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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

Note

I really love you "Get off my screen" series! And I just and couldn't stop thinking about Reader just texting out of nowhere saying "Bruh I'm fucking dying"

And Vox is just going haywire(See what I did there?) Worried about you and ask what they mean and Reader be like "I'm dying because of BOARdom(Get it?)

You're Just Being Mean!

A/N: Omg I am absolutely writing this AHAHAHAHA- Vox is always the one screwing with dear Reader so I think it's about time to return the favor. Thank you @crazylzp143 for the inbox idea! I love how much this story is expanding and the ideas y'all have for it. As always, I hope you all enjoy this filler interlude and please keep the ideas coming! Happy reading!

You cheered, flopping backwards on your bed in a cheerful mood.

On your computer monitor was an empty assignment box.

You'd successfully accomplished all your required tasks before the semester's end which left you with a whole lot of free time to burn.

And did you absolutely just unwind and relax.

Playing games, watching movies, bingeing shows-

You practically spedran the chill pill treatment.

To the point where you managed to bore yourself before the day was even over.

You stared up at the ceiling with an annoyed look-

Wasn't there really anything else you could do?

And why did time pass by so slowly?

God you were bored.

In the middle of your TV show binge, your phone buzzed to life.

Considering you'd quickly found the plot line to be quite a drag, you just let the drama play while you no longer paid attention to it.

The white noise the show provided helped make it feel like you were actually doing something.

Even when you knew you weren't doing anything productive at all-

Looking over at your phone, you smiled upon opening the familiar chatbox that you saw almost daily.

"Heya Voxxy, what's up?"

"Well aren't you in a good mood today! Anything special?"

You playfully rolled your eyes, Vox really thought he was being cheeky this time wasn't he?

"Managed to complete all my work for the semester, so now I can just chillax until exams come around!"

"Wait what? Holy shit! You've got a whole two weeks of nothing then!"

"IKR! I can just laze around and do what I want after class hours!"

It wasn't surprising that Vox quickly got used to your schedule, you'd also grown slightly accustomed to his.

He knew the basic rundown of your schedule, like when your classes started and ended-

Just as much as you knew when he had to leave for his daily broadcast and when he would come back.

You could only guess him knowing when exam season happens was from looking at the calendars and schedules you had meticulously prepared in your computer.

There were times he would even remind you of things due on a day, like quizzes or projects to which you would grow embarrassed that it slipped your mind.

You were the one who made the calendar, how could you forget it???

Though it was probably helpful on his end that he quite literally had a digital reference to look back on.

You still wondered sometimes how he managed to end up with a TV for a head but didn't look into it much.

"Guess that means you'll be spending more time with me?"

"Dude, I already spend so much time with you! Any more and I'd have to call you my boyfriend!"

That message really shouldn't have caused Vox to bluescreen but it did.

He was just so flustered that his system crashed in it's entirety because of what you said.

Not that you noticed when all you got in reply was some keysmash and middle finger emojis.

Vox could only imagine you were laughing at his expense, and even then he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed with you.

It was only recently that he'd become hyper aware with how much you meant to him so jokes and comments like that easily sent his mental careening.

Not that he quite understood why he felt this way yet, a part of him still blamed some unknown untraceable malware that your devices shoved into his system.

Though he highly doubted that a stupid virus would make his stomach do flips whenever he saw your silly smile.

Oh whatever, he'll just have to run another malware check later or something.

You just continued to tease Vox for a good while before he had to excuse himself and leave for a meeting.

He was slightly glad that he had just a little respite from your teasing onslaught.

Any more of it and there was a high risk he would've accidentally caused another citywide blackout.

You tossed your phone onto an adjacent cushion and just laughed.

No wonder Vox liked to embarrass you so much.

It was downright hilarious and entertaining.

You couldn't help but feel slightly flattered with his reactions though, was your friendship that important to him?

So he really did care after all, what a dork.

The funny high you were running on, much to Vox's chagrin, didn't last long.

So you decided to go back to fucking with your TV headed companion since he usually did the same to you.

"Dudeeeee I'm fucking dyingggg-"

Vox made the mistake of checking his phone in the middle of the meeting and nearly gave himself a stroke upon reading your message.

What in Lucifer's name even happened?!

Last he checked you were completely fine???

He hadn't even left you for-

Taking a look at his internal clock, Vox glitched from sheer panic.

It hadn't even been an hour!

Was this supposed to be a joke??

Were you just fibbing with him?

Or god forbid you were actually hurt and needed help-

He was about to just bolt out of that meeting before another messaged snapped him out of it.

"I'm dying- dying of BOARDom! HAHA see what I did there?"

Vox felt the last of his patience leave him as rings appeared on his other eye.

The absolute nerve of you-!

"Oh fuck off (Y/N)."

With that, he angrily pocketed his phone and once again paid attention to the meeting.

The poor presenter in the front nearly shat himself from how irritated Vox looked, they didn't know that frustration was because of you though.

You just couldn't stop laughing at his reply, not realizing how badly your overlord friend took the joke until some noticeable time passed and there wasn't a single message or notification from him.

Now that started to concern you.

You'd be lucky to get through an hour with less than a hundred notifications at a time-

It's been two and there was still absolutely nothing.

Did something happen?

Was he upset or dealing with something?

Perchance... did you do something to upset him?

"Vox...? Hey, you good dude?"

You grew more concerned as the minutes ticked on.

Whatever it was- Vox was probably genuinely upset.

And you had a gut feeling it had something to do with you.

"I'm not talking to you."

You almost wanted to roll your eyes at his message, was he being childish?

So your hunch was right, you did manage to upset him- somehow.

"Ehhhh??? Why? What did I do?"

"You know what you fucking did (Y/N)."

Not really- that's why you asked.

Your hands dropped onto your lap tiredly as you looked up towards the ceiling.

What... what did you do wrong?

Scrolling up to read your chats, it didn't take long before you realized where it went wayside.

Oh.

"Right, you don't really like it when I joke about dying huh."

"No."

"You never really told me why, and you never cared this much before. You would just laugh it off when I delivered the punchline."

"You're still young (Y/N). You have your whole life ahead of you. Dying puts you at risk of ending up here in hell with me."

"You know that doesn't sound as horrible as you paint it right?"

"Pardon?"

"I'll end up where you are, that can't seriously be that bad."

Vox genuinely wondered if you had a screw loose or something this time.

He continued to try hammering it into you that it was hell he was talking about.

Eternal damnation, the never-ending inferno, etc.

Ya know, where all the sinners went to suffer??

But again and again you would just keep repeating-

"But I'll be where you are, it won't be that bad- it can't be that bad."

Until he finally understood what you were insinuating.

It wouldn't be so bad, because he was there.

He would be there with you.

At that point the state of hell or where you were wasn't important.

Vox could only chuckle at his own foolishness.

Not to mention just how oblivious you were to your own words.

"I guess. Just don't do that again."

"I'll try not to. Besides, if I croak and end up at the heaven gates- I'll put in a good word for you."

"You? In heaven? Nice joke dollface."

"Oh fuck you too Vox, I was being optimistic."

The tech overlord just rolled his eyes, there was a real risk that he could lose you soley because heaven would take you away but he didn't dwell on it.

You were still here texting him, cracking jokes and being your obnoxiously cute self.

You were still on the other side of the screen furiously typing up a comeback of why you would be able to get into the pearly gates.

Vox just chuckled, as long as you were with him in the here and now-

He found he wouldn't care even if hell froze over.

A/N: Our Voxxy is starting to catch feels, well- slightly- he's just in the stages of caring a bit too much but not realizing it's romance yet. Writing this stuff is hilariously entertaining, plus the slow burn is just yummy hahahahah I'll be putting out some more interludes tomorrow but the direct continuation is finished! I just need to post these things chronologically XD

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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puckbunnyera · 1 month

Text

Second Chance | Arber Xhekaj

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

genre: angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none

notes: started this a couple of weeks ago and i've finally finished it. the part that took the longest was deciding which hockey player i wanted to use for it.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

Coming to the game was a bad idea. I knew it from the moment the word yes slipped from my lips, but when Mayah, the bubbly girl that sits next to me in my psychology lecture, asked if I would attend the game between the Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs with her after her friend bailed, I couldn't find it in me to turn her down.

In the day leading up to the game, I convinced myself that everything would be fine. That he wouldn't even know I was there. I'm not quite sure if I jinxed myself or if Karma was playing some cruel joke on me, but the second we made it to our seats, right there in the front row behind the Canadiens bench, I decided it was some sick and twisted combination of the two. Regret began to make itself right at home in my head the second we settled into our seats.

As the two teams make their way out onto the ice to head to their respective benches, the crowd goes wild. The arena fills with the sound of thousands of fans cheering and yelling. However, the sound of my own rapidly beating heart floods my eardrums, replacing the loud screams of the fans, as my eyes drift to him and our gazes interlock.

Arber Xhekaj, defenceman for the Montreal Canadiens of the National Hockey League, known to me as my ex-boyfriend, is staring right at me and there was nowhere I can go to hide.

Once upon a time, he was a man that meant everything to me. He was my whole world. We spent a little over two years in a relationship together, happy and in love. Things were perfect between us, until they weren't. What started as small, petty disagreements that happened here and there became full-on arguments that occurred almost every day. While I was putting in the effort to fix things, he was shutting me out. I pinned all of it on stress and the lack of time we got to spend with each other because of his work and my schooling. I tried to wait it out in hopes that things would return to normal, but eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't see the point in fighting for us if he wasn't willing to do the same. I've spent the past few months trying to move on and forget about him, and I thought I was doing pretty well. That all came crashing down the moment he noticed me. I suddenly became painfully aware that I was still hopelessly in love with him.

The insistent tapping on my arm is what finally pulls me from our impromptu staring contest. When I turn to my left, Mayah is buzzing with excitement.

"Oh my god! Arber Xhekaj is literally staring at you." She squeals. "How are you not freaking out right now? He is six feet and four inches of muscle and manliness. I would climb him like a fucking tree if given the opportunity."

The ending comment causes a pang of jealousy to flare up inside of me. I push it away as quickly as it appears though. I have no right to feel that way anymore, as we are no longer together. It's a feeling that I don't want to feel again, at least not when he is concerned.

Not able to come up with a response, I shrug my shoulders to express a feeling of indifference and turn to face forward as the announcer's voice floods the arena.

• ───────────────────────────── •

Despite the Habs loss to the Maple Leafs, my body is still filled with adrenaline and excitement as I walk out of the arena with Mayah. I had forgotten how much I loved hockey. It was how I met Arber. When things ended between us, I forgot how much I enjoyed watching the game as I tried my hardest to forget him.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me." I respond. "I think that's the most exciting thing I've experienced in a while."

"Anytime." She smiles. "My Uber is here but I'll see you in class on Monday?"

"Yeah, see you Monday." I wave her off as she climbs into the car waiting for her by the curb.

As I wait for my own ride to arrive, I feel my phone buzz in my hand, alerting me of a text.

From Unknown Number: Hey. Can we talk?

Despite there being no name on the contact, I knew exactly who it was from. I'm about to turn my screen off to ignore it when another message comes through.

From Unknown Number: I know you're seeing this.

From Unknown Number: Please

From Unknown Number: I just want to talk.

All it takes is for that fourth and final message to come through for me to make my decision. I type out a short reply just as my Uber arrives.

• ───────────────────────────── •

A couple of hours later, here I am, standing in front of his apartment door. I'm a ball of nerves as I raise my hand to knock on the door. It only takes two knocks for the door to go swinging open and I suddenly find myself standing face-to-face with the man I swore I would never see again.

"Hey." He greets, voice still as deep and mesmerizing as I remember. "Come in."

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I step past him into the apartment I once considered a second home. He closes the door without a word and then leads me into the living room.

"Do you want some water?" He asks as I take a seat on the couch.

"No, thank you." I reply, trying to keep my voice steady in hopes that I can conceal the emotions that are beginning to rise to the surface. "What did you want to talk about? It's late and I can't stay long."

"I-" He begins before quickly cutting himself off, taking a seat on the sofa opposite of me. He sighs heavily and then tries again. "I miss you."

I freeze instantly at the words that leave his mouth. A mixture of shock and anger forms in my chest. "Arber-"

"These past few months have been hell." He continues. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I'm telling the truth."

"I can't do this." My voice wobbles as I speak, tears welling up in my eyes. I stand up, making a move towards the door. "I...I need to leave. I shouldn't have come here."

"Why?" Frustration is evident in his tone as he quickly follows my movements, grasping my hand to stop me from walking any further. "Why can't you just stay and talk to me?"

"Because if I stay, I might do something stupid." I shake my head, trying to clear the racing thoughts that have taken over. "Like..." My voice trails off, not able to finish the sentence as I attempt to get my emotions under control.

"Like what?" He interrupts, inching closer to me.

"Forgive you," I answer, looking him in the eyes for the first time since I arrived. "Because God knows you don't deserve my forgiveness. Not this easily."

"You're right. I don't deserve it," He nods. "But I want it anyway, because I'm selfish and cruel, right?" He punctuates his question with an audible scoff. Throwing my own words from our last argument at me.

"Don't say that like I'm the bad guy." I bite back. "You were the one that pushed me away like I was nothing when I was the only one there for you." My words are bitter. "I've tried so hard to make myself hate you for the way you made me feel. I tried so fucking hard. Instead, I ended up hating myself for failing so miserably. Despite my efforts, I still fucking love you. And it hurts."

My chest is tight and I'm breathing heavily as I fight back the sob that threatens to leave me. His hand grips mine tighter as he opens his mouth to speak.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. I know I fucked up. Treating you like that and letting you walk out that door were two of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in my life." He confesses. "I want you. No, scratch that. I fucking need you. And I'll spend every day for the rest of our lives making up for what I did if that's what it takes."

"I waited for you." I whisper as the dam behind my eyes finally breaks, tears cascading down my cheeks. "For two months, I waited for something to change. For you to change."

"I know." His hands lift to caress my face, thumbs gently brushing away my tears. "And I promise I'll never make you feel like that again. I won't take your love for granted ever again."

"I thought you were falling out of love with me and I couldn't take it anymore."

"Never did I stop loving you." He shook his head, a deep frown etched on his face.

"Then what happened?"

"I was scared. You were getting busier with school and I was beginning to travel more. The longer we spent apart the more I began to question the stability of our relationship. I was afraid that, because of my busy schedule and how often I have to travel for the majority of the year, I wouldn't be able to be the type of boyfriend that you need. That you deserve. I convinced myself that it was only a matter of time before you realized that and as a result, I subconsciously began to push you away."

"You could have just talked to me." I sigh. "We could have figured it out."

"I know." He nods. "I wish I could take it back. I really do. If you would just give me a second chance, I'll do better."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll give you another chance, but if you fuck it up, we're over for good."

"I won't." He shakes his head, hands moving to my waist to pull me into him. "You have my word."

"Good." I smile softly, laying my head on his chest.

The room falls silent as we stand in each other's embrace, taking in the moment. After a few minutes, it's Arber that makes the first move to separate us, but only enough to be able to see my face. He stares silently, lips parted as if he wants to say something.

"What?" I question, noticing his hesitation.

"Can I kiss you?" His right hand moves up to rest on my cheek, angling my head up a little more. It takes less than a second for me to respond.

"Please do."

His lips brush mine softly at first, a brief peck to test the waters. He pulls back slightly to examine my face. I'm not quite sure what he is looking for, but whatever he does or doesn't find has him leaning back in. This kiss is deeper, hungrier, more desperate. We stay like this for a while. Melting into each other. Once the lack of oxygen becomes too much, we finally part. Our foreheads remain pressed together, our eyes still closed as we try to catch out breaths.

"I really fucking missed you." He whispers, our lips brushing with every word he speaks.

"I missed you too." I smile against his lips.

"Stay."

