Tumgik
#indi finally answers something
industrations · 7 months
Note
i love your tattoo’s for sirius. i know he has tattoos for remus, but does he have any for cassie?
I haven’t drawn them on him yet but i like to think that at some point sirius comes home and he finds cassie drawing on the wall like a bad girl, but when he looks at it, it’s a big wolf, a black dog, and a tiny baby wolf running together. And he just melts and can’t be mad because she drew their little family.
So eventually he gets it drawn by a professional and gets it tattooed
171 notes · View notes
theflyingfeeling · 2 months
Note
hiiiiiii, can you imagine Olli and Allu having had brainstorming sessions together, where Olli showed Allu some of the outfit designs and Allu showed Olli some tracks he'd been working on? They would compliment each other all the time because they're secretly crushing on watch other and they'd blush hard with every compliment and and and 😭😭😭😭💘💗💘💖💘💖💘💖
(because I'm imagining it right now and it's so fucking sweet)
have a lovely weekend, love youuuu 💗💖💕💖
listennnnn 😭😭😭😭 I bet they do that, I bet they get so excited for each other about their projects and always want to hear the other's opinion on what they're working on 🥺💞
I'm also imagining them living together as boyfriends (or husbands even 😭) and just working on their own projects and minding their own business but still doing it together and suggesting stuff for each other and djlfjsljfdjfldkf how cute would that be 🥺
have a great weekend, lovely Luna!! 💕
7 notes · View notes
klausinamarink · 2 months
Text
based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now
read on ao3
“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.
Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”
“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”
“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.
“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.
“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.
Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”
Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”
Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”
Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.
Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”
“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.
“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.
“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.
“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.
Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”
Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”
“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.
“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“
“Car accident.” Robin interjects.
“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”
There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”
Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.
After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”
Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”
Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”
The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”
Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”
A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”
“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.
Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”
“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”
“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”
“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!
“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.
Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”
“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.
Oh. 
Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.
“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!” 
Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along. 
Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage. 
By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend. 
“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.
Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.
Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.
Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.” 
Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.” 
They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.
“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”
Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”
Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”
Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”
“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all. 
Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.
“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.
“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.
“But why did you forget that line?”
“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”
Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”
Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.
1K notes · View notes
undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months
Text
I am massively busy with work and finalizing my Big Bang, but this idea just won't leave...
Steve and Eddie are both actors. They're in their mid thirties, well established, but they never starred together in anything. Steve tends to be cast in the same type, the dumb but pretty love interest, Eddie has lots of indie and disturbing movies under his belt. But this time, they both landed something big.
They get cast in the new Batman movie.
Steve is, of course, Batman. He insists on doing his own stunts. He refuses to get dehydrated for his shirtless scenes because he knows how damaging it is to both young men and women alike, he's not going to contribute to shitty expectations. The director (Dustin, duh!) sees something in him other directors never have - a potential for depth, for internal turmoil. He gives Steve the chance to prove himself as an actor and Steve pounces on it.
He's still very hot.
Eddie is cast as the Joker. He is a fan of the comics and scoffs at how absurd and deranged the character is becoming. He gets hired because he immediately says he doesn't think the character needs to rely on cheap tricks and shock value to be terrifying. Cutting off his face? Not cool. He suggests to play the Joker according to one of the older comics he has - one where the Joker is actually absolutely sane, but hides it to never be held accountable for his actions. The only person who ever saw through his ruse was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Joker took care of that issue very quickly.
The chemistry between Steve and Eddie on screen is insane. They go toe to toe, it's impossible to look away when they interact. Eddie utilizes his bright smile to the maximum, tweaking it just right within moments so it becomes unsettling. The first time he laughs, Steve gets goosebumps.
Steve encompasses Bruce's loneliness so well Eddie's heart breaks for him. Dustin finds him in the trailer, giving himself gentle slaps over the face and muttering "you're evil, damn it, you don't want to comfort the Bat!!".
Batgirl (Robin) and Harley Quinn (Chrissy) find their slow descent into love hilarious. They all become good friends on the set.
Hopper, an acting veteran who plays Commissioner Gordon, grasps Steve's shoulder after an intense fight scene and mutters: "Good job, Steve, but maybe don't stare at his lips so much?"
Robin doesn't give him the same courtesy and once Dustin yells "Cut!", she screeches: "NOW KISS!"
The movie is a hit. People love the cast and the story, some of the OG fans complain as they always do, but the ratings are great, there are many interviews, panels, all of that.
And of course, there's gossip about Steve and Eddie being a thing, which enrages the macho Batman fanbase. Their Batman isn't gay!
