#hellraiser (2022)

[yawnzshit]

who gets me WHO GETS ME!!!!!

( insanely in love with him ; I love him sm 🙏)

[sweeetestcurse]

Jamie Clayton as The Priest in Hellraiser (2022)

[cadmeans]

Drew Starkey as Trevor — Hellraiser (2022) dir. David Bruckner

[margonika00]

I'm sorry, but so far I can only show you the VIP. These are two works in two different Zines. One is about Halloween, the other is about horror movies.

[deathtown]

Hellraiser (2022)

[heustons]

HELLRAISER 2022・dir. david bruckner

[sworeidnevercompromise]

❤️‍🔥 burning desire: a trevor (hellraiser) x reader fic about: the "i love you" scene but with y/n and also with a different outcome warnings: 18+, oral (m&f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex word count: 2.3k ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ other works

AUTHOR'S NOTE: just a quick little thing i wrote after watching hellraiser for the hundredth time. tbh i wrote this during a lecture & was too lazy to edit (finals week) so if there's any mistakes or anything feels rushed, that's why.

“Harder, go harder,” you gasp, as Trevor drives his hips down into you, shaking the bed. 

He glances down at you. “Are you you sure?” His hands tangle into your hair.

“Yeah, harder,” you plead, your back arching off the bed. But it’s not enough. You need to switch positions. “No, no, wait, wait, wait. Turn me around.”

He doesn’t hesitate, following your orders instantly, flipping you around so you’re on your stomach. He presses his dick back inside of you, not moving yet, clearly waiting for you to tell him when to go. God, he’s so obedient that it almost makes you sick.

“Okay, go. Yeah.” You turn your head to the side, cheek resting on your pillow. 

He sinks deeper into you. “Here? Right here?” He sounds so eager to please you, so desperate to make sure you feel good. And, fuck, do you ever. 

“Go, go, go,” you command, moaning as he rocks his hips, his dick sliding in and out of you. He moves a little bit faster, gripping your hips.

He moans. “How’s this speed? Is this good?” You moan in response, too full of pleasure to focus. “You like that?”

You nod, groaning out a little “yeah.” He keeps up the pace, his strokes hitting your G-spot every time, filling you with waves of pleasure. “Yeah, yeah, I love it.” You moan again, getting closer and closer to cumming with each passing moment. You arch your back, rolling your hips to meet his.

He moans, moving a little bit faster, his grip on your hips getting tighter. “I love you,” he gasps. 

You pause your movements, a little taken aback. “What? Wait, wait.” You move away, his dick dragged out of you completely. You turn around.

He blinks, seeming to realize what he’s just said. “Oh, fuck.” He rolls over, laying down beside you, placing his hands over his face. “Shit. I didn’t mean to say that.”

You sit up, looking over at him. “Trevor.”

He shakes his head, his hands still hiding his face. “Fuck. Y/n…”

You grab his wrists, pulling his hands away. You need to discuss this, damn it. He can’t just act like he didn’t say that. “Trevor. Look at me.”

His face is beet red. You’ve never seen him this embarrassed. “Nah, listen, we can just pretend I didn’t say that. Please?” He looks desperate. Fuck, he looks like he’s going to cry. “We’ve got, like, a good friends-with-benefits thing going. I didn’t mean to fuck it up like that.”

You still haven’t let go of his wrists. “Did you mean it?” You hear yourself ask the question before you realize it’s left your mouth. 

He sits up, shaking your hands off. “...What?”

You pull the blanket around you, covering yourself up. You suddenly feel vulnerable, and a little uncertain. You hate feeling like that. It’s feelings like those that drive you back to drugs every time. You fiddle with the edge of the blanket. “You heard me. Did you mean it?”

He blinks at you, covering himself up with one of your pillows. He must feel just as uncertain and vulnerable as you do right now. Shit, he must feel it way worse than you. Damn, you think, he’d better not cry. He’s right. You do have a good friends-with-benefits thing going. He’s a good friend to you, he understands you more than anyone, when it comes to being an addict. And he’s damn good in bed, even if he’s a little overeager. His stroke game is fucking insane. You don’t want to lose that. You’re so lost in thought that you almost forget he hasn’t answered your question yet. “Trevor. Answer me.”

He rests his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands again. “Fuck, y/n, no. Not like that. I…I love you as a friend, and I love fucking you. But I don’t love you. Can we just pretend I didn’t say that? Please?” He answers too quickly. You know he’s lying. He’s an awful liar.

You hesitate before rubbing his back softly. “Trevor, it’s okay, alright? I just…it caught me off guard.”

He stands up, suddenly, practically leaping off the bed and throwing his clothes on. “I’m gonna go,” he says as he’s getting his shirt on, “I’ll just…yeah. I should leave.”

You blink at him. “Trevor, it’s okay. Seriously. I don’t…I don’t care, alright?” And the thing is, you don’t. It’s a little weird, sure, if he does love you, but whatever. You can’t lose this. Not just the sex. You can’t lose him as a friend. 

He stops. “What?”

You scoot to the edge of the bed, still holding the blanket around yourself. “Come on, Trevor. It’s okay, if you do. I mean, I can’t say that I, like, feel the same? But I do love you as a friend, and…and I want to keep doing what we’re doing.”

He shakes his head. “Y/n…I can’t keep doing this. Like…I care about you too much. More than as a friend. And I got caught up in the moment, and I guess it’s out in the open now.”

You sigh, deeply. You can’t lose this. You have to fix this. How can you get him to stay? What should you do? 

Oh. You know. You drop the blanket, pouting.

“Come on, Trev. I didn’t even cum, yet. You’re gonna leave without finishing the job?”

He stares at you, eyes instantly falling to your perfect tits, and he looks like he’s in a daze. He shakes his head slowly. “N-no. No, I’m not gonna leave without finishing the job.”

You nod just as slowly. “That’s right. C’mere.” You lean forward, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down, revealing that he’s half-hard in his boxers. He looks down at you before lifting his shirt off over his head. You smile up at him. “Yeah?”

He smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You kneel in front of him, knees cold on the hardwood floor. But you don’t care. You need him to stay. Who gives a fuck if he’s in love with you or not? You’re not about to let the best dick of your life walk out the door. You palm him through his boxers. He groans your name. “Y/n��”

You pull his boxers down, his now fully-hard dick springing out. You look up at him as you lick a long stripe up his shaft, tongue flicking over his tip. He tangles one hand into your hair, not pushing yet. You pull away, nodding slightly, before taking just the first inch or two into your mouth. He looks down at you, making eye contact. “You sure?”

You pull off again, pressing a kiss to his tip. “Yes, Trevor. I’m sure.” You wrap your mouth around his cock again, this time going about halfway down. He moves your head, just barely, until you’ve gotten almost all of his dick into your mouth. You begin to bob your head, your warm mouth enveloping him, glossy lips wrapped around his length. He gets a little bit more confident, moving your head a bit more forcefully, making you take all of him into your mouth, until his tip is hitting your throat. You moan around him, the salty taste of his precum and the weight of him in your mouth causing you to get even wetter than you were from before. 

“Shit, y/n,” he groans, “So fucking good.” You let him move your head, giving him complete control. You almost choke, this time, but you don’t, tears filling your eyes. He moves his other hand to cup your cheek, wiping a tear away. “God, you’re beautiful.”

You keep going, licking and sucking, hollowing your cheeks, until he can’t take it anymore. When he cums, there’s no warning, but you manage not to choke, swallowing all of it and kissing his shaft. His knees almost buckle as he cums, and once he’s done, he lays down on the bed, sighing happily. 

“Fuck.”

You curl up next to him. “That good?”

He nods, brushing your hair out of your face. “Yeah.” You both lay there for a few moments until he’s flipping you onto your back without warning, lifting your legs so he can reposition himself. Your legs are on his shoulders, his head between them, and he’s gripping your thighs. He kisses you just below your belly button. “Your turn.”

You smile down at him, running a hand through his hair, leading him further down. He kisses your clit, and it’s so tender that you think shit, he really does love me. He licks long, broad strokes, flattening his tongue. Then, he’s pointing it, licking into the heat of you, gripping your thighs tighter. He lets your hand that’s in his hair guide him, and it’s fucking perfect. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, big eyes bottomless, his pupils blown wide. He licks your clit quickly, teasing you. 

“Fuuuuck,” you moan, pleasure building, “That’s really fucking good.” He presses two fingers inside of you, still tonguing your clit. He curls his fingers and licks harder, before sucking on the bud. You moan louder than you have all night. “Fuck, Trevor, that’s so good, so fucking good, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-” You cum, squirting all over his face, and he keeps going, the overstimulation driving you crazy. “Fuuuuuuck. Shit. Trevor, I…oh, God.”

He kisses your thighs as you shake through your orgasm, and rubs little patterns on them when you’re finally done. “You good?” He looks so…vulnerable. Almost like a little puppydog.

“Yeah,” you breathe, “I’m good.” But you’re not, you need more, you need him in you, need him to pound you like he was before he let the “I love you” slip. You shake your head. “Actually, I…I need more.” 

He stares at you. “Shouldn’t we…I dunno. Talk? About what I said?”

“Listen, we can work something out. I mean…we’re basically dating, right?”

He sighs. “Y/n…people don’t say ‘I love you’ this early into a relationship.” 

You groan. How can you make him understand? What do you have to do to get that you don’t really give a shit? You’ve never been big on relationships, but if he wants to be your boyfriend, fuck it. You care about him, and you’re good friends, and he’s literally the best you’ve ever had. Who cares if he says “I love you” too early? You want him, in any way he’ll let you. So you say exactly that, all in one breath, inhaling deeply once you’re done. He just stares at you.

“Are you…sure?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “God, can you just shut the hell up and fuck me already?”

He nods eagerly. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He moves up so his face is right above yours, tossing your legs over his shoulders again. He picks you up slightly, reaching for a pillow and placing it under your lower back before laying you back down. “This position good?”

You nod, gesturing for him to get a move on. He’s already hard again. Fuck, he’s so adorable. You smile at him. “It’s great, baby.”

He grins widely at the petname. “We do have to talk, after, you know-”

You smack his shoulder, urging him to shut the hell up. He gets the hint, shutting up and sinking into you balls-deep. Your back arches so much that you practically levitate off of the bed. 

“Oh, God, Trevor.” The two of you make practically electric eye contact. He smiles down at you, rolling his hips. 

He gets an arm under your shoulders, and he leans down to kiss your cheek sloppily. “Ah, shit.” He moans. “How’s this? Faster? Tell me what you need right now.”

You shake your head. “This is perfect. Just…ah, a little deeper, maybe?” He follows your instructions right away. “Yeah, yes, fuck that’s good.” 

It’s not long before you’re both moaning louder than before, the sounds filling your room. His strokes get more sloppy, and his hips stutter. You look at him, refocusing your eyes. “Close?”

He nods, and then shakes his head. “No, I can keep going, sorry-”

You laugh a little breathlessly. “Trevor, it’s okay. I am too.”

“Fuck.” He looks at you with big, bottomless eyes, and they may as well be heart-shaped. “Fuck, y/n, I love you.” You kiss him, and that’s what sends him over the edge. Your orgasm quickly follows, starting just as he’s spilling into you. 

He kisses all over your face before pulling out and laying down next to you, breathing heavily. You curl into his side. “You said it again.”

He groans. “I know. Fuck, I’m an idiot, I keep messing up.”

You kiss his cheek. “Say it one more time for me? I like hearing you say it.”

He blinks at you, but does what you asked. “I love you, y/n.”

A grin overtakes your face. “Yeah?”

He grabs your hand, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “‘M sorry.” Scooting closer to him, you wrap your arms around him in a hug. He instantly gets comfortable, hugging you back, kissing the top of your head. “No, not…I’m not sorry, I’m not sorry for loving you, I’m sorry for saying it.”

“Trevor, don’t worry about it, really. I don’t love you back, not like that, not yet, but…I want to be something more than just friends with benefits. I want…I want to be your girlfriend. Seriously.” He kisses you deeply, tongue meeting yours. “You have to stop kissing me like that, you know. Unless you want to go another round.”

