#anyway enjoy if u like it don't feel pressured to watch

[prozac-shaped-urn]

I'm emo lately :)))

Read this as the Palmetto holding Deborah captive inside the 'medicine' of her Little Debbies and QVC line, not stand-up as a whole. I couldn't quite fit in the specifics. As for Ava, her 'medicine' is her insatiable desire to prove herself, especially when no one is listening. By coming together, Ava and Deb can stop using their respective 'medicines' and rely on each other for support and praise... and maybe realize their strengths aren't so different after all.

[osachiyo]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 by anonymous user ꒱. . . hello ! I really like your works, could I please request an insecure!reader with chuuya? and him fucking some sense into her? don't feel pressured to do this btw and feel free to ignore :D

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 note ꒱. . . here u go, nonnie ! I really liked this idea and sorry for taking so long on this request 😭 anyway, hope you enjoy ~~

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 c/w ꒱. . . (18+) n/sfw content, mentions of insecurities, body worshipper chuuya, praise, lowercase intended, hints of dumbfication, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, cunnilingus, chuuya eats it from the back !! 🗣️🗣️& more + not proofread

summary. . . you've been feeling insecure about your body and started to wonder if you were really good enough for someone like chuuya? but no worries, your lover doesn't mind reminding you how much he loves your body and more importantly, you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the fancy full-body mirror in front of you; god, you looked horrendous. you didn't know how chuuya, one of, if not the most beautiful man you've ever met, love someone like.. you.

what you also didn't know, though, was that your beloved chuuya had been standing in the doorway the entire time, slender figure leaning against the doorframe as a dull pain throbbed in his heart while he watched, heard you pick apart your body like it was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. he watched as you ran your fingers up and down the parts you hated the most, a frown tugging at your lips as you muttered something about "not being pretty enough". he didn't understand why you'd say such things about your body− all of those beautiful parts of yours that he cherished wholeheartedly.

you whipped your head around hearing the sound of the once slightly ajar bedroom door shut, your boyfriend entering the room. "hey doll, what're you up to?" chuuya's voice was heavy, laced with something you couldn't exactly put a finger on.

"hey, chuu," you smiled, though the action didn't meet your eyes. and chuuya could tell.

his eyes narrowed, gloved hands found their way around your waist, tugging you closer to him− your back flush against his chest. when did he walk all the way across the room?

"y'know, I heard everything right?" he muttered into your neck, strong arms tightening around your figure as you gulped nervously. "chuuya I−" "you're fuckin' beautiful. so don't say hurtful shit about yourself 'cause it for sure ain't true," he cut you off, now pressing soft kisses on the back of your neck to your shoulders, gloved hands reaching up your shirt to knead and gently caress your soft skin.

a whimper caught in your throat as chuuya's hands found your breasts− pushing your bra up to grope them under your shirt. "i love all parts of your body. fuck, you're so pretty. i'll fuckin' prove it to you if i have to."

"you see that, baby? see the way this pussy sucks my fingers in?" chuuya mused, now bare fingers plunging in and out of your sopping cunt as he had you spread in front of the giant mirror. "mm-! fuck, chuu−!" you were cut off by your own moans, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, making the little strands of your baby hair stick to your skin. "shh, baby. just focus on the way i finger fuck this pretty cunt, yeah?" your lover's voice was muffled by the soft kisses he was busy pressing all over your nape and shoulders, moving your hair out of the way to make it easier.

you could see everything in the mirror, from the way chuuya's slim fingers disappeared inside of your pussy to how much of a mess you've already become− glossy lips parted as loud moans and whines escape from your throat, the way your tits bounce and jiggle with each thrust of his digits. and hell, was it embarrassing. you jolted up when the tips of his appendages rubbed against that one spongey spot inside of your gooey walls− your jaw slacking as your eyes shut. only to receive a gentle but firm slap on your face from chuuya, "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna watch how I please this beautiful body of yours," he growled lowly in your ear, fingers speeding up their pace as you twitch and whine in response. your vision was blurry− but you could still make out the way your face contorts to one of pure bliss in your reflection.

"yeaah− cum on these fingers, sweetheart," the ginger groaned as you soaked his fingers− your slick running down his wrist and staining the bed sheets underneath, soft curses and his name spewing out of your mouth as his fingers slowed down, aiding you to ride out your orgasm.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled them out of your still sensitive cunt− only to pop them in his mouth as he moaned from the taste of your juices melting on his tongue. "fuck, doll− I gotta taste you, need'a make you cum on my tongue−" he pushed you on your hands and knees before even finishing his sentence− a large hand pressing your back to a perfect arch, face down ass up.

"such a nice fuckin' ass," he groaned, fingers digging into the soft fat and spreading them as you whimper, pitifully clawing at the bed sheets. he playfully bit one of your globes, earning a whine in return which made him chuckle. chuuya's greedy hands ran down from your ass to your thighs, only to go back up to knead at your ass, "and these soft thighs− god, I could kiss 'em for hours."

and as if to prove himself, he started littering kisses all over your inner thighs, hands still kneading your ass before giving it a firm spank, making you jump. "hah, and of course−" he smirked before making his way to your pussy, "this pretty fuckin' pussy− prettiest one I've ever seen," he growled before diving in between your legs− hungry lips wrapping around your clit as you gasp out from the feeling.

"fu−ck! chuuya−!" you babbled, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm from earlier, his nose bumping against your slit as he runs his tongue in a zigzag motion across your clit. his fingers were spreading your ass apart for him, to get easy access to your sweet pussy that he wanted to devour so bad.

shamelessly nasty slurping noises came from between your parted thighs. your slick was already dripping down chuuya's chin as you tried your best to keep your gaze on the mirror, watching yourself getting eaten out from the back. fuck, your hair was a mess− your bare figure covered in bites and bruises that your boyfriend gave you, claiming it was his way of showing you were his. your makeup had been completely ruined; mascara running down your cheek in inky streaks, lipstick smudged− you looked utterly debauched, chuuya's favorite look on you.

a gurgled moan came out of your mouth when two fingers pushed inside of your sloppy pussy, the mafia executive's tongue now writing his name on your clit. a deep groan rumbled in his chest when you tried to run away from the feeling of his tongue and fingers on you− pulling you back before harshly cracking a palm down on your left globe, before curling his fingers further into you. tears were falling freely from your eyes at this point, mouth dropped to an 'o' as you chanted his name like a prayer− "chuu− please, fuck! s'too much−!" you cried out, if it weren't for chuuya's death grip on you, you'd already have fallen face first into the matress.

"you can− fuuck− take it, sweet girl," chuuya moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of the sound making your toes curl and apparently that was the last straw for you− "fuckfuck! 'm cummin'− cummingg−!!" your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted all over chuuya's face, his own hips rutting into the mattress as his eyes widen− he wasn't expecting you to do that.

chuuya gave your messy cunt a few more licks before kissing your clit, then pulling away. you looked back to see his face completely drenched− him licking his lips as he gave you a lopsided grin. "holy shit, baby. that was..." he muttered, still dazed as he ran his clean hand through his sweaty orange locks. you were still panting, chest heaving as you tried came down from the euphoric high before looking away in embarrassment, fingers fiddling with the sheets− then suddenly, you got slammed back against the bed. face down, ass up, again.

you heard a metal clink− likely his belt. the sound of expensive leather hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, he must've tossed the belt somewhere. it wasn't long before your thoughts got quickly cut off, chuuya's heavy tip slapping against your clit a few times as you whined, begging him to give you a rest but no− he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure he fucked all those negative thoughts out of your mind− wasn't gonna stop 'till all thoughts but his left that pretty little head of yours. you just had to sit still and take it, like the good girl you were.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

------------------------------------------ 

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[ethanlandryswhore]

Grumps.

Pairing: Nongf!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Genre/Warnings: Hurt!Sad!Crying!Ethan bc i can't get ENOUGHHH, a bit of angst I think, Cursing, Ethan beingi grumpy and sad, Cuddling, LOTS of kissing.

Summary: lol u should read it.

A/N: Helllllooo everyone! Sorry for not posting in like a week. I've been weirdly sad and lonely lately so I've been kinda lacking in my writing lately. Anyways, love you all soo much and enjoy!

You jump as the door to your dorm opens. You look up from your laid position on the couch, as Ethan walks in. m You can almost instantly tell his mood is down due to his tense look. The door slams shut as he walks in, setting his Econ textbooks and laptop on the small kitchen counter.

“Eth?" You question gently, now sitting up. You watch as he ignores you and starts looking though some draws full of junk. "Baby, what’s the matter?”

When he doesn’t answer you can only frown, now getting up fully. After searching one drawer he moves onto the next. You catch him glimpse at you slightly before saying nothing.  

“Ethan-” You scramble off the couch, jogging after him. “What happened?” You ask him softly, turning him to face you.  

“It’s nothing.” He mumbles, pulling his arm from your grasp and moving to the third cabinet. 

“Baby, talk to me...” You follow, not keen on leaving him alone.  

“It’s nothing, Y/n. Forget it.” Ethan sighs. You watch him silently, mulling over your options. 

"What are you looking for..?" You ask blinking up at him. He doesn't even answer, let alone look your way. You let out a small puff of air.

“Ethan…” You mumble, hugging him, chest pressing to his back. Your hand rubs against his stomach, head leaning against his shoulder. You can feel his harsh movements of searching slow down as you hug him. "What happened?" You say softer, kissing his back.

“It’s fine.” He replies, his voice is barely audible. "I don't want to talk about it."

“Okay." You respond finally, deciding to let it be. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

The door opens, and your boyfriend peeks in slowly. He’s silent, just watching you for a moment before entering the bedroom. Eventually, Ethan pushes his way into your arms, waking you from your half asleep state. 

“Hi, Eth.” You mumble as he sprawls on top of you.  

He hums gently, burying his face into your neck. You smile at his warmth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.  

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, hand rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades.  

“No, not really…” He sighs, letting himself relax.  

“Alright, baby. but you know you can talk to me, right?” You whisper gently, placing soft kissing on his head.

“I know.” Ethan mumbles, closing his eyes as he relaxes. 

You sit in silence, rubbing your boyfriend’s back as you think how to get him to open up to you. Ethan was often sensitive and could get emotional quickly if he was pushed too far and the last thing you wanted was to pressure him into telling you.

