#we are definitely getting some one shots out of these loose ends
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I WISH I NEVER MET YOU.
pairing: ex!ellie williams x reader
warnings: SUGGESTIVE mdni 18+... not sm*t but close... cursing, drinking, bitchy ellie
a/n: i love this song and was like wait... i need to write a fic based off of this song so i did that and i just love mean and spiteful ellie like... i apologize.. ai audios in the fic <3 reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.3k
"tryna forget the seven minutes we had in heaven."
The world was spinning.
Or that was what it felt like. The tequila you had downed earlier was now starting to mix with the joint you shared with Dina earlier on her front step. She had held the nearly finished stub in between her fingers and had her other hand tracing circles on the fleshy part of your thigh. It was all innocent as you laughed about the new job she had started and her weird coworker who had asked her out a few times. It was all innocent until she mentioned Ellie and how she said she was going to stop by later that night.
It wasn’t a party, but it wasn’t not a party. A few of your friends had gathered at Dina and Cora’s new place, a housewarming party done their way. Inside a few friends had gathered around a table playing some card game and taking shots, but you needed some fresh air and Dina had followed you. From out here you could hear the faint music coming from inside, and the streetlights made Dina’s skin look golden, but it was still early and you were already fairly drunk.
“She said she’s coming?” you confirmed, needing to double-check that Ellie agreed to be in the same room as you.
“Yeah,” Dina coughed, taking a deep hit of the joint, the end glowing yellow and orange, “Said she feels bad about not coming around anymore.”
“Right,” you scoffed, grabbing the joint from her and taking a deep hit, closing your eyes as you blew out the smoke.
“Can you not do that tonight?” Dina set her face up in a pout, eyes dramatically wide, “She’s finally getting over whatever this was and I just want us to be normal again.”
“I’m not doing anything,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter, “I tried to talk to her but she didn’t want to. Not my fault.”
“But isn’t it?” Dina started. She knew she was crossing a boundary she shouldn’t, but she was also tipsy and exhausted from the standoff you and Ellie had.
She wasn’t wrong, it was technically your fault. Months ago you were at a party gathering just like this, twice as drunk as you were right now. Some idiot, probably Cora, had suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven, just like you all had done in high school. No one in the room was sober, therefore everyone agreed.
A circle was formed in the living room, everyone sitting with their legs criss-crossed on the floor, giggling and blushing like 10th graders. One couple had decided to sit it out and watch the game from the couch. Two seats to your left sat Ellie, hair pulled back into a loose bun and her face already a bright red. She never was your closest friend, but she was still someone you talked to often. You’d occasionally Facetime, send each other TikToks, and sit next to each other if the group went out for dinner. But you were not her best friend, and she definitely wasn’t yours.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about her often. She had this girlish charm that usually translated as awkwardness and she would always make jokes under her breath, just loud enough for only you to hear them. You didn’t notice how red she got whenever she made you laugh like she had just won the world’s biggest prize. But besides that, she was cute. Really cute, and perpetually single. The group would often make jokes asking why she never dated anyone, and she would just make some comment about how she was waiting for the ‘right one’. Her eyes would always flicker over to you when she said that.
But this night, when she spun the bottle and it landed on you she nearly choked. You looked up at her with your doe eyes, those fucking eyes, she thought, and she nearly lost it. Everyone was laughing, clapping, and hollering at the idea of the two of you being locked in a dim closet for 7 minutes.
“We don’t have to…” She started, preparing herself for rejection, “if you’re not comfortable.”
“Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”
Click.
The door locked the two of you inside the tiny room. This close to you she could smell you. She could smell the liquor coming off of you in waves mixing with vanilla perfume. There was just enough light for her to make out your features, the tip of your nose, and the crease in between your eyebrows. From this close, she could see everything.
“So…” her voice faltered, nervousness seeping into her tone, “what do we do?”
“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you whispered back, your voice immediately sending a flood to her pants.
“Do you want me to?” She whispered back, eyes searching your face and landing on your lips. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, before nodding. Fuck. She took a shaky breath, her calloused fingers grazing the open skin of your waist. Her fingers were cold but your body ran hot, you were unsure if it was the alcohol or her having this effect on you. Her fingertips curled inwards, pulling you closer to her.
You were now chest to chest, both of you heavy breathing despite not having kissed yet. You were so close that she could feel your heartbeat and your tits. She gripped you a little bit harder causing you to groan. It was all so painfully slow, each movement dragged out. She dipped her head down, her lips now just hovering over yours making your eyelids flutter closed. You could feel her smile before she kissed you, as slow and languid as her movements were before.
Her lips were soft, tongue peeking through and grazing your teeth, urging them open. She was kissing your like her life depended on it. Your hands gripped at her neck, trying to pull her closer but she stumbled forward pushing you into the shelf.
“Fuck,” she breathed in between a wet kiss, “you okay?”
“Mhm,” You hummed. Her hand moved down now, ghosting your ass before giving it a light squeeze and lifting your thigh up so she could get even closer. If it kept going like this she was going to be inside of you within minutes. She pushed closer, her clothed cunt griding up against yours, causing you to gasp.
“Feel good?” She teased, now moving to kiss up your jaw when-
Click.
The two of you separated, hands smoothing out your clothes as the door opened. It was obvious what had happened, a little bruise had formed on your jaw where she had kissed, and she was now wearing lipstick she didn’t come to the party wearing.
That night you went home with her.
You shuddered thinking of that night, not knowing it was the beginning of the end. Whatever relationship you had with her was now ruined, and it was your fault. You spent nights crying over how much of your fault it was, but that wouldn’t change anything. You ended things, and Ellie wanted nothing to do with you now.
“I guess,” you shrugged, “but people break up every day Dina. People move on.”
It was Dina’s turn to scoff as she snatched the tiny joint back from you, “You don’t move on that easily when you’re in love with someone.”
“She was not in love with me,” you rolled your eyes again, your high making you feel anger more than anything now.
“Oh, so you’re just fucking stupid,” Dina deadpanned, taking another hit, giggling as you shoved her playfully.
“Oh, fuck you,” you laughed, trying to keep your real emotions at bay.
“Can’t,” she laughed, blowing smoke out her nose, “Ellie would probably murder me.”
The conversation wasn’t productive, but you didn’t want to be on the front step when Ellie arrived. You feared that if she saw you, she probably wouldn’t even come to the door, let alone inside. You honestly missed her, and you were beginning to forget what she even sounded like.
Thirty minutes had passed and you started nursing your third drink, playing beer pong in the backyard when you noticed a familiar sound. Her laugh, over everything, was the only thing you heard.
“Oh, um I have to use the bathroom,” you excused yourself running up the stairs and straight into the kitchen where Ellie was now alone, getting a drink from the fridge. She obviously didn’t see you come in, or thought you were Dina because she was speaking.
“You only bought Truly’s,” she scoffed from the fridge, “fucking lame.”
“Still better than a Four Loko,” you joked. You watched her pause, her whole body stiffening before standing up straight and closing the door. She stared at the refrigerator so she didn’t have to look at you. You watched her chest rise and fall as she took deep breaths.
“What do you want?” Her tone was much colder now, her voice icy and mean.
“Just wanted to say hi,” your voice was small, you hated yourself for it.
“Well, don’t,” she shook her head, turning to the counter now, the hard liquor lined up in front of her. She picked up vodka, bad choice.
“Can we just-” you stepped next to her, voice in a whisper loud enough she could hear. She tensed up as you stood close to her and you hated the position you were in.
“No, we can’t,” She shook her head, pulling a red solo cup from its place on the counter and pouring the vodka in the cup, “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“But-”
“No fucking ‘buts’. You don’t get everything you want, okay?” She looked at you now, her green eyes now accompanied by dark circles. Her freckles were more prominent with summer finally coming to an end. She looked tired, but still beautiful, “You’re so fucking selfish.”
“I’m selfish because I couldn’t date you?” You laughed bitterly, that third drink hitting you like a bag of bricks, “That’s real rich considering you’re the one who’s been an asshole to me because you can’t fuck me anymore.”
She looked pissed. Her hands gripped the sides of the counter as she looked down at it, trying to stop herself from doing what she wanted to. Instead, she downed the vodka, not even flinching.
“No one wants to fuck you,” she looked at you, eyes glossed over, “and you’re the one who dumped me over text like a fucking coward.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m an asshole to you because I want to make it perfectly clear I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to fuck you, I don’t want to see you, and I definitely don’t want to hear any sob story about how you ‘couldn’t’ do it. You’re a pathetic loser who broke up with me over text on our 6 month anniversary.”
“Ellie,” a voice from behind you caused you both to turn around. You wiped at the tears rolling down your face, “What the fuck?”
It was Dina, standing with her arms crossed as she watched you two in disappointment. You ran off pushing past her and into the bathroom, crying pathetically on the toilet and blowing your nose in the toilet paper. Back in the kitchen Dina had approached Ellie, an eyebrow raised as if she was waiting for an answer.
“She just,” Ellie poured another cup, “she gets under my fucking skin, okay?”
“But talking to her like that?” She shook her head in shame, “What’s gotten into you?”
“She has!” Ellie replied, “That shit fucking hurt, okay? And I let her get away with it at first because I loved her but all she thinks is that I’m mad because I can’t fuck her. I’m over it.”
“She’s just saying that,” Dina’s voice was now more tender as she talked to Ellie, “she misses you and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”
“She doesn’t fucking miss me,” Ellie downed the second cup.
“You just tell yourself that because you wouldn’t know how to feel if it was true.”
“If she missed me she wouldn’t have done that,” Ellie sighed.
“Not everything is black and white,” Dina sighed looking to the side. “Just try to get over it before the trip. It’s a really big deal to Cora and I don’t want it to be a mess because you both are so miserable.”
“I don’t think I can come, D,” Ellie shook her head, fingers tapping on the counter, “Not like this, not with her.”
“Ellie, please don’t do this,” Dina held her shoulders, her eyes wide and sad. Ellie had a soft spot for Dina, which was the only reason she came to the housewarming party, but she was unsure of how much she would take before she snapped.
“Fine,” she sighed, “but I’ll be driving by myself. I’m not sitting in a two-hour-long car ride with her.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dina squeezed Ellie tight, making her groan and attempt to push her off.
---
The trip came sooner than expected, the party being nearly a month ago. You drove down with Dina and Cora, singing Lana songs the whole drive. The Hamptons were quiet around this time and Cora (and her rich family) owned a vacation house out there on the water. You spent nearly every summer here, you, Dina, Cora, Ellie, Jesse, Faye, and Cora’s twin brother, Orion all crammed into their giant house. Except this time was different. This was the trip that Dina and Cora were going to announce their engagement.
No one knew yet, and Dina had wanted your little group of friends to be the first to know. A special intimate moment between the group and the place it had started. However, when you pulled up to the house, driving up the long driveway, you saw Ellie’s jeep parked out front with her and some girl leaning against the side of the car.
You all hopped out, but you stood to the side as you watched Dina and Cora hug Ellie and this new girl.
“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind,” Ellie spoke, eyes drifting to yours for a moment before she smirked, “this is my girlfriend, June.”
Fuck.
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x reader smut#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fan fic#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams oneshot#modern!ellie williams#college!ellie williams#ellie williams one shot
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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS
The finale!
Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.
Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.
This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.
I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.
There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.
This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.
The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.
It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.
The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.
Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.
The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.
I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.
Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.
Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.
This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)
Some kind of Jake universe.
A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.
The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.
This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.
Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.
She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.
Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.
There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.
Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.
Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.
In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.
And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...
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What’s left of me?
✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: The one where your pursuit for excellence leads you down a path of self destruction, and you’re slowly loosing yourself. You didn’t expect a certain boy in your year would be your saving grace. Alternatively: Mattheo makes you realise you’re more than what you think you are.
A/N: I guess this could very easily be like a prequel to the other mattheo one shot ‘i’m here’. This is definitely a bit self indulgent but we all have our things 😻😻
Warnings: Allusions to overdosing (brief), mentions of not eating.
Songs: Nothings New - Rio Romeo
18 days.
18 days till you would be finished with all of this.
Technically, it would actually be 408 days till you finished school and graduated from this godforsaken place, but 18 more till you finished with exams.
You weren’t sure how many more hours you could spend hunched over indecipherable handwriting, pouring over text till your eyes stung and your back ached. Surrounded by a stack of books and rolls of parchment, you couldn’t even begin to figure out where you ended and the library began. You had taken up a huge table (that could seat at least 4) for the better part of 17 hours, sat on the same chair since 6:00 am.
You stifle a small groan of pain as you roll your wrist, stiff and sore from the hell that was ancient runes.
There are ink splotches all over your skin, and you’re sure the amount of work you were pouring into this stopped being effective nearly 5 hours ago.
Your eyes flicker up and scan over the once-packed library that had slowly dwindled down to a few students, half of whom were in the same boat as you.
To you, being the last person in the library was a huge sign of success. It meant you were more dedicated and more hard-working.
In reality, the truth couldn’t be any further from that, but in your mind, if you weren’t milking yourself over every last piece of work it simply wasn’t being done right.
The hushed murmurs and sounds of parchment being unfurled fade into the background as your quill scratches furiously against the parchment, mind running at a million miles an hour.
You ignore the pang in your stomach as you work; you haven’t eaten today. You didn’t want to get up at any point to get food, for fear of your place being taken.
Now, you didn’t want to get up for another reason. It was well past the library's open hours and Madame Pince was angrily fussing about, bustling around everyone as she got them to leave. A testament to how long you had been there, she didn’t even seem to notice you, and you were worried getting up and walking about would break this sort of invisibility shield you had going on.
Come to think of it, you hadn’t really drunk any water either. You brought your bottle with you but had forgotten to fill it up. It was fine though, the human body could last for 3 days without water - it could wait. Your upcoming exams were far more important.
In Scandinavia, the Elder Futhark remained in use until some time around the eighth century (the time of the Eddas), when drastic changes in the Old Norse language occurred, and corresponding changes in the runic alphabet were made to accommodate the new sounds. However, unlike the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the Younger Futhark (as it is now called) reduced the number of runes from 24 to 16, and several runes came to represent multiple sounds. The forms of the runes were also changed and simplified.
Gods, you couldn't take this anymore. You felt sick and exhausted. You ignore the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, rubbing a hand over your face as you contemplate finishing off and going to bed.
But every time you think of stopping a horrible feeling emerges in your stomach, consuming you with anxiety. The weight of impending exams and the fear of not doing well gnawing at your determination. You glance at the clock, realizing it's well past midnight, and the library is now completely empty except for you.
Madame Pince, finally noticing your presence, approaches with a disapproving look. "You know, the library does close at a certain hour. I can't have students staying here all night," she scolds, but her tone softens as she sees the exhaustion in your eyes.
“Sorry. I lost track of time” You mumble, haphazardly cramming your stuff into your bag. You get up, and the room spins for a second. You stumble but manage to catch yourself, holding onto the table as Madam Pince reaches out a hand to help you recover.
“You need to take care of yourself. No exam is worth this much stress,” She says, eyeing you with concern. If only she knew how far that was from the truth. You felt as though you had so little to your name. Performing well, overachieing. That was what you were known for. It was the only thing you felt was yours. Everyone else had character, they were distinctly themselves. They had hobbies, interests, and friendships that defined them. But for you, it was always about excelling academically. Without that, you became nobody. You were no more than the number on your papers, and the reminder weighed down on you like an unrelenting burden.
By some miracle you manage to stumble down the empty halls of the castle into the Slytherin common room, which seemed paradoxically warm considering its grandiose stone structure and dark, moody lighting. You carelessly drop your bag onto a table closest to the fireplace, trudging up to your room as you battle the sleep that threatens to consume you.
It's dark, and your roommates have long gone to bed.
“Lumos” You murmur, hiding the blinding light that emerges from the tip of your wand with the lining of your school robes, dimming it slightly. You grope blindly at your bedside drawer, stopping when you feel the familiar smooth glass bottle, that fits perfectly in your palm. You slip it into the pocket of your robes, slowly shutting the drawer as you make your way back down to the common room. You dismiss the light that shines from your wand, tossing it onto the sofa as you take a seat on the floor, in front of the low table. You read the instructions on the back of the small bottle as if you hadn’t been consuming this religiously for the past month.
Wideye potion User Guidance:
Take no more than one teaspoon every 6 hours. Effects will last for up to 8 hours. Excessive use of this potion may lead to adverse effects, and in rare cases, severe bodily harm. Users are advised not to use the maximum dosage for a consecutive 72 hours.
You’ve read it so many times, you were sure you could recite it by heart. Choosing not to heed any warnings, you pop open the cork and down the whole bottle in one go. The rancid taste of the potion burns, eliciting a shudder down your spine as you swallow down the bile that threatens to emerge. Pocketing the empty glass bottle, you stretch your arms before retrieving your books, ready to continue working.
If you were lucky, the potion might give you a boost of energy for about 3 hours or so. You had been taking it so much you had developed a sort of immunity to it, and the effects were not as potent as they used to be. The sacrifice of your well-being for the sake of productivity had become a routine, a desperate attempt to squeeze every ounce of time and focus out of your exhausted mind and body.
You have attempted to brew a stronger concoction, in the misplaced hopes that increasing the potency would counteract the effect of the immunity. However, the violent cramps and palpitations it had given you very quickly told you that wouldn't work.
