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physalian · 5 months

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10 More Character Types the World Needs More of

Part 1 was specifically character dynamics, but I’m considering this a sequel anyway.

1. Fiercely independent character’s lesson isn’t to “trust people”

I’m not projecting. You’re projecting. There is a divide wide enough to fit the Grand Canyon between “trusting that someone isn’t lying” and “trusting someone to follow through on a promise”. Most dumpster fire attempts at these characters (almost exclusively women) rely solely on mocking them for the former because “not all men” or something.

Being consistently let down in life makes you hesitant to a) gain friends, b) pursue romantic interests, c) maintain familial relationships, d) get excited about any event that demands participation from someone who isn’t you. None of this is simply a bad attitude—it’s a trauma response. There is no lesson to be learned, and not even exposure therapy can help because it’s a real, legitimate, and common stunt people pull, whether they mean it or not.

So write one of these characters and legitimize their fears, give them someone who proves the exception to the rule, but do not let the lesson be “well they just haven’t found the right person yet”. Even the “right person” can let them down. It's about not becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy by sabotaging a good thing to prove it will inevitably go bad.

2. Conventionally attractive men who aren’t horndogs

I’m going to find every way I can to tell you to write more aces. This is to fight the stigma that attractive people must be attracted to people. Give me gorgeous aces and demi’s, men, women, enbys and everyone in between, who put a crap ton of effort into looking their best, and yet happen to not have a very loud libido. They look good for themselves, and not to impress anyone else.

Give me someone who could have anyone they wanted, gender regardless, and just simply has no interest. Or, they do actually have a significant other, but sex, how hot their partner is, or how horny they are, isn’t their internal monologue. I don’t even care if it’s unrealistic, it’s annoying to read.

And, you know, giving men male characters who aren’t thinking about sex all the time can be good, right? Right?

3. Manly warrior men who also write poetry

A.K.A Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. Just give me more Aragorns, period. This dude is either covered in filth, blood, guts, and the last 30 miles of rugged terrain, or singing in Elvish at his own coronation while pink flower petals fall. A man can be both, and still be straight.

A man can also drink Respect Women juice, you know? He ticks off all the boxes—he’s gentle when he needs to be, not afraid to hide his emotions, kind to those who are vulnerable and afraid and need a strong figure to look up to, resolute in his beliefs, skilled and knowledgeable in his abilities without being arrogant or smug, and the first boots on the battlefield, leading from the front.

4. Characters who are characters when no one is watching

This is less a specific type and more a scene that doesn’t get written enough. This whole point comes from Pixar’s Cars. I. Love. This. Movie. It’s not Pixar’s best, for sure, but this is my comfort movie. The best scene, one that’s so unique, is when Doc (aged living legend) thinks he’s alone when he rolls out onto the dirt race track and comes alive tearing around the oval.

This character’s unbridled, unabashed glee and euphoria at proving to himself that he’s still got it, when he’s completely unaware of his audience, is perfection. Not enough credence is given to characters to just… enjoy being themselves. He’s not doing it to prepare for the climactic race, he’s not doing it for the plot, he’s doing it just to do it, not even to prove Lightning wrong—just for himself.

Give your characters a “Doc Racing” scene. Whatever their skill is. Maybe they’re a dancer, a skater, a swimmer, a painter, sprinter. Just let your character love being alive.

5. Characters whose neurodivergence isn't “cute”

A.K.A. Lilo Pelekai from Lilo and Stitch. Really, her relationship with Nani is peak sibling writing. But Lilo herself is just so realistic with how she interacts with the world, how she interprets her relationships with her so-called friends, how she organizes her thoughts and rationalizes what she can’t quite understand, and how friggen smart she is for an… 11-year-old?

But she’s not “cute”. As in, she wasn’t written by generic Suits who were trying to cash in on the ND crowd by writing what they think will sell, but also making her juuust neurotypical enough to still be palatable by the rest of the audience. Lilo’s earnestness is what endears her to everybody. But also, she doesn’t get a free pass for her behavior, either. Her “friends” aren’t forced to accommodate her and Nani isn’t written as the cold-hearted villain for trying to discipline her.

6. Straight male characters with female friends

Am I double-dipping a bit here? Yes. While I completely understand how tempting it can be, this type of character is in dire need of exposure and representation to prove it’s possible. No weird tense moments, no double-glances when she isn’t looking, no contemplations about cheating on his girlfriend (and no insecure jealous girlfriend either). Just two characters who enjoy each other’s company and are able to coexist in a space and be in each other’s spaces without hormones getting in the way. Peak example? Po and Tigress from Kung Fu Panda.

Let these two rely on each other for emotional strength in times of need, let them share inside jokes, let them have a night alone together at a bar, at home, cooking dinner, getting takeout, talking on the patio in a porch swing… with zero “will they/won’t they.”

7. The likable bigot

I’m actually on the fence with this one but it’s something I also don’t see done often enough and I’m adding it for one reason: Bigots aren’t always obvious mustache-twirling villains and the little things they do might seem inconsequential to them, but are still hurtful. So showing these characters is like plopping a mirror down in front of these people and, I don’t know, maybe something will click. They don’t have to be MAGAs to be dangerous, and only writing the extremes convinces the moderates that they aren’t also the problem.

Example: I have a “friend” who recently said something along the lines of “I have lots of gay friends” followed up shortly by “I don’t think this country should keep gay marriage because it’s a slippery slope to legalizing pedophilia.” You know. The quiet part being that she *actually* thinks being gay is as morally abhorrent as being a pedo. But she totally has lots of gay friends. Including one who was driving her during that conversation. (It’s me. Hi. I’m apparently the problem, it’s me.)

She’s absolutely homophobic, but the second she stops announcing it, she’s a very bubbly person. She’s a ~likable~ bigot and thus thinks she can distance herself from the more violent ones.

8. The motherly single father

I say “motherly” merely as shorthand for the vibe I’m going for here. “Motherly” as in dads who aren’t scandalized by the growing pains of their daughters, and who don’t just parent their sons by saying “man up boys don’t cry”. Dads who play Barbie with their kids of either gender. Dads who go to the PTA meetings with all the other Karens and know as much if not more than they do about the school and their kids’ education.

Dads who comfort their crying kids, especially their sons. Dads that take interest in “feminine” activities like learning how to braid their daughter’s hair, learning different makeup brands, going on nail salon trips together. Dads who do not pull out the rifle on their daughter’s new boyfriend and treat her like property. Dads who have guy friends that don’t mock him and call him gay. Dad who does all this stuff anyway and is *actually* gay, too, but the emphasis is on overly sensitive straight men’s masculinity here.

Wholesome dads: a shocking amount of single-parents to female anime protagonists.

9. The parent isn’t dead, they’re just gone

Treasure Planet is an awesome movie in its own right, but what’s even better? This is a Disney movie where the parent isn’t dead, he’s just a deadbeat who abandoned his son and isn’t at all relevant to the plot beyond the hole he left behind for Jim to fill. The only deadbeat dads Disney allows are villains and those guys are very vigorously chasing an aspiration, that aspiration just doesn’t include quality fatherhood. Or motherhood. Disney has yet to write a deadbeat mom, I’m almost certain.

I just wrote a post about the necessity of the “dead parent” cliche, but what is perhaps more relatable because it’s more common, and what earns even more sympathy and underdog points for the protagonist? The hero with the parent who left. Then there’s a whole extra layer of angst and trauma available when your hero can now plague themselves with the question of if the parent leaving is their fault. Death is usually an accident. Choosing to abandon your kid is on purpose.

10. Victim who isn’t victim-blamed or told by their friends (and the narrative) to forgive their abuser

Izuku Midoriya lost so much support from me the moment he told his friend, bearing the consequences of domestic violence across half his face, that Midoriya thinks he’ll be ready soon to forgive his abomination of a father. I am firmly in the “Endeavor is a despicable human and hero” camp and no I’m not taking criticism. I audibly gasped when I heard this line and realized Deku was serious. Todoroki needs friends like the Gaang to remind him that he's allowed to hate the man who's actions caused the burn scar across his f*cking face.

I understand that the mangaka apparently didn’t anticipate the vitriolic backlash toward Endeavor during his debut and reveal of his parenting tactics but the tone-deafness of telling a fifteen year old with crippling emotional management issues and a horrible home life that his abusive dad in any way deserves and is entitled to forgiveness on the grounds of being related is disgusting.

Take it back further to a more famous Tumblr dad: John Winchester. Another despicable human who got retroactively forgiven by his sons after his death in a “he wasn’t so bad, he really did try” campaign. It’s one thing if the character believes it, it’s a whole different matter if the narrative is also pushing this message.

Katara is a perfect example: She lets go of her grudge for her own peace of mind and stops blaming Zuko for something he had no hand in, stops blaming him simply because he’s a firebender and he’s around to be her punching bag. She doesn’t forgive the man who killed her mother, because that man doesn’t deserve her forgiveness. Katara heals in spite of him, not because of him, and had she let him off the hook, she would have gotten an apology for getting caught, not for what he did (which is exactly what happened).

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #character design #character development #aragorn #pixar cars #kung fu panda #lilo and stitch #treasure planet #atla #katara #my hero academia

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qingxin-dream · 1 year

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“The Afterparty”

summary | lyney is the face of fontaine’s entertainment industry, stealing hearts with every flourish of his magic. however, in the night, lyney tends to entertain a different kind of crowd.

warnings | written pre-4.0, ooc lyney, light yandere themes (stalking/manipulation/obsession), a sprinkle of smut (creampie/implied dubcon) [18+, MDNI], brief mention of drugs/alcohol, reader is neutral but wears a dress, lyney uses a little french

genre | yandere, slight smut

word count | 1.6k

pairing | lyney x reader

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It’s no mystery that the Great Magician of Fontaine is a man of many talents. His shows are famous across Teyvat for their grandeur and flare. Beautiful venues draped in red curtains frame the scene before a sea of velvety theater seats, skilled acrobats maneuver themselves among rings suspended in the air. Blazes of fire erupt from the stage dramatically. A master of misdirection, the audience falls for his tricks every time as he effortlessly makes the impossible possible.

Lyney is incredibly perceptive. He knows how to read people, as a showman can read his audience, a small smug smile crinkling the corner of his eyes if you’re paying attention. It’s an art form—the way he flips through the pages of your soul, licking his fingers to reveal the next juicy detail with ease. Rarely ever does anyone truly surprise someone as cynical as him, who has been personally privy to the vile nature of the Fatui.

A life of fame is never kind to anyone. The planning and training for shows is incredibly rigorous. Executing the stunts in front of a live audience is equally thrilling and terrifying. Without fail, the crowd is mesmerized and the show ends in a shower of roses and marriage proposals. Rinse and repeat. Though, this is only what Lyney allows the public to know of him.

It’s after hours, when the theater is empty and the stage is dim, when the mask begins to slip.

Lyney is the lead, the star, and as such he maintains his appearance by rubbing elbows with the elite of Fontaine. You’d never catch him amid the nightlife of the city, no. You wouldn’t believe the sheer grandeur of the dazzling, flamboyant parties thrown every night at the country’s largest mansions.

It was Arlecchino who insisted that he attends these lavish parties, rampant with the city’s darkest vices between drugs, alcohol, and sex. But Lyney is a cynical man, so this much is to be expected of wealthy aristocrats.

It was all a façade, couldn’t they see? It sickened him, how gullible people were and how obsessed they were with status. Not to mention the inevitable hordes of women who threw themselves at him.

Nevertheless, Lyney played the game well and with a bewitching, handsome smile. Eventually he had learned to take pleasure in this little game.

As fate would have it, you let your friend convince you to crash one of these extravagant parties with them. You had heard whispers of what takes place at night behind the golden gates of Fontaine’s richest residences. Why wouldn’t you want to have a taste of the finest wine, dressed in designer, getting lost in the magnificent corridors of a packed mansion of partygoers?

It’s something straight from the movies.

You emerged from the bushes to sneak inside, which wasn’t that difficult surprisingly. You wore your best dress, not knowing what to expect. It was a floor length, silky black dress with a sexy slit that traveled all the way up to your mid-thigh. You had a lovely string of pearls dangling from your pretty neck. A classic choice.

Unfortunately for you, Lyney is a man who is extremely attentive to his surroundings. After all, an illusionist must be a master of his environment as well. The moment he spots you, a mere reflection of something new and fascinating for him to discover, he gravitates to you smoothly.

“Mm, I don’t believe we’ve met,” his voice is an alluring, a well-practiced approach. Before you could even answer, Lyney had already taken note of your little mannerisms and nuances just in these few passing moments. He had already adjusted the figurative mirrors of misdirection in this little trick, assuring your undivided attention.

You glance to your friend, who isn’t there. Oh. You had been cornered without even the opportunity to explore the party.

More of a wallflower type, you found yourself struggling to conjure up a confident answer. You were acutely aware of who this gentleman is, and his egotistical demeanor was already a huge turn off.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know who I am,” he chuckled lightheartedly, yet there was a peculiar undertone hidden beneath. It was hard to place. He kisses your hand. “Lyney, the Great Magician.”

You withdrew your hand, unable to hide the way your eyebrows crinkled together with disinterest. Perhaps you should’ve been more prepared for these guests to be more brazen and unapologetic when they see something—or someone—they want.

Taking no for an answer is not even in the realm of possibility for these people.

The party continued on, gorgeous partygoers dancing and drinking to their heart’s content. All the while, Lyney kept his eyes trained on you. It wasn’t necessarily out of admiration; rather, it was curiosity. Why didn’t you bat your eyelashes at him like a good girl? Bite your lip when he kissed your hand?

He followed you like a ghost, slinking through the crowd tactfully to observe you. You were a rare creature indeed. None of the other women could hold a candle to you. Archons, he felt this unsettling churning in his stomach everyone your glimmering irises met his. His heart would tense instantaneously, threatening to explode within his chest.

You saw through Lyney from the moment he kissed your hand, and he hated it.

Through the night, you both danced this delicate tango around the massive mansion, a palpable tension tethering him to you. He was equally appalled and fascinated by you, never wasting any opportunity to slip in an innocent question or two to learn about you.

“A beautiful lady like you in a place like this… Do you feel lost in Wonderland yet, Alice?” Lyney had persuaded you to follow him to an unoccupied balcony, closing the French doors behind him.

He stalks toward you, his soft lavender irises cool and calculated. In an ashy flourish of embers, a deck of onyx cards materialized in his gloved hands. It had taken all evening, but just enough wine had passed beyond your lips to give Lyney the opportunity to disarm you.

“Not scared of a little fire, are you, love?” His voice was warm and inviting as a hearth, though it held a hint of mischief like that of a crackling inferno. Each mysterious card in his hand is shuffled with a distinct flick.

You were much more susceptible to his charm now more than ever, allowing him to weave glittering silk strands of harmless sweet nothings to entice you. Had you taken a step back, you would’ve seen the web for what it is. The grand reveal was imminent.

“Now, now, don’t fret. I won’t let anything harm you, chérie,” Lyney chuckles lightheartedly, as if he hadn’t been playing and pawing at you like a cat ready to pounce all night.

Your poor little breath hitched at every whisper and touch he gifted you. It started by fatefully picking the Queen of Hearts from his custom deck of cards. You should’ve known better. Maybe you should’ve picked the one next to it. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

Lyney’s lilac eyes spark with intrigue at your choice. How fitting. Had you paid any attention to the magician’s sneaky maneuvers, you would have seen that every card in the deck was from the suite of Hearts.

The illusion of choice.

He takes this as an opportunity to step closer, his hands reaching forward. Your chest is beating wildly, begging for relief from how he intoxicates you with just a flutter of his long lashes.

Lyney rests his hands on the marble railing on either side of your hips, drinking in your anticipation, your fear, and your desire. A small, smug smirk pulls at the corner of his pretty lips. He takes the liberty of helping you meet his gaze by bringing his wrist to his mouth, white teeth tugging to remove his glove. Your body feels weightless when he lifts your chin with his bare index finger and thumb.

The Great Magician would argue that he took extreme precautions to ensure the success of this escapade. It was all carefully calculated and orchestrated according to his whim. He had you exactly where he wanted you, blissfully unaware of how deep these exhilarating feelings for you had rooted themselves into his guarded heart.

“Do you feel the magic in my fingertips? Hehe, tonight’s show will be a private event for only for you, mon trésor.”

The night was a blur. Fading in and out of consciousness, one moment you were dancing with him in empty halls and the next you were enveloped in his embrace against a wall. Lyney would pin your hands above your head before pushing you onto the bed, catapulting you into his next breathtaking trick like one of the acrobats in his show.

The silhouettes of your frames were shadowed in the moonlight that bathed the sheets in silver. Lyney skillfully unzipped your dress. Clothes fell to the wayside, vanishing in a flourish of passion. There was no denying it. He had to have you, and you were such a willing participant in his performance.

Of course, the wealthy partygoers were none the wiser, the echoes of pleasure the Great Magician was able to rip from your lungs were easily deafened by the music of their own opulent fantasies.

What is a magician if not an artist who must mark what is rightfully his—painting your womb with a decadent display, a growl escaping his throat.

However, Lyney is a perfectionist. When he catches a glimpse of his seed spilling out of you, he is quick to stuff his slender fingers into your overstimulated hole and seal the masterpiece with a final kiss on your bruised lips.

“Magnifique…” ❤️

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.

#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin yandere #genshin smut #genshin lyney #lyney x reader #yandere lyney #lyney smut

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themultifanshipper · 3 months

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hello it's me again! requesting for the 2nd time for a Sebastian Vettel fic (I'm horrendously down bad for this man🙇‍♀️) could you please do Rb!Seb x Button!reader because I'm a sucker for brother's best friend trope. Jenson invites Seb over after a night out of partying and he stays there for a couple of days. Seb has a couple of small interactions with reader mostly Jenson stepping in which it doesn't lead into something more lol. so here's the juicy part reader accidentally walks in on Seb taking a bath and like she's so embarrassed she decides to( lock herself in her room even Jenson was concerned. Seb decides to talk to reader alone in her room and it leads to them passionately making out so they have their little "we shouldn't be doing this" "your brother doesn't have to know" moment LOL and they uh do it ig.

this is awkward to even ask for I feel like squidward begging for change in that one ep 😭 like I feel so GUILTY LMAO but anyways please don't rush yourself into writing this please do it in your own pace I really don't mind waiting 🫶 I also would like to say how much I adore your writing and the effort you put into your work so I understand if it takes a while to write all of this down. Don't forget to take yourself as well while you're writing 🩷🩷 -🐇

You had seen Seb in a number of embarrassing situations and positions, him being your brother’s best friend ever since he joined F1, but this was definitely the first time you had seen him quite this naked.

Warnings: Uhhhhhh… I don’t know what came over me I’ll be honest, Seb is super dominant in this one guys, like… overstimulation, praise kink, degrading a bit? Slapping? I need to be waterboarded in holy water at this point, I fear… the dialogue is cringe enough to make me question my worth as a person (this was written at 3 am)also I think I overused the word princess but oh well

Jenson and Seb were partying for a few days to wind down during winter break after an intense season, and you partied with them. You were much younger than your brother, he was in his early 30s and you only 21, so you were technically closer to Seb’s age, which led to a friendship blossoming between the two of you. You’d been on numerous trips and holidays with the pair of them, and you’d been to a fair few races to cheer them on.