Ethan seemed much calmer than he was when he first came home, his eyes are closed as his head rests upon your chest. His breathing is so slow, you almost think he’s asleep. Silently you turnover, Ethan mumbling gently before rolling off of you and cuddling beside you instead. 

“Are you still upset?” You ask softly.  

Ethan sits in silence for a moment before responding; “yeah…” he murmurs.

“Sit up, baby.” you reply gently, moving to sit up.  

Ethan opens his eyes, blinking at you before slowly sitting up; back resting against your dorm wall. You straddle his thighs, sitting comfortably in his lap.  

“Talk to me.” you mumble, pressing sweet kisses all over his lips as your hands cradle his cheeks.  

“It’s nothing.” Ethan pouts. He doesn’t push you away though as his hands hesitantly grab your hips to move you closer to him. You watch as his ears turn red at your movement above him.  

“You’re upset. Talk to me.” you whisper, kissing his lips once more. Ethan stays silent, red sploches of blush now faintly appearing on his cheeks. He doesn’t move, letting you press soft kisses around his face for a little longer.

You smile gently, tracing your fingers along his lips, Ethan looks up at you, puppy dog eyes now in full effect. You kiss him again, for the 100th time. "Talk to me, baby." You whisper. 

“Fine…” he crumbles, hands squeezing your hips a little. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, hands playing with the back of his shirt.  

“You know that test I told you about? The really important one? For econ?” Ethan says softly. You nod, already seeing where this was going.

“I failed it." He says, quietly, looking away from you. You frown at his vulnerability.

“Oh, Eth…” You sigh, running a hand through his hair at an attempt to soothe him.

“The teacher gave us the test and I knew nothing!" He exasperates, rambling suddenly. "I stayed up for hours last night, studying and going over every little detail and I couldn’t even get past the first question.” he complains, sighing afterwards.

“At least you studied though, baby. At least you tried.” You say, voice soft as you hold him, not entirely sure what to say. Ethan's head falls to your shoulder as he squeezes you tight.  

“But thats not enough, Y/n. The test was horrible- I did horrible. And I turned it in like half finished. I even asked the teacher if I could retake it but he just told me I should have been better prepared and I tried to tell him that I was but he wasn’t having it.” he vents, hands curling into your shirt. His eyes begin to tear up as his sensitivity begins to shine through.

“I'm sorry Eth." You say softly, kissing him again. "I know you studied so hard, love. I'm sorry.” You speak gently.  

Ethan pulls away, slumping back against the head board once more, blinking away tears as he looks at the ceiling. You sigh softly, hands running over his chest to try and soothe him.  

“It was just so embarrassing." He mumbles, tears now pouring down his rosy cheeks. You sit silently, watching him start to get emotional.  

“Ethan." You say gently, touching his face and lifting his eyes to look at yours. His glossy eyes meet yours shame coating them.

“I'm proud of you, okay?" You say tenderly. You wipe his tears with your thumbs before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Why?" He asks, sniffling.

“Because you tried, baby. That's all that matters. You tried your best. And yeah, you didn't do well but you still made an effort. I was here with you when you studied for that test, E. I saw how much you put into it, and I'm sorry you didn't do as well as you wanted to but I'm proud of you, regardless. I'm proud because you tried. That's all that matters, my love." You say, wiping another tear from his eye and smiling gently at him.

Ethan's face crumbles gently as he sniffles again, nodding slowly at you words. “Yeah… I just- I was so ready. I really thought I was gonna do well.” 

“I know baby. I'm sorry. How about I help you study for next time?" You say brushing his curls out from his face, his tears finally drying.

Ethan smiles, widely. "You hate Econ." He laughs shaking his head before looking up at you. You roll your eyes, poking him in the cheek.

"Yeah well," You start, "I'm willing to study it for you."

Ethan smiles, leaning in for a kiss. You gladly pull him into you, feeling his arms wrap around your waist a little tighter. You feel him chuckle against your lips. “Okay.” he smiles.  

You smile back, pulling away from him. "I'll hold you to that." He murmurs, smiling up at you. You grin softly, happy to see him feeling much better.

You ruffle his curls again, "Whatever you say grumps."

[astermath]

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar  @spr3id  @deadandstill  @777iii  @magicboytrash  @dogdevourer @wiipes @sierrahhh  @crayzmarvelfan800 @azxulaa  @astridyoo15   @rexorangecouny  @azxulaa @jointherebellion215 @diorrfairy @chanluuvr @idontexist-anymore @wolfiealina

[devilishchaos]

Heyy idk if u take requests but can u do where the reader have a girl with ruben and they’re celebrating the ucl win on the pitch etc and the their child starts playing with ronny and they assume that the girl and ronny have a tiny crush on eachother yk cute moments etc🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Moments like this | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: pure fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Warnings: use of pet names "babe", "baby"

Word Count: 1 059 words

AN: Hello! idk if I take requests, I received this one and this is my first ever request, I loved it and thank you so much. <3 I unfortunately don't speak portuguese so I used google translate, if you find any mistakes don't hesitate to let me know. On another note - I absolutely love Ronnie and everybody from City! I kind of added a little bit more plot so I hope it is okay and I also made it kinda long, like why am I like this? but hey I loved working on this, so I hope you enjoy it :) x

p.s. while I was working on this Mr. The Sexiest Man Alive posts this picture..like sir, are you trying to unalive me or sth..respectfully tho..Rúben stop playing with me and let me have your kids <3 :p x

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

“Is your missus here tonight?” John asked his best mate Rúben, from across the room, as all Manchester City players were getting dressed in their kits and were preparing to attend the Uefa Champions League final tonight. Rúben turns away from his locker, trying to brush out a crease that had formed in his shorts. 

“Yes, she flew with the kids. They landed, like two hours ago.” He tells him, going to the mirror to begin fussing with his hair, even though he would just be pushing it back out of his face anyway. “This puts even more pressure. I’m basically obliged to perform well.” 

“She flew alone with two kids for what four hours?” Bernardo joins the conversation, grinning at Rúben. “She is a wonder woman.” 

“She definitely is!” John agrees, walking over to pat Rúben's shoulder comfortingly but he shakes his head, already nervous at the idea of his kids watching him. After the loss in the final 2021 and in the semi’s in 2022, Rúben promised his family to win the next time around. And now it was hitting him hard - he never breaks his promises. The pressure was definitely skyrocketing through the roof. 

*

It all happened very fast. You needed a couple of seconds to process that Rodri in fact had scored a beautiful goal. Which meant that City took the lead 1-0. There were approximately 20 more minutes and if City were able to handle the tension, that meant that the guys would complete a treble. You knew what that meant to them, to Rúben. Everything was at a very high stake. Your stomach was in knots and your leg bobbed up and down with anxiousness as you were looking at the clock, counting down the seconds until the end of the match, until the referee's final whistle. 

After what felt like the longest extra time that you’ve experienced in a match it was finally over, when the end of the match was announced everybody in the VIP sector (the families of the players) stood up and raised their arms in joy, cheering in excitement. 

“George. Azlia. Come on! Let’s go congratulate daddy!” you took them by their hands and somehow managed to get down to the pitch. 

The three of you push your way through the crowd on the soccer field. It was hard for you to see the way in the ocean of bodies. Then John taps lightly on your shoulder and points at a gap you can pass through. That’s when you see him. He has his back turned to you, engaged in conversation with a staff member. He doesn’t see you, but it’s like he feels you coming, and turns around, his gaze landing to you. Without looking back at the man behind him, he excuses himself and starts making his way over to you. 

“Papai!” George screams as he breaks away from your hand and runs to your husband, obviously he can't contain his excitement anymore. Rúben kneels down to be on the same level as him and he runs straight in his arms. You picked up Azlia as she was struggling to keep up with your pace with her little feet, because you wanted to get to Rúben faster. 

As you finally reach him you walk right into his open arms, your hands fisting his jersey. It feels so good to be holding him. 

“You did it! I’m so, so, so proud of you, amor! You did so good! I’m so happy for you! A treble, wow..unbelievable!” you said quite loudly in his ear with a smile that hurt your cheeks. 

You raised your head a little and he bent down a little, so you could share a kiss. As you pulled away, you gave him a kiss to the side of his mouth and ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Eu te amo, meu amor.” he said to you, looking directly into your eyes wanting to look into them forever. 

Not breaking eye contact you replied just a heartbeat later “Te amo mais.” 

“Da-da,da-..” Azlia babbled in your arms, reminding you guys of her existence. 

“Eu também te amo, princesa.” Rúben said as he kissed her chubby cheeks. 

*

The awarding took place very quickly. You moved away with the rest of the wives, girlfriend and family members of the players and found yourself jumping from conversation to conversation. Everyone was so excited. Except the kids. They didn’t understand what was happening and just ran away the second the ceremony was done. 

You were frantically looking for Azlia when you felt two big, strong hands on your waist, bringing you into a hug from behind. 

“What are you doing, love?” Rúben asked with amusement. 

“I’m looking for Azlia! I can’t find her! George ran away with Roman and Riaan, and I swear Azlia was standing right beside me and now she is gone.” you said while turning in his arms, to face him. 

“Baby she is a one-and-a-half-year-old, with tiny little legs. How far can she go?” he chuckled, as you continued to search for her with your eyes. 

“Oh, there she is. Taking pictures with the other kids.” you finally spotted her, taking a picture with Kyle, his sons and Ronnie. 

“Baby, chill. These kids are having the time of their lives. They can’t stay in the same position for more than 10 seconds. Look at them running around!” Rúben assured you. That made you smile, but not as much as when you watched Ronnie chasing Azlia around and the two pig tails on top of her hair were bouncing with every step she took.

“Aww, look babe, Ronnie is showing Azi his medal. How cute!” you pointed at them for Rúben to see. 

“He is now putting his medal on her..” Rúben stated quite shook “Yo, Foden, watch your son!” he then shouted in Phil’s direction, who stood all the way to the other side of the pitch. 

“Rúben! Oh my God! Baby..they are kids..” you hit his chest lightly, bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“I have a medal, too..I’m gonna go show it to her.” and with that he left you watching him attempt to come close to Ronnie and Azlia, but when they saw him approaching them - they ran away laughing.

[i-write-things]

Pen, I know New Years already went by but, how did your favorite Troupe members spent their new year days? (hcs)

Ugh, dw, I'm even later to answering this request. But I shall answer, anyway.