"What?" I pull back slightly and open my eyes to look at him.

"Stay." He repeats. "Stay the night with me. It's late anyways. I don't want you going back on your own. So stay."

I take a few seconds to think it over before I respond, nodding my head. "Okay."

Smiling, he steps out of our embrace and intertwines his fingers with mine, pulling me behind him as he begins to make his way down the familiar path to his bedroom.

#arber xhekaj #arber xhekaj imagine #arber xhekaj x reader #ax72 #arber xhekaj fluff #arber xhekaj angst #arber xhekaj fic #arber xhekaj fanfiction #montreal canadiens #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year

Text

Ruffling Feathers

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x gn!pilot!reader

Masterlist

Summary: "It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass." OR You hated Rooster. And his mustache. ...Until he made it hard to.

Word Count: ~4.6k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers. Arguing. Quite a bit of swearing. Flirting. Jealousy. Depictions of a plane crash and hospital room. Some angst, some comfort, some suggestiveness, and lots of fluff.

*Reader's callsign is Spider

A/n: Guess I just love writing angry!Rooster lol. This one took me a little bit, but I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you for reading <3

Stomping through the corridor, your flight suit pushed down to your waist, you tried calculating how hard you’d have to punch Rooster to knock that ugly mustache off his face —- or at least the stupid smug grin he always wore. Maybe Cyclone would only give you a lecture since you’re doing everyone a favor by shutting Rooster up.

The pain from digging your fingernails into your palm did nothing to distract you from the anger rising through your body. Just when you’d get the fastest time on the team, there he’d be climbing from his plane with a time just barely beating yours. You’d answer one of Cyclone’s questions in class only for Rooster to correct you on the most insignificant detail — all with that shit-eating smile.

He was a careful pilot, one that didn’t always act on impulse. But he threw all of that out the window when it came to you, clogging the comms with his amused comments to throw you off concentration. You didn’t take that lying down, either.

But today, the back-and-forth bickering came with a cost. He’d been in the middle of throwing an insult your way, even though you were on the same team, when Coyote shouted through the comms at him.

“You’re down.”

His only response came with a string of swears.

Phoenix quickly followed with, “Got you too, Spider” as she locked onto your jet too. Her words had you dropping your head back against the seat, realizing Rooster came last with you just barely above him.

All that fighting had thrown you off, making both of your flying sloppy. You told him as much on the tarmac as you both completed 100 push ups for coming out at the bottom. As a burn bled through your arms, you considered strangling Rooster. Maybe when he wasn’t looking, like in the shower. Not that you often thought of him showering.

But now, walking toward the locker room, your anger began to subside — despite the sweat dripping along the side of your face and your aching arms. But any hope for peace shattered when you rounded the corner, nearly bumping into Rooster.

A scowl immediately overtook your expression as you stepped back, taking in his form — already clean and sweat-free. It only fueled the explosive fire inside you. “Watch where you’re going, Bradshaw,” you told him.

“You should’ve listened to that advice in the air today, sweetheart,” Rooster shot back, his gaze locked on you. He had slicked back his hair, the ends of it still dripping wet.

You crossed your arms, accidentally making your slick skin stick together. “Oh, eat shit. You sabotaged me on purpose today.”

“Oh, so trying to save your ass is sabotage now?” He lifted an eyebrow, that frustrating glint in his eyes.

“God, you just never shut up, do you? Clearly, ‘saving my ass’ didn’t work, did it? And maybe if you stopped talking for one minute, I could actually focus on flying instead of wishing my plane would ram into yours.”

“Me?” Rooster nearly shouted, his jaw ticking. He stepped just an inch closer when you nodded as if it were obvious. “You’re the one that kept saying I couldn’t fly for shit, and look who actually can’t.”

“It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass. And that was only because you kept calling me an asshole,” you told him, now pointing a finger right into his chest.

He scoffed at you. “Oh, and I wonder why I’d ever say something like that, Spider.”

With how close his face was to yours now, you could pick out the pool of colors in his eyes or count the freckles across his tanned cheeks. And before another retort could come to mind, the sound of someone coming toward the two of you echoed from the other end of the hall.

You broke away from him, telling yourself that your quickened pulse came from how infuriated Rooster made you. “Whatever,” you muttered, sidestepping him and making the rest of the walk to the locker room, your heart in your throat the entire way.

Ripping your flight suit off and finally getting clean, even with shaky arms, you finally took a slow breath. Your fingers rubbed down your face as water from the showerhead dripped along your body. You scrubbed until your skin grew angry with you — but you just let the water wash away the day, the setbacks, and any thoughts of Rooster, promising yourself that you wouldn’t let him get the better of you again.

And you’d kept your word for a little bit, biting your tongue when he tried to get under your skin. Turning the other way when Hangman joined it to revel in the teasing. Instead, you let Phoenix rip him to shreds when they got on her nerves too. Things quieted down even — hallway spats became silent head nods as you passed one another. You’d call that a win, especially since his mouth stayed shut.

It certainly became easier to tune him out when flying, just focusing on you and the plane speeding through the air. Hangman gave an instigating laugh, but all you saw was the course to run. Breathe in, breathe out. You were a good pilot.

And when you came back down, Cyclone congratulated you on getting the fastest time of the day. You nearly waited for the inevitable “But…” that followed after Rooster, but it never came. Instead, you were met with a pat on the back from Bob and Phoenix and no extra push ups for the day.

Your body felt lighter as you walked to the locker room, back to your room, and even all the way to The Hard Deck. Fresh and wearing clothes that actually fit well, you entered arm-in-arm with Phoenix to the bar.

You two ordered drinks, chatting with Penny as the place grew busier as the night passed along. She quickly became too distracted to keep talking, but you just sipped on your drink, enjoying the good mood. More pilots arrived, giving you the chance to talk with them in between turns at the pool table.

Coyote even convinced Bob to a game, goading the rest of you into placing bets. The laughter and smiles between everyone brought a glow to your vision. You and Phoenix were the only ones to bet on Bob winning, but it was worth it for his wide grin.

And despite Rooster also showing up, in that horrible Hawaiian shirt of his, you still managed to avoid him and keep civil. He didn’t even try to instigate anything — though that didn’t stop you from looking away any time he caught your eyes on him. But the competitive game going on proved distraction enough.

Coming down to the final shot, the game had every pilot leaning in. Several of them threw comments out to distract Bob as he lined up his shot. But a smile broke out on your face as Bob sunk the 8 ball, beating Coyote, and leaving both of them with looks of complete disbelief.

You threw up your hands, clapping louder than all the booing. Others eventually joined in despite their losing bets, cheering for Bob’s unexpected victory. The way Coyote shook his head had you giggling until your stomach hurt.

You gave a congratulatory pat on Bob’s shoulder as you thanked him for the money he won you. Collecting the pool of cash along with Phoenix, you told her, “Going to head to the bar, spend my winnings on another drink.”

She gave you a smile before you weaved through the crowd. Over the cheers and music, you asked Penny for another drink as you counted up your winnings. Plenty happy with the amount, you waited, turning around and resting your body back against the bar’s edge. The bubbling warmth never left your body when you hung out like this. Though a voice to your side broke you from the moment.

“You can put that drink on my tab, actually. Thanks.”

Turning, you were met with a handsome man you hadn’t seen here before. As Penny handed you your drink, you gave her a gracious nod.

“Thank you, um…”

“Will,” he answered for you with a smile. And he certainly did have a nice smile. “To celebrate your victory.” He nodded toward the pool table, raising a beer to your drink.

“Well, he did all the work,” you laughed, leaning forward just an inch, though it was enough to pick up on the comforting scent coming from Will. You happily took a sip along with him.

“But you were smart enough to bet on him.”

A smile broke out on your face, gesturing out a hand as you said, “See! Finally, someone recognizes my gambling prowess.”

He bit back a grin of his own as he leaned his head in closer. His finger pointed toward the pool table again as he asked, “Alright, so since you’re an expert, who’s going to win the next one?”

You felt the heat of his body radiating onto you. The waves of it proved slightly distracting as you saw Hangman and Fanboy racking up the pool balls. Still staring at them, trying to hold back the warmth rushing to your cheeks, you said, “Tall, blond one definitely. He’ll cheat if he has to.”

“Okay, I won’t be going up against him then,” he laughed.

You turned back to Will, watching him run a hand through his dark hair. Did you wish your hand was going through his hair? Probably.

He then asked, “Since you know how to pick winners, what are the odds of you beating me in pool?”

Raising your eyebrows, you told him, “Never seen you play, but I’d have to guess that you’d sink two in before I win.”

Lifting up his hands in surrender, Will shook his head. “Fair enough. I won’t put money on the line for that game. But…” he said, dragging his eyes across you, “what are the odds, then, of me taking you out sometime?”

You tried fighting the grin etching along your face at his cheesiness, not that you minded all that much when it came with that smile. As you were about to respond, the last person you wanted to see snuggled right up to your side.

“Hey Spider, Phoenix’s been asking for you,” Rooster said. His arm rested against the bar right behind your back, the weight of it along your spine.

You looked between him and Will, your teeth grinding together. “I’m sure she can wait a minute, Bradshaw.”

“Said it was important,” he insisted, smiling the entire time at the two of you.

“Fine,” you muttered, offering a fake grin to Rooster. “I’ll be right back,” you told Will.

You pushed past Rooster, weaving through the crowd once again with your fist clenched. Of course he had to show up. You shook your head, willing yourself to keep him from getting to you.

Back with the team, you came back to find Hangman in the lead against Fanboy and quickly returned to Phoenix.

“Hey, what’s up? What’s going on?” you asked, hoping something terrible wasn’t happening.

But she sat there, beer in hand and a wide smile until she processed your words. “Just watching them play. What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “Does it have to do with that hunk chatting you up over there… Oh, where’d he go?”

Your face twisted as you turned, standing on the tips of your toes and straining your neck to see over everyone. Right where you and Will had been was now occupied by strangers, the man nowhere to be seen. But you did find Rooster as he walked back toward your team.

“No goddamn way.” You muttered it under your breath, your face dropping in disbelief. “Hold this, I’m going to kick Bradshaw’s ass,” you told Phoenix. The blood rushing through you pounded in your ears, blocking out anything she might’ve said.

“Where is he?” you asked, venom laced in your voice as you walked up to Rooster. The laidback hang of his shoulders and that dumb fucking mustache nearly made you scream your words at him.

But Rooster just raised an eyebrow at you, holding his beer. “Where’s who?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take a breath. “Will. The man I was talking with before you interrupted, remember?”

“Ah, right. He left, had to go somewhere.”

“God, Rooster. What did you say to him?” you asked, shoving a finger into his chest. “Though I don’t know why I’m asking since you’ll probably lie like you did about Phoenix.” You crossed your arms, squeezing them against your body.

Rooster sighed, bringing his beer up to his mouth to take a sip.

“Look, I’ve seen him around here before. Goes home with someone different every time.”

Scoffing at him, you stared daggers through his eyes. “You’re so full of bullshit. Even if that is true, I can find that out for myself, okay? You’re not my dad or something.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to save you from getting your feelings hurt,” he said, pretending to put his hands in the air like he was innocent. “God knows how bad we’d crash and burn if your heartbroken ass did worse up there.”

You stepped back, feeling like he knocked the air from your lungs. Pushing past him, your shoulder hitting his, you left The Hard Deck — not even to find Will. You couldn’t handle either of them right now, not when you had to deal with Rooster ruining your night while pretending to care about you.

After that, for your sake, you’d made it your mission to stay away from him as much as possible. You refused to acknowledge his comments or even look his way. Classes were quieter, and insults were no longer thrown across the halls at each other. At least you wouldn’t be misplacing your trust again.

You had other teammates you could rely on, could trust with your life. But either fate hated you or Cyclone loved drama because he paired you up with Bradley Bradshaw once again — as if the universe and the class had to have another laugh at your misery. You just nodded your head at Cyclone as he named the two of you off, standing so still as if it could help you disappear.

Talking rose again as duos came together to discuss the practice exercise. But not the two of you. Your hard stare just fixated on the horizon. Even hearing him clear his throat set your body on edge.

“I’m, uh, sorry for how last weekend went,” Rooster offered, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, not needing it to cause a lecture from Cyclone on how to work with your teammates. Your refusal to give an answer left a space of buzzing silence, one that Rooster filled again. “Didn’t mean to sabotage it, but I’m not letting a dickhead mess with my friends, alright?”

“Friends?” you asked, finally turning to look at him. “Is that what we are, Rooster?”

“Look, we’re on a team. We watch each other’s backs.”

A scoff escaped under your breath. “Oh, like when you got the both of us killed the last time we were on a team?”

As the words left your lips, Rooster placed his hand on your shoulder. The grip made you look at him straight, the sound of everyone else drifting to the background. “I never tried to sabotage you up there. I really tried to save your life. Okay?” His fingers squeezed when you didn’t answer. “Okay?”

With scrunched eyebrows, you said, “Okay, fine. Doesn’t mean you don’t flood the comms with useless talking to distract me, though.”

As his hand dropped back to his side, he raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh, so I’m distracting to you?” And there it was, that Bradshaw smug grin back in place. A small part of you in the back of your mind, or the left side of your chest, had missed it.

You weakly pushed against his arm, shaking your head. “I’m going to rip your mustache off.”

Cyclone called you all to start the exercise, the two of you among the first up. As you walked to your jets, Rooster said, “Oh, so you’re thinking about my mustache now? I understand, she is a beauty.”

You let out a long groan while fighting back a smile, which he absolutely saw through, before pulling on your helmets. Climbing into the plane and strapping in, you let the few moments of silence before flying into the sky center yourself again — to not let Rooster, good or bad, get in your head.

It was a regular dogfighting exercise, one that’d become part of the curriculum since Maverick came through. But it’d be you and Rooster against Hangman and Payback.

In the air, before it even began, in the buzzing quiet before it all descended into chaos, Hangman flew past you much too close for comfort. It shook your jet, making you let out a long sigh. You looked to your side, watching Rooster give you a thumbs up before Cyclone appeared in the comms.

“First team to get a lock on both members of the other team wins. That easy,” he told you all.

That easy. They were good pilots, you all were. It’d be a long fight.

Immediately, you and Rooster split off in opposite directions. He climbed higher toward Hangman as you dropped, aiming for Payback’s jet.

Payback broke left, rolling his plane to the side as he evaded you. The world around you, the wispy clouds and landscape below, blurred past. Each time you came close to locking on, he’d pitch up or hit the throttle — always keeping you just out of reach.

“Spider, Hangman’s closing in on your six,” Rooster said through the comms.

In an instant, all of your focus on trying to eliminate Payback now switched to evading in any way you could.

“Almost got you now, Spider…” you could hear Hangman say. Your jaw clenched, your muscles squeezing harder with each passing second.

Braking hard, you rolled right toward the nearby cliffs, trying to keep him from locking on. You gained altitude with the little time you had of shaking Hangman for just a second, flying back around until you saw Payback in your view again.

If you went for him, Hangman would certainly be back on you in an instant.

But Rooster’s voice hit your ears. “Go for it.”

With those three little words, you threw your trust into Rooster. You sped up, diving for Payback and leaving Rooster to cover you. And he did. Without a second thought.

“Got lock.”

“You’re down!”

Your voice mixed with Hangman’s, two simultaneous kills. Hangman left Payback at your mercy. Rooster sacrificed himself to Hangman.

“See you back at base, Spider. Give him hell,” Rooster said, his jet peeling off and heading in the opposite direction alongside Payback’s.

You pulled up, looking all around for Hangman — until he showed up on your radar just below you.

“It’s almost too easy,” he drawled with that lazy laugh.

Hitting the brakes, you pulled behind him. Just as you angled down, close to locking on, he rolled left, pitching the plane up and trying to loop behind you.

The two of you switched back and forth, the unrelenting sun piercing through the glass. Sweat began to bead along your forehead, dripping down to your neck.