Of course with the proximity and the similar ages, Jenson was terrified that Seb would try something with you, and he threatened him several times over the course of their friendship. Him being so much older than you meant he was extremely protective, sometimes bordering on overbearing. And you noticed that as you got older, Jenson rarely left you and Seb alone in the same room for more than 5 minutes without checking in on whether you “needed a drink” or “have you seen my charger? I swear I left it near your stuff could you please look for me thanks” …

This particular weekend had been quite intense, the three of you going out several nights in a row, and you finally managed to get some alone time in the peace and quiet of your brother’s house while the boys went to pick up some pizza for dinner before you all went out again afterward.

Which is why you were so shocked when you opened the bathroom door to pee and got an eyeful of Seb in the bath, very naked, and with the way his hand flew out of the water (splashing half the room in the process) you were pretty sure he had just been caught touching himself. You had caught him. Touching himself. In the bath. Naked. In the bath naked, touching himself. In your bathroom. You had caught him touching himself in your bathroom, in the bath. Naked.

It took you a few seconds to absorb the situation before you shouted “Oh my god! I am so sorry!” and covered your eyes (about 30 seconds too late but it’s the thought that counts!) before backing out and shutting the door, ignoring Seb’s yells about it being his fault for not locking the door.

You hightailed it straight to your bedroom and slammed the door, locked it, and slid to the floor, with your head in your hands.

…

Seb’s dick.

…

That’s the only thought your mind could conjure up for the next several minutes. You didn’t even get a great look at it, being more entranced by the blush quickly spreading down Seb’s neck and toned chest at your intrusion, and it was distorted by the rippling water, but it was there. It existed. And now it refused to leave your mind for even a second.

That’s when you heard the tell-tale noise of the front door closing and Jenson coming back from his pizza run. He called out for you, but the lack of an answer made him come looking for you.

He knocked on your door and tried opening it but failed, immediately making him worry.

“You alright in there, love? I’ve got the pizzas” he spoke softly through the door.

You huffed, you really didn’t want to face Seb after that, so you played the illness card.

“I really don’t feel well Jense, I’m going to sit this one out!” you called out.

He frowned, you seemed fine 20 minutes ago when he left. “You sure? I got you your favourite!” “I’m sorry! You can have it, and you two go have fun tonight! I need to sleep last night off, and I’ll go out with you guys tomorrow!”

He wasn’t convinced but there was no point in arguing with you, so he eventually agreed and left you alone. He and Seb went out an hour later and you were left to your own devices, so you got into your pyjamas (which consisted of a large t-shirt and not much else), made yourself some food and slinked back to your room as thoughts of Seb kept plaguing your mind.

It’s not like you’d never realised Seb was attractive, of course you’d noticed, look at the man for god’s sake. But seeing him all flushed and naked and wet had awoken something in you. Something very dangerous, given the nature of your relationship.

Your thoughts soon drifted to rather lewd areas, as you pictured Seb in multiple situations. Running his hands up and down your naked body in the shower. Sinking to his knees at your feet as he devoured you. Fucking you into the mattress with a hand over your mouth to not alert your brother with your moans. Fucking you in his driver’s room next time you went to a race. Making you come over and over while whispering dirty things in your ear.

Your fantasies were interrupted by the sound of the front door again. You glanced at the clock, it read 3:26. It seems time flies when you’re thirsting over your brother’s best friend, but it was still oddly early for them to be coming home.

You heard footsteps shuffling along the corridor and they stopped right in front of your door, the owner of the feet seemingly listening for any noise coming from your room.

“Jense?” you called out.

“No” Seb’s voice answered, “It’s me, can I come in?”

“Yeah” you sighed, you couldn’t avoid him forever.

He poked his head in, smiling softly at you before padding over to the bed as you sat on the edge next to him, consciously crossing your legs to avoid another incident, given your lack of underwear.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“Not really, although I’ll admit I didn’t see the time pass at all… What about you guys? This is rather early for you two, isn’t it?”

He chuckled and looked deep into your eyes. “I’m here on my own, actually”.

For some reason that made a shiver go down your spine. “Jenson found a companion to go home with, and I didn’t feel like partying alone.”

“Aaah” you sighed comically “slagclaren strikes again”

He laughed softly. “Yeah…”

You looked at each other for a while before the tension became unbearable and you looked away, blushing.

“So about earlier-” he started but you stood up suddenly and interrupted him.

“Please Seb, I really don’t want to talk about it, it was super embarrassing, and I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for you, I’m so sorry”

He cocked his head to the side, frowning at you. “Why would I be uncomfortable? It was an accident, and I’m not exactly embarrassed by my body so… no harm done” he smiled sweetly when your gaze snapped to him.

You laughed in disbelief “Well I should hope you’re not embarrassed by your body! It’s so -”

The image of his wet, muscular body flashed through your mind, along with all the other images you’d conjured up since “uhhhmm…” your brain took a second to reboot.

He smirked “Go on, what is it?”

You blushed profusely and stuttered “Uh, well, it’s uhmm… It’s good” and then you went and gave him a fucking thumbs up.

Jesus, you couldn’t be more lame if you tried.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked even wider “It’s good??”

“You know what I mean!” you whined defensively, face becoming redder by the second “You’re a high-performance athlete! You’re all muscly and… and hot, you know? Like my brother!”

What. The. Fuck.

Your eyes widened in shock “I’m sorry I don’t know why I said that! I panicked! I don’t think my brother’s hot! I mean objectively he is, I guess! But I just-”

Seb was laughing, and he stood up to pull you into a hug.

“Hey, it’s okay I was just teasing you.” he whispered into your ear. “The look on your face when you opened the door and saw me in the bath told me everything I needed to know about what you think of my body…”

Your breath hitched. “Wh- what?”

“You couldn’t take your eyes off of me” he leaned back to look at you “And I think you know what I was doing when you came in…”

He spoke so softly you could barely hear him through the pounding of your heart, and he slowly leaned in and whispered, “Do you know what I was thinking about while I touched myself in your bathroom?”

You whimpered and closed your eyes, the smell of his cologne was overwhelming your senses, and you were on the brink of doing something incredibly stupid. You shook your head. “No, I don’t…”

He chuckled “No?” his hands slid down to wrap around your waist “Let me show you then”

The feeling of his lips on yours didn’t exactly come as a shock, but it was electrifying, and you deepened the kiss immediately, despite the alarm bells ringing in your mind. Your hands went up to grip his hair and he groaned, his hips bucking into yours as he slotted a thigh between your legs for you to grind on.

His hands slid further down and gripped your ass and you gasped, throwing your head back, and he took the opportunity to start kissing down your neck.

"We shouldn't be doing this" you panted, but it sounded weak and shaky even to you.

"Your brother doesn't have to know" he responded, lowering himself down to the ground. He patted the bed and winked at you. “Sit on the edge for me, princess”

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked worried. “I don’t want to force you into anything. If you want, we can just forget everything and go back to being friends”

The thought of that made your heart sink into your stomach.

“It’s just… my brother’s going to kill us if he finds out” you chewed on your bottom lip.

“I won’t tell him if you don’t” he flashed his signature grin, and when yougave him a shy smile in return, he tapped the bed again.

“Now are you going to sit down like a good girl or do I have to make you sit?”

You were almost a blur with how fast you moved.

Once you were settled, Seb spread your legs and glanced down, finally noticing that you were bare before him. He gasped and lightly bit your knee to stop himself from jumping on you immediately.

“Baby, you’re going to be the death of me” he said, nosing up your thigh and you giggled at his reaction, and the feel of his stubble on your sensitive skin.

“Naughty girl, not wearing any panties with your brother’s best friend in your room. One could think you had an ulterior motive…”

He hiked up your legs over his shoulders and pulled your hips almost over the edge, forcing you to lay down and cling to the bed as he licked a stripe up your already wet pussy. He savoured the taste for a second, muttering a curse in German, before diving in completely, lips and tongue working in tandem to drive you crazy.

When his fingers joined the party, it took you no time at all to fall over the precipice, lips chanting his name as your fingers gripped the sheets for dear life.

But he didn’t stop there, he was like a man starved and you writhed in pleasure as he just kept going and you got close to edge again in record time.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me and give me another one?” He mumbled into your pussy as his fingers continued their assault. But you were so close you couldn’t speak, which displeased him greatly, so he pulled away, your orgasm slowly fading as you whined.

“Words, princess, I need words”

But you were incapable of words, so he slapped you. Right on your abused cunt as you cried out. The shock of it turned you on so much you couldn’t think straight.

He waited, but your lack of response warranted another slap, this time slightly higher up on your clit and you squeaked.

“I’ll ask again. Are you going to be a good girl for me and come on my fingers when I say so?”

He’d barely finished his sentence before you wailed “Yes Seb! Anything for you, fuck- please!”

He chuckled “So desperate for it” he slid three fingers in easily and started a brutal pace “Fuck, you’re so much wetter, you like me abusing your pretty pussy, hmm? Making it all puffy and red when you disobey me?”

“Yes Seb, fuck I’m so close!”

“Good girl, go on then, come for me princess”

And you did, so hard that you almost blacked out.

You’d barely recovered before you found yourself being dragged up the bed, legs hooked around his waist, his arms wrapped around you tight as he pounded into you desperately, panting and groaning into your neck.

“You feel so good, so tight around me, fuck- I’ve wanted to do this for so long, schatz…”

You gasped and he deepened his thrusts, hitting all the perfect spots inside you.

“I never want to leave this pussy, so fucking good for me, taking me so well, princess” he reached up, grabbed a pillow and placed it under your hips to raise them up a bit. Then he grabbed your waist for leverage to deepen the angle of his thrusts even more, making you see stars.

“I’m so close, Seb… fuck, can I come please?” you gasped, and his hand moved to rub tight circles around your puffy, sensitive clit.

“Come for me baby, such a good girl, all over my cock, that’s it…” he cooed as your body arched off the bed and your nails dug into his shoulders as you came around him.

Your pussy was like a vice around his cock and his hips stuttered, he was so close.

He came after only a few more thrusts, groaning out broken sentences as his hips slammed into yours, eyes locked on to where his cock disappeared inside you.

“Going to fucking fill you up, princess… Deep inside this cunt… all mine… Squeezing so perfect around me… fucking take it, take it all, … fuck- ”

He collapsed on top of you, breathing hard as he came down from his high, face buried in your neck.

The next few minutes should have been awkward. You had just fucked your brother’s best friend. He had just come inside his best friend’s little sister. But, weirdly, it all felt stupidly natural.

“You want to take a shower with me?” You asked, standing up on shaky legs as you felt his come drip down your inner thighs “Or would you prefer a bath?” You smirked at him and waddled into the bathroom.

“Shower please, I don’t like baths.” he replied.

You hummed as it took you a few seconds for your brain to catch up with that statement.

But then it hit you like a bucket of freezing water.

“ You. What?!!”

#my thots #sebastian thots #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula 1 #🐇#🐇 anon

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year

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Hi!! i was wondering if you would take requests for first years in twisted. Something like their reaction to them arguing and the reader being like “oh you wanna kiss me so bad” during it. if not it’s perfectly fine!! thank you in advance if you do!

COMMENTS: I had some troubles with this one because I didn't quite understand what you were asking me. 😅 I asked a friend who consumes more romantic content than I do (which is practically none) and she told me about characters who don't know how to express their feelings so they annoy their romantic interest. Which I think would be out of character for everyone but Ace and even him I don't believe he gets to such an irritating point.

But what I understood could be that they were arguing because they were jealous but didn't want to admit it and so MC says something like that. So I went with that one. I hope it's good enough.

I hope you and all enjoy 😉

PS: I would have liked to have written some of Epel's lines in his dialect, but English is not my first language so I didn't know how to do it.

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel & Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.

CONTEXT: He heard a rumor that you were seeing a dorm-mate of his that he doesn't like. He thought you would talk about it with him someday, but you never did. And the final straw was when he heard someone comment that you two had started dating. He goes to Ramshackle Dorm to clarify the matter.

The truth is: you were seeing this guy, yes, but only because he was one of, if not the worst student in the dorm and the Housewarden or Vice Housewarden asked you if you could help him study. And they promised you a reward if you could get him to improve his grades.

That student you started helping with his studies had a crush on you and he was the one who started the rumor that you two started dating.

You hear Ace knocking on your door like he usually does. When he doesn't walk right in without knocking as if this was his second dorm. You open the door and he looks sulky.

“So you weren't going to tell your best friend the news?” he asks you with a smirk.

What news? Did the Headmage give you more work without you knowing? Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to like seeing you `play dumb´. He enters and closes the door behind him. He takes your hand and leads you to the common room.

“Spit it out! What's the thing between you and that dude?” You don't really know who he's talking about until he says his name. You tell him about helping him study. “Study? That excuse is old. Even I already used that one.”

You tell him he can even ask Riddle and Trey, they're the ones who asked you for that favor. But he doesn't seem to believe you.

“Just tell me if you guys are dating or not!”

You sound almost disgusted telling him no, you're not dating that guy. And then you say: “And why are you so angry? Would you like to be the one dating me instead?”

He would have blushed if he hadn't been so caught up in the argument. He smirks at you again. “Well I would be much better than him, that's for sure.”

“Oh yeah? So why don't you prove it?”

“And I can! I could take you on the best date you've ever had!”

“So tomorrow at eight is fine with you?”

“More than fine! You will see! I... wait... WHAT?!” Now yes, he blushed completely. You chuckle. “O-OI! This is foul play!”

“You mean you don't want to go on a date with me then?”

“T-that's not what I meant. But... ha... ha ha HA HA HA... You know what? Well played!

You hear a knock on the door, louder than normal. You open the door and see Deuce catching his breath, as if he had run to your door. You tell him to go inside and get some rest in the common room.

“I need to talk to you.” You say you can talk when he catches his breath and you pull him into the common room.

“That guy you started seeing.” he says, after resting for a moment. He says his name. “Is it true that you two are dating?” You sometimes forget that he is the sincere and straight to the point type.

You tell him no. Of course not. You were just helping him study. Riddle and Trey asked you for this favor.

“Really? You can tell me if you're dating.” he tells you that with a slightly sad expression that he can't hide. You say it's true. That you don't even know why he would think you and that guy were dating.

He explains to you how he heard about that rumor. And as you reveal each other's point of view some dots are connected and you come to the conclusion that it could have been that same guy who started the rumour. And Deuce get pissed!

You calm him down and say that if you tell Riddle, it will be off with that guy’s head for sure. And while you calm him down, you end up holding his hands, that at that moment were fists. But he was still irritated.

“The nerve of that guy! As if you would ever settle for someone like that.”

“Do you think I would be better with you?”

“Of course! You deserve the best anyone can have! Not a jerk like that! I would treat you so much better! I would-” and then he realizes what he was saying. He gets all red and covers his face with his hands.

You hear a firm knock on the door. When you open it, you see Jack in a quite serious posture. “Hi (Y/N). I need to speak with you.” You let him in and the two of you go sit on the couch in the common room.

“What is your relationship with that guy you started seeing?” he says his name. And you say you're just helping him study because Leona asked you to. Something about him being an embarrassment to Savanaclaw and Leona not having the patience to deal with it. That you were better at that sort of thing.

He is silent for a moment. His expression impenetrable, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Pondering something. You ask what's going on and he opens his eyes and looks at you: “Are you two dating?”

What? Of course not! Why was he asking that?

“Tell me the truth! If you are then you made a really bad choice. That guy is one of those unruly punks of our dorm. You shouldn't be with him. That guy don't deserve you. You deserve better. Way better.”

“Better? Like you, perhaps?” you startle him. And he looked like he was blushing.

“I-I didn't... I mean... I like to think that I would be better than him, sure. But...” he rubs the back of his head. And you see his ears are back, like he's scared. Of your reaction maybe?

You hear a knock on the door. You open the door and Epel greets you sulkily. You greet him and ask what's wrong. “You! Something is wrong with you.” is what he answers you. “May I come in?”

You let him in. He closes the door behind him and takes your hand to lead you to the common room with him. “What's your thing with that guy?” You ask who, and he says the name of the student you were helping. You say you're only helping him study because Vil asked you to.

“Oh yeah? What are you helping him study? And why you?” he then says a few phrases in his dialect that you don't understand, but he looks upset. You tell him the truth and ask why he is questioning you.

He first answers you in his dialect and you don't understand, he then goes back to saying it in a way you understand: “Because I know you're dating him!” You look confused and start arguing with him about it not being true. And you can't argue anymore when he goes back to talking in a way you don't understand.

“If you are so pissed off because you wanted to be the one dating me then just admit it!” You yell at him, irritated.

“AND WHAT IF I AM?...” and he shuts up for a second because he realized what he just said. He looks down at the floor, lowers his voice, and clenches his fists at his side. “What if I am... I know I'm not that strong or tall, but it's not fair...”

You calmly place your hands on his face and make him look at you again. It's up to you to reassure him now.

You hear a knock on the door so loud it seems like the person on the other side is going to break it down. And then, in Sebek’s thunderous voice you hear: “HUMAN! YOU MUST OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY AND LET ME IN!” You open the door and see him with his usual angry face staring at you.

“May I came in?” It's kind of funny that he asks permission like that despite how rushed he is. You let him in and he talks to you right there at the entrance. It's up to you to close the door.

“Report me about your relationship with the student you started seeing. Why did these meetings start and what is the status?” You try to hide your laughter by the way he's talking, like you're some secret agent on a mission. “Why are you laughing? This is a matter of the highest importance!” The fact that you don't even know why that questionnaire just makes the scene funnier.

After he tells you the name of the "subject" you tell him, still trying not to laugh, that Lilia asked you if you could help that student with his studies.

“Quite a coherent answer. But there is a logical flaw in his narrative. How could you, a human without magic, help a student from Diasomnia with his studies?”

You might not have magic, but that doesn't mean you don't know good study methods, which is why Lilia asked for your help. Sebek believes in you, but he's still dissatisfied.

“Very well. I won't doubt Lilia-sama's plans. But you still haven't told me what your recurring status with him is.” Recurring status? What was he talking about? “I WANT TO KNOW IF IT'S TRUE THAT THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP!” What? Of course not! Where did he get that idea?

“Then what are the origins of your romance rumor?” What? Well, you don't know how it came about, but it's just that, a rumor and a lie. “Are you completely sure of that?” Of course you are!

If he really likes you, then it's because one of the things he believes you are is a person of integrity. So, he fully believes your word. You see him calm down and ponder for a few seconds.

“In that case...” and then he explodes “SOMEONE IS TRYING TO DEFAME YOUR NAME! Start a rumor about you having such a fool and weak partner. HA! I knew you would recognize your own worth not to settle for such a commoner.”

“So who do you think I should settle for?”

“NOBODY. You shouldn't just settle for anything or anyone. You should get what you deserve. And you certainly deserve much more than that worm.”

“Someone like you, perhaps?”

“Well, honestly, someone like you is even worthy of someone like my liege. But if you deem me worthy, THEN YES! I shall be the one you deserve!” he won't even try to hide it, he's too proud of himself and you.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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bellarkeselection · 9 months

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Knew Better But Still Picked You

Gif from @alphinias

Honestly I might turn this into a small series because this is the longest request I have ever written. Let me know if you want more parts 😁. Part two. Part three

Request From @loxleys-blog could i be added to the tag list for cole and a request of best friend of jackie who comes to visit her and moves there with her family and falls for cole and cole falls for her?

The car pulled to a stop outside the big Walter ranch household and I saw the front door fling open revealing my best friend from New York running straight for me. Getting out of the car I took my bag out and opened my arms for her. “Jackie Jack!”