(None of these will be yandere)

Chrollo-

So it all depends on who he is spending it with. If he's with the troupe, he'll likely plan like a small scale heist, then go back somewhere (probably the hideout) and throw a small party. However, with Uvogin and Phinks there, it ends up much larger than he intended. Not that he cares. He sees his troupe, his people, happy. If his darling is part of the Phantom Troupe, while everyone is distracting counting down the new year, he'll sneak in a quick, new year's kiss-one of the few, rare times he'll do PDA in front of his family.

If he's by himself or just with his darling, he'll probably just spend it inside and relax. He'd read majority of the day away, unless darling has something planned. He would cook for you, u less you wanted to cook for him. He wouldn't want to eat out somewhere, because he wants it to be a quiet moment. So expect just a simple night, talking and relaxing the night away until the countdown, where he kisses you more passionately than he would have in front of the troupe.

"If fate will allow it, lets try to spend the rest of this year together, too."

Machi-

Machi, like Chrollo, is definitely more reserved. She'd prefer to stay indoors, but go on a walk at night. She'd also like to watch the countdown as well, but don't expect a kiss from her unless you've been together for some time. You'll have to be the one to initiate that.

If she's partying with the troupe, it's one of the more rare times you can see her true feelings. No pressure to do well in a hiest, none of her family is in danger, ect. She can just enjoy the moment. First thing, she'd probably ask Chrollo if he already has any plans for the new year. "So, what are you planning to do for a great new year, boss?" *She'd ever so slightly smile.

Feitan-

By far, the least of a party person here, unless it involves kidnapping or torturing. So it's not too surprising when he enjoys himself at a troupe party. He can hang out with his murder bro (Phinks) and probably play a prank or two with Shal on said murder bro. He gets into a shots battle with either Uvo or Phinks (maybe even both) to see who doesn't pass out from so many shots....or get alcohol poisoning.

If he's by himself, he does literally nothing. He doesn't see it as too different of a day. Although, of course, he does like the 'new year, new me' thing. and by that, I mean he'll try out different methods of torture. If his darling is there with them, he might slightly bring up spending time with them, but only if they're aware of his...career.

"...Hey, You....like...come torture....with me?" *Of course, that's his broken way of inviting you to torture some poor souls with him.

Shalnark-

Finally! Someone who loves to party! If he's spending time with the troupe, you can bet he's one of the main people who keep it awesome. He'll bring most of the party games. And of course, play most of the new years pranks (on anyone but Chrollo and Machi. He doesn't want to bug Machi, knowing how cold she is, and while the boss wouldn't mind, there's no way he'd be able to catch him off gaurd.) He, Paku, Shizuku, and Machi usually set up the decorations if they're feeling extra festive. Oh, and expect a bunch of selfies and pictures from the party if you're not there.

If he isn't at a troupe party, then he's probably party hopping around. He'd bring his darling with him, too. He'd get into the most bizarre and fun parties. If there is a bouncer who won't let him in, he can just stick him with an antenna. Though, he probably won't have to, considering he was preparing for this and has already hacked into most party systems to add his name, and brings you as his plus one. Expect a very sweet kiss from this boy at the countdown. You two only go home once one of you is hammered. If it's you, he laughs and comments on how much fun you had. "Haha! Looks like someone had fun!" If it's him, he'll have his arm wrapped around you and drunkenly slur, "Y'know baby, this was a great bew year...ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick.."

Uvogin-

Alcohol. Is it much of a surprise? I think not. Shalnark brings most of the games, and Uvo brings the alcohol. I'm talking beer, wine, ale, mead, whiskey, just about anything and everyone's favorite, including their favorite brand. And when I say the life of the party, I mean the life of the party. You think Shal and Fei's pranks bring the chaos? That ain't nothin' compared to our very own Uvogin's capabilities. On top of being very chaotic, he's also very loud. Probably the main reason why, if they choose to put on music, it has to be turned up so loud....he's also probably the one who puts it on in the first place after getting so drunk.

If he's not with the troupe for New Years, he's probably raiding other people's parties, but not in the way Shalnark does. Shalnark just infiltrates those places and kills maybe 3-0 people. Uvo, on the other hand, full on raids the party. (mostly for the 'good stuff') He might even hurt someone simy to see others react, though. But if that's way too much chaos for his darling, he'll keep the violence to a minimum. But expect to get very drunk. Because he'll be handing you lots of cans, and saying "Drinks on me all night!...and these other fellas, too! Hahaha!"

Phinks-

Where would Phinks be, if not with his murder bro(Feitan)? Of course, he would love to have a party with his family and it'll be a blast. Though, other than trying to best Uvo in their annual shots game, he'll mostly be chasing Shal and Fei around for the dumb pranks they pull on him. Of course, he doesn't do this the entire time. He also really likes to socialize, too! He'll just be having a casual conversation, mostly with Feitan, The boss, Shal, Uvo, or Kortopi.

If he's not partying with his gang, he'll probably stay indoors, but still throw a full on party. He doesn't have to have 70 people at a party to have fun. Though, he does have a tradition of New Years Giving, where people give things to him...and by that, I mean he walks around every night and just takes what he wants while everyone is distracted. Of course, he won't always do this. If his darling asks him to stay inside, he will. He can still have a nice New Years with just the two of you!

"Mm, ok. I won't go stealin' or raiding anything, tonight. But, only on the condition you spend the rest of the year with me." He chuckles, delivering a very cheesey kiss after a very cheesey line.

Pakunoda-

She likes to bring in all the games. Pakunoda has always been, other than Chrollo and Shalnark, the adhesive of the group. Could they all get along just fine without them? Of course. They've known each other since forever. But those three still really help keep the peace. So it's not surprising she, along with Shal, likes to bring in all the games. Mostly the fun, team bonding ones. Though majority of them never get played, it's still fun. She also usually brings most of the food. She's actually quite the cook. Her, Machi, and Chrollo make most of the food. Sometimes, the others will order a couple of items and pick them up, back that's about it. At these parties, she loves to casually socialize and just watch her family do what they do. Create chaos, play pranks and games, argue, laugh, ect.

If there is no party with them, she actually probably just plays a couple of games with her s/o, cooks something nice, and has some nice champagne. Pretty much the stereotypical couple's night on New Years.

Shizuku-

If there's a party, it takes her a bit to arrive. She either gets lost, or forgets where she's going. She's supposed to bring some snacks or games or decorations, but she forgot them at home. So she'll probably just...get everyone some coffee? Yeah, people like coffee, why not on New Years? Oh, a member doesn't like coffee? Oh yeahhhh....Oh well, too late now. She'll try better next year. She likes to watch everyone play games, but also has a blast playing them herself. She also updates everyone how much more time is left until the new year....but forgets to check the last second. So it usually ends up being Machi, Chrollo, or Shalnark that let's everyone know its the last minute of the year.

If she's not at that party, she doesn't do anything. She honestly doesn't care too much. Unless her s/o has something planned, or asks her to do something, then she'll go. But other than that, she doesn't care much. In fact, she doesn't care too much about the countdown, and will just go to bed. She might refuse to get up, even if her s/o asks her to. The best way to get her to get up is to tell her there's fireworks outside. She likes watching those.

[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 8

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️This chapter contains: billy hargrove x reader, smut, oral sex (f receiving), physical pain, hospital mention, dirty talking

wc: 5.4k

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

A/N: I entered with a bang today. Sorry it took so long! I had a lot of work going on but I finally managed to write a few things! Don't forget to go to my profile's masterlist to see my other works!

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->

Chapter 8

“Shit… Shit, shit, shit!” He groaned in pain, the bindings on his wrists and ankles onto the hospital bed not helping with his writhing. 

He felt as if he were engulfed in flames, as if there was lava all around him, his body ablaze in a red crimson color, and his belly felt a pressure that he never felt before. He didn’t know what was going on. He was at his home, playing his guitar, and then he just felt feverish.

Why was he in the hospital? Wait, it’s not even a hospital, it looks like a private room of some sort, but he couldn’t hear anyone outside. His sight finally focused and he looked to his side, seeing Wayne getting up from his seat with a pained frown in his face, rushing towards his nephew.

“Why am I here Wayne?” 

“They’re specialists in this Eddie, but you’ll be okay son, I promise I will keep you safe.”

A doctor, or that’s what Eddie thought he was because of the white robe, entered the room. He was sort of bald, dark hair, beard and had glasses on, but another shot of pain surged in his belly and he tugged onto the restraints of his wrists. He felt a warm hand press on his forehead to push him back down to the pillow and he saw Wayne’s pained expression looking down on him.

“I will keep you safe.”

Eddie’s eyes shot open, sweat all over his body as heavy breaths left his mouth. He looked over at his clock, signaling 2 AM, sharp. He groaned, sitting up on his bed and that’s when he felt the strong migraine that started to develop. His hand shot towards his head, and he cursed under his breath, feeling warmth expanding towards his chest.

He picked up his phone and immediately opened instagram. Numerous accounts of random girls popped on his profile and his stories, and he started watching them one by one. One posted 2 hours ago, the other 3 hours ago, the next one posted a story 6 hours ago, and then he finally came across Tara. Posted herself drinking at a club 21 minutes ago. 

He winced as he looked up to the ceiling, he knew that the ache was not leaving him unless he did this. He looked back down towards his phone and sent a text to the girl.

‘PIck you up in 20?’ 

Straight forward, no pleasantries, he didn’t care for them really. These women, he just had them for these kinds of cases, not that they knew about it, and the sex was always mediocre, but it helped. It was always empty, thrusting into a hole, no excitement to it, no real attraction except the one they had for him.

He sighed as he waited for the response. He felt another sting in the side of his head as well as if a punch was directed into his belly. 

“Son of a fucking bitch.” He grabbed the ponytail in his nightstand, putting his hair in a bun. Always conditioned to this part of him that wanted to take over his body. Always feeling weak thanks to all the medication he has to take. Always feeling like an animal because of these things he does to women who just want to have a good time.

And he was never satisfied.

But they all had to do. They just simply had to do it for now.

His phone made a ‘Ting’ sound and he looked down on it.

‘Always rdy 4 u bby ;)’

Eddie rolled his eyes, getting up from his bed to get dressed with a groan. It’s just a hole, just a helper, that’s all he thinks about. That’s all it is. When was the last time he had an enjoyable time with someone else? His pleasure was never equal to his partner’s, so he often wondered if he will always be the problem of his demise.

