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#but other people are getting screwed for the shit I usually get screwed for
evil-hat · 1 year
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i've been annoyed by my math teacher for a little bit because he just keeps demonstrating time and time again that he can't see any viewpoint but his own. It's just a bunch of little things, the most recent of which was that someone was sitting in the one spinny chair in class and he told them to move because the chair would distract them. And like last class I was way more driven and focused than usual because I was sitting in the spinny chair and able to Move more and get my shimmies out. Anyway writing it out now it feels kind of silly, I just get really irked by small things like this
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milkweedman · 2 years
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I had another pain management setup appointment this morning, this time with a physical therapist, and she was asking me about my flare ups and everything and i came to the realizations that 1) theres always a bit of a leadup to the flare, where i'll have a couple days where i feel like shit and my joints feel hot and weak but its also nowhere near the pain levels of an actual flare up. And 2) i am in fact in a pre-flare up right now :/
All this to say that im warping another belt but im not trying backstrap again right now because i can already tell im going to feel like death tomorrow
#the two pain management specialists ive seen so far have been really great which makes me hopeful that ill actually. yknow. get treatment.#of course it could be that the actual medication prescribing doctor is an idiot and asshole in which case i am course screwed#you really never know#have my first appointment with him in a week though#but yeah yesterday was way too much. and it wasnt even that much by anyone else's standards#or at least my coworkers seemed fine. but it definitely jumpstarted a flare up#just always a bit strange to actually. awknowledge that im in pain and theres something wrong#and downright insane to have someone be like 'yeah dude thats not right lets see if we can fix it'#bc i was dealing w a lot of this joint shit as a kid too but if i said anything my parents would get furious about me#'trying to get out of school by faking sick'#didnt matter if the problem was that my feet hurt bc my shoes were always too small hand me downs (an easily fixable issue)#or if i had sprained my ankle for the 10th time that month because there is something fundamentally wrong with my joints#they would just completely refuse to listen or help in any way and usually punish me for asking#so.... the experience of having someone ask me about my pain. listen. believe me. and start talking about what we can try to ameliorate it#is uh. somewhat novel. and also a lot.#chronic illness#im also still expecting someone to be like 'hey so this program is actually for people who are REALLY in pain and you dont qualify#because youre not that bad'#but nobody has said that yet which on the one hand. yay treatment (hopefully)#but on the other hand. when im not actively in a flare up or going into one i am always at least 80% convinced that im making it all up#or that im blowing it out of proportion or something#which also serves to stop me from spiralling 24/7 into health anxiety ocd doom#so with that barrier temporarily removed bc a specialist was nice to me i am now free to spiral#which. i am#should probably just start weaving before i go insane etc
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un-pearable · 2 years
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for the audience of exactly one who knows about it. thinking about the heart & soul au
#baby’s first actually developed and worldbuilt au… miss u#the writing was. not great. but for my first foray into an attempted extended au it’s dear to me#it’s a roleswap spirit tracks au where they have their usual backstories but link gets ghosted instead of zelda#and then zelda pretends to be link for the rest of the game#causing MUCH strife and misunderstandings.#anyway. point is i’m very much thinking about it and could def do it a much better service now than in 2019#and i miss them <3 two stubbornest gremlins on the planet. one of whom is pissed that the other stole his identity and the other having both#multiple identity crises (including Oh Shit People Think I’m a Dude?) and is slowly becoming aware of a king and complicated conspiracy that#*LONG AND COMPLICATED screw u auto#has been working under her nose for her entire life and is coming to terms with the fact that she was. functionally useless and shit kinda#sucks. and also monarchy bad and train unions good#the appeal lies in that heart(zelda) sucks. so much. she has so many problems and no personal reflection. meanwhile soul(link) just wanted t#o get promoted and drive his train and he’s all out of A BODY TO DRIVE HIS TRAIN WITH#god i miss spirit tracks in general tbh#anyway i’m waxing nostalgia bc. leg hurtie. had a long busy but fun day bc family bday but also Extremelg tired and now in pain#so old aus :]#also. wanna make more movie tails n knux content that’s the priority for tomorrow#so uh. yeah#if you actually read this i am kissing you on the forehead tysm. have a lovely day#text✨
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lovebugism · 3 months
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soooo eddie hears or reads somewhere that birthmarks are where your lover from a past life used to kiss you
and as soon as he gets home he wants to make sure that in this present life r still feel this love and that the birthmarks remain the same until their next life together (ugh so cute 🥺)
i changed this up a wee bit but i hope u like it!! — you and eddie kiss birthmarks on the other for the next life (established relationship, fluff, 0.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie traces shapes on your bare back, a post-sex ritual of sorts. It starts out innocent, usually — tiny hearts and flowers and planets that you try hard to guess. It almost always ends with him signing penises onto your spine and laughing out loud every time you realize.
He’s doing it mindlessly now. Touching you just to touch you. His finger trails up your back, circles over your shoulder blades, and then falls back down again. “Did you know you have a birthmark here?” he wonders, breaking the honeyed silence of his tiny bedroom.
Your brows furrow as he traces some sort of outline between your shoulder and spine. “Do I?” you murmur, muffled into the pillow.
“I think so. It’s really faint.”
“Maybe it’s just dirt,” you joke quietly. You don’t see Eddie pull his hand away to lick his finger, but you feel the wet touch of it when it swipes over your back. “Ew, Eddie!” you shout.
“It’s not dirt,” he confirms, choking back a laugh.
“I’ve ever noticed it, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that hard back there. Like, ever.”
Eddie scoffs, almost in disbelief. “That’s a shame…” he murmurs. 
His finger is gentle and featherlight as it trails down your bare back, leaving chill bumps in its wake. His hand dips below the sheets covering the bottom half of you. His palm spreads unabashedly over your ass, wide and warm. 
“…’Cause there’s a real nice view back here.”
You lift a heavy hand to swat at the boy beside you. It collides halfheartedly with his shoulder. He laughs again. “What?! I’m talking about the birthmark, babe! It’s cute— I love noticing new things about you.”
“Don’t people say that’s how you died in a past life? Wherever your birthmark is?”
Your tired eyes open to find Eddie’s screwed-up face. “Does that mean someone stabbed me in the ass? In, like, the middle ages or some shit? ‘Cause that’s a fucking gnarly way to go.”
“Better than being stabbed in the back… Literally.”
Eddie settles next to you with a huff. He lays on his stomach and shoves half his face into the pillow next to yours, all but melting into the mattress. He keeps tracing the mark on your back with an absentminded touch, never anything but gentle with you.
“Wanna know what I heard?” he mumbles.
“Hm?”
“I heard that birthmarks are where your lover used to kiss you— you know, in a past life or whatever,” he confesses, like it’s a deeply held secret. Then he shrugs his milky white shoulders. “That’s what my mom used to say, anyway. And that woman was never wrong.”
You smile quietly to yourself. Eddie doesn’t talk about his mom very often. You feel a special privilege to be hearing about her now.
“I believe it,” you hum.
His contented grin blooms into something wider and more boyish. “That means someone might’ve been kissing my ass in a past life.”
“That’s awful,” you grumble with a scrunched nose. “Now, I have to give you a new one.”
“Choose wisely, princess,” Eddie lilts and turns onto his back. He spreads his arms out wide and beams when you lean over him. “My future depends on it.”
You don’t think very long. Maybe a moment or more. You press your lips to his chest, just below the faded tattoo on his pec and right over his beating heart. You smile when you pull away, all giddy like a teenage girl, and lay back down again.
Eddie’s chest sparkles with so much adoration it hurts. He laughs it off anyway. “Alright, cheeseball— It’s my turn.”
“You have to do it in the same place!” you argue in a tiny voice when the boy lays over you. He props his weight on his elbows and entwines his legs with yours. The heavy closeness feels like heaven.
“Why?”
“So we’ll have matching birthmarks! And then, when we’re in the next life or whatever, and we look like totally different people, we’ll know we loved each other.”
Eddie scoffs. “I’ll know.”
“How?”
“How will I know that I loved you?” he repeats, like the answer’s obvious and far too silly to ponder. You nod, and he shrugs. “‘Cause I have to. I can’t help it.”
Something warm blooms behind your ribcage. “And I’m the cheesy one?” you tease with a big, girlish grin.
“It’s your fault. You bring the worst outta me, honey.”
You laugh when he drops his head to your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart and lingering there. You pray it stains forever.
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miguelhugger2099 · 1 month
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God, I can imagine the situation with Punk! Miguel when he became a father. It’s just that he can literally get a drawing of his daughter on his body, and it will look like some kind of blot, but he will be literally proud of this tattoo, just like a tattoo that is a print his daughter's finger.
But here's the situation. Let’s imagine that some person looks at Miguel’s tattoo and says, “What kind of weakling can give you the number of the artist who will cover it up?” Miguel is literally torn to strike the person opposite but then says “This is my daughter’s drawing”
Punk Dad!Miguel with his family out on the beach.
Punk Dad!Miguel with his two favorite girls: his wife in a cute baby blue lacy bikini and his little girl in an adorable pink tankini with flowers.
Punk Dad!Miguel who looks out of place with his bright sunshine girls while he’s covered in tatts and piercings, tall and strong and very clearly watching out for the two most important people in his life.
Punk Dad!Miguel who keeps an eye on you two while you play with Gabriella in the water. His shades covering his sensitive eyes while he sips on a coca cola under the umbrella, legs spread apart comfortably.
Punk Dad!Miguel who groans internally when the father beside him tries to talk to him again. A family of four where his wife is also juggling with two toddlers. The husband? Sitting on his ass.
“Gotta say man, I wish I could do all that but my wife, y’know how it is.” He chuckles.
“No, I don’t.” Miguel says plainly. He loves his wife.
The man takes a closer look at Miguel arm and snorts. “What the hell is that?” He points to a small flower bouquet that wrapped around his bicep. The bouquet was terribly drawn, stems thick and uneven, petals that varied from round to sharp, colors blended in like it was done with crayon. It was a stark difference to the other well done pieces around his body.
“Now what asshole decided to screw you over that badly?” He cackles. “Oh, man you have got to get that shit covered up.”
Punk Dad!Miguel who chugs the last drop of his soda and smashes the can in his grip. His brows are hard and lips holding back a snarl. He turns to the man slowly.
“My daughter drew it.” He hisses, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose bridge to hide the rage burning in his eyes.
The man gulps. “Oh…I’m—I didn’t mean—“ He’s luckily saved by Miguel’s little girl calling out to him. “Papi! Papi!”
Gabriella struggles to march up the hill of sand, quickly hurrying in the shade to protect her feet from the scorching hot ground. She falls on the towel on her stomach and grin up at him, her hair more curled than usual and drenched from the sea water.
Punk Dad!Miguel who melts and instantly forgets about whatever he was angry at. “Hi Gabi.” He smiles.
Gabriella lifts herself on her knees. “Hi.” She giggles. “Mami said to call you because I wanted to go deeper in the water but Mami said that you know how to swim better.” She recounts her story to him and you slowly come up behind. You sit on the towel with a huff, your hair equally drenched from Gabriella’s play.
He knows you’re just tired and it’s time to switch shifts. He tosses the crushed can inside the cooler of the husband next to him and picks Gabriella up, placing her on his shoulders. “Okay, mija! Let’s go!” Gabriella squeals, lifting her arms high in the air.
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cutielando · 6 months
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lucky number 100 ~ lando norris
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Summary: Lando finally gets the win he deserves in his 100th race.
Word count: 1.2k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
100 races.
If someone had told you that you would be with Lando and see his 100th race with McLaren, you would've probably laughed in their face.
You and Lando have been together for years, you being by his side ever since he started his racing career. You had never missed a race, not a weekend went by when you weren't seen on the paddock proudly wearing your boyfriend's number on your back.
With the COTA Grand Prix coming up, it also being Lando's 100th race in Formula 1, it was safe to say he was more nervous than he usually was.
That is precisely the reason why it was 1 in the morning before race day and Lando couldn't get himself to go to sleep. Thoughts plaguing his mind, all sorts of scenarios regarding the race going through his head.
You had fallen asleep earlier that evening, having been exhausted by the qualifying and everything. However, you woke up a little past 1, stretching your arm over Lando's side of the bed in search for his warmth but you were met with the cold sheets, making you frown.
"Honey?" you called out, rubbing your eyes and waiting for a response.