He grins at you, rolling you onto your back. “I could go another round, yeah.” You laugh, kissing his cheek. 

Sure, it’s complicated. But you two can figure it out. You have to.

[thecameronchronicles]

Unexpected

TW: mentions of pregnancy. Heavy angst. Language. Minor mention of gore.

SUMMARY: Trevor and you just learned you are going to have a baby! It would be good news if there wasn't a secret he was keeping from you...

*REQUESTED*

Anonymous Asked:

Hiii! Could you do a hellraiser trevor one shot where he gets her pregnant and realizes he's in too deep and her and his baby are going to die if he doesn't do something about it

Unexpected

It was as clear as day. Two pink lines from the third test you've taken this morning. The others only confirm that in which you already suspected.

You're pregnant.

Tears fill behind your eyes as you are terrified of what this means. Although you know there is an unspoken commitment between you and Trevor, his expression confirms that happiness isn't his first emotion, even if his own eyes are glossy.

"I'm -" You're about to apologize when he rushes to his keys set in the bowl beside the door and put to his car.

"Trevor!"

"I-I have to take care of something!"

"RIGHT NOW?" You call to him as he quickly shuffles on a pair of shoes and pulls the handle to leave.

"I'm sorry. I...I'm sorry." He takes the words from your mouth as you settle into your heartbreak in the midst of the living room. Only, you aren't left alone. Understanding there is a life within you, you steady your emotions the best you can given your accelerated hormones, and place your hand on your stomach.

"Hey in there. I promise everything is going to be okay." You rub softly, afraid even the softest of movements will somehow affect the baby. It causes you to make an appointment, which is what you do instead of dwelling on the abandonment.

Trevor accelerated through town, hitting the steering wheel with tears threatening to blur his view, before finally coming to the decrepit house on the edge. It was once beautiful and now a fortress fortified for what was to come. The things he tried to protect you from...

"Voight!" He calls, rushing through each gothic-themed room in the continuation of a seemingly useless name.

"Vo-"

"What is it?" Voight, a man struggling to breathe with the contraption punishing him for his greed, holds himself up from around the corner.

"I want out."

"Out? There is no "out"."

"Well make one! I can't be a part of this-"

"We made a deal-"

"I can't -I...I won't do it."

"You stopped having a choice when you got a taste of what you wanted and asked for more. Now you're going to help me..." He removed the cursed object that was once a cube, now more an arrowhead as he tenses. Knowing the capabilities and the torment, his skin dampens and his teeth clench.

"Please. I...I'm gonna have a kid. I can't..."

"You think pity will change things? You are so truly naive. Now do what you were hired to before I take you from the equation completely." He threatens Trevor as he is left in temporary silence.

A silence that leaves him pensive.

A silence that makes him understand the possibilities.

If his own mind wasn't desperate for some compromise, your text coming through prompted him to commit to it.

Y/N: I have an appointment at two. Not that you'll be there, just thought you should know.

"It's for you, baby. Shit-babies? It's for my family..."

A FEW HOURS LATER

"Voight?" Trevor leads the man from his rest as he follows him in conversation. Trevor plays the role of reinvigorated henchman, having kept you in the forefront of his mind. He wonders if you've eaten since you haven't been able to most of the last few days. He hopes you're resting but estimated you're probably pacing in between the thought of cursing him out and breaking up with him. Eventually, he uses the motivation of you and the unborn child to drag him from reservation and into effort.

"I was thinking what if I lured someone..." He begins to discuss a plot that piques Voight's interest. It's enough to distract him as he disguises the ruse of a get rich quick scheme and a quick job. An intriguing detail leaving suspicion on him.

"You want me to give you the device?"

"If the girl can come across it then it'll latch onto her. I'll have to get close to her. I'll be believable. Just like how I was to Y/N." The acid of his untruth burns and yet he commits.

"I'll conceal it. Get me that box from the Hennessy job." Trevor disappears before cursing at himself for his lacking wisdom to get Voight's trust.

And then comes another idea.

"The doors. Are they secure enough?"

"I made sure." Voight says as he begins to place the device away. Trevor is running out of time and he knows it.

"Last time I checked, the gear stuck. I couldn't get it-"

"You probably broke it-" He mutters, leaving the device unattended as he looks for the electrical box. Once hunched over it, Trevor carefully conceals the device in his sweatshirt and moves behind Voight.

He has to time this perfectly...

Carefully...

Without being detected...

"AHHHH! HELP ME!" Voight cries out as his hand becomes lodged between the gears. Bones and flesh crushed, he is dependent on Trevor's nonexistent mercy.

"What are you doing? I helped you!"

"I'm not risking my family." Taking out the device, he placed the opening of the end to Voight's flailing finger until it latches.

"What have you done?! After all I did for you!?"

"I tried to reason-" Voight reaches for Trevor, managing to grab a hold of his collar.

"They'll come for you. If not today-NO! NO! PLEASE! HIM! I'VE GIVEN YOU OFFERINGS-NOOOO!" Voight calls, his body contorted before he is dragged from sight. The snap of bone and tear from life is all that remains as Trevor steps quickly in the opposite direction from the nightmare taken from him. The sound of chain and the smell of iron linger and haunt him as he rushes into his car.

He takes a minute to try and erase what he saw. Just as the nausea begins to control him, he sees your bracelet hanging from his mirror. You replace and recycle his thoughts for what the future could hold. In an instant, the blood, gore, and deception shapeshift into something filled with hope and goodness.

A true light in the dark.

He rushes back through town and up through the hospital and to the OBGYN sector. Once inside, he finds you holding back tears in the waiting room.

"Trevor?" He's on his knees in front of you, hands desperately holding yours.

"I'm here, baby. Are you okay?"

"I was...anxious. I'm fine." You retract your hands, always used to being let down by him. Whether it is jobs that only last long enough to pay bills or being second choice to a bar when he's stressed, he knows now is the time to step up. He knows you need more and he wants to be that for you.

"I'm going to be better, baby. For you. For us." His hand lowers to your stomach.