Only once you’d chased Hangman toward the cliffs did you gain any sort of hope of taking him down. His flying became just a bit more reckless, giving you a chance to counter his maneuvers. Your lock grew closer and closer to his jet, your victory on the tip of your tongue.

The lock sound began to buzz as you said, “Got y-”

Your plane shook as something rammed into your plane. Only once Hangman’s voice shouting “Bird strike!” did you register what happened.

The damage done to your jet’s engines appeared at once, the jerking of your jet ate down to your core.

“Left engine out,” you panted, pressing the button to cut fuel to it as you tried gaining altitude. Your body felt heavy, falling back into the seat with panicked breaths. The right engine quickly caught too, leaving your dashboard blinking every warning light it could manage. Your stomach climbed into your throat as you lost control, the plane beginning to spin out.

Your hands shakily wrapped around the ejection handle, your lungs feeling squeezed tight. Pulling as hard as you could, your seat flew from the jet. Between the jerk of your body as the parachute released and the fiery crash of your plane into the ground a few moments later, you barely saw anything before hitting the desert all too fast.

You vaguely remembered rolling, or maybe the world was spinning, before you were consumed by darkness.

–

In flashes of memories, you caught the intense whirring of a helicopter, vague shapes of people rushing around you, and… was that Rooster? You couldn’t be sure, not when the pain took hold of your body, pulling you down under again.

–

The echoing emergency alarms of your jet slowly bled into the beeping of medical machines, the light of the sun into bright fluorescents above, and the lingering voice of your team… stayed.

As your eyes fought to open, the world came into focus in bits and pieces. Your throat felt so dry and painful — but it left your mind when the aching of the rest of your body rose to the surface. The groan tumbling from your mouth only fueled the sting.

But he did help, ready at your side and telling you to take it easy.

“Hey, Spider. Slow down. Hey,” Rooster pleaded, his voice desperate against your ears. But only once his hand gingerly wrapped around yours did you finally stop fighting.

You turned to look at him, mind still fuzzy. But it wasn’t hard to focus on him, your gaze unable to rip away from the dark honey of his eyes.

“Hi.” His whisper entwined around each curve of you, settling onto your skin like a blanket you never wanted to take off.

You grabbed the cup of water he handed you, gulping it down until it soothed your throat.

“Hi,” you finally returned, offering a slight smile. Laying back in the bed, feeling the slight pull of the tubes attached to your body, you asked, “So, what’s my damage?”

Your head lulled to the side, watching Rooster slightly relax at last. The clench of his jaw eased, his shoulders fell.

“Nothing that could stop you. Fractured bone here, internal bleeding there…” he joked, but his grin didn’t reach his eyes. “But you’re alive. You’ll be just fine.”

That eased your nagging thoughts, though you guessed he said it for himself as much as he said it for you.

You squeezed his hand, loving the weight of it on yours. “Thank you.”

He nearly rolled his eyes, as if to say that he didn’t deserve it. “For what?” he asked, the taste of bitterness dripping from his words.

“For having my back, Rooster.”

You said it like it was the most obvious thing. It was to you. Even though he didn’t always show it in the way you’d expect, or even like for that manner, he was there.

He nodded. “You’d do the same for me.”

You would. In a heartbeat.

He whispered, “We all heard you on the radio as it happened. I made them let me on the helicopter to rescue you… Thought you were gone. Couldn’t handle it.” His hand rested over his mouth, his eyes fixed on the ground.

“I’m here, okay? You said it, I’ll be just fine,” you told him, wanting to pull him in if you weren’t stuck in this bed. But then his words registered. “Wait, you forced yourself onto the rescue helicopter? Are you insane?”

You smacked his arm, scoffing at him. You teased him, but it brought a smile to his face.

“That’s what you got from that? Okay, this is the last time I admit to caring about you,” he said behind a wave of laughter bubbling out.

Though all it did was further fuel you, bringing a disbelieving look to your face. “Oh my god, Rooster. I get it now. You were totally jealous of Will.”

“Oh god, why would I be jealous of that tool?” he groaned, pulling away from you. “I think your pain meds are too strong.”

“Calling him a tool like that is such a jealous thing to say!”

“Not if he’s actually a tool.”

You brought your hands to your lap, playing with the sheet as you said, “Wow, who would’ve thought that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw actually cared abou-”

“I know you didn’t have to do those push ups with me, Spider,” he interrupted. He looked straight at you then, not even fighting his kind smile. “That punishment was only for last place, and you didn’t get last.”

You pursed your lips, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, trying to give him an innocent look. But you did, and you knew that he had gotten last trying to save you, even when the two of you bickered, so you paid the price with him.

His eyes softened. “I think you do. And I think that you also care more than you let on.”

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as Rooster grabbed your hand again, his thumb rubbing along the backs of your fingers. You stared down at where your bodies intertwined as you asked, “Did you really wait here for me the whole time?”

He nodded, his swept-back hair falling forward. But at your growing smile, he warned, “Spider, don’t ruin this.”

“You’re just a big ol’ softy, aren’t you? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like like me.” You laughed despite the ache that came with it. It meant you were alive, after all.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he said, “I think that’s enough. You’ve ruined it. Happy now?”

“Quite.”

After a comfortable silence spread through the room, just the sounds of your breathing and the machines beeping, Rooster said, “I do like you. Hope you know that.”

The flutter in your chest spread through your body, pushing the pain to the back to be replaced by a floating feeling. You didn’t think it would take so much for Rooster to admit his feelings, but you supposed it didn’t surprise you.

He looked to you, worry etched into the curves of his face as he waited for your response. It barely looked like he breathed, sitting frozen still until you answered.

Shaking your head, you told him, “Rooster, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m really going to rip off your mustache this time.”

A wide, toothy grin overtook his face. “There you go again about my mustache… You’re obsessed, aren’t you?” he said, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.

Rooster inched closer, careful to not put any weight on you or cause any pain. “Is this okay?” he whispered against your lips.

But impatience ran through you, making you twist your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him against you. Melting into him, you thought this felt better than any painkillers the doctors could prescribe you. It made you dizzy and craving more, until you were broken apart by Phoenix obnoxiously clearing her throat from the doorway.

As he kissed you one more time, the rest of the world drifting away, you couldn’t quite say you hated his mustache anymore.

@reidslovely

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #rooster x reader #tgm

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kkaewrites · 11 months

Text

real or not real — nagi seishiro x reader !

warnings. indecent language, ooc nagi.

tropes. meet-ugly, enemies to lovers.

you hate nagi seishiro.

he was stone cold, often referred to as socially awkward— but you feel like those were just excuses to make up for his rude and nasty behavior. personally, you think he’s overrated just because he’s considered a soccer genius. of course, no one ever believes you. they think your hatred clouds your judgement (it obviously does not).

you first met him when you were in grade school, deskmates for the first day of class. he was shorter than you at that time, but aside from his height, everything about him stayed the same. he still has the same gunmetal gray eyes that’s either reflected with boredom or reflected by the screen of his gray nintendo gameboy. he still has the same white hair, as clean as the first drop of snow, but as wild as a lion’s mane.

to you, there was absolutely nothing about him that’s fascinating— he was the same as any average boy. playing mobile games was his favorite past time, so much so that you believed that it was his lifeline at one point. or so you’d assume. he always kept to himself and was left to his own devices (quite literally), most things that kids enjoy don’t seem to pique his interest. you guess those were the reasons why he didn’t have many friends.

no, scratch that— he didn’t have any friends.

at first you wondered why. if there’s one thing you noticed about him even at a very young age, it’s that he’s handsome. he doesn’t have to be the “rich kid” with amazing gadgets and fancy toys, or the “cool kid” who knows what right words to say and way to say it, but he’s nagi. he was conventionally attractive without even trying. however, that fact doesn’t seem to make up for the fact that he looks lonely.

so, you’ve devised a plan to talk to him.

“hey. sei-chan, wanna be my friend?” you’re everyone’s friend. the sunshine child, the one who always lends her classmate crayons or pencils, the kid with pigtails who smile at strangers for no reason. you’re the kid that everyone loves, and if by some miracle, someone hates you (which has never happened and will never happen)— everyone would simply take your side. you’re loved by all.

if nagi was shocked by your sudden proposal, his features didn’t show any signs of it. what he does is pause his current game and faces you. it’s the first time you’ve ever stared at him eye-to-eye. your heart jumps.

uh oh. is this what they call a crush?

eyes filled with hope, you patiently waited for nagi’s response. you expected him to utter “sure” wearing his usual monotone voice, but it doesn’t come. and what he says instead ruins you. your heart does a somersault and tumbles, crashing onto the pavement and breaking into tiny, gliterring pieces. it did not feel good.

“no thanks. i despise people like you.”

you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong at that very moment. maybe you were too blunt, too cheery, too whatever — just something too much to be able to upset someone like nagi seishiro, who doesn’t feel strongly about anything or anyone. you didn’t have the courage to ask him what you’ve done wrong because your vision blurs. you always reckoned that it was due to anger, but your mother who saw you run home with tear-streaked cheeks says otherwise.

you still don’t know how you managed to piss off nagi, even until your very first year of college. after grade school, you never saw him again. you heard he studied at some prestigious high school but that was the end of it, you never really asked because you had no interest whatsoever. you somehow managed to assure yourself that there was no way you’d ever cross paths with him once again— so why is he here?

why, of all places, would he be your deskmate for your politics class?

at this point, you thought maybe the gods above despised you, too. did they hate you enough to not only be schoolmates, not only be classmates with this man, but to be deskmates? hate is the only logical explanation for this fucked-up coincidence. you’re not keen on fates or invisible strings so you’re sure this was just a punishment for you.

oh god. you hate it so much. you hate him so much.

without a word, you took the seat right next to him, taking the opportunity while he’s sound asleep. you’re not sure why he would take politics as his subject, because as far as you know about him, all he ever cares about is his mobile games. maybe soccer as well, but that’s not exactly related to politics, either.

when the professor enters the class, you found no reason to wake him up. he could get screamed at for all you care, but there was no way you’d ever converse with him at your own accord. because the only way you’d ever survive sitting next to him for the whole semester is by not acknowledging him at all. you can do that. you can avoid talking or looking at him. he’s not that talkative (and he’s not even awake) to begin with.

until your plan crashes and burns.

he turns out to be your partner for a school project— a big one, at that. you considered going solo, but the whole point of the project is to make sure two people are working together. it was a community development kind of plan, so unless he works with you and you work with him, you’d be getting an F for your politics class. that, you can’t have. even if it meant talking to him and enduring his presence.

he wakes up right after the class ended and you could barely contain your scoff. he sat through the whole 2 hour lecture just like that, does he have no care for his grades? doesn’t matter. it’s none of your business if he fails, that simply means that you won’t see him much anymore (which is a win for you).

you sighed. he should’ve been paired with someone else. why did it have to be you? why did it have to be your deskmate? and why did he have to be your deskmate? it was too much. how could you ever work with someone you hate? with someone who hates you?

you’re going to fail politics. you’re 100% sure of that. there was just no way that you’d ever accomplish this task— or you could beg your professor to let you switch partners. or you could ask your classmates to let you switch... but who would ever want someone as lazy as nagi to be their partner? fuck.

from the corner of your eye, you saw nagi yawn. it took all of you to swallow your pride whole and gulp it down to ever approach him, but it’s better than not trying. if you fail, at least you tried. even if it meant battling your inner demons.

so, clutching your bag straps tightly as if it would ever help, you turned to your sleepy deskmate. “nagi. it seems like we’re partners for the politics subject. i’m expecting you’d cooperate willingly so that—”

“sorry,” he interrupts with half lidded eyes. “do i know you?”

“you’re going to rip your paper to shreds.” nagi commented from behind you, peering over your shoulder as you aggressively wrote on your notebook. you imagined the page to be nagi’s face as you cruelly stabbed it, not caring about your pen or your paper’s state. you cannot believe that for some reason, you’re still stuck with the snow white haired guy. you’ve tried everything there is to get rid of him but nothing seemed to work.

“right,” your teeth could break with how hard you clenched your jaw. “will you be free later?”

“oh. i have soccer training.”

of course he fucking has soccer training.

you gave him the strongest deadpan you could muster before exhaling a deep breath. once to calm yourself down, twice to clear your head and thrice in hopes of losing all of your lungs’ air so you could shrivel and die on the spot. nagi seems to be unaware of your thoughts— and even if he had understood your facial expression and body language, he simply did not care.

“i’ll be free after, though.” he adds, as if you’d ever know that information if he hasn’t uttered it. this at least gives you the sense that he might care about the group project, and that he won’t be a complete inconvenience.

“okay. let’s meet up at the coffee shop near school. will you be done at 8?”

“yeah. but,” he pauses. “i thought we’d just do the project at my place.”

“who died and made you king?” you blurt out before you could think of a proper response. you wondered if you’d ever feel so strongly about a person the same way you did for nagi. he was driving you mad.

“what?” his clueless face almost made you feel guilt— almost. but you ignored the sensation and frowned instead. the least you could do was give him a clearer sentence:

“there’s no way i’d ever step a foot at your house.”

“it’s fine. no one’s home anyway.”

“that’s even worse.”

“huh? oh. don’t worry. you’re not my type.”

the conversations you somehow hold with nagi infuriates you. he has this way of making you feel like shit for some reason, and he does it with so much nonchalance you’d wonder if he insults everyone. but you know better and you know he definitely doesn’t, because you’re the only one he treats like this. it’s the absolute worst.

what does he mean you’re not his type? were you not pretty enough? not tall enough? not skinny enough? not fair enough? not what? ever since grade school, you’ve always thought that he sees you as someone “too much” and yet as he stands here with you, in an empty classroom— you wondered how you could be “too much” and yet be “not enough” at the same time.

and since when did you care about how he views you? since you were kids, apparently. because the words he would utter up until this day shatters you all the same. and you hate him— so goddamn much. but beyond all that anger, there’s grief. it doesn’t subside even as you grabbed all your things and shoved 6”3 foot tall nagi aside.

for some reason, he shows up at the café you mentioned at exactly 8 o’clock in the evening. you were typing away on your laptop, while a cup of caramel macchiato and a bunch of scattered papers littered your desk. you didn’t expect him to come, and it would’ve been better if he didn’t. but somehow, he’s here and he looks a little apologetic.

“are you upset?” he asks. his sports bag slumped over his shoulder as he stands right next to you. there’s an unoccupied seat in front but he doesn’t take it— at least, not yet. his whole, undivided attention was poured onto you and you alone. it makes you squirm in your seat, so you decided not to look up from your screen to greet him.

“no. take a seat.”

“you look upset.”

“do you want me to be upset?”

“no.”

“then shut up.”

wordlessly, he takes the seat right in front of you and slouches. he looks battered and fatigued from practice, but he doesn’t say a word to complain (to your absolute shock). you guessed that he walked straight from the field to the café without even changing or taking a shower, because his clothes clung to him like a shirt a few sizes smaller.

“shouldn’t you go change?”

“yeah. but i left my clean clothes at my apartment.”

fifteen minutes pass and you suddenly closed your laptop shut, eyes fixated on nagi’s gunmetal gray ones. he looks surprised from your sudden move, a look that you didn’t expect to recognize due to how miniscule it was. you felt bad for him. the café was getting too cold for comfort and all he wore was his jersey (one that’s drenched with his sweat). if you stayed any longer, he’d probably catch a cold.

why you care, however, that was not a question you could currently answer.

“let’s just go to your place.”

despite his constant need to laze around, his place wasn’t a complete mess— well, yes, there are (presumably dirty) clothes on the floor and used dishes on the sink, but you’ve seen worse. you expected his apartment to be so much worse. it seems like he’s not a complete monkey to not understand basic hygiene and cleanliness.

your only problem is that nagi seems to be bored. you caught him dozing off the coffee table as you ramble about your politics project, and you don’t even have to ask if he cares at all— because he’s trying to hide his obvious distate and boredom. so, even though you’d rather proceed to do your work rather than humoring this 6 foot tall giant, you pipe up:

“wanna play a game?”