But the rumors quickly disappear after an award ceremony where Eddie is nominated for the best supporting actor. He wins, of course. And as he gets up to accept the small statue and deliver a speech with enough "fuck"s to give the censor a headache, he drags Steve up and kisses him in front of the whole world.
A week later, Steve and Eddie are together in front of a camera again, answering questions in an interview.
The host asks: "What do you say to those fans that are disappointed, who say that their Batman isn't gay?"
Steve just snorts, pulls Eddie closer and answers: "They're right. Their Batman isn't gay. But he's definitely bi."
Also the comic story I'm mentioning exits and is short but fantastic. 10/10 recommend.
Oh also. The first spark happens when Steve sees Eddie's hair and blurts out: "Please tell me they're not making you cut it shorter. It's too gorgeous for that."
Also because people were asking about the comics - it's Batman Black and White - Case Study and it can be found on Tumblr HERE
1K notes · View notes
imfinereallyy · 1 year
Text
hummingbirds
Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.
“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.
Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.
“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.
“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.
“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.
Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”
Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”
Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”
Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”
“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.
“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”
“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.
He is.
“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”
Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.
“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.
“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”
Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.
“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.
“Harrington.”
“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.
“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.
“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”
“He what?”
Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.
“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.
Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”
Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”
Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”
Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”
Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”
“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”
Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”
“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.
Eddie relaxes but only slightly.
“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”
“Stevie…”
Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”
“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.
“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”
Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”
“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”
It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.
“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”
Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.
“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.
Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”
“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.
“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”
Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.
It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.
Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”
Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”
Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”
Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”
Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”
“I—“
Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.
“Home?”
“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”
Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”
Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”
Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”
Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”
****
I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡
4K notes · View notes
marriedtobigfoot · 1 year
Text
Robin is positive that Steve isn't straight. At first, she thought she was projecting. Maybe she just wanted to share another aspect of herself with her best friend, but no. She's very confident now. The way Steve acts sometimes makes it so obvious. He's listened to her talk about how scary it is, being a lesbian in a town like Hawkins, and he talks to her about it like he undertands, even if he doesn't realize it. She roped him into watching a movie with a gay couple in it, and Steve's eyes lit up seeing two men kiss on screen. He once cracked a joke about going on a date with a guy that sounded far too sincere to be a joke. She knows, deep in the depths of her very soul, that Steve is a little bit queer.
And she could prove it if she could just figure out what his type is
She's been doing research, real genuine research into what male celebrities are considered hot. Finding movies with said supposedly hot men and making Steve watch them with her. But there's nothing! No reaction, not even the slightest blush when Harrison Ford was sweaty and shirtless right before his eyes. It isn't until she gets him to watch Rocky Horror that she finally catches something. Tim Curry in all his fishnet-clad glory brings a flush to Steve's cheeks. One that gets even worse when the character dons a leather jacket halfway through. It isn't much, but it's enough.
She mentally tallys everything about Tim Curry in that movie. Dark eyes, curls, makeup, tights, and especially the leather. She tries not to get her hopes up too high, knows that Tim Curry was wearing feminine clothes and makeup in the movie, so maybe Steve was just thrown off and confused, but it's a start at least. She makes a new list of movies, and pays close attention to his reactions.
The real breakthroughs come with The Lost Boys and The Breakfast Club. Lost Boys had been planned, one of her choices designed to illicit a response from Steve. Lots of pretty boys, some with dark curly hair, some with big dark eyes, and quite a few wearing leather jackets. Steve had been interested, that was for sure, a lot more than he had in the other movies she'd shown him. The Breakfast Club was a surprise. It had been one of Steve's picks, and Robin hadn't even been paying close attention. But it was impossible to miss the way Steve's eyes shot to the screen every time John Bender was speaking.
So, Robin has an answer. Steve Harrington liked bad boys. Men with dark hair and dark eyes, clad in leather with attitude for miles. Not what she had been expecting, but she's delighted, to say the least.
The delight only grows when Eddie Munson comes into their lives, and she gets a front row seat to Steve Harrington's Big Gay Meltdown. Eddie ticks off all Steve's boxes. Dark curly hair, big brown doe eyes, leather and denim from head to toe, and he has the attitude. But he checks off other boxes too, ones Robin hadn't even realized existed. He checks off the 'great big nerd' box. Because when she thinks about it, yes. Steve surrounds himself with exclusively nerds. He checks off the 'good with kids' box effortlessly, to the point that Robin almost screams when she hears Steve telling Nancy about his six kids and a winnebago dream, because Eddie basically already has part-time custody of Steve's weird gaggle of gremlin children. He tickes off the 'queer as fuck' box too, if Robin's judgement is any good, and she was pretty sure it was. The bandana in his pocket seems like a pretty good sign, if the zines she had smuggled on a family trip to Indy were to be trusted.