For now, that’s what it seems like.

You fixed your skirt as you took a deep breath in, clearing your throat before going into the meeting room where your client was alongside your boss and other editors.

Be professional. It’s your workplace. Behave.

You opened the door to find your Boss, Liana, sitting at the very end of the table. On her right was a man in a suit, then you found your co-editor in this article, Tony, and then on Liana’s left side was Billy Hargrove, smiling at you, no, smirking at you with mischief in his eyes as the chattering of the room dimmed down as you entered.

Your belly filled with knots as you locked eyes with him, clearing your throat slightly as you noticed that the only available seat was right next to him. 

“Good morning.” You called out and Liana beamed up at you, calling out your name. You had an exceptional relationship with your boss, it was far from friendship, but the trust was there as well as confidentiality. She had trusted you with small projects, then bigger ones, and now this would be the second huge project you would do for the magazine, but this time it is only you. Last project you shared it with Robin, when she actually put a little bit of effort.

But Robin took this job because it paid, not because it was her long term dream, and you understood that. You actually studied Fashion and made your way to get an Editor degree. Your passion stood here, in the background of the flashes of cameras and interviews. You preferred pen and paper, to voice out the new trends to long term designers, or show off new ones to the world. Entrepreneurs, even people you had scouted on TikTok and Instagram.

You wanted to shove the great chain industries away, for fresh material. Balenciaga, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, that’s just what they are. Names. Fashion wise it was too old, too bland, too antique. And then, on TikTok, small businesses of high fashion popped up, people that made these dresses and clothes out of pure love and ambition. You wanted that in the new world, in the new generation. 

But for now, you have to stick to big companies, and hope that next project you will be able to talk Liana into bringing a new designer for the photoshoots.

“Please, take a seat! We are discussing our meetings with our next clients.” You walked around the table, taking a seat next to Billy, who shot you a smile. Liana interrupted again in order to present you to Billy, thinking you two haven��t met before. You were about to correct her that you actually met Billy before by coincidence, but Billy just grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles, making your cheeks redden slightly at the gesture.

“Beautiful name. Cannot be happier that a woman like yourself will be guiding this project.” He says into your hand, his warm breath hitting your skin which sends goosebumps all over your body and you could only stare at his blue eyes. Liana chuckled under her breath and that made you snap out, pushing the butterflies in your belly aside, taking your hand away from him.

“Nice meeting you too, Mr. Hargrove. And thank you for that flattery.” You finish saying as formal as possible, sitting down right next to him, putting your suitcase on top of the table. Liana sat down again with a content sigh as you fished your papers out of the leathery case.

“Okay, so, we know Curtis Delore wants more details on these designs, wanting to change it a bit to put on you Mr. Hargrove. He wants to buy the blueprints on these–”

“Actually…” You cut Liana off and your boss already knew you went a step ahead, a smile brooding on her red lips. Liana can always trust your diligent work, and she could see the passion you have for this industry and what it could be. So, she let you continue. “I took the time to contact Millie, and I may have sent her a copy of this article so that she could pass it onto her boss.”

“I already love the mention of Millie.” Liana says and Billy and his manager only looked with confused faces to one another, to then go back at you.

“I got a call this morning from Kim Jones himself that he wants to purchase the blueprint for the next collection and he is also very interested in the model himself for the campaign.” You say with a smirk on your face and Liana simply cheered in excitement. That meant that the design is now valued almost ten times than what it was going to be originally purchased at. Billy was still confused and looked at his manager, Ralph, who cleared his throat to catch both of your attention.

“Excuse me Ladies, who is Kim Jones?” He asked and you slid one of your papers towards Billy and then one towards Ralph. His eyes bulged out of their sockets as he looked up at Billy, who almost had the same expression in his face. 

“You got me to model for Dior? Dior Homme?” Billy slowly turned his head to look at you and you still had the snicker in the inside of your cheek, giving him a shrug.

“It’s a possibility, if you do desire to take it that is.” Billy looked at his manager, then smiled widely, throwing himself back on his chair, running his hands through his hair out of pure happiness. In his career, the only big gig he got was the Chanel advertisement, clothes wise, he didn’t get high couture brands to pick him as their face or body. 

But, the Chief Designer of Dior Homme was actually interested in him. 

He felt his chest almost exploding as he looked at the table and saw the three people all around him chatting excitedly. They were talking about numbers, and possibilities but Billy’s eyes could only look at you. How your mouth moved, how your eyes sparkled with ambition and he couldn’t help but drown in the sound of your voice.

And oh, how he wants to fuck you into his mattress for what you just did for him.

He really wants to show you how grateful he is. How happy you just made him by giving him an opportunity like this, despite him trying to make a move on you. You didn’t take it as offensive, and you didn’t push him away completely because of it either, you didn’t butcher his opportunity to show him a lesson, but you even gave him a bigger chance. 

And he really wants to make it up to you.

Once the percentage of the gainings were talked about and how Billy’s patronage with Dior would give a small percent to the company, the meeting finally ended. 

“Ralph, may I speak with you for a second? It’s just a legal matter.” Liana says with a smile as she guides Ralph to her office. You sighed in contentment, your insides up in flames at how well everything went as you turned into the hall to go to the elevators. You cannot wait to tell Robin about this, or maybe you shouldn’t. You don’t want to rub this in her face, because this would have given her a lot of commission if she were still in the team.

Maybe you can tell her as if it’s not a big deal, or just simply not tell her anything at all. But you needed to tell someone, because this was a big step, and you couldn’t– 

Your thoughts were completely cut off as you felt a hand grip onto your bicep, guiding you into a storage room that was near the hallway you were crossing. Your eyes widened in the darkness, brazing onto your suitcase to swing it, when the lights turned on above you. You turned around to find blue eyes staring down at you with an intensity that was making your knees grow weak. 

The sound of a lock was heard in the room as you took a step away from the man. He was a model, yes, but what if he was a psychopath? You didn’t know the guy, and now he has you locked up in a storage room in the building where you work. 

“Um, Mr. Hargrove–” He put his hands up for you to stay silent as he looked at you, a smile drawing on his lips which was making the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around.

“Billy…” He reminded you and you blinked while staring at him, feeling your throat going dry as you saw how his eyes moved around as he tried to find the words to say. Was he nervous? “I wanted to thank you. I mean, apart from Ralph, no one ever put that much faith in me, or my work before.”

You were stunned. He was actually grateful for what you did, and that made your chest go warm at his actions. It saddened you slightly that no one paid attention to him before, because Billy was beautiful, and sexy when he had to be. He has multiple faces that people can possibly use, and you were happy to be the one to introduce him to that chain of possibilities. 

“It’s my job Billy… But I am glad this can help you out now, and in the future.” He gave you a nod as you kept smiling at him but that smile slowly lowered as he took one step closer, tentatively. His hands reached for your suitcase, taking it from your hands to put it on the floor. Your eyes widened and your throat went dry as he looked down on you. 

His eyes were lustful, but the tint of red on his cheeks told you that he was excited. The gaze he was looking at you with was enough to make your core clench, and your belly burn with intensity as he took another step towards you. You didn’t notice that you were taking your own steps back, not until you felt the cold wall against your back. 

You have to talk, you really have to talk, tell him that he is crossing the line, that you were sort of his boss in this situation, but his eyes. There was something in his eyes that was not filled with lust.

Billy was admiring you right now. 

“If you’d let me, Mousy…” He slowly starts kneeling in front of you, your eyes widening as your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight. This supermodel, this way too handsome of a man, was kneeling in front of you, and your whole body broke into a sweat. “I would like to show you just how grateful I am…”

“Y-You don’t have to do it, it’s part of my job–” His right hand raised up, brushing on the side of your left thigh, slowly, fingertips as light as feathers, and your skin grew goosebumps thanks to it. You shivered at the touch, and your belly turned with anticipation at what could happen right now.

“I want to. You don’t know how much I want to.” And Billy doesn’t say it, but he never wants to. But you, you are different. He wants to please you, ultimately make you see stars, helping you to relax, to untangle yourself from the everyday nerves. You gulped and almost let out a small groan when his fingers dug into the skin of your thigh. 

“B-Billy, I don’t know if we should–” You tried to stop this, but you didn’t really want to. Your excitement and your nerves were moving all around your body, going through your veins from head to toe, warming you up and making your heart pump even faster to keep you conscious. 

“Let me eat you Mousy… I need to taste you, god how I want to taste you…” He wasn’t even looking at you as his fingers creeped under your skirt, going up, leaving a trail of fire at each graze of his touch on your skin. You looked up at the ceiling as your breath started picking up. 

“I won’t do anything to you later.” You state, putting your foot down to see if he will stop his movements when he realizes he is not getting anything out of this. But your eyes widened when you felt his fingers hook with the elastic of your underwear, and slowly slide it down your legs. You looked down to see blue irises staring directly into you, a lustful look hiding behind his black blown pupils and he said the next words without a smirk, a smile, or anything at all that would tell you he was playing with you.

“I am doing this because I want to. Not because I expect anything, Mousy.” All your life, you met men that wanted to take or wanted something in return for what they did to you. Women were a different thing, there was no way around it when it came to that, one has to get off the other and that’s final, but men really don’t care about that. 

He urged your right foot to step out of one of the holes of your underwear and then you felt him raise your left leg up, your breath getting stuck in your throat as he hooked your under knee over his shoulder. You gasped when you realized he was staring directly at your center, and you tried to pull your skirt down for him to not see, a deep blush covering your entire body at how open you felt.

He tsked at you, and with his right hand he gripped your hand that was pulling your skirt down and looked up at you with a shake of his head. Your underwear was dangling off your left ankle and your hand was moved away by him as your other helped you stay stable against the wall. He smirked as he bunched up your tight skirt up, going over your ass so he could have a clear view in front of him

In all honesty, you could have avoided this situation. He didn’t seem like a guy who would take a No like a complete offense. He would have let you go the moment you struggled a little bit, but you didn’t. Because you felt the desire the moment he closed the door on the two of you. The tension that has been building up for the past week. 

And wanted nothing else than for him to continue.

“Fuck– Let me thank you properly Mousy… I’ll make you feel real good.” He moved forward, and you felt your whole body shake in anticipation as his breath felt closer and closer on you. Your eyes widened when he blew a bit of air on you, and you realized thanks to the coldness that you were already wet. And he didn’t even touch you yet.