“Y/n. I can’t believe you’re here!” She flung her arms around me and we stumbled when we finally embraced one another.

Jackie and I had become even closer than we were before after her family’s accident. The rest of her friends wouldn’t talk to her but I chose to keep our relationship the same. So I basically took the place of her sister Lucy. “Who’s your friend, New York?” I broke away from her seeing a young guy with green eyes and honey blonde hair.

“She’s my best friend from back home, Cole.” Jackie grumbled tugging on my arm trying to get me to leave with her.

Yet I wasn’t going to not introduce myself to him especially since he was really attractive. Walking over to the guy was sitting on a horse with light blonde hair like he had. “Hey there, I’m Y/n.” Leaning my arms on the wooden fence I sent him a grin.

He dismounted his horse and climbed over the fence shaking my hand with a cheeky grin. “Cole, Cole Walter. Have you ever been on a horse before?”

“Can’t say I have.” I replied to him.

His grin only grew. “Would you want to come riding with me?”

“No. No she wouldn’t actually. Because she’s coming to have ice cream with me and my friends. So we’re gonna be going now.” Jackie came rushing forward tugging on my arm and leading me back away from him. Whipping my head around watching Cole staring at us as we went to leave. I parted my lips, finding myself wanting to talk with him more. There was something intriguing about him I just couldn’t put my finger on.

A few hours later Jackie had me meet Skylar and Tara who she had met on her first day of school. We were sitting inside the ice cream shop where I took a big bite out of my strawberry cone hearing the store bell ring. My gaze shifted to the doorway recognizing Cole came through and he waved in my direction. “OMG. That is not a good idea at all.”

“What’s wrong, Tara?” I asked, finishing the bite I had in my mouth confused.

She sent me a raised brow. “You're getting involved with Cole Walter.”

“I’m not involved with him. I just met the guy today after I came in from the airport.” I told her to eat more of my cone.

Lifting my gaze upward Cole was ordering himself his own ice cream and the woman at the counter handed it over to him. Cole glanced my way and I felt my face turn red after I waved back to him without really thinking and Jackie hit my arm in warning. “Don’t go down that road, Y/n. Cole isn’t a good guy.”

“Why not?” I asked softly.

The three of them looked between one another and Skylar was the first to say something to my question. “He’s known to have a lot of hookups and not be up for a real relationship.”

“He sneaks them out of the house. I saw one the first morning I got to the Walter house. Alex can tell you more if that’s not enough of a warning for you.” Jackie explained putting a hand on my shoulder.

Shaking my head I still didn’t see why they were so afraid for me. I didn’t know anything about the guy but he seemed nice enough. “Okay don’t shoot me for asking this but what is the big deal of getting to know him. I’m not going to hook up with him.”

“That’s what most girls think and then he woos them with his charm…” Tara trailed off.

My best friend squeezed my shoulder and I met her concerned gaze. “I just don’t want you to get hurt because of him. You’re basically my chosen sister now.”

“He’s not gonna ever be interested in me Jackie and I’m not going to be interested in him.” I reassured her and we changed the conversation to something else for the rest of the time.

A few hours later after the crazy family dinner I was laying on my side of Jackie’s bed while she was doing some extra credit homework. Staring up at the ceiling I sighed clasping my hands together on my stomach. It definitely was different from the noisy city sirens and other things. Whereas here you could only hear the wind and all the other animal noises. I heard something slide underneath the closed bedroom door where I got up from the bed seeing it was a note. Folding it open the note read “Meet me on the porch if you want to see something cool - C”

Silently reading it to myself I contemplated on going or not eyeing my best friend while she worked silently. I didn’t suppose she would see if I was gone for a little bit. “Hey Jackie Jack, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Okay. But use mine. Don’t use the one that everybody else does. Trust me.” She warned me turning back around in her desk chair.

Getting to my feet I snatched my boots out from underneath the bed and a green hoodie without her knowing. Then I headed down the stairs as quietly as I could possibly manage since it was almost midnight and most of the house was asleep. Reaching the front door I snuck through it, closing it gently then walked to the edge of the porch not seeing Cole anywhere. “Cole!” I called out still in a quiet voice.

“Over here, Y/n.” He responded by waving a flashlight from the barn door that he had opened. Rushing down the steps I ran towards the barn meeting up with him where he lowered the flashlight when we were standing in front of each other. “Was wondering if you were actually going to show up.”

Shrugging my shoulders I admitted slightly nervous of what he had planned in the middle of the night. “Gotta be honest I’ve never snuck out in the middle of the night like this. So what do you have in mind, Colorado?”

“I wanna show you something you don’t see in fancy New York.” He drew open a horse stall and walked out the horse he was on when we first met. “This is my horse.”

Taking a step forward I brushed a hand through its mane. “He’s beautiful.”

“Glad you like him cause we’re going to ride him to the spot I want to show you.” Cole responded by brushing his hand through his horse's mane touching my hand when he finished his sentence.

Tilting my head at the Walter boy I must have misheard him. “I’m sorry we’re doing what now?”

“We’re going to ride my horse together so I can show you a special spot.” Cole said again to me shutting the door with his foot holding out his freehand to help me step up on the box that was near where his horse was standing already saddled up. “Don’t worry city girl. I won’t make you ride alone until after I’ve shown you how to ride.”

Eyeing his hand extended to me I couldn’t help but hear Jackie and the others warming to not get involved with the Cole Effect. Yet I couldn’t deny I liked the thrill of butterflies he was giving me so I gave him my hand. “Just don’t let me fall off okay.” He nodded helping me throw one leg over and once I was settled he climbed on behind me.

“Hang on tight, Y/n.” He warned me, pressing his front closely to my back, making my face turn a shade of red as he kicked his horse in the gut and we raced from the barn to the open fields in the distance.

The wind blew through our hair and I hadn’t realized but I gripped Cole’s forearm since he was the one controlling the reins. Probably knowing I might scare the horse and then we’d be in trouble. He finally tugged the reins and slowly dismounted the horse helping me down. He had his horse lay down sitting down on the ground waiting for me. “Come on, sit down.” He patted the grass beside him.

“Okay.” I agree plopping down beside him looking around at the dark woods surrounding us. “So what did you want to show me?”

Cole moved his right hand forward tilting my chin upwards towards the sky. “This is what I wanted to show ya, Y/n.”

I gasped in awe seeing the sky dancing with a million stars above our heads. Blinking through some tears I couldn’t describe what it felt like to see something this bright. “This is incredibly beautiful…” The stars were so bright and even though we had some impressive light shows in New York none would compare to this.

“It’s not the only thing that’s beautiful. You surely can’t get that view in the city.” Cole mumbled, causing me to meet his green gaze.

I paused in my next words still confused as to why he was giving me his time and attention when he was labeled as the most popular boy in this town. “Cole, why did you ask me out here tonight? Not that I don’t appreciate it. I just…I don’t entirely understand why me?”

“I ain’t good with saying how I feel so sorry if this sounds stupid….I just instantly liked you for some reason.” He declares where I didn’t say a word with our gazes focusing in on one another.

Parting my lips I whispered out. “Liked me in what way, Cole?”

“In the way where we can…do this.” Cole whispered towards me before he made my breath catch in my throat seeing him leaning forward about to kiss me.

Half of my brain was telling me to not kiss him and remember the warning and the other half was saying he would be your first kiss and I couldn’t deny that I felt something for him even though all we had done was saying hello. I finally made up my mind and closed the gap the rest of the way kissing him. He responded by scooting closer to me and threading one hand through my hair trailing it down to the side of my cheek before I broke it needling air. “Cole….don’t find this dorky of me. But that…you were my first kiss.”

“I wouldn’t judge you for that. So what are you thinking now, Y/n.” He asked me to try to read my facial expressions but I was still in shock and bliss at the same time.

Hugging my knees to my chest I admitted sheepishly with my face turning red. “Jackie isn’t gonna be happy about this. She warned me to stay away from you….I knew better but I’m still choosing you.”

“Well I’m glad cause I’m picking you too, Y/n.” He draped an arm over my shoulder and I laid my head against his chest feeling my eyes getting heavy since I was getting sleepy. His gaze dropped to mine, tucking hair from my eyes. “Don’t worry about Jackie. You’ve got to live a little in life. Now let’s get you back before you fall asleep out here.”

We rode back to the house and I struggled to stay awake after getting off his horse so he decided to just carry me back bridal style upstairs. “Cole, this isn’t my room…she’ll be mad if I sleep in your room.” I trailed off in a sleepy tone laying my head still on his chest with him laying me down on one side of his bed.

He changed into some shorts to sleep in and crawled in the bed beside me feeling me scoot over to him laying my head back in the crook of his neck like it was minutes ago. “Sssh babe. I’ll take whatever Jackie feels tomorrow morning. Just get some rest.” My eyes fell closed and he dozed off shortly after in a peaceful night of sleep.

That was until the morning came and his bedroom door was flung open and I screamed hearing my best friend bursting into his room. “Y/n, I told you to stay away from him!…Well don’t you two have anything to say?” Rubbing my eyes Cole shifted, holding himself up on his elbow staring down at me silently, neither of us giving her an answer.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - @cognacdelights

#cole walter #cole walter x reader #noah lalonde #horse ranch #horse riding #jackie howard #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #netflix #bad boy #cole x reader #ask box is open for anything #requests open #comments really appreciated #forbidden romance

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innuendostudios · 6 months

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youtube

new video about Edgar Wright's Cornetto Trilogy, and how everyone* keeps getting them wrong! this video is sponsored by Nebula, a place where you can watch the original version of this video before I had to tweak it for YouTube's copyright bots. (by clicking that link, you can get an annual subscription for 40% off.) or you can just back me on Patreon, which is also cool and good.

transcript below the cut.

I adore Edgar Wright’s Cornetto Trilogy. I flirted with making a video about it ages ago, had a draft of a script, but ultimately decided it wasn’t about anything except “here’s a thing I like, and here are its (I thought) very obvious themes.” So I shelved it. But, in the years since, I have seen multiple video essayists on this here website claim that these movies are about growing up and taking responsibility. (I say “multiple.” It’s not a lot. But it’s more than one! And that’s enough.)

These people are 100% wrong.

Lemme lay it out: the Cornetto Trilogy is not about growing up. It is not about taking responsibility. It is the exact opposite, and that’s not subtext. It is three movies about stunted manchildren thrust into extraordinary circumstances, and each, in the end, is saved - is redeemed - by abandoning his character arc and failing to grow or change. It is a three-part love letter to immaturity.

And I guess I have to set the record straight.

Sometimes making a video about a thing you love is an act of appreciation. And sometimes it’s out of spite.

The Cornetto Trilogy is three movies: Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World’s End. All three are written by Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright; Pegg stars, and Wright directs; all three center on a relationship between Pegg and real-life best friend Nick Frost, which makes each film a reunion of the core team behind Spaced (excepting, but for a small role in Shaun of the Dead, Jessica Hynes). The three films span three genres: zombie apocalypse, buddy cop, alien invasion; each features a Cornetto ice cream cone: strawberry to represent blood, original blue to represent the police, and mint to represent little green men; this is a joking nod to Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Trois Couleur films, Bleu, Blanc, and Rouge, which were based on the colors and themes of the French flag (I don’t care what you say, Emily: #TeamRouge); that nod is funny because Trois Couleur is high-art drama and these are comedies. All three are parodies of, tributes to, and actually surprisingly good executions of their respective genres. And the hook, the gag at the center of all these movies, is that Simon Pegg plays a character wholly unsuited to be starring in this kind of film.

Shaun, the burnout, is the wrong person to survive the zombie apocalypse; by-the-book British bobby Nicholas is the wrong person to lead an American-style bombastic actioner; and alcoholic asshole Gary is the last person to save the world from aliens.

And I think that’s where people get stuck. Because “schlub finds himself protagonist of a genre film” is the elevator pitch for like a dozen Adam Sandler movies. The genre trappings may be as mundane as parenthood or mandated anger management classes, or as high-concept as action movie, whodunnit, or time travel It’s a Wonderful Life if Clarence were Christopher Walken as the angel of death (that… that makes it sound good, it’s not, don’t see Click; leave Frank Capra alone, Adam). But all these movies have the same basic shape: an extraordinary situation forces a guy to confront his shortcomings, which always stem from having never grown up. And you probably haven’t seen all of these movies, but if you’ve seen any, I bet you have assumptions about how the rest end: even though “Adam Sandler acts like a child” is generally the selling point of an Adam Sandler movie, they all end with some lip service toward becoming an adult: hey man, grow up a bit; appreciate your family a little more; square your shoulders; clean your room. This is so standard, it was parodied mercilessly in Funny People.

And this was a formative microgenre for my generation! Whole universe turns itself upside down to teach some shitty dude to, like, do the dishes and pay his wife a compliment now and then - Liar Liar, Bruce and Evan Almighty (all directed by the same guy, by the way). So I don’t blame people of a certain age for seeing the first act of Shaun of the Dead and thinking “I know where this is going.” And when, at the last minute, it swerves and goes someplace else, you could read that as a gag, a final subversion of expectation, still the same basic shape. But no! No! Once is a gag - thrice??? Thrice is a thematic statement!

So lemme make my case. I’ma take you through these movies one by one - we’ll talk about the manchildren and the expectations set by the genre, and then we’ll talk about that last-minute swerve and what it means. And then you’ll tell me I’m right and apologize!

Shaun of the Dead:

Shaun is a man in his twenties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the slacker.

What is his problem? He needs to sort his life out. Shaun doesn’t know how to take action. He hasn’t advanced since college - he’s been working the kind of job a teen takes over the summer for like a decade, lives with the same best friend, has the same petty fights with his stepdad, goes to the same pub every week with the same group of people. He can’t make a reservation, he can’t manage a calendar, he’s a washup. This makes his girlfriend, Liz, feel stifled, trapped; he is a weight around her ankle, taking her on the same date week after week, keeping her from living her own dreams, having her own adventures. She gives him one last chance to prove he can sort his life out, and he blows it, and she dumps him.

And then: a zombie movie happens.

The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: to survive, and save his loved ones, he’ll have to take action, make plans, be decisive. This is a common fantasy: when you feel ground down by the mundanity of life, you might imagine, oh, if only a crisis would happen, like a zombie virus outbreak, where my normal-life problems like “am I gonna make rent,” “is my girl gonna take me back,” “is my roommate gonna kick out my stoner buddy who’s crashing on the couch” become meaningless, and it’s immediately clear what’s really important, what matters. Then I’d know exactly what to do. It’s why disaster movies work as escapism: a necromantic plague - or at least the fantasy of one - is sometime preferable to normal life.

Hot Fuzz:

Nicholas is a man in his thirties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the hall monitor.

What is his problem? He can’t switch off. He is a hypercompetant police officer with a rulebook where his brain should be. He’s so good at being a cop that he’s spotting and unraveling crimes even on his day off. He can’t maintain a relationship, has no friends, all his coworkers hate him because he keeps finishing their work for them, and his stats show up the rest of the force so badly that they scuttle him out to the country.

Now you might be thinking, “Mmm. A fastidious police officer who can’t have fun? How is that a manchild? Sounds pretty grown-up to me. You’re reaching, bud.” Ohhhh ho ho, smartass, do you remember this scene? [bar scene] Yeah! Nicholas Angel has a five-year-old’s notion of law and order. He’s still playing cops and robbers.

And that’s a problem, because then: an action movie happens.

It doesn’t happen all at once: he goes out to the country and finds they do things a bit differently there. They are (ostensibly) less concerned with rules than what than the rules are for: if the purpose of drinking laws is to keep the streets safe and orderly, and letting some people off with a warning or allowing kids drink so long as they do it inside achieves that end, the rule can be bent. That’s a judgment grown-ups can make; I mean, they’re the ones who wrote the rules in the first place. So be lenient with shoplifters, don’t hassle people for speeding; this isn’t the Big City, you can use your better judgment. But Nicholas never got past doing whatever Mom & Dad said; obedience, and trusting whoever’s up the chain, is his entire moral framework. He can’t accept that bending the law could be more righteous than following it.

But also maybe there’s a criminal conspiracy murdering people and writing it off as accidents and the police chief might be in on it. Or maybe Nicholas is so desperate for a big case with no moral ambiguity that he’s seeing things where they aren’t.

The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: either there’s nothing going on and he needs to chill out about procedure, or the department is corrupt and he’ll have to go rogue like it’s Point Break - and this is how he experiences Point Break. [“paperwork”]

No matter what, he’ll have to bend the rules, which he constitutionally cannot do.

The World’s End:

Gary is a man in his forties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the delinquent.

What’s his problem? Pfffft. What isn’t his problem? Gary is a manipulative, narcissistic, lying, self-destructive, ignorant, violent, thieving, shit-talking, unapologetic asshole who peaked in high school when being all those things was still kind of badass. The greatest night of his life was the drunken pub crawl after graduation he and his friends didn’t even finish, and he’s been tumbling downhill ever since. He’s spent his life ruining everyone who knows him until there’s no one left to ruin but Gary King. So now it’s time to bully the old gang into going back home with him to relive that night by finishing the pub crawl, because, in his own words, it’s all he’s got. And he and his friends have to confront how home has changed since they left - the bars have gentrified, not everyone recognizes them; the defining, epic deeds of Gary’s youth have been forgotten. You can’t actually go back because that place doesn’t exist anymore.

And then: a sci-fi movie happens.

Turns out the town’s been taken over by aliens, and all the people who couldn’t conform to their new order have been replaced with robots! That’s why no one recognizes them! And that’s why the pubs all look the same: the aliens are homogenizing everything! And it’s clear, if they can’t get Gary and his friends to play ball, they’ll roboticize them as well! The obvious move is to get the hell out of town, but Gary keeps inventing excuses to stay and finish the pub crawl, and they sound pretty sensible because the group’s already five pints in. The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: sooner or later he’s gonna have to give up on recapturing his youth and do what’s best for him and his friends now, even if it means running back to the city where all his problems live.

So there we have it: the characters cross the threshold into an unfamiliar world where an external conflict cannot be addressed without resolving the tension within. The slacker will have to get his shit sorted, the hall monitor will have to break the rules, and the delinquent will have to do what’s good for him. And, to an extent, all three know this! The movies Wright and Pegg pay homage to exist in these stories - Shaun knows what a zombie is, Danny keeps Nicholas up watching Point Break and Bad Boys II, and Gary and friends know bodysnatcher movies so well they have philosophical debates with the robots about whether “robot” is the PC term.

So, yeah, if you turned the movies off there, I could forgive you for thinking that’s where they’re headed. But you goofballs watched them to the end and then made content about them, what is wrong with you???

What actually happens in the second halves of these movies?

Shaun twigs that he’s in a zombie movie and, at first, tries to play the part - his survival plans are miniature hero’s journeys with him as protagonist, wherein he’ll save the day by neatly confronting all his flaws. He’ll resolve parental conflict by saving his mom from his zombified stepdad, resolve romantic conflict by showing his girl he can come through when it counts, and resolve internal conflict by being a man who saves the day. And all his plans suck! It’s just the same plan he always comes up with! Dragging around the same useless liability of a bestie, collecting the same group of people, and holing up in the same pub! He doesn’t save his mom: his stepdad apologizes, resolving their conflict for him, and then survives in zombie form but Shaun’s mom gets killed; most of the friend group gets killed because the crisis does not actually suspend but in fact amplifies their personal grievances; and he doesn’t save the day, just manages not to die long enough for the military to show up.