Eddie Munson is perfect for Steve, in every way possible, Robin is sure of it. So needless to say, shes thrilled when Steve finally, FINALLY pulls her into the crappy little bathroom at Family Video and asks her how she realized she was gay. This is going to be the start of a beautiful little journey for them both, Robin is going to welcome it with open arms.
Part 2
6K notes · View notes
ozzgin · 4 months
Text
Yandere!Monster x Reader [Asylum Spider]
A/N: This feels a little bit strange to post. It's an older OC (the drawing I used is like 3 years old) I had for a horror manga. I thought it would make a good yandere if you're into actual monsters. And the atmosphere is a lot like an indie horror rpg. :)
You wake up in a damp, dark room with no recollection of how you ended up here. Hovering above you is a repugnant beast whose appearance terrifies you into silence. Yet it doesn’t attack you. Quite the opposite, it seems to want to guide you outside. You must escape quickly, as whatever lurks above causes the creature to squirm in fear. Yet as departure approaches, a desire blooms within its ancient heart: must you really leave it behind?
TW: Monsters, horror, implied violence/abuse
Tumblr media
Your vision is blurry and your head is throbbing with a harrowing, unbearable headache. You've been awakened from your unexplainable slumber by cold yet burning drops of liquid hitting your cheek at irregular intervals. You squint and try to focus on whatever lies before you. Slowly, the object becomes sharper and your eyes widen in terror. Drooling above you, a monstrosity. It looks almost human. Sharp, curved teeth are grotesquely gawking their way out. The skin is discolored, similar to the blueish tint of someone struck by hypothermia. The creature seems to be wearing a strange sort of straight jacket, tightly securing the arms and ending in a shredded rag, dangling between the skinny, crooked legs. Yet the most disturbing feature are the massive arthropod appendages that fan out from behind, suspending the abomination above ground.
The ridiculous, offensive sight drains the blood from your face and you hold your breath. You wait for the final blow that never arrives. It lowers its head and inhales deeply, trying to detect if you're still alive. Satisfied with the answer, it scurries aside and leaves you enough space to lift yourself up. The wide smile remains plastered on its face, making it look like a deformed mannequin. With nothing left to lose, you decide to risk it. "Can you talk?" you mumble, unsure about the potential response. It shakes its head in denial and you raise your eyebrows. So it can understand human speech.
You stand up and look around. There's a pungent smell irritating your nostrils, and large pipes slither their way over walls and ceilings in a maze of rusted metal. The floor is flooded and your ankles are sunken in murky water. Above the only door hangs an old plaque, eaten by mold and age. "W∎ter & Drain∎∎∎: Pro∎∎rty of ∎∎∎∎∎ Asylum". Ah. This must be the sewers, then. How did you even end up in the sewers of an asylum? Maybe someone upstairs can provide you with answers. You turn to the creature that has been obediently observing you.
"Can you take me to the main building?"
The humanoid spider screeches and trashes its appendages across the water. You jolt and step back instinctively. Is it mad? Have you upset it somehow? No, if anything, it looks afraid. You stare at its bizarre convulsions until it occurs to you the movements aren't quite as erratic as you assumed. It is drawing something using a swamped patch of ground.
Don't let find you Get out
You're choking with dread again. The ominous words send a cold chill down your spine and you shiver, helpless.
"How am I supposed to get out if I don't know where the exit is?" You demand with your last ounce of energy. 
It wobbles its way towards the door, and stops to face you expectantly. Is it offering to guide you? You're not quite sure whether to trust the ghoulish creature, but the rotting room is filling you with panic. 
Anything is better than being alone here. 
What a suffocating atmosphere. The corridors are tall, narrow and black. You can barely discern anything around you and the only sounds are the ghastly echoes of the metal creaking and bending from the water pressure. That, and your uncertain steps across the muddy flow. You glance at the creature. Its eyes are covered by a leather blindfold, so the darkness mustn't be an impediment for it. Then again, how can it tell its way within this colossal labyrinth?
"Is this where you live?" you whisper, trying to make conversation. You need something to distract you from your pounding heart.
It nods hesitantly. 
Your foot hits something and you instinctively attempt to kick it off. Perhaps some algae that begun developing in this forgotten grave. It seems to have wrapped around your ankle, so you bend down to remove it with your hands. It's a soaked sheet of paper. The ink has mostly diffused into the page, but you can still read some of the larger headlines. "Dozens have disappeared. The mystery of the abandoned Asylum, believed to be haunted by the countless victims of horrid experimentation". Next to the title is a photograph too smudged to make out.