When you couldn't hear anything, you pulled the covers off your body and took Lando's hoodie that had been discarded on the floor and pulled it over your head.
You opened the door to your bedroom and walked out, quietly searching for your boyfriend in the middle of the night.
You found him sitting on the couch in your living room, watching TV with the volume down with a lost look in his eye.
"Baby, what are you doing up? You need to get some sleep before tomorrow" you said, making your way over to him and sitting down next to him, snuggling up in his arms.
"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. Kept fidgeting so I decided to come out here so I wouldn't wake you up" he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed your temple, savoring the feeling of your body snuggled up to his.
"What's got you worked up?" you whispered, trailing one of your hands up and down his chest, knowing it was one of the things that helped calm him down in any situation.
"The race, I guess" he shrugged, not being able to really pinpoint the trouble himself.
"What about the race?" you pushed, knowing he had to get whatever it was off his chest.
"I don't know, I just feel like everybody expects me to win because it's my 100th race and everyone will be disappointed if that doesn't happen and I'll let everyone down"
You nodded your head, understanding now where he was coming from.
A lot of his fans and people in the F1 business are constantly talking about him winning this race, how amazing it would be if he did it and how it has been long overdue, which obviously puts a tremendous amount of stress on him.
If he does deliver, he's going to be on top of the world. But if he doesn't, people are going to judge, they're going to talk shit and judge him.
"You don't have to listen to anyone. Screw what other people are saying, you don't need to put this pressure on yourself. Just drive how you know you can and let the result be whatever it may be. I'm still going to be proud of you, regardless if you end up being P1 or P20, baby" you raised your head and took his chin in your hands, making him look at you.
"You're not going to be disappointed if I don't win?" his voice was so soft and vulnerable, it made your heart break at the thought of possibly being anything but proud of him.
"Baby, no. I'll be proud of you if you finish first and I'll be proud of you if you finish last. That doesn't matter to me. All that I care about is that you are safe and come back to me in one piece. I love you, and I'm always going to support you in everything, but you need to stop letting these things get to you. You know what you're capable of, put that talent to use and have fun"
He sighed but a small smile made its way on his lips before he slowly nodded his head.
"You always know what to say, one of the many reasons why I love you" he leaned in and pecked your lips, bringing you into an even tighter hug afterwards.
"I should consider switching my job as a full-time wag to being a motivational speaker" you joked, enjoying the sound of his laugh filling the room.
♡♡♡♡♡
"10 minutes to go" Lando's engineer said as he poked his head in his driver's room where the two of you were hanging out.
Lando nodded and his engineer left, leaving the two of you alone again.
"This is it" he spoke up, looking at his hands which were fidgeting on his lap.
You took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers with his in order to calm him down.
"Remember, don't push yourself too hard and risk crashing or getting hurt. It's not worth it. You'll get your win, baby, but don't push it today if it's not meant to be. Be safe, please"  
Lando nodded and gave you a reassuring smile, kissing you deeply after you stopped talking.
You squeezed his hand as you pulled away and stood up, motioning that you should get going.
You walked with him until you got to his car, giving him one final kiss before he got into the car and put his helmet on.
Lando's engineer motioned for you to join him, giving you a pair of headphones so you could be up to date with everything happening.
You all watched the formation lap before every driver got into their respective positions. You held your breath as you saw the lights before it was time to finally begin the race.
Lights out.
♡♡♡♡♡
He did it.
He had won first ever race in F1. 
You couldn't explain the pride and love that filled your heart when he was the first one to see the checkered flag.
He had absolutely dominated the whole race, managing to overtake every single car on the track and maintaining his position when it seemed that he might be under attack.
You don't think you had ever seen him drive better than he did today.
"Y/N! I did it!!!" he shouted as he ran to you, helmet and balaclava already off.
"I'm so proud of you, baby!!" you squealed and jumped into his arms, squeezing him like never before.
"Oh my God, I did it, my love. This is all for you" he exclaimed, holding you tightly and squeezing your waist.
"No, Lando. This is for you. You've been waiting your whole life for this, you've worked so hard all these years and today everything finally paid off. I'm proud of you to the moon and back, baby" you pulled away from the hug just enough so you could lean in and kiss him, pouring every single feeling of pride and adoration for him into the kiss.
"I love you so much" he muttered against your lips, refusing to let go of you when his PR manager called him for some interviews.
"I love you too, my winner"
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house-of-lovin · 1 year
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legally binded
Jenna Ortega x F!Reader
masterlist | next part
Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.
Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)
Note: Wrote a quick one, I don't usually write about real people so (this is all fiction, don't take it seriously) Can you tell I'm procrastinating on my other WIPs.
Word Count: 2.1k+
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“Blacking out at a strip club in Vegas, are you fucking serious?”
Jake, your manager’s voice thunders around the office. 
You sink lower into the armchair, casting your eyes down – ashamed. From your peripheral, you can see Jake pacing up and down behind his desk and yanking at his tie; roughing up his usually neat-suited appearance. 
“Is it bad?” You gather the courage to ask.
There was a lot of shit that Jake lets you get away with. He’s known since you were a young teen with starry-eyed dreams. Except, your dreams did come true. You were living it, working with respected directors and actors on prestigious sets and projects; it was a shot in the dark that you would ever become a working actor much less a critically-acclaimed one but Jake took a chance on you.
But no one had warned you just how much you had to give up in order to keep succeeding at your dream. Work breeds more work, is that what they say?
Well if that’s the case, it certainly felt like it. Since your first big break, you haven’t stopped working. Seemingly flying to every crevice of the Earth to show face at yet another event they had scheduled on your calendar. 
You could barely name the day of the week.
Being in your teens in the public eye was not easy and it hasn’t gotten any easier as you entered your 20s. So they can sue you for trying to have some fun for once in your life. Granted, you may have gone overboard with it… that much you can own up to.
“Is it bad?” He scoffs, reiterating your question in a mocking tone and if it were anyone else you wouldn’t have been able to stave off your annoyance. “Try the end of times… you got locked up in jail. For possession of coke. You can imagine the headlines.”
You wince, clamping your eyes shut. Yeah, that is bad. “It wasn’t mine! It was–”
“Oh, I know whose it was!” Abruptly stopping, he swipes a finger in your direction shutting you up. “You and your little boy-toy can say goodbye to each other ‘til Liv and I fix this goddamn mess.”
“I didn’t know he had it on him, Jake. And he’s not my boy toy.” Your nose screws up in disgust. 
“It doesn’t matter anymore. The media caught wind of your weekend away in Vegas with that singer. Did you really think no one would recognize you with a famous musician in a strip club? They have pictures of you in cuffs, Y/N – you’re lucky you didn’t get pressed with charges for drug possession.” 
You hear the tired disappointment in Jake’s voice and feel guilt crawl around in your chest. No words seem to be good enough to fix the mess you created so you stay silent. You can add this to the list of headlines he has had to clean up recently. You keep your head down, like a petulant child called into the principal’s office – which in this situation, was an accurate comparison.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Y/N.” A higher-pitched voice echoes behind you and theoretically, if it were physically possible to pass through atoms, you’d be 6-feet under the Earth’s crust.
Far, far away from Liv.
“I already gave her the talk, Liv. We haven’t got the time. What’s the plan to fix this?” Jake crosses his arms, one elbow propped to hold his heavy head up. The bags under his eyes were a clear indication that like you, he also hasn’t slept since he bailed you out of Clark County Jail – a mere 10 hours ago.
All you knew is that you were waking up in a cold, dingy cell with a nasty hangover and an officer shouting from behind steel bars that someone had posted bail for you. Next thing you knew, you were being escorted out the side entrance of the building and into a blacked-out Escalade then driven to a private tarmac where a jet was waiting to take you back to Los Angeles.
Liv is also someone you accredit your success to. Jake and Liv are partners and often represent clients together. You liked to call them each other’s work husband/wife. Liv is a tough lady, only in her early 30s and already one of the most sought-after PR agents in Hollywood; has a boss-ass bitch attitude and a resting bitch face to match. Where Jake often played the good cop with you, Liv was guaranteed to be the complete opposite. 
Liv rounds the desk, standing beside Jake. She was dressed in business casual clothes but her hair wasn’t done like it usually was – a sign she had rushed over here upon your arrival. Staring you down with a menacing glare before rolling her eyes. “You’re not gonna like it, but I don’t care because we’re way past doing things your way.”
You sit up, a little scared. Liv is not one to mess around with. If she says it’s something you won’t like, you might as well go dig up your own grave. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have an idea as to how to get some heat off your shoulders. Just until the press can find something else to fuss over.” She waves with a hand, furiously typing on her phone.
You and Jake shared a look, waiting for her to continue. 
“Well, are you going to tell us or not?” Jake huffs, throwing his hands in the air. Was he the only one in this damn room that felt like the sky was falling?
A knock interrupts before Liv can respond. “Hold that thought… Come in!” She holds a finger up, shoving her phone in her back pocket. 
You turn around, curiosity getting the better of you. Only, it was Jake’s assistant popping her head in. “Sorry for interrupting, sir. I know you said not to disturb you unless it was urgent.”
Jake runs a tired hand on his face. “Just get to the point, Em.” He says, not unkindly.
“Miss Olivia’s guests are here for the meeting. I was wondering if I can let them in?” The young assistant says timidly. Anyone can feel the thick tension in the room. No doubt she also saw the headlines plastered all over the internet of your face. There was an urgency in her mannerism that told you she wanted out of this conversation as soon as possible.
“Yes, let them in! Don’t make them wait.” She waves frantically. The door closes, leaving the three of you alone for a moment.
“Liv, what is this?” Jake asks before you can.
“Y/N, control your anger and be kind to our guests. This is for you, remember that.” She plasters a large smile with her last words as the door opens; multiple voices can be heard behind you. What the hell does that mean?
“Miss Ortega, great to officially meet you and Sarah, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.” Your head snaps to the side as Liv steps out from behind the desk to greet the people behind you.
The sight has you struck dumb. Why is Wednesday Addams in your manager’s office?
Granted, you know who she is. Who doesn’t? You can barely drive down any highway in L.A. without seeing her face plastered on some sort of billboard or building. But why is she here, in this office?
“Y/N I’d like you to meet Miss Ortega…” You were still rooted in your chair, just staring at them like an idiot. An uptick of a brow is raised as Jenna watches you remain unmoving. 
“Get up.” Jake kicks the back of your chair as he rounds the desk to greet Jenna and her manager, gritting under his breath. You spring up at the thud, rubbing your back in annoyance. 
“Nice to meet you, Miss Ortega.” You extend your hand when she finishes greeting Jake. 
She stood a good few inches under you, dressed casually in loose pants and a hoodie. She had a pair of sunglasses pushing her hair back, which was tied in a messy low bun; headphones around her neck.
You two have never crossed paths in all your years in Tinseltown – which was surprising considering you two are around the same age. There might have been an event or two that you had attended at the same time but you have never had the chance for a formal introduction. It wasn't difficult to see why the whole world was buzzing about Jenna Ortega.
“Just Jenna is fine.” She slides her hand in yours, sending a small, shy smile. The sparks you feel when your palms connect has you flinching almost imperceptibly. You see Jenna’s eyes snapping toward your connected hands telling you she may have felt it too. But before you can think too hard on it, you’re pulling away from her grasp. 
“Let’s all sit down, so we can tell you why you’re both here.”
Jenna takes the armchair to your left, and you fight to keep your sight straight ahead. “There’s no easy way to break the news. But here’s the CliffsNotes version. Over 24 hours ago, Y/N was arrested in Vegas. The press is having a field day, they already have the paps planted outside her house and every location she frequents. Our solution… a PR relationship, just until all of this has died down.”
You stare deadpan at Liv. Out of all the years, you have known her, this has to be the most balls-to-the-wall, bonkers shit she’s ever said to you. 
“What?” A sweet voice piques beside you, voicing out the shock you weren’t able to verbalize.
“A fake relationship, sweetie.” Her manager, Sarah says in a much sweeter tone than Liv could ever muster.
You can see her shake her head from your side eye. “We agreed to no PR stunts like this, Sarah.”
“I know, Jen. But with the recent controversy online… we just think this may be a good look. Liv called me last night and we came up with this plan and thought it couldn’t hurt with both of your situations.” At least her manager sounded apologetic. 