But… well, Liz wanted adventure and now she’s had enough for a lifetime, so… she’s down to just be boring with him for a while - sit on the couch, watch TV, hit the pub. Beats running for your life. Tensions with the roommate are gone cuz roommate died, but rent is covered cuz Liz moved in. Zombies don’t get eradicated, just folded into normal life, so Shaun can mindlessly play video games with his bestie forever, and it’s not a problem that bestie doesn’t have an income cuz he doesn’t need food or shelter.

The zombie apocalypse doesn’t make Shaun sort his life out, it changes the world til he doesn’t have to.

When Nicholas discovers that, yes, there is definitely a murderous criminal conspiracy inside the police department, he recognizes the only way to bring about justice is to become what Danny has always wanted and go Dirty Harry on the town. It’s either that or just swallow the crimes. But he does neither. He and Danny go on an epic shooting spree, recreating famous movie scenes, taking out the entire criminal organization against all odds, and spouting badass one-liners… but everyone who helps them is a cop, they don’t actually kill anyone, all perps are formally arrested, and they fill out all the paperwork. I think he even properly signs out the weapons. He never switches off, never breaks a rule, does absolutely everything by the book, only… louder. And this violent showdown saves him from the chill town with lax rules he thought he’d moved to. Now he, with his five-year-old notion of right and wrong, is in charge of the police department.

The buddy cop actioner doesn’t make Nicholas bend the rules, it changes the world til he doesn’t have to.

Gary knows exactly how a movie of this sort is supposed to go and spends the whole movie running from it. Friends and secondary characters keep sharing these poignant moments with him, because they know this story, too: yeah, he’s gonna reject help at first, but sooner or later he’ll hit rock bottom and then someone will get through to him. And, as the night goes on, and the characters get drunker and drunker, and Gary passes up more and more opportunities to abandon the pub crawl and go home, these moments take a tone of desperation. They start to sound more like interventions; like, Gary, we all know you’re going to come to your senses but could you hurry up with it??? How many of your friends need to literally die for you to shape up? Are you gonna get them all killed?

And the answer is: Gary will never shape up! To Gary the Human Dril Tweet, his friends trying to save him, psychiatrists trying to treat him, and aliens trying to assimilate him are all the same thing. He doggedly makes it to the end of the pub crawl and confronts the alien overlord who tells him all the technological advancements of the past few decades - all the efficiency and homogenization that’ve changed the face of his home town - are their doing. The Information Age is an intervention on behalf of Earth, a pan-galactic effort to save humanity from itself. And the reason they’ve been replacing people with robots is some people are too fucked up to go along with it.

And here’s Gary, King of the Fuckups, brashly declaring that fucking up is what makes us human. There is no freedom without the freedom to ruin your life. We are endowed by our creator with the right to be drunken, ornery pieces of shit.

He tells the aliens to piss off and he’s so fucking annoying that they do, and they take the Information Age with them.

Now… I know… ugh… I know a lot of people love this movie, say it’s the best of the three. Some friends who’ve struggled with mental health or just being an adult under late capitalism really identify with Gary, and the valorization of being a mess. I see you, you’re not wrong, I get it, I really do. But can we just… not “but” but “also” can we… can we also admit that this ending is… this is Space Brexit.

Like, literally it’s an alien invasion but symbolically this is Gary rejecting the adult world of rules and authority and doing what’s best for the community and that’s how Brexiters view the EU. And people keep telling him “Gary, this is in your best interest” and Gary says, I don’t want my best interest! I am registered in the anti-Gary’s Face Party and I will cast my vote by cutting my nose! I choose to do what’s bad for me.

And, like a true Brexiter, he chooses for everybody.

Now tell me that’s a movie about growing up. Gary collapses human civilization in its entirety rather than change, and in the world that follows, he thrives… by being an immature, irresponsible bag of garbage.

To Wright and Pegg, growing up is death, and these are movies about being alive. These characters don’t cross the threshold back into the ordinary world with the ultimate boon of character growth; all three stay in the extraordinary world. The zombies remain, the robots remain, Nicholas is offered his London job back and chooses to stay in the country. These are stories about normal life spontaneously turning into a genre film, and they are made with deep love for those genres; why would they end with leaving those genres behind? Because it’s what Adam Sandler would do?

So there you have it. I rest my case.

“Okay Ian. Why does this matter?”

…what was that?

“You’ve made your point: these movies aren’t about growing up or taking responsibility. So what?”

Uhhhh.

“Bring it home for us.”

…

“Why do you care so much?

[breath]

I wrote the first draft of this script when I was around Shaun and Nicholas’ age, and “so what?” is why I shelved it. Now I’m Gary’s age, this video’s been in the back of my brain the whole time, but I got this far and “so what” is where I got stuck, again. This is why the CO-VIDs came out quicker, cuz I let myself end with “so that’s interesting!” and got on with my life. But there’s clearly something sticky here, more than “someone is wrong on the internet.” (Also, to the YouTubers I’m vaguebooking, who said these were movies about growing up - I’m way more annoyed at the folks I’ve argued with on Twitter about this, you just made a better rhetorical device; you do not owe me an apology!) (Also, to the commentariat: I am not extrapolating this from like two data points, this is chronic and recurring and has been bothering me for years.)

There are a few directions I could take this to give it some “cultural weight.” I could put on my social justice hat and talk about how the “crisis of adulthood” doesn’t play as broad comedy unless you look like Adam Sandler or Simon Pegg, or put on my class analysis hat and talk about how signifiers of adulthood are, traditionally, ways of spending and accruing capital which are, today, often inaccessible to people under 40.

And that’s all legit, but here’s the real deal: I’m just mad at Gary. The world changed around Shaun such that he could stay a child. And Nicholas ended up somewhere he could stay a child. If you missed that, you’re wrong, but whatever. But to say that Gary grew up grinds me, because Gary chose this. The whole movie is people telling him to grow up, and he says no! He says it out loud! He says it to the literal end of the world. To walk out of the theater and say “that’s a movie about growing up” is more than a mistake, it’s a refusal. It’s trying to “fix” the movie by fitting it into a more familiar shape, so it doesn’t say what it says, so Gary isn’t who he is, who he chooses to be.

I’m being cheeky when I say this because he’s a fictional character, but saying Gary grew up is enabling.

Gary says there’s no freedom without the freedom to ruin your life, which is the problem with alcoholics and libertarians: it’s not just your life, Gary! You live in a community, a culture, and an ecosystem! Your actions - everybody’s actions - impact other people! That’s just the way the world is! You can’t shit yourself at the bar without other people having to smell it. We’re all fuckin’ connected, man! You don’t want anyone’s will imposed on you; you spend the whole movie imposing your will on everyone else! You say humans don’t wanna be told what to do, and then you decide humanity’s future by yourself with no input or consent from anyone!

People point to Gary ordering water in the last scene instead of beer as evidence that he got sober, like that’s proof that he did grow up in the end, which are you fucking joking??? Getting sober is a shorthand for maturity the way buying a house is, it doesn’t signify anything in and of itself! Gary drank to escape the adult world of rules and responsibilities! So, yeah, under normal circumstances getting sober would mean he’s made peace with that world and is ready to integrate. But that’s not what happened! The thing he was escaping doesn’t exist anymore! He literally destroyed it!! People died! Probably millions! Now he lives a happy life LARPing as Omega Doom - no I don’t expect you to catch that reference! He doesn’t need to drink! He is literally reliving the best day of his life forever. And even if it did mean personal growth, the idea that a person could make what would be, unequivocally, the most selfish decision in human history, and then spend his life celebrating the outcome, oh but if he overcame a personal demon in the process then on balance that’s maturity? That is lightspeed solipsism! Who are you if you think that way? Are you all Adam Sandler???

And none of that makes this a bad ending, or Gary a bad character. I mean, he is the reason The World’s End is my least favorite, and I don’t like the ending, but I don’t think it’s bad that I don’t like the ending. Rather than watch another addict pull his life together or destroy himself, we watch a downward spiral with so much gravity the whole world self-destructs alongside him. And that’s why The World’s End is the most interesting of the three: it is a bold choice, and I think we are free to feel however we want about the conclusion Gary engineered for himself. I don’t think it’s valid to pretend it didn’t happen.

In the context of the trilogy, we see that Shaun’s immaturity is mostly a problem for Shaun: he would be, at worst, a footnote in the lives of the people who love him; “yeah, I liked Shaun a lot, but I couldn’t carry him through life anymore.” Nicholas is the kind of overachiever that is useful if pointed in the right direction; juvenile code of ethics aside, he is, empirically, helping the community (within the entirely fictional framework where that’s a thing police do). If the world hadn’t changed to turn their flaws into strengths, they would still be relatively harmless. Gary is what happens when immaturity isn’t harmless, and shows us how a world built by that immaturity would look.

There is an appeal to Gary King, a wish fulfillment. Letting your id fully off the leash because you no longer care what anybody thinks - it’s why some people drink, and it’s why some people would like to drink with Gary. But if that’s not just your Friday night, not just your twenties, but that’s your life? There is a destination at the end of that road, and it’s Gary doing something truly ugly. And we see that ugly thing the way Gary sees it: as awesome. But then you see the reality: the Monday morning after the Friday night. We went out with Gary and he did something terrible.

And I’m not telling you to hate Gary for it; I’m not saying Gary can’t be forgiven. In fact, seeing it for what it is is the only way Gary could be forgiven, because, if he “grew up and took responsibility,” there’s nothing to forgive.

I think this is the only way the trilogy could have ended. I mean, you make stories about boys who get older and older and don’t grow up, it eventually becomes a problem. There’s only two ways to resolve it: you either end with a guy actually sorting his shit out, or you go for broke and show what happens if he doesn’t. And I think some of us boys saw that and said, “no, noooo, they did grow up! all three of them!” rather than say, “haha! hahaaa! ……………shit.”

#video essay #cornetto trilogy #Youtube

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boytearscore · 29 days

Text

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead. TW for this chapter: mention of panic attack.)

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09, @ncm9696 , @klaus223492, @freshloveforthefit (thank you so much for the support, girls 💋)

author’s note: i’d like to say, this is by far the hardest chapter i’ve written. it was so intense and emotional but i hope you guys enjoy it. (feedbacks, comments and anything else are welcome, feel free to speak your mind) that’s it, see ya! chapter one here, chapter two here

chapter three.

after much thinking, you decided to go home and cool off, just the thought of making nick and chris uncomfortable because their brother was a dick make you blood boil.

you texted the group of you three telling them you had some stuff to do and needed to leave early, but that you’d see them soon.

chris was the first one to reply, you were still driving home when his message popped up but you didn’t want to be distracted, so you conclude it’s best to reply later.

as you passed by the tall buildings and palm trees of LA, your mind just went away with thoughts of matthew.

no guy looked at you that way before, sure, a few did hate you for past relationships and even because you always hold them accountable when they do shitty things.

but the coldness of matt’s eyes, there was so much hate, it was almost like he’s holding in something else.

jealousy? you think to yourself but shakes your head right away.

not a fucking chance.

all you know is that his attempts to hurt you didn’t and will not work in the future. the only thing bothering you is not being able to read him as much as you do to all the other guys. there’s a blockage and your curiosity to find out more was actually growing bigger now that he seemed way too angry about you flirting with chris.

finally, you get home, opening the door and throwing the keys on the couch. you go straight to bed, getting yourself comfortable on the between the sheets and buffing loudly. you hear another beep.

oh shit, chris. you thought grabbing your phone immediately, he didn’t reply on the group chat, but sent you a private message.

“did you go home because of what happened earlier?”

you frown, does he know about your argument with matt? fuck, that could not happen, things would get messy and really awkward.

but then another message popped up.

“sorry, i couldn’t control myself… you’re too tempting.”

you let out a huge sigh of relief, smiling at your phone and responding to him.

“trust me, it was very hard to leave after what you did, christopher. but there's indeed an emergency, don’t worry.”

you lied for the first time to chris and a sinking feeling weighed your heart, maybe one day you’d be able to tell him about what actually happened, but that’s not the right time yet.

“hahaha, i guess you should walk on me getting out of the shower more then. ;)”

you smile again, it was so adorable to see chris’ bold and confident side. it was also fucking hot.

“so i can win and make you blush again? pfft, that’d be boring.”

chris types for a while and then stops, then types again and you chuckled, he’s still the cute guy you knew.

“you’re lucky we weren’t in my room, the only reason why i didn’t bend you over that wall and fucked you right there was because one of my stupid brothers could catch us.”

you stare at the message for a couple seconds, the smile turning into an amused smirk. so this is the same guy who facetimes you until he can fall asleep after watching a horror movie?

an exciting feeling took over your whole body, but then you read the last sentence.

''one of my stupid brothers could catch us.”

you close your eyes and the image of matt stabbing you with his gaze is all over your head again.

this was starting to piss you off, you never really thought about matthew that much. he was just annoying and kind of there while you hangout with your best friends, but now? even flirting with someone else over text, you can’t help but think of him.

this is not over.

before you could respond chris, you dozed off.

your phone is suddenly buzzing, you open your eyes confused, the room was already pitch black and then you check the time, it’s 3AM.

“who the fuck is calling at 3AM?” you murmured to yourself but got your answer right away. ”matt?” you almost yell, getting up off the bed and staring at the contact calling.

what he could possibly want from you at 3AM? was he determined to annoy you this much? you roll your eyes and wait for it to go straight to voicemail, expecting him to give up, but then he actually sent you a voice message.

“hey…” his voice was shaken, breathless. and you frowned confused. “chris and nick are out for tonight and…” he stops again and you hear a sob. “i need to take my anxiety medication but i can’t get up. i hate to ask you this but… can you please help me?”

“i’ll be there in 10.”

you immediately text him without thinking twice, leaving your room and grabbing the keys on the couch.

on the way to the triplets house, your mind raced just as much as your heart. you forgot about the argument from this morning, all you wanted to do is get there before anything bad could happen.

after 15 minutes, you finally get there using your spare key to open the house. it was quiet, dark and you could hear low sobs and shaky breaths close to the living room wall. you rush to the cabinet, grabbing his pills and getting a cup of water, following the noise and soon finding matthew on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, you bend over touching his shoulder and he grabs your hand abruptly, looking at you with a terrified expression. his eyes were swollen and moist, his lips were red from biting it hard and you could feel his whole grip shaking around your hand.

“do not touch me.” he yells but loses strength, leaning over the wall still holding your arm which makes you fall next to him. his eyes widened and he almost looked like he was about to apologise but then he glared at your hand holding his medication. “how did you know where it was?”

“nick.” you reply, and he stays quiet for a while. his grip still on your hand, but you didn’t even notice it. “he told me about what happened years ago…”

he remains quiet, just breathing heavily, his gaze focused on the ceiling of the living room, you also stayed quiet. the pain in his lost eyes made your heart ache, suddenly he loosened his grip and you watched him stretch his hand. you frowned and he rolled his eyes.

“the medication.” he says and you give to him, he takes the cup of water from your other hand and shug all of it after putting the pill into his mouth.

and that’s when shit happens.

you don’t know why, but you feel the urge to hug him. all these years of anger, annoyance and rudeness meant so much less when you just saw how much pain he was feeling. sure, nothing excuses his behaviour, but you imagined the way those kids treated him, the reason why he changed so much and why he refused to talk about it even with the people he trusted the most.

he was just a little kid, for god sake.

and so you do it.

you wrap your arms around him and he tries to push you away. “what the fuck are you doing?” he yells, and you hug him tighter.

“it’s not your fault, matt.” you whisper.

“what are you talking about? get off of me!” he still protested and you repeated again, this time a little louder.

“it’s not your fault. none of this is.”

and then he stops fighting against your hug, you hear loud sobs, his body shaking and his arms squeezing around your waist, he lets his head fall on your shoulder. your hand reaches his hair, gently caressing it and the other rubbing his back.

“i…” he tries to speak but all it came out was loud whimpers, and you hug him even tighter.

“i know…” you tell him quietly.

both of you stayed that way for a while, your arms and hands giving him warmth and comfort. he eventually calms down and when you feel him lift his head up loosening the hug, you look at him and he stares at you, a few tears still falling and you can’t help but wipe them with your fingers. the contact of you skin makes matt close his eyes, he puts a hand over yours and let a huge sigh out.

“why?” he asks, still with his eyes closed.

“what do you mean?” you tilt your head to the side, confused.

“why are you being nice to me when i'm nothing but a jerk to you all the time?” he opens his eyes and stares at you with an expression you’ve never seen before on his face.

you think for a second, biting your lips. matthew is staring at you intensely waiting for a response.

“i don’t know…” you confess. “i just don’t like to see you in pain, that’s all.”

“but why?” he questions you again, this time, he pressed your hand harder against his face.

“because i know how it feels.” you blurt it out without thinking and he doesn’t react, nodding his head quietly.

“fuck…” he finally speaks, avoiding your gaze for the first time that night. he huffs looking at you again, slowly getting closer, now you are inches from each other faces. “you’re the worst.” he mutters, shutting his eyes hard and keeping your palm against his cheek. he lets out another huff of breath and then speaks. “you make me feel... weird."

you grab his face with both hands and make him stare at your eyes, he was still crying.

“tell me how you feel, matt.” you whisper, at this point your chest was about to explode with strong heartbeats. “open your heart to me, i’m not gonna hurt you…” you continue, looking at his teary eyes. “i promise.”

matthew place both of his hand over yours and hesitates a little, you fingers gently rubbing his cheeks and he finally open his mouth to speak when you hear the front door opening.

“matt?” a yell makes both of you turn to the front door, chris and nick just arrived.

they stare at you on the ground and nick rushes over to see what’s happening, while chris is just staring at your hands on his brothers face and his over yours, feeling a mixture of jealousy and worry.

“the fuck happen to you?” nick asks, and you get away from matthew like you just woke up from a trance. you glance at chris by the front door and notice his weird expression, but decide to not think about it since a lot is happening at the moment.

“just had a panic attack.” he shrugs, getting up from the ground and looking at you. “she helped me, i’m okay.”

chris and nick turn to you with eyebrows raised, like they just heard the most absurd thing ever.

“now that i’m not needed anymore…” you pick up the keys from the counter and head to the door not wanting to explain things not even you understand, but chris grabs your arm, you could see his jaw clenched.

“you should’ve called us.” he’s still holding you, but staring at matt who seemed to be back at his usual nonchalant self again. “not her.”

“thought you said you guys were staying the night there. didn’t want to bother your little vacation.” you feel the grip on your arm getting tighter and that infuriates you.

“are you done?” you ask chris angrily and he finally looks at you, immediately letting your arm go. “that’s what i thought.”

you turn to nick waving goodbye, he mutters “i’ll text you later” and you leave without looking at chris or matt.

what the hell just happened?

it’s all you could think on the way home while your phone was blowing up with messages from chris.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x fem!reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #strong female lead #strong female protagonist #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris and matt #love triangle #enemies to lovers #best friends to lovers #fanfic #fanfiction #sturniolo triplets

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delulustateofmind · 6 months

Text

Title: Between Worlds Part I

I’ve never written fan fiction before but here we go :) inspired by: I stole the duke’s first night

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Trigger warnings: mention of death (reader’s previous life), alcohol, mentions of cheating, sexual implications, poor decisions. angst in the beginning. Let me know if I’m missing any!

word count: 2k

****

Before the jump of reality:

I had just got home after a long day of work, stumbling into my apartment that I shared with my boyfriend. I was in the middle of taking off my shoes when I notice another set of shoes that neither of us owned. After finishing setting my things down, I walk towards our bedroom. Sounds of giggles escaping our bedroom, I feel my gut harden, there’s no way.

