#and i have a fucking final on thursday and im feeling like im going to fucking **** ******
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haha major yikes. we're supposed to have family dinner at my grandparents on sunday for father's day and my dad doesn't know if it's just my parents and us or if the whole family is invited, and the latter will be a problem bc i blocked my cousin on absolutely everything months ago with zero explanation and that will be suuuuper fucking awkward if they're gonna be there
#my cousin has copied me on literally everything our whole lives and taken it too far on several occasions#but they started faking my disability after i was diagnosed and that was the final straw#and i felt no need to have a conversation about it so i just cut ties lmaoooo#text post#and before someone asks: well how do you know they're faking#we lived together for a few years and shared a bedroom. i fucking know#and i don't know how to get out of going bc it would crush my grandpa and i really can't do that to him#i have therapy this thursday. will discuss strategy then#like what am i gonna say 'i blocked you for faking autism' in front of the whole fucking family so they can throw a tantrum#and make me the bad guy?#the only fucking solice i have is my mom and brother both went 'what the actual fuck? they're not autistic' when i told them#like there was a whole fucking lifetime of signs and struggles and issues with me even though i was undiagnosed#my cousin has had ZERO#they literally asked me about all my symptoms and then started faking ALL OF THEM afterwards#god im getting so fucking angry#it feels so disrespectful too bc they were living with me when i was having the worst fucking years of my life#both bc my autism was causing me so many problems and bc being undiagnosed made those problems worse#they watched all of the fucking hell i went through and now they're fucking faking my disability? oh my GOD
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ok i survived yom kippur. but it took every single scrap of strength in my body and i’m not completely better yet
#purrs#food#ask to tag#got my period thursday… bad cramps friday and saturday to the point where i had to go home early saturday (we were working lol 🤪)…. woke up#sunday with a. headache that got worse and worse throughout the day… 5-6 hours into the fast was in agony and felt like i was going to ****#so i… broke the fast and ate something at like 1am. then woke up in agony at 5am and then again at 9am and had a breakdown / fight with my#mom and then spend the whole rest of the fast deathly nauseous and my head hurting worse than ever. broke the fast an hour before everyone#else did (only ate a tiny bit) and then during the fast breaking dinner i started freaking out bc eating wasn’t making my head hurt less so#my grandpa told me to go lie down with a heating pad on my head and i did and slept for like 2 hours and it helped. finally feel better but#my head still hurts faintly and im scared it’ll come back. also i didn’t do my homework and missed class today to fast so im fucked#ive had headaches like this before but this is the worst one in a LONG time. it wasn’t a migraine bc those are in one specific spot iirc but#this was like… my ENTIRE face and the source of the pain migrated from my jaw to my temple to the bridge of my nose to the back of my head#etc etc and it kept moving around and was so sharp i didn’t even have the strength to open my eyes or walk around. and i think it was making#me interpret hunger as nausea. also i took my temperature bc i was flashing hot and cold and was like 2 degrees under normal body temp and#felt so weak and shaky and had body aches too. lol 😍 hpefully the worst of it is over but my head still hurts a little and im so scared itll#happen again. that was by far my worst fasting experience ever#delete later
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this has been a difficult, awful week only for it to end friday at 3pm with an invitation to interview for a management position next week.
#like of all the times to finally get an interview#and im extremely preoccupied with something#plus ofc today is my only day off#i feel like i have no time for regular job stuff ive been so stressed out#then add that this had been one of the worst weeks of my life#and that it will continue next week#im already dreading tuesday and then after tuesday to see what happens#and then i have a program with my director thursday i havent even started preparing for#and then friday i have the interview#literally all of my brain space has been used this week worrying myself sick and now i need to prepare for an interview#todays my only day to go shopping for an interview outfit since i work sun-thurs#i havent interviewed in almost 6 years#and im not like completely sold on this job#i just cant believe everything seems to be happening all at once#literally any other time i woukdve been so much more excited and chill#this fall has been awful#this whole year has kinda fucking sucked tbh#at least i did get a manager interview though i guess 😩#i was starting to think i was never gonna even get the opportunity to try for the next level#me
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Cant wait to go to my therapist to hear her ask me why i havent started going to driving school or why i havent got a real job yet for the 384748th time
#witchy.txt#the appointment is this thursday#and yeah i am ecstatic at the thought. can you tell? ugh#like everytime i go there i feel like im never enough#going to a comic course? tou should focus on driving school#writing an original story? you should focus on finding a real job#drawing said story as a comic? thats cool but what about being more independent#BITE BITE BITE BITE GRRRRRRRRRR#like why cant i di things my way for once? dont tell me what to do#like im trying. im trying so hard but im still waiting for the papers to get to driving school!! like wtf its not my fault!!#also if i dont have a drivers license i cant have a fucking job so chill the fuck out for a second#i am doing things my way and sure i could do better but give me a break.#i can barely function and im finally having a not so bad time for once and you still tell me that im not good enough? fuck off
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covid positive because my company refuses to enforce masks at their in-person meetings
#there was a local event thursday#i get there in my kn 95 to find im the only person on the entire floor wearing one#of around 40 in our room and 90 across the floor#i had to take it off to eat#i never should have gone#so Friday they send out an email notification saying someone there was positive and we were exposed#but i didn’t fucking see this because i get like 30 emails a day and i took friday off to travel out of state#so i travel friday and stay at my friends house until sunday#sunday night i start feeling bad and have a gut feeling this isn’t something good#but i test negative so i stay at my partners house to help with anxiety#monday i go home and feel even worse and then i test positive#and this morning is when i finally see the email from friday saying we were exposed#like…#why didn’t they text me or call me instead??????#if i’d fucking known on friday i would have cancelled my plans and avoided exposing 6+ people!!!!
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#i am actually so unbelievably livid right now#like i do not know what to do with the anger that is being held in my body at the moment#ive just tested positive for covid after being sick for a few days#i just tested negative on saturday before i went to a concert and before i saw my partner#so i thought i was fine#but no! actually if i have plans or want to take a fucking break literally ever someone gets sick (me this time) and the plans are ruined#i am legitimately struggling so badly with my mental health right now this might genuinely be a breaking point for me#i am fully at risk#yknow?#anyway#i feel fucking awful because i saw everyone and was doing normal stuff and i just have an immense amount of guilt about it#like#several people have said its fine but i dont believe them at all#ive asked my partner twice if theyre upset with me and theyve said no but i dont think thats the case#i dont know#i was supposed to go on a trip with them this weekend and weve had it planned for a month#and now im sick and we wont be able to go unless shes sick too or i test negative before saturday#and i have a fucking final on thursday and im feeling like im going to fucking **** ******#maybe im blowing it out of proportion! i dont know#but seriously this just happened like last month as well with another family member#we were all supposed to go on a trip to the beach and my brother got sick so only three of the seven of us went and it was kinda miserable#i swear to god i cant have anything good#i cant handle anything anymore#i dont want to live in this house and i dont want to speak with my family and i dont want to do school or work or anything else ever#the burden of being alive is immeasurable and i cant keep living with the responsibilities that come with it
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:^l
#winter is the worst thing to exist ever#i feel like apologizing for being negative but also like this is my blog .... so whatever#anyways these past weeks have been a living hell i havent been so close to swerving into oncoming traffic in a while#regulsr depressions being acting up like a bich bc i havent seen anyone other than my family in weeks#i wake uo at 6 whatever am. go to work. go home. make dinner for my family. sit and read webcomics for a bit. go to sleep.#havent even been sleeping well lmao one of the onky pleasures in my life is being unconcious so this sucks#i had skating classes once a week but that last last thursday so like i dont even get that anymore#and i dont have any monry to sign myself uo for anything else bc i gotta give my mom 1k and i need to pay my credit card n student loans#anyways regular depression + seasonal depression + pmsing like fucking crazy + got in a fight w my mom again#bc shes telling me to get married lmfao but like i dont even leave the house ? im too busy taking care of her kids ?#and i dont even have money to do fun things bc im too stressed about giving her money for my shit head brother ? also i have no friends ?#friend 1 lives in a city 8 hrs away fridnd 2 scheduke doesnt line up w mine often and hes got exams n shjt also hes dealing w his own stuff#friend 3 is my ex who my mom would literally kill me if she knew i was seeing lol so like my options are very limited !#anyways either im gonna have to leave the country or kill myself soon bc i cant live like this for too much longer#i keep telling myelf like oh when the kids are a bit older i can finally leave but like goddd i cant do this for another 3 years#i have literally nothing to live for i hope i die soon#gommywords#sorry if u are one of my 3 aformentioned friends n u read this shit lol i dont have the courage or strength to talk to ppl about things
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#whys getting out of bed and eating something the hardest thing ever#i feel so 🫠🫠🫠#im so frustrated like just get up and eat its not that hard#everything feels awful#i haven’t had a proper meal for 3 days and WHY? no clue#now its too late.. anything i eat will make me feel terrible i hate that it always gets to this point#i feel like im suffocating the air circulation is terrible in here my window is too small#and its too hot outside ffs its december what the fuck#also whenever i open the windows mosquitos always come in and bite me it’s annoying#and i have to work on my group project but honestly im too depressed to do anything#its due on thursday… and i haven’t done ANYTHING#i have a mid tomorrow and a final on wednesday im so stressed but i can’t fucking get out of bed!!!!! its so frustrating#i need a break from everything im so burnt out even from my friendships#everything is going to shit 🫠
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im about to go to sleep but everybody needs to wish me good luck i have 3 whole finals this week
#wind howls#i have so many weird feelings#tomorrow is arguably the hardest what with it being the philosophy exam and having to write almost a thousand words abt freedom and not#i am terrified. i want to be done with philosophy so desperately and i want to know and prove to myself that i CAN be okay at school#and yet what a thrill it is to be terrified of a final exam. it means i did manage to make it this far !#whether im confident or not doesnt matter. what matters is that im taking this damn final no matter what. scared and all#im gonna fucking do it ! and even if i dont pass it ill still have done it and im going to be proud of myself for being able to do it !!!#im terrified ! but im glad i get to be a lil scared and know ill still do it and itll pass rather than letting th stress get the best of me#which is probably what i wouldve done 2 years ago. ive grown baby ! im celebrating that for my own wellbeing and because i deserve to.#tuesday is my french final (even though theres another exam afterwards. dont as me why. its dumb as hell but this is the biggest one)#and thursday i gotta hand in my exploration final (and then ill be done with that!) and present my gym class exam#which im not afraid of. i have to come up with a training routine for like an hour and present it to a classmate and theyll grade me#surprisingly its the one im most confident in. i love being an instructor and i miss it ! and ive built lectures for days that were worse !#so im actually quite excited for that one hehehe#ah ! i need to sleep now though#everybody wish me luck ! goodnight !
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finally kissing you
the relationship you had with art was complicated to say that least. you had always tried your best to keep your feelings for him a secret. you didnt want to be just another girl pining over him. you were his best friend after all, your job was to support him, not fall in love with him. but that didnt matter anymore, cause you had fallen in love with him. and now you were burdened with the task of having to pretend like he was just your best friend.