"Y/N?" You get summoned, both you and Trevor on your feet. You follow behind a technician who leads you into a room stolen from most light. It reminds him of Voight's expensive dungeon. You misread this for anxiety and your shared worry drives your hand to join his.

"This is the baby..." It is more a collection of shapes than an identifiable form and yet it's yours. A join of you and Trevor. A life. A future. A revelation and a chance.

Trevor takes your hand and leads it to his mouth for a kiss.

"I promise baby, everything will be okay." You're foolishly in love with him and yet never once have seen such sincerity behind his eyes. You trust it, even if some secrets will be bound to remain just that, you clutch and hold that which you see possible.

No matter how unexpected.

MASTERLIST

[k-wame]

DREW STARKEY as 'Trevor' 2022 • Hellraiser • Horror • dir. David Bruckner

[saltystarkey]

TRACK 2 ☆.ᐟ

“I’m not here to gawk at Drew Starkey—no, I’m here to work.”

In which M/N’s loft, full of weed smoke, Modello cans, and loud music, sets the stage for a conversation about his future. Odessa pushes him to audition for the iconic role of Pinhead, which M/N initially resists. But after learning Drew Starkey will star alongside him, M/N’s nerves shift to excitement. Can he handle the pressure of playing such a legendary character, and how will he handle playing along Drew?

Warnings: Hellraiser mention, pinhead mention, horror movie? Drew Starkey being sexy as Trevor, sex scene mention lol that’s all yo

The evening in M/N’s loft was thick with the heavy aroma of weed and the sweet scent of Modello, which rested in the cold hands of both him and Odessa. The apartment had the quintessential New York grit to it—grunge, art, and a whole lot of attitude. The air was thick with the remnants of cigarette smoke, some incense lingering in the air, and the ever-present hum of music blasting from an old record player that seemed to know more about life than most people.

The walls of the loft were decorated with a chaotic mix of vintage posters—some featuring classic rock bands, others showcasing models lounging on hot cars, and a few of old-school mechanics bent over vintage engines. The colors were muted, but the posters provided bursts of bright neon yellows, reds, and blues.

On one side of the room, a mechanic’s workbench sat, the worn leather tools hanging in every crevice, the space usually where M/N tinkered with motorcycles or threw around the tools he used to get his hands dirty. The other side was home to an old sofa covered in patched-up denim and vintage band tees, which had long ago become the place for hanging out and having deep, sometimes too loud conversations with friends, or for nights like this—just him and Odessa.

M/N leaned against the island in the kitchen, his body effortlessly relaxed. He was dressed in his usual low-key but alluring look—black shorts that hung low on his hips, just enough to hint at his V-line and show off a little happy trail. No shirt. He didn’t need one. His tattoos peeked out from his arms, chains and bracelets dangled from his wrist, and a low-cut chain rested against his chest, the perfect touch to complete the ensemble.

“Seriously, you have to do it,” Odessa’s voice cut through the smoky haze, her tone persistent yet gentle. She leaned back into the threadbare couch, kicking her feet up on the edge, a joint between her fingers as she exhaled slowly, the smoke spiraling in the dim light.

M/N took a long drag off his own joint, letting the smoke roll out of his mouth in slow, heavy rings. “Nah, Odessa,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes shifted to the cluttered loft, avoiding her gaze. He wasn’t going to be swayed. He couldn’t be. “I’m good. I’m not… I’m not cut out for something like that. Pinhead? That’s—nah.”

Odessa clicked her tongue, shifting her weight so that she was facing him directly, eyes narrowing with her usual knowing smile. She let the joint fall from her fingers and into the ashtray with a soft sizzle. “You don’t get it, do you? This is it. This is your shot.” She ran a hand through her messy hair, looking at him like he was an idiot for not seeing the obvious. “You’d kill it. I’ve seen the way you transform, how you throw yourself into a character. This role… you’re perfect for it, M/N. And they know it. I know it.”

M/N didn’t respond right away. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, still trying to avoid eye contact. He wasn’t convinced. He couldn’t bring himself to take that leap. The thought of filling such legendary shoes made him feel like an imposter. He wasn’t sure if he could live up to expectations.

“Pinhead?” he repeated, his voice soft, like he was trying to convince himself more than her. “I mean… that’s a huge role. That’s not just some random character. It’s Pinhead. The one everyone knows. The one that… everyone remembers.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I don’t think I’m that—”

��Don’t sell yourself short.” Odessa’s voice was sharp, and her eyes were intense now, the playful, carefree vibe of a moment ago now replaced by a serious tone. She sat up straighter, putting the joint down for a second and staring him down. “You have something that a lot of people don’t, M/N. You’ve got range. You’ve got depth. And you—” She leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have the presence. I’ve seen it. And trust me, this is your chance.”

M/N met her eyes now, but the uncertainty was still in his. He let out a long, frustrated sigh, running his hands through his hair again. “You really think I could pull it off?” His voice cracked slightly, his usual bravado faltering. There it was—the vulnerability that only Odessa ever saw.

Odessa leaned back again, her smile returning, though it was softer this time. “I do. I know you can. And I haven’t even told you the best part yet.” She paused for a moment, giving him a knowing smile, before letting the suspense build.

M/N raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite himself. “What’s the best part?”

She grinned, leaning closer to him. “The cast. Specifically, one of the lead actors. Drew Starkey.”

The name hit him like a jolt of electricity. M/N’s eyes widened, his mind scrambling to put the pieces together. He’d seen Drew in a few films—that guy was hot. And not just physically. Drew had that quiet, effortless cool, that kind of unshakable confidence that made it impossible to ignore him when he was on screen. M/N didn’t talk about it much, but Drew Starkey was one of the few actors M/N had actually admired from a distance.

M/N shifted uncomfortably, the heat of the conversation making his already sweaty palms feel even worse. “Wait… Drew Starkey is gonna be in it?”

Odessa’s grin widened, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Yeah. And you’re gonna get to see him in person. Just imagine it—the chemistry between you two. It’ll be electric.”

M/N’s mind immediately started racing. The thought of being in a film with Drew, of sharing the screen with him, made his pulse quicken. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that level of attention or pressure, but the idea of working with someone like Drew was… well, it was thrilling. Could I really do this?