You stop in your tracks, focused on the blurry letters. The monster patiently waits for you. Is it something to be asked? You gaze up at its features, trying to take in the details. You take a deep breath in and open your mouth. 
"Did they...um...do this to you upstairs?"
It seems to ponder your question with the same unfaltering grin that now feels painfully forced. Finally, it nods.
What a strange little creature you are. He returns your curious stare. Now that he thinks about it, you must be the very first person to follow him. When was the last time he spoke to another living creature? He can't remember. The others would panic beyond control at the mere sight of him, blindly running away and getting lost in the sewers. Later he'd find their bodies quickly decomposing under the running water, and he'd dispose of them outside. No one deserves to die here. The really unfortunate ones made it upstairs, into the asylum. He'd rather not brood over it. 
Yet here you are, asking questions and walking alongside him as if you were on a stroll. He doubts he's gotten less hideous over the years. Then again, he can't see to confirm. Just as he can't see you. Despite his lack of vision, he is overwhelmed by the feeling that you're a beautiful being. You must be. And thankfully, you won't have to worry yourself with any of the horrors lurking these cursed grounds for much longer. He'll help you escape.
Then he'll be alone once more. It shouldn't bother him this much, it's always been like this. But meeting you has reminded him just how much he missed the presence of another human, how dearly he longed for a kind voice. Is it selfish to fear isolation? 
"Oh! You're right, I can see a gate from here." You exclaim in gratitude. 
You sprint towards the rusty bars and feel a cool breeze against your skin. This must lead outside. The creature has kept its word. Soon enough all of this will be a nightmare of the past.
"I-" 
The monster seems to be making an effort to speak, but all that comes out is a dissonant croak. You're confused and he can sense it. 
Must you really leave him behind? He needs to let you know that he'd like to stay with you, but his throat is contracting pointlessly and there's nothing he can use as a writing surface. What is there to do? His chest is tightening with the frenzied desire to keep you with him forever.
Please don't leave him.
1K notes · View notes
fandsart · 1 year
Text
Steve and Nancy's relationship didn't work out because they had different wants and needs so when Steve starts dating Eddie he tries really hard not to have wants and needs of his own. Knowing that Eddie didn't reschedule Hellfire for Lucas doesn't help with this.
He goes to a few metal concerts even though he always gets migraines the next day from the volume, he lets Eddie talks about all kinds of nerd stuff even if it makes him feel stupid when he can't keep up.
It's not even like he's dragging Steve into things that are actively detrimental to him all that often. Just a couple activities things a week. But Steve also feels the need to hide some of his own interests, knowing that Eddie hates them.
Not that he doesn't love being around Eddie, but now that they're dating he's hardly not around, and it's hard to find time to keep up on the teams that Steve roots for. But it's... it's fine. He's happy with Eddie, so he can make the sacrifice to hide these parts of himself. It's fine.
Eddie doesn't realize this is going on because he's aware that he's pushing Steve out of his comfort zone, what he isn't aware of is how Steve far out of his comfort zone he really is, and how he doesn't want to bother Eddie with it, afraid they'll break up over it.
Then he slips up, just a little bit, when Eddie invites him to a concert on the same day he plans on watching a game. This isn't even the first time this has happened, but Eddie usually gives him more of a heads up for this kind of thing. He thought he was close enough to the date that he wouldn't have to worry about it getting disrupted, and it was a pretty big game, so his disappointment is higher than usual.
Eddie is talking about a metal band and is going on a small ramble explaining the context of where they sit in the metal scene.
"And they have a concert in Indy tomorrow," he grins, "and I really want to take you."
"Oh, I was gonna... Yeah, we can do that."
"You were gonna what?"
"It doesn't matter. It's stupid."
"Steve, it's not a big deal. It's not like I'm taking you to a Dio concert. These guys are actually pretty small and relatively local. I'm sure we could catch another one, it would just be kind of down the road."
"Eddie it's fine. We can go to your concert. Whatever you want."
Eddie gives him a look. "I don't want it to be 'my concert.' If you wouldn't enjoy it, I wouldn't want to just be dragging you with me. And I don't want it to be 'fine' I want it to be enjoyable!"
"I enjoy spending time with you."
"Ok, so what were you going to do tomorrow?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Obviously it does!"
They're fighting and this was exactly what Steve was worried about. If Steve could have just gotten over himself, cut the bullshit, they wouldn't be fighting right now.
"Eddie, it really doesn't. Can we just go to the concert and forget about this?"
"No. If you don't want to go, you don't have to."
"If I don't go, will you go without me?"