Jenna scoffs, feeling irritated and ambushed. “No offence, but I can handle a few nobodies online. And my situation is nowhere near as bad as hers. If anything how would pairing me up with someone who does drugs be good for my image.”
Your head snaps to her, nearly growling, “Watch it. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She bites back, turning to glare at you. “Is it not the truth?”
“No.”
“We got a drug user and a liar, great.” She mutters under her breath.
“Okay stop! You two don’t have a choice,” Sarah speaks up, sending Jenna a look you didn’t care enough to decipher. 
“Get someone else,” You say to Liv, ignoring everyone else around you. “Literally anyone else, please.” 
Jenna puffs out an incredulous scoff. “Screw you, dude.”
“Screw you too!”
“Jenna!” “Y/N!” The adults of the room shout over one another, chastising you both.
“That’s enough!” Jake shouts, getting you to break your intense glaring at the other actress. Jake’s tone slightly scared you, he was never one to raise his voice. And you knew you were balancing on some very thin and fragile ice with him at the moment. 
“This is the plan and that’s final! Jenna, everyone sees you as America’s sweetheart after the success of Wednesday. As much as it sucks, everyone is watching your next move, personally and professionally. And Y/N, you’ve been in the press for literally all the wrong things this year, and yet, the public can’t get enough of you. It’s good publicity on both sides… So you two will learn to get along – for the sake of both of your careers.” He says with a tone that leaned on threatening and you didn’t have the balls the challenge him on that. 
You had worked too hard for the life you have today just for it to be thrown away by a careless mistake. So if you had to buckle down and act in love with one of the most annoying people you had ever met, in world-record time, then so be it.
“How long…” You mumble, dropping your head in defeat.
“Three months at most. Less the quicker people forget about your night at the county jail.” Liv answers.
“Fine…” You conceded.
A few seconds of silence ring out before she answers, “Fine…”
●●●
Jake and Liv @ Reader:
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I swear there's a SpongeBob meme for everything.
:)
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year
Note
John B screwing his ex to get back at Sarah Cameron for hooking up with Topper, in the boat that they arrived back on, John B not realising that it is a Cameron boat so double win.
On my boat?
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pairing: john b routledge x fem!reader
summary: see above
warnings: unprotected sex, oral, hair pulling, chocking, language. (18+ content)
a/n: as you read you will notice I felt the need of making reader the dominate one.
John B stormed away from the crowd; JJ tried to keep up but decided to let him go off alone. He knew he needed some time alone; no one would have expected Sarah to hook up with Topper.
John B was hurt, they were meant to be married. It was supposed to be, until death do us part. Apparently not for Sarah, she had different ideas.
His knuckles ached from the punches he threw at Topper; he knew topper didn’t try to fight back. He knew he would have been the one on the floor. He’s thankful that he got a few punches in, it helped with the anger that bubbled in his chest.
But he was half wishing Topper had fought back, he wanted to feel some sort of physical pain. It would be a lot easier to handle then this emotional pain he was going through right now.
“Yo John B”
He turned around to see you crossing the street, dressed in short shorts and a white crop. He could see your nipples through the thin material, usually he wouldn’t look but that’s where his eyes landed tonight.
“Eyes up here buddy” you laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. You had just finished work, walking along the kook side of the island. You worked for some fancy schmancy guy, he paid you well for what you did.
Of all the people you didn’t expect to see John B, you hadn’t seen him since he ended things with you and started dating Sarah. You didn’t have any hard feelings towards him, but you did hate Sarah, of course the kook princess would get the hottest pogue on the island.
You kept in touch with the rest of the pogues but with everything going on you hadn’t heard from them in a while, you also didn’t want to be caught up with the shit they were going through. Already having the cops on your back about the weed they found in the backseat of the car you may or may not have stolen.
“Y/N, what are you doing out so late?” John B questioned; you could already tell he was upset. His hair was dishevelled, and you could only guess the wetness on his cheeks where tears.. “Just finished work, you?”.
“Looking for a boat”
“Ooh sounds like another adventure” you winked; he nodded his head but didn’t say anything. Turning his head to look over at the water, boats littered the area.
“That’s the boat your friends came back on” you point, the huge white boat stranded on the side of the island. Well, you assumed stranded, you weren’t aware it was in fact the cameron’s boat.
“How do you know that?” He questioned, he started walking towards the boat. You stood on the spot unsure whether you follow or leave, but your question is answered when he stops and looks at you. “Seen them hop off it the other day”.
You both walk in silence; he helps you aboard the boat and you both look around. Checking to make sure no one was lurking around, every so often. The street lights gave you little light, you reached under a cabinet and grab a torch, walking away from John B you went down the stairs.
It was a large bedroom, the bed unmade. There were wrappers everywhere and empty cans of beer. You assumed the mess was from the pogues and rolled your eyes. “They made quiet the mess”.
John B’s voice made you jump, turning around to see him standing close to you. “Yeah, might need to teach them what a bin is” You laughed, looking up you were met with his chocolate brown eyes.
His skin had a slight burn to it from the deserted island sun, his hair was golden and messy. You quickly looked away when you noticed his eyes dropping to your lips, taking a few steps away you began to walk around the boat.
Rummaging through draws and cupboards until you came across the hidden liquor, pulling out a bottle of tequila. “Shots?”.
You didn’t wait for an answer and took a swig from the bottle, the liquid burning your throat. But you refused to have a coughing fit in front of John B. You could feel his eyes on you, pushing your arm out he grabbed the bottle.
“So, what’s got you down?” you question, you can see him physically wince at the question. Brining the bottle to his lips again and taking a longer gulp, this time he coughs as he swallows the liquid. “Damn, must be bad”.
Your dumfounded, was this chick stupid? She gets John B and runs back to her Douch bag ex? He looked like a foot compared to him.
“She hooked up with Topper”.
“Well shit” You sigh, grabbing the bottle from John B and take another swig. You walk over to the bed and sit crossed leg in the middle. “I have no words to give you friend”.
You really had no words, well you had words, but they were cruel and no doubt he didn’t want to hear about how Sarah was stupid and that you would gladly take him back.
“I don’t want to talk about it, just want to forget” he says, he joins you on the bed. Sitting crossed legged in front of you, reaching his hand out for the bottle. You pass him the glass and watch as he takes a swig, mentally slapping yourself for thirsting over your ex-boyfriend.
“Alright, well want to tell me about the deserted island?” You ask, he shakes his head though. Looking up to meet your eyes, that’s when you catch onto what he wants.
He’s moving himself from his crossed leg position and you find yourself untangling your legs and letting him crawl between them. “Can I kiss you?”.
“Thought you’d never ask”.
You let his lips touch yours, it’s soft and sweet like how it used to be. You don’t want to be like how it used to be, you know that’s exactly how he is with Sarah. So, you grip him by the shirt and flip the both of you over. Moving your legs to straddle him, you put more urgency into your kiss.
You tongue being the one to gain dominance, he let’s you grind yourself on him. Hands running up the length of your thighs until they sat on your hips, guiding you to dry hump against his board shorts. He was shamefully already hard.
“Shit-t when did you get this feisty” John B groans, you bite down on his lower lip pulling it slightly. Your vixen eyes stare up at him through your lashes, you pressed kisses down his jaw, using the palm of your hand to push the side of his face into the mattress and attacking his neck.
You had gotten rather adventurous in the bedroom since things ended with John B, not that they weren’t fun when you where together but now you dominated, and you made the men beg.
“Can I take this off” You mumbled against his skin, your fingers twisting at the buttons his t-shirt. He gives you a grunt of approval, you tear his shirt off and kiss down his chest. Letting your hands wonder over his toned stomach, flashes of old memories pop up in the back of your mind.
“How far do you want to go John B?” You question, your fingers on the waistband of his shorts. You wanted him to fuck you, wanted him to use you to forget her.
John B sit’s up and for a moment you panic he is going to change his mind, instead he grabs the material of your shirt and rips it over your head. His hands pressed against your spine, pulling you close to him. His mouth enveloping your nipple, tugging, and sucking.
You bite back your moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. “I want to be buried deep inside of you” He moans, jutting his up against you. Accidentally letting out a loud whimper, you can feel his lips smirk against your skin.
You push him back down roughly, reaching down between you again and you reach inside his shorts. Wrapping your hand around his length, he sucks in a deep breath presses the palms of his hands into his eyes. You were dripping from his reaction.
You sat to the side of him, pulling his pants down and let him kick them off his ankles. You spread his legs so you could sit between them, holding firmly onto his throbbing cock. He looked down at you, begging you with his chocolate eyes.
“What do you want me to do John B” you purred, you got down to the level of his red tip. Leaving a soft chaste kiss before pulling away, you could see his stomach muscles clenching as he fought the urge to rock his hips up into your face. “Please Y/N”.
“Hmm? What was that?” You questioned, moving your hand softly against his shaft. Giving him just enough friction to edge him on but not enough to stop him from begging. “Y/N, put my cock in your mouth” he demands.
You’re squeezing your thighs together at his bluntness, not used to being told what to do from him. You open your mouth and take him in, you had been working on your deep throating. You were much better then when you had been together. “Holy sh-itt” he gasps, gripping onto the white bed sheets for dear life.
“Hmm” You gurgled around his cock, the vibrations of your mouth sending him into a frenzy. Your nose brushing against his trimmed pubic hair, sliding your hand under you begin to massage his balls, he lets out a strangled moan.
His chest is heaving, and his arms shake as he grips the sheets, you’re watching his face up through your lashes. He finally looks down at you, in that moment you know you have him hooked. He reaches down and grips your hair, rutting his hips up against your face.
You gag slightly from the roughness and your spit begins to drip around his cock, you can feel him twitching inside of your mouth. He is pulling your off him, his cock leaving your mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Sit on my face now”.
You reach down and quickly strip your shorts and panties off, leaving your bare in front of him for the first time in months. “Face down here, ass up here” John B states, he signals for you to do 69. You nod your head and reach over his body, before you can even set yourself up, he reaches around your thighs and bring you down onto his face.
His tongue brushing through your folds, you let out a pornographic moan when the tip of his tongue presses against your bundle of nerves. You weren’t going to let him get his dominance back, instead you pushed your mouth down onto his cock again.
Sucking and swivelling your tongue against him faster than you thought was humanly possible, fingers caressing his balls once more.  He licked and sucked like it was his last meal, pushing two of his fingers inside of you. The vibrations from both your moans had you both tipping over the edge and coming, his warm seed hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed quickly as you came down from your high, your juice coated his face.
You were shocked when he licked his lips, something he had not done before. Before you could even think more into that, he was flipping you onto the bed and leaning over you, His lips on your again, fingers laced around your throat, giving you a soft squeeze.
You stared at each other while you kissed, both your tongue battling for dominance. You used all your strength to push on his chest until you were back on top, straddling him once again. “Buckle up big boy” You whispered, giving him a kiss on the chest.
You reach down between you and grasp his cock, looking up at him for approval he grabs your hips and pushes you down instead of giving you an answer. You moan in sync; your nails dig sharply into his stomach. You begin to rock your hips slowly, enticing him with the cushion of your walls.
He reached up to massage your tits that were squeezed together by your arms, your head thrown back as you road him. His fingers where suddenly around your throat and pulling your down to look at him. “Fuck, seriously how are you so good at this” he moans, his eyes boring into yours.
“Practice honey” You purred, moving your hips a bit rougher. Your ass bouncing against his thighs, you reached down and gripped his throat as well. Giving him a harsher squeeze then what he was doing to you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in delight.
Who would have known John B would like to be chocked out you thought, you let out a soft snicker and his eyes pinged open. “You’re the devil” He states, he wraps his arm around your waist and begins to slide the both of you off the bed.
Walking over towards the seat that ran along the windows that had a view of under the water, fishes looking upon your naked sweaty bodies. He pressed you against the glass, pushing in and out of you at an ungodly speed. Biting down on the skin of your neck, pulling your hand away from his chest he puts your arms above your head and presses them against the window. Your chest and his pressing against each other.
“Harder John B, show me how angry you are” You moan, using your hips to grind into him. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and grips your waist, his speed intensifying. The sound of your wet skins filled the room, the boat felt as though it was swaying.
“Come on John B” You were pushing off him now, pushing him towards the end of the bed. He sat up as you sat back down on him, he wrapped him arms around your waist and let you take control, he was so close to coming, he didn’t have the energy to keep fighting.