“Damn,” M/N muttered under his breath, the wheels turning in his head. He looked away for a moment, his mind already making up scenarios, wondering what it would be like to be next to Drew on set, what it would feel like to be in the same space as someone he admired so much. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for all that. Drew Starkey, man…”

Odessa chuckled, taking a long drag from her joint and blowing the smoke out slowly. “You’re more than ready, M/N. I told you, this could be your big break. Don’t let it slip away.”

M/N stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words pressing against his chest. He thought about what it would mean, what it would take. The pressure of living up to the role. The pressure of standing next to someone like Drew Starkey, someone who made everything look so effortless.

After a long silence, M/N finally sighed. “Fine. Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll audition.”

Odessa’s eyes lit up, her grin widening as she sat up in excitement. “Yes! I knew you’d get it.”

He ran a hand through his hair again, now feeling the excitement and anxiety bubbling in him all at once. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he added, with a cocky grin that was starting to make its way back into place. “If I fail, this is on you.”

Odessa just laughed, the sound ringing out through the room. “You won’t fail, trust me. Besides, I’ll take the blame. But you’re not gonna fail, M/N. You’re gonna own it.”

M/N nodded, a little more confident now. He took a long sip from his Modello and glanced at the door, his mind already racing with thoughts of the audition. The conversation shifted, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t just about acting anymore. This was about him.

And maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something even bigger than he’d imagined.

⸻

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

Yo. You’re not gonna believe this shit.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

LMAOOOO if this is about how you ate 5 hot wings in 5 seconds last night, I’m gonna lose my mind.

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

No, you psychotic fuck. I GOT THE ROLE.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

WAIT. HOLD ON.

Did you just say what I think you said??

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

I just got a call from the casting director. I’m gonna be fucking Pinhead. Like, Pinhead, Pinhead.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

M/N… M/N… YOU’RE FUCKING PINHEAD. THE FUCKING LEGEND. I CANNOT BREATHE.

I NEED A MINUTE.

I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT, YOU SEXY GOD.

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

Stop calling me a sexy god, I’m gonna get weird about it.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

Nope. You’re a SEXY GOD now, bitch. Just embrace it. I told you you had it in you. I’m gonna make you a crown to wear with that leather suit.

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

What the actual fuck is happening right now?

This isn’t real.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

It’s real. It’s SO real. But seriously, I am literally jumping up and down right now. You’re gonna be on the fucking big screen, you’re gonna be ICONIC.

Who knew Pinhead would be this hot?

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

Don’t make this weird. I already feel weird enough.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

It’s too late for that, my friend. You’re gonna be covered in prosthetics and I’m the one who gets to say, “I know that guy.”

Also, you better be prepared for all the ‘I’m a huge fan of your work’ comments from Drew Starkey, cause you know he’s gonna be all over you. 😏

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

Oh hell no. Please don’t say that. Drew Starkey’s gonna think I’m some freak.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

Said the guy who just got cast as a horror movie villain. I’m just saying. You two are gonna hit it off like a match made in creepy, beautiful hell.

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

Stop. I literally just got cast. I haven’t even met him yet. I’ve only seen him from a distance on set. Now I gotta actually talk to him?

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

I mean, yeah? You’re playing opposite him. But hey, maybe he likes a little mystery? Especially when you’re dressed like a satanic rockstar.

Modelo Addict 🤪🍻

Are we really having this conversation right now??

I feel like you’re setting me up to fail, Odessa.

Pussy Master 3000 🫡💪🏼👅

Nope. I’m setting you up for superstar status. Don’t fuck this up, or I’ll haunt your ass from across the country.

But seriously… you’re gonna kill it. I’m SO proud of you.

⸻

The set of Hellraiser was bustling with energy, filled with the chaos of makeup artists, crew members adjusting lights, and the ever-present hum of anticipation. The air was thick with the smell of latex and the low murmur of people discussing the next scene. M/N felt the excitement coursing through him, but also a heavy knot of nerves. He was about to step into the iconic role of Pinhead, and the pressure of filling such a legendary part weighed heavily on him. What if he couldn’t live up to the expectations? What if he wasn’t good enough?

But then, his eyes landed on Drew Starkey.

From across the set, M/N caught sight of him—him, the guy whose performances made M/N appreciate the craft in a way he never had before. Drew stood with his back to him, laughing at something one of the crew members said. Even from a distance, M/N could see the way his shoulders relaxed, his easy smile, the kind that could melt anyone in a five-mile radius. There was something about him—God, there was a lot about him—that had M/N both in awe and a little bit in lust.

Drew’s hair was shaved in a buzzcut that almost had M/N drooling. The black T-shirt clung to his body in a way that suggested he’d spent some time in the gym. The jeans… well, the jeans were perfectly fitted, making M/N’s eyes linger a little longer than necessary. Drew was effortlessly cool, like he didn’t care who noticed or who didn’t. It was the kind of charisma that just radiated off of him, pulling everyone in.

M/N caught himself staring a little longer than he should have, his heartbeat picking up pace. He forced himself to look away, mentally scolding himself. “Come on, get it together,” he muttered under his breath. He wasn’t here to gawk at Drew Starkey—no, he was here to work. He was about to be part of something huge, a reimagining of a horror classic. It wasn’t just about Drew, even if he did look like he had just stepped out of M/N’s very specific almost pornographic day dreams.

Still, it didn’t hurt to appreciate the view, right?

His eyes wandered back to Drew for just a second, this time a little more daring. Drew’s jawline was sharp, eyes gleaming with the glint of something mischievous, like he was always in on some secret that nobody else was privy to. His hands, rough and calloused, moved as he spoke, and M/N couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like to hold those hands.

He sighed to himself, a quiet, frustrated noise. The nerves, the attraction—great combo.

“Seriously, M/N, you good?” Odessa’s voice cut through the haze of thoughts running through his head. He flinched, his heart racing as if he’d been caught doing something embarrassing. Odessa, of course, was just now noticing the dazed expression on his face.

“Huh?” M/N blinked, forcing himself to snap out of his internal spiral. He tried to smile, hoping he hadn’t been caught drooling.