You knew it was bad. It was causing irreversible damage to your body, killing you at worst. It simply wasn't sustainable. But you couldn't drag yourself out of that mindset.
Failure. Nobody.
You gritted your teeth and carried on working.
You managed to get through another potions essay, and the time on your watch read 1:00 am.
You could carry on for longer, right?
You zone out for a second, staring off at the orange embers that emerged from the fireplace, shining bright for what seemed like a millisecond before falling to the floor, turning into nothing but ash.
The orange embers flicker, and for a moment, you see yourself in them – a fleeting brightness that threatens to be extinguished. The battle between ambition and self-preservation rages on as you grit your teeth and carry on working, oblivious to the embers slowly falling into nothingness, much like your own fading sense of self.
“Why on earth are you up at this hour doing work?” A voice calls from behind you, and the momentary intrusion shocks you, sending a burst of energy through you as you spin around.
Flopping down onto the sofa next to you, leaning back with his legs lazily outstretched, was none other than Mattheo Riddle. Clad in a plain grey sweatshirt and black jeans, he eyes you with curiosity, smelling distinctively of smoke. He had most likely been out, as he so usually was at this hour. You shrug, turning back to your work.
“Exams. Need to revise” You mumble, voice cracking. You swallow, massaging your dry throat as you grimace, trying to get back to your writing.
“Revise? Merlin, you're the smartest person in our year. You don't need to be revising” Matthep leans forward, plucking a piece of parchment from your pile and examining it with a raised eyebrow.
You snatch it back, a protective instinct kicking in despite the fatigue. You hated that sentiment. Despised it, even. People always assumed your performance came naturally. That you were simply born with the ability to do well. No one seemed to consider what you had to do to get to that point, how you wore yourself down, day in and day out, till you either passed out from exhaustion or pain, neglecting your most basic needs.
"I might be the 'smartest' person, but that doesn't mean I can afford to slack off," you reply, a hint of frustration in your voice. The adrenaline from the sudden interruption starts to ebb away, leaving you feeling even more drained.
Mattheo leans back, momentarily caught off guard by your defensiveness. He had never seen you this on edge. He was so accustomed to seeing you as this familiar presence during the school day his partner for the many lessons that he didn’t have his friends in. The two of you would work together and on rare occasions, hang out with one another in the common room as well. It was a rather unlikely duo, the king of Slytherin and the academic prodigy. Yet, More often than not Mattheo found himself seeking out your presence. He never admitted it outright, but he hugely admired you. Your intelligence, your drive, it all captivated him. There were times when he hoped he could be only half the person you were.
How funny it was, for you felt the very same thing when you saw him. He seemed content. Happy. He was loved by nearly everyone. Popular, with a fun social life. He had everything you wanted without putting in any of the work.
You wanted to be like him. But you weren’t. And if you wanted anything like what he had, you had to work damn hard for it. So that's what you did. With a small sigh, you turn back to your work.
“Hey,” He says gently, his voice softening slightly. "I’m sorry. I say stupid things sometimes.” He apologies, brows furrowed as he looks at your back facing him.
“It's fine. I should be saying sorry. You didn't say anything, I just…. I’m just a bit tired, that's all.” You mumble, apologising as you get up. You stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you wearily rub your eyes.
“I'm gonna run up to my room and grab some more parchment. I’ll be down in a second,” You say, shrugging off your school robe as you turn to walk away. You ascend the stairs leading to your dorm, tossing your robe onto the sofa next to Mattheo as you do so.
Your robe slides off the sofa and hits the floor, a faint clinking sound echoing through the empty room as you disappear.
Curious, Mattheo looks down at your carelessly discarded robe. He reaches down, picking it up. It weighs heavier than it should be, and Mattheo can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, He eyes the now empty staircase before reaching into your pocket, fingers brushing against a smooth glass vial.
Not just one, but a few.
Frowning, he turns out your pocket, and four identical glass vials tumble into his lap. Picking one up, his frown only deepens as he reads the label.
“Wideye potion?” He mutters to himself, the confusion on his face morphing into something else as the pieces fit in place.
He had admired you for your intelligence and drive, and now he was confronted with the reality of your struggles. The contrast between your achievements and the seemingly carefree moments he sought with you becomes stark. He berates himself for not having noticed early, for having let you fall down such a destructive path.
Jaw clenched, he gazes at the piles of books you had been working through, rolling the empty vials between his fingers as the sound of your approaching footsteps snaps him out of his thoughts.
You pause in confusion, noticing the scrutinising depression plastered on his face as he looks up at you, rolls of parchment bundled in your hands.
"What's the Wideye potion for?" Mattheo questions, his voice cutting through the silence with an uncomfortable heaviness. He holds up the empty vials as evidence, his gaze piercing through the exhaustion in your eyes.
Caught off guard by the confrontation, you glance down at the vials and then meet Mattheo's eyes. A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, the crackling embers of the fireplace filling the empty silence.
“Research. For uh, potions.” You respond, internally berating yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse.
Mattheo's expression remains stern, a mix of frustration and genuine concern etched on his face.
"Don't bullshit me," he says, his tone direct and uncompromising. "I found these in your pocket, and 'potions research' is a shit excuse. I’m going to ask you again. What’s the wideye potion for?"
You shift uncomfortably, feeling small under his scrutinising gaze You clear your throat, speaking.
"It's just to stay awake, you know? To keep going. I only take it in extreme circumstances" you explain, your voice betraying the exhaustion that has settled in.
Mattheos jaw clenches, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side with a sigh, visibly frustrated.
“Extreme? And what would that be, hmm? Because right now I'm looking at four empty bottles, and God knows how many more you’ve thrown away.” He snaps, his expression softening as he looks at you.
You feel a lump forming in your throat as you struggle to find the right words. Why on earth were you close to tears? Why did you feel like crying?
“I-” You start, trailing off as you stare at the floor.
Mattheo cuts through the silence, his tone still stern but laced with concern. "This isn't okay. You're smart, and you know better. You can't keep doing this to yourself. What if something happens? What if you collapse or get seriously sick? It's not worth it."
After a moment, Mattheo's expression softens, and he exhales deeply. "When was the last time you ate?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.
Shit.
You pause, hesitating before admitting quietly, "Breakfast...yesterday."
Mattheo's features tighten at your admission, his eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration, anger, and genuine worry. He rises from his seat and strides towards you, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room.
"Yesterday? Are you serious?" he says sharply, his voice carrying a weight of both concern and disbelief.
You remain silent, unable to meet his eyes, feeling the shame and vulnerability washing over you.
“Seriously? Fuck, what’s wrong with you? Why would you do that to yourself?” He chastises you, and you snap.
“I have to! You don't fucking get it, do you? I don't have anything else to fall back on.” You start, dropping the parchment onto the table in front of you.
Mattheo's expression shifts from concern to confusion as you lash out. "What are you talking about? You have plenty more than just academics. You're talented, you're smart, and people care about you. Why are you reducing yourself to just grades?"
You scoff, a bitter smile playing on your lips. "Talented? Smart? What does that even mean? It's just a facade, a cover-up for the fact that without these achievements, I'm nothing. I don't have friends; I don't have hobbies or interests. What am I without my grades?"
Mattheo tries to interject, "You're a person with-"
But you cut him off, "No, you don't get it! I'm just a number, a ranking, a test score. Everything I am is tied to how well I perform academically. Do you know what it's like to feel like the only thing you're good at is studying, and even that's slipping away?" You snap anger evident in your tone as you spin around to face him, your weary eyes meeting his.
“It’s the same thing every single day. I wake up, bury myself in books, and push myself to the brink just to feel like I matter. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't talk to anyone. I’ve spent my whole life isolating myself and neglecting my most basic needs for this! If I stop now, then what's left of me?”
Tears start to well up in your eyes, and you hate yourself for showing such vulnerability. Mattheo's stern demeanour softens as he watches you unravel.
"I can't stop, Mattheo. I can't afford to. Because if I do, what's left of me?" Your voice trembles.
Mattheo's heart drops at your words, guilt and hurt clawing at his insides. He can’t fathom the idea of you suffering so much, and him being blind to it. How could you not notice how incredible of a person you are beyond all of this? He’d give anything in the world for you to see yourself through his eyes. For you to feel the way he feels when he's with you, even for a second. To know that he’d do anything you asked him to because he cared for you. Not the one who gets outstanding on all their tests.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mattheo finally speaks, his voice softer, genuine concern written across his face.
You shake your head, a mix of frustration and desperation in your eyes. “Because you wouldn’t understand. No one does. They just see the grades, the perfect student. They don’t see the mess behind it all. And I can’t let them. I can’t let anyone see me like this.”
Mattheo moves closer, his expression shifting. “You’re wrong. I do understand. Maybe not completely, but I want to. You don’t have to face this alone.”
You scoff, wiping away a tear. “Why? What do you care? You have everything, popularity, friends, a life. I’m just the study partner, the smart one. I can’t burden you with this.”
Mattheo remains silent for a second, before he speaks.
“Every other Sunday, you go down to Hogsmesde and buy a hamper of sweets form Honeydukes. You take it to the children’s school and volunteer there for an hour. Everytime you visit, you make their day.” He starts.
"You're not just grades," he says, his voice gentle. "You have quirks that make you who you are. Like the way you absentmindedly tap your foot when you're deep in thought. Or how you always carry a small notebook, and I bet it's filled with more than just class notes. I've seen you doodle in the margins."
He continues, "You have a wicked sense of humor, even if you don't show it to everyone. I've heard you snort-laugh during our study sessions. And don't even get me started on your taste in music.How you call that dastardly jazz music, i’ll never understand, but you can’t resist humming along to the tunes of the Wizarding Wireless Network when you're studying. Your fondness for Chocolate Frogs and your inexplicable aversion to pumpkin juice.”
Mattheo's eyes light up, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalls more details. "Remember that time in Charms class when you made your quill dance across the room just to see if you could do it? Or when you brewed a prank potion that turned the water in the Prefects' bathroom blue for a week? You have a mischievous side that not many people get to see." He continues, looking down at you sincerely. He remains silent for a second, eyes scanning over your face before he steps back, sighing.
“I don’t know how to do this emotional, sappy bullshit. I don’t do it. But with you, I do. I want to. Other people want to. That’s what you do.” He says, voice quiet.
You remain rooted to your spot, somewhere between disbelief and gratitude as you stare up at Mattheo. How did he know all that? Why did he know all that?
“You noticed?” You speak up, voice alarmingly quiet.
He looks at you as though you’ve just asked him whether the sky is blue.
“Of course i’ve noticed. It’s impossible not to.” He murmurs, and you know he’s being honest.
Tears prick in your eyes again, and it’s as though all that exhaustion and neglect has come crashing back down on you tenfold after Mattheo had called you out. You try blink them away but alas, you simply couldn’t. Before you can even say anything, Mattheo steps forward, pulling you into his chest as he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. He holds you tightly, not even entertaining the thought of letting go as your tears soak his sweatshirt, tentatively accepting his embrace. His heart clenches at every tear that falls from your eyes, and he can’t tell if he’s horrified or accepting of the fact that he’d give up everything to relieve you of your burdens, even if only for a day.
He rubs your back soothingly, and you can’t help but let it all out.
It’s rather cathartic, really, because you've held onto this weight for so long, and now, in Mattheo's arms, it feels like a moment of release.
As your tears eventually subside, you pull back, both embarrassed and utterly shattered. You look down, sniffling as you wipe away your tear stained eyes when Mattheo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
People often said that the eyes were a window to the soul. You never really understood that, but in this moment, you felt as though you were gazing into the very depths of Mattheos being.
With a tenderness that betrays the boundaries of ‘just friends’ , he wipes away your tears with his thumb, looking down at you.
“Come on. Let’s get you up to rest, yeah?” He hums, quietly. You nod, having to tear yourself away from his touch.
He leans down to pack away your stuff, not letting you handle a thing as he throws your stuff over his shoulder.
“You can stay in my room, if you’d like. Theodore’s out for the night so I can take his bed.” Mattheo says.
You consider it for a second. You didn’t particularly fancy heading up to your room with Mattheo, for fear of your roommate awakening to see you in such a state. You nod, speaking.
“Yes please.” You say, voice embarrassingly hoarse from having cried so much. You pray Mattheo didn’t notice.
Of course he did. But, he chose not to draw attention to it, instead resolving to run down to the kitchen to get you a cup of tea.
You follow Mattheo into his room, which you were no stranger to. Having projects together meant endless hours of collaborating, and opting to avoid being pestered by your roommate and her friends (who had a rather amusing infatuation with Mattheo), you worked in his room instead.
“Help yourself to some clothes if you’d like. They’re on the right.” He says, carefully draping your school bag and robe onto one of the desks. You thank him, smiling softly as he cleans the mess he had left.
“Go lie down. I’ll be back in a second” He says, turning away as he exits his room. Swiftly walking down to the kitchen, his head is reeling with thoughts of you.
He chose not to confront the feeling gnawing at him in light of your breakdown. He didn’t want to deal with that just yet. In no less than 10 minutes he’s carefully treading up the stairs to the dorms once more, a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and some small crackers in the other.
You hadn’t been eating, nor drinking, and the idea of you neglecting yourself so much sent Mattheo into an uncomfortable state where he found himself riddled with anxiety.
Just friends, right?
He clicks open the door to his room with his elbow, precariously walking over with the tea and crackers in hand as he goes to set them down on his bedside table. His eyes flicker over to you, and a small smile tugs at his lips as he sees you already fast asleep, curled up under the covers. The sight of your slumber brings a warmth to Mattheo's heart. He watches you for a moment, taking in the soft rise and fall of your breath, the delicate features that are usually tense with stress now softened in sleep.
The sight brings him more peace than he wishes to admit, and the looming reality that he had to eventually confront only pressed down on him further.
But for now, he didn’t care.
Because in your peace, he found happiness. And he’s sure he’d never find anything else more beautiful.
Possessed by a wave of sentiment that betrays his usual self, he can’t resist reaching out to tuck a stand of misplaced hair behind your ear. Before he can even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a soft , brief kiss to your forehead.
He pulls back and finds himself slightly taken aback by his own actions. The quiet room, filled only with the soft sounds of your sleep, almost seems to amplify the beating of his heart.
Mattheo stands there for a moment, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and confusion. Then, shaking off the unexpected surge of emotions, he retreats to Theodores bed , slipping out of his clothes as he goes to lay down. He had to resist the urge to turn around and catch a glimpse of you once again, and lets out a small sigh as he shuts his eyes.
Mattheo Riddle was not a man of sentiment. He was not soft, and he most certainly did not go out of his way for others.
You had changed that. And he couldn’t figure out whether the prospect was one he was ready to welcome.
#slytherin#slytherin boys#harry potter#tom riddle#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#slytherin boys fic#theodore nott#blaise zabini#pansy parkinson#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo x you#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle x reader comfort
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nott into you - m.s
pairings: nott reader x mattheo riddle
summary: reader's brother is theodore nott and develops feelings for his best friend mattheo
warning(s): drinking, brief makeout drugs.
not proofread
FRIDAY:
my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.
it's funny how a week can change everything.
okay! i know this looks really wrong, but i can explain.. let's go back to where this all started, monday.
-1 WEEK PRIOR.-
MONDAY:
i sit in potions, bored as ever at snapes lesson, feeling eyes on me.
i look over seeing mattheo riddle staring, which isn't totally weird, considering we've been friend's since first year, just abnormal.
this time it's different though, like some weird tension in the air, i feel as if red smoke is filling my lungs and calling out mattheo's name.
snapping out of it, i clear my throat and focus my attention onto the horribly boring, lesson
the class ends sooner than later and i take my time to collect my stuff, not noticing mattheo waiting for me.
i head to the door and meet eyes with him
"waiting for me, riddle?" i question and his lips curl upwards
"i might be, walk with me will you?" he asks and i nod, following wherever he's going.
"i noticed you staring" i mumble
"yeah and i noticed you drooling" he says and i scoff
"you think too highly of yourself riddle" i professed
"mmh i'm not so sure about that, have you met your brother?" he adds on and i realize
my brother, shit.
this flirty banter shouldn't even be happening right now, considering if theo saw he would absolutely loose his shit.
"yeah thats theo, uh- anyways i gotta go, nice talking to you riddle!-" i say in a rush, walking the other direction.
TUESDAY:
i hear the door open and look up seeing pansy, i'm currently in the slytherin common room working on some extra homework.
"hey" she says, plopping down next to me
"hey pans whats up?" i ask, putting my books down.
"okay so, i know this is a long shot.. buuuttt, there's a party tomorrow and before you say no just please please think about going!" she says the last part really fast and i laugh
"who's throwing it?" i question and she squints her eyes
"we are..?" she mumbles and my eyes widen
"pansy what!?!" i yell
"okay i know it seems bad, but some first years accidentally heard me saying how slytherin parties are the best and one thing led to another and all of a sudden i had to prove it was true and now everyones expecting a party tomorrow night and i need your help!" she rambles and i sigh
"fine."
later that day, i cross paths with mattheo again.
who cares what my brother thinks or wants for me, it's my life.