He chuckled as he saw the glistening of your slick, licking his lips as he pressed a kiss above your clit, just gently, teasingly, and you bit on your bottom lip to hold back the whine that wanted to come out of your mouth. He raised his hands up, and got hold of your ass, making your lower body lean forward to him and your hand immediately shot to his head as the other held onto the wall because you needed stability.

His smirk widened as he looked up at you and you stared down at him, alarmingly, because you realized that you fell into it. You grabbed onto his head. A clear invitation. And thanks to that, he was moving forward to press a kiss on your throbbing nub, making you squeal slightly. 

He trembled with excitement at the sound, almost as if he were an animal tasting his prey. But you were no prey. You were a prize. A beautiful prize. And he wanted it, he really did want it. 

His excitement though, betrayed his teasing, and his tongue flicked out to finally get a long lick up your slit, tasting you, and you threw your head back at the sensation, a groan getting caught in your throat. He moaned at your taste, taking another lick for good measure, making your hand clench on his hair. 

“You taste so sweet… Fuck, I think I’m gonna get addicted to you.” And like that, he went in. All in. His tongue lapping your wet folds as if he were a starved man, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue every now and then and you couldn’t help the breathy moans that escaped your lips. 

Holy shit. Billy Hargrove was eating you out. Out of his pure pleasure.

He gripped into the flesh of your ass to pull you even closer in order for his tongue to go even deeper and finally shove it inside of you to taste your walls. His nose was hitting on your clit just right as he moved his head to the thrust of his tongue. You threw your head back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, bliss filling your body as you tried to keep your moans as low as possible.

Your grip in his hair shifted, tightening to then let go to rub it gently. He pulled out of your mouth to now solely focus on your clit, putting his lips around it to suck on it while flicking the tip of his tongue against it, and that made you moan out a little louder.

“Fuck, Billy–” He moaned against you as you called his name as if it were a prayer. He let go of your clit, to repeatedly flick it with his tongue, making your hips shake slightly at the feeling. Oh, he was going to be the death of you today, but how long has it been since someone took care of you in this way?

How long has it been since someone cared enough to do so?

His left hand left your ass cheek, to move to your front. He was sucking onto your clit as his index finger touched your slit, coating it in your fluids to lubricate it before pushing it inside, slowly and tentatively. You took a sharp intake of breath at the intrusion, but loved it nonetheless, the grip you had in his hair tightening at the feeling. His tongue never stopped moving on you as his finger started going in and out, in a slow pace. 

You were trying to keep your moans as low as you could but you had nothing to cover your mouth with. Both hands were occupied with something. One was on the wall to keep you from falling and the other was in blonde curls. You wanted more, you needed more. Your belly was starting to pulse, and burn for him.

He pulled away from your clit to take a look at you, and what he saw made the bulge in his pants, which was already hard enough for the buttons to pop out of his jeans, simply twitch. Your face was completely flushed, your eyes half closed from the pleasure you were feeling, and breathy moans were escaping your lips.

But his name, his name was coming out of them as well.

“Can you feel it doll? How thankful I am for what you did?” He licked his lips with a smirk as you whined at his words. He will have his chance on being the one in control some other time. Right now, he had to show you how happy you made him today. So he will return the favor. 

“Billy, I need to…” Your words got stuck in your throat as his finger kept thrusting into you but it wasn’t enough. The squelching sound of your wetness could be heard in the small room, making your belly turn in embarrassment and arousal at the same time. He hummed as he pressed a kiss to the thigh that was draped over his shoulder.

“What do you need, Mousy? I’ll give it to you… Anything you need. Anything you want.” And there was a hidden message behind those words, a message that only Billy knew about. He nibbled on your flesh to urge you to talk and you gasped slightly at the bite, looking down at him.

“I want to… I want to cum, please…” You beg of him and he almost fainted at how good you sound, at how pornographic your voice is like this. Breathless, with choked up moans in it. With his name stuck on your lips, your legs trembling over him, and he was glad he decided to show up to the meeting today. He was gonna let Ralph handle it, meet you afterwards as he snuck away from his manager, but this was much better. So much better.

He added his middle finger now with his index one, and your mouth fell agape, feeling the tight coil in your belly starting to snap slowly. He started moving his fingers, thrusting into you slowly at first and he guided his head towards your clit, sucking on it to add to the stimulation. Your eyes widened at the feeling to then clench them closed, your other hand gripping onto his hair as well as your back held you against the wall.

“Fuck! Billy– You’re so good, what the fu–” You almost moaned loudly, but you held it in as soon as you opened your mouth for it. He curled his fingers inside of you, his pace increasing and you were grinding your hips against his face now, your hands gripping his hair tightly to push him into you, for him to keep going, for him to keep making you feel so wonderfully blissful right now, for him to keep moving on you, for him to keep showing you how grateful he is to you.

“Cum on my face baby, come on, I can feel it…” He says into you with a smirk on his lips before attacking your clit again with his tongue. Your breathing became too heavy, your chest going up and down as the knot grew in your belly, and it burned, and it was unbearable until it finally snapped. 

One of your hands flew to your mouth, the other holding Billy’s hair still, pushing him into you as your walls clenched around his fingers, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tilted your head back, almost hitting yourself against the wall. You were seeing white, then flashes of stars all around you as he kept shaking his head against you, helping you to ride your orgasm.

He took a deep breath in, breathing heavy when he felt your hand release his hair a bit. Your left leg was shaking over him and he was blown out by how responsive you were to him. He smirked, leaning over to take a long lick of your juices that were already dripping down your inner thighs. You winced at the overstimulation, looking down at him through teary eyes. You gripped onto his hair again, and motioned him to stop.

“Too much– Please…” You were breathless. You didn’t expect your day to turn out like this at all, but here you were. And you didn’t wish to be anywhere else at all. Billy pulled away from you, putting your left leg onto the floor, but not before slipping your underwear out of your ankle. You almost fell, feeling your legs shake because of the aftershock of your orgasm. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, getting up from the floor to face you again.

His knees hurt, his jaw was sore, but his mouth was filled of you, and he wanted more. He needed more.

“Did my thanks go through?”  He asked with a smirk to his face and you looked up at him, with half hooded eyes, your pupils still dilated from the pleasure you just received. His eyes almost widened at the sight. He wanted to kiss you, really badly, taste your lips, make you taste yourself in his mouth. You gave him a tired smirk, making him raise an eyebrow up.

“It did Mr. Hargrove.” Your breath was slowly catching up on you, and you realized your skirt was still up, and you pulled it down, to then look at him again. “Can you give me back my underwear?”

“What underwear?” He says with a sly smirk on his lips that it makes you tremble with desire once again. How did he do it so easily? The butterflies in your stomach reappeared to wreak havoc once more inside of you. 

“The black panties that are on your hand?” You say to him and he slowly puts said panties into the backpocket of his denim jeans, his face coming closer as he talked.

“You came commando today, Mousy.” He was keeping them. He was going to keep your underwear to do god knows what later on. This man, who didn’t ask for anything back right now from you, ignoring the hard bulge that was in his pants, and he just did it out of pure pleasure and also because of the lust he holds for you. You were speechless at his actions, because never once you had a man be this passionate to you. Never this filthy.

He was staring at you, his face as close as he could, breath grazing all of your face and you wanted to dive into his lips, feel them on you, wanting nothing more than to feel how his mouth linked with yours in a frenzied kiss. But he was waiting, patiently, because the line was crossed, but not quite. The next step was yours to take.

“I want to thank you too… How about Friday?” 

His smirk grew as he heard your words, licking the inside of his bottom lip, and his chest puffed in victory. You knew that this might be a one night stand. That his fixation with you will be gone as soon as you two have sex, but you needed him. You wanted him. Fuck the game of cat and mouse.

“Friday sounds perfect… And trust me, you don’t have to thank me Mousy… But if you insist.” He pulled away from you, fixing his hair with a wipe of his hand through it. You gulped as you stared at him and he kept his eyes on yours. He leaned over again, his instincts wanting to betray him, but he stopped as his lips graced yours. Your breath hitched at the touch, and your skin was burning from how aroused you were feeling for him. “God, I want to fucking kiss you.” 

“Friday…” Was your quick response. You knew that if he kissed you now, your one night stand would be at work, and with all honesty, you wanted a whole night with him. You wanted to be able to hear him grunt, moan, and call your name, but you also wanted to scream to let him know how you were feeling.

Because you know, Billy Hargrove was gonna make you scream. And you could hardly wait for it.

“Friday.” He pulled off you completely this time, and you felt the cold embracing you at the lack of body heat. He backed off from you, a smile on his lips as he unlocked the door, giving you a small wink before sliding out and closing the door behind him. The room being void of his cologne now, and you could only smell it 

You finally let yourself slam against the wall, your body shaking as you pressed your hands to your face, feeling the strong heat that was on your skin, smiling widely at what you just experienced. You felt a cold breeze in between your legs, and you clenched your eyes at the feel of your arousal on your inner thighs. You had to go wash yourself.

But that didn’t make your smile falter one bit. You were still trying to believe what had just happened, and not because it was Billy Hargrove. That was a bonus. Someone actually made you feel pleasure, after so long of faking orgasms, of making up excuses to not meet with bad hookups, after taking care of your needs by yourself.

You had to thank Billy properly. It was the right thing to do.

End of chapter 8

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A/N: I know the smut it's not with who you would want it to be, but we need some backstory before we get to the juicy bits u kno. I will avoid future smut with Billy to focus on Eddie, this was just to introduce him like this into Reader's life.

If you wish to be in my tag list, comment or send me an ask!

Taglist: @enam3l @katethetank @seatnights @oliskitten @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell @babez-a-licious @arsenicred @bl4ckt00thgr1n @harrysgothicbitch @emma77645 @fictionalcomforts @hellv1ra @sarcastically-defensive17

[mecachrome]

wahh thank u @scrappyracers for the tag i enjoyed ur answers a lot :') f1 tag game...

Who is your favorite driver?: i am an oscarybro first & foremost <3 he's the only driver i truly rep because honestly i don't think i have the bandwidth for more even if i wanted to/tried!!