“Come on baby, show me what you got” You whispered. Gripping his throat for a second time tonight, pressing your lips to his. Tongues and spit exchanging, both your hips moving in sync as you met each other in the middle, your clit rubbing against his stomach each time. “Yeah, just like that” You cried, dropping your head back and holding onto his shoulders.
He watched your skin glisten with sweat, your perfect perky breasts bouncing with each thrust. He was in another world; he couldn’t hold on anymore. “Y/N” he started, but you squeezed around his throat again to shut him up. “I’m gonna c-”
He didn’t get a chance to warn you as you came first, loud, and fast. Walls squeezing and fluttering around him, causing him to let go and cum inside of you. Both of you moaning and crying out in pleasure, your fingers still wrapped around his throat.
When you finally both caught your breaths and vision, you slid off him. “Well shit John B” you laughed, you began gathering up your clothes, searching for your panties. “More like well shit Y/N, your fiesty” he says, he however doesn’t reach for his clothes and watched you intently.
You turn your head to the door when you hear voices and the door rattles, head snapping back to John B who begins to rush around.
“I told you he would be her--” JJ begins, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees the both of you trying to get dressed quickly, eyes giving you a once over before offering you a wave. You give him a quick wave as he ushers everyone back and closes the door.
“In my fucking boat, John B?” You hear Sarah scream; you give him an apologetic smile and make your way to the door. Pulling it open, Sarah’s eyes meet yours and her eyes widen when she realises, he went to you not some random touron.
“Next time, try this in bed, he Loves it” You purred, wrapping your fingers around her delicate throat. You expect her to grab your arm, but she is too shocked to speak.
giving her a wink before walking away from the group, all eyes on you. You get a sudden rush of euphoria knowing you just fucked her boyfriend on her boat.
Part two
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norrizzandpia · 8 months
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She Doesn’t Know Who I Am (LN4)
Summary: Lando’s in New York and no one knows who he is. Especially the girl who asks for his number.
Warnings: nothing really, the vaguest inference to alcohol consumption? If that, man, but lmk if i missed any ofc
Lando was always weary of the United States. From the intrusive people to the crazed, horrific politics, he always tried to stay away. However, once a year, or season, he had an obligation to make an appearance in one of the fifty maniacal states. This year, the region in which would be graced with his chaotic presence was that of New York.
Y/n was the typical college student, ruthless and stupid as she went through her days at NYU. Crazy parties and a lack of sleep filled her days as she struggled to get through her second to last year in school. While part of her hated the way New York operated and how unsafe she felt, there was nothing like the beauty of the city. Her whole life had been spent in a small town where she felt trapped and alone, but in the big city, she felt a part of something, almost as if she was finally contributing to something. What she was contributing to, she didn’t know, but, in her mind, that didn’t really matter.
What did matter, however, was her friends dragging her out of bed and forcing her to go out with them whilst on two hours of sleep.
“I can get bagels literally any day. Please,” She put her hands in prayer as she pleaded with her best friend, “Paige, let me go back to bed.”
Paige looked back at her as if she had grown three heads, “No way. You go back to bed now, you’ll sleep all day and then be screwed up tomorrow. Then, you’ll complain about your sleep schedule being off and get mad at me for not waking you up. This is a much easier Y/n to deal with, thank you very much.”
Her response seemed to shut Y/n up as she hung her head low and trotted behind her brunette friend.
The walk to the bagel place had been longer than usual as they ran into George, a homeless man who lived at the end of their street and they had come to love. He had been there since the moment they moved in, coming and going as he moved to different places to sleep. After a few years of becoming friends with him, they learned he was a veteran who came back with severe PTSD, and, in turn, had to deal with tumultuous debts for his tries to stop the depressing spiral. While he had successfully gotten over the painful flashbacks, he never came back from the money he owned, the main reason why he ended up on the streets. The girls had found sympathy for the man and whenever he was there, sitting at the end of their block, they gave him fifty dollars each, whether they were struggling with their own financial burdens or not.
His smile had sent them into the rest of their breakfast with happier attitudes as Y/n’s annoyance for being conscious disappeared. However, they returned for the entire duration they spent waiting in the long line in the cramped, stuffy deli. Nonetheless, once she had scarfed down her bagel sandwich and chugged some water, she found life to be much lighter.
Lando, on the other hand, had been wandering around Central Park aimlessly with Max and a few other McLaren PR employees. The group had been out shooting content for both the racing company and his own company, Quadrant. Checking out different sights and throwing middle fingers up when they crossed the Trump building, the two boys found themselves having lots of fun in the country they thought so little of.
“Maybe this shit isn’t that bad?” Max chuckled as they stared at the lake that stretched across the park, a piano sounding lightly behind them from a street performer.
Lando nodded, liking the way no one was recognizing him and he could just be, “Yeah, maybe it’s just the politics that dampens the whole thing.”
“I’ll seriously never get over how stunning it is in here,” Y/n whispered as she and Paige strolled through a particularly secluded area of Central Park.
“Mhm, me neither.” Paige smiled as the two girls cherished the moment together.
Y/n turned her head to catch the brunette’s brown eyes, “Ever think about what would have happened if we never met?”
Paige pulled a look, “Absolutely not. That sounds like hell.”
“You’re not wrong.” Y/n laughed, “But, seriously, like, how would we even be surviving right n-”
Her abrupt stop to her sentence had Paige turning to look at the girl. With Y/n’s jaw dropped and cheeks ablaze, she followed her best friend’s eyeline, stumbling upon two boys who looked about the same age as them.
“Wow.” Y/n said aloud as she stared, mesmerized, at the man.
“Which one are you looking at?” Paige tried to decipher.
“Brown curls,” Y/n responded immediately, allowing her best friend to finally hone in on the boy of her friend’s choosing.
Paige smiled softly as she pictured Y/n with the boy standing in front of them, a cute couple they would be.
“He’s cute. Go ask for his number!��� Paige said excitedly as she pushed Y/n in the direction of the particularly striking young man.
Y/n instantly paled, “What?! No way! Absolutely not!”
“Why?! Y/n, you literally haven’t dated anyone since freshman year. Come on, you’ll never even see him again if he rejects you. Please? For me, at least?” Paige pleaded, giving her best friend a look that she couldn’t turn away.
Huffing, Y/n began walking away, muttering, “The things I do for you.”
Y/n first caught Lando’s eye in his peripheral. The quick flash of y/h/c had him turning around to quickly glance at the newfound presence.
He almost lost his footing at the sight of her.
Black leggings and a sweatshirt never looked so good on someone as she approached him. His eyes were followed by Max, the boy laughing at a Lando who was clearly very taken by the girl coming up to them.
“If she asks to take a picture, I’m going to be so devastated,” Lando whispered as she smiled at them, the sight making him want to melt to the ground and beg her to go out with him.
It dawned on him that he didn’t even know her name yet, but that was a passing thought as she came to stop in front of him.
“Hi,” She stared up at him, clearly nervous, “My friend is forcing me to do this, so don’t think I’m doing this willingly.”
Her next few words Lando was already preparing himself for. Either her sentence could send him into a euphoric orbit or she could crush his dreams by being a fan.
She took a deep breath, Lando smiling at her cute demeanor, before she continued, “I just thought you were really cute and thought that, maybe, I could get your number? My name’s Y/n, by the way.”
Max was quick to jump infront of his lovestruck friend, not trusting the girl’s intentions.
“Sorry, he doesn’t give out his number.” He shot out, Y/n grimacing as she took in the embarrassment.
“Is he a celebrity or something?” She tried to recover with jokes, but it just made the faces of the two boys pale more.
The one that she liked, the one with the soft curls, stepped in front of his friend as he shook his head, “No, no. He’s just overprotective,” He sent his friend a threatening gaze, “I’m Lando and I would love to give you my number.”
Y/n was too caught up in the meaning behind Lando’s look to catch the way he was staring down at her, brown eyes big and round as he shot her a toothy grin. Their eyes met, and she flushed under his stare.
Tucking some hair behind her ear, she quickly got out her phone, “Oh, cool! Here you go.”
Lando’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed in his work phone number, not his personal. While he wanted to trust in her cluelessness, he couldn’t be that reckless.
Sliding her phone back to her in a way that allowed for their fingers to brush against each other, Y/n beamed triumphantly, something Lando knew he was going to grow to love.
She stood there for a few moments before nodding her head and beginning her walk back to her friend, “I’ll call you soon. We’ll figure something out.”
Lando nodded eagerly at her, a sign that he liked her just as much as she liked him. When her figure was a dot in the distance, Max turned to him and smacked him on the chest, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!? You can’t just shovel out your number like that! That was way too dangerous, Lando.”
His stern lecture had Lando rolling his eyes, “Max, two things. 1) I gave her my work phone, and 2) I’m willing to bet my seat in McLaren that she has no clue who I am.”
His best friend shifted on his feet as he looked at him, “You really think so?”
Lando nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen fans try to play it cool, and even then, when they outwardly say they know my favorite flavor of ice cream, I can tell they’re freaking out on the inside. Her nerves seemed more to be the type of just asking a random stranger out rather than meeting her idolized driver.”
Max shook his head, “If you insist.”
Paige smiled proudly at her best friend as they began making their way out of the park, “So, what was his name anyway?”
Y/n thought hard for a moment before guessing, “Land? Lanyard? Something like that. I can’t remember. I was too caught up in his biceps to comprehend anything he was saying to me. I just hope he isn’t a murderer.”
NOTE: lmk if you guys want me to make a part 2 to this where they go out on a few dates and a month in or so she finds out or he tells her (something roughly like that)
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Text
You're Different
Crosshair x Reader
Summary- Ever since Crosshair made a snide comment about leaving a team member to die, you've had a lingering thought. Even though you knew he loved you, doubts rose.
A/N- Crosshair is my favorite clone, but also hard to write. Apologies if he's OOC! Feel free to LMK how I can improve XoXo
Word Count- 995
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"Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved. You're just guilty because you left Echo at the Citatdel. Oh, I don't blame you. I'd have left him for dead too..."
The words sent chills down your spine. You couldn't pinpoint why. Crosshair says rash things all the time. He's always cold and negative, secretly you love it about him. But, leaving a team member- a brother for dead? Just because?
Well... he'd never do that to you, right? Crosshair loves you, you know that. But what was he capable of doing when he put his 'personal feelings' aside?
You came back to reality when Hunter instructed everyone to scout the area, look for a better way up the mountain into the tower.
You hurried in your step to walk next to Crosshair, something he preferred to keep you safer. His hands tightly gripped his rifle, a subtle way, you noticed, to release his anger.
He kept a keen eye for any kind of disturbance, more on edge than usual. You noticed, but was at a loss for how to bring it up. Your doubts clouded you.
'I'd have left him for dead too...' You brought a hand up to tug at your glove nervously. You couldn't even focus on the mission, 'Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved.' You had to clear your head, he wasn't talking about you. He would never.
Your head shot up at the yell of your name, followed by- 'Crosshair, scout the East terrain, we will go West." Hunter commanded.
"Yes, sir." You responded instinctively, Crosshair nodding and turning.
You didn't even notice that Crosshair stopped and waited for you to catch up. You squinted your eyes behind your helmet and pushed back any thoughts.
Everything went smooth for a minute, silence consuming the air. Just the gentle sound of rocks crunching under your feet. It helped you shift your focus back to your surroundings, eyes searching for any intruders or a possible entrance to the tower.
While it was usually a calm and comfortable silence between you two, this was not. The air was thick, and needed cutting. You wondered if he noticed it as well.
"What's wrong with you?" His gravel voice started. He did notice it...
You snapped in his direction, you could practically see his scowl through his helmet.
"Nothing. I'm fine." You continued to walk.
"Stop that, we don't do the whole 'lie' thing." He was right, he always seemed to be. You could hear him fiddling with his rifle, but you didn't turn to look at him.
"Lets just focus on the mission, I wouldn't want my 'personal feelings' to get in the way." You said, picking up your step. You hated the way you jumped to conclusions. Sarcasm drips from your words. Passive aggressiveness was something you and Crosshair shared with many people, but rarely each other.
"Cut the shit." He said, grabbing your forearm. This took you by surprise, but it shouldn't have. He made sure to glance around the area, then took off his helmet.