"Unless you don't want me to."
"I want to go with you, wherever."
"Ok, you know what, I just remembered I actually have to help Wayne with something on tomorrow."
"No you don't. Look, I wasn't gonna do anything. Can we please just go to this concert you want to go to?"
"Look, I have to go to school. I'm already over 2 hours late." With that, he's out the door.
↞⬡+¤+⬡↠
Steve's not sure what time the concert was even meant to be at, but if he could just get a hold of Eddie and convince him he wants to go, maybe they won't miss it. It's already fairly well into the afternoon and he hasn't heard from Eddie all day.
The first few times he calls, there's no answer, but when he finally gets an answer it's Wayne that picks up.
"You almost missed me," he says. "Make it quick, I gotta to get to work."
"Is Eddie there?"
"Nah, he should be in Indy by now. Did he not tell you? There's some concert down there."
"Yeah, I, uh... Thank you Mr. Munson."
So Eddie went by himself even though Steve told him he wanted to come, and he'd pretended that he didn't even want to go.
Steve watches his game that night, kind of miserable and guilty. He debated not watching it, almost as a point of honor, since he lied to Eddie and told him that he didn't really have anything planned today. They'd both lied about their plans last night and Steve is so ready for Eddie to come back and say that he had a much better time without Steve and it's time they go they're separate ways.
His team loses and he falls asleep on the couch soon after, the tv still playing in the background.
He wakes up in the morning to a knock at the door. Eddie stands on the other side.
"Hey, baby. Did I wake you up?"
"Um... yeah." He wants to bring up what happened yesterday, that Eddie went without him, but he's afraid it will just make things worse. He obviously wanted to go without him if he did so, and bringing it up might just start an argument about how Eddie doesn't need Steve's permission to do things (and he doesn't) reinforcing why he didn't want Steve to come in the first place. He wants to stay with Eddie forever and he's worried the relationship is starting to fall apart. "It's fine. I should be up by now anyway."
Eddie hums almost suspiciously. "Can I come in?"
"Of course." He moves out of the way.
"'Whatever I want,' huh?" he asks, as he walks through the doorway.
"What?"
"Nothing. We'll talk about it in a minute. A few things first. Come on." He drags Steve over to the couch. "So what did you do yesterday?"
"Tried getting a hold of you, mostly."
Eddie chuckles nervously. "Sorry. But did you do whatever it was you planned on doing before?" Steve tenses just a little bit. Is Eddie going to accuse him of choosing baseball over their relationship? He kind of almost did when he first opened his mouth after Eddie first suggest the concert. Is he going to call him out for that. "Relax baby, you don't even need to tell me what it was, as long as whatever it was you were doing wasn't a person."
"No, never!"
"I know, Stevie. I know you're history; I know you would never do that. So I'm not upset. So did you carry out your plans, whatever they were?"
"Yeah. It was disappointing."
"Well, I'm glad you did what you wanted anyway. And since you were busy and couldn't come to the concert, I went and brought you back a tape." He pulls a cassette tape out of his pocket. "You obviously weren't going to admit you didn't want to go, but I still wanted to share this with you, so here. This is yours."
Eddie's more attentive to when Steve seems hesitant to do something after that. Eventually Steve gets comfortable enough to bring up where his reservations stand regarding a lot of these things. Eddie switches up how he talks about his interests, trying to make it more coherent and gets Steve earplugs for concerts. He encourages Steve to talk about his own interests, even when Eddie doesn't fully get the appeal himself. He can go a little outside of his comfort zone too. For Steve, it's always worth it.
4K notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 30 days
Text
fooling ourselves
for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'fool' (don't you worry folks, i plan on being a fool and doing the silly prompt too)
454 words | rated t | no cw | tags: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, first kiss
🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡
Steve was fooling everyone.
At least, he hoped he was.
He might be failing.
Steve practically begged for time alone with Eddie. It was embarrassing.
It's just that in the group, Eddie was loud, put on the same show he always did at school, in the hospital when he was recovering and trying to keep smiles on everyone's faces. He fooled everyone except Steve.
When they were alone, Eddie was more reserved, thoughtful, touched him more.
Steve was touch starved, okay? Every time Eddie placed his hand on his knee or ran a hand through his hair, it was like an electric shock jolted his body to attention.
He wasn't looking further into it.
Except for when he did, which was nearly every night over the last two weeks, right after Eddie had told him that he started seeing someone in Indy.
In the moment, he congratulated him, asked a few polite questions that any friend would, and found a reason to go home.
He'd avoided being alone with Eddie ever since.
Actually, he'd avoided Eddie entirely until today.