There it was my best friend and my boyfriend in bed together wrapped up in the sheets. My boyfriend’s smile faded when he met my gaze, his own face turning into pure shock.

“Y/n what are you doing home so early, I thought you wouldn’t be home for a few more hours,” my boyfriend said in a trembling voice. My friend on the other hand gave me a look of shock before stating,

“Y/n I swear it’s not what it looks like, we were drinking together and one thing led to another. I swear…I wouldn’t do that to you,” my best friend breathed, her voice sounding pleading as she was frantically putting on her clothes.

I stood there, not knowing what to do as the tears rolled down my face. My boyfriend, the one that stayed with me through all of my hardships. My best friend that was my ride or die. The people I trusted the most. Together in bed.

Without a thought I ran out of the room. My tears blocking my vision. I ran out of the apartment, down the stairs. I had to just get out of here. I didn’t care that I had no shoes on, I didn’t care that I left my keys at home.

I stopped running when I noticed I was in the middle of the street and a truck coming straight at me. A bright light cleared my vision and I was out cold.

The next moment, I woke up, my head had a raging headache. Sunlight creeped my windows, the smell of misty and pine trees filled the room. I took a deep breath, was it just a nightmare? Taking in my surroundings, this is not my room. Before freaking out I met the gaze of a maid.

“Miss. Y/n, we don’t have all day. We have a really busy day today especially if you plan on meeting with your friends at Rita’s later tonight,” she said as she opened the curtains, letting more sunlight fill the room.

“Where am I?” My voice came out as a trembling whisper. I could feel a lump in my throat. The thoughts in my head pounding as I looked at the maid. “How do you know my name?” I managed to force out.

My maid huffed and gave me a smirk. “Miss Y/n, we don’t have time for your silly games like usual. You have a dress fitting in an hour, we cannot be late this time,” she walked over to me, noticing my paleness. The maid tilted her head.

“Are you feeling okay? You look awfully pale and almost like you’re about to cry,” her voice once filled with amusement was turning into concern.

The panic seeped in as I looked at her pleading. “I’m going to sound crazy, but I have no idea who you are. Where I am and how you know my name.”

The maid looked at me with concern as she placed her palm on my head to check for a fever. “You don’t have a fever…Y/n, you’re in Velaris. Remember, we just got back from a trip to the summer court last night.” The maid's voice was full of concern as she checked my body. “Perhaps the travel overwhelmed you…let me bring you some water,” the maid claimed as she left quickly.

Velaris? Like the city in A Court of Thorns and Roses? There’s no way I’m in Velaris. This is just a terrible dream…right?

I look around the room, it was a delicate pink room. Giving the impression of a humble noble daughter’s room. I get out of bed, I’m wearing what seems to be a long night gown made of silk. There’s no way this is real. As I move across the room to investigate my surroundings, I stub my toe on the table, murmuring curses to myself.

Yep, this is real. That should have woken me.

After my maid came back, gave me water and bread as I ate, she talked about what we had to do today. I had a dress fitting for the new season. I was to also meet some friends for some drinks. With the information I was gathering, I was the only child to one of the city officials, a relatively minor character. Classified to be some form of a noble but not highly ranked where I would ever run into any of the major characters.

A Court of Thorns and Roses, the book series that I would often reread a billion times. A comfort series of sorts. The world that I’m now in…how did this happen?

As my maid got me ready for the day, a concerned expression still settled on her face. I pondered some things, making a mental checklist of the information I know so far based off of my conversation with my maid.

The war with Hybern is over, it has been a year since then. Meaning the Valkyrie hasn’t been established. Feyre wasn’t pregnant yet. I have no magic, I have some small healing abilities but that’s the only thing I have going on for me. While in my world, I had no parents. It seems in this one I actually have decent parents that care and spoil me. Leading to the fact that I run a bookstore with a coffee shop that they bought for me as a graduation present. The friends that I’m meeting up with tonight are of higher status than myself. Often times we go to Rita’s together to catch up.

After she finished getting me ready, the dressmaker arrived and took my measurements and such. Creating a dress for Starfall was not an easy feat, especially if I wanted to catch the eye of suitors. My dressmaker claimed. I rolled my eyes at that comment. I wasn’t sure how long I would be in this world for, but given how my life is set up here. I want it to be an easy life of relaxation compared to my original world.

******

After what seemed like hours upon hours of trying on dresses and getting sized. I was finally done with that task of the day and meeting my friends.

The first girl I met, standing outside Rita’s with a big grin, was apparently my roommate from boarding school. Dark curls lined her tan face. She stood a bit taller than myself, wearing pants and an oversized button up shirt. ‘Rose’ was her name as she pulled me into a hug.

“Y/n it’s been too long! How was summer court? I heard their beaches are beautiful” she gave me a warm smile before looking at our other friend that was walking over. “Hazel! Y/n wasn’t late this time. Isn’t that a shock!” Rose exclaimed.

‘Hazel’ was your typically shy girl. Plain looking but had gentle features. Straight dark brown hair that flowed to her waist and large circular glasses that seemed to cover her beautiful blue eyes. Hazel gave me a warm smile. Apparently she helps me with my bookshop.

“Y/n! We’ve been so busy while you were gone. I’m glad you’re back though!” She gave me a gentle smile.

I gave them both a smile, Rose seemed to notice something was off but shrugged it off before dragging us all into Rita’s. My stomach was turning, how long could I play into this facade without getting caught?

It was interesting to see the pleasure hall from the books. I planted a fake smile to my face, trying not to focus on the unsettling notion that I am currently inside my favorite book series. Music coated the halls as Rose pushed us to a table and claimed she would bring us some drinks. Hazel sat with me quietly as we both observed the room. Waiting for our extroverted friend to come back.

If I remember correctly the main character that comes here frequently is Mor but what are the odds of her bringing the whole inner circle here. While I was deep in thought, I didn’t notice the beer that my friend put in front of me.

“Let’s get wasted until sunrise!” Rose explained before clinking glasses with the rest of us.

As the night went on, we had a blast chatting about random topics. Rose was apart of the guard, one of the few females that is working towards becoming a knight. She shared stories of her training.

Hazel was sharing stories of her work, writing a novel about a princess falling in love with a dragon. Clearly it had some smut, which Hazel blushed about as she went into detail about certain scenes. A book that I can clearly imagine Nesta purchasing in the future.

I decided to take our drinking up a notch, teaching the girls on how to make a sake bomber. Which clearly brought some attention when a few males came over and chatted with us. Before I knew it, I was black out drunk and dancing with a beautiful man with hazel eyes. From the drinking, it seems my vision was awful, because I couldn’t notice the large wings behind him. My gaze could only focus on his hypnotizing eyes.

In a voice that sounded like a melody made for my ears I hear the words, “Shall we get out of here?” The male whispered in a low tone. I gave a nod, why not? Perhaps I will be waking up in the morning back in my world.

****

Wrong. I did not wake up in my world. I woke up with a man wrapping his arm around my waist. A wing draped over us and the feeling of hot breath behind my neck. Shadows kissed my cheeks. My stomach tightened, shadows, that could only be one male that I could think of.

All I remember is dancing and going home with this man. One of which, was the one with gorgeous hazel eyes that seemed to pierce my soul. Instead of turning over to get a better look at the man, I slowly moved out of the bed, unwrapping his hand from my waist. Anxiety creeping my body, causing my hands to tremble.

“You going somewhere?” A small smile formed on the male’s lips when I turned to look back at him.

This male was no other than the spymaster for the Night Court. His dark hair a mess, his hazel eyes had a sleepy gleam to them. A smirk on his lips that spoke of mischief. Azriel was more beautiful than ever described in the books. This male looked like a god that I wanted to worship to the end of my days.

I wasn’t able to form words, my mouth opened but nothing came out. I looked at him with a shocked expression.

“Y/n? I asked you a question, you wouldn’t be trying to leave me would you?” He asked playfully. “Because, trying to sneak away from the spymaster would not be an easy feat, my love,” his catlike grin as he pulled me back into an embrace.

My mind was in full-on panic, I wanted an easy life, I was fine without meeting the characters. I was fine just living on the sidelines. Yet, here I was in the arms of one of the most dangerous man in all of Prythian.

“Did we…you know,” I muttered sheepishly as I felt a blush creep my face. I was no stranger to one-night stands, but when it came to a one-night stand with my favorite character, that was a whole other story. The very thought made my anxiety heightened.

Azriel held in a laugh, “we almost did until you…passed out. You kept telling me how pretty and misunderstood I was…as if you knew everything about me,” he claimed softly. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, love,” his thumb brushed along my bare skin.

A flash of drunken flashbacks came back. One of which, where I was crying to him about how misunderstood he is. That he’s not a monster and deserves all of the love in the world. That this beautiful man is a necessary evil.

Azriel pulled me out of my thoughts as he shifted in the bed to get a look at my face. Grabbing a strand of hair as he looked down at me with a warm expression.

“You don’t plan on leaving me, after last night do you?” He murmured in a voice that dripped like honey. His eyes looked like the belonged to a pleading puppy.

I'm screwed.

“If I were trying to leave…would that upset you?” I gazed up at him sheepishly.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want my mate to leave me,” he grinned like a cat watching its prey squirm.

Wait…mate?!

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #light angst

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hwashotcheeto · 7 months

Text

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (8)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Eight

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: As Wooyoung promised, the three of you filled the two weeks leading up to the party with nothing but excitement.

WC: 4.4k (Damn)

CW: Mostly fluffy antics, one scene is suggestive, ending scene is angsty, argument, crying, talks of a narcissistic/abusive parent (again), hugs, cuddles

AN: This chapter is more of a montage, if that makes sense. It's multiple short moments all put into one chapter, all on different days over the two weeks between chapter 7 and chapter 9.

I felt like that made the most sense (and was the best way to write this) for the bridge to the Christmas party.

And this is also to prepare you all for the Christmas party because it will be a lot. So please, enjoy this, and be prepared! 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @becauseilovedyou @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime

Seonghwa came into the kitchen with a large white binder and put it down on the counter. The front of the binder had “Recipes” written across the front in pretty cursive.

You and Wooyoung looked from either side of him as he flipped the binder to a “dessert” section and began looking through the cookies.

All the recipes were put into plastic sleeves, with no writing or scribbles, and perfectly straight.

“Can we do those?” Wooyoung asked, stopping Seonghwa on a recipe for double chocolate cookies. .

“For Christmas cookies?” Seonghwa clarified. Wooyoung looked at Seonghwa like he didn’t understand the question.

“Why not? Chocolate is popular at Christmas.” Seonghwa sighed and shook his head. Wooyoung made a small noise of protest, but went quiet as Seonghwa went back to looking through the recipes.

By the end (after a few more interruptions from Wooyoung), each of you were given a different cookie to make. Wooyoung set up by the stove. Seonghwa had most of the counter space, and you were at the kitchen table.

It wasn’t long before the chaos began.

“Eomma, I can’t find the vanilla,” Wooyoung called, going over to Seonghwa, who was reading over his recipe. He looked up to see Wooyoung rummaging through a cabinet. You saw Seonghwa’s whole body cringe seeing Wooyoung move bottles and knock them over.

You couldn’t help but giggle as Seonghwa rushed over and stopped Wooyoung. He reorganized the cabinet before he located the vanilla and gave it to Wooyoung. You saw a little smirk on Wooyoung’s face as he sweetly thanked Seonghwa.

You smiled as you went back to your recipe, continuing to make the cookie you were assigned. Things were calm for another thirty seconds before Wooyoung piped up again.

Wooyoung came over to the table and took the flour from you just as you reached for it. “Hey, I need that!” You called, going after him.

“So do I, I’ll be done in a second.”

You stood befuddled as you watched Wooyoung intentionally take his time slowly adding the flour to his dough. Slowly spooning the flour into the measuring cup before he dumped it into the mixture. He even took the time to scrape the flour out of the measuring cup.

“You’re an ass,” you muttered. Wooyoung just gave you a big bright smile.

“But you love me!”

“I don’t know where you got that idea.” You yanked the flour away from him the second he was done with it and went back to the table. Wooyoung dramatically gasped before he started fake crying.

The whole nine yards, with loud wails and rubbing his eyes like a baby.

“Eomma,” he fake sobbed as he went over to hug Seonghwa, hiding his face in his sweater, still faking the crying.

Seonghwa didn’t even look at him, he’d heard the whole interaction. He just petted Wooyoung’s hair as he continued mixing his dough. You shook your head as you finished using the flour.

“Eomma, didn’t you hear?” Wooyoung whined, looking up at Seonghwa with dry puppy eyes. Seonghwa still didn’t look at him, but nodded silently. “You love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Seonghwa finally said. He looked away from the bowl for just a second to kiss Wooyoung’s head. Apparently, that’s all Wooyoung needed before he went back to his station to make his cookies.

The peace stayed for a bit longer this time. In that new lull of peace, Seonghwa softly began to sing. It was a song you didn’t know, one in Korean, but it sounded gorgeous.

Especially hearing Seonghwa sing it. His voice was so soothing to listen to, soft and smooth, effortlessly transitioning from note to note and across the scales. His voice was comparable to bird song with how sweet the melody was.

You took extra care to stay quieter so you could hear his voice. You noticed Wooyoung did the same.

When the song ended, you were a little disappointed. You wanted to hear more.

You were about to ask Seonghwa if he could sing another song when Wooyoung piped up.

“You’ll put me to sleep if you keep singing.” All three of you laughed. But even despite the lullaby nature of Seonghwa’s soft singing, you wanted him to keep going. You wanted another song. Anything to hear more of his voice.

But you knew there was some truth to Wooyoung’s joke. So you let it go and focused on the cookies.

You all finished your dough around the same time. Half of your batches were baked then, and the other half of the dough would be frozen so you could bake them the day of the party.

(Cookies are also better if you freeze the dough first, but Wooyoung whined about the idea of waiting any longer for his cookies)

And after you three had cleaned up, you all sat at the table waiting for the cookies to be done. You were the one to start the conversation.

“You didn’t tell me your mom was a singer,” you said to Wooyoung as Seonghwa sat down next to him. The slight flush in his cheeks wasn’t missed by you.

Wooyoung shrugged. “He doesn’t sing in front of people much.” He looked at Seonghwa disapprovingly, with his eyebrows down with a frown. “When he should, because he’s good at it.” Seonghwa looked away as his face turned redder.

“I just don’t feel like it all the time.”

“You should,” you encouraged, smiling warmly. “Your voice is beautiful.” Seonghwa smiled back at you.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Your heart fluttered and you felt heat rush to your cheeks.

Wooyoung scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You guys can be gushy later, I’m still here.”

You and Seonghwa both laughed, but you both turned your attention back to Wooyoung.

“So, who’s all coming?” Wooyoung asked, propping his head up on his hand.

“Your uncles are coming, Yunho and Mingi,” he began, looking off into space, trying to remember everything. “The cousins that usually come to the functions too.” He paused for a second, trying to remember. “Oh, Hongjoong said he’d come.”

“Hongjoong?” Wooyoung clarified, sitting up properly, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes, I texted him, and he said he’d come.”

Wooyung smiled so big and silently celebrated, bouncing in his seat a little bit. When he looked back up at you, he saw your confusion and calmed back down, ready to explain, but Seonghwa took over instead.

“Hongjoong is one of my previous boyfriends. He and I are still on good terms, he’s Wooyoung’s favorite.”

“Because he’s the best!” Wooyoung bounced again. Seonghwa smiled softly to himself.

Hongjoong was his favorite too. They were great as friends, but not so much as a couple. They spent years trying to work it out, to figure out how they could function together, but it just didn’t work out.

But even if they didn’t agree to just stay as friends, Wooyoung would never let Hongjoong go.

“He’s a music producer,” Wooyoung started, “So obviously, he makes and produces music, and he took me with him to work sometimes, and it was SO COOL, because I got to see the studios and meet artists and I even got to help with some of the projects!”

“He also bought you almost anything you asked for,” Seonghwa added. Wooyoung’s face fell and he waved his hand at Seonghwa.

“That’s not why he’s my favorite, that’s not important!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but you were certainly intrigued. You were definitely looking forward to meeting Hongjoong, and the rest of their family. The uncles Seonghwa mentioned, and the cousins as well.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes, he’s coming, and maybe a few friends, but we’ll see as the weeks go on. It’ll be a smaller party this year.”

“In that case, can my friends come?” Wooyoung asked, looking at Seonghwa with hopeful eyes. He’d never expected to bring you along, but now that he had, what’s stopping him from inviting the rest of his friends?

Seonghwa’s response was just a shrug. “I don’t see why not.”

You and Wooyoung smiled brightly.

Christmas would be amazing this year.

Not long later, the cookies were done. They were delicious.

“Which one of you has the gold paper?!” Wooyoung yelled from the living room, looking through his collection of wrapping paper tubes.

“I do!” You yelled back as you grabbed it, going to the living room to give it to Wooyoung. He shrieked when you came around the corner.

“No, just throw it! Don’t look!”

“None of the presents are mine anyway, why does it matter?!”

“Because you’ll spoil the surprise for other people!”

“I don’t even know everyone or whose present is whose!”

Distantly, in his bedroom upstairs, you could hear Seonghwa dying laughing.

You sighed and tossed the wrapping paper onto the floor and went back to the gifts you were wrapping.

Wooyoung’s demand was even more outrageous because the gifts you were wrapping were for the same people Wooyoung’s gifts were.

Seonghwa had bought most of the gifts for the family that was coming, and others for one's he was going to mail to those who couldn’t make it. You offered to help wrap the many gifts he bought, since it would take him ages if he did it on his own.

Wooyoung bought some of his gifts for the family on his own, but you knew none of the ones he was currently working on were for you or Seonghwa.

You knew this because he told he’d done it already and was hiding it in his room.

You sat back down at the kitchen table and went back to wrapping the gifts. It wasn’t long later before you heard Seonghwa calling for wrapping paper you had.

You got up to go give it to him, but Wooyoung met you at the stairs. “I’ll take it up to him,” he insisted, grabbing the other end of the tube.

“No, it’s fine,” you argued, trying to pull it back. Wooyoung shook his head and tried to pull it back, firmer this time.

“It’s okay, I had to go up there anyway, he has one I want.”

Well that was suspicious, especially since he’d just asked you for a different wrapping paper a minute ago.

But he’d always yanked the tube out of your hand and was running up the stairs.

You almost chased after him, but decided against it, and once again, went back to the table.

You and Wooyoung were whispering to each other from the living room as Seonghwa was making dinner, while the TV was loudly playing a movie to cover up your whispers.

“Repeat after me,” Wooyoung started. “Yeobo.”

“Yeobo,” you whispered back. Wooyoung nodded.

“Okay, good, you’re getting better.” You and Wooyoung both smirked in satisfaction. The plan was coming together.

Wooyoung had taught you a couple other Korean words to be able to make a flirty comment to Seonghwa. An ambitious sentence that translated to “Your dress would look prettier on the floor, baby.”

You’d been practicing your pronunciation with Wooyoung since Seonghwa had started dinner, though you’d been working together on this for a few days by then. And since Seonghwa was finally wearing a dress tonight, you had the chance to say it.

You’d been staring at the dress all night, you couldn’t help yourself. A short black dress with holes cut out for the chest and shoulders, and slits by the thighs.

But it would definitely look better on the floor.

“Dinner is done!” Seonghwa called, right on cue. Wooyoung gave you a reassuring smirk before he got up from the couch.