-
it was a usual thursday night, after training you would head over to art’s place to study or watch a movie. tonight you decided the homework could wait and put on your favorite movie.
his arms clung around your waist as his head lay softly on your chest. you raked your fingers through his curls with a soft smile on your face. it was times like this you truly thought your relationship could be something more. that soon came crashing down.
“thank you y/n” he whispered so lightly you almost missed it.
“for what?” you softly giggled.
“just everything, i cant imagine what id do without you. dont tell patrick but i think youre my favorite best friend” he replied, quickly gazing up at you with a soft smile before snuggling back into you.
best friend. you knew thats all that this was, but the subtle reminder hit harder than youd like.
“yeah of course” you let out a small laugh to cover the break in your voice, tears threatening to spill.
you could tell by his change in breathing he had fallen asleep. before you knew it hot tears were spilling down your cheeks. this was so stupid. you knew you were just his best friend. but here you were crying as his arms clung around you and his breath tickled your neck.
you couldn’t take it anymore. you slowly slipped out of his grip to grab your things. taking one last look at his peaceful state, you left.
-
waking up on friday morning was honestly a shit show. you felt pathetic and just wanted to forget about all of it. so you decided it was time to move on.
it was no secret you had guys who would do anything to go out with you. you never paid them any attention cause you had art. but it was time to get over him so you decided to text a guy from one of your classes and asked if he wanted to hang out. he of course said yes so now you were in your dorm putting on your best dress to hopefully forget about art.
you truly felt so good about yourself and were excited to hang out with someone that wasnt patrick or art.
the date had gone shockingly well. the two of you had a lot in common and were laughing practically the entire time. still, a part of you ached. you felt yourself thinking back to art but tried to snap out of it as soon as you could.
he had offered to walk you back to your dorm which you kindly accepted. walking through the courtyard as the moon shined down you couldn’t help but wish it was art you were walking with. but you weren’t, you had to stop thinking like this.
“thank you for tonight, i had a lot of fun” you stop, looking up at him.
“yeah of course, im just glad i got the opportunity to take such a gorgeous girl out” he replys with a smile.
a blush creeps up on your face as he slowly starts to lean in. cupping your face with his hand, noses slightly touching.
“hey!” a voice you recognize all too well is shouting from behind you. oh my god.
stepping back from the boy you look to see art standing there. a flood of embarrassment washes over you.
“do you have a problem?” the guy asks putting his hand around your waist to pull you in.
“yeah i do get your hands off my girl!” art comes storming up pulling you away from him.
“you two are dating?” the guy steps back, clearly confused.
“no!”
“yes!”
you and art shout at the same time. looking at him with the most confused look on your face.
“it looks like you two have some things to sort out. i’ll see you in class y/n” he states with a sad smile and walks away.
“what the fuck is your problem?!?” you yell, turning back to face art.
“what is my problem? you’re the one who ditched me to go make out with some random guy!” he yelled back.
“why are you so mad?!”
“im not mad! i just think theres better people you could be kissing” he confesses.
“oh and who would that be?” you ask, angrily getting closer to him.
“me” he whispers.
“what?” every thought you had was now thrown out the window.
“i want you to kiss me” he confesses, stepping closer to you.
“but im just your…best friend” you whisper, feeling yourself get nervous under his gaze.
“y/n i think youre the love of my life”
his hands come up to cup your face.
“so can i please kiss you” he asks, desperation written all over his face.
without saying a word you smash your lips onto his.
#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#mike faist#mike faist x reader#challengers
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# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU
✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.
✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy
✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.
✰ — word count ~3k LOL
nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.
even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.
you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.
you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.
you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.
'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'
one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.
'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.
she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.
the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.
you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.
it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.
it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.
just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.
you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.
──────
"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.
gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.
you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.
"what is it, mr. gojo?"
he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?
"i woke up late today."
"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"
"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."
gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.
"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."
you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.
"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."
you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.
"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."
you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.
you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.
no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.
"nothing about this is funny."
you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."
"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.
you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.
you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.
"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.
you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.
you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.
at least you were self-aware.
your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.
you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.
just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."
you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."
satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."
that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.
nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.
you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.
so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."
you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.
"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."
gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.
──────
the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.
you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.
you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"
you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."
it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.
"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."
he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.
──────
gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.
you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.
"miss y/n, you should try some."
you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.
"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."
"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."
you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."
you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.
you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.
he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.
you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.
"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.
gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.
he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.
"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."
you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.
"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.
he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."
his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.
before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.
satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.
you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.
you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.
a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.
it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.
you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.
gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.
it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?
you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.
gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.
there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.
he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"
of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.
"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."
gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."
"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.
"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.
you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."
"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."
"it's still office hours. it's only polite."
gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.
"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."
you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.
"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.
"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."
you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.
"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."
what was the harm in discovering more?
230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum
#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x reader fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x reader fluff#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#gojo imagine#gojo imagines#gojo x y/n#gojo x you
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under the moon
carmy berzatto x reader
final part of about a girl
masterlist
warnings: drinking & drug use (marijuana), carmy being mean, clubbing, jealousy, so much dirty talk, bdsm dom/sub undertones, oral sex (f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, choking, lots of cursing as usual
wc: 9.2k
a/n: i am so excited for you all to read this. & sorry for the slight delay, it took me a bit longer than expected to finish! thank you so so much for your continued support on this series! i genuinely never thought people would like it so much🥺 enjoy!
foster the people - under the moon
she had begrudgingly awoken the following morning, head feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, eyes swollen and sore. the bright morning light streams through her open blinds, soaking the room in warm sun. she groans, throwing the duvet over her completely, praying her bed would open up into a sinkhole and swallow her completely. she snakes her arm out, reaching around the nightstand for her phone, pulling it back in. she had overslept about an hour, meaning she would have to heavily compromise on her morning routine and practically sprint to work if she wanted to make it on time. she considered it shortly, but ultimately pulled up her contacts app on her phone, opting to call in sick. she scrolls, the first option being carmy. she wanted so badly to hear his voice, yet her stomach drops at the thought of him, so she quickly scrolls past the contact to find sydney’s number instead. the girl hesitates for a moment, before dialing, a point of deliberation deep within her. she wanted to be as far as away from the man as she could possibly be, the thought of his mere face bringing her a feeling of anguish. on the other hand, she wanted to bear witness to his demeanor— reassure herself that he’s as affected as she is over last night’s encounter.
he’s probably fine, she thinks to herself, lips twisted into a frown, he’s the one who didn’t want to keep it going. she tries to push the thought away, a hot pang of regret seeping through her body. she burrows deeper into the safety of her bed, tapping the icon next to syd’s contact, bringing the phone to her ear. the line rings, once, twice, three times, then a click.
“hello?” she hears at the other end.
“hey, syd,” she greets, groggily, “um, i'm sorry to do this to you guys, but i can’t come in today,” she explains, clarifying, “im sick, my stomach really hurts.” it was a white lie, told out of self preservation, knowing if she saw carmy’s face she surely would feel sick. she hears sydney take a breath.
“uhh, yeah, that’s fine. we should be fine,” she assures, continuing to ask, “are you still gonna come out with us tomorrow night?” syd pushes a piece of silverware neatly into place, finishing the last table as she watches her business partner come out from the kitchen, walking towards her.
“tomorrow night?” the girl questions, flipping her duvet off her head for oxygen.
sydney chides her name, “tomorrow night, tina’s birthday? drinks, dancing, i’ve been telling you about it since last thursday?” glancing at her coworker, curious about who she’s talking to. sydney mouths the girl’s name to him, carmen then gesturing to ask for the phone.
“yes, syd, thank you! i will be there. i’m sorry i’ve been so scattered this week,” she replies, sitting up out of bed.
“you’re fine, we can unwind tomorrow,” sydney replies, mouthing “okay, okay,” to the persistently gesturing man, “here, let me put you on with carmy,” she replies, going to hand the phone to the man.
“no!” the other line interrupts, more frantic than she meant to sound, met with silence. “i mean,” she tries to backtrack, “i don’t want him to worry about me. don’t put me on,” the girl stumbles out.
“welll, he’s saying that he wants to talk to you… so, i don’t really have much of a choice, okay, bye!” the chipper girl quickly tells her.
fuck, she mentally exclaims, i should’ve just gone in if i was gonna have to talk to him anyways.
she hears her name through the line, tone questioning, as carmy takes the phone from syd.
“hi,” she responds to his beckon, quietly.
“you’re calling in?” he asks, holding a finger up to syd, walking towards the back office for some privacy. she tightly closes her eyes, finding her words.
“i, uh, don’t feel good,” she responds, tone shakier than she had anticipated. the line goes silent for a minute, the girl mindlessly fiddling with a loose thread on her comforter.
“are you avoiding me?” comes his question, catching her slightly off guard.
“no, carmy” she quickly defends, “i don’t feel well.”
“what’s wrong?” he asks, taking a seat in his office chair.
“my, um,” she hesitates, “my stomach hurts.”
he’s not sure he believes her, leaning back in the chair and running a hand over his face.
“okay,” he concedes, letting out a sigh, “just, uh, take it easy today then.” he hears her hum in agreement, pausing before continuing.
“are you going to that club tomorrow?” carmy asks her, “for tina’s birthday?”
she dangles her legs over the edge of the bed, mindlessly kicking back and forth.
“are you?” she asks, eager to skip out on anything besides shutting herself safely inside and maybe putting her fingers to good use to prove carmen nonessential, the memories of his touch flooding her mind incessantly.
“i think i have to,” he responds, “i already told syd i would,” his eyes glancing back towards the open office door. she softly smiles, knowing she was in the same boat.
“okay,” standing and walking to her closet, looking for a club-suitable dress, “i’ll go too, then,” a small smirk in her tone. he can’t fight the smile that breaks his face, eyebrows raising slightly.
“carmy, my phone?” he hears from the hallway, a reminder of his surroundings, his time talking with the girl running short.
“yeah!” he yells back to the hallway, “hey, uh, feel better today, okay? i’ll see you tomorrow night,” carmy tells the girl, watching sydney walk into the office.
“thanks, carm. bye,” she responds, the call ending shortly thereafter. she had felt slightly guilty abandoning her shift, all for the purpose of not having to be tortured with his presence, a reminder of what had transpired the previous night. their casual encounters had quickly morphed into something else within her brain, feeling a deep sense of affection towards the man, chastising herself because she had worried about this and continued anyways.
she makes her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water over her face, the morning chill seeping through her bones. would it be so wrong for them to keep seeing each other? they were consenting adults—albeit boss and employee— both previously oblivious to the profound magnetism of their natural connection. she wanted to pursue things with him further, increasingly affected by his caring words and gestures, no longer being able to deny the twinge in her chest she gets when picturing his face.
but she knew he didn’t want the same.
why would he? she thought, it isn’t what he signed up for. he seemed focused on his work, like he would have limited time for a relationship.
she opted to get a few chores done around the house, taking advantage of the day off, sticking on the thought of him, though, finding herself looking through her closet for a dress with him in mind.