“what game? i don’t like games that require effort.”

“it’s called real or not real. we take turns in guessing if the other person’s sentence is real or not real.”

“sounds like a pain.” he groans.

“you know what truly is a pain?” you turned to look at him. “this politics project. so take it or leave it. i’m kind enough to give you a break.”

“shouldn’t we play a different game? a mobile game, maybe.”

“what about a wager, then? the winner’s the boss.”

the game was a piece of cake— to you, at least. nagi’s an open book and it’s easy to read him. you explained that the mechanics goes like this: you take turns in giving very specific sentences about yourself, and the other party has to guess whether it’s real or not real. five wrong guesses means that the other person wins. so the only thing you have to do is to make sure that nagi loses first.

unfortunately, you were down to four mistakes while nagi only had one. the game wasn’t going like how you imagined it would be. how were you supposed to know that nagi keeps a cactus as a pet? how were you supposed to know that he only figured out how to play soccer when he was in high school? how were you supposed to know that he’s got a picture of his crush under his study table? (you still had no idea who that crush is, and it quite literally shocked you). how were you supposed to know that someone like nagi seishiro, was capable of liking someone romantically?

on the other hand, out of the six sentences you threw at him— he had only guessed wrong once. you don’t know how he’s so good at this game, too. it was either he knew awfully a lot about you, or was really good at second guessing things. you’re pretty sure it was the former. how could he know a lot about you, when he doesn’t even know your name?

“real or not real: i hate you.” you stated. his nonchalance was putting you off, but you’re not sure if you were uneasy because of it or if you felt guilty for saying that sentence out loud. you told yourself you could just take it back and act as if it’s not real but nagi himself looked so convinced when he said:

“real.”

he was right once again. but you didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whole thing when his sentence comes.

“real or not real: i want to kiss you right now.”

the silence was so loud it pierces your ears— or maybe you have gone deaf with that sentence. you’re not sure of anything at the moment because it feels like your senses were slowly slipping from your own fingers. if nagi was joking, his face didn’t show any signs of him laughing soon. but maybe you should know better, maybe he could joke like that with a straight face.

so you waited for a few minutes, for him to tell you that it was a joke— that it’s not part of the goddamn game because how could it be part of it? but nothing comes. his eyes were simply on you as he patiently awaits your answer. your make it or break it answer, at that. and it only dawns on you that this is real, this is his sentence and he’s expecting you to play. he’s expecting you to answer real or not real. because you were the one who proposed the game in the first place.

you wanted to scream and to run away, but you were rooted on the spot. time stood still and it froze you under nagi’s unblinking gunmetal gray eyes, as if the situation’s not bad at all. but this is a trick question, your rational mind says. he told you when you were younger that he despises people like you, asked you if he knows you upon meeting at your politics class, and told you that you’re not exactly his type— so there’s no way he’d want to kiss you. right?

you meet his gaze. right, nagi?

against your better judgement to think it through, you suddenly blurted: “real.”

his face doesn’t shift and nor did the mood of the room. your heart was beating erratically as if you’re not facing the guy you clearly hated with a passion, but the silence ensues. you were screaming at yourself, why the fuck did you say real? were you out of your goddamned mind? were you crazy? the answer’s clearly not real!

nagi, however, only looks away. “huh.”

“what?”

“i almost won. what a pity.”

“the answer’s real?”

“yeah.” he tilts his head and answers as if you were stupid. as if you were the one who’s weird and doesn’t get what’s happening— but maybe that really is the case. because you’re mind hasn’t caught up yet. what does he mean the answer’s real? does that mean he wants to kiss you, right now? how is that possible after all the things he had said to you?

you laugh. not the quiet giggle or the chuckle you were accustomed to doing, but a belly laugh— one that could rival a hyena’s. because this was funny. too funny. he’s definitely joking and you’ve only figured out that now.

“okay, fine. you got me.”

“what do you mean?”

“the joke. you’re so serious that i almost missed it.”

confusion marrs his face. “what joke?”

“about the kiss.”

“i wasn’t joking.”

“well, i’d rather have you joking than for that sentence to be real.”

“you hate me that much?”

he almost sounds hurt, but you knew better. how could he be hurt, out of all people? if there’s anyone who’s hurt, it would be you. how can he say all those hurtful things with so much nonchalance and tell you things like he wants to kiss you? how cruel must he be to toy with you like this? it was not funny. none of this was funny.

and it reminds you of your childhood— of your little crush on nagi that never seemed to go away. somehow, the little you screams that you should not fall for something like this. that it is easier to hate nagi than to love him. that it is easier to stand up from your seat, smile, and tell him: “yeah. i do.”

it has been a week. maybe two. or three? you’ve lost count. you’ve never visisted nagi again after the whole real or not real game, and you never saw him often because he’s been excused. something about soccer championship that you didn’t bother listening to. besides, you liked the comfortable silence now that he’s not around.

your phone dings. and it’s from an unknown number. but somehow, you guessed it has something to do with nagi.

unknown

real or not real: i’m sorry

oh. that’s right. the game technically hasn’t finished yet because no one has won. you told yourself numerous time that you won’t reply to his message, but against your better judgement, you somehow still did.

you

real

when your class ended, nagi seishiro was right outside. he was panting and sweaty— as if he ran just to get where you were. but this is nagi we’re talking about. there’s no way he’d actually do something like that, despite his lingering look on you. what’s that supposed to mean, anyway?

breathless, he speaks up to catch your attention. you were busy stuffing your books inside your locker, back against him as you completely ignored his presence. you did not say hi. you did not meet his gaze. but even without direct contact, your heart was drumming against your rib just by knowing that he’s near. what the heck.

“we won the game.”

there’s a lot of responses that entered your mind at that very moment. entry #1, who asked? entry #2, who cares? entry #3, why are you telling me this? and the list goes on. you’re pretty sure none of them were positive— but this was all so confusing. why was nagi chasing after you like a lost puppy who lost its mom? what’s he going for here?

“that’s good for you.” you slammed your locker shut and walked away. nagi eventually follows after you, as if there’s something in his throat that he wants to let out, but you didn’t give him the chance to. you’re sure nothing that would come out of his mouth is good. you’re sure he’s running after you because of the politics project, or because he wants to annoy you.

and you hate it. you hate him. your gut twists at the thought of him running after you like this is some shoujo manga and that’s the annoying part. how is your heart flipping with your every waking step if you hate him so much? you’re supposed to hate nagi, god fucking damn it.

you finally stop in your tracks, whipping around to face the 6 foot tall soccer player. to get it all over with.

“is there something you need to tell me?”

“we haven’t finished the game.”

“i don’t care about the game. leave me alone.”

“it’s your turn. your real or not real.”

this was stupid no matter what angle you look at it. it was just some game you made up and decided to try with nagi. it didn’t mean anything to you because all you wanted by then was to get his attention, so why did it matter so much to him? you don’t get it. you’re not sure how nagi circuits because everything he does confuses you. and before you know it, your irrational side takes over. reason left your body when you blurted the words:

“stop it. fucking stop this.”

why are you so persistent?

“was it fun to toy with me? was it fun when you told me you despised me when we were kids? was it fun when you told me i was not your type? i don’t fucking get it.”

you were angry. mad. seething. your blood boiled underneath your skin and you feared that it would leave your whole being in nothing but dust. through it all, you’re also confused. perplexed. lost. your mind can’t understand the fine line between hate and love anymore. your feelings overlap with each other and merges— you’re not sure what you’re feeling now. you’ve wondered how long you’ve buried this string of emotions you’ve had for nagi. that would explain why you’re nothing but a ticking time bomb now.

“if my playing with my feelings give you so much fun— then do it elsewhere. i have no time for things like this, nagi.”

“but i’m not playing, though. i’ve liked you for quite awhile now.”

excuse me?

“oops. i accidentally gave the answer to my next sentence. what a pain,” he scratches the nape of his nexk and looks away.

how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that?

“do you expect me to believe you?”

“i’ve got no reason to lie,” he shrugs. “plus, lying’s a pain. i don’t like it.”

“but— what you said back then...”

“i, well. i go blank when i talk to you. i guess. my stomach flips when you’re around and my throat goes dry.” nagi doesn’t look at you once while he utters this. tinge of red coats the tip of his ears and this is where you think ‘this is it’. he’s not lying. this is real, and you know that much— nagi never looked nervous until now. you think maybe that explains why he would avoid your gaze and why he would say the most confusing things. you think maybe this is nagi. the socially awkward nagi. the one who can’t talk to people properly nagi.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty. i despise pretty things because it makes me feel things. it’s a pain.” he mumbles. “of course i know you. of course i know your name. but it’s the first thing i thought to say because your face was too close. you’re prettier up close.”

he should stop talking. he should drop it all together and just kiss you, but you could never say these words because you haven’t wrapped your head around the whole thing yet. nagi likes you. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi short circuits when you’re around. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi’s actually confessing. nagi likes you. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes you.

“i don’t like pretty things. that’s not my type at all. but reo said i might be in love with you.” he finally turns to look at you and tilts his head. your face burns— and you swore it was because of the remnants of your anger, but everyone else could tell that it was not. your heart does a somersault, but this time it does not drop. it stays in the air, lingering like nagi’s perfume scent, until he carefully waits for it to land on his palms when he said: “i think he’s right. i’m in love with you.”

for the duration of your game with nagi and with all the truths shared between the both of you— this is probably the most real out of them. this is the only time he doesn’t ask the question ‘real or not real’ because his face says it all. his face says that it’s the real and raw truth. his face says that you must believe this because he’s not making it up. it was the first time you could read his expression. it was the first time that you’re not confused by nagi.

“fucking dumbass,” you comment. “that’s not how it works.”

you reach over to grab his collar, on your highest tip-toes because of his height. you’re pretty sure you’re the only ones present in the secluded corridor but the clamors of your heart makes an illusion of people cheering for you. somewhere in the parallel worlds of your universe, you think maybe those cheers exist. it only silences when you pulled nagi down with you, whispering:

“i hope you still want to kiss me, then.”

when he closes in the gap between the both of you, his answer was loud and clear.

i do. always.

notes. YES YES YES i finally finished this long ass fic! i’ve been writing it since forever & im just SO glad i finally get to finish it 🥹 as u can see, there is nothing on my mind rn but nagi seishiro. he’s literally living in my head rent-free and i’m not complaining. i love him too much. i hope u enjoyed this ‼️ as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you so so much for ur patience & love for this blog ❤️

ִ ࣪𖤐 masterlist !

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quin-ns · 11 months

Note

hey ! may i request some fluff with ethan landry where he thinks she’s asleep so he whispers i love you to her but she was actually awake? (can either be established relationship or not) you can decide how she reacts :))

im so glad i found your blog because you write for many of the things that i like and it honestly felt like i hit jackpot seeing your masterlist. feel free to turn down this request/change it up !!hope u are having a good day/night <3

aw well I’m happy you found me! 🫶

writing this as a quick drabble/ficlet bc I like the idea but can’t think of a whole fic lol- enjoy!

Whispers (Ethan Landry x Reader)

You weren’t going to the party at first, but all of your friends were going and you didn’t wanna feel left out.

Getting drunk wasn’t exactly the plan either. However, you were already getting your ass kicked by classes and you wanted to let loose.

Your friends encouraged you as they did the same, all of you keeping an eye on each other.

Except, you got a bit too far ahead and ended up having to leave your friends Tara and Mindy behind on the dance floor (aka, the frat house living room floor). You ended up on a couch nearby and closed your eyes, trying to zone out and not focus on the headache-inducing music.

Did it have to be so loud?

You felt someone sit down next to you and you heard a familiar voice ask you a question.

“You alright?”

You didn’t have to look to know it was your friend Ethan. You could tell his voice anywhere, the two of you were pretty close. You and Ethan liked a lot of the same stuff and it was easy to talk to him about pretty much anything.

You met him a while ago and coincidentally, his roommate was the brother to your friend Mindy. You all ended up hanging out in a group after realizing that.

“A little too drunk,” you admitted, your head lolling to the side. You opened yours eyes and found him watching you curiously. “And very tired.”

“If you’re tired I can walk you back to your place.”

You made a noise of disapproval.

“It’s so far off campus, I’d rather just sleep here.”

Sinking into the couch felt like a really good idea.

“My dorm isn’t that far,” Ethan suggested with a shy smile. “Chad won’t care and it’s a weekend so you don’t gotta worry about class.”

You did take him up on that offer.

“You’re so sweet,” you told him as the two of you entered his apartment. You laughed to yourself, feeling quite lightheaded. “And cute.”

Ethan smiled at that. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, but it’s a secret, so shhh,” you told him. You had a pretty huge crush on him, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps in order to maintain your friendship. But your words were coming out before you could stop them.

God, you were tired.

“Well, you’re pretty cute too,” Ethan said, then quickly changed topics when you didn’t respond right away. “You can take my bed, I’ll crash in the chair.”

He pointed towards a sad little beat up recliner.

You snorted. “No way, we can share.”

Ethan and Chad didn’t have bunk beds, so it was easy to kick off your shoes and climb into his bed. Another day you might’ve been more graceful, but it looked so comfortable and you couldn’t resist. Ethan did the same, not even changing into pajamas.

The two of you laid side by side and you tried to bite back a smile at the thought of being in bed with Ethan.

You rolled to the side, facing the wall, and closed your eyes. You were insanely exhausted and drunk, and really, really wanted to sleep.

“Goodnight, Ethan,” you mumbled to him. “And thanks for this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he responded. There was a moment of silence where you thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he just said, “Goodnight.”

You started to drift off to sleep, getting comfortable. Maybe ten minutes passed and you should’ve been asleep, but you weren’t.

“Are you awake?” Ethan asked softly.

You were right on the edge of falling asleep finally and you knew if you started talking, that would never happen. Whatever he had to say, you two could talk about it tomorrow.

“I guess you are asleep… and now I’m just talking to myself.” Ethan laughed a little and you tried not to smile. “That’s okay, you need sleep. I just wanted to say… I’m glad you trust me and that I can be here for you. I like being your friend, and I—I like you, y’know?”

It was quiet for a long moment. Your breathing remained steady and you thought maybe he’d closed his eyes and drifted off.

Instead, he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm over your body.

“I really like you, actually. Like I lot… as more than just a friend,” Ethan continued in a whisper. You could feel his heart racing against your back and you tried to not let on that you were awake. “Maybe even love you, but that’s crazy, right? We’re not even dating and I think I’m in love with you…

You really wanted to open your eyes, but you didn’t want to embarrass him. He’d just poured his heart out, it didn’t seem like the right move to surprise him.

“I’ll tell you for real someday, if I can ever get the courage to ask you out.”

You hoped that was a promise that Ethan could keep. You liked him too—a lot—and hopefully that day he’d ask you out would come soon. You really wanted to see how things would go because you had a feeling that you could be in love him too.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream #quin-ns writing #request #ficlet #asks

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 4 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: God I am about to start my period and I needed this y'all. Lol. It does lean more towards Steve than Steddie in this case and there was a reason story wise that I did that.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Plus Size sub reader. Like I said this is more of a Steve chapter but reader does mention Eddie a lot and the events of the previous chapter. Phone smut so dirty talk abound with degrading. Reader does get picked on again by Carol and starts a fight (both girls get hurt; not much), Reader hits Steve, she does use the save word but its not in a sexual setting. You'll see.

I think that's it.

Word Count: 3708

“What happened?!”

“Masie, Jesus Christ, nothing happened. Steve let me use his shower and then I crashed in the guest bedroom. It’s fine.”