The kids were having a movie night and attendance was mandatory.
The movie was scary, something he knew he couldn't watch, but showed up for anyway. Robin made an excuse for him to sit outside, said he'd been dealing with a migraine all day and the flashing on the screen wasn't helping.
He owed her.
The Henderson home had a small back porch, but it was the perfect place for him to sit and get some fresh air, clear his mind from the thought of Eddie sitting inside. He'd been with Frankie all day.
That got shut down, but probably wouldn't be for much longer, not if they got serious.
"You okay out here? Need a drink?" Eddie's voice shocked him from his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh. I'm fine."
"Robin wanted me to come check on you. Said you wanted to talk to me?" Eddie sat down next to him on the back step.
"She did?" He apparently had not fooled Robin.
Eddie nodded.
"Oh. I'm good."
"Really? So you wouldn't care if I said I'm not seeing Frankie anymore?"
Steve turned to see a shit-eating grin on Eddie's face.
"You aren't?"
"Nah. I think I liked the idea of having a boyfriend more than I liked him."
"Oh."
"I think I was really just trying to move on from someone else."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, kinda failed at fooling myself, though."
Eddie's hand settled on Steve's thigh.
"How's that?" Steve asked.
"This guy I like, he's kinda new to this. I finally realized I'd have to be the one to make a move."
"Yeah?"
Eddie's answer was a soft kiss to his lips and a whispered, "yeah."
627 notes · View notes
sunnymoonxx · 11 months
Note
can you write something like hobie ‘using’ reader (consensually ofc) and degrading her? no pressure if it’s too much :) thank youuu 🩷
cold rings | hobie brown x fem!reader
Tumblr media
pairing: hobie brown x fem!reader
summary: porn without a plot
warnings: degradation, objefixation (mentions of being used), rough sex, little praising, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kids), oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, hair pulling, teasing
author's note: First thing, I'd love to thank @hanasnx for correcting me and apologise for not crediting him first. I took a big inspiration from Indy's oneshot Moth To A Flame (Hobie Brown), and I definitely recommend you check out his blog out. I adore their writing <333
I solemnly believe Hobie is a sweetheart and a sub and loves to watch you do anything to him, but since he's a punk, there's a high chance he's into BDSM. Also, he was finally confirmed to be 20, so we're the same age woohoouu. Enjoy my try for a readable smut <333
m.list
Tumblr media
You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, shivering slightly as the chilly weather crept into your room, but the warm sunset light falling into your window provided some solace. You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, leaning your body towards the tall figure sitting next to you.
The spikes on his bracelet met your skin, cold to the touch as he wrapped his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You could feel his chin on the top of your head, pulling you closer to him, relaxing in his arms. He was warm, and the cold quickly left your body. You smiled, closing your eyes right before his hand slipped down your body to play with the hem of your tank top, twisting it between his fingers.
You couldn't bother to wear anything else than lavender-colored panties and a black tank top that didn't reach further than your ribs. You couldn't judge Hobie after he made fun of you for being cold. It was purely just your fault.
"Didn't Jess want us to be at the HQ by dusk?" You mumbled into Hobie's shoulder, carefully scanning his long fingers, now outlining the fabric of your panties, tickling your lower stomach.
"Prolly," he responded, you could hear him smiling while answering you. You knew Hobie for too long to know he doesn't do anything he's told to do. Unless it's you. Any words that come from your mouth, he is determined to fulfill. "Rather be with you, tho." Kissing the top of your head, his hand moved back up to sweep the hair strands falling into your eyes.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, lifting yourself on your arms to take a proper look at your companion. His legs manspreading on your bed like he owns the place, his right arm still laid out on the headboard, and a smirk on his lips. You had to hold back a smile, biting your cheek, and looking into his big brown eyes.
"Miguel will beat your ass," you uttered, sitting straight, your knees bent under you and touching his. "And mine." You added not amused by the boredom in his expression. You shared his annoyance towards the Spider Society, but you didn't want to get your ass beaten by a big-ass leader whose claws could tear anyone apart. You already tested his patience last time, and you weren't in the mood for another discussion of how useless you are.
"Babe, don't worry about it," He saw your smiley expression turn into a face of concern and decided to comfort you. He threw himself away from the board leaning towards you, grabbing your hands in his and caressing your palm with his thumb. "S'gon be okay and also, when did a little trouble scare you?" he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction.