—
the space is hot, crowded, alive with movement. tickets pour from the printer one by one.
“it goes to four cousin, for the third time,” carmy scolds, “stop fucking with the tickets already,” hands busied with removing a large pot from the burner.
“hold on, i’m fixing them,” richie argues back, clutching a mess of paper.
carmy paces to the walk in refrigerator, grabbing a large container and making his way through the sea of bustling employees, checking on stations. he was running on fumes, only getting a solid three hours of sleep the previous night, plagued by a swarming head and uneasy stomach.
it’s best this way, he tells himself over again, easiest, hoping that if he repeats it enough times it will start to feel true.
“alright send these out to six, please,” he hears from the front of the kitchen, glancing over at the expo, seeing the recently plated entrees.
“fuck, richie, four!” carmen snaps, his hand flying out.
“jesus, alright, four!” richie yells, widening his eyes, shaking his head, continuing. “calm down, carm, she’ll be back thursday,” a snicker on his face
carmen freezes in his spot, skin beginning to burn. his eyes dart to richie, jaw twitching.
“shut the fuck up,” he bites, venom in his tone, trying to push himself further into his work to outlet the growing frustration. he hears the other man chuckle knowingly, glancing at carmen.
“okay, sore spot!” richie pokes, organizing the last few tickets, smile on his face. the chef doesn’t reply, beginning to quickly chop vegetables, unsure of what would slip off his tongue if he opened his mouth.
it was unclear to him why he was unable to regulate himself when it came to someone even mentioning her, figuring it was temporary, and would slowly dissipate once they had some distance from each other. carmy deeply exhales, glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until he would be able to see her again.
—
it was incredible how fast days would slip by when she didn’t have to go to the restaurant, taking care of domestic matters and recharging from the strenuous week so far, not thinking of carmen.
she goes to sleep that night wearing his clothes, arms wrapped around herself as if the sensation could ever come close to his touch, waking the next morning to eagerly check a phone empty of notifications. on her second day off she works on assignments for her classes, calls an old friend and grabs herself lunch from a bagel shop nearby. upon returning home she grabs a pair of earbuds and spends a few hours outside in the sunlight, mending the cracks in her heart, falling asleep on her balcony sofa and letting the sun kiss her better. the light of the afternoon seeps into the evening, painting the city in a soft yellow blanket, the girl slowly blinking awake. she watches a few cars drive by, a warm breeze shifting the trees, slowly sitting up and stretching, checking the time on her phone. she has a few hours to get ready before meeting everyone for drinks, her body relaxing at the confirmation. her eyes glance down past the time, seeing two new messages on her screen.
carmy: 416 s clark street
carmy: do you need a ride?
she unlocks her phone, staring at the gray bubbles for what seems like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keys. she begins to type a response, “no. gonna walk,” then quickly deletes it, knowing he would insist on driving her.
why is he trying to be so nice still?
she feels a twinge of irritation, quickly shutting off the phone, opting to not reply to his message. he was a hard man to understand, his actions contradicting his words more often than not—declaring the two finished, then continuing to pursue contact, referring to them as a “no strings” relationship and then calling her baby and sweetheart. it was confusing more than anything, beginning to take an emotional toll on the young woman. she felt incredibly tense the past few days, mind prickling with anxieties and insecurities, desperate to feel some type of release.
fuck him, she thinks, standing and opening her sliding glass door, going inside, i’m gonna forget about it tonight. she stalks to her closet, i’m gonna find a hot stranger and just dance, pulling out a short, skin tight club dress and holding it in front of herself, facing the mirror. she wanted him out of mind completely, settling with trying to replace his touch with someone else’s tonight no matter how much her heart objected. she puts music on, setting the dress on her bed and undresses, studying herself in the mirror for a moment before making her way to the bathroom and turning on the shower. she takes a long while to let the hot water to melt onto her skin, cherishing the white silence of the shower head. the young woman takes her time getting ready, piecing herself back together with an extensive routine. once she’s in a robe with her hair wrapped up she walks to the fridge, grabbing a seltzer with alcohol to ease the slight oncoming nerves. she meticulously does her makeup and styles her hair, shamefully wondering if carmy would like how she’s dressed up, checking her phone to see it’s time to head over. dropping her robe and zipping into the dress she had picked out for the night, the girl examines her reflection, admiring the work she had put in. she looked hot, turning to the side and checking out her profile, curves accentuated by the tight fabric. satisfied, she mists herself with perfume and grabs her heels and purse, walking to the door. she swings the heavy metal barrier open to reveal a tepid july night, air thick with moisture. she balances against the frame, slipping into her heels and sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, stepping into the dusk of the evening and letting the door lock behind her. she glances at her phone for walking directions, head slightly fuzzy from the seltzer she had drank on an empty stomach. her short walk to the club garners many gawking stares from passerby’s, surprisingly not making her feel as small as they usually seem to, the goal was to catch eyes tonight, right?
she squints, identifying bright flickering lights in the distance, the border of the club’s sign. there were a few people dispersed outside, all either smoking or talking on the phone, or both. she brushes her hair back, walking towards the entrance when she hears her name called from behind her.
“- yo!” turning to see marcus and angel leaning against the brick wall of the establishment. she smiles, turning and walking towards them, the distinct odor of marijuana arising from the cigarette marcus clutched in between his thumb and pointer.
“hi,” she grins, tilling her head slightly.
“hey,” the two respond, almost in synchronicity. marcus holds the rolled paper to her, “want some?”
she smiles, plucking it from his fingertips and bringing it to her lips, deeply inhaling to soften the inevitable drop her stomach would endure at the sight of carmen. the ember burns quickly, and she’s surprised at the harshness.
she hands it back with a slow exhale, thanking marcus.
“nervous?” angel chimes in, trying to hide a smile. the girl pauses for a moment, is it so obvious?
“i haven’t been to a club in a while,” she responds, crossing her arms. it was partially true, but she knew the real reason for the relentless fluttering in her chest.
the man stubs the filter onto a nearby trash can, dusting his hands off on his pants. “you guys ready to go in?”
the other man affirms, pushing himself off the wall and turning to walk to the front. the girl stays behind, hesitating.
“you two go ahead. i’m gonna air out,” she responds, leaning back, basking in the slight breeze. the men both crack a smile before walking together to the entrance, leaving the girl in her solitude. she closes her eyes for a moment, deeply inhaling the night air, listening to the reverberation of bass through the walls of the club. she feels a cloud of haze overwhelm her, the mixture of substances seeping through her in a warm glow. she hears footsteps approach.
“hey.”
her eyes snap open, breath escaping her at the sight of carmy. he looked polished, buttoned up into a dress shirt, hair fluffy and face cleanly shaved. she nearly salivated at his presentation, the buzz she felt complicating her decision to ignore him.
“hi,” she shortly responds, lip slightly pouted, watching as his eyes examine her, floating down her form. he snaps his eyes away, clearing his throat.
“you, uh, get my text?”
she nods, looking up to him, meeting his eyes with unwavering contact. he walks closer to the girl, slightly shaking his head and furrowing his brow in confusion, an unspoken gesture to elaborate.
she looks away, arms wrapping around herself.
“i didn’t need a ride,” she answers, “i walked.”
carmen’s jaw visibly tightens, feeling a twinge of irritation.
“yeah. uh, i asked because i didn’t want you walking here alone,” he explains in a slightly frustrated tone.
“yeah, well i made it,” she retorts, aggravation bubbling beneath the surface, “so you don’t need to worry about it.”
she didn’t know why he was getting under her skin so easily tonight, her throat suddenly feeling hot and tight, raking her eyes over the top of his chest exposed by an open button.
“well i do,” the man argues, “i don’t want you walking by yourself. anywhere,” he solidifies in a stern tone. the girl lets out a scoff.
“you’re acting like you’re my boyfriend,” she spits, fed up with the sense of entitlement he felt over her.
“i’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend,” he quickly asserts, tone ringing out much harsher than he intended.
she knows this to be a fact, but still can’t help the drop she feels in her chest when he says it aloud like that. she opens her mouth to say something, then quickly closes it, biting her lip, eyes darting to the ground. he instantly regrets saying it, brushing his fingers through his hair, grabbing it, studying the girl’s dejection with a pit in his stomach.
“whatever, carmen,” she dismisses, shoving past him. her lungs felt tight, eyes burned, mentally cursing herself, rushing to the club entrance to distance herself from the man. she shoves the door open, immediately being engulfed by sound and swarming bodies. she blinks back a few tears, deeply inhaling and exhaling, zoning into the environment. spotting the group of her coworkers at a corner table, she shufflles through the crowd to approach them. syd immediately spots the girl, calling out to her and waving. she plasters on a smile as the rest turn to watch her, all unanimously greeting the new arrival. she makes her way over to tina, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, wishing her happy birthday. she squeezes into her seat in between sydney and richie, turning to the tall man to ask, “so where’s my drink?”
richie lets out a boisterous laugh, throwing an arm around the girl.
“i don’t think you’re gonna have much of a problem getting drinks tonight, sweetheart,” he teases, as carmy approaches the table, receiving welcomes and pulling out a chair to sit. she flickers her eyes over to carmen to find he’s staring at her, quickly tearing them back away and leaning over to syd.
“come get a drink with me. i really need it,” she pleads, placing her hand on sydney’s forearm. the other girl agrees, the two sliding out from under the table and making their way to the bar, arms linked.
—
why did i say that?
he watches her rush to the front entrance, his body frozen, processing the conversation.
why did i say that?
he begins to go after her, reaching his arm out before she swiftly maneuvers the door open, slipping inside.
why the fuck did i say that?
it wasn’t completely untrue— he wasn’t her boyfriend— something he had failed to make entirely made clear before that point. he wasn’t oblivious to the way they had grown closer, either, the thought of her nestled deeply within a sweet spot in his heart. yet he had done nothing to prevent it from happening, and once thinking of it, he finds he’s only ever done the opposite, his behavior towards the girl falling far closer to a boyfriend than a hookup. he begins following in her footsteps, opening the club door and immediately becoming overwhelmed with the number of people crowding the floor. carmy cranes his neck, watching her figure weave through the crowd and towards a corner table. he pushes through the wall of people, seeing her take her seat, approaching the table to receive greetings from his coworkers. his eyes are trained on her, wrapped into richie’s arm, smiling until she locks eyes with him. then it drops, slightly. it makes him feel sick. he turns to fak at his right and engages in conversation as he watches her rise from the table alongside sydney. she looks like a model of some type, he thinks, with dark makeup defining her striking eyes and hair tousled over her shoulder, tight black dress riding up over the skin of her thighs. he trails down her face to her neck. when she moves her hair behind her ear he can see a small purple mark left from his teeth, eyes fully fixated on the spot. the bass of the music thumps, reverberating through the club, floorboards shaking. he tries to keep up in the table’s conversation whilst simultaneously keeping a close eye on the girl, shifting to see her order at the bar through the moving bodies. she throws a shot back, grimacing at the taste, laughing while saying something to syd (he was never very good at reading lips) and raising her hand to flag the bartender once more. the table bursts into laughter, carmen’s eyes drawing back to his coworkers, watching as tina shoves richie’s hand with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes. he feels an inclination to step outside for a smoke, head buzzing with stimulation from the lively environment, wondering how long he should stay before it would be acceptable to leave.