Over the weekend and into the start of new school week, your friend continued to ask you the same question repeatedly. Every time you gave her the same answer but she never seemed to believe it.

“Why would you even want to stay there?”

“Can we drop it? Please?”

“Fine. I’ll drop it for now but at some point, you have to come clean about your crush on Eddie Munson.” You roll your eyes as you close your locker and walk with her to lunch. “You know his dad is in jail, right?”

“Maze!”

“What! I’m just saying.”

As you both headed to your table, Eddie flashed you a small smile before focusing his attention back to his friends. When you passed Steve’s usual table, however, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t there. He had been in class that morning so he was here today and he was in class that afternoon.

You wanted to ask him what was going on but you still didn’t know how to approach him or Eddie during school hours. You didn’t even know what the three of you were.

Since you no longer had detention, you promptly returned home after school and tried to focus on your homework but it was hard. They both kept flashing through the back of your mind. You still didn’t know much about either of them and they definitely didn’t know anything about you.

You did know Eddie Munson’s father was in prison but you weren’t sure what for. The town came up with their own ideas and used them against the metalhead whenever they could. Your parents always warned you to stay away from him because he was “bad news” but to you the rumors always seemed far-fetched.

Steve Harrington you thought you did know but as you learned you didn’t. Every time you two talked, you found out something new and the new pieces left you more confused.

For two people who seemed to like to take charge, they appeared to have little to no control over their surroundings.

The sound of your phone ringing shook you out of your thoughts as you leaned over to your bed side table to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N. It’s Steve. Steve Harrington.”

“Hey. Good thing you told me your last name. Wouldn’t want to confuse you with the other Steve I’m expecting to call.” The sound of his breathy laugh made you grin.

“Fuck that other Steve. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No. You’re not bothering me. I’m just doing my homework for our history class.”

“None of that shit makes any sense to me.”

“I, um, I can help you…if you want. Maybe, after school or something.”

“You’d want to help me?”

“Yeah, of course. Eddie to if he wants it. I know he’s having some trouble with Ms. O’Donnell’s class.” There was silence on his end except for the sound of his steady breathing. A sigh escaped your lips at the action, reminding you of falling asleep beside his warm, comforting frame. “Steve. Why weren’t you at lunch today?”

“Were you looking for me, honey?”

“No. I mean, I pass you both on the way to my table and you weren’t at yours with your friends.”

“Yeah. I didn’t feel like…dealing with them today.”

“Hm. I understand the feeling.” He became silent again making you worry. “Steve…are you okay?”

“Of course, I am.” You heard what sounded like him adjusting his body as he shifted on his bed. “Why? Do I not sound fine?”

“You just sound a little…lethargic.”

“Why? Because I’m calling to talk to you?! Look, I just wanted to hear your voice, okay?”

“Steve! Steve! Breathe, baby.” You have no idea where that term of endearment came from or what gave you the confidence to use it. Maybe it was hearing his panic or you just needing to hear his own confidence return. He didn’t scold you for saying it nor reprimand you in anyway so you decided to test the waters and see where this took you when it came to Steve Harrington.

“Breathe. I’m glad you called. I really am. I just hate hearing you sound so sad. I wish I could be there so I could hold you and make you feel better.”

His breathing had begun to slow and you felt the tension break. “Is that all you would do if you were here?”

“I’d do anything you wanted me to, sweetheart. I belong to you and Eddie.”

“Yeah, baby. You do. Where are you right now? In bed?” When you confirm, his groan fills the receiver. “Me to. What, uh, what are wearing?”

“Nothing attractive.”, you giggle. “I have a big, blue oversized shirt and my pajama shorts.”

Steve chuckles at your admission; not in a mocking way but filled with adoration especially at your honesty. “Most girls lie about that kind of thing. It’s kind of ridiculous like guys don’t expect you to be lounging at home in your lingerie.”

“Well, I don’t have any lingerie so”, you laugh harder.

“Shit, Y/N. We need to correct that as soon as possible! I’m not going to lie though; I think you still look sexy in what you have on.”

“How would you know!? You can’t even see me.”

“Because you look beautiful in everything you wear.” A pleasure filled gasp finds its way from your lips. You weren’t expecting that. “Yeah? You like hearing me compliment you, pretty girl?”

“I…I do.”

“Why don’t you get naked for me? Like when you were here.” While you do as your told, he continues to talk to you. “I really did like waking up with you naked next to me. I can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous your fucking body is. Every fucking curve just…drives me crazy. Fuck, I’m so fucking hard right now just thinking about it.”

“Steve…”, you moan at his words as you climbed back into bed with your legs spread.

“Do you have toys or anything?”

“Please. My parents would kill me if they found anything like that.”

“How do you usually get yourself off?”

“Honestly? I…don’t.”

Now this particular laugh he gave was meant to tease. “Honey, you’re telling me that you, the girl that said she likes to be used and fucked senseless…DOESN’T play with herself almost every day?”

“I’m telling you…yes.”, you smirk. “It’s not that I don’t know how or don’t want to…it just never worked for me. And I haven’t tried since we started fucking because I’m too fucking sore.”

You both laugh, yours much breathier than his.

“Is your pussy still sore?”

“A little. Eddie really wore it out.”

“I bet he did. Did you like it though? Him fucking you like the whore you are?

“Steve.”, you whimpered as your hips slowly began to grind onto air.

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Yes, I liked him fucking me like a whore.”

“Fuck. Put your fingers between your legs, baby, and tell me how fucking wet you are.”

Gliding you digits between your folds; you feel the slick practically leaking down your thighs. “You’re making me drip, Steve. My sheets are soaked already. Are…are you stroking your big, thick cock?”

“Y/N, I’ve been palming my dick since you said you belong to us.”

“Aw, do you need me to remind you sometimes?”

“No…I just like hearing you say it. To hear you…fuck…submit. Put your fingers inside of your cunt.” Steve’s tone became more forceful and you promptly did as he commanded, whimpering at the feeling. “God, you sound so fucking sexy. H-how many fingers are you using?”

“Mmm—two.”

“Use one more.”

“Steve…I-I-I can’t.”

“Don’t fucking talk back to me. Remember, you’re the whore here, Y/N. You can take—mmm—our cocks but you can’t take three of your tiny fingers?!”

Your mouth opened in a silent O as you squeeze one more digit into your tight hole, moaning at the sweet feeling of you stretching yourself open.

“Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me. How does it feel?”

“Full…so…full. Fuck…I’m gonna—”

“Me to. Cum for me, honey.” You turned your head, muffling your moans in your pillow as you came. On the other line, you heard Steve grunt followed by his own heavy breathing.

“Are you…okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I am. Fuck.”, you laughed as your head fell back.

“Don’t put your clothes back on. I want you to fall asleep naked and dream of me, pretty girl. Okay? Fuck, I wish you had a toy so you could sleep with it inside you because I would give anything to be able to do that with you right now.”

“Steve…”

“Do you like that idea? Fuck, just thinking of me and Eddie being able to fall sleep with us both inside you is making me hard again. Waking up in the middle of the night to take you again…over and over…Jesus.”

“Steve…I-I have to go. Please, don’t get me worked up again.”, you giggle trying to hide your moans at his words. “Good night, baby.”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

#################

During your free period the next day, you sat in the hallway leaning near your locker as you studied for an up coming test. The sound of squeaking sneakers followed by loud skidding made you look up just in time to see Eddie sliding on his jeaned knees toward your side.

“Hey princess.” You giggled as you grinned up at him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m just studying for a test.” When you flashed him your notecards, he immediately yanked them out of your grasp as he got more comfortable beside you.

“Geez, look at you all prepared. Why are you out here and not in the library or something?”

“There’s no one out here.” You gesture along the hallway for emphasis. “Plus, it’s quieter than the library…for some reason.”

“I heard you offered to help Harrington and I with our classes.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I don’t mind. I’m not great with everything but…” Eddie nods as you flash him a tiny smile.

“I’d like that a lot. Unless it’s D & D, I struggle to retain that information. It’s almost like my brain shuts off or something.” He hands you back your cards and you place them in your lap. “How are you doing? Since the party I mean.”

“I’m ok. My dad didn’t smell any of the beer and thankfully Masie’s mom smokes so anything from your van he didn’t take as out of the ordinary.”

“Are you trying to tell me that my van smells like smoke?” He playfully squints his eyes at you as you laugh.

“I’m saying that sometimes when I leave you two, I come in smelling like you two especially your cigarettes.” You glance towards the floor as you fidget with your hands. “It doesn’t bother me though…the smoke smell. It, um, makes me think of you now.”

You blushed as you felt his eyes on your face. “Sweetheart, you can’t get all shy on me now. Especially after a little bird told me you said you enjoyed me fucking you like the whore you are.” Your eyes locked with his as he grinned. “I wish I heard you say it for myself.”

After looking around, you reached for his chin as your thumb glided along him bottom lip. “I liked you fucking me, Eddie. I told Steve I was still sore from how you stretched me open.”

His breath stuttered a bit as his lips puckered out to kiss the pad of your finger. You both jumped a part at the sound of heels as a teacher breezed pass the hallway.

“I wish I could fuck you right now.”, he whispered. “I have to go to this stupid fucking class or Principal Higgins threatened to suspend me again. My uncle will throw a fit.”

“Is that who you live with… your uncle?”

“Yup. In the trailer park a few miles down the way.”

“Where’s your mom?”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours with an amused smile. “I’m assuming since you asked that instead of where both my parents are that you’ve heard the rumors about my dad.”

“I know the town has their own stories… I’d rather hear it from you. Whenever you’re ready I mean.”

He scans your over trying to get a read on you just as Steve had. You jump when the bell rings and students quickly begin filing out into the hall. Without another word, he rises to his feet, smiling down at you before disappearing in the herd of kids.

#############

As the day came to a close, you headed for the parking lot, lost in the prospect that one of the boys would call you tonight. You froze as you noticed a small crowd had gathered near a spot you were sure your car was currently sitting. As you pushed past people, the murmurs got louder until you finally made your way to the middle.

You bag and books fell to the ground as your arms collapsed to your sides. On the side of your vehicle, spray painted in big letters were the words “Fat whore” in bright orange. The first thing that flashed through you mind was panic. How am I supposed to drive home with this? Everyone is going to see it. My parents are going to quiz me and demand to speak with the principal. They would cause a scene which is something I don’t need.

Then, that fear was replaced with extreme anger. He told them. Steve told them about what him and I have been up to. How could he do this? I knew he wasn’t any different!

“Love the new paint job, Y/N?” Carol’s snarky tone cut through your internal breakdown. “I think it suits you.”

Something snapped inside of you as you gradually made your way over to before punching her square in the nose. Carol fell backwards, collecting her bearings before charging at you. As you both fell to the ground, the crowd started screaming and chanting.

Suddenly, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and lift you off the girl underneath you. You fought trying to get back to her but it was no use.

“Y/N! Stop! Stop it!” Eddie held you tighter to him as he tried to calm you down.

“Get the fuck off of me!”, you shouted.

“Stupid bitch! This isn’t over!”, Carol screamed as Tommy cupped her face in his hands.

“Yes, it is!” Steve’s voice boomed over everyone else’s as he placed himself in front of you. “Stop this now. No more name calling or humiliating her. Just leave her the fuck alone.”

“What’s it to you?”, Tommy asked. “We’re your friends and if I recall Stevie boy you laughed along with us when we were doing that so called ‘humiliation’ in the past.”

“You’re not my friends anymore. Now get the fuck out of my face or else I will make yours look exactly like your girlfriend’s.”

They glared at each other before Tommy turned around and tugged Carol’s arm as they headed for their car. Steve swiveled his body to face you as you continued to fight against Eddie’s hold. As soon as they are far enough away and the crowd had dissipated, he releases you and you promptly fly towards the other boy, smacking him in the face.

“How could you do this to me!? I thought you were different! How could you tell them everything?!”

You fist flew again and he immediately caught your wrist, spinning you around till your back was against his chest.

“Eddie. Van.”

You continue to struggle as he clings to you, pushing you forward to follow the metalhead. Once they reach his vehicle, Eddie climbs in and starts the engine while Steve throws you in the back, crawling in behind you.

The van begins to move as you continue to fight and push, him allowing it before capturing you again and trapping you in his lap. What’s happening? Where are they taking me? How could he do this? How could he do this? How could he—"

“VANILLA!”

As soon as you shout the safe word, Eddie stomps on the breaks causing all the three of you to tilt forward. You climbed out of the bed of the van, tears clouding your vision as you began to walk away.

“Y/N, wait.” Steve tries to grab your arm, ducking when you take another swing. “Please, I’m trying to respect your boundaries but you need to stop hitting me!”

“How could you do that!?”

“Do what?! What do you think I did!?”

“You told them! You told them I like being degraded and used!”

“Y/N, I haven’t talked to either of them since my party on Saturday.”

“Oh, fuck you! So, Carol just happens to call me a whore the day after we talk about it over the phone?!”

“I swear on my life I only told Eddie about that call. Honestly, it’s kind of pissing me off that you think I would ever stoop that low and hurt you like that! I may be an asshole but I’m not a complete fucking asshole.”

“That makes no sense.”, Eddie chuckles behind him. Steve rolls his eyes as he places his hands on his hips.

“How can I trust you, Steve? Tommy was right. You laughed along with them many times. What am I supposed to think?”

The man sighs as he begins to angrily pace. A thought shimmers in his eyes before he marches towards the van and sits on the back end.

“What are you doing?”, you ask as he starts taking off his shoes.

“I don’t know how to show you that you can trust me especially after all the fucked up shit that I’ve done so I’m going for the next best thing.”

Eddie’s jaw drops as Steve takes off his shirt and pants, exposing himself for anyone who should be driving by.

“Tell me what I have to do. I’ll stand here all night or I can go back to the school and saunter down the hallways with my dick hanging out. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.” A smile creeps across your face causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say a word. Carol says stupid shit like that all the time. It’s like the only words she knows are ‘Whore. Bitch. And Tommy is it in yet.”

You laugh hard at that as he gradually steps toward you. “May I hug you?” As soon as you nod, he arms descend around you, clinging to your body. When you hiss, he pulls back slightly, seeing the blood glistening on your shoulder. “Munson.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, I have some stuff at the trailer. Looks like she scratched you good, sweetheart. Do you feel safe enough to come over or do you want me to take you home?”

“I can come over.”

##############

Eddie’s room was completely different from Steve’s but exactly how you would picture it when it came to the metalhead. It was a total mess which didn’t seem to bother him at all as he tore through the area looking for something to take care of you. The band posters on the wall made you smile as they were some of the bands you and Masie always listened to when you slept over.

You reached out and picked up a folder hanging slightly off his nightstand. “Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Screen”. As you flip through it, your eyes take in all the monster and story information he’s collected, smiling at the sloppy notes he’s written along to side.

“Steve, is there a particular reason you haven’t put your clothes back on?”, Eddie asks as he throws himself down on the bed next to you. “Take this off, babe.”, he whispers softly as he tugs at the hem of your shirt.

“It was to prove a point but now I’m just comfortable.”, he chuckles.

“Shit. I have to call my dad. May I?”, you ask as you reach for his phone.

He nods as he places the damp rag in his hand on your shoulder and you hiss at the sting. Eddie’s other hand runs through your hair down the back of your head and you smile at the gesture as you dial your home phone.

“Jesus, Y/N, where are you? You were supposed to be home 30min ago.”

“I know, mom. I’m sorry. My car kind of gave out on me so Masie’s dad towed it to the shop. I’m still here.”

“Hm. Well, I’m glad you’re ok. Will you be spending the night again? I need to know so I can tell your dad.”

Your eyes shift between the men in front of you as you try to decide. “Um, yeah. I will be spending the night. That way I can pick up my car in the morning before school.”

“That’s a good idea. Ok, sweetie. Have fun with Masie and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Look at you, you bad girl.”, Eddie grins as you hang up the phone. “What gives you the idea that you CAN spend the night here, hm?”