"hey mattheo, sorry about yesterday" i say with a smile and he nods
"don't worry about it sweetheart" the name makes my cheeks flush.
we kinda just stand there looking into eachothers eyes for a moment, i'm not sure how it was, but i definitely looked full of lust.
he moves closer to my ear, whispering
"you're drooling again"
i roll my eyes throwing in a, "you wish"
WEDNESDAY:
the party is all set up, and it took HOURS.
me and pansy had to rush right when classes ended to get everything ready
we're supposed to start the party in an hour but before doing that, me and my friendgroup decided to have a little fun
me, pansy, theo, mattheo, draco, enzo and blaise decided to play a friendly game of truth or dare before letting anyone else in.
"y/n" enzo says and i let out a shakey breath, not noticable enough for anybody to hear though.
"yes enzo?" i respond, eyeing him in anticipation
"what'a a dirty secret you've been hiding lately?" he asks and i smirk
maybe i could fuck with these people in a way that wouldn't expose me, but in a way... would?
"well enzo, so glad you asked. recently there has been someone catching my eye... someone who's off limits, someone i'm not allowed to touch, you could call it forbidden, but i prefer the term secrecy." i say with a smug smile, avoiding any and all eye contact with mattheo
before anyone has time to say anything, the clock chimes and the doors to the common room open, the room flooding with people from all different houses.
the rest of the night was kinda a blur, except for the end of it.
i'm too drunk to even function right now, feeling vulnerable and anxious.
god this is why i don't go to parties.
"hey beautiful" a random gryffindor says and i make a face of disgust
"jus' leave me alone" i say in hopes of peace, turning around to walk away, but instead he grabs my wrist.
i turn back to look at him seeing the no-good look on his face
"oh no" i mumble
"are you gonna like.. do bad thing's to me" i ask
i'm never drinking again i feel like an idiot.
"you just consented to it so i might as well huh baby?" he says and i groan.
"i actually have a-" without thinking i grab someones hand, anyone to get me out of this situation would be great
"mattheo?" i say looking up, seeing its him who i grabbed
well, i was going to say boyfriend but mattheo works too.
the gryffindor boy's expression quickly changes from being in control to being scared shitless.
i'm too hazy to even feel right, not paying attention to the bickering mattheo is doing, the way he's absolutely screaming at this boy.
my hand tugs mattheos arm, causing him to look down at me
"mattheo please- just get me out of here" i say, leaning onto his arm.
fuck i'm not supposed to feel like this
THURSDAY:
the last thing i remember, is mattheo dragging me out of that party.
i think he was carrying me? or was it theo? i don't really remember.
i turn over, opening my eyes seeing mattheo next to me
what the fuck.
"g'morning princess" he says and i wince, feeling the light hit my face.
"what time is it?" i ask and see him look over to his bedside table
"like 10" he says and my eyes widen as much as they can.
"it's thursday mattheo we have class!' i yell, attempting to get up
his arm lightly pushes me down
"you need to rest, do you remember what happened last night?" he asks and i shake my head
"you were drugged and you passed out." he mumbles and my eyes widen
"who the fuck drugged me??" i exclaim
"i don't know" he says and i sigh, thinking about last night trying to remember anything i can.
i don't even realize how close me and mattheo are, the way he's shirtless and the way the sun hits his eyes, his morning voice, his soft sheets.
i look down seeing me in his shirt and i quirk an eyebrow which he notices
"no don't worry uh- pansy changed you not me" he reassures and i smile.
the rest of the day we end up just talking and laughing in his dorm, only leaving for food and water.
i gotta admit, it is awfully suspicious me leaving with him last night and waking up in his dorm, now us ditching and spending the whole day together.
but like i said before, i don't care what my brother thinks.
FRIDAY:
i'm currently getting lectured by snape for missing class and i can't help but let my mind wander to mattheo
lately, thats been all my mind is full of.
the tension has been getting thicker and my desire for him has been getting needier.
i need to tell him.
i rush out of snapes lecture as soon as he's finished, rushing to the common room.
what am i even doing, i'm being way too impulsive right now, it's fine i only live once, i have to do this. i tell myself
i reach the common room and run upstairs, knocking on mattheos dorm frantically
he opens the door and i smile, suddenly feeling all of my words leave my mind, going completely blank
then i remembered, i dont need words to tell him what i need.
without thinking, i grab his cheek and kiss him, it definitely caught him by surprise, but it did for me too.
without breaking the kiss, he leads me inside and closes the door, pinning me against it.
my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.
an abrupt knock interrupts us, mattheos hand covering my mouth
"dude come on, snape is pissed you missed class and his lecture, we gotta go" a voice comes from the other side of the door.
fuck, it's my brother.
a/n: let me know if u guys want a part 2<3
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#mattheo riddle smut#blaise zabini#fluff#harry potter#slytherin#hp fandom#hogwarts#gryffindor#theodore nott x you#mattheo x y/n#madispeaks!
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but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day
“Who’s bright idea was it for us to have the party at our place?” You asked as you took a good look at the mess that was surrounding you.
“Richie. He somehow got out of hosting this year.”
“What a dick.” You joked. Well, kinda.
The staff of The Bear were known to party hard. It was evident by the state of your apartment. Everyone was excited to let loose and ring in the new year together. It had been a hectic couple of months to say the least.
New Year’s was one of your favorite holidays. It was a fresh start to new beginnings. It was also your third new year with Carmen.
“Where should we get started?”
Carmen wrapped his arms around you, “We should just go back to bed.”
“I would love to go back to bed but I can’t in good conscience knowing that we have a wreck here.” You told him as he kissed your cheek.
He groaned playfully and gave you a small squeeze, “I know. I forget that you’re a clean freak.”
“The faster we do this, the quicker we can get back in bed, Berzatto.”
“And what exactly would we do once we’re back in bed?”
“Well, I was thinking….”You leaned in closer and lightly grazed your lips against his. Just as he moved to seal the deal, you tilted your head back, “We can finally start that rewatch of Gilmore Girls.”
Carmen groaned and laughed, “That’s not what I was thinkin’ we should do.”
“Trust me, I know. You gotta get your mind out of the gutter,” you smiled, “Let’s have a game plan. Start in the living room and then finish in the kitchen.”
Carmen grabbed two garbage bags and handed you one. The both of you began picking up trash scattered around the room. You grabbed an empty champagne bottle and placed it in your bag.
“I loved the idea of people taking photos with the Polaroid this year. I’m sure we got some great shots.” You grabbed the stack that was on the floor.
Carmen moved closer to see the photos, “Is that someone’s ass?”
You chuckled, “That’s Richie’s.”
Carmen looked at you puzzled, “How the hell are you able to tell that his bare ass?”
“You can see the scar where Syd stabbed him.” You pointed out.
“Ah, yeah. Still creepy that you knew instantly.” Carmen laughed.
“Trust me, I hate that I knew it instantly too.” You glanced at the rest of the photos that were in the stack. One of Carmen and yourself caught your eye. Tina snapped the photo of the two of you candidly.
It had been close to midnight and Carmen didn’t want to let you out of his grasp before the countdown began. He wanted to savor the last moments of the year with you before ringing in the new one.
“I think we should put this one on the fridge.” You handed the picture to Carmen and it made him smile.
“Yeah, I like this one.”
“I’m glad that everyone felt comfortable here to let loose. Seeing everyone have a fun night after these last few stressful months was really nice.” You said as you grabbed the broom to sweep up some confetti. The glitter on the floor would be a bitch to clean.
“We have some more stressful months coming up,” Carmen added softly, “I hope everyone will be alright at the end of it.”
You knew he was mostly implying himself. The first year of a new restaurant opening was definitely one of the hardest. Trying to stand out from the hundreds and hundreds of already existing establishments was difficult.
Carmen put the stress of the world on his shoulders. You watched and held his hand through it all. There was nowhere else you’d rather be.
“Everyone is in a completely different place than they were when I first met them. I think you guys will be amazing and The Bear is going to be an absolute success.” You kissed his cheek and it made them a little rosy. He was so adorable when he blushed.
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do. I mean look who’s running the place. You and Syd. That’s a dream team if I’ve ever seen one.”
“You’re just gassin’ me up.” Carmen was never good at receiving compliments. That didn’t stop you from giving him dozens of them a day.
“No, I’m not. I’m telling you the truth,” you placed a hand on his chest near his heart, “I’m going to be right beside you through the good and the bad.”
Carmen placed his hand on yours. He didn’t outright say that he needed the reassurance but he was so thankful to get it. It was like you could read his mind.
He would often jump the gun and worry about things prematurely. You were the one to try and keep him grounded in the moment.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” He said softly before kissing you.
“Ditto, Berzatto. You’re stuck with me for life. I don’t ever want to not know you.”
“If I have it my way, you don’t ever have to worry about that happening.”
“Pinky promise?” You held your hand out with your pinky ready to lock with his.
“It’s a promise.”
#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you#the bear x reader#the bear imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto
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so i js finished re-reading biker!san with a friend n we NEED to know if san plays w reader or not
could you give a brief summarisation of how their story ends (or possibly a pt.2 👀)?
ahaha i read it again and i don't think i can do a full oneshot but what about a scenario? 👀
badboybiker!san x photographer!reader: (pt 1 here)
[recap: you're a photographer trying to get a shot of the golden hour for a little competition when a stranger offers to help you in any way he can. since he's a biker, you think his silhouette would make for a perfect shot and you ask him to model for you. you promise to treat him if you win some prize and he accepts on the condition that he let you take around on his bike. when he tells you his name- choi san- you recognise him as the 'bad boy' of the neighbourhood. even knowing that you should avoid him, you can't resist his charms and get familiar with him thru texts. you take him to the dinner and he gives you a ride home and when you mention that you would like to take a shot of the river next time, he asks if he can tag along- as an 'assistant'. you smile in answer]
one thing about choi san is that he knows how to get his way.
in the past few weeks, you learned a few facts about him- that his bike is his baby and no one can touch it without his permission, that only a selected few get to ride on it (which makes you wonder how you got into that list so quickly) and that he is a very fun person to be around. he has manners, he definitely knows how to treat a woman and he might be a little too good at it.
what you also learned from your friends was that he was the notorious playboy of the town, rumoured to have broken the hearts of many and having a repute for getting into fights, being involved with the wrong company and whatnot. you told yourself that these are just 'rumours' because what you heard is very different from what you've seen firsthand.
though... he is a flirt, whether intentional or not. you've convinced yourself that you wouldn't become another woman on his list if he is that sort of a person, that it is possible for the two of you to be 'just friends', however loose the definition might be.
because if you were just friends, you wouldn't be getting excited whenever you heard the buzzing of your phone around midnight. if you were just friends, you wouldn't feel disappointed to see someone else texted you or you wouldn't be disappointed if he didn't reply within a few hours. if you were just friends, your heart wouldn't skip a beat every time you saw that beautifully sculpted face of his with those dark tendrils of hair falling on his forehead, messed up from his helmet. you wouldn't be shy when you wrapped your arms around his toned, strong waist when on the bike or when you grabbed his muscular arms, realising just how broad he was. you wouldn't want him to continue teasing you, smiling at you, tucking your hair back so casually or leaning in to whisper things in your ears with that goddamned smile of his- even when the two of you were alone.
the thing was... that he caught your eye and now you couldn't get him out of your head. he claimed to be obsessed with you these days because you were funny and made him laugh like no one else, because you were natural and didn't feel like you were putting up a fake persona in his presence, because he could always talk about anything that weighed on his mind without any judgement. you told him you'd heard things about him and he asked you if you believed them.
"if there was any truth to it, you wouldn't be a completely different person from what i've heard."
but he was. and he felt so fucking guilty about hiding it from you. when you spotted a bruised lip and a cut on his cheekbone, you attended to him without questions. you believed him when he lied and told you that he had a little fall from his bike (he had a fight, actually) and he let you scold him for not being careful. when you worriedly scanned his body for other signs of injuries, he let your hands travel all over his body. and when he held your wrists to stop you because he couldn't take it anymore, he convinced himself that it really wasn't different with you, that he really only wanted to ruin you because he was so tempted by your naivety, that you would soon be one of the women he had played with. he kissed your wrist while repeating that mantra, watching your lips part in surprise.
that night, he tried to reason with himself. you were too good a person to lose by his foolish antics. you were a keeper, you were precious and if he made a foolish mistake, he would forever regret it.
that doesn't stop him from treading on dangerous lines. and he could blame you for initiating it, blame you for kissing him first and involving yourself with him when the phone in his pocket was still buzzing with texts he never responded to, with the number of people that either wanted to fuck him up or fuck him.
and you... you would blame yourself too. because how could you hold back? how could you not give in and simply kiss the boy who sat on the riverside beside you, talking with you as if you both had nowhere else to be? how could you not hold his handsome face and kiss his plump lips when he told you how much you meant to him and how he was afraid that he would make a mistake?
if he was afraid of making a mistake, then you would in his stead. all you wanted was to be with him, to not be held back by the rumours or the warnings of your friends, to listen to your heart for once, no matter how foolish that may be. so when he looked at you with those eyes, looking like a stray cat that just needed a little love, someone who would tend to him... all the hesitation left your body as you held his face and kissed his lips, the sound of the river and the wind soothing your nerves. he didn't kiss you back. you drew away- had you really made an irreversible mistake-
"you don't know what you're getting yourself into."
that voice. that voice that you only heard when he talked about himself- his warning voice.
"why don't you show me then? what am i getting into?"
and that was the final push for san- his vision almost blackened for a second as desire crept through every nerve in his body and he crashed his lips on yours, earning a surprised groan from you. soon, you were kissing him back and moulding your body to his, letting your arms snake around his neck while his hands traced every part of your body, determined to not leave a single place untouched. the way he kissed was all-consuming- rushed, desperate, passionate and needy. when you broke contact for air, he started littering kisses all over your face, trailing from your jaw to your neck-
"san- sannie. we have all the time in the world."
that prompted him to pause- and perhaps, you shouldn't have stopped him when his lips were attached to your neck because he simply switched his speed, gently kissing and sucking into the crevice of your neck, making you arch your back. he held your body flush to his, gripping your thigh and shifting you so that you were almost in his lap, all the while continuing with his administrations. you took that chance to let your hands creep up his neck, hold him and caress his hair- those soft hair you always wanted to touch. you kissed his temple while he continued to kiss your neck, only drawing away when he was satisfied, grinning at the sight of the bruising spot.
you, however, didn't feel like grinning back, not when you were too absorbed in the overwhelming feeling of your heightened senses. not when your stomach flipped uncontrollably. not when your hands, off their own accord, traced his toned chest, sliding down to his stomach to hold his waist and look at him.
"i want you."
san felt his heart sink- what had he done-
"i want you. all of you. not just your kisses and your body, but your heart, choi san. i want your heart."
did he think that he would ruin you? yes.
but did he, for a short second, perhaps a moment of enlightenment, think that you would ruin him?
absolutely. and he should have known better than to kiss you in answer.
he should have known better than to take you home that night.
he should have known better than to accept your invitation inside your house because no one was home.
he should have known better than to accept everything you offered him in the spur of the moment.
and he should have known better because once he got a taste of you... he couldn't stop.
#suggestive-- mdni!!#sorry im a bit late i was waiting for ✨inspo✨ to hit#choi san x reader#san x reader#san fluff#san angst#san smut#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez drabbles#ateez imagines#yumi.asks
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Animation Night 173: Takashi Nakamura
Hi everyone! It's that time of the week again~
The day that puppets bite their gloves off.
Tonight on Animation Night we'll be taking a look at the works of Takashi Nakamura (中村 たかし).
Nakamura is a director who flies under the radar a bit over here, but for those who know him, he's a unique director - one who we've actually encountered a couple of times before, actually! He directed one of my favourite shorts in Robot Carnival [Animation Night 158] Chicken Man and Red Neck, in which the machinery of a city comes alive to have a violently strange Bosch-like party led by a strange red-robed robot, witnessed only by one salaryman on a moped...
...and if you remember when we looked into the three adaptations of Project Itoh's novels [Animation Night 127], he co-directed Harmony with Michael Arias, a powerfully understated film about a high tech biopower future and people who reject its utopia through a suicide pact. We also saw him in the Japan Animator Expo, with the charming Bubu & Bubulina...
But let's give a fuller story...
As an animator, Nakamura entered the industry very young, signing on as a colourist and inbetweener at Tatsunoko in 1974 - at which point he was only 16, an aspiring mangaka newly arrived in Tokyo. Working in Tatsunoko's distinctive 'industry within an industry', he was introduced to Hirokazu Ishino's 'Anidō' association, in which he was introduced to not just many important animators but also had the chance to see animation from around the world, from Norm McLaren to Japanese independent animators like Kenzō Masaoka. The two films that got him most excited were Takahata's Horus, Prince of the Sun [AN41] and Disney's Fantasia [AN15], both of which contained incredible flexes of effects animation.
(Incidentally, it makes me happy that a lot of the films Watzky mentions showing at Anidō showed up on here! Following in the footsteps of giants and all that.)
Once Nakamura got the animation bug he put aside his manga aspirations and became a key animator, going freelance a couple years later. In 1979 he saw Galaxy Express 999, and got to witness the insane 'liquid fire' effects of Kanada, and he instantly became a devotee - soon enough getting a chance to work with Kanada directly.