“oh my gosh, thank you baby,” he hears tina say, glancing over to see the girl having returned from the bar, placing a fruity drink in front of the woman.
she smiles, returning to her seat as the current song ends, fading into the next. sydney and the girl gasp in tandem at the distinctive opening, locking eyes with each other and grinning.
“we’re gonna go dance!” the girl excitedly calls, taking syd by the hand and navigating towards the dance floor, crowded with moving bodies. it’s hot, but fluid, the two girls beginning to move together, grinning. carmen watches her, eyes cutting through the crowd. she moves her hips, bringing her hands up her body, flashing lights illuminating her in colors. the sight was hypnotic almost, eyes trained on her, tense in his seat. she throws her hair back, circling her body, closing her eyes.
richie leans over to him, “you, uh, sure she did just bartending over at ricky’s?” elbowing him slightly.
carmen doesn’t respond, eyes fixated on her gyrating movements, jaw tensing, painfully aware of all the eyes she’s gathered around the club. she continues dancing after the first two songs, even when sydney makes her way back to the table in need of rest. carmy tried to not make it so obvious he was watching the girl, grateful some of his other coworkers had joined the crowd on the dancefloor, completely entranced by her movement. he tears his gaze away, standing up find the bar, eager to ease the incredible tension he felt pent up within him. she seemed to be having fun dancing, and in a way it felt refreshing to watch the girl so loose and carefree. carmy couldn’t help the sense of possessiveness he felt, though, watching her move like that, seeing the way other men looked at her, like meat. it made him sick.
he orders a beer once the bartender makes their way over, song fading into the next. he turns to lean against the counter, eyes searching for her as he brings the bottle to his lips with a long swig. he feels a pang in his chest, as he finds her, hand on another man’s arm, leaning to whisper something in his ear. he closely watches as the man smiles, nods, placing his hands on her hips and getting closer to her. carmen’s skin immediately becomes hot, teeth clenching, taking a deep breath through his nose to try and calm himself.
what the fuck is she doing?
his eyebrows furrow, watching as she dances, bringing her arms up, turning, moving against the stranger. he feels physically sick, stomach churning at the way this man was touching her navel, hips, pressing himself to the back of her. carmy tightly grips the bottle, unable to rip his eyes away, the girl glistening in the light. she throws her head back against the man’s shoulder, hair draping over him, grinding to the music. her eyes find carmen’s quickly, intentionally locking gazes as she brings the strangers hands higher, up her waist, ribs, her mouth falling opening. carmen stands, knocking the barstool off balance with the force of his movement, shoving through the crowd, disregarding the dirty looks, quickly making his way to the dance floor. he grabs the girl’s wrist, pulling her from the stranger’s grasp, tightly gripping her as he walks towards the back door, dragging her behind him, feeling the struggle of her arm as she tries to pull away. he turns, putting a hand on her lower back, ushering her through the club, shoving the heavy metal door open and bringing her outside, finally letting go when the two are far from the door. he brings a hand to his hair, grabbing, turning to face the girl.
“what the fuck, carmen?” she yells, ripping her hand away from him, “what’s your issue?” her words slightly under-enunciated.
he bites down on his lip, meeting her eyes, hand coming to his hip. he hardly had an explanation for the girl, driven by a redhot primal jealousy, blood boiling at the sight of someone else’s hands on her, grabbing, feeling her like that.
“what’s my issue?” he scoffs, “why the fuck were you dancing like that?” his face reddening, pulse quickening. she lets out a laugh, leaning back against the wall, gazing up at him.
“why?” she asks, “are you jealous?”
he shakes his head, unconsciously stepping closer to her.
“i’m not jealous,” he argues, jaw set firmly, eyes casting down onto her.
“yeah?” she leans forward, further closing the distance between them. he nods, fixated on the droop of her eyes, the part of her lips, the way she looked up at him through her dark lashes.
“so what if i fuck him?” she asks softly, a smirk playing on her lips, “will you be jealous then?”
he lets out a breath, fire growing at her words.
he shakes his head, “you’re not gonna fuck him,” asserting with confidence. she tilts her head, alcohol emboldening her.
“how do you know?” she challenges, well aware of how affected she was by his tone, his demeanor, the look in his eyes. carmy gets closer to her face.
“because he’s not gonna fuck you like i do,” his voice deep, low, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that lights her core ablaze. the girl finds her breath hitches, mouth going dry, gaze flickering to his lips. he rests his hand on the brick behind her, leaning closer, “hear all those pretty sounds you make.”
she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to shake her senses of the overwhelming lust she felt. she was supposed to stay angry at him, he was being an asshole. maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs, or the way he towered over her, but she felt no anger, only replaced by want, a slick ache growing at the way he seems to claim her for himself. she takes a deep breath, body feeling as if it were buzzing, head cloudy.
“you are so fucking confusing,” she whispers, bringing her forehead to lightly touch his. he rests his hand on her lower back, relishing in the warmth of the contact, breathing in her scent. she was completely right about him, he thinks, never saying what he really means to her. if he could have what he really wanted, she would be his, only his. a girlfriend.
“yeah,” he takes a shaky breath, “yeah. i know,” reply coming, hesitantly. “i’m sorry, -” he breathes out, her name sounding sweet on his tongue. she blinks away the tears that want to form, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, a small tremble of the lip. she opens her mouth to say something, eyes tearfully meeting his.
the metal door creeks open, momentarily releasing the booming music out into the alleyway, breaking the trance as a few smokers congregate by the back. the girl changes her mind, mouth shutting. she releases his shirt, pulling away, stepping around the man and smoothing her appearance, pads of her fingers coming to dry a few escaped tears. he watches her try and compose herself, shivering in her small dress. his heart clenches, feeling the overwhelming need to take care of her— wrap his arm around her, lead her back to his home, dress her in more of his clothes and watch her fall asleep. he shrugs off his light jacket, walking over to her and draping it over her shoulders without saying anything. she glances up at the man, engulfed by his warmth and the smell of him, ache in her chest.
“i’m gonna go home,” she whispers, swaying slightly.
“let me walk you,” he offers, hand coming to her upper back. she quickly shakes her head, taking a step away from him.
he sighs at her stubbornness, says her name.
“you’re drunk,” he observes, “let me make sure you get there okay.”
she hiccups, crossing her arms.
“ ‘m not drunk,” she slurs unconvincingly. he nods, letting out a breath, hand coming to rub his face.
“okay,” he concedes, “then, just… go back in with me for a sec. say bye to everyone.”
she meets his eyes, consideration running over her features, then nodding slowly. he puts his hand on the small of her back, steadying her as they walk back towards the large metal door. there’s a noticeable change in temperature difference as the two enter the club again, weaving through a sea of moving bodies, carmy holding tightly onto her, ushering her forward towards the corner table. he doesn’t miss the glances from his workers at the sight of the girl wearing his jacket, a few smiles cracked, looks exchanged. he ignores it, picks his beer back up as the girl excuses herself from the event, claiming to not feel good and chalking it up to drinking too much when she usually doesn’t partake. richie, surprisingly, says nothing, eyes trained on carmen, smirk plastered over his face.
“i’m gonna head out too,” carmy announces, “take her home.”
richie begins loudly laughing, clapping his hands together.
“jesus christ, i am right about everything!” he shouts, slamming his glass down onto the table. carmen’s skin begins to prickle with embarrassment.
“hey richie,” he chimes, “shut the fuck up.” he felt unbearably tense tonight between the day’s grueling shift, the girl dancing on another man, the newfound teasing, as if he were about to implode. he was in desperate need of some sort of release. carmy watches her, tightly clad fabric stretching over her ass as she leans down to give tina a hug. he felt guilty, almost, the way he had been shamelessly gawking at her throughout the night, the act doing nothing but intensify the burning he felt bottled up within him.
“i’m sorry i’m leaving so early, t,” he hears from her mouth, “i don’t feel very well.”
the older woman brushes the apology away, placing a kiss on the girl’s cheek.
“feel better, baby,” she coos, looking to carmen, “jeff, you make sure she gets into bed okay,” the command motherly in tone. he nods, coming to give tina a side hug, “ ‘night, t. happy birthday.”
—
the sidewalk pavement was in dire need of repair, cracks and bumps literally the surface, worsening the walk for people who weren’t drunk. she stumbles over a divot, instinctively grabbing onto carmy’s arm for balance, heels catching on every small crevice. she lets out a cry of frustration, stopping in her tracks.
“this is impossible,” she exclaims, reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel, “why don’t they fix this stupid street?”
he can’t help the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards. she was cute, even in her frustration. he crouched, slightly, leaning over, arms out.
“c’mere,” he tells her, “jump up.”
she falters, trying to retain independence in her drunken stubbornness, but ultimately accepts, the other option being continually tripping over herself for another mile. she puts her hands up on his shoulders, using him as leverage to boost herself up, his arms coming to wrap around the backs of her thighs. he hears her squeal, slightly, feeling as she pulls the short dress down to cover the curve of her ass. the man grits his teeth, shaking the mental image of it as he tightly grips the supple skin of her upper thighs. she’s easy to carry, surprisingly so, as he continues walking in the direction of her apartment building. a silence settles between the two of them, breaths falling in line with the gentle rhythm of his steps. she wraps her arms around him further, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, exhale tickling his neck. he clears his throat, glancing back at the girl, seeing her closed eyes.
“i, uh,” he hesitates, gathering his thoughts, “i fuckin’ hated seeing that guy touch you,” the confession slipping off of his tongue. he feels her smile slightly against his neck.
“i knew you would,” her reply comes softly. he lets out a small scoff, humored by what she admits.
“you’re a brat,” he asserts lowly, pressing his fingers into her skin. she splays her arms out, pushing her chest against his back, hand coming to rest on his bare collarbones.
“you were being a dick,” her words ringing truthfully, resounding throughout the man, feeling a pang of guilt.
“yeah. i know,” he agrees, eyes fixed forward, “i’m sorry.” carmen lets a cloud of silence engulf the two before vocalizing again.
“you know, i… really do wanna be with you,” he admits gently, soul bared. she pauses, soaking in his words, feeling almost as if a puzzle piece had been pushed into place.
“why not?” her question comes soft, sweet. he lets out a deep breath.
“you know why,” he quietly replies, the street lamps casting their two shadows as one. she does know why, aware of the sly glances the two received, apparent judgment surrounding a relationship with the power imbalance of theirs.
“well, i quit then,” she pouts, lips brushing against his skin, erupting him in goosebumps. he shakes his head.