Do you have other favorite drivers?: i would basically put alex below oscar in his own little tier and then it's just like [WALL]... but i'm also fond of yuki + lando + lewis and respekt maxv :') the rest of the grid i honestly don't think about 99% of the time LOL not in a bad way but because i barely have enough energy for My Guys as is u know

Who is your least favorite driver?: 😔 i feel bad sharing hateurisms on my family friendly blog. 

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?: def drivers first but i genuinely like mclaren as a racing outfit so that helps!!! when oscar was still in alp i suffered so much because of it being a deeply unserious team and even back then when the cracks were still forming this was fairly evident because i had a rossi agenda, so i was like wegghhhh i guess i can enjoy a williams stint/swallow down alpine content for him. 😔 and then he replaced [answer to question above which at the time hindered my mcl support significantly] and i got the ultimate driver pairing at a team i'm actually quite fond of ❤️🤍🖤

If you like teams, what team do you pull for?: any1 else papayapilled??? 🧡

How long have you been into F1?: a little over 2 years!!! how i managed to get into this sport via an inactive reserve driver i don't know.....

What got you into F1?: several friends were getting into it & were reading mxl fic & things of that nature and even though i wasn't really invested in any of the ships presented i ended up biting as well... but fsr i was not compelled by most f1 content / barely watched dts and instead got reeaaally into feeder series, i think perhaps because at the time i was fascinated by prospect projections + mapping / modeling career trajectories + the idea of "ceilings" in hockey and was watching a ton of jr hockey so it kind of translated over and i got to enjoy masterclasses like litr the most broken broadcast streams ever of kimi driving off into the distance in adac f4. But anyway... i also watched chasing the dream and became obsessed with oscar from that and the rest was history 😌🐨🧡

Do you enjoy Fanfic/RPF?: i definitely read it!!! RPF Is Fine etc. i've written 2 effwon fics very poorly and that's it but i peruse the 814 archives regularly..... i forever need to be better at commenting and feel very bad about my own shyness but i think this fandom has such a wealth of incred authors whom i am always in awe of x__x 🧡 tho i will say i'm also a stickler for the 4th wall and it mildly horrifies me that 814 are 75% public..... also fun fact 814 is my favorite oscar ship but it's only my #3 lando ship LOL. j(e|o)ndo you are so special 2 meee

How do you view new fans?: well i'm a relatively new fan so 💗 honestly i barely witness or process most fandom discourse wrt: gatekeeping the sport or dts fans or what have you since i do not frequent those circles of the internet (no public twitter / have never downloaded tiktok in my life) so i don't even know the primary arguments!!

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?: i should never be put in charge of anything. now i'm just trying to think strategically like okay where would i want to live but even then i have no idea... 

Are your friends and family into F1 as well?: my family could not care less but def the former !!! 💗 going to my 2nd gp soon with my beloved chirlie friend who has been with me thru k-pop fandom for like 8 years now hehe

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?: yes i'm just very shy & have multiple anxiety disorders Amongst other things so pls forgive my neuroticism 😭😭😭 but i love 2 have discussions.... oscar piastri lore is my passion in fact <3

0 pressure tagging @bright-and-burning @piastrisms @miamimaiden @goingxmissing If u would like !!! these r fun qs i like hearing about people's fandom journeys/experiences hehe :')

[jebewonmorelike]

I Hate You, (I Want You), Seok Matthew

wc: 1.6k warnings: angst with a happy/fluff ending; swearing; mentions of hook-up culture; drinking (reader is 21, 3rd year of college); frat/party setting pronouns: none used; reader has a femme best friend summary: fratboy!matthew au oops ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ matthew is that sweet, introspective fratboy that respects his partners that we all wish existed, but literally never will. so enjoy pretending that boys are nice through this little fic. love u. &lt;3

Matthew Seok made your blood boil.

And none of your friends could understand why.

You'd spent many a night in your dorm, tipsily listing all of his infuriating tendencies and desperately trying to rally support for your Anti-Matt campaign.

But no matter how many times you explained it to them, they just shrugged you off. And if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn't really blame them. There was a time not so long ago when you only saw his good traits, too.

But that was before.

And now all you wanted to do was take the girls that waited for him in the hallway by the shoulders and shake them until their rose-colored glasses fell off.

Your distaste for Matthew Seok was so strong that you'd started avoiding places you liked to go, since every time you left your dorm you somehow had the misfortune of bumping into him. And you just couldn't stomach it: turning the corner, meeting his eyes, walking away before he could say anything...

The feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach.

You hated it.

You hated him.

"Get dressed, we're going out," your friend Megan announces as she walks through the door, startling you out of your boredom-induced daze.

"What? Why?" You ask quickly, not liking the determined look on her face.

"Because you've done nothing but go to class and sit here at your desk pretending to do homework for a month straight. You're an undeclared Liberal Arts major... How much homework could you possibly have?"

You pouted. "What are you trying to say?"

She smiles, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's time for some fun."

You groan.

"Oh, come on! You used to love fun. Every day you were off on some little adventure and every night you were dancing in the living room of one godforsaken frat house or another," Megan says, giving you a pitiful look. "I can't let you sit here any longer, lovey. I just can't."

A long sigh escapes you as you look up at your friend. You remember when you first met her at freshman orientation, standing there shy and meek with a mint green sweater on. When everyone broke off into groups to eat lunch, you'd both been left in the courtyard alone to fend for yourselves. You'd eaten lunch with her every day since then for the last two and a half years. And you’d both changed a considerable amount in that time.

"Fine," you finally grumble, watching her pleading look turn to a satisfied grin.

"Good. Let's make you hot again," she says, running to the closet and flinging the door open.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN!?"

~

Staring up at the familiar old house, you feel your heart speed up. You didn't realize how quickly you'd fallen out of practice. Every weekend you used to make a stop here, claiming the reason for your frequent visiting was that you liked the star projector they’d set up in the living room.

And you did like it.

It made him look even prettier.

You shake your head rapidly in an attempt to silence the thought. It’s useless now that you know what kind of a person Matthew Seok really is.

"Hey. Don't be nervous," Megan says, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it. "He's not here, babe. He went home this weekend. I still don’t really know what you’re deal with him is, but I checked for you anyway.”

Already you feel your shoulders relax. Of course he's not here. Megan wouldn't bring you here if he was.

You look hot for nothing.

Your hands fly to your head in exasperation at the sound of the intrusive thought.

"You've got this, (y/n). You're still the reigning star here, you know. All anybody ever asks me is when you're coming out again," Megan says with a convincing grin.

You bite your lip and smile. "I guess I can give the people what they want."

"That's the spirit babe!" She exclaims, dragging you up the front steps and to the door. A tall guy opens it and walks out at the same time you and Megan approach.

"OH SHIT! Tiny Dancer is back!" Johnny shouts, his hand flying out to take yours. "Fucking missed you, dude."

You smile, shaking his hand. "I've just been really busy the past few weeks."

"Well, it's a special night then. Drink up!" Johnny says, pulling a beer from his pocket and handing it to you.

"Thanks," you say, popping the top and taking a sip as you and Megan walk through the door and into the frat house. The lights are all off, the house only illuminated by LED light strips, a disco ball, and your favorite star projector.

"YOOOOO! Tiny Fucking Dancer!" You hear someone shout from across the room and feel the blush creep onto your cheeks. You're too sober for this attention after being away from it for over a month. Megan pulls you into the living room as a bunch of intoxicated partygoers rush over to greet you.

"Where've you been!?" Brian asks, patting you on the back. “There’s been a distinct lack of uninhibited dancing in our house this month.”

"I've just had a lot going on recently," you reply as nonchalantly as possible, trying your best to keep up with all the hugs and the questions. You were starting to feel overwhelmed, looking around the room for a place to sit so you could breathe for a second.

That's when you spot him.

Wide eyes meeting yours, lips slightly parted in the way they always were when you used to catch him staring.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you're frozen in place. He doesn't look away. But someone has to.

"Can someone please pour me a ton of shots!?" You shout the request, the crowd around you bubbling with excitement as you migrate with them into the kitchen.

As Brian lines up five shots for you (one for every weekend you've missed), Megan grabs your hand and squeezes it.

"I swear Johnny said he'd be gone. I'm so sorry," she apologizes and you know she means it from the look on her face.

You do your best to shrug it off. "Just do some shots with me."

She squeezes your hand again. "Are you sure?"

You nod, picking up the first glass and knocking it back. Vodka. The liquid stings your throat and you wish you had something other than Johnny's gross warm beer as a chaser. "By the time you start, I'll already be done!"

With that, Megan takes the empty shot glass from your hand and pours it full as she joins you for the next one.

~

You're dancing now.

On a usual night, you were the only one dancing in the middle of the living room floor as people made out, played stupid games, or watched you and giggled.

But when you were drunk, you just didn't care. All you wanted to do was move. A tipsy mind meant a fluid body and you could never turn down the opportunity to completely lose yourself in the shitty music with the base cranked up and the tacky LED light strips on the walls.

But tonight, everyone was dancing. Maybe it was a special night, after all.

Only now does the crowd die out, people gathering in the kitchen for beer pong or going upstairs to hook up (ahem, Megan and Brian). But you couldn't stop even if you wanted to.

"The dance floor missed you."

You freeze. You were so happy you'd almost forgotten he was here.

Almost.

"Can I talk to you?"

You turn around slowly to face him. He's wearing a jean jacket over a white university hoodie and his hair flops boyishly in his eyes. It's like a knife to the heart.

You hate him.

You hate him for making you feel this way.

"I'm busy," you say, biting your lip as you look away.

"I know. I didn't ask you to stop," Matthew replies, the smallest smile tugging at his lips.

You swallow hard at the sight. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Yeah, I've kind of pieced that together," he says, a hand reaching to the back of his neck. "And I understand why."

"Do you?" You ask now, finally meeting his gaze as another wave of liquid courage hits you. "Well that's good news, Matt! I'm so glad that you've come to understand how going out with someone else after you told me you liked me might be upsetting to me. Now, maybe, you can leave me alone forever."

"I didn't.”

You blink back at him in silence. Eventually, you laugh. "Sure you didn't."

"I didn't," he says, sincere eyes locked on yours. "I know Johnny said that I was going out with someone else. But I only told the guys that to get them off my back. They kept hounding me about why I wasn't hooking up with anyone anymore."

Your heart beats so hard that you swear it melded with the base.