"Never," you shook your head, adding a dramatic tone to your voice. You leaned to give Hobie a quick kiss on his lips before jumping out of the bed and walking around the room to find your suit. "But I don't wanna be sent home just because I didn't meet his stupid deadlines, Hobes." You spoke, bending down to open a box with your suit in it. Wrinkled and dirty from the last mission, you totally forgot to clean it. But this time, it was Hobie's fault after he dragged you into his place after you finished your mission to release some steam. He was partly the reason why your suit was torn up in certain places.
Hobie leaned back again against the headboard, arms behind his head as he enjoyed the view of you bending down, your panties barely covering your ass.
"I'll make you your own watch," he uttered, not taking his eyes off you as you turned around to face him, throwing your suit on the bed. "Let him kick you out, and we can visit each other any day." A smile played across his lips as he crawled to you, towering over you, and pulling you closer to him by holding your waist. You could feel his breath because of how close he was and his cold rings touching your lower back. You couldn't smile at his idea, lips forming into a light smile. You wanted to protest and say you can't afford it, but he shut you up by leaning into you, his lips meeting your ear. "I'd finally have proper time to take care of you," he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. Chills traveled down your spine as you heard his voice and the cold jewelry on his hands meeting your ass.
You couldn't help but moan at his action and be rewarded by Hobie's cocky smile and his hands traveling under your panties to hold your bare ass properly. As many times as Hobie touched you, it always felt like the first time. His long, slim fingers slid down your skin, playing with the hem of your clothes, playing with your hair, or fingering you while lying beneath him. You always ended up begging for more, and he devoured every sound you made.
Words began to form on your tongue but quickly again disappeared when Hobie attacked your neck and started leaving light kisses on your skin. You leaned into his touch, mind blank, forgetting about the suit ready on your bed, and Jess probably waiting for the both of you to show up. Now, all your thoughts were full of Hobie's lips, already on your collarbones, and his fingers still holding your ass.
"Hobie," a moan left your lips as he moved his hand up to pull away the straps of your tank top down your shoulders. He stopped all his movements, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. You bent down to give him a proper kiss, pushing him back against the mattress, your weight falling on his. Both of you let out a surprised gasp, his hands grabbing you more tightly than before.
"I'll stay," you whispered against his lips, lifting yourself to sit on your knees on his lap while he laid beneath you. You could see the sudden change in his face, a smile glowing on his lips. "But," He raised his eyebrows, confused and waiting for what you were about to say. His hands moved back to hold your ass, your already wet core so close to his reach.
"Remember last time? At the dorm?" you asked, hoping he'd remembered. But you doubted he would forget you beginning as he pounded into you against the wall and called you names, you'd be too ashamed to admit you like being called.
As expected, he tilted his head, scanning your face to find out if you were joking. When he decided you were not, he nodded his head. "Could never forget that," he joked, gripping your ass harder and pushing you against his growing crotch, gasp leaving your mouth.
You bent down, hands on his chest as you whispered against his full lips, your teeth gently tugging on his cold piercing. "I want you to do it again. Use me like you did back then." You closed your eyes as you felt his lips move against yours, his hands moving up to hold your waist.
"You sure?" he asked gently, wanting to know you're certain about your wish. You didn't waste any second and gripped his shirt, pulling yourself closer to his body. Hoping that serves as an answer.
You felt Hobie smile against you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate and fuller of desire. You needed to feel his touch, his tongue, his fingers, his cold rings against your skin.
"Hobes, please," you whispered as his hands slipped up your tank top, caressing the skin of your underboob, teasing you. Testing how much you can take. His other hand traveled from your waist to find your hair, pulling them down so he could have more access to your neck. You let out a moan as he kept pulling your hair, holding your head thrown back. His lips attached to your neck, leaving wet trails as he moved down slowly.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice deeper and more demanding. It made your walls clench over nothing. His hand under your tank top finally moved up, your hard nipple meeting his cold rings. You gasped, closing your eyes, digging your nails into his thighs. His thumb ran over your nipple while still assaulting your neck with painfully slow kisses.
"Touch me, please." You begged between moans before you felt Hobie's lips move away from your neck and let off your hair. His brown eyes, now darker than a few minutes before, pupils dilated, stared back into yours, a smirk playing on his face.
"Barely done anything, and you're so needy already." Tilting his head, holding back a smile. His gaze fell, where your crotch met his, thoughts playing in his head.
"Pathetic," he mumbled to himself before grabbing you by the waist and throwing you under him, your back meeting your soft mattress. Hair spread on the bedsheets; legs spread for Hobie to fit in between. Your tank top slid up, exposing half of your boobs and if Hobie looked down, he could've seen the wet spot between your legs.