“you can’t,” comes his rejection, “we need you,” expressing the fact with utmost sincerity. she hugs her arms around him tighter, smelling his cologne, his soap, a faint trace of cigarette smoke.
“i don’t care,” she protests in all of her stubborn glory, “i wanna be yours, carm.”
he feels himself surrender at her words, pulling her even closer.
“you’re mine,” he assures her, glancing back to meet her eyes, nodding, feeling warmth as if a bright light glowed from his chest. they can figure out the details later— he genuinely didn’t want her to quit, trying to remind himself it was the only way their relationship would be ethical. the man slows in pace as they approach the front of her building, letting the girl hop down, holding his hand out to steady her once her feet make contact with the ground. she gives a small smile, intertwining her arm with his, hand coming to rest on the mass of muscle as the two make their way to her building. she clutches onto him in her inebriated state as they scale the tall stairs leading up to her door. she fumbles with her keys, eventually unlocking the deadbolt and pushing the door open. she turns to face him, giving him sort of a puppy dog look, hoping he’ll want to follow her in. a smile breaks his face, studying her expression.
“i, uh, gotta make sure you get in bed okay,” he reminds her, gesturing inside. she grins, taking his hand, pulling him inside and shutting the door. the space was illuminated with strung lights, warm in hue, mystifying the room. he takes a deep breath, wrapped in her intoxicating scent, eyes scanning the room. he primarily notices how pristine it is, cozy, fragments of her soul framed over the walls and resting on shelves. it felt like a home, more than his ever has. she sets her keys and purse on a side table, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief, trudging to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses of water. when she hands it to him he can’t help but stare, focusing on her face, the ache for her insurmountable to anything he’s ever wanted before. he sets the glass down, hand coming to her lower back, deeply looking into her, past her beauty and towards her essence. he watches as her eyes flicker down to his lips, quickly coming back to meet his gaze. he’s in awe of her, almost, bringing both hands to the small of her back, squeezing her slightly, pulling her to him with ease. she lets out a breath at the action, hand coming to his forearm, feeling the flex of his tendons. he wants her all to himself, he thinks, leaning in towards her, raising his hand to cup the side of her face. she leans into the touch, turning, pressing a kiss to the base of his thumb, bringing her other hand to rest on his, biting the skin. he grasps her face at this, shoving his thumb into her mouth.
“suck,” he commands, voice low, watching in anticipation as she brings her lips around the digit, tongue circling eagerly, trying to take more of it into her mouth. he nearly falls apart at the sight, twitching, pulling her flush against him, dragging his thumb out of her mouth and over her bottom lip. he drops his hand to touch her neck, watching her lips, hearing his heart pound in his ears. she brings her grip to clutch onto his shirt, heavily breathing. he cherishes her expression, cheeks flushed and lips parted, glistening. carmen tightens his hand around her throat very slightly, leaning in to taste her, his lips gently pressing against hers, hearing her moan at the unexpected contact. she’s sweet, soft, eager, the slightest trace of alcohol on her lips. he hadn't realized how much he had been craving her taste until it graced his tongue, feeling almost as if a tension in him had alleviated. he wants more, tattooed fingers wrapping around her neck, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss. she melts into him, trying to keep up with the ferocity of his kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth. he groans, bringing his hand from her back to the curve of her ass, feeling, squeezing, pulling her in. he takes his hand off her throat, her leg slightly lifts, and he takes the opportunity to hoist it up over his hip, turning and pressing her into the counter, weight of his body against hers. it feels as if something had snapped within him, wanting to claim her all to himself, grabbing whatever he can of her, getting as close as possible, lips, tongues dancing in tandem. he presses a few slow kisses to her mouth, pulling away, forehead coming against hers, eyes shut. he listens to the sound of their breath, hand on her ass, fingers teasing the hem of her panties. she arches into his touch, body tingling, hot with desire. his hand comes up, then flies back down to smack her ass, the girl takes a sharp breath, firmly gripping it again after the impact.
“fuck,” she breathes, a hot swell in her lower stomach. he creeps his hand up the skin of her thigh, slipping under her dress, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs. her face grows hot at the way he takes command, shoving at the fabric until it slides down her calves and hits the floor. she steps out of them, breath shaky, drenched in anticipation, insides of her thighs growing wet. carmy gives her a final kiss before dropping to his knees in front of her, placing a few gentle kisses around her skin. she instinctively clamps her thighs at the sensation, the man bringing his hand to shove her leg to the side, exposing her glistening heat. he lets out a soft moan at the sight, closer than he’s ever been to her core, leaning forward to softly kiss her clit. the girl lets out a cry of surprise, hand flying to his head, the simple act sending a shock throughout her body. he brings his thumb and pointer finger to part her both of her lips, taking her image in, salivating slightly in anticipation. he casts his eyes up towards her face, flushed, mouth open. he leans forward, licking a long stripe up her wetness to her clit, swirling his tongue around the bud, pulling away. she pants, fingers tangled in his hair, arching towards him, wordlessly asking for more. he groans at the taste of her, a rush to his head, his cock, immediately diving in for more, lapping at her as if she’s the finest thing he’s had in his mouth. her knees begin to go weak, trembling slightly, trying to hold onto him for support.
“carmy,” she whimpers, “i can’t stand.”
this breaks his focus, bringing his eyes up to her with a glint.
“yeah?” he asks, “feel too good, baby?” a smirk growing on his face. she refuses to respond, tightly shutting her eyes and throwing her head back when he brings his thumb to slowly circle her clit, watching, gauging her reaction. he pulls his hand away, placing a small smack on the inside of her thigh, the girl gasping.
“answer me” he growls, breath tickling her mound, leaning to press a few more kisses to her swollen heat. she lets out a whine, grabbing his hair.
“it feels- fuck it feels so good carm,” she shakily admits, knees nearly buckling. satisfied with her answer he brings both hands to the base of her ass, lifting her with ease and setting her on the countertop. she hastily grabs his shirt and pulls him in, locking lips and tasting herself on his tongue, letting a sweet sound into his mouth. he breaks away, desperate to feel her wetness on his mouth again. he kisses the inside of her thigh, then leans in, flattening his tongue against her clit, gently lapping, a finger coming to tease her pooling entrance. she unintentionally bucks her hips at the sensation, prompting carmen to bring the length of his forearm to her inner thigh, shoving it open, holding her down. she brings her eyes to his tattooed arm splaying her open, heart pounding, trying to straighten herself, awaiting his touch. he continues his gentle licks, circling his finger around her wetness, then pushing the digit into her slowly, eyes darting up to watch her mouth fall open. he swirls his tongue around her engorged clit, then gently sucks, curling his finger deeply inside of her, beginning to establish a rhythmic motion. her pants turn to cries, pulling the man in by his curls. his hand grips the skin of her thigh, spreading her open, devouring her, pushing a second finger into her. her teeth clamp down onto her lip at the sensation, gripping around his digits, trying hard to keep her composure in front of the man. carmy, aware of this, increases the pace of his movement, pulling his mouth away from her, beginning to tease her clit with a feather-like touch of his tongue. her head falls back, smacking against the cabinet, a loud moan slipping through her lips.
“please,” she pleads, not sure for what, arching into carmen’s motion, hands grabbing whatever she can of him, the knot inside her stomach growing impossibly tight. he wants to feel her cum— clench around his fingers, see how long he can keep fucking into her until it’s too much— but he refrains, pulling his fingers out, soaked with her juices, standing up. her head jerks up to meet his eyes, panting, flushed, frustrated.
“whyy?” she whines, trying to pull the man back to her. he lets out a scoff, smirk creeping at the edges of his lips, hands on the tops her thighs, gripping.
“you think i’m gonna let you cum?” he asks, voice low, coming close to her face, “after that shit you pulled in the club?”
her lip pouts, face heating at his words, held down by his weight, trying to catch her breath. the girl opens her mouth to argue back, but decides against it, just wanting to feel him— leaning forward to kiss him softly, hungrily, hands coming to feel the muscles of his chest. he melts into the kiss, hands wrapping around her back.
“you don’t care, huh?” carmy teases between kisses, “just want me to keep touchin’ you,” pressing himself between her thighs, deepening their contact. she nods into the kiss, greedily reaching her hands down to pull his shirt up. he pulls away from her, taking it off completely, groaning as the girl runs her hands up his bare abdomen, then gently rakes her nails down, admiring the way his muscles flex under her touch. he grows a bit impatient, decides to pick her up, her legs coming to wrap around his back, carrying her to the bedroom. she grins at the way he holds her, hands gripping both of her ass cheeks, leaning down to kiss his neck in the short walk. when he drops her onto the plush duvet of her bed he leans over her, fingers grasping the side zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down to reveal the skin of her ribcage, waist, stopping right above her hip. they lock eyes and he searches her face for any signs of hesitation, finding only blown pupils and flushed cheeks. he grabs the hem of the dress, slowly pulling it down her body to expose her breasts, waist, stomach, pelvis, letting the fabric fall over her ankles to the floor. his eyes drink her in, sparks firing in his brain, bringing his hands to grasp her waist, thumbs resting over her stomach. carmy leans in, deeply kissing her, savoring her warmth, then rises, unbuckling his belt. she props herself up onto her elbows, watching the man slowly unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down. she lets out a heavy breath at the sight of the large bulge behind his briefs, straining against the cotton, curved upwards to the right. she sits up, inching towards the edge of the bed, seated in front of the man, gazing up at him in adoration.
“can i take these off?” she asks softly, fingers coming to hook into his briefs, pulling them slightly to reveal the deep v-line in his hips, light brown hair leading down to his covered pubic bone. her mouth was almost watering, looking up at him in anticipation. he grins at her eagerness, raising his eyebrows slightly, nodding his head, giving her permission to slip the waistband down over his hips, cock slapping against his stomach when she does so. she immediately grabs the length of his dick, heavy in her hand, giving it a few slow strokes, watching as he closes his eyes, breathing out heavily. her head feels fuzzy, wanting nothing more than for him to shove her back onto the bed and fill her completely, continuing to marvel at his thickness. he brings his hand to stroke the side of her face, fingers coming over her ear and threading through her hair, watching intently as she slowly jerks him off. she clenches her thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the growing ache, running out of patience.
“carm,” she whines, gripping his cock, gazing up at him, handsome face framed by a few messy curls, “i want it already.”
he lets a small smirk grace his face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek.
“yeah?” he asks, watching the girl quickly nod, bringing his face closer to his, lowering his voice, “you know i’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you tonight, right?”
she heats at his words, eyes widening, an expectant shiver making it’s way through her body and settling throughout her core. he doesn’t let her respond, grabbing her thighs and pulling her, back coming to the mattress, pelvis flush with his. he bends her legs into her chest, leaning over her, the tip of his cock briefly gracing her wetness before he brings his hand down to grip himself, running the tip through her slick folds, sliding up to nudge her clit. she tightly shuts her eyes, lets out a quiet moan at the sensation— almost enough to satisfy, but not quite. he continues thrusting through her folds, listening to the wet sounds, coating himself in her juices. she tries to resist the urge but she can’t, reaching down, grabbing his cock and sticking it inside of her, legs coming to wrap around his back to pull him in.