And by the early 80s Nakamura was definitely making a name, already working in animation direction and solo-animating entire episodes of Gold Lightan for Tatsunoko. The next couple of years he'd end up working on Nausicaa, Macross DYRL and the with Rintaro [AN53, 134] on Genma Taisen. By now he was specialising hard in effects (not unlike Anno!), and his work had become terrifyingly elaborate, look at this building collapsing into every single element or the clothes coming to the life under the power of a psychic. His work also inspired another incredibly significant animator to enter the industry - Kōji Morimoto, future cofounder of Studio 4°C - and they ended up working together on Genma Taisen.
Meanwhile on Nausicaa, Morimoto handled some of its most memorable scenes like the opening sequence where Nausicaa is pursued by the giant Ohmu. Once again you see his fascination with effects and debris, like the shot where the Ohmu explodes out of the forest, sending stalks flying in every directions. In Macross DYRL he animated the scenes of the gravity flipping sideways and a street's worth of stuff tumbling down all at once, elaborating on a scene by Itano from the TV show.
In short, if there's lots of bits of stuff flying around in a mid-80s movie, there's a good chance that Nakamura was involved somehow.
Such a focus made him a perfect fit for the 'realist school' developing in the late 80s - whyat you might loosely call the Otomo circle. You see his work on both Manie-Manie/Neo Tokyo and Robot Carnival, and naturally enough he ended up part of the team for Akira. Given what he'd already accomplished, could he somehow step it up another notch? You bet.
Going by sakugabooru comments, Nakamura's role in Akira was mainly related to two things: explosions, and animation direction. Considering how iconic the explosions in Akira are, and how challenging it was to animate Otomo's very solid and 3D designs... the success of the film depended a lot on Nakamura's insane drawing skills. Further, he was a kind of 'teacher' to the rest of the staff, such as Morimoto. But this was apparently the 'limit' for Nakamura, and after Akira he turned from creating animation for others.
And this point marks a major stylistic turn in Nakamura's work. Starting with the World Masterpiece Theatre adaptation of Peter Pan, on which he worked as character designer, he adopted a highly stripped-down, simplified style. With all the Akira goodwill, he was able to pull in many of the new stars of the 'realist' school, from Okiura to Ohira. But his work became a lot less flashy, focusing more on a Disney-like approach where it's about creating a consistent sense of life rather than individual flashy sequences.
The Hakkenden [AN 122] was one of his first chances to experiment with the new style as a director, with Episode 4 really kicking off the series' trend of completely redesigning the characters according to the sensibilities of each director. He also worked on the kinda obscure but gorgeous realist-school film Junkers Come Here [AN 118] as his own film debut, Catnapped!, progressed.
So Catnapped! This is a weird movie. Many people see a Disney influence in its style, and it definitely broke the 90s trend with a younger target audience - but Disney could never make a movie filled with as much imaginative strange shit as this one. Watzky points out how much Otomo influence there is in the direction - dense environments and elaborate multiplane shots, in contrast to simple character designs which afford a lot of movement. These designs allow great animators like Okiura [AN139] (who animated most of the finale) to really go to town. There's a great para in Watzky's article on the different directions taken by the 'realist' animators.
Catnapped is a pretty short film at less that 80 minutes, a revel of visual imagination; Nakamura's next film A Tree of Palme is just as distinctive but in a different direction. It's another take on the Pinocchio story [c.f. AN138], but a very 'dark, metaphysical' one, with its biggest inspirations apparently being French - Moebius and René Laloux [AN71, 93], with Mutsuo Koseki coming up with art direction capable of comparing to Laloux. The three year megaproject pulled in animator legends from across the board - Inoue, Ohashi, Ando, Masuo, Matsutake, Umetsu! (Count how many directed part of Robot Carnival).
The character designs of Palme look simple in stills, but once you see them in motion, they're anything but - incredibly volumetric and full of life and movement.
In the 2000s and 2010s, Nakamura ended up working with Colorido and 4C a lot (naturally enough given the connection with Morimoto!), increasingly making effective use of CG in his projects. This led up to The Portrait Studio (写真館 Shashinkan) (c.f. AniObsessive) in 2015 - an almost solo short film, with Nakamura writing, storyboarding, designing characters and doing all the key animation, which is a kind of slice through Japanese history through the lens of a photographer who just wants to figure out a way to get his client to smile.
Much like Palme, The Portrait Studio combines simple character designs (in a stylised picture-book look) with very precise, realist animation on 2s and 1s to lend them a sense of density and 'existence'. Moreover, unlike most anime, it uses the raw pencils as finished lines instead of redrawing them clean on a computer. The style might call to mind Otomo's Cannon Fodder, and in fact the two films share a colour designer. 3D is integrated with an unusual degree of skill and subtlety. It makes for a fascinating combination, a very memorable and impactful film for all its apparent simplicity.
So, that's our focus for tonight! We'll be watching Catnapped!, A Tree of Palme and The Portrait Studio, and getting to find out what the deal is with Nakamura - one of the Very Important Guys in the history of anime, influential on so many of my faves... but all too often overlooked by people who aren't like, huge animation nerds.
If that sounds fun, come join me at twitch.tv/canmom - going live in just a minute! I've been wanting to do Nakamura for ages, and today I finally found energy for a writeup. See you there~
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little taste of heaven
Pairing: Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Sinner!Reader
Inspiration: Prompts #53 (“why don’t you make me?”) from Prompt List #1 and #78 (“oh, i’m gonna fucking ruin you.”) from Prompt List #2 with added inspiration taken from a request from the lovely @odins-nsfw
Warnings: cursing, Adam is an asshole (what else is new), tiny bit of angst if you squint, general kinda rough smut (18+, MINORS DNI!!!), oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, digital manipulation, unprotected sex, Adam and reader are definitely toxic, enemies that are also lovers :)
Word Count: 2,149
Author’s Note: This took me a little longer to write but I’m very happy with how it turned out! Definitely getting more comfortable with writing smut, and writing for Adam is still proving to be very fun. Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my other Adam one shots (which you can read here and here); it seriously means so much to see the positive feedback. I still have one more request in my inbox, but I will definitely be writing for more Hazbin characters as the year goes on (especially since we don’t know when the show is coming back). But if you’d like to submit an ask, check out my About Me page, Prompt Lists, and other works in my Masterlist! Thanks and happy reading, depraved sinners!
“Hey, toots, settle a bet for us, would ya?” you heard Angel Dust call to you from across the hotel lobby. Ever since Charlie Morningstar successfully staved off an attack from Heaven’s army, you decided to join her crusade towards redeeming the seemingly irredeemable.
You were first assigned as a quasi-concierge, since you had spent most of your time in Hell bouncing from one side of the Pride Ring to the other. You hopped up from your desk and met Angel, who was slumped across the bar; Husk was silently cleaning a glass, a small smirk on his feline face.
“What’s up, guys?” you breathed, counting the seconds until your shift ended. You were grateful for the free accommodations that the hotel provided, but you didn’t expect the afterlife would involve diving into the wonderful world of customer service.
The porn star shifted his gaze to Husk, and you could tell they were both up to something. “Are ya fuckin’ the angel or what?” the bartender asked, his voice gruff. Angel almost spit out the swig of malt liquor he had just taken.
You feigned confusion, turning to the spider-like demon. “Angel Dust, I think I would know if I were fucking the biggest porn star—”
“Actor.”
“—Actor,” you corrected yourself, “on this side of Hell. You should know he’s not my type, Husk, honest.”
Angel Dusk tsked. “You know that’s not who we’re talking about, babycakes,” he said, his voice lowering, “We’re talking about the angel. Or, I guess the fallen angel.”
Oh, shit.
You shifted uncomfortably on the barstool, swirling the whiskey glass Husk had placed in front of you. “No clue what you mean by that.”
“Bullshit,” Husk said testily.
“See, I told you she’d lie,” Angel drawled, smiling smugly, “You can read it on her pretty little face.” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.
Yes, you had been fucking Adam. And yes, you had been keeping it from the rest of the hotel residents. Even after showing up—in a new demonic form, no less—to be redeemed, you knew no one, not even Charlie, trusted him fully after the last botched exorcism and direct attack on the hotel itself.
But he was drawn to you almost immediately, singling you out as someone to pursue and torment. And stupidly, you found yourself attracted to him, despite your better judgement.
“Who told you,” you deadpanned.
Angel Dust’s gaze flickered from you to Husk and back again. He sure knew how to be a fucking tease.
“Your stupid boyfriend,” Husk confirmed, not wanting to torture you any longer.
“Ya shoulda seen him bragging about it last night,” Angel added, no doubt living for the drama this would cause, “He’s got some loose lips once the booze starts flowin’. Real keeper if ya ask me.”
Stomach in knots, you attempted to put up a brave face, even with their taunting. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you said definitively, now feeling anger welling up inside you.
This was all Adam’s fault. He couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and now you were the one dealing with the humiliating fallout. “Fine, fuck buddy, whatever,” Angel corrected, watching as you stood up from the barstool in a huff, “Doesn’t sound like it’ll last very much longer, given the look on your face.”
You rolled your eyes, completely over this conversation. “Would you excuse me?” you asked rhetorically, your voice dripping with poison. Even Angel looked perturbed for a moment.
Husk glanced over to his companion as you hopped off the barstool, practically seething, “Yeah, ‘course toots,” Angel called after you, still clearly tickled by this development. He loved this kind of soap opera drama bullshit.
You were still able to hear Husk say “Oh she’s gonna fuckin’ murder him,” as you climbed the steps and stomped to Adam’s room.
Pounding on the door, anger and embarrassment grew like a vicious virus inside you. When no one answered, you pressed your ear against the door and was met with the irritating sound of a whiny electric guitar.
“Perfect,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed the ring of keys Charlie had given you when you were on shift. Even though you had technically clocked out, you weren’t above bending the rules to give Adam a piece of your mind.
You threw open the door, letting the thud as it hit the wall startle the fallen angel strumming his guitar lazily. “Jesus fu—” he started to say as he shifted on his bed, but then his eyes softened at the sight of you, “Oh, hey babe—”
“Don’t you ‘hey babe’ me, you fucking prick,” you spat, fire practically spewing from your mouth, “You’ve been telling people about us?!”
A tense pause.
“Maybe.”
Another pause.
“No?”
You could feel your eye beginning to twitch.
“Ugh, fine. Yes. But what’s the big deal?” Adam asked incredulously, finally putting his guitar down.
You paused for a moment, your anger simmering. The big deal was that you were embarrassed. That the thought of you and Adam going public made you look like a desperate sinner latching onto the only other wayward soul that would look your way.
And hell, you actually liked sneaking around, until he ruined it with his big, dumb mouth of his.
And maybe, just maybe, you were afraid that once the novelty wore off and everyone knew about you two, Adam would leave you behind and move onto the next shiny new toy to waltz into the hotel.
“Cat got your tongue, dollface?” he prodded, wanting to get a rise out of you. It was one of his new favorite pastimes.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, your anxiety being replaced by annoyance. “Jesus fucking Christ do you ever shut up?” The former angel smirked, his eyes flitting up and down your form.
“First off, don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” he said as you rolled your eyes, “It’s fucking rude.”
You wanted to punch him.
“Second, why don’t you make me?”
That was the last straw.
You lunged at him, practically pouncing on top of him to kiss him hungrily. Adam knew exactly how to push your buttons, and pathetic as it was, you actually fell for it every time.
You were straddling him, and felt him wince as you bit his lip in the heat of the angry makeout. Adam knew you were pissed, and the more you fought for dominance, the harder he felt himself get.
After all, pleasure always tasted sweeter with a little pain. And you tasted fucking delicious.
Adam groaned as you pulled away from him, your face still radiating with heat and anger. You weren’t letting him off that easily, and he knew it.
“Lie down,” you muttered, your eyes scanning his smug expression. “Now.” Wordlessly, Adam complied, lying on his back as you removed your pants and underwear swiftly.
Adam raised his head slightly just in time to watch you remove your shirt and throw it across the room in a huff. He waited patiently for you to do his own disrobing on his behalf; the lazy bastard loved when you rode him.
But he didn’t feel the desperate grasp of your hands around his cock.
No, instead, you climbed up his chest, until you were eye to eye, his gold pupils dilated. “I’m going to have to take drastic measures to shut you up, aren’t I?”
Adam felt his pulse quicken. “What’d you have in mind?”
A sinful smile spread across your face. “Something I know you hate,” you teased, cupping his face gently, doing your best to seduce him into submission, “And something I happen to know your bestie Luci is very talented at.”
Adam gripped your arm, pulling your hand away from his face. You became frightened for a second, before he started peppering the inside of your wrist with small love bites.
The games you played toed a dangerous line between love and hate, and luckily Adam had been fucking you long enough to understand the moves you were making.
“I’m not eating you out,” he said, his expression darkening, “And don’t try to bait me with that little pretty boy. It won’t work.”
You felt your pulse quicken; clearly you had struck a nerve. You just had to push him a little further to get your way.
“Is that why Lilith really left?” you said, rolling your hips against his, feeling how hard he was underneath you, “Because you couldn’t…satisfy her the way that Lucifer could?”
You knew this would send him over the edge. And the moment you looked into his burning gold eyes, you knew you had won.
A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
“Oh, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he growled, tugging at the hair at the nape of your neck. You smirked as he finally complied and laid on his back. Adam would rather give up control than have his skills in the bedroom be compared to the King of Hell.
You knew he was insecure, and if he was going to be a dick about it, the least you could do was take advantage.
Before he could change his mind, you placed each thigh on either side of his head, kneeling until your aching core met the lower half of his face. After a few seconds of resistance, you felt his lips part and flinched as his tongue slid into you.
“I can’t believe this was—ah—” you bucked your hips as he found his way to your clit, “This was the only way to get you to shut the fuck up.” You felt a hum of disapproval as his slender hands found his way to your ass.
You smiled to yourself as you felt the annoyed hum that radiated from your stubborn lover’s mouth. Finding your pace, you felt the tension in your abdomen rising as Adam continued to eat you out.
For not loving the act, you had to admit he was good at it. Feeling his tongue swirl inside you sent a shiver down you spine, and you felt a yelp leave your lips as he slapped your ass as you continued to buck on top of him.
In retaliation, he tried teasing you with small sucks and flicks, but you didn’t care; the fact that he was focusing on your gratification for a change was rewarding enough.
After a few minutes, though, the fallen angel had had enough of your domineering; if he was going to finish you off, he was going to do it his way.
Coming up for air, he placated you by circling one of his fingers around your clit. “Alright baby, you got what you wanted,” he breathed, “Now it’s my turn.”
In one fell swoop, he flipped you over onto your back, and disrobed in the blink of an eye. ‘Showoff,’ you thought to yourself, annoyed by the lack of his mouth on your pussy.
Before you could protest, two of his long fingers found his way inside you, pumping and curling to hit your sweet spot.
“After this, I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion,” Adam muttered, his tempo growing more erratic, “You’re lucky I’m even bothering to get you off after your little outburst, but you can consider it a favor this time.”
You tried to focus more on satisfying sensation you were feeling than his bitching. “It’s the least you could do after that bullshit you pulled with Husk and Angel,” you said, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your back as you tightened around him, “They’ll fucking crucify me.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, baby,” he cooed, resting his thumb on your bud as he continued to pump his fingers into you, “Now be a good girl and cum for me.”
It only took a few more moments of stimulation for you to humiliatingly come undone around him, knowing he’d make you pay for it later.
Getting off always seemed to come with a price when it came to fucking Adam; at the very least you were able to shut him up for a few glorious minutes.
You contemplated if the grilling from the other guests and constant bickering was worth it, but you didn’t have much time to change your mind. Adam pulled you off your back and onto your stomach, and you winced as he slammed his cock into you, your ass on full display as he took you from behind.
You gripped the sheets, the friction of him inside you equal parts painful and gratifying. ‘Another question for another day,’ you thought, burying your face into the mattress as he fucked you at an agonizingly delicious pace.
Right now, you had a pissy angel to placate and a couple of sinners to swear to secrecy.
Royally fucked didn’t even begin to describe the mess you had gotten yourself into.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed and want to read more! :)
#hazbin hotel#fanfiction#fanfic#hazbin#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel fanfiction#adam hazbin#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel adam#adam hazbin hotel#alex brightman#adam x reader#hazbin adam x reader#sinner adam#dickmaster#first man adam#vivziepop#vivzieverse#hellaverse#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#adam x you#my writing#creative writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing
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"You can't keep pretending it didn't happen, cause guess what? it did!" prompt w/ ethan please 😁🙏
Stop Lying
Ethan Landry x Reader |m.list
summary: going to a frat party to celebrate surviving finals end up turning into a night of things you would never forget.
warnings: drinking, drugs (weed), cursing, kissing, fluff, angst,
word count: 2.8k
did not proofread.
I never know how to end stories.
It was the end of the second term. Your first year was basically over, you just had another ten weeks, and the summer was here. So, to celebrate you and the group thought it would be a good idea to go to one of the frat parties. Everyone was down to go except you and Ethan, who have been known as the nerds in the group.
You love school but you also love to party. You tell yourself that you only party during the summer, once school starts you have to "lock in" as Chad liked to call it. But after these last finals you thought that one party won't hurt.