"What Cross?" You were sour, having been lost in your thoughts.
You took off your helmet as well, then crossed your arms. You challenged him with a look in the eyes.
"It doesn't take my defect to know something is bothering you. We can't let it affect the mission. What is it?" He says fiercely. While he did seem pretty rude and demanding, it was more care then he'd show anyone else.
"So it's just about this mission?" Damn it, why would you say that. Especially after Crosshair was actually trying to find out what was wrong.
He scoffs and leans against a large rock. "Fine, screw up the mission for all I care." He puts a pick in between his teeth, then cocks his rifle. You don't flinch a bit when he shoots a small surveillance droid behind your left shoulder. You keep your eyes trained on his.
"I wouldn't leave you." He says, chewing on the pick, and lowering the rifle.
"Wha-"
"I know when something is bothering you."
"Yeah but, how-" He cuts you off again, stepping close to you. inches away.
"I'm always watching." He says, a smirk present.
You give him a playful smack on the arm, he just laughs. With a sigh the situation becomes serious again.
"Really?" You looked up at him,
"I was just trying to get under Rex skin. You know we don't leave brothers behind." You smiled, bigger than you had all day.
"What if I was a reg?" You say, now pulling at his arm so he was closer.
"But you're not, you're different." He points out, flicking his pick to the ground.
He deeply inhaled through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto yours. You were silent and still after closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.
Suddenly you heard a third parties movement. You dropped into a squat, Crosshair bringing his rifle to balance on your shoulder plate. The two of you worked in perfect unison.
It was just Wrecker.
"What are you two doing?" He asks, dumbfounded on what he walked upon.
"Uhm, nothing. This side's clear." You said, slowly turning around.
Crosshairs rifle was still cocked and ready with his finger on the trigger. Even in the heat of the moment, he was able to defend.
You swallowed, thinking about how attractive he was in that second.
"Hunter needs us back at the cliff. They found a way in." Wrecker says before heading off.
"We're coming." Crosshair says, annoyed.
You turn and smile at him before putting your helmet back on.
He does the same and follows closely behind you.
"Hey," He starts, grabbing your attention. "You can pull that with anyone you want, but next time just tell me. It goes a lot faster that way." Crosshair was sweet and gentle in his own way. He was saying 'I love you.'
"I love you too, Cross."
A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I'm not super proud of this one, I think I rushed it. I love Crosshair sm, but I have no idea how to write him.
Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss
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IM LOVING UR NONHUMAN AU.
Do you think Crowley would be protective of us? Maybe fend off the beasties that try to court us?
That's a cute thought.
Realistically, Crowley is a dick that often leaves the protagonist to fend for their self and pushes them to take care of dangerous stuff that they really shouldn't have to.
But on the other hand…hehe birb dad.
One of the reasons he avoids us is because of the whole us “wanting a way home thing.”
Imagine his surprise when you tell him you would rather stay. Maybe you don't have a family, maybe the family you have is horrible, or maybe it's because our world is a polluted mess with a cruddy economy. Regardless it means he doesn't have to (pretend) to put in the work of sending you home. 
Well, as long as there's a place for you to stay that is. He is sort of your guardian and it would be in the best interest of himself and the entire school if you stayed.
Now a thing I like to think about…this man is likely lonely. I mean, a lot of people don't like the guy. (for good reason) The students and teachers are tired of his shit, though he and Trien seem to be homies and have tea together, the guy’s cat still hates him. Crowley also doesn't have a mate or any hatchlings waiting at home for him.
Combine the guilt trip of having nowhere else to go, add his loneliness, and then butter the guy up. I would say you have a good chance of getting him attached.
Imagine he sees you heading his way and is about to screw off cuz he doesn't want to deal with whatever thing you need to get fixed or have to complain about, you catch the sleeve of his coat before he can, and so he braces himself. But instead of asking him for something or scolding him you simply ask him about his day and how he's doing.
Birdman is shook.
Bit by bit the tasks and chores he gives you are ones where you'll be around him or he’ll randomly pop in to check in on you while doing them. Soon you end up being the preferred person for making and bringing him his tea. He pretends to nap on his office couch while you do his paperwork. May even ask you to help him file his claws on occasion. If it wasn't so dire for you to take care of things at the school he would be half tempted to bring you along on one of his vacations. If you give him anything it's going on his desk and he will brag about it to anyone who enters his office.
His cheap ass isn't going to spoil you but he will bring you small gifts. Usually the random shiny thing and small souvenir from his trips away. You might start finding loose feathers around Ramshackle and more crows around who also bring small things.
He starts thinking up plans for you to stay on as official faculty of the school once graduating. Of course, it's only because you are super useful and not because he’ll miss you or anything…
It doesn't really hit him until after he sees one of the teachers getting all father figure-y with you and he gets jealous.
Displeased bird noises.
Even before he started to get attached to you he did keep an eye on you, your easy prey amongst beasts after all, but he does develop a habit of popping in more when a boy happens to show his interest in you…or anytime he thinks someone is trying to sneak in and swipe his unofficial dad role…he does a lot of that with Crewel and Trien in particular.
Still, even with his affection for you, he’s still very much…him and the boys know this. Not long till he finds the more well-off beasty boys in his office offering donations to the school in exchange for certain things. More info about you, making you a member of his dorm, ect. A few have learned that the best thing to butter him up with is to talk about what a kind and generous father figure he is and how lovely it would be for Crowley to give the perfect away on their wedding day.
As a result, he, and probably Grim, are going to nudge you toward certain preferred suitors.
You might end up seeing him and probably grim nudging you towards the more well-off suitors.
156 notes · View notes
mrsriddles-blog · 5 months
Text
Nightmare | M.R
Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Mattheo Riddle
WC: 3.5K
Warnings/Notes: Mild Language, Violence, Implied Smut, Angst, etc.
Summary: Mattheo has developed an infatuation with you, the schools notorious badass.
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Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I shall die before I ‘wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take
No one truly understood how Mattheo Riddle—the playboy of the school who suddenly wasn’t playing around anymore—was infatuated with Y/n Y/l/n. She was a girl that not many people wanted to mess around with. She had no problem calling people out on their bullshit, nor did she have a problem being honest—brutally honest.
She had the mouth of a sailor and she was as crude as the guys at the school. She hardly put up with any girls just because she didn’t want anything to do with drama. However, her best girl friend is Pansy Parkinson. When the two were together, everyone knew to steer clear. The two were batshit crazy and was ready to cause havoc.
“Hey babes.” Pansy said, playing with Enzo’s hair.
Everyone sat around the tree as usual as you arrived with a cigarette hanging out of your mouth. You had a new display of bruises on your face, your knuckles bruised and battered. Mattheo eyed you with eyes that Tom teased him about being dreamy looking.
“Hey babe.” You say, taking a seat and leaning back.
“Nasty bruise there.” She teases.
“Granger doesn’t know when enough is enough.” You chuckle, pushing your hair out of your eyes.
I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life
I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it every time
And I realize
I’ve tasted blood and it is sweet
I’ve had the rug pulled beneath my feet
I’ve trusted lies and trusted men
Broke down and put myself back together again
Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters
Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger
I’ve pinched my skin in between my two fingers
And wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors
“Oi! Y/l/n!” Harry exclaims, striding towards you.
You take another puff out of your cigarette, looking up at him unamused as you blow out the puff of smoke in his general direction. He steps back, looking disgusted before focusing back on you. You smile lazily at him.
“What ever do you want, Potter?” You ask sarcastically.
“I want to know why you beat up Hermione.” He demands.
“Well she started it. I ended it.” You say.
“I want a real answer.” He snaps.
You had just walked into the bathroom, opening one of the windows to try and sneak in a quick smoke real quick. Hermione walks in and scoffs when she sees you. You look at her blankly.
“C’mon, give me a smile, Y/l/n.” She mocks, giving you a nasty onceover.
“I don’t owe you a goodman thing. Turn around and leave me alone.” You snap, taking another puff from your cigarette.
“I didn’t think you were a coward. Last I heard, you got into fights and won them. Scared to lose?” She asks.
“How about you shut your mouth before you see where running it gets you.” You suggest, putting out the cigarette and throwing it out the window.
“I told you, Potter. She started it. Maybe you should tell your little bitch to watch who she runs her mouth to next time. I gave her a warning. But, she kept pushing. She was quite determined she’d win the fight. Called me a coward. You should've seen the way she cowardly hid in the corner of the bathroom to get away.” You say, scoffing out a laugh at the memory.
“Come on, little lady, give us a smile.”
No, I ain’t got nothin’ to smile about
I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for
A moment to say I don’t owe you a goddamn thing
“God, you are pathetic. What? You can’t find happiness in your screwed up homelife and among your friends, that you have to hurt other people?” He asks.
“I don’t hurt people without reason. And you know nothing about me.” You spat.
He stared at you a moment, before turning and striding away. He didn’t want to push anymore than he had as he didn’t want to be your next victim.
You watch him with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. You resisted the urge to hex him or worse, curse him. You looked like a daydream to everyone, but really you were a nightmare.
No one truly knew where the change came. You were sweet and innocent once. They wished they could blame your friend group, but you were friends with them before. You came back from summer holidays your third year with a whole different personality. Little did they know, your parents were murdered by a rich wizard who got away with it.
Everything changed for the worst, or maybe the best for some.
Voldemort sought you out after hearing the news from his twin sons. He took you in and began to teach you his ways. You became a Deatheater just like your parents and all your friends. You have became the reason everyone was far more confident that they were going to win the war too. You were calculated, yet when needed you were merciless.
I, I keep the record of the wreckage of my life
I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it every time
And I realize
I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night
That I’m no sweet dream, but I am a hell of a night
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“Y/n/n, I’m delighted you are here for the holidays.” Voldemort says, standing to greet you with a hug.
“Thank you for having me, my lord.” You murmur.
“Of course. Why don’t you go get settled in? Dinner will be done around six.” He says.
“Of course.” You murmur.
Mattheo and Tom waited in the doorway for you. You walked towards them, before pausing as the hairs on your neck stood up. You felt your stomach flip uncomfortably.
“Y/n/n?” Mattheo questions.
“Someone is here. Someone who shouldn’t be here.” You murmur, striding past them as you pull your wand free.
You followed your gut and headed to the basement. You heard Tom and Mattheo behind you as Bellatrix’s cackling from upstairs could be heard. You hear Hermione scream, but you keep going when you see a familiar brunette boy and ginger-head boy.
“Potter! Weasley! What the hell are you doing here?” You snap, pointing your wand at them.
Mattheo and Tom follow in suit, Mattheo distracted as he watched you with awe. Tom rolled his eyes at his brother who was obsessed with you.
“Y/l/n? You are a part of this too?” Harry asks in disbelief.
“Of course she is. She hangs with those snakes too. Not to mention she is a snake herself.” Ron spats.
“What is happening to Hermione?” Harry asks.
“What she deserves for breaking in. What you two will soon face as well. You get a first-hand experience of a snake bite. You get to see how venomous we truly are.” You say, smiling sweetly at the two.
No, I won’t smile, but I’ll show you my teeth
And I’ma let you speak if you just let me breathe
I’ve been polite, but won’t be caught dead
Lettin’ a man tell me what I should do in my bed
Keep my exes in check in my basement
‘Cause kindness is weakness, or worse, you’re complacent
I could play nice or I could be a bully
I’m tired and angry, but somebody should be
Harry eyes you warily, looking between you three. He knew the odds, but he also wasn’t one to go down without a fight. He reached for his wand , but it was to late as you hit him with Cruciatus Curse.
“What are you doing!?” Ron cries, dropping to his knees as he tried to get Harry’s attention.
“Protecting my family.” You spat.
“They are just using you.” Ron says, shaking his head.
“Imperio.” You say, watching him curiously.
“Mattheo, lets grab Potter.” Tom says.
“Ron, keep quiet. Give me your wand and Harry’s wand and follow me.” You say.
Ron hands both wands over as he follows you upstairs. Hermione was tied to a chair now, your eyes falling on the word carved into her arm. Tom and Mattheo struggle to lay an unconscious Harry on the ground.
“Is he dead?” Voldmort questions.
“No, my lord. He is unconscious. I used the Cruciatus Curse on him. I used the Imperius Curse on Ron. They were both in the basement.” You explain.
“Well done, child. The rest are on their way. They should be here any minute.” He says.