You followed him, your heart thundering as you whispered the phrase to yourself, making sure the pronunciation was correct, repeating it over and over again, until you sat down at the table with Seonghwa and Wooyoung.

And you were terrified. You spoke very little throughout the meal to hide your nervousness. Even with Wooyoung giving you encouraging looks across the table, you couldn’t work up the courage to say it.

Until the meal was over and the clean up began.

Like every other meal, you were helping Seonghwa clean up. You were rinsing the dishes off and putting them in the dishwasher as Seonghwa was putting any leftover food away. Wooyoung was wiping down the table, taking his time to hopefully hear the moment you said the line to Seonghwa.

As you put the last plate in the dishwasher, you took one final breath, and walked up to Seonghwa.

He looked up at you for a second before he focused back on the food. “Yes dear?” He asked as he put the lid on another container.

You replayed the sentence in your head before you finally spit it out, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice, saying it exactly how Wooyoung had taught you.

Seonghwa whipped his head back to you, his face instantly going red and his eyes going wide. Wooyoung covered his mouth as he tried to keep his witch cackle laugh silent.

Seonghwa’s instant reaction was to ask you “When and where did you learn that?” but he saw his son dying of laughter out of the corner of his eye, so that answered his question immediately.

So your moment of pride for making Seonghwa blush was short lived as he smirked instead, and said something equally seductive in Korean back to you.

At the time, you had no idea what he said. But his voice was deeper when he spoke Korean, so his voice still sent chills down your spine and all over your body regardless.

He could’ve told you he was going to take the trash out and you still would’ve been flustered from his voice.

Seonghwa winked before he took the food and put it into the fridge, walking away. He was planning to tell you what he said later, when you two were alone, but Wooyoung beat him to it.

Wooyoung ran over to you, giddy and excited, laughing as your face turned redder and redder.

“He said ‘You better keep that promise’.”

The fireplace roared as snow sprinkled onto the Earth outside. The only light in the living room came from the fire and the fake candles Seonghwa had strewn around the room, illuminating you and Seonghwa’s bodies. You were laying on his chest between his legs, your arms around his waist, his arms tightly holding you to his chest.

Wooyoung had, once again, left you two alone for the night. He’d shown himself to his room after Seonghwa had suggested making hot cocoa for the both of you and curling up by the fire.

And here you were, but the mugs of cocoa were forgotten on the coffee table as Seonghwa gazed down at you. You were now familiar with the look he gave you, his half lidded dark eyes and his lips slightly parted.

But he wasn’t rushing into it. He took one of his hands and cradled your head in his hand, his thumb stroking your cheek. You leaned into his hand and melted into his touch.

“What do you want for Christmas, jagiya?” Seonghwa said softly, barely above a whisper.

Honestly, you hated this question. Any time anyone asked the question “What do you want for Christmas/your birthday/any other gifting occasion,” you forgot everything you ever wanted in your life. And initially, your mind did blank.

But then you knew what you wanted, and you smiled warmly. “I’m happy with anything if I’m here with you and Wooyoung.”

“Anything?”

You were about to nod and confirm it, but then the blankness in your mind turned into an idea.

“Actually, maybe something I could bring back to college to tell people I have a boyfriend.”

Seonghwa’s eyes lit up and he smiled so big. “Your boyfriend?” You could see the light and adoration in his eyes. The pure delight, the warmth in his smile. He pulled you even closer than before, his lips hovering above yours.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the excitement spreading through your bones and lighting up your body like thousands of little pricks of electricity. Yes, he was your boyfriend. You wanted him to be your boyfriend.

And you said as much.

“Yes, my boyfriend,” you whispered, your eyes falling half closed like his. Seonghwa’s lips parted again as he pulled you just a little bit closer.

“Then do you know what I want for Christmas?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine again, and you gulped as you looked up at him for him to continue.

“I want you, gorgeous,” he breathed as he pulled your lips to his. You gladly kissed him back, the desire spilling over the rest of your body all over again.

Until you felt something slap your head.

You pulled back and went up to touch the spot that was slapped, and there was a plastic gift bow on your head.

And from behind the couch, Wooyoung popped up with a big shit eating grin on his face.

“Aww, you’re a cute little present,” he cooed, making his voice high and whiney and intentionally annoying.

“You shit,” you grumbled, yanking the bow off our head and throwing it at Wooyoung. He just giggled as he ran off to his room, satisfied with his mischief.

Seonghwa was giggling to himself as you sighed in frustration. In the back of your head, you were already resigning and thinking the moment was ruined and the tension was gone.

Until Seonghwa pulled you back and pressed a kiss to your cheek, and peppered kisses across your skin to your lips, taking his time until you were relaxed back in his arms. He smiled into the kiss before he paused and pulled back for just a moment.

“You are a cute little present, jagiya,” he whispered, and then held you tighter. “My cute little present.”

And as he kissed you again, with desire and need, the world faded out. All that was in your head was his words.

My cute little present.

Yes, yes you were.

You finished buttoning your coat as Seonghwa did the same, with a large black wool coat that went down to his sides. For the first time since you met him, he looked more masculine, wearing a tailored men’s suit.

It still gave you butterflies just like any other outfit he’d worn.

“Wooyoung!” He called out, grabbing his keys. “I’m going out, I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Wooyoung came into the room then, and he pouted when he saw you ready to go. “You’re stealing my friend?”

You looked at Seonghwa confused. You’d assumed he’d told Wooyoung, which is why you never said anything. But now you were surprised with the knowledge that he hadn’t.

“It won’t be long, we’re only going to two stores,” Seongha argued, reaching for the door.

“But you’re taking my friend.” Wooyoung whined again and stomped his foot like a child. By this point, you knew it was a joke, but you still felt a little guilty that your friend wasn’t informed that you were leaving with his mother.

“Again, nae sarang, it won’t be long.”

Wooyoung made another noise of anger before he stormed over and grabbed your arm, pulling you into a tight hug.

“They’re my friend before your date!” He yelled, squeezing you tight. You couldn’t help but laugh, especially when Wooyoung giggled too. But there was truth to his claim.

“I’m not arguing that,” Seonghwa continued, his lips twitching as he fought the smile that was forcing its way in. “But they wanted to come with me when I mentioned I was going out.”

You piped up next, looking at your dear, whiny, childish friend. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Woo. I promise I will next time.”

“No!” He cried again. “You’re staying with me! My friend!”

And with that began a wild chase through the extravagant house, with Wooyoung pulling you along through the halls and rooms with Seonghwa chasing behind. There were a few times when Seonghwa grabbed a hold of you, but Wooyoung would quickly snatch you back.

You were all laughing the entire time.

When you all were finally out of breath and laying across the living room furniture, Wooyoung admitted “defeat.”

“I guess I’ll let you go,” he panted, as if he was giving you permission. You laughed breathlessly as you sat up.

You knew he wasn’t serious, and that Wooyoung knew he didn’t actually own you and wasn’t actually giving you permission. But it all stemmed from one valid point he had.

They’re my friend before your date.

You’d been spending more time with Seonghwa than you had with Wooyoung for the last week or so. Usually, all three of you were together, and you found something to do. But you’d chosen Seonghwa more than your friend that brought you together.

“Can we hang out when I get back?” You asked as you looked at him. Wooyoung turned his head from where he was laying across the arms of a chair across from you.

He just looked at you for a few seconds. Then you saw the shift, and he realized that you understood the whole point. He smiled so big, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yeah, of course. We’ll play some games and maybe annoy Eomma.”

“Are you sure that’s a pastime you want to add to your list?” Seonghwa asked, getting up from his spot on the couch. Wooyoung just smiled at him as he always did. Seonghwa sighed as he looked at you. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”

You nodded as you stood up with him, and Wooyoung waved you both good bye. He made sure to watch as Seonghwa’s car drove away before he grabbed his phone and went to his contacts to find San’s name.

“Is that the last of it?” You asked as you wrapped up another glass bowl full of food for the party the next day.

“Yes,” Seonghwa said as he nodded. “I’m going to clean up, and then we just wait for tomorrow.”

“Finally.” Wooyoung sighed as he put some of the dishes into the dishwasher. “I think if I look at any more food, I’ll throw up.”

You shared the sentiment as you put the bowl into the fridge, You’d spent the last few hours prepping food for the Christmas party with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. You learned a lot about Korean food, which was a positive.

But as you flopped onto the couch in the living room, you wanted nothing more than to pass out and be done with prep work and chores for the night.

You could feel sleep pulling you in, and you were about to fall right in and sleep on the couch.

“Wooyoung, your mother is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Your eyes flew open.

“What?” Was all Wooyoung said at first. “Why, how does she even know?”

“She asked.”

“And you said yes?!”

You shrank back down on the couch, pretending you were actually asleep. You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, this conversation wasn’t meant for you to hear.

But getting up and leaving now felt a little awkward, and you knew you would’ve heard about it from Wooyoung tomorrow.

“She texted me asking if I’d seen you, because she hasn’t seen you since the school year started-”

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that.”

“Wooyoung, you can’t just ignore her-”

You heard something hit the counter. “Yes I can!”

“Wooyoung, stop cutting me off.”

Seonghwa’s voice dropped an octave, and you could imagine the look he was giving Wooyoung as he stared at him. You could also imagine the desperate look on Wooyoung’s face, and the helplessness he was feeling when he agreed to be silent.

“You haven’t told her why you don’t like her, you just stopped speaking to her. I don’t care who it is, Wooyoung, you can’t just drop out of people’s lives without an explanation.”

“She doesn’t deserve one.”

“I know she doesn’t deserve one, but you do.” There was a pause. “If you don’t, she won’t leave you alone, and if you don’t want her in your life, then you need to tell her.”

“She wouldn’t accept it.”

“And what if she does, Wooyoung? What if it works?”

“She won’t!” By now, Wooyoung was sobbing, his voice strangled, his words choked. “You know this, Eomma, she won’t! It won’t work!”

They both went silent, save for Wooyoung’s muffled cries, as you could imagine Seonghwa holding him tight.

Your nose burned and your throat closed up as tears formed in your own eyes. Your heart was pounding so hard, you could hear it in your head.

It was all too familiar. You swore you could remember thinking the same things. Having this argument with yourself for years before you went to college. Talking with your friends at the time about it, your family, and them telling you the same things.

But there was no monster in this world scarier than the beings who brought you into this world.

You got up from the couch and quickly made your way to the stairs, going to your room as fast as you could. You didn’t care if they saw anymore.

You buried your face in the pillows and cried. You cried in memory of your parents. You cried for Wooyoung’s pain. You cried because you knew so many others felt this awful pain.

And you’d lost the birth lottery. You were one of them. So was Wooyoung.

You’d fallen asleep at some point, who knows when it was. But at some point, you were woken up by Seonghwa and Wooyoung crawling into your bed with you. Wooyoung hugged you from the back, Seonghwa held you against his chest.

“What are you both doing here?” You mumbled, still half asleep.

Neither of them said anything. Either because they didn’t hear you, or because the answer was obvious.

You all were hurting in one way or another. And you all would be there for each other.

You closed your eyes as you leaned your head on Seonghwa’s chest, and laid your hand on Wooyoung’s. He shifted to hold your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing tightly.

It felt safe. It felt like home. Wooyoung felt it too. So did Seonghwa.

Whatever happened, the three of you would be together. You’d be safe.

Tomorrow could end any number of ways. But you all knew you’d be together by the end of it.

And no one on this Earth could take that away from you.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #best friend's mother

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denim-devil · 1 year

Text

Doggy Style | Douche!Steve Harrington x friend!M!Reader

💌 - After a squabble with his best friend and GF, Nancy Wheeler, the fresh cuts and gashes he became equipped with pushes him to break the boundaries between you and his internalised anger…

Warnings - Mentions of Violence, Angry!Steve, Rough!Steve, Friends to lovers??, NSFW, PIA, Spit as lube, Bareback, Doggy Style, Mean!Steve, Mentions of slurs, Lowkey pwithoutp

The punch was what started your upcoming doom, yet the slap from Nancy is what pushed Steve over the edge.

The squabble happened quickly, almost like a blur, blending in with the immediate backhand she delivered to his bruising cheek. You stood in place, stuck on the spot as if you were trapped within a glass box sinking into the depths of the sea, eyebrows raising at the situation at hand.

It wasn’t a shock, he had it coming, it was as if you noticed just how provocative he could be, bending his cold demeanour and impulsive personality into one, like an old piece of gum sticking to the bottom of a shoe.

You watch as Nancy scurries away, it was clear she was upset, knowing the group that currently rained the halls of Hawkins High as royalties of a long line of bullies had clearly changed the towns mind as a whole of her sweetness and the cliche teachers pet act she put on for performance.

The word “whore” was painted in a deep crimson red across the abandoned cinema which faced the busy highway had began to ruin her reputation, no reaction from Steve had led her away with tears rolling uncontrollably down her porcelain cheeks.

As much as you wanted to run after her, comfort her and tell her everything would work out after a couple of weeks, you couldn’t, the gravitational pull Steve had on you kept you on the same spot, watching the backs of Tommy and Carol walking away, giggling to one another, it was definitely Steve’s time to be kicked from his throne that he had owned since recess.

There he stood, small cuts littering his pale skin, one atop of his lip leading up just underneath his perfectly shaped nose an another which faded into the brunette of his right eyebrow.

Anger was written across the features of his bruised face, his head turning ninety degrees, slow and unsure wether or not to face you, uncertain on how you’d react to the dark glare he shot your way, like a maniac with a glock, prepared to use his poisonous tongue if you uttered a single word.

“What?”

He spat with vulgarity, his tone deep, full of gloom and crassness as if you were the cause of his downfall, his crash and burn like an unfortunate plain crash which he so happened to board.

You shook with anxiety, to nervous to even begin to speak never mind back chatting the current king of Hawkins High. The alley was silent, Steve stood with both arms hanging by his sides in defeat, his eyes still locked onto you like a sniper with it’s target.

You so happened to be in his view, the red dot pointed at the centre of your clammy forehead. It was inevitable, after the previous interactions between his so called friends and girlfriend, the anger he shone so brightly with like sunrise had wrapped around you like a thick blanket, creeping up and around your neck, almost suffocating.

“Steve-“

“Save it…”

He remarked quickly back with lack of refinement, intentionally setting it straight, letting you in on his current feelings which to felt heavy and uncomfortable, you were scared to say the least, just what did Harrington have in mind for you.

His patience weight thin with you and it was showing a little to clearly, his hands balling into fists, knuckles turning a shade of pale white, nails digging into the skin of his palms, he wasn’t going to do anything…was he?

“Why didn’t you have my back?”

His question stilled in the air like a muggy late night of july, rocking you to the core, unraveling each part of your mind and how you stuck in the same spot whilst Steve tried defending himself. No answer presented itself, only a shaken sigh rolling from the tip of your tongue.

He noticed how you had stepped back ever so slightly, your demeanour had changed, lacking confidence and stance which egged Steve on, pushing for the answer but also something that had lay dormant deep within him for weeks now, it slowly creeped it’s way from his chest downward.

“To much of a pussy to throw a punch? You seriously are pathetic aren’t you-“

Tears pricked the corners of the very eyes that still locked onto his dark hazels, watching as he marched towards you, closing in on you once you feel the cold brick of the alley’s wall against the small of your back.

He scoffed in your face, lips tugging up into a smug smirk as if achieved the very goal he was looking for, like a famous footballer making his debut on the field, finally having you backed into a corner with no escape.

You shivered, like a shadow he loomed over you, his presence almost as tall if not taller then himself, making the space between you both much smaller, pushing you further into the bricks that now warmed up to your sticky figure.

“Seriously? Not gonna bite back, your just making this easier for me”

You felt the flutter in the base of your chest bloom like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, heart beginning to race at the thought of Steve making a move along the lines of intimacy, it felt like a trick, dipping your hand into the mists of a candy bucket, searching for the obvious choice.

“Steve I don’t understand how I could’ve-“

Steve cut you off with another scoff, it was cocky and demeaning, throwing you off and turning the clogs in your head quicker as you tried to solve his made up solution for your absence.

“Don’t you think you should be paying me back for standing there like some freak?”

A single tear told it all to Steve, you were easy to wind up, to sensitive to even stand up for yourself. You caught onto what he had planned once he grew bored with dementing you, ushering out a breathed “fag” before rolling his tongue, his head dipping until his lips neared the shell of your ear.

“Even Nancy had the balls to do it, maybe you like this”

The tears grew heavy, washing away every piece of confidence Steve managed to break down, he resembled a wrecking ball, one swing and you could feel the crushing in every inch of your body.

“Please stop, I-“

Blubbering like a fish it what gave Steve the interest and intention of gripping onto your waist harshly, turning your body as your front faced the corroded gravelled pavement. Your back faced him which hid the travelling pink blush that ran from the base of your neck upward, towards your tear stained cheeks.

The silence grew thick, not as thick as the tension that stunk out the secluded alley way that began to get dingy from the lack of sun, secreting you both even more. The lack of comments but the scrambling of his hands unfastening the front of your denim jeans made you question what was in store.

“Didn’t take you up for being such a slut”

He spat with vengeance, pushing down the band of your jeans, white boxers following as they feel to pool around your ankles like a puddle, the cooling air hitting the damp skin of the two pert globes that had Steve almost salivating at the sight.

He took a second to himself, revelling in the sight of your new profound immaculacy, almost losing himself as he was daunted with the realisation of his actions, his motive still was unclear to you but you could only dream of what he had planned.

The stillness triggered a sharp huff from you until you heard the crumbling of stones underneath trainers notifying you of movement. A sharp smack rang throughout the desolate alley, his palm landing flat against the centre of your left cheek which forced your body forward into the brick, knocking the wind from your lungs.

The whine that followed suit attracted another smack, this time to the right, it stung like an angered wasp, a marking of fingers and a palm bloomed across the skin of your backside, growing into small bumps yet it wasn’t hard enough to break skin, it was hard enough to force your back to arch, presenting yourself perfectly for him.

A low “fuck” grumbles from his chest, forcing it’s way into the air and through the small holes of your ears. His motive began to grow clearer once another smack atop of the markings forced a yelp from you, eventually breaking the skin, a small welt appearing, filling with crimson blood.

“Please stop, can’t handle it-“

You quipped back between short breaths, it wasn’t the truth, you wanted, no, you needed more. Your cock jumped as the thought of Steve using you for his pleasure, more so then the previous anxiousness that prepared you for his current onslaught.

“You can, you will- having way to much for this to end, come on, you can handle more right?”

A mopy, struggled “yes sir” rumbled from the depths of your slowly dipping chest, earning yet another smack, it was softer, as if he was testing the waters, hearing the quiet whispery moan you released on impact, his smirk grew smaller, his mouth growing slack as he began to show interest, changing the dynamics swiftly.

“Say it again, louder”

Once more, a soft smack and rough squeeze to the back of your thigh automatically forced out a shy “yes sir” which gave Steve the answer had been searching for.

“Atleast your good for something, just a dumb little fag, all splayed out for my use, and my use only-“

Wiggling back only enticed him further, drawing him in like a hunter to it’s prey. That’s when it began, the obvious unzipping of trousers cut through the heavy lingering of sexual tension, the crumpling of boxers following suit an an eventual wet thud, the moist tip of his cock meeting the hairy skin of his abdomen.

Eyes travelled up the centre of your arched back, the view was something to fawn over, his cock aching with want as if it had a mind of it’s own, although this isn’t the first time Steve has thought about you inappropriately.