It was already about eight pm when Chad and Ethan came walking into Tara's apartment. Sam was out with Danny, and Mindy and Anika were just going to pre-game with you guys and stay home. So, in the end it was only you Tara, Chad, and Ethan.
Ethan wasn't much of a drinker, so he didn't drink much before the party. You and Tara took about two shots. Chad had also decided to wait till the party just in case.
As the boys were waiting in the living room for you two Tara giggled to herself as she pulled out her makeup. "You know Ethan likes you right?" she set her bag on the desk opened it and reached for her eyeliner. You told her earlier that day that she could do whatever she'd like for your makeup.
"No, he doesn't, trust me he just sees me as a friend." you lightly shook your head as she reached for your chin to hold your face while she put on the eyeliner.
After about hour you guys were finally ready, the boys had also changed. Ethan was just in some slasher t-shirt and jeans while Chad was in a football hoodie.
Chad was the first to speak when he saw you both. "Whoa my god you two look stunning" he smiled at you while he leaned down to kiss Tara on the cheek. Ethan stood there looking at you like a fool. You didn't see how his mouth hung slightly open, and you definitely couldn't see how his hands were sweating.
"Yeah you- you guys look great." as he stumbled over his words Tara eyed him and watched how his eyes never left you.
"Well let's get going" Chad grabbed Tara's hand and made their way to the door, as you and Ethan followed them.
-
As you entered the house, a wave of alcohol and weed flooded your nose. You could already feel your hangover before you even drank. Tara grabbed your hand, dragging you to the kitchen. The boys followed close behind, you could hear their voices lightly, hearing both your name and Tara's.
Chad broke away from the three of you as he went to catch up with his frat friends. Tara also ended up leaving both you and Ethan. You stood in the corner with the shy boy, your drink, half empty. Looking over, you saw his was still full. "Come one, Ethan, let loose. You finished your finals. " You leaned into him so he could hear you, your breath tickling his ear. The light smell of gum and alcohol lingered on your breath.
"I just don't think I like drinking around these many people." he looked around and saw people dancing, drinking, smoking, all of the things you could imagine. You noticed the nervous look on his face, how he picked at the ring that hugged his middle finger.
You decided to lace your fingers with his empty hand, leaning in again. You said, "Well, we can go outside, get fresh air, and be alone?" Your voice was reassuring to him. He could feel his heartbeat traveling a million miles faster than before. Not trusting his voice, he just nodded.
As he followed close behind you, he could hear the party getting smaller. Realizing he was in the backyard with you, very few were out here. Just a few people here and there, mainly smoking and or making out.
As you sat down in the grass, you let go of Ethan's hand. Part of him wished for it back. It was comforting, as he sat down next to you he saw you were watching him. "What?" He felt his cheeks warm up. He felt his stomach flutter as you smiled at him.
"Nothing, just admiring you." You smiled and then looked away once you realized what you said. Trying to cover yourself, you quickly asked him a question, "So how do you think you did on the finals?"
His eyes met yours, his lips turned up as he saw the soft smirk on your face. "I think I did pretty good, I'm not doubting myself, but I'm also not puffing my chest out." You light laughed at his comment.
"What about you? How did you do?" He took a sip of his drink forgetting its alcohol, a sour look took his face as he spit it back in the cup.
You couldn't help but laugh as he tried to brush the taste off tongue. "It was fine," breaking every few words with your laugh. "I um- I don't think I passed them all, but I tried, so that's all that matters" taking the last sip of your drink.
The sour and burning sensation ran down your throat. "I'm sure you did great. You always do. " he looked down at you with a soft smile. You could never get over that smile. And how brown his eyes were, but in the night light, they looked black, and even then, you could still feel the warmth of them.
Setting your cup on the ground caused goosebumps to trail your body, making you shiver. "Are you cold?" Ethan watched you as you ran your arms up and down your legs.
"Ha no," he could see through you. Without thinking about he moved closer, wrapping his arm around your body.
Your body went stiff just for a moment, but once you felt him against you, it was like you melted. It felt so perfect.
As you sat there, you could feel him staring at you. Taking your head off his shoulder, you looked up, "can I help you? Your voice was soft and airy, not wanting to sound aggressive.
"Nothing, I just like looking." he looked between both your eyes, and then your lips.
"There's nothing much to look at," your tone changed duller than before, as if you were doubting him.
"That's not true," his other hand put his drink down then went to your cheek. He pushed a piece of hair out of the way, then rested him thumb on your cheek.
Part of you was living every moment of this, and the other was begging to leave. You watched his eyes as they looked at your again, then your lips. As you looked in his eyes, you saw what he wanted, the question in his eyes begging.
You couldn't deny it. You were begging as well, your eyes saying the same thing back to him, and without realizing it, your head shook up and down.
All he needed was that nod. Leaning in, you leaned in as well, your lips meeting. He was shy, not moving his lips of a moment. And it's like it clicked. Slowly, they moved, and as yours moved with his, he grew confident.
His hand cupping your face as yours goes to his hair. Those brown curly you loved so much, it's everything you ever wanted. The kiss started to get heated as you felt both yours and his breath hitch, your fingers softly pulling his curls, causing a groan to escape from his mouth.
The burning sensation in your lungs, begging for air. You didn't want to pull away, but you had to. Slowly, you dropped your hand, Ethan understood what you were doing so slowly his slowed his lips, still breaking the kiss but peppering your lips.
And as he opened his eyes, a voice rang through the backyard. "Ethan! Oh, shit there you're. " Without thinking, he jumped away from you, standing up as he heard his name.
Chad stood by the back door, drunk out of his mind. Tara behind him as he tried to get his roommates attention.
"A little help here?!" Tara's voice sounded raspy and distressed. Before you could process anything that just happened, you ran to help her.
"I think it's time to go." Tara herself was stumbling. Ethan took Chad as you helped Tara. You made your way to the car slowly but surely. Getting the couple into the car and getting them comfortable a job.
Chad kept wanting to run away, Tara just sat there, making fun of Chad. As Ethan decided he should drive, you sat in the back with the others to make sure they tried anything stupid.
Which left you unavailable to talk to Ethan about what had happened. Your thoughts swimming with questions wondering why he was so quick to leave, was he embarrassed? Did he not want to be seen with me?
And before you knew it, the night got away from you both. Taking care of Tara and Chad left you both exhausted, and then after you avoided him.
For a week, you didn't go over. You didn't see the group or anything. Ethan was confused because he thought the kiss was good, but as another week went by, he became angry. He didn't understand why, maybe it was at himself or you, but he hated that he could be mad at you.
You now just felt mad, not at yourself but at Ethan. Why make such a move then go and leave you like that? It caused you so much pain, everyone could see that. Everyone knew something was up, with both you and Ethan. You disappeared, and now all of a sudden, he's letting Chad pick the horror movies.
Something happened at that party, and they were both determined to figure it out. Tara went to your apartment to ask you questions, and without saying anything you told her everything, as did Ethan to Chad.
They both knew they needed to get you guys in the same room to talk it over, but how?
They had decided to lie to you and Ethan, Tara had told you Ethan was busy studying so he wouldn't be at the hangout tonight. And Chad had told Ethan that you were picking up an extra shift which made him sad rather than relieved.
As everyone started to show up, Ethan sat on the couch minding his business when he heard the door open. "Ahh, there she is!" Mindy's voice rang through the apartment, she was the first one to see you walk in.
As you said you said hello to everyone you noticed brown curly hair, Ethan had gotten up when he realized you were here. His heartbeat racing like it did that night.
Your face dropped its expression when your eyes locked with his, your heart screaming at him, the nervous sweat taking over your body. Your eyes glanced at Tara; she held a soft 'sorry' smile.
"Hey, Y/n" his voice was soft and light. Everyone had already moved on seeing the tension between you and him.
"Hey, Ethan" You didn't want to sound too mean, but you couldn't help the harsh tone in your voice.
"I was wondering if we could talk for a moment?" his hand came to rest under your arm. His eyes had a begging light to them.
"You know uh, Ethan maybe not right now. There's nothing to really talk about" As you spoke you could feel the tension grow thicker, your body wince as you saw the look in his eyes.
Ethan felt his heart shatter as you spoke, how your voice was cold.
"What do you mean? I haven't seen you in two weeks, since the party and I just wanted-" he was rushing through his words, scared as to what you were going to say.
"Ethan, look there's nothing to talk about. At least not right now, I just want to hang out with our friends" You dropped your arm from his hand, turning your body you made your way to the living room with the others.
Ethan stood there in anger; he didn't understand why you were acting like this. All he wanted was to tell you how he felt and how that night at the party changed him. All he wanted was to be with you, to have you in his arms again.
He watched you sit right next to Mindy and Anika which was the last straw. He walked over to you, hovering over you as you talked to Mindy, leaning down he grabbed your hand pulling you up.
"Ethan what the fuck" Everyone noticed his actions; Anika was about to stop him when she felt Mindy's hand on her leg.
"Shut up." his voice was harsh and angry. As he pulled you up to your feet, he then dragged you to the closest room.
The others just sat there watching you two run into the room. the door slammed, making an echo through the apartment. Giving each other all a look, they then hit play on the movie and turned up the volume.
"Jesus Ethan, what the fuck is your problem?" you ripped your hand from his grasp.
"What's my problem? mine? What's yours? we kissed at that party, and now you can't even stand to be around me. I don't understand. " His voice was rising, and all the emotions he was feeling were coming out.
"Look, Ethan, we were drinking -" your hand dragged over your face as you tried to come up with different excuses.
"That's bullshit! Y/n, you weren't even drunk! I wasn't even drunk!" He was throwing his hands around as he yelled.
"Ethan it's- I don't know what you want me to say!"
"I want to stop pretending like it didn't happen! Because guess what it did! And I don't know if it meant anything to you, but it meant everything to me! Y/n I love you, and I have for a while, and seeing you avoid me like this hurts me, " he stood next to you as close as he could. His voice trembled as he realized he confessed to you.
"Then why did you stand up like that? Why did you leave me so quickly when Chad came outside? If anything, Ethan, you hurt me! And fuck, it was everything to me but when you got up and rushed away I was worried it was all in my head!" Your voice was loud at the beginning, but then soften once you processed that Ethan had said he loved you.
He could help but bite his lip as he heard your words. His heart hurt as he realized he hurt you. Walking close to you, he looked between your eyes, taking a deep breath. As softly as possible, he spoke, "I didn't mean to hurt you. That's the last thing I want. And what I want is for you to talk to me because Jesus y/n you have me wrapped around your finger"
You smiled at his words, creating a little pain in your cheeks as they hurt from the smile, but it was all worth it.
You couldn't express what was going through your mind, but there was one thing that you knew you coukd do, and that was to kiss him.
Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him down to you, and your lips met his. All those emotions from the other night ran through your body again. The feeling of his dry yet soft lips drove you insane, Ethan didn't waste a second. His hand flew to your cheek, cupping your face. Slow, moving down to hold your throat, his other hand went to you wasit to pull your body flush against his.
Your other hand that wasn't tangled into his shirt was face slowly running to his hair. Your lungs burnt in the best way.
Breaking away, you looked at him, your eyes pleading a little. "I'm sorry. For ignoring you and not telling you how I felt, " your eyes trailed down to the floor, not wanting to face him fully.
His hand ducked under your chin, pulling your face up. "I don't want you to be sorry, ever." With that, he leaned down again, kissing you softly.
#jack champion#ethan landry#scream vi#jack champion x reader#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry x reader#spider avatar#jack champion imagine#ethan landry smut#ghost face x reader#avatar spider#spiderman ethan landry#jack champion is all i think about#jack champion fluff#jack champion fanfic#avatar way of water#avatar the way of water
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can we cam up? eren yeager x male reader
w.c: 4.3k
genitalia terms: dick, cock, hole, fuckhole, cunt (1 time), pussy (1 time)
WARNING: spit, blowjob, rimming, anal (obvi), creampie, dirty talk, humiliation, filming, degradation, humiliation, nerd!eren, jock!reader, intoxication, may read kinda dubious but it’s 100% consensual, light d/s dynamic, alcohol, weed mention, dumbification, eren compares you to a hentai character one (1) time bc he’s deranged
a/n: i was kicking my feet twirling my locs screaming into my pillow writing this and it shows. also eren has a BIIIIG phat crush on you but i didn’t wanna get too into it… you definitely remember him, probably even sexted him w/o even knowing it was him
Let’s get one thing straight: You're not an arrogant man. Not at all— in fact, you’d consider yourself to be quite humble. This night may be about you and your winning score, but you’re humble about it. Considerate, even. So you feel no guilt when you accidentally spill alcohol on someone’s shirt, explaining that if they can somehow find you on instagram and send a DM, you’ll pay for the laundry and potential damages. The stranger peers at you with a funny glint in his green eyes as his hands pull the wet fabric apart from his skin, his glasses falling down the arched bridge of his nose.
You shrug and wave to your teammates, your football jersey loose on your form as you make way through the frat house’s large interior. Music blares in your ears for the millionth time tonight, the bass rattling your skeletal system with each increasingly tipsy step you take. Grinding, flushed bodies invade your vision, all around you as you shimmy through the sea of bodies to pour yourself another generous shot. Cool, blue rays of strobe lights dance and flicker across your eyelids. Warm, pink rays that caress your cheek like the confines of your safety helmet, the vinyl of your mouth guards. It overwhelmed you at first, so bright and unapologetic as your eyes adjusted and focused.
Somewhere beneath the tranquil hum of alcohol flowing through your veins you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket, rippling through your skin and sobering you up just a little.
Your girlfriend.
She’d been blowing up your phone all night, something along the lines of forgetting her gift for your anniversary— what was a few weeks, anyway? — and how ungrateful you were for yours. She was a good lay, a quick way to resort to getting your dick wet on particularly lonely nights; when you couldn’t stand the sound of silence dancing around your head. But that was all.
You shake the thought of her squawking voice the second you find Connie, surrounded by sorority girls with glossed lips and pink-tinted eyes. Finding solstice in his company, they’re huddled relatively close, knit together in some sort of baked clique. He’s perched over a bong, lighter in hand as he inhales the fumes with muffled haste. Pothead.
Your hand finds the crown of his head, palm nestled in the bristles of his buzz cut. Noone is allowed to touch Connie’s hair, at least not when he’s coherent enough to stop them. It usually ends in flying fists and bruised cheekbones, but all the man sends your way is a hazy glare. Someone punching the university’s all star just isn’t a good look. Especially when he’s pretty and popular with the public.
“Do that again and I’ll throw this bong at your head.” It’s an empty threat, clear of malice and slurred on Connie’s bitten lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” You steal the smoke exuding from his mouth, swishing the fog in your mouth a few times before blowing it back into his face. “Never again. Scouts honor.”
You shoot back up, mind reeling and posture straightening as a particularly pretty cheerleader hands you a bottle of something you can’t quite make out. It’s brown and rich though, smacking against the glass as you take a swig and chase it down with Connie’s leftover beer of all things.
One thing leads to another and suddenly you’re trapped between sobriety and full on plastered drunk. You remember chugging something sickeningly sweet, despite it leaving a harsh burn in the back of your throat as you took in a deep breath of victory. There were many eyes on you, loud cheers reverberating off the walls as you’re hoisted into the air for your skillful performance and high-fived by your frat brothers. But there are those green eyes again, staring straight through you with a look you can’t quite place.
Not that you can place much. You’re shitfaced.
He smells good, you later discover. There’s a strum of wind as he pushes forward and straight by you, weaving through the crowd like he’s invisible. The swaying of bodies— the sight is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, and it makes his head swim while liquor glides across his tongue, clumsy and inexperienced. He must not get invited to parties often. Or maybe he does, and you’ve just never noticed him.
He’s quite nerdy, some sort of graphic design on his stained shirt that resembles that of a video game or cartoon logo, and a poor excuse of a beard litters his chiseled jaw. And oddly handsome, pale face flushed from the alcohol, pink and pooling at the apples of his cheeks as he stares at you expectantly. But you’re not into men, and all the shots in the world couldn’t get you to even think of advancing with one. He quirks his thick brow in passing, settling back into his seat with a depleting mumble you can’t make out under the loud music.
But the alcohol paired with the sultry music-choice is doing things to you, you can’t help but stare longer than you should when he swallows down his adams apple, throat bobbing as he downs a fruity drink. His tongue darts over his lips, quick and steady as he nods along to the bass. You’re thinking with your dick, pushing past the batting lashes of cheerleaders and curvy bodies of sorority girls until you’re uncomfortably close to the guy who won’t stop looking at you.
“Do you- do you have a staring problem?” You ask, a slight slur to your voice as your face leans in close enough to count the nerd’s lashes individually.
Just to reiterate, you’re not arrogant. In the slightest.
He jumps back in response to the evasive question, strands of hair falling over his glasses as his emerald eyes roam your face. The lines are blurring now, his nerdy, almost irritating face looks kissable and inviting— his parted lips look warm and skilled. You can smell the pineapple on his tongue, sweet and citrusy.
“You heard me,” You hiccup straight into his face, watching his gorgeous features distort into something not even remotely akin to disgust, which makes confusion rack your brain. “Do you talk, or what?”