You nod, turning to help Tom and Mattheo with tying up Harry in a chair as you hear quiet chatter heading towards the dining room. You tell Ron to sit and you easily tie him up as your friends and their parents enter.
“We had our lovely trio break in, and what for…I don’t know just yet.” Voldemort announces, motioning everyone to take a seat.
You take a seat next to Mattheo, your hands shaky with nerves. He grabs your hand under the table, squeezing it out of comfort. You squeeze back, especially as scarlet red eyes focus on you.
“Question the boy.” He orders.
“Ron, why did you guys break in?” You ask, trying not to show your nerves.
“H-Horcruxes.” He stutters out, trying to fight your hold on him.
“Ron! Fight it! You're stronger than this!” Hermione cries.
“Zip it! Or we might have to repeat what happened a few minutes ago, mudblood.” Bellatrix spats, glaring at Hermione.
“Are you delusional? You three are always up to something, but walking into the snakes den? You truly are arrogant fools.” Tom spats, shaking his head.
“Mattheo, Tom, Y/n/n, you are dismissed. You’ve all proved your worthiness today. Why don’t you two assist Y/n/n with what she might need for the spell she has been working on?” Voldemort suggests.
The three of you stand, leaving the room before Hermione says your name. You stop in the doorway before turning to look back at her.
“Why? Why do this? Why are you on their side? What happened to you? We use to be friends. What changed? Why did you come back somebody else our third year?” She asks, tears in her eyes.
“That Y/n is dead, Granger. She isn’t coming back. She died the day my parents were murdered by a rich wizard. Yet, the Ministry of Magic defended him and let him walk free—a mudblood. He should be rotting in Azkaban.” You spat, your eyes narrowing on her.
This was the first time most of your friends knew of what happened to your parents. They assumed they died, but they didn’t ever pry.
“Come on, little lady, give us a smile”
No, I ain’t got nothin’ to smile about
I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for
A moment to say I don’t owe you a goddamn thing
I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life
I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it every time
And I realize
I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life
I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it every time
And I realize
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“Matty, can I steal one of your jumpers?” You ask, walking into his room.
“Yeah, here.” He says, handing you the one he had been wearing earlier today.
“Thank you.” You say, smiling at him before pulling it on.
He has definitely imagined you in his clothes. He was beyond obsessed. He practically watched your every move when he was in your presence. He imagined a lot of things. He imagined what it would be like to hold you…to kiss you…to see you in his clothes…to see you without clothes. To say the least, he had a very imaginative imagination.
“Are you busy right now?” He asks.
“No. I just wrapped up the loose ends to that spell for your father. So, I should have a lot of free time on my hands now.” You say, sitting at the end of his bed.
“Let’s watch a film then.” He suggests.
“Not some horror flick though.” You plead.
“No, no, not a horror flick. Why don’t you pick?” He suggests.
You smile, shrugging as you nod. He pats the spot behind him and you crawl up the bed before plopping beside him. He scoots closer to you nonchalantly as he hands you the remote to his TV. You pick a romance movie, hoping he doesn’t make fun of you.
Half an hour passes, and Mattheo had gotten pretty invested in the movie. However, that was until you had moved so you were laying down beside him. Now, he found himself watching you when you got drawn in by the movie. He didn’t think it was this fair to look so good in his bed, but you looked like a Goddess in his eyes.
“Y/n/n.” He murmurs, leaning over you a bit, looking down at you.
Your eyes flicker to his, seeing how close he really was to you. Your lips part in surprise, his eyes flickering to them. You look at his lips, watching them move closer and closer. You close your eyes, his lips dancing with yours.
You move a hand to his, pushing his head closer to yours as he straddles you, deepening the kiss. You both never thought a kiss could be so perfect and magical.
“Y/n.” He whispers against your lips, his eyes still closed.
“Matty, I need you.” You whisper, looking up at him with flushed cheeks.
“Shit…are you sure about this baby?” He asks.
“More than sure.” You whisper.
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“Draco, come.” Voldemort says.
You hold Mattheo’s hand tighter, praying Draco comes to you all. It was a relief as he walked over to the Deatheaters side. You’ve noticed he was a little torn between what side he wanted to be on.
“Y/n, now.” Voldemort says, turning to you.
Harry Potter was officially dead. You confirmed it. Now, it was time for the big unveiling of Voldemort’s human form, and not his form that represents where things had gone wrong. It was time for him to be the form of utmost perfection. You found yourself wondering if he’ll look like Tom. Tom does happen to resemble his father a lot from some pictures you’ve seen.
You take in a breath, squeezing Mattheo’s hand before letting it go. You step forward, closing your eyes as you let your arms go out. You hear startled and surprised gasps from everyone around as you begin to float up off the ground.
Mattheo watched just as everyone else was surprised as a green light emitted from you before becoming so bright and engulfing you. He looks back at you after the light explodes and he sees that you're dressed in a black cloak, but he sees the dark green bodice underneath it. Your eyes open and he stumbles back when he sees your eyes are green.
Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware
But I’d rather be a real nightmare than die unaware, yeah
Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware
But I’m glad to be a real nightmare, so save me your prayers
You lift a hand, muttering incoherently before a green tendril reaches out towards Voldemort. It wraps around him, covering him before it slowly washes away as you lower yourself to the ground. You watch, hoping to the gods above that you didn’t just embarrass him. He’d kill you and you knew that.
Your lips part in surprise as you see the man who stood there now. He stood about 6”3 tall, he was lanky yet muscular. His face was sculpted, electric blue eyes instead of scarlet red ones. He had dark brunette hair that was neatly styled and he wore a white button up shirt with black dress pants.
“Your dad is hot.” You mumble and Mattheo pinches you, pouting at you.
“Hey, your mine.” He grumbles.
“I was just noting the obvious.” You mumble.
Voldemort smirks, slowly looking around the crowd. He looks at you and winks before turning to address the other side. You look at Mattheo with wide eyes and parted lips.
“He’s so hot. I really expected he would look like how he had. Like our Tom, now. Not that you're not hot Tom, because you are, like, really hot. But, it seems like even though he hasn’t been his natural self in a long while…he still matured.” You mumble.
“Uhh…thanks I guess.” Tom mumbles.
“You are my bloody girlfriend. Please stop saying my dad is hot.” Mattheo grumbles.
“I’m trying! I’m sorry! I love you.” You say.
“Right.” He grumbles.
You hug him tightly and pout when he doesn’t hug you back. You stand on your tippy toes, your lips brushing against his ear.
“How about I show you how much I love you tonight? I’ve got this new pair of lingerie that I bought because I was thinking of you.” You whisper.
“Deal.” He rasps, kissing your neck before letting you go.
You turn to face Voldemort again. The other side has kneeled and are vowing their loyalty to him. He has them one by one approach him as he gives them the Deatheater mark. Your eyes find Althea, a first year who was looking at you with tears in her eyes. She runs to you, Voldemort watching with curiosity. Your own eyes well, not expecting her to be here.
“When did you get here? I thought I lost you.” You ask, kneeling in front of you as you grab her face in your hands.
“The Ministry of Magic had me at some secure location. They were going to use me as leverage against you when the time come. They had a prophecy that showed who you become. But, you all destroyed the Ministry of Magic. I escaped, “transferred” to Hogwarts in hopes that you’d be here. And you are.” She says, tears falling down her cheeks.
“Oh babes, I am so, so happy you're safe and here. I’ve looked for you, but I honestly thought…I thought they killed you. I couldn’t feel you.” You say, tears falling down your own cheeks.
“They used a spell so you couldn’t feel me. They wanted you to think I was dead…but I’m here. I’m here now.” She whispers, hugging you tightly.
You hug her back tightly, burying your face in her neck as you try to get a grip on your emotions. You lean back, gently wiping her tears away before wiping your own and you smile at her softly.
“Who is this?” Voldemort asks, stopping behind Althea.
You stand, putting an arm around your sister’s shoulder. You look at him and smile slightly.
“This is my sister, Althea. I thought she died…but I guess the Ministry of Magic has had her hidden all along. They had some prophecy about me so they were going to use her as leverage against me. But, because of what you’ve done for us and you’ve taken down the Ministry of Magic…she escaped. Thank you, my lord.” You say.
“Y/n/n…it’s time you called me father or dad. I’ve considered you a daughter for awhile…especially after all you’ve done for our family…and now you and Mattheo are in love…I simply think it’s time for you to stop calling me ‘my lord’ or ‘Voldemort’ and called me dad or something. Althea…I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.” He says, putting a hand out for her to shake.
She takes his hand, shaking it as Tom mumbles something about his name being the same as his fathers. Voldemort takes a knee in front of Althea and smiles at her.
“What should I call you?” She asks.
“Dad…call me dad.” He mumbles.
You smile slightly, realizing that he had a connection to your little sister. You knew he looked at her like a daughter as well. But, this was different. You knew these two were going to have a special bond. You look over at Tom and Mattheo to see them watching with small smiles.
I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life
I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it ever time
And I realize
I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life
I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it every time
And I realize
I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night
That I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night.
272 notes · View notes
hades-in-bloom · 9 months
Text
Shower Thoughts
Leon S. Kennedy x Reader
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summary: Leon has just returned from another soul-crushing mission—and you didn't happen to be home yet.
warnings & contents: heavy angst, our sweetpea is hurt; suicide trigger/thoughts; implied severe depression; assumed older Leon; implied military training on the reader; more hurt than comfort; mentions of death and violence, and blood; could be read as age gap but could be none; the reader could be of any gender; there's light at the end of the tunnel.
a/n: I was craving some angst but didn't plan it to go that far; oh well. Our sweet boy deserves all the happiness though—but author is a bitch. Also, I don't believe Leon would be seriously considering harming himself, but I do believe that he's an empathetic human being kidnapped in his youth to do a shitty job, so there could be a moment of weakness; otherwise, “we owe it to the people who died alongside us, so we have to continue living.” As always, proceed at your own risk. DNI minors & if mentions of suicide affect you. This is a work of fiction and shouldn't be used as guidance on how to behave in similar sensitive situations. Masterlist
***
Leon rubbed his hands under the hot tap forcefully, willing to wash off the blood; the water coming off his fingers was clean for a while, but he seemed not to notice it—after all, there was always blood on his hands, whether others could see it or not. The man only stopped when the touch started to hurt, his abused skin red from friction.
“Shit,” Leon grunted under his breath and turned off the faucet angrily, his breathing ragged. Others might say that it was adrenaline still rushing through his veins, but he knew it wasn’t it. For how long he’s done this job, he was past the prolonged adrenaline rush a while ago. Leon put his palm over his forehead, barely covering his exhausted eyes; his hands slightly shaking.
How many more people had to die before this shit would end?
He remembered them all, those he couldn’t save, and he only kept counting. Leon knew he wasn’t supposed to—saving ordinary folk was a luxury in his position—but it was hard for him to accept who he had become. The extensive bathroom mirror in front of him, he couldn’t level his gaze to take a look at himself, and when he did, his teeth clenched, and his glance shot into the corner of the reflection—there was his essential gear, a pistol and a knife, thoughtlessly dropped on the bathroom floor.
Suddenly, he felt exhausted. A carnal thought made him blush in a fever—wouldn’t it be so easy? Leon was never the type to look for easy ways out—but he was only of flesh and blood, too; isn't he only human? Despite what reports said about him always being “the survivor” and “the golden boy.” Screw the odds.
He picked up his gear from the floor, his palm sliding across the pistol barrel. Leon counted the bullets left in the magazine with another hand, pulling it back into the grip compartment right after; his facial expression was unreadable, deprived of emotion. In moments like this, the man wasn't sure if he could feel anything anymore.
Wouldn't it be so easy, after all? Maybe after that, he'll be able to wake up from this bloody nightmare.
Consumed by his thoughts, he didn't hear how the keys screeched in the lock of the apartment door, and you came in.
You noticed his jacket on the hanger, and your eyebrows shot to your forehead in surprise.
“Leon?” you called to him, dropping bags full of groceries next to the kitchen island; your body tensed in anticipation. You didn't expect him so early. After his assignments, he usually barged in the middle of the night and not in the light of day. You didn't complain, though. You missed him.
You gently knocked on the bathroom door when you heard muffled sounds from another side. “Hey,” your voice was calm and soothing. “Can I come in? Do you need help?” At this point, you got used to his bruises and stitches, caring only about him getting back home in one piece.