"I just really didn't want to tell them how I felt about you. You saw how fast that stupid lie I told spread across campus. They would've ruined everything before it even started."

You nod slowly. "So you ruined it instead."

He sighs despondently and then nods. "I did. I never meant for this to happen. And I'm really sorry."

You just look at him for a few moments. The perfect curve of his annoying lips, the refined angle of his infuriating jawline, the entirely cliche sparkle of his stupid eyes...

And the little star-shaped lights making constellations across his face.

The truth was you hated Matthew Seok.

"Dance with me," you say, stepping back and reveling in the grin on his face as he follows. Wrapping his arms around your waist and moving with you to the rhythm of the music, your lips find their way to his in the glow of the lameass LED lights.

You hated Matthew Seok because he made you want him.

[attleboy]

Why do u draw?

oooooooo [rubs hands together] a fun one that probably isn't that deep but i'm going to take way too seriously!

so the short answer is fun, but i can never just say one sentence and be done with it soooo i elaborated and wrote a whole essay below. sorry not sorry

anyway if you didn't want my origin story no shame in that, it's not gonna be on the quiz, just keep scrolling :P

to cover all my bases let me start from the beginning and work my way forward...

i think pretty much all kids draw at least a little just because they can, but the thing that really inspired me to take art seriously was the great abundance of cat animations on youtube in the early 2010s... warrior cats amvs mostly, but also artists like bani the kitty and splashkittyartist! you can really see these inspirations in my early digital art hehehe (see below by attle b. age 8)

from then until about age 14 art was just... my thing? i did it pretty much everyday, probably couldn't have imagined life without it... i think back then my motivations were more inline with your typical social media artist motivations... get better, be seen, and maybe make a career out of it? never made it that far though because ehhhh life has different plans i guess

i fell into an art slump in the middle of high school for a variety of personal reasons i won't get into, and as such i had to give up my dreams of creating art as a job

as sad as that was in the moment, it forced me to change my outlook on the whole ordeal in a way that i think was ultimately healthier for me.

that brought me to where i am now! since i have no goals beyond keeping at it as a hobby, i do it simply because i enjoy the process, the product, and i feel like it lets me connect with my interests in a way i otherwise couldn't.

it's a fun way to express love for the things i care about, and while i still enjoy honing my skills i don't feel the same pressure to be perfect that i used to which is really freeing!!

so in that sense it's intrinsic motivation that makes me draw what i draw... however, the amount of art i put out and the polish i give it is definitely motivated by the eyes i have on me... while i'd still be drawing the same things if no one was watching, i would not be putting nearly as much effort into it, nor would i be doing it as regularly, so i do thank you guys for keeping me on track there <3

that's it i think? i could get into the philosophy of it, but i'll spare you that... okay thank you for letting me yap!!! ^-^

[deadjam6]

hiii i started making this au a while ago but fnaf slasher au!!

so ull see the designs listed by movie, heres some info on the movies

so the first movie takes place in a carnival, the missing kids are all teenagers, they are just kind of destroying the place yknow. theres supposedly an animatronic hunting and killing them, cassidy is the final girl, she finds out that the animatronic thats killing them all is actually a guy in a costume (william afton.) in a reference to into the pit, shes able to electrocute him and she thinks hes dead

second movie immediately takes place after the first with cassidy going to a police station, this movies plot is kind simple william afton just goes around and murders everyone in the police station until he finds cassidy, but cassidy is actually able to kill him this time and she ends

3rd movie william isn't actually in, it revolves around elizabeth's childhood, william died when she was still young so she basically grew up without him, but y'know how slasher bloodlines all have murders (i love the halloween movies) anyways liz is also a murderer just like her dad, in the beginning of this movie (she is 12) she is put in one of those places jamie and tommy went to in halloween and friday the 13th idk what its called, and that's where she meets charlie (charlie is there cuz she saw henry off himself) liz goes on a murder spree, charlie ends up being the final girl

4th movie starts with liz finding williams grave cuz he was buried exactly like how jason voorhees was and she resurrects him in the same way jason is actually. (william is like off camera this entire time u kinda just see her silhouette doing this stuff) but that was like the intro for the movie, like its not explained AT ALL. but the rest of the movie is about Cassidy, who is older, and has a kid (with cc) and their kid.....is named vanny (smirk) and william being resurrected like awoke her slasher instincts and she ends up killing cassidy. then at the VERY end, cassidy's death is on the news, and it pans out to elizabeth with her zombie dad and she is like, "looks like we have a new recruitment to the family, dad." Then the movie ENDS .

then kind of like saw 3 and 4, the 5th movie takes place at the exact same time as the 4th but its on liz's pov, so you actually see her resurrecting william and see how she kind of has to liek ... tame him, cuz he's like a brainless zombie (he is in his springtrap era) and idk they get into hijinx, the movie ends similar to the 4th movie since they will be watching the news about vannys death probably in this awful disgusting motel 6th movie is about vanny with liz and william idk i haven't thought about it much but they will murder people or smth, aunt liz will try to convince her ot murder people with zombie grandpa

i like put alot of references to slasher movies i like in this au, i mentioned some but not all 😭LOL i hope tumblr enjoys

also other random things, more info about the kids in the first movie

cassidy 17, susie 15, fritz 17, gabriel 19, jeremy 21

gabe and fritz are brothers, jeremy is gabes best friend, cassidy and fritz are besties, susie is there cuz firtz is a bully and peer pressured her into going into an abandoned carnival together, jeremy is like stupid and also brought booze for everyone since he can legally buy alcohol (it was firtz's idea, they did it behind gabes back, he's the more level headed one)

when liz resurrects william, you don't get any dialogue in the 4th movie, but in the 5th you do, and friday the 13th is a real thing in universe, so liz is legit like "wow, how funny would it be if i was able to resurrect my dad exactly how tommy did in friday the 13th part 6" then it actually works

another idea i was playing around with, in reference to sister location, cassidy ends up killing michael thinking he's actually william, if that did happen id imagine itd take place somewhere in the 4th movie

Speaking of the 4th movie, I feel like that movie would be more of a thriller? idk tho, i think the 5th movie would be kind of a horror comedy like bride of chucky

and yes teehee, i have been thinking about what thier perks and stuff would be for a dead by daylight dlc, so far for williams mori i was thinking hed take out one of the charatcer masks (bonnie freddy chica foxy) and slap it on the surviors head after murdering them, and the order he takes them out is the order he killed the kids in the movie, so susie died first, so the first head hed put on a survior would be chicas, so on so forth, and it works cuz there are 4 surviors! and cassidy would be the survior to go along with the dlc, and maybe elizabeth would be a legndary killer skin or something and charlie would be a legendary survior skin

[einsatzzz]

*sliding into your inbox on fuzzy socks, rocking my very own labcoat*

*adjusts glasses*

*whips out clipboard from hammerspace coat pocket*

*clicks pen*

"I HAVE READ THE WIKI AND SOME RANDOM POSTS (which i spam liked) AND I COME BEARING QUESTIONS!!!"

*points pen at Kurumi*

"YOU! You have a sentient, hoverboard great sword! AND IT CAN CHANGE ITS SIZE! That's the coolest shit, literally super hardcore badass, please be my friend so I can watch you smack the shit out of people with your sword. Questions time: How much sentience are we talking about here? Can you get vague feelings from it when you use it or is it just it "chooses its wielder" kind of sentience? How long can you hover? Is there a time limit? Do you ride your sword into battle?"

*strangles urge to ask more sword questions and chooses the next topic/victim aka Yui*

"Heya lab coat buddy! Caused any explosions recently? Set something on fire? Well, never mind that. I've heard you trolled Kurumi by teaching her swear words in foreign languages, which btw nice prank!" *holds up hand for high five* "so ... do you speak these languages fluently? Or did you just look up curse words for the lols? If you do speak them fluently, what languages do you speak? Also, do you have a favourite mechanics project, like is there something you made which you are very fond of?"

*turns to Kana, sees the glare and wisely decides to back off for now*

"Uhhh.... Yeah that's it from me for now!" *quick glance at Kana who's still staring holes into me* "Yes, yes, I'll be on my way BUT! I will come back, just you watch!"

*slinks away into my gremlin cave*

----

Well... that just happened *sweatdrops* I should really come with a warning label at this point with the amount of questions I ask. Take all the time you need, pick it apart however you want and please no pressure to answer all of them, I know I can be a lot lol 😅

*crawls out from under a big rock after temporarily escaping the underground stuDYING jail* Thank you so much for sending this ask Lix! I had lots of fun coming up with how to draw this out 😆😆 It actually became my daily (almost) 30 min drawing exercise so that I don't get too rusty jfhdkdhdjd so it took a while, but here it is now! Also I added a smol Chief last minute in there, but I have a different wip planned for him hehe (with how im struggling rn with studying, prob won't be able to finish till july since I'll be a bit semi-inactive after this post dkgdjdgxjx)

Anyway hope u enjoy! Looking forward to other asks you can come up with and send over to Yuipachi-sensei hehe (they're really really good practice tbh!) This even made me finally draw a design for Kanarobo lmaoo it's inspired from Mi/kuda/yo and Ne/nero/bo actually.