“SOMEONE informed me that you both like sleeping beside me naked so… I figured I’d utilize the opportunity.” You beamed up at him as he removed the rag and tossed it to the side.

“Um, fuck, I don’t have any bandages or anything. Not ones big enough for this.”

“It’s ok. It doesn’t really hurt as much anymore…”

“I can grab some from the corner store when I go get her car later.”

“Oh, Steve, you don’t have to do that—”

“Do you not want me to?”, he cut you off.

“Um, I mean, I don’t mind. I’m just saying—”

“Ok. Case closed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as the other man leans back flat on his bed, reaching on to his floor, and throwing a pair of sweats at him. “At least but on some pants for right now for God’s sake. I think you proved your point.”

###########

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch @chelebelletx

@shayeddie @emmaless-01 @anaibis

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peach-and-bugs · 10 months

Note

“I didn’t miss you. But now you're here and… god, fuck me,” with teen nat preferably angst/smut please. thank you!

❤️I'm Out of Time - Natalie Scatorccio (2000) x fem!Reader❤️ (18+, Minors DNI, you will be blocked)

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: You hadn't seen Natalie for years. Not since she'd come back after the crash, and you where alright with that. You'd taken time for yourself and you'd moved on. You were working on your degree and finding yourself. You weren't anticipating any interruptions…

Warnings: Post-crash, 2000 (Natalie and reader are both 22), angst, swearing, Travis, toxic dynamics & smut (18+, Minors DNI, you will be blocked) - fingering, praise kink, oral fixation + some spit, top!Natalie, dumbification, minor primal but only if you really squint

Word Count: 3,618

A/N: Hello loves! I'm knocking out two requests with this one, as the quotes felt like they worked together well, so I hope yall don't mind! To make up for it I've made it a much longer than some other one-shots. I also felt like this could be read as sort of a sequel to my other Natalie fic, Blame Game, as both of these have pretty similar theming going on. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!

Natalie Scatorccio Tag List:

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy @damagnificentcookie

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-❤️-

You’re day had gone on relatively average compared to most days. You’d gone grocery shopping after class and work for the week as you desperately needed to restock your fridge. Normally, it was your roommate’s week to do the shopping, but she was out for the weekend visiting family back in Jersey, so today, you bit the bullet and got it done. You were currently fumbling with your bags as you talked to your mom on your cellphone, all while trying to get out of your taxi. Your mother always tended to call at the worst times.

“No, Mom, I’m fine! I’m just trying to get inside, is all,” you huffed when she asked why you were breathing so hard. “Yes, money’s fine. I’ve just gotta balance work and school, is all” She cut you off again, and you had to stifle your sigh of irritation. You fumbled to pull your keys out of your bag as you approached your doorstep.

Only when you looked up, did you notice the figure sitting in front of your apartment’s door. Your apartment mainly was single girls or girls who didn’t live with their boyfriends, so you assumed it was some strange suiter till the figure noticed you and stood. They brushed the hair from their face, and your blood ran cold, freezing you where you stood.

“Ok, Mom? Can I call you back?” Your mother was already pestering you for a reason why before you could finish asking her. “I’m just trying to get inside all with full hands. I’ll call you back. I love you,” You had to talk over her to hang up, followed by a struggle to get your phone out from under your ear and shoulder and into your bag.

Only after that did you acknowledge Natalie, who had simply stood watching you the whole time. You gave her a pointed look before letting out a stuffed breath and approaching her. When she opened her mouth to speak, you shook your head without stopping or skipping a beat as you went to unlock your door.

“No,” was all you said, fumbling with your keys once more.

“I didn’t even say anything,” she started with an exasperated scoff in her tone, following after you.

“No, but I knew you would,”

“Oh, you knew I would say what?” she hadn’t even seen you for five minutes and was already getting defensive—typical Scatorccio behavior. You groaned and just unlocked the door to your apartment complex and walked in with Natalie in tow because there was no getting rid of her now.

“If you’re going to insist on following me, at least take something,” you aggressively shoved a paper bag in her arms, freeing up one of your hands to get a firm grip on your keys. She took the bag with a grimace but didn't further complain as she climbed the stairs with you. Of course, the elevator was still broken after a week, but you might as well get a little cardio in. You dramatically let Natalie into your apartment behind you, taking the bag from her after dropping your keys into the bowl by the door. You gave her no time to try the conversation again as you disappeared into your kitchen. You weren't going to let her derail your task. You wouldn't let her be a disruption.

Eventually, she found you after wandering into the apartment. You only gave her a glance of acknowledgment as you unpacked your groceries. She’d cut her hair, but she hadn't bothered bleaching it again like she always said she would. It now rested just above her shoulders. Her shabby bans could use a trim. The ends were falling in front of her eyes and had to be obstructing her vision. She’d also gotten her lip pierced since the last time she’d darkened your doorstep.

She kept her hands firmly shoved in the pockets of her leather jacket as she watched you. She was acting as though she hadn’t anticipated getting this far. You took a bundle of groceries to the fridge, and upon passing her, you scrunched your nose as you inhaled a familiar sour staleness.

“I thought you stopped smoking,” you commented offhandedly, neglecting to hide any condescending tone. Natalie, not expecting the sudden comment or conversation for that matter, gave you a confused look, her eyes following as you maneuvered around the pocket-sized kitchen.

“I'm sorry?” was all she could ask. You declined, looking back up at her as you turned your back to stick cans in you’re cupboards.

“You smell like cigarettes again,” she scratched at the back of her neck, looking away.

“Yeah, I picked it up again,” she acted as though she was about to be scolded by her mother. You turned around and gave her a hard look, trying to figure out what might be going on in her head. But Natalie was always tricky. She didn't let on what she was thinking. You could never figure her out. When you looked your way again, all you could do was groan and cover your eyes, practically boiling with frustration. And to think, just ten minutes ago, you thought to yourself that you’d been having a good, average day.

“Natalie, what do you want?” you forced yourself to ask, hands gripping the countertop of your kitchen island as you watched her. “Why are you here?”

“Do I need to want something to come and see you?” You were shaking your head before she could finish her thought.

“Yes! Yes, you do, Natalie, because you don’t just drop in,” You maneuvered out of the kitchen and into your living room with Natalie on your heels. “You always want something, even when you refuse to admit it,” You opened a window and stuck your head out, taking in a long breath of somewhat fresh city air. The sun was already starting to set as streetlights turned on one by one. Squeezing your eyes shut, you forced yourself to stick your head back into your apartment and face your “company.”

“I’m assuming it's money again,” you gave her a cold stare, crossing your arms and leaning against the windowsill. Natalie gawked at you, her jaw slightly hung wordlessly open till she scoffed, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. “What, am I wrong? Or maybe you thought you could crash on my couch,” you egged her on. This, of course, pissed her off, which you thought ‘good. If I have to be pissed, then so should she,’.

“Wow, so college did make you a stuck-up bitch,” she said under her breath, immediately regretting her bitter tongue based on the deer-in-headlights look she gave you after, but even with the apology pressed to her lips, you didn't have it.

“Fuck you, Scatorccio. You can leave right now for all I care,” you got up as you spoke, hands clenched into fists as you pointed at her chest. You raised a hand to shove her and get her out of your house, but she acted faster, grabbing you by the wrist. Her grip was tight, but not painful, but still enraging. That is till you looked into her eyes for just a little too long, and you gave up, your anger melting into pity and frustration instead as your brow knit and you frowned with a trembling lip.

“What more do you want from me, Natalie,” you asked weakly, holding from screaming despite the urge you had. But Natalie couldn’t immediately give you an answer. That or she didn’t want to answer. Instead, she just held your wrist, her eyes searching your face for something you couldn’t pinpoint as she frowned. That is till she couldn’t take it, her eyes waving from you, and she shook her head, lips parting as she found her wording.

“I guess I missed you,” you couldn’t help growing angry again. You tugged your wrist from her, which didn’t take much effort, and gave her a point, hurt, look again.

“You ‘guess?’ What, Travis not doing it for you anymore, so you thought you’d just come back to me as backup, once again?” It was now Natalie’s turn to get angry.

“This has nothing to do with him-”

“Oh, it always does, Natalie,” you argued back, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation as you began to pace the room. “It’s always gonna be about Travis because you only want me when you can’t have him,”

“That’s not true!” she yelled back with gritting teeth.

“When was the last time you came to see me when you weren't on a break?” you pressed, feeling the sting of tears begins to sting your eyes.

“When was the last time you thought about me when you were with him, huh? I’ll tell you because you don’t think of me when you’re with him. You only think about me when you’re all alone, and I’m your last resort because you push everyone else away,” You finally let yourself yell, choking on tears. You knew you didn’t mean what you were saying, not wholeheartedly anyway. You just wanted her to go. You wanted to hurt her so she’d leave and never come back because you couldn’t keep doing this.

You couldn’t keep feeling like second best or being around for a quick fuck when she was feeling lonely. You’d moved on! You were living your life for you and finding your way in the world. But then Natalie has the nerve to walk back in when she feels like it and when it is convenient for her. What about when it was convenient for you?

What about way back when, when you’d waited for her, your best friend, to see you standing there, wanting her that whole time, only to pick a douchebag boy over you. Natalie said nothing as you began to cry. You felt like you were caving in on yourself, morphing back into that sad, lonely teenager who longed to be noticed as someone more than a friend.

“I didn’t miss you,” you finally managed to talk again through choked sniffles. You sounded pitiful; you knew it. But what else was there to do now but to keep being honest? “I was finally feeling good! But now you're here and- god, fuck me,” you ran your hands through your hair, shaking your head as you pulled your eyes away from her, biting your lip. You took your fist, wrapping it around the thumb on your other hand, allowing your hands to shake as you started to pace once more.

God, you wanted her to leave, but still, the thought of being alone after all this felt unbearable. And despite the anger you were feeling, you still wanted her. You wanted her to hold you, caress you, make you forget all the bad things you'd been feeling. You just wanted it all to go away. You hadn't even noticed that you shut your eyes again till you felt Natalie’s hands caress your face, thumbing at the tears that fell as she wrapped her hand around your clenched fingers. You couldn’t help looking up at her, your cheek eagerly seeking to lean into the warmth of her palm. She looked down at you with sad, wet brown eyes that you couldn’t help being captivated by.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” she murmured rather stiffly, swallowing thickly as she nodded. “You’re right about all of it. And I’m sorry,” you took in a long sniff and shook your head.

“No, no, you're not. You're just saying that” You began to argue, but she urged you to listen.

“I am sorry, and I’ve missed you. Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” she urged, squeezing your hand. “I just don’t wanna drag you into all my bullshit, you know? Because you don’t deserve that,” she explained weakly.

“I could have taken it,” You urged her, but she shook her head.

“I wouldn’t let you,” You sniffled again, relenting in a silent nod. You let that silence hang in the air till you couldn't bare it.

“Make it up to me?” Natalie knew the implication behind your request. You used that phrase with one another some times before, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“I don't know if that’s the best idea,” She murmured, taking her rare turn to be the rationally thinking one. But you shook your head as a final tear rolled down your cheek.

“Please,” you begged, squeezing her hand. “Just this time. If I regret it, it’s for me to deal with in the morning,” you knew you sounded miserably helpless, and you'd be embarrassed by your neediness when your mind cleared again, but for now, you leaned into it, excepting the mess you where when it came to Natalie. It was a bitter cycle; you knew it, but you could deal with the ramifications in the morning. After looking into your eyes for too long, she relented, taking your lips in with hers as your hands found refuge dug deep in her hair.

-❤-

She pressed you hard into the bed, aggressively tugging at your shirt to come off over your head as she straddled your hips, letting out hot and heavy breaths against your ear as she struggled to swallow the moan that threatened to push past her lips. You started to tug at her ripped shirt as well, only for Natalie to stop you and take it off in one swift motion. You are about to reach out for her till she gets off your lap, scooping under you to move you up the bed.

She kneeled on the bed above you and between your legs, messing with the buckle of her belt, smiling down at you with a wicked grin as her eyes lingered on your exposed, rising chest, then down to the band of your pants. Wordlessly you understand to take your pants off and sit up to do so as Natalie does the same. With the last major layer removed, your both left clad in your underwear. That is till you took your bra off, leaving your chest bare in front of her.

Natalie lunged forward, straddling your hips once more as she caught your lips in a heavy, messy kiss. Teeth scrape at your lip, and you meet the cold metal of her lip ring. Her breath was hot as it fanned over the skin of your face till she moved on to your neck. She sat above you, holding herself up with a knee and embows as she started marking up your neck. Her knee shifted into place between your legs, forcing into your core, and you let out a heavy moan from your throat. You could feel her smiling against the spot she now soothed on your neck, knowing what she’d done.

“That's a c-cheep shot,” you managed to stutter out as she moved on to scrap her teeth over your collarbone. She’d done that long ago on accident but recalled the reaction you'd had then too. Your hips began to gently rock against her knee, already craving any friction available for the growing ache down below. Of course, Natalie only found this to be further amusing. But she eventually relented, her hands pressing your hips down and still, as she moved down your body, kissing your stomach as she pulled her knee away and practically pealed away your underwear.

She dared to look up at you through her lashes with that blown, lusting look in her eye that had you turning your head away, fust clenching the pillow under your head as you bit your lip to stifle the moan in your throat. Of course, this wasn’t acceptable as she always liked seeing your eyes, so her hand snaked into your underwear, the pads of her pointer and middle finger finding your clit with ease; she moved up your body again, taking your chin between your fingers. You knew your face was flushed and hot, your chest heaving up and down with labored breath, your brows creasing as you strained to suppress the sounds pulling at your throat. But all the same, Natalie smiled down at you, her eyes full of unfamiliar warmth and affection that you craved.

“Don’t be quiet for me,” she purred, tilting her head as she held your chin. She squeezed your cheeks just enough to part your lips, which released a breathy moan, and she grinned, nodding along as her fingers began to circle your clit in rhythm with the roll of your hips. You were already feeling the oncoming brain fog as she continued her circlings, and without giving it any thought, your hands reached out, caressing her cheeks as she smiled down at you proudly.

Looking into her eyes, your mouth hung open as you let out every moan that surfaced as she circled your clit, going round and round till you felt like you were dizzy, but it wasn’t going to be enough. You were greedy. You needed more from her, more of her.

“Natalie, please,” you managed, your expression straining with every swipe. She shooshed you, cooing so gently as she nodded.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m getting there. You’re being so patient,” she finally moved on from your clit to test the waters of your entrance, which you knew was embarrassingly soaked by now. But Natalie didn't mind. She seemed to enjoy the way her fingers glided in with ease and how you let out another shuddering moan against her ear. After some adjustment, she began to pump and curl her fingers in a timely rhythm with the rocking of your hips.

She fawned at the way your eyes rolled back as her palm met your already sensitive clit, cooing muffled praise amongst the sound of your moans.

“That’s right. Keep up those pretty faces for me,” she purred just before she began messily kissing your jaw. After all these years, it still amazed you how she had you memorized. Fucking you was like riding a bike. Natalie never seemed to forget what she was doing. You tightened around her fingers, thighs squeezing around her hand to make sure you weren't going anywhere as you climbed your high.

Natalie groaned against your throat as the feeling but kept going. She’d moved so she was laying beside you, her head buried into your neck, biting at your shoulder as she grew increasingly aroused just by listening to the sounds from your throat and your cunt. Realizing how close she was to you among your building haze, you managed to think it wasn’t enough. So in a moment of desperation, thanks to your impending orgasm, you rolled over just enough to force your mouth against hers as a hand grappled at her still-clothed breast, slipping your fingers under the red lace to find hard, sensitive nipples waiting for you.