“You seem a little out of it. You okay?” Odessa raised an eyebrow, but her teasing tone suggested she was more amused than concerned.

M/N cleared his throat, his cheeks warm. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, shoving his hands into his pockets to avoid any telltale signs of his embarrassment. He casually turned his head, but Drew was still there, talking to someone across the set. The immediate temptation to go introduce himself was almost overwhelming.

“Well, come on,” Odessa said, dragging him away before he could even contemplate making a fool of himself. “Let’s go meet the team and see how everyone’s doing. Oh, and don’t stress about the role too much, you’re gonna kill it as Pinhead. You’re perfect for it.”

M/N smiled at her reassurance, though the nerves didn’t entirely go away. Pinhead was such an iconic role, one that had haunted people’s nightmares for decades. And here he was, about to embody the character himself. The idea of stepping into those shoes was both exhilarating and terrifying. But at least he had Odessa’s support—she believed in him, even when he had his doubts.

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, trying to keep his focus. But as they walked past Drew’s direction again, his eyes flickered back over to the man, taking in his broad shoulders and that lazy, confident grin. He was so goddamn attractive, M/N thought, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a groan.

“By the way,” Odessa added, “You’ve got to meet Drew. He’s a cool guy, and I know you two would get along. You’d hit it off.”

M/N chuckled nervously. “Right. Sure. I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t? He’s, uh—he’s Drew Starkey.” He didn’t even need to finish the sentence. They both knew what Drew was—an undeniable presence. He was the guy in the industry right now.

“Well, he’s been asking about you,” Odessa continued, clearly oblivious to the way M/N’s heartbeat seemed to double at her words. “He’s kind of excited to meet you. I told him you were perfect for the role.”

M/N was trying to hide the fact that his face had gone slightly red, his fingers itching at his sides. Drew had heard of him? That was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Before he could answer, Odessa led him off toward the set, his eyes involuntarily trailing Drew as he walked. This was really happening. Drew Starkey would soon know who M/N was. And M/N… well, he couldn’t decide if he was more nervous or excited about that.

But all he knew was that the day he met Drew was one he’d remember for the rest of his life.

———

Filming Hellraiser was a strange experience for Drew Starkey. The set was drenched in fake blood, eerie lighting, and enough unsettling sound effects to make anyone’s skin crawl. But the weirdest part? Having a casual conversation about someone’s friend while filming a sex scene.

The sex scene was in full swing. Odessa, playing her part with a sultry confidence, had just finished a take when she lounged against the elaborate bed setup, catching her breath. Drew, still in character from his adjacent scene, paused in the background. As the crew began repositioning lights, Odessa, ever the blunt friend, leaned toward Drew and said with a mischievous smirk, “You know, you’d hit it off with my friend M/N.”

Drew arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with incredulity even as he delivered his lines for the next shot. “You’re seriously telling me about a friend of yours while we’re in the middle of filming a sex scene?” he replied dryly, half-amused, half-baffled.

He scoffed, running a hand through his shaved buzz. “Jesus. And why exactly would I hit it off with this guy?”

“Because he’s funny, a little weird, and he can handle sarcasm, which—let’s be real—you need,” she teased, pointing at him. “Oh, and he’s Pinhead.”

Drew blinked. “Wait. What?”

Odessa smirked. “Yeah. M/N’s playing Pinhead.”

Drew leaned back against the pillows, processing this. “The dude in prosthetics? With the pins in his skull? The one who literally looks like a nightmare demon?”

“Yep.”

“Huh.” He thought about it for a second, then shrugged. “Alright. Maybe I’ll say hi before he drags me to hell.”

���

For weeks, Drew only saw M/N in full costume. Every time he caught a glimpse, it was the same eerie figure—leather-clad, ghostly pale, unsettling as hell. They’d exchanged some playful banter between takes, but he had no idea what M/N actually looked like under all that.

Then, one afternoon, everything changed.

Drew was heading toward his trailer when he passed by one of the makeup removal stations. He almost didn’t recognize him at first—the guy wiping black and red makeup off his face, dressed in grungy, oversized clothes, an old band tee hanging loosely over sweatpants. His hair was messy, a few strands falling over his forehead as he dragged a baby wipe down his jaw.

And Drew? Damn near lost his mind.

He stopped in his tracks, blinking hard. “Holy shit.”

M/N glanced up, raising a brow. “What?”

Drew’s mouth opened, then closed. He had no words. Absolutely none. How the fuck had no one warned him about this?

M/N, completely oblivious to Drew’s mental breakdown, crumpled up the baby wipe and tossed it in the trash. “Didn’t recognize me, did you?”

Drew cleared his throat, forcing himself to not look too long at M/N’s exposed collarbone. “Not even a little.”

M/N smirked. “Yeah, well. Hard to be hot when you’re a literal hell priest.”

Drew muttered under his breath, “Debatable.”

M/N paused. “What?”

“Nothing.” Absolutely nothing.

M/N just laughed, stretching his arms over his head, revealing the faintest hint of a V-line above the waistband of his sweats. Drew physically looked away before he lost whatever grip on sanity he had left.

This was not what he had expected. At all.

⸻

Drew spent the next few days trying to get a grip.

M/N was too easy to be around—sarcastic, sharp, quick-witted in a way that kept Drew on his toes. And now that he knew what he actually looked like? Game over.

The only thing he didn’t know? That M/N had been crushing on him for years.

One night, after a long shoot, they found themselves alone outside the trailers, beers in hand.

M/N leaned against the railing, looking up at the sky. “You know… when Odessa told me to audition, I kind of jumped at it.”

Drew glanced over. “Oh yeah?”

M/N smirked. “Yeah. Because I already knew you were casted.”

Drew paused, processing that. “Wait. You knew me before this?”

M/N chuckled. “Saw one of your short films with Rudy. Thought you were good. Thought you were hot.”

Drew nearly choked on his drink. “Excuse me?”

M/N gave him a lazy grin. “What? You’re not the only one with eyes, Starkey.”

Drew huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ. And here I was, struggling to act normal around you.”

M/N raised a brow. “You? Struggling?”