There was something more to his injuries this time.
“Shit,” Leon cursed under his breath again when you stepped into the bathroom, despairing of getting a word out of him. You were worried; he could see it on your face. You quickly noticed his scalded hands, the right one behind his back, hiding something. He looked like a curious teenager who got caught watching adult movies.
“Hey,” his lips stretched into an unnatural smile. “Sorry, I didn't hear you come in…”
“You should've called me,” you scolded him calmly, making a step forward. His body tensed and froze as soon as you stretched your hand toward him, and you held back a frown. “…I would’ve been home in a heartbeat.”
The man’s eyes were bloodshot, his lips chapped, and his breath ragged; and then you saw it—the reflection in the mirror betraying him—his long fingers clinging to the gun. Your mouth went agape, and you dashed forward with a precision of a trained police officer.
“Give it to me,” you hissed, your heart beating in your throat. You were scared—you haven't been that afraid of in ages. Leon gasped, bamboozled, and his hand easily let go of a weapon. You didn’t ask—you slapped him across the face, letting your frustration out. “Are you mad? What were you going to do with this thing?”
You would react differently if he wasn’t hiding it; somehow this bothered you more than anything. After all, Leon should’ve known that you wouldn’t fumble at the sight of a gun, which made his attempts to cover its presence even more pointless.
His cheeks flushed, and he gulped, incapable of looking at you; he was confirming your worst fears, and after giving him a long stare, your hand covered your mouth to stop you from sobbing.
“Moron,” you grunted under your breath. His head got even lower, and you saw a tear falling onto the lightly colored tile. It took you a moment before you grabbed him into an angry, desperate embrace. His hands wrapped around your waist, then one shot into your hair, pressing at the back of your head, pulling you closer. His face was buried into your neck, and his body shook violently as he let himself cry.
You held him painfully close as long as it was necessary. “I am sorry,” you whispered next to his ear while he clung to you like a drowning man to a lifeboat; you sounded hurt and angry—and hopeful. “I am so, so sorry.”
496 notes · View notes
chaotic-iguana · 10 months
Text
Sleep
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Summary: Reader suffers from lack of sleep, caused by a recent event. As she continues to overwork herself, she reaches her breaking point with near disastrous results. Starring concerned!steve murphy, chaotic idiot!steve murphy and clueless!reader. javi has my fucking heart though.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no use of y/n though)
Rating: M
Wordcount: 2.2k 
Warnings: fluff, mild angst, sort of a panic attack, mild MILD allusions to someone being creepy (not javi though), mild flirting, humour, lots of swearing sorry
this is my first fic - let me know your thoughts! check me out on ao3
masterlist.
“I swear to fucking god Murphy, if you don’t stop bouncing your leg against the table, I’m slamming your head right into it” is the gospel that flows out of your mouth at 7 am on a Monday morning. Feels like it’s gonna be a great week.
“The hell did I do? You’d think Connie’s cookies would be enough to get you animals off my back, but no, first sign of any damn fire an’ the first person you’d throw in?” Steve huffs. “Murphy”, he repeats mockingly. You scoff and roll your eyes at him, clenching and unclenching your fists in an attempt to talk yourself down from strangling the idiot situated two feet to your left before turning back to the paperwork in front of you. The one-foot-tall, monster stack of paperwork. Right. In. Front. Of. You. And would the golden boys ever do it themselves? If they ever got a moment’s relief from jacking each other off during missions (or however the hell they manage to fumble practically every single little op), maybe. But most of the time, you were stuck with it. Because god forbid the two princesses you were partnered with ever had to so much as lift a pen themselves. Hell would freeze over.
And it isn’t like you mind. At all, really. Half your job is the paperwork, and you’re happy to get it in order - if only to avoid Noonan’s wrath. Besides, what good is an agent if they can’t do their fucking job? In its entirety; not the half-assed shit most of the men did around the embassy. But a single glimpse of yourself in the mirror while rushing to leave the house revealed that these past few weeks of skipping lunch breaks, going home late, and taking files home to work on have been catching up with you - sunken, bloodshot eyes, cracked lips, and bruises smudged under your eyes now, perpetually, since the nightmares had started. Anything to keep you busy, right?
Another aggravating side effect of the amount of work you had taken on apart from the usual? The constant irritation. Marlene’s new nails, Katie’s suspicious last lay, the stupid fucking demon alarm clock that never quite managed to wake you up, the busted tire, the broken coffee machine, Dave from accounting’s downright idiotic whistling, your pen running out of ink, and finally - Murphy’s bouncing knee banging the table every fucking millisecond, practically in tune with the pounding ache beginning to form between your brows. If you were a better person, you’d let these things go. Such is life, right? But since the lack of sleep, the increased workload and general mishappenings had already created this beautiful trifecta of shit just to screw you over, better people could go fuck themselves. As could Murphy. “Don’t use your wife’s cooking as an excuse. I’m telling you, make another sound and die.” you spit out, whirling in your chair because the incessant fucking banging still hasn’t stopped - just in time to catch Peña sauntering in, already smirking.
“Already nailing Murphy’s balls, cariño? Careful, I’ll fall in love, baby.” You can hear the laughter in his crooning voice as he throws it over his shoulder - but you don’t care - can’t care, beyond the spots that seem to be forming at the edges of your vision. Were your fingers always a bit tingly? Or is that a new development, like your tongue suddenly feeling thick and heavy in your mouth, like you’re choking on it? But even though your thoughts feel slow and weighed down by molasses, rage sparks brighter in your mind as Peña’s flirty nicknames and bullshit teasing registers. You push away from your desk, and shoot up from the chair, striding towards the door to get some air - or you try to - because before you know it, your vision is blinded by white and you’re breathing quick, shallow breaths as you lay on the ground trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. Distantly, you can hear someone calling your name but it sounds so far away you barely even register it. Hands wrap around your wrist, your head, attempting to stabilize you, to ground you, as you flail wildly in a panic. A low hum begins to fill your senses, forming words that sound to fuzzy to understand or care about right now, but you lean into it, something in your being telling you it’s safe.
When your sight clears, you’re curled up on the on the floor trembling. Shaking, like a scared fucking child, while Peña kneels to hold you to his chest, repeating the same few phrases over and over: “You’re okay, it’s okay hermosa. You’re safe. Safe. No ones gonna hurt you, it’s over now, okay?” as Murphy stands next to him, watching with panic and a hint of sympathy in his gaze. You scramble away from them both, panting, nearly slipping in your effort to get to your feet. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, pretty. You’re okay” Peña repeats his assurances with his hands held out, palms facing you, as you stand on wobbling knees, wiping at your face.
“‘M fine” is all you whisper to them hoarsely before ducking your head and rushing out of the pathetically cramped room you three work in. You can hear footsteps behind you, but can’t find it in you to turn around - not even at the panicked sounds of your name being called by a familiar voice. You’re making a scene, you know it, but you don’t care. It’s all too much, and you’re too far gone. Reaching the parking lot, you struggle to unlock your car as your trembling fingers drop the keys twice. Swearing, you resolve and pick them up again, pressing them and reaching for the door. But just before your fingers find the handle another hand - much, much larger than yours - splays out on the window to stop you, just as Peña’s signature bedhead comes into view. He looks at you with wide, concerned eyes, his mouth tucked low at the corners, like he’s disappointed. You want to melt, you do, because the melting pot of emotions you have for him make you preen at his worry - but your usual defense mechanisms humble you. And so you sharpen your claws, flash your fangs, and the hackles raise again, leaving a “What, Peña?” to come tumbling out in a tone so sharp it makes you flinch. HIs frown just deepens as his gaze rakes over your form frantically, as if checking for injury. He says nothing, pursing his lips further before snatching your wrist and tugging you behind him as he stalks to his car, opening the side door. You raise a brow at him, and he counters by jerking his head towards the car, scowling slightly. You get in, slightly confused, and wait for him to walk around and get into the drivers seat. “What the fuck, Peña? I just fainted, I’m not senile. And I don’t give a shit how mad you are, you can’t just-just drag me to your car and f-force me to get in. The fuck are you playing at?” you begin to ramble, fury somehow still rising at a dizzying speed. Peña doesn’t respond, just starts driving while looking straight ahead while you continue fumbling over a panicked rant so pathetic it sounds nonsensical to your own ears. “…And what? You just enjoy calling me s-stupid nicknames? You think it’s cute to flirt with me while I’m- while I pass out?” This one makes his nostrils flare, eyes darkening a bit while his jaw tightens just for a second before letting go. You pause for a second, getting your breath while your hands still shake in your lap. “I’m fine, it’s fine. Can I just go home please? I’ve already done the month’s paperwork for all the ops we have planned, and you can just give me the rest post-op. I’m just a bit under the weather, I just need to lie down for a bit.” you start trying to reason, but the stubborn ass just keeps driving, and alarm starts bubbling in your chest again. You look down to your lap while you fiddle with your thumbs, willing to control the irrational fear yelling at you that something’s wrong every second Peña chooses to stay silent.
“Think I was flirting with you while you passed out? Y’think I don’t see it, you working yourself to the fucking bone? Think I can’t see how you’ve stopped eating, honey? Stopped laughing like you used to? Think I don’t know how late you’ve starting going home? As ‘f I’ll ever stop waitin’ for ya to clock out first so I know you’re home okay, baby. You gotta tell me what’s wrong - this is eatin’ you up.“
Peña’s tone softens, but his harsh whisper makes you turn your head to look at him. He sounds so…tortured, as if he’s the one suffering. He glances your way, locking eyes with you for a second before turning his head back to the road. You sit there and practically gape at him, your jaw slack as your head whirls. Peña knows? No, wait, he waits? For you to go home so you’re safe? He cares? What the fuck? Confused, all that comes out of your mouth is a mighty elegant open-mouthed “huh?” before you blink at him, waiting for him to continue.
“You gotta know by now, sweetheart. Gotta see how I’ve been lookin’ at you. You’re the smartest fuckin’ agent I’ve seen, with the balls to take down men I’d sweat to be ‘n the same room with. You swear like a sailor, an’ make me laugh till I’m chokin’ on my own damn cigarette. Tell me what’s hurtin’ you, honey. I can’t promise I’ll fix it, but I can swear to you I’ll damn well try my best.” He responds, turning to hold your gaze as his own eyes widen, and his brows turn down. Puppy eyes, you think. 
Your brain has gone from hazy to too fucking clear in a matter of five minutes, and now it feels like your thoughts are gonna come ripping out of your head. So you just blink at him, again, before reaching an unsteady hand out to cup his cheek. “I’m okay, I swear. Just-you remember that deal I had to cut last month? With the sicario? For intel on that lab?” Peña nods, and you continue. “Fucker led me to a dead end. Ambushed me. O-only got out ‘cause his gun jammed, and his child-soldier ran away. I just-this is so fucking dumb I’ve been in worse but- I can’t get it out of my head. The shit he said to me, the way he looked at me, t-touched me. I should be dead or worse, Peña. And I nearly was.“ you look down again, ashamed of the truth that’s spilling out of your mouth. It’s so small, so weak, you just want to fold into yourself and never come out. Your voice wobbles towards the end, tears filling your eyes as you turn your head away from the man you’ve wanted for so long to save whatever dignity you still have left. “‘N I can’t sleep anymore. Just see- or feel him every time. So thought I’d work for a bit. Clearly didn’t fucking work out, though.” small hiccups have started to punctuate your words, testament to the tears now flowing down your cheeks. Peña pulls up to an unfamiliar building and turns to you.
“‘S Javi, honey. Look at me, pretty baby.” He cradles your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to turn your head towards him. “None of that was stupid, okay? Come lie down at my place. I’ll sit in a damn chair next to you and fight him away if he comes in your dreams, sweetheart, okay? Nothin’ to be ‘fraid of. Never letting any fuckers near you again.” Javi leans in to brush a kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the car and hooking his index and middle finger to beckon you too. You step out of the truck and towards him, smiling while swiping at your face. “Didn’t know this was what the girls meant every time they bragged about sleeping with you” you snark softly, with a teasing grin on your face as you reach him. Javi rolls his eyes playfully before unlocking the door.
“Ain’t gotta do no sleepin’ you don’t want to, honey. You’re here to get some rest. Be a good girl and sleep f’me, and I’ll keep you up for as long as you like after,” he  throws over his shoulder with a matching grin and a wink.
