged by people i know from town more than i did while being away at school. sure people knew me at college - but less so than at home. WHICH, just to play devil’s advocate, it’s not as if everyone in town knows me....... food for though). 

...so! maybe i’ll start that couch to 5k program, or maybe i won’t. maybe i’ll make another entry in another 3 years, or maybe i’ll make one in 10. will tumblr even exist in 2032? i hope so. 

anyway. i’m going to end this weird rant by apologizing to my past self. im sorry that i didnt love you how you should have been loved. you deserved kindness and compassion even when i didnt think i deserved it. even though i hated how you looked, there’s never been anything wrong with you. nothing then, and nothing now. i love you <3

#running log #i suppose

[noteguk]

bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone. 

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while. 

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day 

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple 

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from. 

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea. 

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids. 

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings. 

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons. 

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon. 

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place. 

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body. 

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.” 

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes. 

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect. 

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot. 

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really. 

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?” 

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.” 

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.” 

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.” 

“And what is?” You asked. 

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.” 

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.” 

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.” 

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container. 

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.” 

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.” 

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.” 

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?” 

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.” 

He frowned. “Is that your answer?” 

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?” 

“Because I like giving back to the community.” 

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.” 

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.” 

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?” 

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.” 

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.” 

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?” 

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.” 

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?” 

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.” 

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.” 

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment. 

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily. 

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious. 

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“ 

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.” 

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.” 

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully. 

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.” 

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive. 

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” 

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.” 

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave? 

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all. 

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.” 

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?” 

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin. 

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.” 

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.” 

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.” 

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?” 

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly. 

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.” 

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?” 

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?” 

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.” 

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.” 

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.” 

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.” 

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like. 

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh. 

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening. 

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—” 

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable. 

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.” 

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.” 

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded. 

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought. 

“Turn around for me,” he asked. 

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.” 

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked. 

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat. 

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?” 

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.” 

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.” 

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.” 

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”  

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.” 

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.” 

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation. 

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface. 

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.” 

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.” 

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.” 

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank. 

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed. 

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?” 

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.” 

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.” 

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you. 

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state.  “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.” 

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his. 

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that. 

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?” 

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways. 

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.” 

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him. 

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.” 

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...” 

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.” 

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.” 

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.” 

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.” 

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm. 

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.” 

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat. 

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home. 

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…” 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.” 

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?” 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?” 

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.” 

~ 

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises. 

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum. 

You, of course, promptly accepted it. 

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked. 

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.” 

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place. 

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”  

“And, by the way?” 

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time. 

~ 

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