Drew leaned in slightly, his voice lower now. “You have no idea.”

And just like that, the teasing, the glances, the tension that had been building for weeks finally snapped.

Drew smirked. “So… you gonna do something about it, Hell Priest?”

M/N just grinned. “What do you think?”

—

lol insert another lol piece of notebook paper mane, 2 in one day bro? Everybody mf JUMP!!! No but fr I’ve been on my Drew Starkey shit so don’t mind me lmk if y’all liked it it what

[yawnzshit]

my cutesy patootie ☝️ i'm so proud of him 🥺

[hopelessmidwesterner]

Behind the Scenes

Drew Starkey x AFAB Reader

swearing, allusions to sex (minors DNI, 18+!!), themes of anxiety, alcohol use, reader is a PA for an entertainment magazine/publication and she's chronically offline, use of Y/N, lotta awkwardness, i think that's it???

2.5k words (holy shit this got away from me)

(very VERY loosely inspired by the fact that Drew follows/hopefully listens to Fleet Foxes lmfao)

You have a one night stand with some guy you meet at a concert. Thinking nothing of it, you leave and go to work for a high stakes shoot. What happens when he shows up as the main attraction, though?

7:54 A.M.

Mourning doves crowed, the noise poking through the fog of your mind that felt thicker than glue as you teetered between sleep and consciousness. Your head was killing you and the mere sight of the sun that snuck its way past the curtains only made it worse. Fuck, you were hungover on a weekday of all days.

Way to fucking go, Y/N. You couldn’t even remember most of last night. Not anything past 9:00 P.M., anyway. You certainly couldn’t recall coming home. 

Wait a minute. Home. 

Your eyes shot open despite the amount of utter agony it caused and you scanned the room. The room that definitely was not your own. Great. You’d gone home with someone, too. At least I got laid, you thought as you took in the scenery around you. You remembered meeting a guy at the concert very vaguely but the memories stopped there and you were trying (but failing) to spark something based on his bedroom.

The room was unassuming and what you’d expect from a guy around your age. The walls were painted a royal blue and they were dressed minimally with an array of posters and similar decor. The posters were from movies you’d never heard of (Films that appeared to be about war and lewd comedy. The two basic genres of “man movies”.) and bands that took you by surprise. You’d expected hard rock or 80s glam.

That was your usual type of guy, metalheads that didn’t know the meaning of the word commitment, but quite the opposite was present here. Pictures of Fleet Foxes, The Avett Brothers, Tom Petty, Joni Mitchell, and The Band surrounded you while you sat up on your elbows with deepened confusion. 

You’d slept with a guy who liked folk? Really? He had to be some granola, hippie looking motherfucker…right?

A gravelly rumble of a noise buzzed from beside you and your gaze finally flicked over to the man in question. You’d never seen him before but Los Angeles was a huge city, to be fair. His hair was buzzed, something you’d never quite been into but it worked on him really well. You stared at him for a moment then another, watching as he slept with his face squished into his pillow. He was far too close to you for your liking considering you didn’t even know his name so you wiggled away just in time for your phone to vibrate from under your own pillow. You froze with horror but he didn’t move. Hell, he didn’t even stir. Sighing from relief, you plucked the device up rather haphazardly but your breath caught in your throat when you saw the time of 8:00 A.M. 

Fuck, you were late.

Frantically but with stealth, you scrambled out of bed and found your clothes from the night before. It was a leather skirt, a white turtleneck, tights, and a pair of Mary Jane’s (well, the tights were ripped right at the crotch but that’s neither here nor there). You hoped to God your car was outside since you kept a spare outfit in there and you stumbled out of this guy’s room with a last minute swipe to your purse.

Once you tripped and cursed your way through a long, dimly lit hall and down some rather extravagant looking stairs, you found the front door of the house in an echo-y foyer and shoved your way outside. The place itself was huge and that was even more prominent from the outside. It was a towering condo in a development that was much nicer than the neighborhood you lived in. Perfect bushes, green grass, cars way above your paygrade. The sight of your dinky car beside his own, sleek looking Bronco was comical but it filled you with utter joy. 

Thank the goddamn stars. 

9:01 A.M.

Somehow, you made it to work only five minutes past call time. That was mostly because that guy lived near Beverly Hills so the drive was only around twelve minutes rather than the usual thirty.

Maybe you should’ve taken bigger advantage of the fact that you slept with a rich dude but you’d never been that sort of person and today you had much bigger fish to fry. Some A list actor was the subject in question for this morning’s shoot and everyone was acting like a chicken with their head cut off. The producer, the cameramen, the creative director, the interns, the sound operator. You had no clue why but it helped your case since everyone was too panicked to scold you for your tardiness.

You’d never even heard the name before this shoot popped onto your schedule a few weeks before so you were cool as a cucumber as you took the crew’s coffee orders and moved a few light stands. The other PA on set, Jazmine, filled you in on the actor in question while you both tidied up the hair and makeup room in preparation. 

“Oh come on Y/N. You’ve seen him before.” She insisted while restocking the snack bin in the room’s far corner. You shook your head and laughed, clueless as ever. 

“Nope. I’ve never even heard of him.” Jazmine stared at you like you’d grown a pair of horns but it didn’t bother you, you were used to such a reaction. It was just another day at work for you and it’s not like being a PA was your dream. You wanted to write and direct but alas, it was impossible to get your foot in that kind of door even with the background you had so you were sort of stuck. Eventually, the walkie on your hip buzzed and she froze as the voice of the receptionist up front droned through the room. 

“Reception to Y/N. Mr. Starkey and his agent are here.” You scoffed at Jazmine, lifting the device to your mouth as you began to make your way back from set and to the main thrum of the office. She grimaced whereas you gave a shit eating smirk, reveling in it just a little bit. 

“Heard. Be there in two.” 

You made it to the front desk in less than that, clipboard in hand while you internally gave yourself a motivational speech. Sure, you had no clue who this Drew Starkey guy really was but he was clearly a big deal and you could not fuck this up. You were also naturally on the shy side which wasn’t a wanted trait in this business. Double whammy. 