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topperscumslut · 1 year
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My Idiot (Jay Kelso x Reader)
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Summary: Reader is Hyde’s daughter and staying with the Formans while he’s in jail, the new generation has a sleepover at the Forman’s house and there’s only one bed for Jay and (Y/N)… Note: Jaya (JayxLeia) does not exist in this imagine
Word count: 1k
“Okay you guys,” Leia said with a deep breath, “Grandma and grandpa actually said you guys can stay the night, so we can’t screw this up. I’m staying in my dad’s old room and (Y/N) is staying in Aunt Laurie’s old room, as usual. Can you guys all find somewhere to sleep in the basement?”
“Sounds good to me,” Ozzie popped up.
“Nikki and I can take the couch,” Nate said.
“Yeah, that should work,” Gwen added, “it just sucks that Jay isn’t here.”
You nodded half heartedly. Your best friend - and crush - Jay Kelso was working a long night shift at the video store, and you were bummed that he was missing your first (and probably only, considering how Red Forman was) sleepover with the gang.
Almost like clockwork, the basement door opened.
“Hey guys!” A familiar voice spoke up. Jay’s voice. “They let me off early,” he said as his eyes briefly floated to where you were sitting on the floor, then shyly finding their way back to the rest of the group.
“Well shit,” Leia sighed, “I mean, we’re glad you’re here! But Red let us have a sleepover for once, and I don’t think there will be enough room in the basement for you…”
“Well that’s not convenient,” Jay said with a flat face, sheepishly sitting down next to you.
“Hold on you guys, I’ll be right back. I don’t imagine in a thousand years my grandpa would let you stay in my room, but I have a couch and (Y/N) doesn’t, and I don’t want to make her offer her bed to you if she isn’t okay with it.”
You shifted awkwardly, silently hoping you could share your bed with Jay. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if we have to…” you trailed on quietly, Jay looking at you shyly, his cheeks noticeably heating up.
The rest of the group hadn’t heard you but Jay had sitting so close to you. “You sure?” he asked and you nodded, lacking the courage to look at him.
Leia ran upstairs and it only took a few seconds before you heard the booming sound of Red yelling.
“If that boy goes even close to your bedroom, my foot is going even closer to up his ass! Absolutely not!”
Leia hurried down the stairs with a defeated look on her face. “So that’s a no go. (Y/N), are you sure you’re ok with sharing a bed with Jay?”
You shrugged, now bright red. “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind.”
The seven of you spent the rest of the night together, laughing, watching My So Called Life, and getting high, before finally around midnight you all started to crash.
“Should we call it a night, you guys?” you asked through a yawn, anxious to spend the night with Jay.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Yep.”
“I’m tired.”
“Well, goodnight you guys,” Leia spoke, “see you all in the morning.” With that you, Leia, and Jay stumbled your way upstairs while the others stayed in the basement getting comfy.
You quickly brushed your teeth and got cleaned up for bed, putting on your favorite lacy nightgown, your heart beating out of your chest before you heard your name called from downstairs.
“Y/N! I need to talk to you!”
Shit. It was Red.
You made your way down the stairs, feigning sobriety, into the Forman living room.
“Yes Mr. Forman?”
“Sit down.”
“You know (Y/N), I remember your father sitting on this exact same couch when he was your age. He was a good kid, even with all the dope he did. He was nice to people.” Red sighed, “I remember that boy’s father too, and how he used to fool around with young girls like you, even my own daughter.”
“But Jay isn’t like-“
“I know, I know, that kid hardly knows his own father. But as you’ve been staying with Kitty and I, you’ve become like another grandkid to us. I always feared I’d be raising Steven’s kids…” he grumbled. “No funny business in there, okay? You’re better than to be screwing a Kelso. I know you think no one’s caught onto your little crush on this boy, but I’ve seen these things before. And if he so much as lays a finger on you, my foot will go so far up his ass he won’t even be able to feel his fingers!”
“We’ll be good,” you smiled, rolling your eyes. “Now goodnight.”
“Goodnight (Y/N).”
You hurried back up the stairs to find Jay already all cozied up in your bed.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
His eyes scanned your body in awe and he hid a smile as you made your way into bed.
You both squirmed awkwardly for a little while, not talking, not looking at each other, and especially not touching.
“I’m sorry (Y/N), I’ll try to let you sleep. I know you didn’t really want me in here…”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I could tell you were uncomfortable in the basement and just trying to be nice. I can sleep in the living room if you wa-“
You shut him up by kissing him, to his surprise. Jay closed his eyes and let himself melt into the kiss. It was slow and sweet, innocent, loving.
“Of course I want you here. I was nervous because I have a crush on you, doofus.”
“Well you could’ve just said that,” he laughed. “But, uh, I’m glad you didn’t. I have a crush on you too. Have for a while,” he smirked, kissing you again.
You laughed as the kiss ended, rubbing noses together. “Go to bed, idiot.”
He cuddled his way into you, pulling you in by your waist and spooning you, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.”
You smiled, cheeks turning a baby pink, still not sure if this was all really happening. “Yeah, Jay, you’re my idiot.”
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peachirambles · 5 months
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I'm doing these two together because of their similarities and figured it would just be best to answer both of them at once.
As a preface: Qiu and the MC do have a crush on each other but neither of them have acted on it. So right now they are Very close friends but Tamarack and the MC are best friends. I went with a more fem leaning MC but they are still using they/them pronouns and are still nonbinary. Just because of who will be showing up in this drabble 😭
With that out of the way, here's the drabble! Hope yall enjoy Qiu being a certified #asshole
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Qiu wasn't a jealous person. In fact, they were quite the opposite, growing up as the residental young boyish heart-throb of the young population had other people jealous of them for many reasons. Popularity, good looks, funny, and with a perchant for being kind to everyone they meet; they had heard the rumors of how some of the "friends" Qiu had were secretly trying to push others away from them just to horde their affection. Of course, Ren and Baxter always snuffed out those particular people's issues. Though that didn't stop Qiu from finding out that they unknowingly made people jealous of them. For a while, they had grown accustomed to it.
But then they moved in.
With their sincerity, kindness, and love; they ruined Qiu so thoroughly, down to their very being. Yet, Qiu couldn’t even complain. They would absolutely let the MC do it again and again to them. They were everything to them, and all they had to do was look pretty and bat their eyelashes at them to get them to do anything. They were completely head over heels screwed for them.
And it's what led them here now, sitting at the lunch table, silently fuming on the uncomfortable bench.
Fuming because they were the reason they were completely and madly green with envy at the sight of the MC being so close with Tamarack.
"Tamarack, your hair is so silky and has such gorgeous curls!" The MC preened as they started to make a small braid with some strands of Tamarack's hair.
"Ah, are they really?" Was Tamarack's reply, soft and questioning. For a second, it would have sounded truly genuine, and it might have been, but Qiu knew better.
Tamarack had lost all of her boisterous energy and know-it-all attitude that she wielded back in 2010, replaced with insecurities about everything and anything about herself. It was like watching a turtle shrink back into its shell, and a part of Qiu understood why.
But as they watched the MC comb and weave their beautiful fingers through Tamarack's sparkling hair; a much louder, nastier part of them yelled and screeched.
She's obviously fishing for compliments, she knows her hair is her best quality!
Her hair isn't even that pretty to begin with!
Why is the MC braiding her hair? She doesn't deserve it.
Is my hair not good enough to be braided?
Why her and not me!
"Anddd done!" The MC squeaked, snapping Qiu out of their momentary spiral as the group cooed and awed at the small braid, dangling next to Tamarack's ear. Much to Qiu's utter displeasure, Tamarack had the nerve to be bashful.
"It's so cute!" Serenity, one of Tamarack and the MC's friend, piped up. "Now you have two braids!"
"It does look very nice." Vianca hummed in approval, which made Tamarack fidget in place.
"You did a good job MC." Renee or Ren for short, the only ally Qiu supposedly had at this godforesaken table and the only reason why they were even sitting there, smiled at the both of them.
Why the hell was she on Tamarack's side?Almost everyone here don't even know she's a girl! Why are we even here?!
Qiu couldn’t help but grit their teeth in pure frustration. They couldn't even lie, it was a perfect braid and it suited Tamarack perfectly. But, if they were being honest, they had rather Tamarack have no-
"Qiu."
Qiu, once again, snapped out of their thoughts and turned to the source of the voice. It was Vianca of all people, with a smirk on her face. Usually, they didn’t a single shit about her, but for some reason, that shit eating smirk made Qiu's stomach drop.
"Aren't you going to... you know? Join in on the conversation or compliment the braid? You havs been staring at Tamarack for a hot minute now." She sneered at them, and Qiu's eyes widened as they realized she was completely right.
Tamarack had noticed Qiu's stare on her. Otherwise, she wouldn't be fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, her smile dropping into an uneasy line, and her plucked eyebrows furrowed. God, she made them truly sick sometimes.
"Qiu probably thinks it's fine." Ren chuckled, though it was obvious that there was nervous energy coating each sound. They felt a small jab on their foot, and they looked up to see Ren's hazelnut eyes staring back at them.
"Right, Qiu?"
Qiu knew what was happening. They made Tamarack feel bad, and now they had to sit there and pretend that they thought her and her stupid mini braid that the MC made was cute to save face. Their hands balled up into fists on the table for just a second before they took a simple breath in and exhaled, and their hands relaxed once more.
The MC is in front of them for fuck's sake, they can pretend to be fine.
"Sure. It's cute." Was Qiu's stiff reply.
There was a collective breath of relief from most of the table's patrons, and Tamarack glanced up at them for just a second, her eyes searching for something before-
"I'm so glad!" The MC nearly squealed before pulling Tamarack into a close hug, giddy from all the praise, and all poor Tamarack was able to muster out was a solid squeak.
"I been practicing and practicing with Tamarack's hair the past few days after school. I love messing with hair, and once I get better, I want to do-"
There was a solid slam that reverberated on the table that not only silenced them but silenced most of the chatter in the cafeteria. Qiu's palms stinged and burned from the impact of the force, but they didn't care.
Why should they when all they been hearing was just bragging and idolizing someone that wasn't quite frankly worth the MC's time?
"I am sooo happy that you love to do Tamarack's hair and that you just loveee to do everything with her." Qiu laughed but it wasn't remotely happy or earnest, but instead filled with a deep malice.
"Qiu-" Ren snapped but Qiu pressed on.
"But I quite frankly don't give a fuck enough to be caring about her damn braid to be complimenting it."
There was audible gasps and even some giggles from the other students who were listening in. Vianca, Renee and Serenity's faces were twisted in a state of shock and disgust. The nasty pit in them were reveling in it.
At least that was the case until their eyes wandered on Tamarack's face, flushed hot with embarrassment and shame. Her head was ducked down but they could hear her eyelashes furiously batting away the tears that were starting to form beyond the drumming of Qiu's heart in their ears.
And if that didn't make Qiu falter, then the look on their face certainly did. It wasn't shock, it wasn't anger; it was pure and unfiltered hurt and disappointment. That was easily enough for Qiu to stop, but as if feeling like they were controlled on strings, they spoke again.
"Now if all of you excuse me, I'm going to do something better with my time."
The poison in their words even shocked them, but before they could even process that, they felt their limbs run on auto pilot.
They snatched their bag and stormed out of the cafeteria much to the confused shouts of the group, but Qiu didn't care.
They had to get out of there! They had to!
Qiu felt the blood rush to their face in so many emotions, eyes stinging as tears filled their vision. As they side-stepped both faculty and students as they ran up the stairs, thoughts were running at them a mile an hour.
Why did I do that?!
Why didn't I do it sooner?!
Did you see the look on their faces!?
I made Tamarack cry!
It was so funny!
What is wrong with me?
It was great!
As Qiu barreled past the door and onto the rooftop, stopping to take a breath of fresh air, one single though ruminated in their head.
I hurt them. I hurt my best friend.
Qiu wasn't a jealous person. That's what they thought. But as they sat down on a bench, holding their head in their hands, that thought just wasn't true anymore.
They realized that maybe, just maybe something nasty had taken residence within them underneath their watch. Whatever that nasty thing was, Qiu thought, it had rotten them to their core.
Or worse, that nasty pit was there the entire time and Qiu was too tired to fight back anymore.
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