You strummed over her nipple with your thumb, and Natalie let out an unfamiliar, strangulated sound that ended in an animalistic whimper. The feeling caused her to pump harder into you and ultimately was the final push to send you over the edge with a similar howling cry as you curled in on yourself, your forehead falling to Natalie’s shoulder as you grappled at her bare arms. You could hear her hiss at the sting of your nails clawing at her skin as you started to come down.

Her hand slowed gradually as she continued to pump in and out, steadying you off of your high. She pulled away from you ever so slightly, nudging your thighs apart with her free hand to take her fingers back from you. She made a big show of licking her fingers clean till you gained enough self back to reach out, taking her wrist in hand and cleaning her fingers yourself. You watched her, doe-eyed and still hazy, as you let her fingers pass your lips, tongue running around her digits as you moaned at your taste. She appeared jealous watching the action but seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.

“Well, look at you,” she murmured under her breath with a turned smile. She sat up on her side, propping herself up with her elbow. You let her fingers go with a pop as they passed your lips, and she grinned as she wiped your spit off on her underwear. You smiled contently without saying a word as you reached up, brushing Natalie’s bangs from her forehead where they stuck with sweat. Your hand ran down her jaw, guiding her back to your lips for another long kiss. As the kiss went on, your hands began to wander, but she stopped you before you could make your way into her pants. She held your wrist and shook her head, kissing your palm.

“Not now. Just get some sleep,” she murmured, unclasping her bra from behind to throw it over the edge of the bed as she got up. She ducked away into your bathroom. You lie naked in the dark, listening to the sound of the tap turning on and running for some time before it turned off as she retired with wet cloth in hand. She helped you under the covers as she got in with you and slipped the warm rag between your legs, casually helping your clean up. The rag was also tossed to the floor with the rest of your clothes as Natalie crawled into bed with you. She didn’t often stay the night, but in your growing groggy state, you smiled, feeling her wrap around you, holding you tight. Maybe she wouldn’t stay, but for now, she was here and you were going to be content with that.

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x reader #fanfiction requests #fic request #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

328 notes · View notes

likepraying · 8 months

Text

7-11 run | oneshot

pairing: guy x honey summary: first meeting between guy and honey... or at least my interpretation. warnings: none! wordcount: 1,004 note: i know this took so long to release but here you guys go!!

You weren’t the type to go to 7/11 at three in the morning. However, the guy you talked to about Star Wars for around six hours offered and for some reason a slurpee sounded great right about now. You didn’t know why saying yes to him was so easy but you were sure it had to do with the way he smiled at you and the look of hope that was in his eyes… You could probably say yes to anything he said at the moment.

The reason you two met was because of this dinner party. You were at the point in your life that people did dinner parties, which you didn’t even know if you were the best candidate for. Someone from your class invited you because her boyfriend was a culinary major and he wanted to do something for the sake of practicing his skills. Plus… you couldn’t remember the last time you had a meal where you had all five food groups. More sad to admit in your head now you think about it.

Still, you expected to see a keg and some dudes with shirts off… Okay, maybe you weren’t the biggest party person and you didn’t spend time outside of your dorm other than for work. You didn’t want to talk about it. The dinner held around fifteen people and all of which you could communicate with, except for this girl named Kayla which was rough. Most of the time she wanted everyone to pay attention to her but you didn’t have the patience for that so you just ate your food and talked to others. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live with her.

It was a good meal. A wonderful array of different types of tacos. It was traditional style tacos with fish, veggies and chicken with some rice that was so good you had to take home. As well as the tortillas and a good amount of salsa. Your mini fridge will be thankful for actually being full for once. But the guy who sat next to you asked about you. He was interested in what you studied, what your hobbies were, why you specifically hated the Return of the Jedi when it was the best of the original series. You couldn’t understand Guy, you wanted to so badly but you couldn’t get him and that’s why you probably stuck around with him this evening.

Your window gets rolled up as he finally turns on the air conditioner in his 2014 Subaru outback (that of which he named Steve Irwin) and you smell the royal pine air freshener once more. You two had a debate about that one too.

“You know what would be totally crazy?” Guy’s voice breaks the long and lovely silence you were having.

A sigh escapes from your lips, “Yeah?” “If you like… stay at my place and we have a sleepover.” “...What?” “You heard me, dude.”

“Guy. I cannot spend a night at your place.” “Well! News for you, babe, it's actually three right now so you’re not exactly spending the night.” Guy counters but it only makes you close your eyes.

“I cannot. I got work.” “Great. I’ll drive you to your dorm and then I’ll take you out.” You sit there in the passenger seat, tempted to just shake him. You hear his marble-sized brain shake around his head but you don’t. You bite your lip before shaking your head, “Fuck it.”

“YEAH! Sleepover at Guy’s!” He screams out before you are swerving to the right and pulling to the 7/11.

“I hate your driving so much, oh my god.” You say, holding to either side of the car, bracing as if you were going to crash.

“Hey, I deliver pizzas for a living. I gotta get there fast or else they get a free pie. I can’t have that.” He turns off the ignition and steps out of the car. Before you have a chance to open the door he runs over, sliding over the hood of his car and opens up the door. With a huff he smiles, “Hey girl.”

“Never say that again.”

“No! It’s the Ryan Gosling meme!” “...Where do you get so much energy?” You ask. “It’s the H in ADHD.” He smiles back at you before gesturing to start walking with him as he closes the door after you climb out.

The worker doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone screen as the both of you enter. The humming of the fridges and the slurpee machines fill the silence and already the two of you are giggling as you try and race each other to the machines. Guy hip-bumps you and you’re thrown off your course. You watch him grab a big gulp cup and fill the cup in every flavor. His giggles only make you question whether a demon possessed him.

Slowly in your frightened state you grab a medium cup and begin to fill the cup with coca-cola and cherry and the man snaps up as if he just remembered what he needed to get.

“The Airhead rainbow things. The sour things.”

You watch him furrowed his brows in confusion as he tries to remember the name of the candy and you feel laughter bubble in your throat before it escapes, shaking your head and you speak once more, “You are ridiculous.”

“Yeah, that’s right, honey! R-I-D… Uh…”

You look over at him with a raised eyebrow and he stares back at you with puckered lips and shakes a finger, “Whatever. I need the candy. You can sit here and judge me for not knowing how to spell ridiculous but I want snacks.”

And he was off to another aisle. You grab a straw and feel yourself smiling more than planned. You didn’t know why you didn’t tell him not to call you anything. Especially “honey” of all things. But you could get used to him calling you that. You could be Guy’s honey.

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted audio #frankwrites #redacted honey #redacted guy

89 notes · View notes

ticklish-n-stuff · 11 months

Note

If I may be so PAINFULLY self indulgent for a moment, may I please request ler!An with some kind of comfort/bad day tickles? No pressure ofc, you don't have to. Remember to take care of yourself, and take you time! I love you <33

Cheer up!

I got hit with inspiration so here ya go~ uwu

Also I added in ler Mizuki, I hope you don't mind 💖

Enjoy! :D

___________________________________________

An x Mizuki x gn!reader (interpret as you wish)

Lee: reader

Lers: An, Mizuki

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

You sat at your desk in disbelief, looking down at the graded test the teacher had just handed back. A red F, you couldn't believe it. You had studied so hard for this too! You slumped down in your seat all mopey, this of course caught An's attention.

"Hey, everything alright?".

"No... I got an F...!" you whispered out sheepishly.

"So? I don't get that many good grades, and look at me!"

"You're not helping...".

"Haha sorry..." An stared at you with a sad smile, figuring out how to cheer you up. That's when she got an idea. She looked over at Mizuki, who had decided to actually show up to class today. They sat beside you on the opposite side. Once An caught their attention, they looked at her with a curious gaze.

"Hmm?".

An quietly pointed over at you, who was currently burrying their face against their desk. She then gave Mizuki a knowing look, once they caught onto An's plan, they both gave off a playful smirk.

"Hey, Y/n?".

"Mmm...?" you didn't bother bringing your head back up.

"Are you gonna stay hiding down there?" Mizuki asked with a slight chuckle, although they were genuinly concerned for your wellbeing and wanted to make you feel better, just like An.

You gave a nod at their question, causing the other two to giggle at you.

"Haha! You're so precious~" An teased, grinning victoriously when she caught the back of your neck heating up. "Well if you're gonna stay down there, guess there's only one way to get you back out~".

Your heart dropped at the tease, your face heating up even more as you could practically feel your body tingling in anticipation. You didn't dare say anything, just kept your head stubbornly hidden.

"Hehe, such a stubborn cutie~" Mizuki joined in, their finger poking their way to your ribs.

"Eep—!" an involuntary squeak escaped your lips, the touch causing you to jump in your seat. This made them giggle in amusement.

"Aww, are you still oh so ticklish?~" An's finger found it's way to your leg, giving your kneecap a loving squeeze.

"GYAH!" that was enough to make you sit back up straight, your cherry cheeks and wobbly smile revealed for them to look at.

"That's much better! Just look at that pretty face~" An's nails kept lightly gliding along your knee, occassionnally scribbling under it's soft flesh.

"NOHOHOA! AHAHAN PLEHEHEASE!" you slapped both hands over your mouth, trying so desperate to hide the embarrassing sounds that kept spilling out of you.

"Heyyy, no hiding from this~" Mizuki teased from the other side, their nails now playfully wiggling under your arm. Causing your arms to instantly come crashing down.

"GYAHAHAHA!" there was nothing else you could do besides throw your head back in pure, unrestrained laughter. Your wide smile and flushed cheeks revealed in all their glory.

"So, are you gonna stop being all mopey, or do you need more tickles?~" An asked teasingly, slowing down the knee tickles to some light tracing. Mizuki's nails also slowed down to give you more room to breathe and hopefully talk.

"Ahahaha... I-I'm gohohood...!" you tittered out, even the light tickles was enough to keep you all giggly and happy.

"You sure? You seem to like this~" An teased with a final squeeze to your knee. That only made your cheeks blush an even deeper color. "Haha! Alright fine, but don't think this is over yet~" An warned with a playful smile and a mischevious twinkle in her eye. Oh god... who knows what she'll do next. But atleast you had a reliable cheer up squad to count on.

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Whoop whoop I didnt proofread-

#project sekai #project sekai tickle #tickle fic #colorful stage #colorful stage tickle #project sekai tickle fic #colorful stage tickle fic #an shiraishi #mizuki akiyama #project sekai x reader #x reader #an x reader #mizuki x reader #ler!an #ler!mizuki #lee!reader

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ihaveasmutaddictionsblog · 1 year

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Carlisle/Bella

Summary:

Carlisle is stitching Bella's arm after the paper-cut at her birthday party, things get spicy.....

"You know my father was a clergyman," he mused as he cleaned the table carefully, rubbing everything down with wet gauze, and then doing it again. The smell of alcohol burned in my nose. "He had a rather harsh view of the world, which I was already beginning to question before the time that I changed." Carlisle put all the dirty gauze and the glass slivers into an empty crystal bowl. I didn't understand what he was doing, even when he lit the match. Then he threw it onto the alcohol-soaked fibers, and the sudden blaze made me jump.

"Sorry," he apologized. "That ought to do it. So I didn't agree with my father's particular brand of faith. But never, in the nearly four hundred years now since I was born, have I ever seen anything to make me doubt whether God exists in some form or the other. Not even the reflection in the mirror."

I pretended to examine the dressing on my arm to hide my surprise at the direction our conversation had taken. Religion was the last thing I expected, all things considered. My own life was fairly devoid of belief. Charlie considered himself a Lutheran, because that's what his parents had been, but Sundays he worshipped by the river with a fishing pole in his hand. Renee tried out a church now and then, but, much like her brief affairs with tennis, pottery, yoga, and French classes, she moved on by the time I was aware of her newest fad.

"I'm sure all this sounds a little bizarre, coming from a vampire."

He grinned and took my hand in his, knowing how their casual use of that word never failed to shock me. "But I'm hoping that there is still a point to this life, even for us. It's a long shot, I'll admit," he continued in an offhand voice staring at the lingering flames. "By all accounts, we're damned regardless. But I hope, maybe foolishly, that we'll get some measure of credit for trying."

"I don't think that's foolish," I whispered.

His eyes found mine at my admission while his thumb gently traced circles on the top of my hand. I hadn’t realised how close the two of us had become while he bandaged my arm.

I couldn't imagine anyone, deity included, who wouldn't be impressed by Carlisle.

I felt his fingers slowly begin to trail up my arm until they finally came to rest at the nape of my neck, while his thumb continued the gentle strokes across my cheek.

He was beautiful.

I’d never really appreciated the sight of him. The bright gold of his eyes was the same as Edward’s, yet they were framed by thick, dark lashes making them pop against the rest of his fair features. He leaned his head in close to my neck, inhaling softly.

“You’re the very first one to agree with me,” he replied, his breath tickling my skin.

“I am?” I asked speculatively.

He pulled back slightly to hold my gaze again, but then his eyes flickered to my lips, darkening as they met mine once more. His lips were so close I was scared to breathe, afraid to break the moment.

“Yes,” he said letting his lips brush over mine.

I couldn’t resist any more. I inclined my head meeting his lips delicately. They were cold against my own, but the heat in his gaze chased away any discomfort.

The kiss was gentle at first, but it soon turned hungry as he squeezed my neck, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and biting down hard.

I gasped, tasting a drop of my own blood. Carlisle smirked and repositioned his thigh to be between my legs so that I straddled it while still perched on his desk. I arched my back allowing my clit to grind against him as his lips found mine once more. He pushed me back on the desk, causing multiple items to crash to the floor, before he was back pressed against me trailing kisses down my neck. His hand grabbed my leg, trailing higher up my thigh until he hitched my dress to my hip. That’s when I felt the hard length of him push against my throbbing clit, straining to get out.

I rolled my hips impatiently. Yet he pulled abruptly away.

I let out a little whine. I wanted him now!

“Not so fast,” he teased.

Before I could even comprehend what was happening, Carlisle ripped my dress clean down the middle faster than my eyes could see. It left me only in my black lacy thong, which didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Sprawled out in front of him, he eyed me hungrily, causing my nipples to peak in anticipation.

He let a single finger trace a lazy circle around each of them before continuing down, past my navel to my most sensitive spot, pausing when he felt the wetness there. His smile then was full of male arrogance.

“Please…” I moaned, “I need...”

“Need what?” Carlisle tormented me by slipping a single finger in my entrance.

“More.” I whispered.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. What do you need?” he mocked.

“MORE!” I said, nearly yelling with my impatience.

He pinched one of my nipples in response, sending shock waves through me and continuing to do so while undoing the top button of his black slacks.

His cock finally sprung free.

My mouth nearly watered at the sight of his thick size already dripping with precum. Palming himself, he guided the tip over my clit sliding up and down in a slow but deliberate manner.

“Is this what you want?” he murmured in my ear.

The hand which was pinching my nipple moved to encircle my neck, lightly squeezing.

A whimper was my only response.

Carlisle let out a feral snarl, thrusting into me in one hard motion. I’ve never felt so full in my life. I clenched around him, trying to adjust to the sudden size, but just as soon as he was buried inside of me, he removed himself pausing for just a moment before slamming back into me forcing a cry from my mouth.

He squeezed my throat in response, cutting the blood flow to my head. My vision blurred, all I could focus on was Carlisle’s brutal pace and the building pressure between my thighs. He lifted one of my legs to rest on his shoulder allowing him to push even deeper, my eyes watered. But he didn’t slow down.

His fingers began rubbing slow circles over my clit.

“That’s a good girl,” he sighed, “Are you going to come for me?”

I climbed higher and higher, the pressure in my core becoming nearly unbearable while my tears spilled and ran down my cheeks.

He released the hand around my throat, and I exploded. My orgasm shattered through me. He took hold of both my legs, gripping my knees as he continued to pound into me, feeling my walls clench around him as I rode out the orgasm. Carlisle’s movements became erratic until he let out a roar of pleasure as he finally found release, collapsing on top of my naked chest.