“fuckk,” he exclaims loudly, not expecting her desperation, suddenly engulfed in her warmth. he groans, trying to compose himself, bringing his hand to her throat, leaning in, pushing his hips forward to the hilt. she whimpers, cherishing the slight burn of fullness as he tightens his grip around her throat.
“this what you wanted?” he asks, voice gruff, fully draped over her, nuzzling a kiss under her ear. the way he speaks to her ignites a flame, emboldening her slightly. her eyes gleam.
“no,” she breathes, “i want you to fuckin’ move,” words laced with a tone. he lets out a short laugh, straightening, grabbing both her calves and propping them up over his shoulders, drawing out of her and then quickly snapping his hips forward. she gasps, hand flying up to her mouth. she feels the ridge of his head drag against her walls as he graciously begins to thrust into her, hands wrapped around her legs, eyes coming to watch her breasts bounce in time with his rhythm. her hand falls away from her mouth, a loud cry pouring from her lips. carmen revels in the sound as he continuously drives his hips forward, skin slapping against hers, gripping her left calf, turning to press a kiss into her ankle. his pace begins to satiate the relentless burn within her core, trying to take his length as deeply as possible.
“so good,” she whimpers, bringing her hands to her breasts, squeezing. carmy groans, slapping her outer thigh.
“where’d that attitude go?” he asks, pelvis flush against her, pulling closer, “huh?”
her brows furrow, opening her mouth to argue but falling short, a breathy moan replacing her words at the sensation of him deeply fucking into her. her body feels incredibly hot, nipples perked beneath her fingers, feeling herself approaching an edge. he grins, moving his hand to grip at her thigh, eyes scanning over the sight in front of him.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her, hips stuttering, trying to push away his quickly approaching orgasm. he pulls out of her, the girl’s eyes shooting open to object. carmy takes hold of her forearms, pulling her to stand, grabbing her hips and turning her around, pushing her forward. her knee comes to the bed, balanced on her other leg as he wraps his arm around her waist, hand on her ribcage and inserts himself back into her tightness.
“yes,” she cries, arching back against him and bringing her hand onto his arm, feeling the head of his cock thrust deeply upwards. the tingling in her core grows stronger; her head falls back onto his shoulder. carmen grunts, his free hand coming to find her clit, rubbing small, soft circles, feeling himself unravel at the intense pulse of her walls. he kisses her cheek, relentlessly pounding into her, the crescendo of her moans driving him higher and higher. his lips come right next to her ear, breath ragged.
“you my girl?” he asks, another kiss on the side of her face, bringing his hand from her ribs to her breast, gently squeezing.
she nods quickly, arm coming behind her to grab his hip, feeling him, tangible beneath her fingers.
“all yours,” she pants, “i’m all yours, carm.”
he groans at the sentiment, bottoming out inside of her, quickly circling her clit as her arousal grows slick on his fingers. she feels herself tumbling towards her edge, trying to physically hold onto him so as to not climax, fingers gripping into his skin.
“i’m-,” a cry falls from her mouth. he pulls the two even closer, wetness pouring from her at the continual thrusts, feeling the cues of her body approaching climax.
“let it go, baby,” he coos, lips pressed against her ear. with his simple command she feels an intense heat envelop her body, orgasm crashing against her like a wave. she goes limp in his arms so he grabs her tighter, bending her over the bed. her thighs begin to shake as carmen relentlessly snaps his hips, watching her intently, feeling a white hot pleasure seep through him. he’s ferociously grabbing at her, pulling her in as he approaches his edge, stutter of his hips as he bottoms out and releases himself into her with a loud groan. she feels the pressure of his cum against her walls, intense heat diffusing as she rides out the shocks of her orgasm. he collapses over her, hand coming to the bed, trying not to put his full weight upon her. their labored breaths harmonize, hearts pounding. carmy runs a hand over her lower back, soothingly rubbing the limp girl. he pushes himself up, straining to grab a tissue off her nightstand to clean with, the act of pulling out of her releasing a constant pressure, the girl whimpering. he soaks up the mess of cum dripping down her legs, drinking in the sight, then rises to throw the tissues away. she’s able to muster the energy to push herself up and stumble behind him, walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower, steadying her shaky legs by holding onto the wall. she turns to see the man, naked in all his glory, approach her, placing his hands on her hips and leaning in to kiss her deeply. she seeps into his touch, hand coming to graze his lower stomach, exhaling slowly. he lets a peace wash over the two before speaking.
“so, uh, i’ll take this as your two weeks notice, then?” he teases, hand falling to her low back. she tilts her head to the side.
“what? you mean i don’t get a promotion after that?” she asks, smiling, trying to feign disappointment, “fuck.”
he grins, adoringly gazing down at the young woman, bathing in the light of her smile.
he knew it was never supposed to go so far. it was never supposed to end up in this position, with her leaning in for another kiss, him greedily accepting. she was his completely now, the man making a vow to never let anything or anyone hurt her, cherishing the feeling of her warmth under his fingertips.
it was never supposed to go so far, but it did. and he was so fucking glad it did.
—
eeeek i hope you liked it!! i genuinely enjoyed writing this story so much. an epilogue to wrap up some loose ends is possible in the future- in the meantime i'll be posting some steamy carmy headcannons.
please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! thank you SO MUCH to everyone for the continued support on this series <3
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto imagine#the bear imagine
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Clingy
( Sub Chris Sturniolo x Female reader )
( Warning : Smut, time skips, kinda new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, i might stop putting warnings i never know what to do 😭 )
Chris : Orange
Y/N : Pink
Matt : Blue
Nick : Purple
( Word count : 1k )
——————————————————
Chris had been super clingy to his brothers and me.
Chris had been incredibly annoying to Nick and Matt, often following them about like a shadow, talking to them, holding hands, resting his head on their shoulders, and doing pretty much anything to be close to them.
He had also been extremely fussy toward me, constantly toying with my fingers, caressing the corner of my lips, whispering to me, and giving me tight hugs as though I would soon pass away.
I wasn't bothered by it at all, but I was curious as to why he suddenly become such a submissive person.
-
On a Thursday night at 9:30 p.m., the triplets were supposed to be home by now because they were filming, but they stayed at home instead because Chris insisted on filming with me, claiming he wouldn't be able to handle even a minute of being without me.
Nick, Matt, and I looked at Chris strangely, wondering why he was so clingy in front of his brothers.
He was known to get clingy, but his brothers had never seen him act this clingy , especially in front of him.
"What the fuck is your problem, you can hang out with Y/N after we film."
"Chris, stop acting like a baby. Why are you acting this way?"
"Okay guys, get off his dick."
I whispered in Chris’ ear to go film and then we can have a talk about what’s going on.
Chris nodded and walked behind his older brothers to go film a youtube video for his loyal fan base.
-
After recording for more than an hour, Chris and his siblings had finally arrived home at 11:17 p.m.
"Chris I'm going to go edit, and Y/N Chris is acting like a jerk. He spoke about you almost every time he opened his mouth, and when he didn’t it was always criticism.”
“Come on, baby, let's go to the room to talk”
"All right."
With my hand clasped around his, Chris muttered something under his breath as we made our way to his room.
"Chris, what's wrong? Why are you acting so needy?" I didn't want to come off as mean to Chris so i spoke very softly.
Chris simply shrugged his shoulders and pulled at the bed sheets, sighing with humiliation.
“I don’t know if just feel like i wanna be told what to do and be told to cum a-and i don’t know.”
it all started to make sense why he was acting like this, he just wanted to get fucked like a submissive bitch.
I looked at Chris because usually Chris has been dom, i didn’t mind being sub if anything i would love to tell Chris when to cum or what to do more often.
-
There were black Calvin Klein boxers, white shirt, and grey sweatpants strewn all over the place.
My nose struck Chris's pelvis and I gagged as my mouth was on his dick, moving up and down to make sure I got everything in my mouth.
"MM fuck mummy, it feels so good, please let me cum in your mouth, it feels so good."
"Go ahead, angel."
He then completed that. I felt his thick, white ropes slide down my throat, and I opened my mouth to tell him I had swallowed everything.
"Im sorry for being annoying to you; thank you for helping me ma.”
"You haven't been annoying, but I'm not finished. You said that you want commands, so I will give you that. I’m gonna ride you okay?"
“Okay”
Before long, all of my clothes were on the ground, and I was riding Chris while positioned on top of him and gripping the head of the bed with my hands.
"Open"
Chris gave me a strange look but followed my instructions. I inserted two fingers and told him to suck, and he did.
With a loud plop, I removed my fingers from his lips and placed them on my clit, applying just enough pressure to push me over the brink.
"I can feel you twitching, fuck Chris. Are you going to cum with me, dirty slut? Irritating me and your brothers with your neediness, all for the sake of getting fucked like the filthy whore you are? You're going to come soon, but you won't come until I tell you to, okay?"
"Yes ma, i won’t cum until you tell me to i promise.”
Chris was sobbing a little bit because he had already came earlier and was now in severe need to cum again as soon as possible.
With my fluids streaming out of me onto Chris's tummy, I finished over him with my fingers moving more quickly over my clit.
"You can cum now pretty boy, Cum Chris."
I overstimulated myself by bouncing on him in order for him to finish.
As we experienced our climax, Chris let out an incredibly loud groan, "Ughh fuck MUMMY FEE- FEels sOO GOOD NGHH F-F-FUCK."
I asked him whether it was too much after giving him a full face-kiss.
“ i’m okay but seriously i am sorry for being annoying”
“ It’s okay baby do you wanna take a shower or just lay?”
“I’m tired can we just lay for a bit i don’t wanna move”
I nodded and laid there with him still in me to drift off to a deep slumber
-
After a long night, Chris and I showered and dressed before heading downstairs.
I said, "Good morning, guys" speaking for Chris and myself as he was still drowsy.
"Mummy, you guys had a great time last night?"
"What the fuck matt, unless you want to be kicked in the balls, don't call me mummy?"
"Don't fucking call her that Matt, or I'll kill you."
"I apologise Jesus, but did you enjoy calling Y/N mommy last night, Chris? You probably woke up everyone in the neighbourhood.”
"Fuck off"
I heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.
"Good morning, guys. Last night, I had the strangest dream. I dreamed that Chris was a little kid calling out for his mummy because he was hurt."
Everyone laughed except for Nick.
"Guys, what really is so funny?"
"Nothing, be at peace."
Chris and I watch iclary together on the couch to begin our day.