Your tongue is sharp, much to Eren’s chagrin. You’re too pretty to talk to people like that, especially him. He may look the way he does, but that doesn’t mean you can talk to him like that. It’s not like he can’t recognize a brat when he sees one. Usually, you’re a bubbly team player— everyone likes you, even if they say they don’t. Still, he shakes his head, humoring your drunken irritation. He understands, at least a bit, as he has a natural temper of his own.
Truthfully, Eren has been keeping his eyes on you for the past millennia. It started when he accidentally walked in on your practice, a sunny day that simply got brighter when he saw your face, cheerful and bright as you joked along with your teammates— Jean, Reiner, Levi? Was it? It didn’t matter, his focus was on you.
You and your sinfully tight compression shorts. You and your hands that curl into fists as you grasp at his sheets like a lifeline, as if holding them tight will somehow keep him inside of you, right where he belongs.
You and your stupid football that’d smacked him right in the face at full speed. But it was in his favor, you came running over apologetically as he rubbed away the blooming bruise. Your voice was sweet then, a melodic chirp that he couldn’t stop thinking about since then. He wants to hear it break.
It seems you too always meet at the expense of his dignity. But not tonight.
“Your phone is buzzing,” Eren grunts, sliding his glasses back up his nose and turning his head away. His glasses are fogged up, but it might just be saving his pride. He’d rather not get hard in front of the person he’s been fantasizing about for the past few months, not when you clearly had no recollection of him. He doesn’t blame you. “My bad. I’m not, yknow, stalking you or anything.”
“Oh, because staring for hours and stalking are very different things,” You’re staring at his lips now, ignoring the vibration in your hand. The second your phone screen lights up you slam it face-down into your front pocket. There isn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice, like his response is calculated and open-ended. “What if I like that?”
Your eyebrows wiggle, even with the mind splitting sensation of your brain beating against your skull. Almost as hard as your heart hammering in your chest. Eren’s scoff is barely audible over the music, but the comment has his heart racing.
You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, fists bunched up in the dark fabric as your lips press against his. It’s feverish and sloppy, your teeth occasionally grazing his own. His mouth is hot and wet, fruity essence on his tongue as it slips past your lips and into your mouth. You’ve never had a kiss feel this good. He nips at your bottom lip, pearly teeth digging into the skin until he feels you make an embarrassingly high pitched noise in your throat.
There’s a twinkle in his teal eyes as his posture straightens, slowly leaning back to catch a breath of fresh air (as fresh as it can get, anyway). You watch him readjust his position, lifting his hips instead of his actual body, practically rutting into the thickening air as he shifts. His bubblegum lips curl into a lazy smile as his fingertips circle the rim of the red solo-cup he’s been drinking from. “What if I like you?”
Your breath catches in your throat.
“Your phone just doesn’t shut up, does it?” There’s clear agitation in his voice, his arched eyebrows furrowed as your feet carry you somewhere much more secluded. Eren trails behind you, his eyes glued on the mound of your ass as you walk. He has to help you occasionally, without even knowing the layout of the place, just so you don’t fall over. The light shine of your phone screen emits across your hip, and he can see the contact of whoever it is that’s so deeply desperate for your attention.
Too bad it’s all on him.
“I’m a pop— popular man.” You finally respond, shutting the door behind you to what Eren assumes is your bedroom in the frat house. It’s between two other bedrooms and across from three more, with a sizable closet that holds more trophies than clothing.
“Can see why, pretty mouth like that,” The words slip before he can think, but it’s worth it to see the way you oh, so conveniently hiccup in response. The implication of you being some type of campus whore makes your throat feel tight, and you can’t help but twitch in your tight pants. “Talks a lot of shit, though.”
“You talk too much.” Correction: he doesn’t talk enough. But you shut him up with a kiss anyway, hungry and frantic because whatever this is, whatever you feel when you look at him, you don’t want it to end. His hands travel under your shirt, cold from his previous icy drinks, and you squirm under his palms. He spreads goosebumps across your skin, and when his fingers brush the bud of your nipples you can’t help but jolt where you stand.
A malicious grin snakes across Eren’s face, all teeth and predatory as he runs his tongue over his sharp canine teeth. “Been thinking about fucking you for weeks. The whole time we were talking, all I could think about was shoving you down on my dick.”
Oh. Your cock aches at that, which is almost already too much for you, you’ve never done this before. Not with a man, not with someone who looks at you like they’re going to devour you whole. You swallow hard, alcohol dispelling from your body the more blood rushes south, and suddenly you’re on your knees, unbuttoning Eren’s jeans with trembling hands.
The door locks behind you, a small click that only the two of you can hear. You look back up at the nerd, who’s watching you intently with a smirk.
He’s a complete juxtaposition to his appearance— if you were a bad man you’d call him a loser, but he exudes dominance and power. You want to wiggle under his gaze, shifting your weight between knees. Eren’s large hands cradle your face, oddly tender and affectionate as he rubs your cheekbones, slowly sliding them to the sides of your head. He lifts your gaze, forcing eye contact.
His glasses hang low on his nose, clouded from his breath as he lets out a satisfied sigh. You want to pull on his hair, flyaways barely reaching the base of his neck as the rest remains in a ponytail.
“This okay?” His tone is beyond sincere.
“Yeah,” You breathe, momentarily losing yourself in the forest of his irises. Blinking rapidly, Eren removes his hands from your head to free himself from his jeans, his long cock decorated in a small vein that disappears below his head. It’s pretty, arched against his stomach and dripping onto his shirt. The leaking precum makes you wonder how long he’s been hard. “Yeah. This is—this is more than okay.”
“Open,” It’s more of a command than anything, Eren’s very hands on, his fingers slipping into your mouth to pull at the corners of your mouth. Your tongue covers your teeth, your mouth watering as his salty fingertips graze your tongue. His other hand is busy working at the head of his cock, twisting smooth circles over the slit until it crashes down against your tongue. Again, and again, and again. “Good boy.”
You find yourself drooling on your jersey, sucking in a deep breath through your nose as his tip rests on your tongue. He goes slow at first, letting you suck on the tip while his fist roams his shaft. You’re a big boy, he knows you can handle much more than just the head— even if he is thick. Your eyes water immediately, gagging instinctually as he shoves his dick deeper into your mouth. “Say thank you.”
Before you can pull away with an answer, both hands return to the back of your head, holding you in place. He encourages you to breathe through your nose, cooing at your inexperienced efforts to catch the drool escaping your mouth, and even goes as far as to wipe one of your tears, “Gonna thank me? F’letting you be such a good, warm n’ wet hole for me?”
You feel yourself nodding, blinking hazily as he rocks in and out of your mouth. There’s a sound you don’t recognize coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, and it has you whimpering on the mouthful of cock. You don’t mean to make such a pitiful noise, but it feels so good, letting yourself go a little brainless over a cute boy.
You slurp loudly— not on purpose, but it earns a throaty chuckle from the man above you. He pulls out to let you breathe, his cock slowly sliding up your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit. The tears in your eyes spill unabashedly, your face nearly crashing against his dick.
“Thank you.”
“Hm? For what?”
You want to groan, to bang your fists against the wall because he’s being so mean. He knows what you mean, you know what you mean. Regardless, still focused on his cock just inches away from your face, you moan against nothing. It’s a light noise, breathy and quiet but effective enough to make his cock jump. “Please, please— I mean- fuck, thank you for letting me be…yours.”
Eren tuts, feigning annoyance as he grips your chin between his fingers, digging into the soft skin so you’re actually focused on his face. You smile into his palm, eyelashes batting against your cheek and he just can’t help but spit onto your cheek.
“What, d’you just go dumb the second you see some dick?”
You’re barely listening, instead grinding against the fabric of your jeans because his touch treatment has you feeling some kind of way. “Does your girlfriend know her boyfriend’s a cockslut too? Does she know other boys spend their nights getting your holes wet, fuckin’ you in the same bed?”
It’s much easier to hear the vibrations in your pocket now that you’re alone, the only barrier between you being the muffled music on the other side of the door. Eren’s hand leaves your jaw, and you have no complaints when he helps you to remove your jeans.
The jersey can stay on, though. He wants to fuck you in it.
He pushes you into your bed, watching you bounce in the mattress in nothing but your jersey, and helps himself into solely his birthday suit. You’re just as exposed, seemingly moreso, as he pulls your bottom half into his lap. It’s an odd position, not anything you’re used to, maybe your exes and past hookups— but never you.
Eren hunches over, his breath tantalizingly close to your hole. First, he licks a fat stripe across the surface, holding your thighs open when they threaten to instinctively close. You can’t prop yourself up on your elbows at this angle, your feet dangling over his shoulders while he holds you up. The nerd is stronger than he looks.
His tongue is hot and wet, and you feel yourself clenching when a glob of spit lands on your hole. He massages it in with his ring and middle finger, and your body finds itself squirming against his touch. You expect fingers, one at first, maybe, then another. But instead he uses his tongue, lets it dip inside and lap at your insides. Eren looks hungry, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he spreads you open and holds you there with an iron grip. A punched-out “Eren!” leaves your lips the second his tongue is lapping you up, leaving tingles up your spine and smog in your brain.
He kneads his fingers into the fat of your thighs, nipping occasionally where your skin folds into your ass, just to get another choked whine out of you. And, oh, you whine. The intrusion isn’t unwelcome, in fact, the feeling of Eren’s face slick with his spit as he tries to get his tongue as deep as he can into you makes your toes curl. You fist your bedsheets, finding comfort in the pillows you’re pressed into, and go as far as to hold yourself open for the man while he goes to grab something.
“Oh, baby. You shouldn’t have,” You shiver at the sound of his dark chuckle, and squeal when his ring finger finds a spot next to his tongue. “Look at that. Hole’s leaking. You just sit here and look pretty while I fuck it on my tongue, hm? Think you can do that?”
“Mhmmm, mhm, yeah! I can— I can do that, ‘Ren.” You sound like a bitch, with your nose buried in your pillow as you moan with every brush to that special spot inside of you. Your cock jumps against your stomach, leaking into your belly button and down your chest. Your jersey is ruined, but so are you, especially when Eren rubs your cock once, twice—
Holy shit. You’re cumming.
“That’s it, come on, give it to me.” Your jersey catches it all, right over your reserved number and embroidered nameplate. Your brain is too fried for you to care, tears streaming down your face as your hole flutters on his tongue and fingers. Sensitive now, moreso than you were before, you whimper and shimmy in Eren’s lap, simultaneously moving toward and away from his touch. He keeps you where you are though, staring at your blissed out face through clouded glasses and licking his lips like he’s just finished eating the best meal he’s ever had. And as if that’s not enough to have you cumming again already, he places an open-mouthed kiss to your puffy hole just for good measure.
“You felt so soft on my tongue, fuck, I almost busted right on you,” His cheeks are pink, and the rosy shade blooms down his neck and disappears into his chest. He pulls you forward by your wrist, sucking on your tongue and licking over your lips so you can taste yourself. He’s gonna be the death of you.“Bet this hole’s gonna be even softer. Nice and warm while you take my cock. Gonna let me cum inside? Pump that soft cunt full until it’s all creamy and used?”
He’s so filthy, so unashamed. The nickname doesn’t go unheard, and despite the slutty moan that you let out in response, part of you wants to pinch him just for that. Damn Eren and his shameless mouth! But you nod anyway, an everlasting stream of ‘yesyesyes’ floating in the air as he lines himself up to finally give you what you’ve been gagging for so prettily.
Eren just can’t help himself. Not when you’re folded up and presenting yourself to him like this. Not when your eyes are wide and your lips are parted and you’re letting out such pretty sounds. Sounds that belong to him. Plus it’s not all on him, you’re the one with an unlocked phone. You’re the one with space in your camera roll.
He’s sure the camera is shaky, maybe even a little blurry, but he makes sure to get your face in it, fucked-out and crosseyed as he pounds his dick into you, keeps you steady with his hand on your jaw. A string of precum connects you together, pooling at your ass and Eren’s thighs as his hips crash down, yours convulsing upward to meet him halfway. It’s a bit half-assed on your part, but who’s gonna blame the guy getting fucked stupid?
“‘Ren, you’re,” You sob in disbelief, eyes rolling along with your hips. “You’re— ohh, you’re fuckin’ me.”
He smiles down at you, feral and heated as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against the curve of your ass. He never seems to stop, always chasing that feeling of you clamping down on him even when you’re almost too sensitive to take it. “That’s right, I’m fuckin’ you. Just how you like it, hm? Right in your fuckhole. S’what it’s there for, right?”
“That’s—“ Absurd? Vulgar? Objectification? It’s hot. It’s hot and you know it, Eren knows it, and your dick sure as hell knows it too because you can feel your next orgasm coming. “Yeah. N’my fuckhole.”
He makes a pleased sound in response, groans and pants joining your moans when he speeds up, his slow and deep strokes becoming fast and hollow, pounding that sensitive spot deep inside you over and over and over. “Should train you to take this dick.”
“Hold on,” Despite looking straight at him you can’t understand what he’s saying, not until his glasses are placed over your eyes and you’re blinking away the prescription blur. You struggle to collect yourself, wailing as you reach for his free hand that begins to nestle between your jawline and your neck. He squeezes affectionately, lets you cry and arch on his cock while he breathlessly sighs, “You look straight outta my favorite hentai.”
And, technically, you’re making a sextape now. A tape that showcases closeups of his cock disappearing deep inside you, pummeling your puffy hole until it carves the shape of his dick into you. Until only Eren can fit, big and thick and unbelievably deep. A tape that has you, a popular and well-known straight jock, crying on the dick of a guy you just met.
“Eren, m’gonna… ‘Ren—” You may as well scream, your body tensing as you spray across your chest — when did your jersey get bunched up enough to expose you like that? — sticky cum shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body ablaze. He doesn’t let up, castelon eyes narrowed as he fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, milking himself for all he’s worth. “Inside, wanna be full, I deserve it, please, Rennie.”
He bounces you a few times, watching you fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you. It’s the nickname that gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. It’s clear you feel proud of yourself for making him tremble inside you, and Eren takes the opportunity to scrapbook the memory.
“C’mere,” He’s not asking, simply pulling you closer to the camera so it can focus on your cum-stained face. “Smile for me, baby. Tell your ‘girlfriend’ how much you like it in your pussy too.”
#₊˚⊹♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒#anime x male reader#aot x y/n#aot x reader#aot x you#aot x male reader#eren x male reader#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager x y/n#eren jeager x reader#eren jeager x male reader#eren jeager smut#eren yeager smut#eren drabble#eren smut#x male reader#x male reader smut#eren x you#eren jeager imagines#eren jeager headcanons#eren x reader#shingeki no kyoujin eren
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xdinary heroes taking dirty pictures
smut | xdh x gn!reader | mdni
cw: nudity, mentions of sexting, phone sex, orgasm
a/n: just some loose interpretations on what exchanging dirty pics with xdh may look like
♡ gunil
some of them may look like photoshoots so be prepared
many pics of him relaxing in bed, most times naked under the sheets
lots of selfies while laying down with one arm behind his head flexing his biceps
loves lowering the sheets down his torso a little too much.. revealing his abs but also giving you a glimpse of something else
you’re texting and when you ask what movie he’s watching he sends you a picture of the tv
but the only thing you can see is his naked body barely covered from the bed sheets
abs pics!!
abs pics from the gym when he’s sweating
dick pics while he’s sitting cause he gets to show off his fit thighs - they deserve attention too
loves if you respond with a dirty pic before he’s asked for it
he finds the not too revealing photos more arousing - gunil’s the type to like it when you leave some things to the imagination, making him crave you even more
often responds to your photos in audio format ~
♡ jungsu
doesn’t do nudes often but it’s fun when he does
he’s cheeky - he calls you aiming for a long dirty talk knowing damn well you’ll both end up touching yourselves
during that he sends you several teasing pics
shots of his bulge, abs, a clip of his hand slowly stroking his erection through his clothes
just so he can hear you begging to see his cock on facetime
he finds your reactions far more exciting than the actual taking of the photos; it works like a confidence boost
videos > pictures
many pics of his hand over his boner while he’s still wearing underwear
sometimes he would grip it through his jeans too ~
when he feels inspired and horny he makes himself cum in his pants so he can show you the mess he made for you
♡ jiseok/gaon
tons and tons of tummy pics!!!
but before we begin lets note the fact he asks for nudes first before thinking of sending his own
he’d be like “take a pic”, and when you make him send one first he’d be like fair enough
and he ends up having a little too much fun
now that we have that out of the way …
loves showing you his abs painted with cum
“thinking of you” the message says
he photographs your scratches on his abs after you leave his place
the hickeys you left him too
lots of pics with different pulled up shirts or him lifting his hoodie with his teeth
sometimes he unbuttons his pants too just to tease you even more
doesn’t mind lifting his tee up even if the members are around he actually enjoys their teasing
regularly sends you bathroom pics from random hotels where he wears a towel around his waist just to see if you’re gonna ask him to take it off
pics of his leaky tip poking through the waistband of his sweats >>
♡ seungmin/o.de
so much mirror pics duh
he definitely does the mirror shots where he’s got his t-shirt lift up with one hand - that’s the first one he sends you
the pics gradually get more and more revealing and kinky
and by that i mean naked full body pics cause that’s seungmin we’re talking about
him wearing only his accessories >>>
sometimes he’s sitting on a chair facing the mirror
or down on his knees with his erection on full display for you
another one of the group that loves bathroom shots, so he’ll use the foggy mirror to make even more erotic and aesthetically pleasing shots for your collection
cause we all know you end up creating a folder just for the pictures he constantly sends you
selcas while he’s hugging the pillow in a way that flexes his biceps
♡ hyeongjun/junhan
i can see him go really bold with sending you nudes cause you cannot see if he’s flustered or not
he loves showing off his black nails and new fancy accessories by holding his erection ~
lots of after shower pics!!!
sometimes when you text him how’s he doing he showers first and then replies just so he can send a pic with his chest and hair all wet
he doesn’t feel guilty about making you wait
nor will he ever tell you that he’s done this multiple times
shots of the imprint of his boner showing through his sweats >>>
morning nudes!!
nothing proves more how much he misses you than a pic of the mess he made in his bed after his morning jerk off session
he shows you the sticky strings of cum by spreading his fingers in front of the camera
♡ jooyeon
straight up pic of his dick
cause i don’t see him being very creative with this tbh
he’s not very into taking nudes, he much rather receive them
he takes one only if you ask for it
if he takes seductive pics they’re lazy, casual, not too revealing and just for the funsies
most likely to send you a funny face when you ask for a nude
most of the fun he gets from sexting/phone sex comes from the fact you can’t see each other - it builds a type of tension that nudes do not so i don’t see him doing this often
jiggles his cock in front of the camera almost every time
#xdinary heroes smut#xdinary heroes hard thoughts#xdinary heroes hard hours#xdh smut#gunil hard thoughts#jungsu hard thoughts#jiseok hard thoughts#gaon hard thoughts#seungmin hard thoughts#o.de hard thoughts#junhan hard thoughts#hyeongjun hard thoughts#gunil smut#jungsu smut#kwak jiseok smut#gaon smut#oh seungmin smut#o.de smut#xdinary heroes x reader
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Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader
AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!