My breaths were heavy, yet my heart began to slow. Carlisle lifted his head planting a soft kiss on my lips and then my forehead.

“Good girl,” he said softly, before he removed himself entirely, passed me a spare jacket and walked swiftly from the room, leaving me lying on the desk contemplating whether or not I’d be capable of walking myself.

#one shot #smut #twilight #carlisle cullen #bella swan #carlisle x bella #spicy books #vampire

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theanonymousopossum · 3 months

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The Threads that Bind Us Part 3

@siriusleee It's here! Part 3 has arrived, and Elain and Azriel have officially met. Hope you love it!

TW: none

The sound of music filled the air, and the party was in full swing. Despite their apparent hostility towards the king, most of the kingdom had shown up for the party, wearing whatever the nicest thing they owned was. As such, there was a range from formal suits to overalls with only a few mud stains.

Azriel’s doulon had quickly briefed him on the course of the evening: all the guests would arrive, then would come the king and Princess Elain, dancing would occur, and then would come the banquet for the nobles and important personnel. Small trays piled high with small snacks were dotted around the edges of the room already, but apparently an entire feast had been planned afterwards, though only for the wealthy, at which point the king would give a speech in honour of his daughter, and then the guests were free to mingle as they pleased.

As honoured guests of the king, Azriel and the other men were provided with the formal attire they would need, as well as permissions to attend the banquet and afterparty. Dancing couples floated around the room, spinning and swaying to the sound of the violins playing a classic dancing song.

Azriel knew how to dance, given that his profession often required him to infiltrate very elegant settings, though he did not prefer to, and as such, he was hanging around the sides of the room, seeing if he could pick up on any important fragments of conversation.

So far his efforts had yielded nothing promising, only some vague palace gossip from the wealthy folk and complaints about harvest from the lower classes.

Azriel took a few steps backwards, intending to make another sweep, when he walked directly into someone behind him.

The person stumbled, and Azriel quickly reached out his hand to steady her. A noble, based on the dress she was wearing, though which one he couldn’t place until-

As the young woman looked up into his eyes, he realized he had accidentally crashed into Princess Elain, whom he presumed had been trying to escape the ball without being caught.

“My lady,” he said, bowing slightly, “my deepest apologies. I didn’t see you there.”

“Not at all,” she responded with a smile, accepting his proffered hand, “in fact, you were just the man I was hoping to speak with.”

Not trying to escape, then. Though why on earth was she speaking to him?

“What may I do for you, my lady?” he said, polite but with an air of confusion.

“You are aware of the monster that has been ravaging our cities?” she asked him.

“I am, lady. I was under the impression that our task would be to defeat this monster.”

“Yes. So far, all whom my father has sent to destroy it have failed. However, the gods have spoken to me. I believe it is you who will be able to lift my curse, and be able to defeat the Archetaur. However, you will not be able to do it without my help.”

Azriel’s mind was spinning. This was not at all what he had anticipated when he came down here into the ball. But the princess was offering him aid, and from all he could calculate, her offer was genuine. The part that stuck out to him was the part about a curse.

Stories of Princess Elain had of course floated around all the islands, most claiming her a shy, beautiful girl who kept largely to herself. Azriel was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to her than met the eye. So he decided to take a chance.

“You honour me, princess, with your confident words. Perhaps you would honour me further with a dance? I wish to know more about your curse, and about what it is that I must do,” he said, with a stoke of boldness. He hadn’t planned on asking her to dance, but as a smile graced her beautiful mouth, some tiny, irrational part of him would die to see her smile like that again.

“I would be delighted,” she said, and he led her out to the dance floor.

—---------------

Elain was very satisfied with herself. Having attracted the attention of the man-Azriel, she had learned- and having successfully said her piece, she was delighted that he was at least considering her help.

As she had rested before the ball, a dream had come to her. A man with dark skin, dark hair, and dressed in a white toga had spoken to her. His face was regal, but he spoke kindly to her.

“Elain,” he had said, “Elain my child. You have suffered much for a crime that you did not commit. Take heart, girl, for the favour of the gods is with you. There is a way your curse may be broken. The man that you have seen shall break your curse, if he should choose to accept your help. Trap the creature within its lair, and give him this. He will know what to do with it when the time is right.”

As soon as he finished, he pulled out of thin air a ball of what appeared to be soft yarn, golden in colour. She took it hesitantly.

“Good luck, child. Flee this island if your curse is broken. Flee, and do not look back.”

With all that said, the man in white vanished, and Elain awoke, confused about her dream. In her hand rested the yarn that had been given to her.

She took this as confirmation that whomever it was that she had spoken with, the man really was a god, and Elain know firsthand the consequences of angering a god. Besides, it wasn’t like she had much other option than to trust him.

With Azriel’s hand in hers, they swept out onto the dance floor, and for once the princess felt completely unbothered by the eyes that tracked her every movement. No longer were they foxes chasing a young dove. Elain was strong, and if everyone in this palace was too useless to break the curse, then she would just have to do it herself.

A/N: Thus concludes Part 3. Next chapter will be dance scene, and some more information on how exactly Azriel will be fighting this monster. Let me know what you think, I love comments from everyone!

#elriel fanfiction #elriel #theanonymousopossum #the threads that bind us #elain x azriel #pro elriel

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meiieiri · 3 months

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holy shit. I didn't think Gojo could sink any lower in WE but then he put his hands around her neck and CHOKED her. immediately no!! the reddest of red flags!!! she needs to run in the opposite direction and not look back

there is really no hope or redemption for abusive men who put their hands on their partners in such a violent and sadistic way I'm sorry!! there is simply no way to come back from that. even if they eventually end up on better terms, their entire relationship will be overshadowed by the fact that he physically abused her on their wedding day in a fit of narcissistic rage. damn.

it doesn't matter what he suspects her of doing (stealing the earrings that she would somehow even know about or know where they were kept in his room???) or even if he thinks she's a gold digger who made a deal for money with his parents, nothing warrants straight up strangulation!!! walk away girl!!!! you shouldn't have to play therapist to try and fix a broken man and you sure as hell don't deserve to be a punching bag while he sorts out his own fucking mess

This is not a child who doesn't know any better. this is a fully grown adult man that is using his shitty relationship with his parents as a reason to take out his anger on someone weaker and more vulnerable in every sense. physically, financially, and social-status wise.

OH and the fact that his parents know about his violent tendencies and allowed y/n to be with him after that?!? they're sick in the head too. they sent her to the slaughterhouse and had the audacity to act sorry about it omg. The mom is worse imo because she's also a massive enabler of his atrocious behaviour. She knows exactly who her son is and still allowed an innocent woman to fall into the path of his destruction. all to save their shitty image. fuck the royal family reputation shit bro y'all aint special or different you still eat shit and sleep like the rest of us!!! ugh screw the lot of them (except Suguru bahaha)

honestly Himiko.......... you can keep him girly pop lmao!!! no wonder they're so attracted to one another, they're both terrible human beings tripping on the imaginary power they think they have over the rest of society. smh. all that money and still no class.

p.s I hope the damn butler dude who delivered the earrings exposes all they ugly asses!!!!! fuck them up!!!

Honestly, I’m so excited to see how else this fic turns out, because there was a massive reason behind Satoru’s rampage, not saying it could ever hope to justify why he was so angry to the point of strangling Y/N, but there is some layer of complexity to his destructive behavior that only Himiko knows about in the rawest sense. What makes her actions more disturbing is the fact that she knew about all that and still chose to exploit it to put Y/N in the frying pan. This woman knows nothing but hatred, greed is her God, and when Satoru was completely broken, she put his pieces back together however she wanted which is the reason we have this version of Satoru today.

Not saying he’s blameless, but if there’s one thing I’ll stand by, it’s the chilling fact that Himiko has toyed with the prince long enough and all that is about to come crashing down at her feet. Before all this, just a saddening fact, Satoru was just as beloved as Suguru in the court of public opinion, his people loved him, and he wasn’t so different from Y/N herself.

As his father said to Himiko in the first chapter: “I’ve allowed you to lead my son astray long enough.”

#⚘—letters to ei #fic: water’s edge

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ianthonydeftones69 · 3 months

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Ian imagine pt 1 x3

Ian x reader:

Imagine, you and Ian just got done hanging out on * your * college campus, and he makes the first move on you x3

Ian: “Soo,” he says as he leans his body against the wall of the campus coffee shop, “What class did you have later in the day?”

You: “Oh, uhm,” you stammer around all the forgotten times in your head, until you’re able to pull out the right time for your upcoming lecture. “5:45, why? What’s up?”

Your head spins with all the possible things Ian could want to ask you. Would this cater to your delusional imagination, Ian finally asking you two to hang out in his dorm.. Alone.. Without people?

Ian: His eyes manage to look everywhere in the busy room except in your direction for a brief moment as he messes with the paper ring on his coffee cup. “Well I was just thinking, maybe we could crash at my dorm for a bit and play some Zelda,” one of his signature high-pitched laughs escapes from his mouth before he catches hold of his sanity. “You know, if it’s alright with you.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up in your chest, wondering if this is what death feels like. This was it, you thought to yourself, you must have died and gone to heaven. Sure, you’ve had a crush here and there, but never worked up the courage to talk with them, let alone, be alone with them in their own dorm room. You didn’t even know how things would go if you guys ever did become an item, as Ian was one of your friends and you did not want to ruin that.

You: “Ian, your coffee,” you blabber as you point to the drink running down his arm. Poor guy, he must’ve gripped it too hard out of fear. Or excitement, you couldn’t tell. You run to the stand next to the counter and frantically grab a bunch of napkins, running back to Ian and cleaning up some of the coffee from his wrist and arm.

You: “Are you alright?” You say as you continue wiping it off of him, knowing how hot the liquid was. You could see the steam coming out of the small drinking hole on the lid of the cup, so you assumed it must have hurt him a decent amount to have it spill on his bare skin. You hold the napkin on one spot on his arm, lingering for an extended period of time, much longer than you had anticipated yourself to. “Oh god,” you scramble around and remove the napkin and your hand after you realize how awkward the amount of time was.

Ian: “Oh shit,” he mutters to himself as he watches and listens to you rambling on as if your life depended on it. He loved how cute and jittery you seemed, and it nearly killed him to have your lingering touch removed so suddenly. “Oh owww, it hurts, YEOWCH” he winced sarcastically, hoping you would take the hint and touch his “burn” again.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2 HEHE xDxD

#smosh crew #old smosh #ian hecox #ian x reader #smosh #stay tuned

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dross-the-fish · 6 months

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what do you think of the 1994 Frankenstein movie?

I'll be honest, I hate on that one more for its wasted potential than anything else. I feel like it tried to adapt the book but then it kept adding stupid shit and missing the mark.

Let's start with it's biggest crime. Kenneth Branagh, our director.

Oh Kenny Branagh my beloathed. We meet again. I've had it out for you ever since I had to stomach your ridiculous Shakespeare movies in high school drama class. I've watched as you brought your overwrought hammy sensibilities to Agatha Christie's Poirot and now here you are, injecting all of your overblown histrionics into Frankenstein.

I didn't think it was possible to be too dramatic for Frankenstein. But by god you've done it. There is so much scenery chewing, screeching, writhing and sweating in this that I actually started to feel fatigued and clocked out mentally about half way through the film.

Kenneth cast himself as the lead and I hate this version of Victor so much.

Wtf is this? Why does he have abs? Why is he in his mid 30's? Where is my sickly waif who gets feverish at the drop of a hat? Why have you done this?

Also I know they're canonically engaged but I really dislike for Victor and Elizabeth to be horny for each other especially in this movie because they keep bringing up their relationship as siblings and it's just eugh, please don't talk about her like that and then remind us that she's your sister you fucking weirdo. Their relationship in the book comes off as super uncomfortable to me and I swear Victor is way more into Robert and Henry than he is Elizabeth. Naturally this movie decided it should have next to no homoeroticism.

"How do brothers and sisters say good bye?" - start aggressively making out. No I'm not joking this movie goes out of its way to remind you that they are siblings.

.... And then it goes there with it.

Victor actually proposes to her and then asks her to come to Ingolstadt with him or offers to stay in Geneva with her and it's at that point where I'm like: did you read this book? Victor dodged their semi-arranged engagement like the woman had cooties and didn't write to her for two years because he's an obsessive, neurotic wreck.

Oh yeah and Henry Clerval is in it.

Oh were you hoping for more of him? That's a shame because so was I.

I've mentioned that this movie is over dramatic. But that really can't be understated. It's like a mac truck crashing through an English garden. No subtlety at all. If a character has to feel something they're usually screaming at the top of their lungs. Victor screaming at the creature to live, the creature literally ripping Elizabeth's still beating heart from her chest and showing it to Victor. They decided the bride should be Elizabeth and that there should be weird tension between her and the creature. Then after she's brought back to life she sets herself on fire and starts running down the halls of the manor.

I should probably have found that more tragic than I did but I just found the whole thing silly.

Justine's death in particular should have been more heavy and somber. She gets dragged off by a mob and hung. The scene is violent and cruel but it lacks the tragedy of the book. We have none of Justine quietly giving up and Elizabeth vehemently refusing to believe she's guilty. It's one of the few character building moments Elizabeth gets and this movie takes what should be a touching, somber and heartbreaking scene and turns it into a spectacle.

Everyone's reaction to everything is to do the most extreme thing possible but they never actually earn it because moments were the film SHOULD have emotional weight are kind of glanced over. The book has a lot of themes of grief and isolation but the film doesn't really explore those aspects effectively. It never stops to have a quiet or thoughtful moment. Almost like it's afraid the audience will get bored if someone isn't shrieking at the top of their lungs and some action heavy drama is going down.

The pacing in this film is jarring. Kenneth Branagh has a love for lavish sets, beautiful scenery and his films, if nothing else, are opulent spectacles, there are moments in this film where the cinematography is actually quite beautiful but I always feel that it's wasted by clumsy execution.

There are also scenes that come so painfully close to working, like early on in the movie Elizabeth and Justine drag Victor away from his work to go on a picnic and he only goes because he's hoping for a storm. He puts down a lightning rod and has everyone get down so they can observe the strike. I thought that could have been really neat and a good way to set up Victor's obsession but the execution was so clunky and the moment the lightning strikes and the four of them feel the static isn't allowed to sit and breathe. It jolts to the very next scene with no transition.

There are things I like about Robert De Nero's creature.

I like his design, even if it's not book accurate. I don't inherently like the idea of him being a resurrected cadaver of a specific criminal but I do, at times, almost like what they do with it, like having him wonder who all of his various parts came from. De Niro is a strong actor and I feel like there were the makings of a good performance here and it was stifled under bad writing and directing. I actually like most of the scenes where the creature speaks to Victor and the line "What of my soul? Do I have one? Or was that a part you left out? Who were these people of which I am comprised? Good people? Bad people?" is spoken with such poignant suffering that you really see how lost the creature is and it drives home the tragedy of the creature's condition. The creature is begging Victor to see him as human and Victor cannot or will not.

But these rare moments of something good peeking out are few and far between and the movie devolves again into it's predilection for overblown bombast. Even the final scene where the creature finds Victor dead on Robert Walton's ship isn't allowed to have the gravitas it deserves because Victor's funeral ends with the ice breaking in yet another tedious action sequence and the creature floats out to sea on a chunk of the broken ice setting himself and Victor's corpse on fire.

This was a moment in the movie that should have been handled with dignity and regret and I got this:

There's really not much else to say about this film. I went into it hoping for a good Frankenstein adaptation and I tried to find salvageable scraps but there just wasn't enough good to make the movie worthwhile for me.

Anyway, sorry this turned into a whole review but I was bitterly disappointed in this film and ended up having a lot to say.

#1994 frankenstein #Frankenstein #Dross reviews

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