Don’t be awkward. For the love of God please don’t say anything dumb. Jesus, you should’ve done your research last night instead of getting shitfaced at the concert. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

“Hi! You must be Sharron and Drew!” You addressed the agent first since the actor, Drew, was mingling around in the corner with one of the office interns. His back was to you but you usually avoided eye contact with strangers since it made you queasy, anyway. 

“Yes, hi!” Sharron shook your hand with a firm grip and you watched Drew turn around in your peripheral, stalking towards the two of you.

“My name is Y/N, welcome! I’ll bring you guys back to set but uh I’m a PA so if you need anything at all just give me a holler.” You put on your best customer service smile and turned to greet Drew like you’d done with Sharron but then your heart stopped beating. At least, it felt that way. 

Drew was familiar. His blue eyes were the color of the sea, staring deep into you in a manner that made your stomach do cartwheels and extravagant backflips while he stuck his hand out halfway. 

Oh my fuck. Drew was the guy. The guy you’d fucking slept with last night. The guy whose bed you woke up in this morning. This wasn’t happening. No way. It couldn’t be. 

“H…hi.” He stammered. He clearly recognized you back and you grimaced but recovered quickly. Maybe if you feigned oblivion then he’d think the same. 

“Hi.” You shook his hand much quicker than you had Sharron’s then whipped around, counting your breaths to make sure you weren’t dying. 

“You guys can um…follow me this way.” 

11:48 A.M.

Drew was off his game for a while. You gaslit yourself into thinking he was just an awkward guy but from Sharron’s constant mutterings to him about if he got enough sleep last night to Jazmine’s gossip about how he seemed anxious, it was difficult to keep doing that.

You figured he slept around a lot so this shouldn’t have been anything particularly nerve wracking for a hot shot bachelor of his caliber but the proof was in the pudding. He seemed to be staring at you every single time you grew the courage to glance his way, even throughout the interview itself when he was on camera, and it made you want to crawl out of your skin. He looked at you weirdly, like he was trying to get a read on you instead of simply looking to see if it was actually you or an insane doppelganger.

This was worse than any walk of shame you’d ever done (which wasn’t many, to be frank) and in turn, you busied yourself like the most annoying of workaholics throughout the entire shoot. Water refills, emptying trash cans, you name it and you were doing it like an irritating bee that never stopped buzzing around so you wouldn’t lose your mind over this. 

Once the shoot was over, you threw Jazmine a bone and let her take the wheel with Drew and Sharon while you cleaned up the leftover equipment and coffee cups that were scattered about. Anything to keep you away from him. He wasn’t scary by any means but this situation was beyond unprofessional and it could very well cost you your job if you handled it poorly.

“What’s got you so on edge?” Jazmine teased you once you both finished up. The set was cleared of people by this point and there wasn’t much left to do aside from locking up. You shrugged, not daring to even open your mouth about this. 

“Just one of those days, I guess.” You said with a quick flip to the lights. The entire studio went dark and you both cautiously made your way to the main door. You felt relieved now that he was gone and you’d survived it but that anxiety lingered. What if he told someone like his agent or your boss? It’d be doomsday. 

“Well, at least the day’s over! You wanna grab lunch or something? We could try that new cafe place down in Glendale or…” She began to ramble about the possibilities while you spilled into the hallway. You half listened and half sorted through the array of keys in your possession but then a voice called out to you and they fell to the ground because of your newfound shakiness. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Drew was still here. Not only was he here but he was jogging towards you after seemingly waiting around at the end of the corridor with Sharron.

Oh my fucking god.

You froze even once he was knelt down and picked the keys up for you, unsure if you should run or just turn to dust right before him. Jazmine watched and eavesdropped, taking deliberate steps away to give you guys space. She was confused but intrigued.

“Thanks.” You murmured once he pressed them into your palm. He nodded, watching you quizzically while you turned away from him to lock the door. 

“Don’t sweat it. I uh…I just kinda wanted to wait around so I could talk to you.”

“Talk to me about what?” Play dumb, play dumb, play dumb. He scoffed and nervously teetered his weight from foot to foot like he was struggling to find the right words. Only when you met his gaze again did he speak. 

“Well…several things but I guess first and foremost…the pair of hoop earrings on my nightstand? And the pair of tights I owe you?” He whispered it so nobody else, not even Jazmine, would hear but that didn’t stop you from turning beet red. He didn’t mention your embarrassment, taking a route that was more casual since being a flirt (like last night) would most likely turn you into a worried puddle. 

“So um…” He cleared his throat, gesturing towards Jazmine with a grin that turned her insides into mush. “Maybe we could talk about that over lunch? Unless…you two have plans already or something?” You went to say yes, that you did in fact have plans, but Jazmine and her big fucking mouth jumped on things first. 

“Oh, she’s got her whole afternoon free. Go ahead.” She winked at you, thinking she was being your wingwoman, and flaunted away with the wrongest of all wrong ideas in her mind. 

Could this day get any worse? 

“You don’t have much of an out now, do you?” He smirked and you started to recognize the subtle charm he had now that you were alone. It was probably what even got you to talk to him in the first place. 

“Guess not but uh…you don’t have to replace my tights or do…this.” You pointed between the two of you but his cheeky smile never faded. It bloomed, in fact. 

“Well what if I want to do this? I think it’s only fair since I made you a nervous wreck all shoot, huh?”

“You didn’t make me a–”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, sure…Are you in or do you want me to fuck off? Be honest.”

A moment of furthered awkwardness wavered in the air but you took the time to think. To actually think not just about the bad potential consequences of your actions but also the good. There must’ve been a reason you went home with him last night, something you didn’t do much. 

“Fine…Watch yourself, though.” He flashed a mouth of pearls as if he’d just won the lottery and he held his hands up in a mock-surrender. 

“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.” 

You scowled but led the way, already rethinking your answer. This guy better not be a disappointment, you thought. But something, you weren’t sure what, told you that that shouldn’t have been a worry at all.

You were in deep already and you didn’t even fucking know it. 

[userboygenius]

Odessa A'zion in HELLRAISER (2022), directed by David Bruckner.

[commander-revan]

My boy may look like a cenobite right now, but he's still the hottest man in this manga.