I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.
⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p
Reader is referred to with afab terms.
Pt2-
================================
• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.
• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.
•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?
“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…
“Welcome to Hell!!!”
“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.
“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.
“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…
“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”
“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”
“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…
“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.
“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.
“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“
SPLAT-
“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.
“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….
• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.
• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?
• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him
Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~
• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.
I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.
"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."
"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.
"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.
"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.
"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.
• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"
• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.
• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.
• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!
• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.
• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.
• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.
• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.
• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.
——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-
• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.
*knock knock knock*
*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*
"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"
"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.
"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.
"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.
"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.
"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.
Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.
"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-
"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.
-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-
I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-
*CRASH *
“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?
“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.
Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…
“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE
I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….
• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~
“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“
“Get her ba-“
“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“
• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.
Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER
REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE
#headcannons#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel rosie#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel oneshots#short story#part 2?
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More asks under cut! Yippee!
@scarftale-bryan Trip for trio right? If so, I'm working on a comic for that ;0
But to help answer, I've head cannoned Elesa to originally be from Sinnoh. She and the twins didn't have the greatest first meeting, but, well, you see how they turn out later in the future so all that starts subpar ends pretty well.
@bat-in-disguise NICE NAME. VERY WOOBAT THEMED. Second of all AYYYY this is where I resurrect the shambling corpse of this fandom. Please. I desperately want to have more on the train men.
@mynamesaplant AH,,, YOU READ MY ONE SHOT,,, Okay look. Look. I love drawing comics as much as the next person. But if there's an interest towards fanfiction maybe I'll write a bit more... HMMM. HMMMMMMMM. (But anyways THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS! They keep the hearth cozy.)
@dracally3 Don't worry about the rambles! If you wander through my ask box, you'd see I ramble. A lot. That out the way-- I'm sorry to hear about the drama! Man. I got into submas towards the tail end, which I'm a bit sad about (wish I got to interact with some of the bigger creators, but they moved on to other hyperfixations and I respect that). Drama's scary though, so maybe it's for the best I dodged the entire canonball.
I'm glad my silly little characterizations of found family are healing! And I wish you the best too-- here's to happy futures ahead free of drama and full of shenanigans.
@saffalilac AYYY Togekiss is so cool! I (heh) also only drew volo's togekiss once but the fact you're the second person to talk about how much you love them makes me chuckle.
That in mind, here's a doodle.
@chime-of-bells Hello! I remember your ask about saying how much you liked togekiss in my style. Drew some togekisses and thought you'd like them too :)
@impossiblynoisyrebel AYYYY I LOVE drawing the eel dog lamprey dragon thing. Just. A tube with teeth. And giant eyes. and lovely fins. And bioluminescence!! Who doesn't love that?
@onimusha095 Look look your local floating nightlight has SOME manners. (But also, Ingo and Litwick do come to an agreement at somepoint on who the ghost type can actively chew on. Emmet's fine with it. Elesa, who has less experience with Litwick's everything, probably would not be less fine with it, and Ingo really doesn't want to loose a friend.)
@magicfeatherbean4 Hello I see you're back! (I'm fine with this. I like snail mail from folks hhehe.) That out the way-- oh yeah they're DEFINITELY getting into fisticuffs when the mood strikes. And uhh Emmet starting battles only for Ingo to finish them off? Mercilessly? Without pause? Yes. YES. I am EATING this headcannon rn. Shuffling this into the comic ideas as we speak.
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eyes half shut
hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
E Y E S H A L F S H U T
🎶 dream boy, savannah conley
“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”
Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.
“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.
“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.
A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.
He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.
Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.
It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?
Right?
Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.
Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.
Did you want to go? Absolutely not.
Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.
“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.
“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.
“Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.
You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.
At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?
“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.
“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.
“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”
“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”
Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.
“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.
“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.
“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.
“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.
“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”
“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.
“What?”
“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.
“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.
“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.
“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.
“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.
You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.
“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”
“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.
“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.
Buzzzzz.
Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.
“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.
“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”
“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.
“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.
“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.
It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.
Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.
What it would taste like. What it would feel like.
What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.
“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.
And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.
Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”
Yeah, no. This was going to suck.
“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.
“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”
Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.
“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.
“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”
Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.
“Shut up, Buckley.”
“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.
“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.
Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”
“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.
“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.
Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.
“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.
“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”
Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”
“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.
At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.
People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.
It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.
He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.
“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”
“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.
“Just saying–”
“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.
“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.
Stevie? Oh god. Why?
She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.
It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.
“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.
“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.
“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.
“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.
You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?
Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.
You.
Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–
“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.
“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.
Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.
“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.
“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.
Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.
Fuck he was pretty.
That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.
“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.
“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”
“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.
“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.
And it was everything.
It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.
His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.
Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–
“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.
“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.
“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.
“What–”
“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.
“Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.
“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.
“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.
“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.
“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”
“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.
“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.
You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.
"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.
He was a good kisser.
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#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington stranger things#steve stranger things#steve x you#steve fanfic#steve x reader#steve x fem#steve harrington series#steve harrington fic
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 01 of 06 | masterpost
word count: 5,1k | ao3 link | fic's playlist
✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, mxf sex, unprotected sex
✦ a/n: The epilogue's finally here! As I said before, I had to split it into a few parts because it turned out really long and I wanted to tie all loose ends lol I haven't finished writing it yet, but I'll try to keep posting twice a week. Many things will have changed in this, since it's set mostly in 1992. We will have some flashbacks, but I dated all the parts so it wouldn't get confusing. Hope you enjoy the read, feedback is welcome! ❤
December 31, 1991
San Francisco in December hit me with that familiar chill as soon as I stepped off the plane; I quickly slipped on my gloves and shrugged into my coat, letting out a sigh as the cold nipped at my nose and fogged up my breath. It felt weird being back after so long, back to the city where I'd lived, loved, and grown up all those years ago.
I’d bid farewell to San Francisco two years back when my art career started picking up steam, making the move to LA seem like the logical next step. Coming back to the city stirred up a pain that ran deep in my bones — a constant reminder of the happiness I once knew but could never quite recapture, a bittersweet flashback to all I'd experienced — and all that had slipped away.
Lars had invited friends and family for a massive bash at his vacation home, ringing in the end of the year and welcoming 1992 with a bang. I had a hunch the extravagant party had something to do with his recent divorce, after a rushed marriage which had barely lasted two years. He'd even sent his driver, Simon, to scoop me up from the airport.
It was a relief not to have to wrangle a taxi amidst the chaos of folks flying in for the last flights before New Year's Eve. Slipping into the Jaguar, I peeled off my sunglasses with a sigh; those shades had become my shield against being recognized in the last few months. Ever since I'd started doing TV gigs, getting spotted by strangers and paparazzi was becoming a regular thing. It came with the territory, sure, but sometimes, a girl just wanted a little peace and quiet.
"Good afternoon, Miss Burton," Simon greeted me with a smile as I hopped into the car, and I shot one right back at him. "Mr. Ulrich was really looking forward to your arrival."
"Thanks, Simon. Are the others already there?" I inquired, my gaze drifting out the window as we cruised away from the airport.
"Yes, Mr. Hammett and Mr. Newsted are. Mr. Hetfield will show up later; I'll swing back to get him after dropping you off. And Miss Summers won't be joining us."
I let out a sigh. Ever since Cliff had passed, Leanne had drifted away from the group, moving to another city and cutting most ties. She said it hurt too much to stick around — too many reminders of him . I got where she was coming from and harbored no hard feelings, but her absence had definitely put some distance between us over the years.
"Well, I'll have to shoot her a call later and wish her a Happy New Year," I mused absentmindedly. "Do you know if my aunt and uncle are gonna make it?"
"Yes, I'll pick them up later," Simon replied, earning a small smile from me. Despite Cliff's passing hitting us all hard, Aunt Jan and Uncle Ray had been a steady presence for me and the guys. They'd practically become like second parents to all of us over the years, always there in the Metallica routine, whether it was on the professional front or at family and friends' get-togethers.
It took us a bit to roll up to Lars' vacation home, a big old mansion tucked away in one of San Francisco’s most expensive neighborhoods, a far cry from the tiny house we used to live in back in the day. Simon pulled up at the main entrance; the door was wide open, and I caught a glimpse of the staff buzzing around, putting the final touches on the shindig. Judging by the crates of booze being unloaded, this was gonna be more than just a cozy New Year's bash with a few friends.
"Thanks for the ride, Simon," I said, grabbing my bag and popping open the car door. "Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year, Miss."
It didn't take me long to spot Lars; the moment I stepped into the foyer, there he was, barking orders to his assistant at lightning speed, champagne glass already in hand. I couldn't help but grin; classic Lars, hitting the booze before anyone else. He turned my way at the sound of my footsteps echoing on the polished floor, breaking into a smile as he strode over.
"Nore!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a bear hug. "I'm so stoked you made it."
"Hey, Lars," I grinned, returning the hug. It had been a hot minute since I'd seen him or any of the guys; 1991 had been a whirlwind for all of us, and work had pretty much consumed our lives at warp speed.
"How was the trip? Did Simon take good care of you?"
"Yeah, it was smooth sailing. Simon's a pro, always has been. But seriously, Lars, you shouldn't have him grinding away on the last day of the year."
"Oh, he's getting compensated handsomely for it, don't you worry. Hey, you remember your way around the house, right? Kirk and Jason are probably chilling in the sauna. Oh, Allie!" Lars called out to his assistant, a dark-haired girl who looked eager to please. "Got the guest list handy? Can you show our girl here where she'll be crashing tonight?" Allie nodded briskly, and Lars flashed me a smile, turning back to me. "Party kicks off at 9 PM, so I'm just tying up loose ends. Make yourself comfy, grab some grub if you're hungry, alright? Consider the place your own."
I trailed after Allie to my room, a fancy suite with a king-size bed that looked like it had never been slept in. Lars always had a flair for the extravagant, but Metallica's success in recent years seemed to have kicked that into overdrive; his new vacation house was straight-up lavish, with more rooms than I could count, a massive pool, a sauna, and even a private movie theater.
I decided to chill in my room until the party kicked off; as much as I was itching to catch up with everyone, I was straight-up wiped out. Lately, I'd been craving more time alone, away from the chaos of the ragers my friends used to live for. But hey, I knew we'd all cross paths eventually, and sure enough, when I finally made my grand entrance, one of the first faces I spotted was Kirk's, rolling in with James, who apparently had arrived while I was hiding out.
"Nore!" Kirk grinned, pulling me into a hug. I chuckled, hugging him back. "Damn, you're looking good!"
"Thanks, Kirk. It's all Lars' doing; he picked out the dress," I replied, nodding at the long red number I was sporting. I’d found it laid out on the bed in my room with a note telling me to rock it for the night. I eyed Kirk's suit, a slick navy number with gold accents. "You're looking sharp yourself."
"Yeah, that's all Lars' handiwork too. Dude's on a mission to throw the ultimate party. But hey, who am I to complain? There's champagne!" Kirk chuckled, clinking his glass against mine.
"Hey, Nore." I glanced up at the sound of his voice, meeting James' intense blue gaze. A faint smile tugged at my lips; being around him always stirred up a whirlwind of emotions that were hard to untangle. Love, sure, but also heartache. It stung, yet it felt oddly comforting. Like coming home.
"Hi, James," I greeted him softly. Kirk shot us a quick look.
“Well, I'm gonna go track down our host. Catch you guys later!" He excused himself. I watched Kirk saunter off, a slight jolt running through me as James' hand landed on the small of my back.
"Have you grabbed a bite to eat yet? Lars said you got here before me," he murmured, his voice low. I looked up at him, seeing his eyes scanning the crowd of guests, a champagne flute in his other hand.
"Not yet."
"Want me to snag something for you? Lars went all out with the spread this time."
"I'm good, James."
"Didn't drag your boyfriend along to the party?" he quipped, and I couldn't help but snort.
"What boyfriend?"
"That... Brian guy? I dunno, it's hard to keep up with all the dudes you've cycled through since we split," he remarked, a hint of irony dancing in his eyes. I furrowed my brow; was he joking or dead serious? It was getting tougher to read James these days.
"If you wanna know if I'm seeing someone, just ask," I shot back sharply. He let out a sardonic laugh and rolled his eyes. I held his gaze. "And what about your 'Nothing Else Matters' chick? She bailed on the party?"
"I ended things with her," he replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. "And I've told you that song wasn't about her."
"Then who was it about?"
"Do I really need to spell it out?" he growled, stepping closer. I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. James and I had been locked in this dance for a while now, his anger clashing with my pain like sparks flying. It didn't shock me that Kirk wanted no part of our little reunion.
"I'm gonna go track down Lars," I tossed back dryly before strutting off. I could practically feel James rolling his eyes as he polished off the rest of his champagne in one gulp.
I didn't cross paths with James again until much later, well after midnight had come and gone. We’d all gathered on the balcony to catch the fireworks, dishing out Happy New Year wishes and hugs left and right. When the crowd filtered back inside, I lingered behind, a cigarette dangling between my fingers as I stared up at the star-studded sky, grappling with the bitter irony that another year had kicked off without Cliff here to see it.
"I did wanna know, actually," a voice cut through the silence, jolting me. I turned to find James leaning against one of the pillars, his gaze fixed on me with a serious edge.
"What?" I murmured, my heart picking up its pace as he closed the gap between us.
"You said if I wanted to know if you were seeing someone, I just had to ask. And I did wanna know," he replied, so close now I could smell the booze on his breath.
"I'm not," I answered, and he grunted, satisfied, before pulling me into his arms, his lips finding mine.
He tasted like beer and tobacco, his lips moving against mine in a familiar dance, the echoes of an old tune. No matter how much time passed or how much it hurt, James and I always found our way back to each other.
"You know that song was about you," he murmured, his kisses trailing down my neck, his grip tightening on my hips as he pulled me closer, our bodies pressed together. "Do you really have to mess with me like this?"
I didn't answer; instead, I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him back to me, his arms holding me tight as he kissed me with urgency, nipping at my lower lip. He wasn't holding back as he pushed me against the balcony railing, his hands hiking up the skirt of my dress, his touch igniting a fire in my belly.
"My room or yours?" I gasped against his lips.
"Does yours come with a bathroom?" he quipped, and I chuckled softly, nodding. "Figures. Lars always hooks you up with the best ones."
"Mine, then," I murmured, a faint smile playing on my lips.
We made our way up to my room, James guiding me through the labyrinth of hallways and rooms in the house with his hand in mine. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, his hands were back on me, pulling me close as his lips trailed hungrily along my neck, tugging at the straps of my dress.
"James, you're gonna wreck the dress..." I protested weakly, my fingers tangled in his hair. He grunted, yanking it down, and I heard a rip that probably meant the garment was already ruined anyway.
"I'll get you another one," he grumbled. "As many as you want."
With urgency matching his, I stripped off his shirt, a few buttons popping off and bouncing across the bedroom floor. Before I could even blink, he lifted me, depositing me on the bed and positioning himself over me. I kicked off my heels, sending them flying into some forgotten corner, releasing a low moan as he pressed against me, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants. There was no time for calm contemplation, no room for hesitation or second-guessing if this was the right move; our desire for each other was insatiable, ravenous and desperate, and I felt it would consume me completely if we didn't satisfy it right then and there.