#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#romance#chris sturniolo x you#romantic
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[BAD DECISION #10] Blonde
warnings: b is in her bleach era. love that for her!! jaykay is in the chapter for like 1.5 seconds and still manages to be the best thing about it. also if u think wow holly sometimes your chapters end very similarly, uhhh yes. ur right. mainly because my brain is smooth but also because jungkook is a creature of habit! it’s within his character traits! not because im stupid! even if i am!
soundtrack: space - audrey nuna; blonde - maisie peters
wc: 3.5k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist
You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when Seokjin leaves you on read. It happens as soon as he escapes the city, just like it always does.
It's always the same; he'll come back to town for a few days - to visit friends, his family, or maybe for a haircut with the only barber he trusts - then leaves just as quickly as he comes.
The predictability of it all would be funny, you think, but your knees are getting worn out from how many times you fall for it; his charm, his deception, his pretty lips that soothe the burn of his selfish choices.
He'll be radio silent for a while, and then suddenly, as if he's finally changed the batteries in his walkie-talkie, he won't be. It'll most likely be when he's on his way back to town in a few months time.
The saddest part is that you know you'll want to see him when he does. Will have the burning desire to show him just how well you've been; how well you've coped without him.
Most of all? You'll want him to know just how much you don't need him.
Inevitably, he'll end up in your bed, and you'll end up all in your head - again - overthinking and underestimating just how easy it is for him to drop you. Forgetting just how badly he fucked you up, only for him to remind you in the most callous of ways.
When Danbi comes home on Thursday night - three days since Seokjin's last message - she knows exactly what's happened. You've got a special kind of pout reserved for Seokjin-related upsets. It's always a little soft yet incredibly hard to break.
"You gotta stop letting him in," she says over a glass of red. She hates the taste, but loves the soft buzz in the pit of her stomach. Though she's much better suited to Moscato, Danbi will never turn her nose up at free wine.
If she knew why you were drinking it, she might consider rejecting it.
Seokjin's favourite. You'd bought it on the way home from work. Just couldn't help yourself.
Had figured that at least when you hugged yourself to sleep that evening, your lips would taste like his used to do, on the nights when he'd tell you that you're the most delightful thing he's ever laid his eyes upon. Would be all giggly. Wine drunk. Happy. In love.
But it's been a while since he did that. Feels like a lifetime ago, now.
You shrug as you let the ruby red liquid swirl in your glass. Fighting against your feelings feels like swimming against the tide.
Always struggling to breathe. Never winning. Failing. Falling.
"I don't know how to, Dan."
"But you do," she insists.
And she's right. Of course you do.
His number has never been blocked, but a simple restriction of access to you would solve so many of your problems.
Thing is, you kind of like him still being your problem. At least that way, on a technicality, he's still yours. Kind of.
Every time he comes back to the city, it's still your bed that he ends up in.
Never for the night. Just for an hour or two - but for long enough for you to convince yourself that he can't stay away.
The lies you let your mind whisper are insidious. You're irresistible. He's still just as affected by you as you are by him. He can't possibly leave you.
And yet he does, each and every time.
He doesn't ever let you go. Not fully. Whenever you think you're getting over it, he shows up just to get you under him; his thumb, his spell, his body.
You're halfway through the bottle of wine when Danbi tells you once more that you need to get Seokjin out of your hair.
You've reached the end of it by the time you're grabbing your purse and heading for the closest Olive Young.
It's just down the street, by the crossroads that lead into town, and the staff there have seen you in worse states. A little tipsy has nothing on the mascara-stained eyes they used to be greeted with during the worst days of the breakup.
"Sure about this?" Danbi asks just to check before you take the boxes in your hands to the counter.
"Absolutely not - but he always hated me blonde," you grin a little sardonically. The happiness that comes with this change will be temporary, but you have to remind yourself that so was he. "At least even if I can't resist him, he'll resist me."
Peroxide and perhaps a little fried, your blonde hair had caught his attention in the early days - but you had dyed your hair dark in a bid to keep it.
He'd said some bullshit in a conversation amongst friends about his preferences, and how he favoured the 'natural look'. You weren't together at the time, not officially - but everyone there was a friend of his. They all knew you'd be going home with him. It only took two boxes of dye to get him asking to be exclusive. A week later he was introducing you to his friends as his girlfriend.
Funny what a little bit of conformity can do for a man who loves playing by the rules.
You assume his desire to tick the boxes and do what is expected of him is also why he was such a bellend when it came to the glitter you liked to dust yourself in.
Nobody's perfect though, so he was willing to overlook it. Was just one of the flaws he perceived in you. When you love someone, you accept them.
He ultimately never grew to love it, but for a while, you thought he might.
Bleach boxes in one hand, another bottle of wine in the other, you waste no time and head straight for the bathroom. Danbi follows you right in. She's always there to lend a hand or at least provide a Spotify playlist to get you through your woes.
Folding the powder into the developing lotion by the sink, you know your bleach-induced bathroom antics could get you a spot in a Brad Mondo video.
All a little haphazard, you're without a mixing bowl and brush, so are having to use an old takeout container and a plastic spoon, instead.
It's not quite how the instructions suggest you should mix it all up, but no good ever comes from following the rules.
You'd tried for Seokjin, and look where that got you.
Unlike him, trusty Tupperware has never done you dirty before. No reason why it should now.
Danbi sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, a small bottle of bubbles in her hand. The bubbles had been a Christmas party favour from the office job she'd quit four months ago. Rediscovered when she'd been cleaning her room earlier that day, Danbi had taken to blowing pretty little bubble flurries your way all afternoon.
Your reflection is captured in the peacock sheen of the bubbles while you study your rapidly developing hair in the mirror.
You haven't bothered to change out of your shirt. It's not yours. One of Seokjin's. It's navy, and you hope the bleach ruins it.
"I think I've fucked up," you say all rather calmy, talking about your hair and not the shirt. It's not the end of the world if you have. Just hair, you always think.
Danbi shrugs. Has clearly spent too much time in your company, because she echoes exactly what you're thinking: "Just hair, babe. It'll grow."
That's the joy of your friendship; you both encourage each other with the same dumb remarks whenever you feel like you've reached the point of no return.
After all, if you can't go back?
Go forward.
"Plus," she adds, blowing more bubbles instead of taking a breath. "You can just chalk it up to being your hot mess era."
"Been in that for months already," you smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. You prod a little at your roots, and know that you definitely should have waited a little longer to work the bleach up to them. Bollocks.
You've done this enough times to know you'll end up with a gold band haloing around the top of your hair thanks to how easily your roots always lift. Nightmare.
"Exactly, so you may as well look the part," Danbi encourages. Worst influence going, she is. Also the best at times, too. You find comfort in the fact she won't always say what you want to hear, but what you need to hear instead.
The conversation dissolves into empty chatter, gossip about Danbi's dog walking clients, mentions of Taehyung and how he's still trying to talk her into a mates-rates discount despite the fact they aren't actually 'mates'. She asked you about your Bartender That Smiles, and you say he's all good - before you have to insist there's nothing going on there.
"He's got issues with his ex," you explain.
She rolls her eyes. "Don't they all? Boys and their first loves, I swear to God."
"Not sure she was his first," you defend, though you're not sure why. The thought lingers as you rummage around for an old tube of toner that you know you have hiding in the bathroom cabinet somewhere. It's been a while since your hair was pale enough to take toner, so it's been pushed right to the back.
Danbi is shooed from her perch on the toilet seat and into the living room as you let the shower run to heat it a little.
The first crash of water against your skin is lukewarm. Tepid. Unappealing, but necessary.
You hate anything other than boiling-you-alive degrees Celsius, but know you need to be kind to your hair after the torture you've put it through. The water runs cloudy until the bleach is rinsed out, and then it runs purple thanks to your silver shampoo. It pools around your feet and seeps into the drain. Wishful thinking has you hoping memories of Seokjin will do just the same.
It's just to preemptively tone it, but you can't help but worry about the pigment taking too strongly on your roots.
The ash toner you found in the cupboard is in a box by the sink. You plan on putting that over the top of whatever mess your hair is anyway, but it doesn't hurt to get a head start on the process.
The water glistens a deep violet, briefly coating your skin - and for some reason, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and how you'd really like to be downing a Purple Starfucker (or five) with him right now. He really is the perfect distraction.
Still, you have a task at hand. You rinse your hair; ring it out. Sigh as you frown at the mess that greets you in the mirror - lilac roots, a yellow band haloing just like your thought it would, and silver ends. Brilliant.
It's as you're sitting with Danbi in the living room a little while later - body wrapped in a towel that isn't half as fluffy as Jeongguk's favourite, ashy toner smothering your peroxide blonde hair - that you notice your phone flash on the coffee table.
Danbi clocks it first, and stifles a laugh as she reads the screen. "Isn't that the guy from the club?"
You assume she means Jeongguk, and are a little perplexed to see it's Jimin's name on your screen instead.
"Yeah... Jimin. Smooth talker, shit shagger."
"A glowing review."
"Hey, I still let him think he was good," you say as you reach for your phone to read his message out loud to Danbi. "You guys out tomorrow night?"
Sipping on her wine, Danbi raises a brow. Shakes her head in confusion. "He hoping for round two?"
"Fuck knows."
It's just gone midnight, so you consider maybe he's thinking about his desire for a hook-up, and is hoping for a safe bet in the form of you.
And so you don't reply. If he double texts, you'll just lie and say you've fallen asleep.
The scent of your toner is beginning to give you a headache, so you go to rinse it and bid farewell to your final day as a brunette.
Sleep evades you. Doesn't want to let go of who you were, apparently. Wine makes you sleepy, and yet you're wired as if you've just had a triple shot americano.
But then it's three in the morning, and all you can seem to smell is the deep conditioner you bathed your hair in that evening.
Somehow, when you look to the empty space beside you - delicately ruffled, a dent prevailing in the pillow - you convince yourself that you can smell fig leaves and coconut. The notes of his favourite aftershave linger like the ache in your chest. It's hollow, and you can't work out why it hurts quite as much as it does.
If there's nothing there, how can it be so painful?
You sniff back tears that fail to truly form and pull your phone from beneath your pillow. It's hard to move your fingers when they're tangled up in puppet strings that Seokjin is refusing to let go of, but eventually you manage to tap through some Instagram stories in a bid to distract yourself from him.
Inspirational quotes don't do much for you, nor do the engagement pictures of people you haven't given a second thought since graduation. There's an abundance of them. Smiling faces. Diamonds, or maybe just cubic zirconia. Fresh sets of nails, hands that are pink and warm from the heat of whoever's been holding them.
It's a curious thought; what people who haven't spoken to you in years must think of you now.
You were the one who was going to succeed. Going far in life, made for a boardroom, would look incredible in a pantsuit - and yet you're working in a cafe, first-class degree of no more worth than the tissue paper you flush down the toilet.
See, you switched out life goals for glitter. You wear it like armour; protect yourself from the world around you. Who cares about seriousness and success when you're a constant disco? Not you. Could never be you.
Or at least, you hope that's what people think. Hope that no one realises you're covering yourself in artificial shine; like a canvas in acrylic because you were too impatient to watch the oil paint dry.
One day you'll glow. Glow for real.
For a while, you thought you had been with Seokjin.