[cubedmango]

hi!! i just wanted to let you know that i started reading cherry magic in july last year after seeing the anime announced on toyota-sensei's twitter! i couldn't even rlly translate the announcement myself without the help of google translate LMAO but her illustration of them looked so sweet i had to snoop around. more than half a year later. i am no longer normal and my brain is fully rotted over and i think of those two nearly every waking moment!! your art, along with so many others feeds me and your translations are So Appreciated thank you for doing gods work. i usually don't get super involved in fandom or w/e other than consuming fanart or fics so the fact i find myself actually drawing them is so new to me...idk cherry magic really is so refreshing and it's just nice as an adult to see a mature relationship between two working adults. there are callbacks to childhood or childlike behaviors or interests sprinkled throughout the manga's dialogue and i always appreciated how they weren't seen as embarrassing or immature to embrace or learn from as an adult, but encouraged or seen as a valuable part of balancing work, life, and love. idk it's def one of the more subtle and less expanded upon parts of it but i love how adachi's and kurosawa's love of manga, though seen as a children's activity (from how kurosawa thought people saw it) was actually one of their first mutual hobbies. it's also interesting to see how many things about kurosawa's psyche are remnants of ideas probably for a lack of better wording, were taught to him from an early age. his self-image, how he tries to uphold certain societal standards, etc etc. im glad he found refuge in adachi that way. im sorry for rambling for so long but i've just been thinking about these two so much ldks

anon pls u never have to apologize for rambling abt my fav guys of all time, u should actually talk w me about them more i want to hear ur thoughts !! the eng speaking fandom isnt that big (or at least i dont get to interact w a lot of ppl personally) but its fun making art and doing the translations for my blorbos so im happy other ppl enjoy it too 🥺

and yess everything u said abt the childlike/immature stuff krdc enjoy like the fact that their interest in manga and stuff is never made fun of or anything (which would be ironic anyway since theyre In a manga themselves fdkjskf) but actually one of the things that gets them closer is So good augh?? (also spoilers for the radio drama if u havent seen it yet, but to me one of the best changes they made was changing the port scenes setting to an anime con instead like Yeah!! theyre little nerd guys of course theyd attend a con!!!! that plus how they both like watching animated movies and playing games too like its a very specific thing to Me but that relatability w stuff i do myself makes them both feel a lot more human? if that makes sense)

also w kurosawas whole deal its Definitely a longterm thing hes had for a while, and in canon its mostly been his friendships/relationships that affected him (probs the most clear in ch45 my beloved) but from the way the meeting w his parents went theres for sure a lot of parental/family pressure involved too?? this is going into hc territory but i have like a whole Thing brewing in my head about kurosawas and maris relations w their parents and how that affected their self image and all growing up too and i rlly wanna make stuff for it someday (idk if anyone would be interested but id probably do it regardless so fkdjksjfk)

[angelpuns]

NEW UPDATE TO THE FAMILY ARC!!! Lil Leo is such a menace, I love him! Mikey, the boy! I love that he comforts Leo so much- he's such a sweetheart, my brain is fucky so I ain't gonna get into the cool emotional stuff rn but it will happen eventually- they are so cute, I love them- I adore this arc so much dude! Enjoy ur water, take a walk if u can (ngl for me going outside makes me feel like 3x better than usual lol-) also HOW DID MIKEY NOT NOTICE HE WAS EATING SHAMPOO-??? THAT STUFF TASTES HORRIBLE! But anyway more virtual highfives for u <3

He truly is such a little menace, we love to see it <3

I love watching him give his brothers a run for their money its so funny to me hehehehe

I'm glad you're enjoying the arc, don't feel pressured to analyze every single update, I've been posting a lot <333 make sure to get lots of rest!!

Mikey absolutely noticed that it tasted terrible, but he honestly just ate it because he figured Leo was being genuine and he would have been sad if Mikey didn't finish it ( he's so silly for that and such a good brother )

VIRTUAL HIGHFIVEEE

[hibernationsuit-remade]

🧥🌵🪹🍄🎤🏡🌃🏳️ + toby!! :]

AAAA THANK U!!!!!

another oc emoji ask game

🧥 COAT: What’s their style like? Do they put a lot of effort into what they wear?

Tobias always goes comfort first whenever he chooses his clothes & shoes! He dislikes everything that is fitted (excluding some turtlenecks) and prefers oversized clothes all the time. His favorites are sweaters, turtlenecks and collared shirts, but he also has two hoodies he wears every now and then. Most of his pants are high-waisted, and he enjoys tapered or straight pants, but could also use wide leg ones. He also likes joggers, specifically the ones that could fall under the smart casual category. Toby dislikes jeans very much and feels uncomfortable in them ajdjjfkfkfk

He has a few fits he uses as loungewear and it's usually some light green/grey/brown shirts and shorts. His pajamas are usually just short sleeved big shirt and shorts.

He's not really into accessories and if he ever picks something it's some warm scarf or sunglasses, depending on the need + the weather. Toby has a beige tote bag with yellow leather bottom, and he also embroidered small stars on it at some point. They shine a little in direct sunlight :]

Toby really likes long trench coats and has a dark grey one. He also has a duffle coat for more colder weather. In other situations that require a coat, he mostly uses his leather jacket.

I should also note that he also wears Klara's clothes every now and then :^)

rest under read more:

🌵 CACTUS: What are some reasons someone might not like them? What are their personality flaws?

Toby's overly optimistic, cheerful and may act too naive or hopeful in bad situations which tends to annoy people. He's also not afraid of saying his opinions and telling someone that he thinks they were rude or did something bad.

His preferences for justice and ethics has also closed many doors in front of him bc people simply don't want to deal w him and his complaints NNFNFBCBC

His other personality flaws include great amount of people pleasing (it's Bad) and being somewhat disorganized and prone to procrastination.

🪹 EMPTY NEST: When did they move out of their family home, if ever? What was the relationship with their family like?

When he was 17!!! He was in his senior year of bachelor's degree and basically presented his theory about this one specific miracle drug idea that could be used in emergencies with life threating injuries, and this one corporation was like "hey what a cool idea come work in our lab to see if it works and also get a doctorate at the same time" and Toby was like "okay yay". WELL his mom was like "Um no you are going to med school" and so they have this big argument where he just basically says how tired he is of his parents controlling his life and doing big choices for him all the time, and his mom is all like "i mean if you don't want to aim high to be a cool doctor then you're not a part of family" to try and pressure him into agreeing, and instead he was like "well okay" and just left. He then reached out to the corporation abt the job and went to work there for a few years. He did get his doctorate and the top surgery & hrt they promised as an employee benefit but, oh boy, at what cost.

ANYWAY ENOUGH ABOUT THAT! Let's talk about Tobias and his family. His mom (Claudia) and dad (Oliver) are both doctors who met and married during med school. When Toby was 6, they divorced bc of several reasons, which was kinda bad for Toby bc unlike his Claudia, Oliver was always chill and supportive. Claudia then remarried with a guy she was seeing even before the divorce, also a med school guy who was studying with her on the surgeon specialization thing or whatever it's called. This guy really didn't care about Tobias other than, like, watching after him when his mom wasn't home.

Claudia is a very demanding person and always tends to think that everyone should aim high and not doing so bad. But she also had this dream of becoming a famous figure skater and since that did not work out for her, she chose to make little Toby into one. And so, Toby ended up going to figure skating classes five times a week, and studying all the other free time he had since he 1) started early and 2) got to skip like four school years bc of his skills and knowledge. Basically everything that was happening in his life was his mom's decisions and honestly he did not like that at all but hey, what can you do?

She also constantly demanded him to do his best in basically everything and got really upset if he got an average/a bit better than average grade, and honestly even the best grades weren't really enough for her :/

Once he got into the Skating Accident (tm) when he was 15, thanks to Frank, and managed to get his ass out of figure skating field, his mom basically sent him to university since he now had "more time to study" (which Toby would've rather used for fun hobbies, of, you know, finally getting friends). And sooooo Toby was kinda living alone on campus and visited his home every now and then. Then when he graduated the whole argument happened and he just, well, left.

Basically, to sum up: he really dislikes his mother and doesn't really care about his stepfather bc he doesn't care about Tobias either. He hasn't talked to them ever since he left and is quite content with that.

As for Oliver? Claudia cut all the ties to him and Tobias basically never saw him again, at least until he was 40. Toby got into a really bad emergency situation bc of his last Earth job and corporate sent special emergency medics (let's be honest they sent it only bc Toby is Klara's husband) who always have a anesthesiology specialist with them. Who was the specialist that time, you ask? Oliver. What a fun family reunion haha

ANYWAY they are slowly catching up with all the years they haven't seen each other, and Tobias is kinda happy.

🍄 MUSHROOM: Would they ever experiment with psychedelics? How would it affect them?

LMAO long hair era Toby definitely did try them at least once or twice? I don't think he remembers that much from it bc he barely remembers anything from that time due to all other substances he took, but I'd say he probably didn't have any strong effects and propbably just passed out.

🎤 MICROPHONE: What does their voice sound like? Do they have a notable accent? Can they sing, and if so, what would they sing at a karaoke night?

OOOOOH I think I never mentioned it but I actually picked a voiceclaim for Toby! It's T. J. Thyne, specifically the way he voices Morlund in Horizon: Forbidden West :3

He doesn't really have a specific accent but he definitely uses tons of filler words and kinda mixes up words quite often, and sometimes ends up freezing while talking to think of the right word or remember what word he is supposed to. Life of a stressed multilingual dumbass.

Fun fact: Tobias would Never go to karaoke, he does Not like singing, especially in front of others. That said, if he was forced to, or, well, let's say he hypothetically agrees, then he would probably choose some song he knows he's able to sing and which he knows very well. If he lived in a modern world he would probably pick Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

🏡 HOUSE WITH GARDEN: Where do they live? Do they have a house to themselves or do they live with somebody, or something else?

He lives in an apartment!!! He prefers apartments so much more than living in a house (his childhood home was a two floor house and god he hated it soooo much for some reason).

Back when Toby was living alone, he usually went for small studio-like flats bc he likes to have an open space. Now that they live with Klara they have (read: rent bc no one w their salary can afford own apartment 😳) a loft.

i swear once i get my paperlike and apple pencil for my new ipad the apartment plans are the second thing i'm going to draw after klara's ref sheets for art fight

🌃 NIGHT WITH STARS: Do they like the night life? Do they go clubbing or to bars?

you know how i mentioned how he got into the corpo lab worker life when he was 17. i know people would go 'he should be at the club' but alas he started going clubbing once he was 19 LMAO Long hair era Toby was a club guy and also kinda a one night stand guy bc he desperately needed to feel loved and his a bit fucked up brain was somehow telling him that being fucked is definitely the same thing. ANYWAY. Since Tobias doesn't drink alcohol he kinda was the guy who everyone thought would probably drive them home since he didn't drink but no, he doesn't know how to drive (he even sucks at driving bicycles).

Once Toby gets out of his long hair era (when he is 23) and finally starts his master's degree in another university as a "new page", he doesn't really go clubbing anymore but instead goes to student events every now and then and also starts joining the organizational teams bc he realizes that organizing events is definitely funnier than attending them.

🏳️ WHITE FLAG: What is their breaking point? When do they feel like they have to give up, if ever?

Toby can go really far in things, and frankly doesn't really care that much about something happening to him (i mean, he does start caring later and starts to take it easy but lmao he is still kinda bad at it), BUT if he realizes that something will mean that doing something will put others in bad situations or danger or anything, then he will definitely stop and give up.