I sighed as his lips reclaimed mine, his hand tangled in my hair, gripping it firmly as I worked on unbuttoning his pants, easing them down. He pulled back for a moment, shedding the rest of his clothes before sliding off my panties, emitting a low groan as he entered me. I shut my eyes, clutching onto his arms tightly, my nails digging into his skin. He wasn't holding back; and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Look at me," he growled, his hand guiding my chin as he thrust into me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I obeyed, meeting his gaze as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, my mouth slightly agape as I let out small, sharp moans. He shifted his hand to my neck, pressing his forehead against mine.
"James..." I moaned, my grip on his arms tightening as he picked up the pace, sending shivers down my spine. "James..."
"I wanna ruin you. You get that?" he growled, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body at his words. Of course, I got it. What were we if not each other's downfall? What more could I want than for him to consume me entirely, even if just for a moment? For all the pain and heartache to vanish, if only while he was inside me. "I want you to be mine, all mine, all mine... Fuck..." he buried his face in my neck as my climax washed over me, my body clenching around him, my legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper. "Nore..." he groaned, his own release crashing over him, filling me completely as he continued to move until the intensity of his peak forced him to collapse onto me.
He rolled away, settling beside me, leaving a pulsating void inside me where pain and pleasure danced together in my womb and heart. I shut my eyes, focusing on steadying my breath, and let out a soft chuckle when I felt his lips on my neck, his arms pulling me close in a fleeting but genuine comfort.
"My girl..." he murmured against my ear, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. I'd lost track of how many times he'd called me that, but it never failed to stir something in me. "Why do you keep running from me? Don't you know I love you so?"
I opened my eyes, locking onto his gaze, a blend of longing and yearning reflected back at me. Nestling into his embrace, I placed a soft kiss on his lips, feeling his gaze soften into a tender warmth that sent tingles down my spine.
"I'm here now," I murmured, tracing my fingers gently over his face. He sighed, closing his eyes, intertwining our hands and pressing kisses to my palm, one, two, three times before pulling me close in a tight hug.
Peace hadn't been a frequent visitor in my life for a while, but in that moment, I found it. I'd always find my way back to James, and he'd always find his way back to me. That certainty coursed through my veins, leaving me feeling whole in a way I hadn't in ages.
The next day, we'd be back in the spotlight, the distance between us creeping back in like a toxic fog. But for now, on that night, I was content. I was at peace.
I was home.
September 28, 1986
The shrill ring of the phone pierced through the silence of the empty house, yanking me out of a deep slumber with a groan. I blinked, the heavy rain drumming against the bedroom windows registering in my foggy mind. Stretching out across the bed, I groped for James, only to remember he wasn't there; my boyfriend was off on tour with my cousin and my friends. That left just Leanne and me holding down the fort.
Dragging myself out of bed, my eyes still weighed down by sleep, I shrugged into my robe and slipped on my slippers before trudging out of the room, descending the stairs at a snail's pace. Flicking on the lights in the living room, I scowled at the clock — it wasn't even seven in the morning. This better be an important call, I grumbled inwardly. I was itching to crawl back under the covers.
"Hey," I mumbled, stifling a yawn and rubbing my eyes in an attempt to shake off the sleepiness.
"Hey, Nore," James' voice crackled through the receiver, but in my grogginess, I barely registered the tense undertone, so unlike his usual laid-back demeanor.
"Babe..." I murmured, another yawn threatening to escape. "I know you're in a different time zone, but it's way early here. I was out cold..."
"I'm sorry. I had to call," he replied, and this time, the strain in his voice didn't go unnoticed. I furrowed my brow, sinking down onto the couch beside the phone, suddenly wide awake.
"Is everything alright? Did something happen?"
"Yeah, something happened. Is Leanne there with you?"
"I think she's asleep. Why?"
"We had a crash," he said, and my heart clenched, a surge of unease and dread knotting my stomach. "We were on the road... Late at night. The driver lost control..."
My breath hitched, and in that instant, a sense of foreboding washed over me. Something felt off, deeply unsettling. It just didn't add up. I knew I should be getting this call from someone else. I knew my cousin; I knew Cliff would want to speak to me and Leanne directly, to break the news himself.
Like when he shared he was leaving Long Beach for San Francisco. Like when he announced he was joining Metallica. Like when he called to tell me Dave got booted from the band, or when he rang to say Metallica was wrapping up tour and he wanted me there for their first hometown gig after dropping the first album.
Something wasn't right.
"James," I whispered, my voice trembling, tears pricking at my eyes as if I already knew what he was going to say. "What happened to Cliff?"
January 1st, 1992
I jolted awake, my cheeks damp with tears that refused to cease flowing. I sighed heavily, my breath shaky, the early morning sunlight just beginning to seep through the curtains. James' arms were wrapped snugly around me, his breath warm against my shoulder as he softly snored.
That dream, again.
It always seemed to resurface whenever I was near James. Maybe my subconscious still linked him to that chilly morning, to that phone call that’d shattered any hope of happiness for the rest of that year and beyond. A call that tore a hole in the fabric of my world, leaving an ache in my heart that felt like it would never mend.
The call that had shattered my heart for good, leaving no chance of putting the pieces back together.
I carefully shifted James' arm away from me, slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I took in my tired blue eyes framed by dark circles, my brown hair tumbling in waves over my shoulders, and the red marks on my neck and collarbone left by James the night before. With a sigh, I opened the bathroom cabinet, my hands trembling slightly as I reached for the pills I knew would help ease my anxiety.
I lacked the courage to return to bed, so I nestled into one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, observing James' peaceful slumber as the daylight gradually filled the space. He stirred awake soon after, as if sensing my absence beside him, his eyelids fluttering before he groggily opened his eyes. With a puzzled frown, he reached out for the bed, only to find it empty, prompting him to scan the room. A sigh escaped him when he spotted me, a sense of relief washing over his features that tugged at my heartstrings.
"Bad dream?" he inquired, and I simply nodded in response. "You wanna hop back into bed?"
"I'd rather not risk slipping into another nightmare," I admitted, and he sighed, sitting upright.
"Well, I know a surefire way to keep you awake, if you're interested," he quipped, and I managed a shaky laugh. I much preferred this relaxed and caring version of James to the sarcastic and irritable one from the night before. "So, spill. What was haunting you this time?"
"The usual. That day," I murmured. It wasn't anything new; I'd replayed that nightmare countless times, and James was well aware. My demons weren't a mystery to us, but that didn't make them any less terrifying.
With a sigh, he got up and strolled over to me, scooping me up effortlessly, which elicited a surprised gasp from me. He carried me back to bed, settling me down beside him, his hand securing my waist while the other supported the underside of my thighs, lifting one leg and tucking it around his waist. I hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his chest. It was a brief moment of warmth and solace, a fleeting calmness that I knew would vanish as soon as the day kicked into gear and he walked out that door.
"Are you taking off today?" I whispered softly. I understood that once James and I dove back into our regular routines — fame, commitments, the whole mess — things would get complicated again. I'd lose him once more; I'd been through that too many times in the last few years to entertain any other outcome. But as long as we were together, there, shielded from everything else, he was mine. And I craved his presence. I craved his warmth.
"Do you want me to jet today?" he countered, and I shook my head no. He grumbled under his breath, the rumble vibrating against my cheek as I snuggled closer. "Then I'll hang tight. I suppose we can annoy Lars a bit longer."
"I'm too scared to doze off," I admitted weakly, grappling with the heaviness of my eyelids, which threatened to seal shut from exhaustion. James planted a kiss on the top of my head, gently stroking my hair.
"I ain't budging. If you slip into that nightmare again, I'll be right here when you wake up. Deal?" he whispered, and I nodded.
I knew that as soon as I drifted off, that same haunting dream would likely rear its ugly head. It was just one more cruel reminder of the growing chasm between James and me. It felt like we were broken, perpetually out of sync, and his nearness both healed and wounded me in equal measure. But in that moment, I was willing to bear the pain if it meant he'd stick by my side.
"I love you, Jamie," I murmured, and he sighed, pulling me close as my body surrendered to sleep.
"I love you too, Nore," his voice was the last thing I heard before drifting off.
February 18, 1992
The bouquet of red roses James had given me was beginning to droop, the once vibrant petals shriveling and browning with each passing day. Yet, the fragrance lingering in the air remained sweet and evocative, as if the flowers were still in full bloom.
I sighed as I ran a brush through my hair, eyeing the dress laid out on the bed for the evening bash. It was the launch party for the new TV network schedule I'd been hired for, and showing up was not just a courtesy but a must.
I hadn't crossed paths with James much since our time at Lars' getaway spot. His absence had become a familiar ache over the last few years, a kind of shield we'd unintentionally built between us over time. Yet, there was always that tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd call out of the blue and bring back that sense of ease with his voice.
To my surprise, the phone did ring that day. I set the brush down on the vanity, hurriedly making my way to the bedside table to answer it, a rush of excitement coursing through me.
“Nore?” the voice on the other end wasn't James', but it still warmed my heart, prompting a smile to spread across my face as I sank back onto the bed, cradling the phone to my ear.
“Lea!” I exclaimed, feeling a surge of joy. “It's been too long! How've you been?”
“I'm great! And you?”
“Oh, you know. Just hanging in there. How's Joe?” I swiftly changed the subject. As much as I adored Leanne, I wasn't ready to spill my guts about how I was really feeling.
“Oh, he's doing fantastic. Actually, that's why I rang you up. We're getting married!” she announced, her excitement palpable, and I couldn't help but smile.
“Lea, that's incredible! When's the big day?”
“It's in August. We figured summer would be perfect. I'm calling to extend the invite; would you do me the honor of being one of my bridesmaids?”
I leaped up, my grin stretching wider across my face. Leanne and I had been thick as thieves since day one; seeing her so thrilled about tying the knot, and knowing she wanted me to be part of her big day, warmed my heart.
“Oh, absolutely!” I exclaimed, a bubbling laugh of joy and surprise escaping my lips. Lea chuckled in response, matching my excitement. “Thank you! I know it's going to be beautiful. Can you fill me in on all the details later?”
The rest of my day sparkled with newfound energy after the news; I even caught myself humming an old song as I finished getting dolled up for the evening bash, weaving my hair into an intricate hairdo my mom had insisted on teaching me.
When I finished getting ready, I checked myself out in the mirror, pretty pleased with the result; the dark blue spaghetti-strap dress hugged my curves just right, with the skirt flaring out at the waist and skimming down to my ankles. A dainty golden choker with crystals adorned my neck, and my long brown locks were styled to perfection, framing my face in all the right places, with my eyes sparkling, cheeks a touch flushed, and lips painted red.
But, of course, I couldn't roll up to an event like that on my own; right on the dot at 7 p.m., I heard the honk signaling my ride had arrived. I sauntered down the stairs, arching an eyebrow in surprise as I stepped outside and spotted the limo parked up front. My old friend Charlotte rolled down the window from the backseat, flashing me a big grin.
“Hey, Nore!” she chirped as I slid into the car, handing over a glass of champagne, which earned a soft chuckle from me. “Ready to rock?”
“I guess I’m a bit jittery. First time going to a party like this one,” I admitted. Now that I was on my way, the thought of facing a swarm of photographers and journalists at the event’s entrance was making me more nervous than I cared to admit, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.
“Well, it's gonna be a blast, trust me! Everyone who's anyone will be there. I'll be your wingwoman, so don't worry about a thing. I'll make sure you rub elbows with all the big shots you haven't bumped into yet during the shoots.”
I nodded, taking a bit of champagne to settle my nerves, the bubbles dancing on my tongue and momentarily diverting my attention. If my acting career was taking flight now, it was all thanks to Charlie; she'd been the driving force behind my return to the scene after I’d graduated High School, persuading me to switch gears from the Visual Arts program up in San Francisco to Drama School down in Los Angeles, and had even helped me snag my first TV gig.
I'd recently jumped into acting over at the same TV network where Charlotte had been working as an actress for a while. Even though I hadn't wrapped up recording my first project yet, the buzz around a relatively unknown actress snagging the lead in the latest drama series had caught the media’s attention. In just about a year, my life had changed completely, going from being just another face in the crowd to even having paparazzi tail me. But truth be told, I was still getting the lay of the land at the network. Charlie had hit the nail on the head; this party was prime time to make some connections.
We rolled up to the party spot; I soon realized that navigating through the sea of photographers and reporters on that red carpet was no joke. But once I got past the Q&A, which mostly revolved around my work and career, it was time to get down to business. Charlotte ushered me into conversations with all sorts of folks: actors, musicians, executives, and even some of the network's shareholders. It hit me quick that networking at these parties was just as much a part of the job in the entertainment industry as being good at your craft.
The hours zoomed by amid chats, laughter, drinks, and nibbles. Soon, I was feeling drained and decided to grab a bite from the buffet before taking a breather. As I was fixing my plate, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, expecting it to be Charlie, ready to introduce me to someone new.
Never in a million years could I have guessed what awaited me in the next few seconds.
"Nore... Is that really you?" the man exclaimed, looking utterly astonished, and suddenly I was eighteen again, my heart racing in completely uncontrollable pirouettes as my breath hitched, my surprised gaze meeting his, the world filling with color and song as I stared into the eyes of Dave Mustaine.
✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope
#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you#james hetfield x you
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Thoughts that I wanted to share about the brothers Hawthorne/ the grandest game bc I don’t wanna make a million posts about each one 💀
1: Phone girls dad literally shot himself ON. HER. BIRTHDAY. 😭😭
2: Skye Hawthorne MIGHT be in the grandest game, because when Avery got bombed and Ricky and skye got arrested for it, they found out that it actually wasn’t them which means they prob got out of jail (maybe not Ricky but probably skye) and she might be controlling one of the players
3: WE’LL PROBABLY GET TO SEE A SUNSHINE X GRUMPY TROPE!! (Mathias and Gigi)
4: we’ll see which 7 contestants avery will pick for the game!! (While I was writing that instead of contestants I accidentally put tributes 💀)
5: we might learn more about Toby’s backstory (or just the Hawthorne backstories in general, like Zara’s, nans or Alice’s)
6: speaking of Alice, SOMEHOW THAT OLD GRANDMAS GOING TO BE ALIVE
7: this isn’t really a prediction but more just like a possible hint for the grandest game, but when grayson tells his brothers about the riddle “what begins a bet? Not that”, Jameson says this
He says “what’s the opposite of a handshake?” And I found a picture online that shows multiple different options of what could be the opposite of a handshake
Basically most of the words on there kind of show “misinterpretation” or just different words for some sort of mistake, so would that mean that the “beef” (im just gonna call it that bc I don’t rlly know what went down) between tobias and thomas thomas was maybe accidental?? Or maybe they got into a disagreement that ended in thomas ending his life? All the book really shows is that one paragraph (that I highlighted in green) that talks about what Jameson thought of the riddle, and then Jameson was talking to Avery about the game (probs bc jlb didn’t wanna drop too many hints lmao) And then if you add it in with the “abet” theory ⬇️
It said that one of the opposites of a handshake were “refusal” and “disagreement”, so what if tobias had wanted thomas to aid one of his crimes and thomas refused, and maybe tobias gave him an ultimatum which is why he shot himself?? It’s so confusing bc what would tobias even do that was so horrible that thomas had to shoot himself, I really don’t know. but if anyone has some theory’s on this pls lmk! 🫶
8: holy guacamole 7 was a long one, but anyway i feel like there are definitely more hints on the grandest game in the brothers Hawthorne then there were in the final gambit, even though in (i think tig is the one that clue was from?) the inheritance games “special” edition bc idk what their called it said “hints in the final gambit”. (although one loose end from tig was David Golding, and @riddles-n-games had a good theory about that) But i read the final gambit entirely and didn’t find a single clue other than David, so that’s kinda weird (unless somebody else found something else they found interesting in that book?)
9: Eve might also be behind one of the players, or just trying to get involved with the game so she could get the cash prize or whatever else it is that that psycho needs 🙄
10: we’ll (most likely, bc I’m 99.9% sure that she’ll be in tgg) see what phone girl looks like and see which one of us were right 😜
11: kinda random but i will bet a whole 5 dollars that phone girls name is either gonna be flower related, or just straight up be lily. Or maybe both, but just think of how ironic that would be (there are calla lilys all over the cover of tgg… 🤷♀️)
12: LIBBY NASH WEDDING!!! 🤭🤭🤭💗
13: so off topic but WHERE DO GRAYSON AND JAMESON GET THEIR MONEY FROM??? like I’m sure jameson probably gets some cash from his billionaire girlfriend, but what about grayson?? he says in tbh that he’s “buried in work” but what kind of work does he do?? and who does he work for?? 🤨
14: Okay this is gonna be the last one bc i need to shut up, but does anybody have an idea on what some things in the grandest game cover might symbolize? we know about the lilys and the opal rings, but other than that i CANT seem to figure out anything else on there 😭😭
and okay that’s all thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫶😊🙌
#the inheritance games#jameson hawthorne#nash hawthorne#avery kylie grambs#grayson hawthorne#xander hawthorne#the brothers hawthorne#libby grambs#maxine liu#phone girl#the grandest game#jennifer lynn barnes#the final gambit#thomas thomas#calla lily
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