All you see when you look in the mirror these days is tarnished silver; copper alloy pretending to be much more than what it really is. Your skin will turn green eventually.
There is, however, one person you've managed to fool.
When his story pops up - a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus - you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel.
It's a simple message - hey - and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later.
JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure?
You decided that 'I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead' probably won't be Jeongguk's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie.
You: Just wondering how the kids are <3
Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jeongguk. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days.
JustJK: Missing their mother.
JustJK: Perry the Pigeon almost fell earlier.
JustJK: Roger the Robin looks like he has a broken wing.
JustJK: Must be one of yours. Inherited his mother's wonkiness <3
With each message that comes through, your smile grows wider in the midnight darkness of your bedroom.
You: Careful or I'll file for joint custody.
You: Get poor Roger away from his father's cruel remarks </3
There's an ease to how you joke together, both aware of how unserious you are. There's no second-guessing, no worrying about saying the wrong thing. If you do, you'll say sorry and move on. No harm, no foul.
JustJK: Your appeal won't hold up in court, Byeol.
JustJK: You've neglected them ever since you spawned them.
JustJK: Haven't even paid them a visit!!!
Laughter stifles in your throat as your body curls up into a more comfortable position. The audacity of this boy, you think, ignoring the way he manages to get you entirely focused on something that isn't your own despair.
You: You've got full custody!!!
JustJK: And you're still allowed to come for supervised visits!!!!!
JustJK: smh and to think you call yourself their mother.
JustJK: I'm their mother now.
You pout at your screen, and whine a small little 'nooo'.
You: They need me :(
JustJK: Come and see them, then. They miss their mother.
You: Tomorrow?
He reads the messages instantly, but takes a little longer than usual to reply. It worries you slightly. Makes you more aware of your surroundings. The scent of Seokjin's aftershave begins to permeate the air once more.
Until, all rather suddenly, it doesn't anymore.
JustJK: I'm not working tomorrow night, but Jimin's insisting on going to the paint party - you coming?
You: Will Perry the Pigeon be there?
JustJK: If he falls before I leave for the club, then yes.
It's not a bad proposition. One that quite intrigues you. One that has you agreeing, and him telling you to fuck off and go to sleep. He's got work to do, he says.
It's actually quite quiet at the club - Yeonjun just caught him looking at his phone with a dumb smile a few too many times for Jeongguk's liking. Doesn't wanna get caught out again.
Especially doesn't want him catching onto the fact that there's a reason Jeongguk's eyes light up like Disco Balls when he looks at his phone.
Yeonjun doesn't really have friends who are girls, Jeongguk reasons with himself. Won't understand that he's perfectly capable of having a little flirt without it meaning anything more than that - after all, isn't that just what banter is? Friendly flirting? He does it with the boys all the time. Doesn't mean fuck all. Just fun.
Jeongguk's a couple of years older than his cerulean-haired coworker, and has learnt the hard way that you really shouldn't escalate friends above the level of purely platonic. One day Yeonjun will realise this.
For now, though, Yeonjun'll shag anyone who looks at him in the right direction. Has probably already ruined a few good friendships. Doesn't even realise he's done it.
Jeongguk trusts himself not to make the same mistakes he's made in the past with you. Thinks that he's pretty happy with how things are. Has missed the dynamics of friendships with girls. Is looking forward to Monday movie night with you and Danbi again.
And yet when he gets home to find Perry the paper pigeon on his bed, he can't help but smile.
You wake up to a picture of the fallen bird in your DMs - and even though you'll whine and complain about it when you see him that evening, all you can do is smile, too.
JustJK: Looks like we're having a wholesome family trip to Dionysus tonight.
You: Mummy and Daddy reunited at last <33 Perry will be so happy.
JustJK: It's okay, you don't have to lie.
JustJK: I know you're talking about yourself, not Perry.
Jeongguk doesn't send the message where he tells you not to call him Daddy. Knows you'll read into it; tease him about it. It's not like he's got a thing for it, or anything, he just... maybe wouldn't be opposed to it, and so he'd rather not be called it when he's having casual conversations with you. Wouldn't wanna get flustered.
Part of you already knows this. Is precisely why you'd said it. It's not really your style, not the kind of thing that gets you going.
But it is also exactly why you choose to end your next message with, 'See you tonight, Daddy x'.
You're laughing as you send it.
And as he receives it, Jeongguk groans. Buries his head into his pillow. Crumples Perry a little in the process. Whines.
"Don't fuck this up, Jeongguk."
AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT
#by holly#jk#jeongguk fanfic#jungkook fanfic#Jungkook Fanfiction#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook ff#jeongguk fic#bartender!jungkook#BD#bad decisions#bangtan#bts fanfic#dappleddaisies
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im too grumpy too talk rn? stop, youre so fucking cute. please be grumpy and pout and frown aggressively ill take it
😭 ok yeah this cheered me up i'll be honest. here's some catboy wip for you
“Whoa,” Max says. He takes a sip of his Red Bull and asks, “What’s going on over there?”
Reporters, pundits, photographers, and, from the looks of it, multiple film crews—Sky, F1TV, and even Netflix—are all crowded around the Ferrari hospitality.
He and Checo are walking back from the fan zone. An hour ago, it hadn’t been anything like this.
Checo hums and puts his hands in his pockets, stopping next to Max. Casually, he says, “Everyone must have found out about Charles.”
Max blinks. Swallows. Freezes. “Found out what about Charles?”
Checo turns and looks at him like grown a second head. “He texted in the WhatsApp this morning. Did you not see?”
Shaking his head, Max asks, “What’s happened to Charles? Did he, like—retire? Move teams?” Max can’t think of any other reason why there would be this much activity at Ferrari, on Thursday morning. He’s reminded of when Seb left Ferrari three years ago; when Daniel left Red Bull five years ago.
Absurdly, Checo laughs. “No, nothing like that.” He purses his lips, like he wants to say something, but is choosing not to. “Maybe you should go in and see.”
Max frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, Red Bull still in hand. “See what?”
Smiling, Checo taps Max on his arm and says, “I think you will like it. Come on, they will probably let us through.”
Max huffs a little, but he is curious. Checo is acting rather ominously. It must be something good, so he entertains the idea.
To Max’s surprise, everyone does let the two of them through, the photographers and reporters backing up like the red sea parting. As they wait for a path to clear up, Max sips from his Red Bull again. And at last, at the other end of the ocean, past bodies and bodies, is Charles, sitting just outside the Ferrari motorhome, a million phones on the table before him.
At first glance, he looks completely normal. Still wearing a Ferrari cap. Ferrari polo as well. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.
It isn’t until Charles meets Max’s eyes that Max finally notices what’s different.
The world seems to stop, for a moment.
“Oh,” Max says, and he doesn’t realize that he’s dropped his Red Bull until he feels the liquid soak into his sneakers and socks.
Faintly, Max recognizes that all the cameras are now pointed at him.
Still, he cannot exactly take his eyes off what’s poking out from Charles’ lower back and curling around his bicep: a fluffy light brown tail. A cat’s tail.
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OKAY I THINK TUMBLR MIGHTVE EATEN UO MY ASK SO IM SENDING IT JUST CASE BUT THIS IS LITERALLY STEVE CODED. the way he just kept going and the i got more to teach at the end… LIKE BE SERIOUSSSSSSSSDSS
- s
no reallllllll
just the casual flirting oh my fucking GOD bffr.
like ok picture this with me alright please?
you meet steve in like. peak king days. like s1 ok. and you guys do not like each other right like. not enemies or anything like that but you guys are just like. indifferent to one another ok. and you guys get paired up for something. a school project or something stupid. and the whole time, there’s just this. tension. like palpable tension. and it’s like this like. flirting and teasing and sneaking little glances and little lingering touches like every interaction is just. heated. and eventually you to FINALLY fuck. in his house, on like a random thursday night after a party. and it’s sooo good. like not GREAT, but it’s good . like good good. like. ‘i wanna do this again’ good. and then you guys sort of become fuck buddies for a minute. and it’s good . like it’s just fun . it’s casual and he gives you attention and he always calls you pretty after and hot during<3 and it’s just so flirty and tense and it’s like hnnnngh it’s just fun:)
but then he starts dating nancy yk. so he pulls away a bit. you’re still friends, he comes to you from time to time for advice. and it hurts. bc you were just starting to kind of develop feelings for him (not that you’d ever tell him) but it hurts that he would just . pass you up so easy for someone else:/ someone who’s like. perfect. and you kind of get subconsciously pissed at him. pull away a bit.
and then he and nancy break up. and the first house he goes to is yours. he’s fucking devastated. like actually about to cry sitting at the foot of your bed, head in his hands. and you feel bad for him but it’s also like. he’s using you, it feels like he’s dragging you along yk. but you really care about him at this point so you’re always there. you’re always there for him. for those next few weeks when he’s losing his friends after he lost nancy, and he just feels so helplessly alone. you’re there. you guys take turns sleeping over at each other’s places and you guys share the bed and you always wake up with him holding you:( and a couple times, a couple vulnerable nights, he kisses you, he grabs you and kisses you so soft and desperate and needy. but you always stop him. bc you know he’s just looking for someone to fill that void in him. that void that nancy left. he doesn’t actually want you. he just wants to sleep with you so he doesnt have to feel so shitty. so you stop him.
and eventually you realize. he's really not gonna get over nancy. not anytime soon. not without another bump on the head. so you find someone else. a nice guy. he's not steve. but yk, hes nice:) and he treats you well and he cares about you and it feels nice. nice to have someone care just as much for you as you do for him, no strings or ex's attached. and steves happy for you, of course he is. he has to be. he obviously cant tell you hes falling in love with you. not now, not after all this time. not after all the bullshit with nancy and you always being there for him. youre happy. and hes happy youre happy.
so he starts sleeping around. comparing all of them to you. everyone thinks hes trying to get over nance, but little do they know hes been pining after you for months. driving you to and from work, letting you come over when youre boyfriends being a dick, buying you birthday and christmas gifts hoping you'll catch the hint but you never do. you could never believe steve harrington would actually have feelings for you, its so out of the question.
so youre boyfriends being especially shitty one night, and you run to steve, like you normally do, but this time, instead of his normal "he doesnt deserve you" or "you could have anyone, anyone you wanted. you could do so much better"… he kisses you. steve kisses you again. after so long. and you cant lie, it feels good. so so so good again. and he tells you he loves you. that hes loved you for months. that hes not asking you to break up with your boyfriend, but he just had to tell you, he couldnt keep it in any longer. that hed still do anything for you. that hes gonna be here no matter what. he just. loves you . alot. and its painful sometimes. but if that means having you in his life, then thats what hell do.
and then you leave. you leave him there. in his big house. alone again. and he thinks that’s it. that’s he’s fucked everything up. that he’s never gonna see you again.
but then you’re back the next night. you look scared. scared when he opened the door… and then you tell him you broke up with him. your boyfriend.
and then he kisses you. and kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and drags you to bed:)
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