“Your loving this aren’t you?” He whispered gently yet sternly, copious amounts of pre dribbling from the tip of your cock, joining the dusty pile of rocks littering the hard ground beneath you. He took note, keen on the idea of touching you.

But he held back, instead he brought himself back, taking a few awkward steps, his trousers restricting his foot work as he waddled closer until the heavy weight of his dick rested on top of your ass.

You nod in return, both quick and suggestive. It felt like an eternity before Steve began to massage the spongy wet tip against the puckered skin of your entrance, swiping each bead of pre back and forth, up and down.

wiggling once more against him grants the a boost of confidence, rebuilding what Steve diminished back up, pushing back against him, relieving the ache running from base to tip.

“Fuck- you want it don’t you? Needy little fag”

His tongue was sharp, cut you deep in ways that had you clutching onto the wall, hands flattening against the coolness as you spread wider, giving him the chance to prod the tip against your quivering hole.

He slapped his cock twice against, the lewd wetness ringing out into the quiet nights air, he dipped every so slightly before pushing in to your surprise, the burn from just his thick tip entering you leaving you no choice but to get it over with, stilling once you relax, giving him the power and control to push past the resistance the ring of muscle once held strongly, now weak against the raw intrusion.

The bones of your knees grew weak, legs wobbling, trying the very best to hold yourself up, ears catching onto the dirty words Steve spat as he sank in slowly, each inch adding fuel the burn which grew like a brewing fire, rapidly.

A hand brushes past his v-line. You push back in his abdomen wanting the tingling pain to stop, it resembled pins and needles digging into your skin, jabbing at the warm velvety walls of your insides.

His own hands managed to restrict your movement, caging both hands together behind your back leaving you with a sense of vulnerability, now growing stronger by the second.

“Gonna take it fully okay, no pulling out or pushing me out, gonna take me fully, fuck-“

Words were no forte, especially when his cock took control not only over your mind but the sentences you tried to string together, eyes now languidly rolled back into your head as he lay still, fully sheathed inside of you completely, the set of heavy and full balls he adorned now rested against the cleft which separated each cheek.

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen, got me balls deep inside this little ass of yours”

He huffs once pulling back, watching each inch slip from your hole, the tip now present against your clutch. He toyed with his cock, giving each cheek a slap before sinking back in with ease.

A few raspy “fucks” slip from his open mouth once he sets the thrilling pace, each plap and thrust of his hips railing through the empty alleyway, sounding out into the quiet streets.

Steve had no remorse behind his movements, his wants clear with predatory intentions and his instincts pushing you further into the coldness of the brick-layered side wall, increasing the arch of your back into a slanted curve.

His access was much easier, his pace increased, ravenous and body shaking which had your limp cock weeping and leaking. He took pleasure in watching you crumble beneath him, taking all of his length each time.

“Fuck- already so close, so much better then Nancy shit-“

Each prod of his spongy, angered tip against the small bundle of nerves tucked deeply inside had you seeing stars and the once clear vision you were acquainted with now fuzzy and distorted as you accepted the fate you were sealed with.

“Steve- please I can’t take anymore”

You choked out a sob once the coil snapped, each glob and shot of thick clear liquid splattered against the wall, dribbling onto the gravel below. Steve could feel it, how you fluttered harshly against his achy, twitching cock.

“So good for me shit- knew you’d take it for me”

He mumbled low and thickly into the shell of your ear, his hands now holding you still as he hammered against your red-raw backside. He was chasing the glory and bliss he so craved.

Now flaccid, you felt every jump from the way his cock crammed itself fully inside and up against the spot that had you fumbling for forgiveness, it was to much yet not enough.

“So tight- gonna make me cum, need it-“

He wasn’t far behind, stilling behind you as he fell limp against your damp back, his cock jumping as each rope painted your insides, his groans almost animalistic like a dog in heat, pushing what he had to offer deep into your freshly filled gut.

“Fuck yeah-“

It all made sense, the closeness, the douche like persona that riddled his body which protected his feelings and thoughts, the way his hand’s softened on your hips, how he kept himself flat against you, how the wet trail of kisses from the dip of your back to your neck marked the very moment he allowed himself to be truthful.

This wasn’t about revenge, this was about claiming something that so happened to be his, that happened to fall in line.

“You tell anybody about this…you won’t make it to next summer”

The threat lingered like an unwanted piece of meatloaf, stale and fragile, he felt like the fork that pierced the thick lump, essentially playing with his food, still keeping it on his plate.

He pulled back slowly, his cock now soft slipping from you with a wet pop, the load he planted so deeply dribbled out downwards, leaking onto the back of your abuses thighs.

“I-I promise”

You mumble back quickly, no second thought behind it. Steve wouldn’t do that, deep down you both knew he was to scared to become what he truly desired, yet he still clinged to the title he had been given, his popularity and his harshness. Although, the title has friends had clearly changed.

“That’s good- get dressed okay, don’t want people to see what I did to you”

Secretly, Steve wanted to boast, wanted the whole world to know, wanted to see you every sunday night just to fuck you over and over…was he committed to the thoughts that ran through him like a bullet train…?

#male reader #x male reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x male reader #smut #douche!steve #idk what this is #enjoy <3

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lucylannister13 · 1 month

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what are you thinking, finn wolfhard?

everything i'm about to say aligns with my finn wolfhard is a genius agenda.

it was just made apparent to me that not only did finn wolfhard film it 2017 before season two, but he filmed his scenes as boris in the goldfinch literally DAYS before filming season three. this is extremely hard for me to conceptualize. but it also makes me think about finn wolfhard himself who obviously knows the truth about mike wheeler's sexuality. if byler is as deep seeded as we want it to be, odds are that finn knew what was up from the beginning. which makes a girl think- did he know the same about richie tozier when he first played him in 2017?

lets look at richie a bit.

richie is obviously gay. i will not be taking arguments on this. i'm reading a reddit thred right now where people are debating it and i'm like- are you kidding me. but he wasn't gay in the source material. stephen king has stated as much in a vanity fair article. though he calls andy muscetti's choice "genius" (which it is, btw), he makes it clear that it wasn't his intention. it's explicitly clear in it chapter 2, and being wired like a byler shipper, i was able to suss it out in the first movie, but was that andy muscetti's intention to begin with?

there are many ways this change can be interpreted. assuming that it wasn't something that was explicitly written into the original character description for richie in the first movie, you could see this as something that was put in as a sign of the times, a statement if you will. it chapter one was written in 2015-2016 while we were still under obama's presidency, one that saw drastic improvements for the quality of life of a gay person in america. it chapter two was written during trump's presidency and could have been trying to brand itself as a statement of sorts. i only say this because as far as i can find (and PLEASE tell me if i'm wrong) there wasn't nearly as much evidence hinting at richie's sexuality in the first movie as there is for mike or will to use a relevant example.

the idea that finn wolfhard could have gone straight from it filming (summer of 2016) to stranger things filming (early november 2016) just having played a character who he knows was in the closet and in love with his best friend in the 80s could open up new interpretation to mke in season two. oddly, the reason i bring this up is because richie tozier to me is the mirror image of a kid i was friends with in middle school. they acted the same, they even weirdly looked and dressed the same. the only time i've ever made the comparison between middle school kid and mike wheeler was during season two, specifically in the scene where max leaves them the note, which leads me to believe that he could have carried other things over from other aspects of the it production.

season two isn't what really concerns me though. i'm looking more at season three. the goldfinch only moved to production in albuquerque in april of 2018, which is obviously where finn wolfhard filmed all of his scenes. however, stranger things 3 started production on april 23rd, 2018, which means there might have even been crossover between finn's shooting dates if not at least a very short gap of time between them. it chapter 2 was filmed that same summer likely with some of it's own crossover with stranger things three dates. finn wolfhard's lack of scenes in the second movie are probably what made this possible, but the scenes that he did have tackled very delicate topics that had to be handled with care. most actors get their scripts for minor roles like this a few weeks out from filming, which means that finn could have had his scripts for it chapter 2 that very explicitly make it clear that he's gay during filming for stranger things 3.

so here he is with one gay character right before season 3 and one right after. he knows how to handle these things, which means that every move he's making, especially in season three, is most likely intentional, especially if he knows this far in advance about mike's sexuality. i think it's totally feasible that he does. i'm fifteen and i understand what was happening between byler during the fight scene, finn was sixteen and, being a part of this show, probably understood what was going on too even if he wasn't outright told. doing justice to a season like this when he was also having to figure out scenes like the boreo taxi scene or the arcade scene with henry bower's cousin or r + e was probably at the forefront of his mind.

in conclusion, i just have one question:

what does this mean, finn wolfhard?

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things 3 #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #richie tozier #the goldfinch #boris pavlikovsky #boreo #reddie

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sapphic-coded · 1 year

Text

I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Violence. Some gore. Language that Cap wouldn't approve of. Reader is a messed up assassin. Minors DNI

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: Welp. Here's my first fanfic on tumblr. I only have one chapter written, but I'm hoping my muse will stick with me so I can turn this into a series. This is lightly edited. I apologize in advance for any mistakes you come across (and you most likely will). Minors, please do not interact. Please do not copy/steal my work. Enjoy!

Chapter One: I Thought You Died Alone A Long, Long Time Ago

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992

The silence that filled the car wielded a tension you were all too familiar with. Your father’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel he gripped. A deep frown pulled at his lips while his cold, steel gray eyes stared straight ahead behind a pair of thick, dark framed glasses. His usual tamed black hair was a mess with strands of hair shooting out in random directions.

Sitting next to your father, up in the front passenger’s seat, was your older brother. He was a tall, skinny boy who had just embarked into his teens. His blonde hair was parted down the middle of his head and reached the tips of his ears. His navy blue eyes stared out the passenger’s window. His lips were pressed tight. There was so much he wanted to say. If you guys were anywhere else, perhaps he wouldn’t hold back.

Sitting next to you in the backseat of your father’s station wagon was your older sister. She was a year younger than your brother with her long brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Her head was bowed, and her brown eyes were glued to the pages of her book. She was skinny like your brother, but her body was already beginning to shift into adulthood. She had started growing breasts last summer.

You were the youngest. You had recently celebrated your tenth birthday. You were skinny like your siblings, but still very much a child. Your green camo jacket felt heavy. You were all dressed alike: green camo jackets, dark green shirts, green hunting fatigues, and heavy brown boots. It was the outfit you always wore during your hunting trips with your father.

Your brother reached toward the car’s radio. Your father’s hand released its vice-like grip on the steering wheel and slapped down on your brother’s hand. You heard the loud smack, and your brother quickly snatched his hand back.

“I’ve had enough of your nonsense.” Your father’s voice rode a current of anger that popped the tense bubble of silence.

“I just wanted to listen to music,” your brother shot back. “Sitting here in silence is boring.”

Just like that another argument between your father and brother started up. You looked over at your sister. She was very much focused on her book. Your attention drifted over to your window. You did your best to tune out the argument happening up front while you watched the scenery of trees roll by. Eventually your gaze dropped to your lap. You stared at the dried blood caked around your fingernails.

“...pointless and–”

“You are cowardly and weak!”

You can’t believe the weekend is almost over. You had spent the whole weekend out hunting with your family. Your father had parked his station wagon in a lot and marched you all out into the woods. You all had spent the whole weekend laying in the cold mud. It was your brother’s hunt. You were all following his lead. Which meant mostly laying in the mud and following tracks every so often. This weekend was supposed to end with your brother’s first kill. Instead, it ended differently.

The engine of your father’s car stopped as you reached your house. The argument between your brother and father had ended, but you cannot recall when. You undid your seatbelt and opened the car door. The moment you stepped out onto your driveway, your attention landed on a moving truck parked across the street. A man and a woman were busy unloading boxes out of the truck and carrying them into the house.

You noticed something else. A girl around your age with blue hair came out of the house and walked down the driveway towards the moving truck. Her pace slowed as she noticed you. You lifted your hand in a small, friendly wave. A smile had started to curl at your lips when your father’s voice called out to you. You turned away from your new neighbors and found your father standing in the garage with his hunting rifle hanging from his shoulder. You made your way up into the garage where you felt your father’s hand fall gently onto your shoulder.

Amsterdam – 2010

You hate these jobs. Long relentless days spent circling your target. Never able to strike just yet. You had to put on a show first. Pretend to be their friend, or a business partner, or their lover. You had to act as if your target was important in some flimsy life you threw together. Your kills were always messy at the end of these jobs. You can’t help it. You just want the stupid job to be over.

And it almost is. You have spent the past four days pretending to be your target’s bodyguard. Four days spent following your target around. You dealt with their problems and waited for the day all your targets would be together in the same room. Because the job wasn't just to kill the target you were pretending to protect. Your target and their friends had messed up. They had pissed off the wrong people. You were there to clean up the mess.

Your target had set the long awaited meeting to take place in a fancy hotel in the middle of the day. The guest list for this meeting would be short. It included your target and you, his business partners, and their private security. The meeting wasn’t scheduled to take long. It was supposed to be a simple transaction. An easy exchange of goods and money. The details of that particular transaction did not interest you. Your interest lingers on your plan to take out all your targets.

The dark brown shoulder holster that you wore over your white, button-up, collared shirt held one of your favorite guns. There was nothing overly special about it. It was a standard, black 9mm Beretta handgun. It was reliable in nearly all your jobs. It was your favorite because it had been your first gun. A present from your father. It marked the end of your training and the beginning of the rest of your life. If your job was to take out just the one target you had been following around, then the choice would have been easy. But the job required the elimination of all your targets. Since the other targets were bringing their own private security, once you made your move you would need to finish the job quickly.

But the job didn’t specify that the kills had to be quiet.

You pull on your gray suit coat. Your shoulder holster disappears from view as you stand before the mirror and button the coat. Matching gray trousers cover your legs and the black flats you wear bring a smile to your face. This job was almost over and soon you would be busy getting yourself as far away from here as possible. Hence why you chose the flats over heels. You run your hands down the length of your suit coat to smooth out any wrinkles. Your hair is pulled back into a professional, tight bun. Your right hand dips into one of the suit pockets. The pad of your finger brushes against the small, round marble nestled within.

When your target is ready, you follow him out of the hotel room he rented and down into the hotel lobby. You follow him across the spacious lobby and into a large boardroom. As the door clicks shut behind you, your eyes survey the room. A long mahogany table commands most of the space within the room. Situated around the table were identical black office chairs. Far more than necessary for this meeting. Sitting in four of the chairs were your four other targets. Standing behind each of your targets were their own bodyguards. Sunlight poured into the room from the floor to ceiling glass windows that ran along one side of the room.

You follow your target over to one of the chairs. He takes a seat and you stand behind him. Your gaze briefly returns to the other bodyguards. All tall, imposing looking men. They stand as still as statues, and you wonder how they do it. Do they enjoy following around power addicted fools? You spent four days with your target, and you can’t wait to kill him.

“Where’s Tyler?” your target asks as he settles into his seat.

“Running late,” your other target answers.

You tune out the insults your targets direct towards the currently absent Tyler. Instead, you wonder what this peaceful boardroom will look like in the next ten minutes. Or however long it takes for Tyler to show up. There will definitely be blood. Broken glass was also a given. You doubt the chairs will make it. The hotel will definitely need to buy a new table. But you wonder if you’ll get a chance to see their faces. Just one. It’s the part that fascinates you the most. Your target’s last moment etched across their face. It reveals so much.

The door to the boardroom opens and the conversation shared between your targets dies into an awkward silence. You turn in time with everyone else as Tyler steps into the room alone. The first thing you notice is that he is sweating. A lot. In his shaking hand he holds the handle of a briefcase. His free hand raises up and he runs his fingers through a disheveled mop of dark hair.

“Sorry about the wait,” Tyler says.

“Jesus, Tyler,” your original target replies. “You look like shit. Let’s just get this over with so we can all go home.”

Tyler nods and hurries over to the table. He sets the briefcase down and opens it. One of your other targets reaches into their coat pocket and pulls out a brown wrapped parcel. The size and shape of the parcel is clearly money. With everyone’s attention on Tyler and his suitcase, you causally unbutton your gray suit jacket.

“Just so everything is clear,” your original target addresses the others. “You give us that.” He gestures to the suitcase. “You take the money, and we don’t hear from you ever again. You don’t mention us and we don’t know you. You don’t come looking for this because it doesn’t exist.”

Tyler nods.

“We still haven’t discussed how we are dividing our profits,” another target says.

“We’ll discuss it later,” your original target replies.

As the conversation shifts into another argument, you decide that this is as good a time as any to wrap things up. All your targets are in place with a few bonus players. It is time to put these boring four days behind you. As your hand moves towards your pocket, you spot one of the other bodyguards quickly lowering his head. His hand lifts up to press against his ear. You still your movements as you watch the other bodyguard.

“We just lost our comms,” the bodyguard’s voice cuts through the argument.

Your hand abandons its journey towards your pocket as your original target turns around in their seat to look at you. The question written plain across their face is one you can’t answer. Maybe if you had any comms to worry about then you could make a solid guess as to why they are suddenly down. But you don’t. And while you have no interest in who the new mysterious player is, you do get the sense that maybe you really should wrap this up. Quickly.

You mimic the other bodyguards as you reach for your gun. Your fingers manage to brush against the holster’s leather before a faint beeping sound pulls your attention over towards the door. Something small and metallic rolls out from underneath the door. It rolls across the floor towards you and your gathered targets. You can barely make out what it is from where you are standing, but the quickening frequency of the faint beeping causes you to turn away from it.

The white light that explodes from the weird object swallows up the entire boardroom. You close your eyes as the explosion drowns out the shouts from the other bodyguards. Your ears are ringing when you open your eyes. The shouts from your targets are muffled as they all scramble from their seats. The wall of glass windows shatters as men in black tactical gear attached to wires swing into the boardroom. The bodyguards who had managed to pull out their guns immediately exchange gunfire with the uninvited tactical team while your targets scramble to avoid getting hit.

Well, you hadn’t planned to end this job on a neat and tidy note. Things were about to get really messy.

You pull your gun from its holster and aim it at the first tactical newcomer that pointed their gun at you. Your finger squeezes the trigger, and you watch with satisfaction as their head snaps back from the bullet barreling through their forehead. Their body goes limp and drops. You spy one bodyguard already dead with their chest riddled with bullet holes.

A second tactically geared newcomer turns their attention to you and is quick to fire. You quickly duck underneath the fancy boardroom table. Bullets from your enemy’s gun rips through the wood above you. You take aim at the guy’s leg and fire. The guy’s cry comes through crystal clear as he drops to his knee. You can’t fight back the smile that curls your lips as you maneuver your way out from underneath the table and fire off another round where you’re almost certain his mouth is.

Another bodyguard has joined the other dead one on the floor while the others corral your targets behind them as they continue to exchange gunfire with the uninvited guests. Except, Tyler darts out from behind the weakening wall of bodyguards and rushes towards the bullet ridden table. He snatches up the briefcase and hurries towards the door. The other targets hurl curses his way as you lift your gun and aim at the back of his head. You are about to pull the trigger when the door Tyler reaches flies open into him. Tyler stumbles backwards, trips over his clumsy feet, and falls backwards. The briefcase slips from his grasp and slides across the floor and stops at your feet.

Your attention, however, is not on the briefcase. It’s not even on Tyler who is groaning and still alive. Your eyes are glued to the person who steps through the doorway and into the room. You recognise her face immediately despite her red hair. It’s long and tied back away from her face in an intricate braid. The black catsuit she wears bears the symbol of SHIELD on her shoulders. The identity of the tactical newcomers pales in comparison to the way her olive green eyes widen slightly in recognition. Old memories, so long buried that you are shocked you can even remember them, creep in. The gun in your hand never wavers as you find your old friend at the business end of it.

“Y/N.”

If there were any doubts, her voice banished them. It’s her.

“Put down the gun.”

It’s as if a floodgate has opened. The memories are countless despite the fact that it had only been three years. So old and forgotten that they feel new. They smother the job that has taken up residence within your mind. You’re here to kill your targets, but all you can think about is the last time you saw her. How abrupt her departure had been. You remember your father’s rants about her family.

Slowly, you lower your gun. She takes a step forward. Tyler’s groans stop, and he lifts his head up. He reaches for the briefcase at your feet. You point your lowered gun down towards Tyler’s head and pull the trigger. Your friend’s advance stops as blood and pieces of Tyler’s brain paint the floor and the briefcase red. One target down.

The smoke pours from your gun as you gauge her reaction. The recognition you saw earlier is gone. Her face is a mask, and the frustration you feel is so familiar.

The last of the bodyguards drop and your remaining targets are completely exposed. The remaining tactical guests close in on your targets except for one who breaks off and starts towards you. You ignore the orders the man shouts at you. Instead, you kick the blood and brain matter stained briefcase underneath the ruined table. You start to raise your gun, but the tactical guest already has his finger on the trigger. He fires and you are quick to dodge out of the way. The bullets dig holes into the wall behind you. You kick one of the office chairs at the man. It collides into him and he stumbles back. You raise your gun again but the moment you squeeze the trigger, your legs are swept out from underneath you. The bullet you fired finds a home in the ceiling as your back collides with the ground.

Before you can move, a weight settles on you. Hands pin down yours. Strong legs straddle you as your friend’s face fills your vision.

“Stop, Y/N.” There’s more force behind her words this time. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

You almost laugh. Almost. Maybe if your job was done then you could have spared a moment or two to revel in your friend’s joke. But you were dangerously close to losing control of this job. You pull your legs up and manage to throw your friend off of you. You roll onto your knees and go to stand when the man you had kicked the chair at slams the butt of his gun into your jaw. Your head snaps to the side and blood fills your mouth.

The childhood memories that have been distracting you vanish as you spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. The man turns his gun back around to point the barrel at you. Your hold on your own gun remains firm as you look over your shoulder towards your friend. She’s on her knees as well, but that is all you are able to make out as you quickly drop back down towards the floor. A small, short bluish bolt flies barely an inch over your head and lands on the guy who hit you. Blue strings of electricity wrap around his chest as he drops with a shout.

You scramble to your feet and head for the door. Your hand digs into your suit pocket and your fingers close around the small marble. You can hear your friend catching up to you as you pull the marble from your pocket. Your thumb presses down on the miniscule button barely noticeable to the eye. As you quickly near the door, you drop the marble. It rolls towards your remaining targets. The moment you make it out of the boardroom and into the lobby, you feel her hand close around yours. You yank your hand hard from her grip and turn quickly while raising your gun.

You find yourself staring down the barrel of her gun. A smile creeps onto your face as you hold your gun steady. Unfortunately, your friend doesn’t find this amusing.

“Put down the gun.”

“You first, Nat,” you reply.

Her gun stays pointed at you when it finally happens. The boardroom explodes into a hot, blazing ball of destruction. The force of the explosion sends both of you flying further into the spacious lobby. You both hit a fancy looking pillar before dropping with a hard thud to the ground. Despite your body’s screams of protest, you are the first to climb back onto your feet. You look down as your friend starts to move. Still alive. Your gun feels heavy in your hand as that single thought runs laps through your mind. For the first time in a long time, you feel excited.

“Sorry, Nat,” you say as you slide your gun back into its holster. “Gotta run.”

You leave her there and make your escape. Slipping away from the scene that has now drawn a crowd is as easy as breathing. You hardly think about it. And with nobody chasing you, it’s almost painfully easy. But the further away you get, you know that’s not entirely true. She isn’t chasing after you now, but she will. You hope so. You miss your only friend.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #my fanfic #fic: i swear that i don't have a gun

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winterrrnight · 10 months

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BESTIE, CONGRATS ON 300 !! i’m so freaking happy for you. you deserve this so so much 🤍. i’m so in love with all of the fics you’ve written so far.

i’m here to request: meet me in the hallway. choose out of drew, rafe, & zach + a prompt.

ofc i’m gonna choose my bby zach with #29

i luv uuu 🤍

thank you so so much anna!! I love you so much, thank you for all your love and support <3 this request has me on my knees with how cute it turned out to be, I hope you love reading it!

a beautiful, drunken mess

PAIRING: zach maclaren x gn!reader

SUMMARY: your best friend needs to call your knight in shining armor when you get a little too drunk

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption

EDITH SPEAKS: OH MY GOD yes we're kickstarting my 300 celly fic requests!! I've gotten so so many requests and I swear I'm so excited to write each one of them. I got late to starting on these because my hectic schedule and my writer's block got the best of me, but I'm back :))

Please reblog if you liked this!! feedback is always appreciated 🫂

PROMPT REQUESTED: "you sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?" "of course."

300 followers celebration || navigation

You've never been one to party hard and get so drunk you can't see clearly in front of yourself. But when you finally pass some of the toughest exams you've ever had to give, you knew you wanted to party till you can't breathe.

And that's what you did. The biggest frat party happening in a rich kid's home from your university has adrenaline coursing through your veins as you don't think twice before taking a shot.

In fact, you got carried away so much, that your best friend Tessa who is literally known to be the biggest party animal in your whole university, is concerned for you.

"Give me that," she grunts, taking the millionth cup you were about to down. You pout, trying to get it back, but the alcohol has made your mind all fuzzy and you aren't very sure what exactly you're trying to do.

"Who knew you had this hidden side?" Tessa says, shaking her head as she takes your hand and leads you out to the garden of the big house. You try your best to stop her from dragging you, but your drunken power is no match for her quite sober one.

"Tess come on! I'm not done yet," you huff, your arms crossed across your chest as you see Tessa is basically blocking the door.

"Nuh uh, not today," she says, pulling out her phone. "You need to get home, like right now,"

You groan out loud, and you attempt to simply walk on the lush grass you're both standing at, but you greatly miscalculate your steps and fall on the grass, head first.

Tessa rushes up to you, asking you over and over if you're okay. You just look up at her and start giggling constantly.

"I'm okay," you say in between your giggles, your own mistake having you amused. Tessa sighs at you and quickly finds the contact in her phone she was trying to find, before you decided to take a fall.

She impatiently taps her foot, waiting for the person who's supposedly on the end of the phone to pick up.

"Hello?"

Finally.

"Zach hi!"

"Tessa, you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need you to come and get your... thing," she says, looking at you lying on the ground and looking up the stars as you hum to a melody.

Zach laughs on the other end. "What happened?"

"Too drunk, can't even see straight," Tessa groans. "You need to come over right now."

"I'm on my way."

Tessa lets out a sigh of relief on hearing those words. She turns towards you, and lets her hand out for you to grab onto.

"Come on, Zach is coming to pick you up," she says, helping you stand up, in a not so graceful fashion.

Hearing the word 'Zach' lightens a light bulb in your head. "Zach? Where's Zach? I need my Zach," you slur, trying to run around the garden, as if he's standing right there and you just can't see him. Tessa has a hard time but she finally catches up to you, firmly grips your hand to make sure you don't run off and do something stupid again.

"He's coming, okay?" She huffs out, holding onto you tightly. She's expecting you to throw some sorts of tantrum, to complain how your boyfriend actually is here and she's just hiding him on purpose, but instead, you only nod obediently.

Tessa hears footsteps approaching you both, and just as she turns around, she swears she could've have cried out of happiness.

Zach is standing there, looking at the two of them with a smile on his face.

"Zach!" You yell excitedly, as you run (or, try to run) to him. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Hey baby," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you on your lips. You sigh at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, your eyes fluttered close and a million butterflies prancing around in your stomach.

"Thank you Tessa, we'll be going home now," Zach acknowledges the girl standing at the back, letting you both enjoy your moment. She nods with a smile on her face and goes back inside to the rest of the party, and Zach leads you back out to his car.

He definitely has a struggle settling you in the car seat and buckling your seat belt, as you've never been this drunk before and it's also his first time taking care of super-drunk you.

But, he doesn't hate it or finds it to be a difficult task. You're sitting in the seat next to him, saying little cute things that have his heart racing.

"You're so cute Zach, you always take such good care of me," you pout, poking his bicep. He laughs at you, and you continue to praise him.

"You're just," you sigh, "perfect. I couldn't have someone as perfect as you."

You definitely weren't aware of what you were saying, but Zach knows you being drunk isn't the only time you'll say these words to him. You love to constantly drop little phrases to let him know you do appreciate him and every single thing he does for you.

Both of you being relatively a new couple, it does take a big toll on you both because you aren't used to saying or listening to such kind words so often, but you both also know you wouldn't want to share this with anyone else.

"We're home," he looks at you with a smile on his face, as he gets out of his car, runs up to your side and helps you out. With an arm looped around your shoulders to help you maintain your balance, he leads you in to your home.

He takes you in to your room, and gently lets you lay down on your bed. It's a bit of a struggle, but he finally gets you to remove your outfit and replace it with a more comfortable one.

"Thank you Zach," you say, as he tucks you in your warm duvet. He leans in to press a kiss to your nose, and makes a mental note to leave a glass of water and an advil on your bedside table before he leaves.

As he is about to walk out, you call him out and stop him from leaving.

"What happened?" He asks, his hand on the light switch.

"I, I need Arlo, can you find him please he isn't here," Zach is confused on hearing these words, but when he sees tears starting to brim in your eyes, he knows this Arlo is important.

"Arlo? Babe I'm afraid I don't understand," he asks you, walking closer to you.

"Can you check under the bed please?"

Zach isn't sure what he's looking for, but he'll do anything for you. He leans down on his knees and looks below the bed, and of course, he makes out a silhouette of some stuffed toy under the bed. He reaches his hand out to grab onto it, and when he sees it, he realises he knows exactly what it is.

For one of your first dates, Zach took you to your local city carnival. He was determined to get you a good toy from any game, just like any good boyfriend would (his words, not yours), and after loads of struggle, a lot of pennies and many comforting hugs and words from you, he finally wins you one.

It's a little brown colored dinosaur stuffed toy, and Zach had no idea how attached you would get to it.

"You sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?" He asks, handing it to you as you take it and brush off the dust off it.

"Of course, I love it," you smile, tucking in the dinosaur with you. Zach can't help but give you another kiss, gently caressing your cheek as his lips trace yours.

He leaves the room to get the water and the pill, and when he comes back, he sees you already passed out. Arlo is tucked safely under your arm, and Zach knows he can watch this for hours on end.

Because you're his beautiful, drunken mess, and he wouldn't want you in any other way. (Well, maybe not this drunk, but you know what he means.)

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

#zach maclaren #zach maclaren imagine #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren fanfic #zach maclaren fluff #zach maclaren fic #the other zoey #zach maclaren x gender neutral reader #zach maclaren fanfiction #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x yn #zach maclaren oneshot #written by edith! 🪄#edith's 300 followers celebration! 🪄

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hlficlibrary · 7 months

Text

HL Fic Library 💙 Disabled Character Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

✨ Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction {E, 153k}

There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.

Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

✨ And What If I Were You by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 109k}

For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him?

For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart?

And can they find their way back, before they lose each other forever?

A story of love. A story of loss. A story of fighting for each other, no matter the odds.

✨ We're What's Right In This World by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite {E, 48k}

“Why did you talk like that in Brighton? If you weren’t planning on ever telling me?” Louis asked. “Is it because you think you’re going to die?”

“It’s war, Lou,” Harry said finally.

The words were a knife slipped between his ribs. Everything hurt and he was bleeding. He shifted up, his palms cradling Harry’s jaw, his lips against his boy’s. Not kissing, just resting there, so Louis could feel him. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Harry’s hands smoothed down the sides of Louis’ body. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll never lie to you.”

“Promise me. We’re going to have our cottage. And our dogs. And our breakfast in the garden where nothing grows because of the wind from the sea. Promise me.”

“I won’t.” Stubborn as always, his boy. “I’ll promise you, I’ll love you all my life. I’ll promise you, you’ll never leave my thoughts. I’ll promise you, you’re my forever and my always. But promising you something I can’t cheapens the things I can.”

Or the World War II AU where Harry goes off to fight and all Louis wants to do is be the boy who brings him home.

✨ Seeing Blind by zedi {E, 46k}

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

✨ It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 45k}

Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.

✨ fondre ton absence by @scrunchyharry {T, 41k}

Harry had never really given much thought to the future. He preferred to let life steer him forward and to follow in the footsteps of Louis, his best friend from as far as his memory went, his lover, his everything. Louis knew better than he did what was good for him.

It changed drastically when Louis was ripped away from him, drafted and sent to the front to fight in a war that Harry had always been sure would never reach him. Too young and too sickly to follow, Harry was left on his own for the first time in his life.

When he thought things could not possibly get worse, Louis went missing at the Somme and was declared dead. While everyone buried and mourned him, Harry never moved on. If Louis were dead, he was sure that he would know it. Their lives were too entwined, he would know if half of his heart had died.

Determined to find Louis, Harry did everything he could in his quest to be reunited with him, except prepare for the state Louis might be in.

He did not prepare for the harsh truth he would have to face: was love possible without memories?

✨ Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 {E, 30k}

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

✨ my strange girl by curlockholmes / @dykesteddie {E, 30k}

Harry works in a cafe kitchen; making bagels, snarking with Zayn, and generally trying to exist as an autistic girl working in hospitality.

Louis is the captain of the local women's rugby team who takes a shine to her.

✨ To Give You a Hand to Hold by gettingaphdinlarry {NR, 26k}

When he spoke again, Harry’s voice was low. “Ever think of how many birthdays they don’t get?”

Louis avoided Harry’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Martinez was what, nineteen? Missed a good sixty of them.” Harry took the last of his cake and passed the plate to Louis. “Figure sixty missed birthdays each. Just on our side. How many is that?”

Louis used the edge of his fork to scrape frosting off the plate. “Never thought about it.”

“What would your shrink say?”

“‘Focus on the positive.’”

Harry ran a hand over his head and scratched the back of his neck. “How’s that working?”

Marine Louis Tomlinson is medically discharged when an IED explodes in Afghanistan. Months later, he's reunited Stateside with his Navy medic Harry Styles. The two of them shelter each other even as they refuse to admit they're in the throes of PTSD, until one night nearly destroys them.

✨ the dead things we carry by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics {M, 25k}

September ‘49 He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out.

This is the man who saved Louis’ life.

For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.

“Louis,’ Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight.

This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.

✨ Don't Act Like It's a Bad Thing to Fall in Love by nightwideopen / @themarshalstale {G, 23k}

Louis was born blind, completely blind, leaving him with nothing but the absolute blackness that his lack of vision produces.

Harry, on the other hand, is deaf. No sound can be registered by the two tiny ears his rowdy, chocolate curls obscure so well.

The first time Louis and Harry meet, it’s sort of an accident.

✨ the sanctity of patience by @scrunchyharry {T, 22k}

When young Lord Harry was chosen by King Louis of Bavaria to become his husband and prince consort, Harry thought all of his dreams had come through. His illusions came crashing down when he understood it meant living in isolation in the alpine castle of Neuschwanstein with a husband who turned out to be far from what he had hoped for.

His illusions vanished, Harry will have learn to appreciate what has and even, perhaps, fall in love with his imperfect husband and his castle.

✨ some evening in springtime by delsicle / @eeveedel {M, 20k}

Fresh out of veterinary school, Louis moves to a sleepy small town in Texas to take over the local animal clinic. But his new life is quickly interrupted by a middle aged rancher with a bad leg and a mysterious past, who really needs Louis's yoga skills.

✨ Blind Faith by @2tiedships2 {M, 18k}

“Harry?” Liam prompted.

“I’m blind,” Harry eventually said, trying his best to keep himself from crying.

Liam was silent for a few moments, before responding, “That’s not exactly news, H. You were blind when I met you a year and a half ago. Have you been in denial this whole time or something?”

“No, Liam,” Harry cut in. “This is different. I’m not legally blind like I used to say. It’s not just my night vision. The tunnel from my tunnel vision has closed. I’m fucking blind! I moved halfway around the world in the hope of finding my soulmate and it’s obviously not happening now. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not even a soulmate is going to want to put up with a blind alpha."

✨ Our love is special because it's you and I (series) by sweetkisses {NR, 11k}

"So what are you studying?" Harry asks.

"Accounting." Louis says quietly.

"Sweet. I don't know much about accounting but I do know that it means you must be pretty damn smart." Harry says nodding his head.

"Thanks." Louis giggles out and Harry didn't know it was possible for him to be more beautiful. "What, um, what are you studying?"

"Law." Harry says and lays his legs out in front of him as he places his hands behind him and tilts his head towards the sun.

"You must be pretty smart if you're studying law." Louis mocks with a smirk. Harry didn't expect the next words to ever come out of his mouth but this boy just does things to him.

"Two smart people make a genius couple."

or the four times Harry sees the beautiful boy in the wheelchair

✨ Heart Eyes by @snowy38 {E, 10k}

He fidgeted nervously, long fingers pushed through his soft fringe, fingertips lingering on the thick curls that he felt formed there. He hoped his hair looked okay. He hoped he looked okay.

He hoped-

“Oi oi!” Niall’s loud, Irish voice cut into the small space along with the loud chatter of the party; the door assumingly opened. He swallowed.

“Fuck off!” A northern accent complained; the sound of bodies wrestling before it went quiet again; the clunk of the lock confirming to him that his suitor was now locked inside.

Harry knew the voice. He knew. And if he hadn’t known the voice, he would have known the smoky, sweet scent of the boy before him. Seventeen years old, friends since they were eight, and they’d never been pushed into the kissing cupboard together before.

✨ Deep Within The Mystery of Your Eyes (I Am Home At Last) by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey {M, 10k}

It's a world where you discover your soulmate after skin contact and finding your world exploding in colour. Louis has been blind his entire life. He makes do quite well, thank you very much, and he's glad that he doesn't have to see colours fade in and out of his world. Harry trains disability dogs, and, during a chance meeting with Louis at a local market, he discovers that Louis' his soulmate. He comes up with a wild scheme - train his current dog to be the perfect dog for Louis - in order to keep Louis in his life, and maybe convince him they're soulmates.

✨ the pain never leaves, but neither do you. (series) by Anonymous {M, 10}

Harry has fibromyalgia and Niall is an idiot, leaving Louis to bump into Harry at 6am in a hospital corridor. It ends up as something much more wonderful than Harry ever could have expected, stood with a walker in his ratty PJs after a nasty flare-up, and he finally finds someone who can love him just the way he is.

✨ I Roll 'til I Change My Luck by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus {T, 8k}

Dating is hard enough when you're gay. When Louis reveals to his Tinder matches that he uses a wheelchair and has a service dog, things tend to get even more complicated. Too bad the guys on dating apps aren't as sweet and understanding as his best friend Harry...

✨ Struggle by @1diamondinthesun {NR, 3k}

Louis had accepted long ago that he would always be alone in the world. Yet he often wondered what defined us as people: the cards we’d been dealt, or how we played them to survive.

Or, Louis is living with a chronic illness and growing tired of going it alone.

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