"You look a fucking mess." You watched him draw his fingers alongside your tank top, moving them down to meet the lace of your panties. You waited patiently for his next move, moving your hips against his hand for some friction. But he caught your action and pulled his hands away. You rolled your eyes at the frustration, pushing away the desire to finish this by yourself. But you asked for this, and Hobie always respected your wishes. No matter how twisted they were.
"Hobie, please just," Your tone was filled with annoyance, which made Hobie laugh, admiring how needy and beautiful you were for him. Lying there, leg spread out, tits out, waiting to be fucked like a whore.
"I'm gonna do what I want," he grabbed your cheeks, eyes staring into your soul. "And you will take it." His dominant voice traveled straight to your core, wanting nothing else than to be filled by him. Nodding your head, you didn't protest and let Hobie place his fingers back on your skin, teasing you for minutes before his fingers finally landed at your inner thighs. You were now sure he saw how wet you are, dripping through the panties.
"Fuck," he let out a sigh when he saw the mess you made on your underwear. "You're so predictable." His laugh filled the room followed by a gasp when his fingers touched your clothed cunt.
"D'you like it?" He raised his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off of your cunt. You nodded to answer his question, gripping the bed sheet from the frustration you felt. If Hobie won’t pleasure in the next few minutes you swear you were going to go crazy and do it yourself. Your irritation wasn’t hard to see and Hobie decide to spare you from the torture. You could barely catch him kneeling and ripping of your panties, throwing them away to the pile of clothes from earlier days. Your wet cunt now revealed to him and exposed to the chilly air in the room.
“Fuck,” he breathed out his hands spreading your legs further from each other. You lifted your head to watch him, finding him laying between your legs and taking one of his bigger rings, holding it between his thumb and his middle finger. You were confused at first as to why he took it off until you felt him slide it down your dripping clit. The coldness of the ring sent shivers down your spine and made you tremble.
“Jesus, Hobie.” You gasped, his cold ring still touching your slit. Head falling into the pillows you let yourself relax while Hobie kept working on your cunt with his ring. You could feel his breath, his lips, and his tongue so close to your soaked clit.
Hobie liked seeing you struggle under his touch, but he couldn’t feel sad for torturing you, so he quickly pressed his lips against you, drawing a moan out of you. He could drown between your legs, thighs crushing him. As if you already weren’t a mess, he added a finger, circling your wet core to coax it to loosen. “When you’re away I daydream about this.” His deep voice sent vibrations through your cunt, making you groan his name out. He took advantage of you being distracted by his words to shove his finger inside of you, your moans spreading across the room. His tongue stopped the movements on your clit, quickly being replaced by his thumb. As much as he loved tasting you and devouring your cunt, he wanted to watch you quiver underneath him. Under his fingers. So needy to be fulfilled.
Adding another finger to stretch you out, you grab his arm to stable yourself as your eye roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by his finger pumping in and out of you. “Like it? Fucking your cunt with my fingers?” he asked, mockingly, smiling at you trembling, all because of his fingers.
“Yes, fuck.” You cried out, Hobie’s fingers speeding, curing inside of you hitting all the right stops. He was sure people outside the apartment could hear your cries, and he loved the idea of them knowing you were getting fucked and used by him. All his to take.
“So desperate,” he laughs at you, stopping his fingers but leaving them inside of you. Your head flew up, your face filled with confusion and frustration. You were so close, he could feel it, but he decided to let you cum only around his cock. He made the decisions tonight. You did as he said.
Without answering he took you by the waist and turned you around, on all fours, ass up. You tried to calm your breath and compose yourself, mad he didn’t let you cum. You felt the heat in your stomach fading away as you waited for Hobie to take you. You practically begged for him, crying for his dick to fill you up.
“Music to my ears.” He whispered into your ear, moving back behind you, admiring the view. Your ass ready to be fucked, your cunt wet, walls clenching around nothing. “All mine,” he murmured, and you could hear him playing with his belt, his pants falling to the floor.
“Yours.” You confirmed, resting your head on your hands, pleading for him to finally fuck you and use your cunt like he did many nights ago. You know he’s just toying with you, testing your patience which is about to run out. You hear his silent laugh and the next thing you know; his cock is spreading you out, deep inside of your cunt. The delicious stretch draws a moan out of you, your head covered in the pillows.
He waits for a few seconds, letting you adjust him before he starts thrusting into you, slowly starting to pick up speed. His hands on your waist, cold rings touching your skin, and his cock buried deep inside of you.
“Fuck, could do this all day.” He moans, his thrusts becoming faster and rougher. "Feels good?" he asks as he leans in to grab your hair and pull it back. "Getting fucked by me." He continues, not stopping fucking you hard, his thick cock spreading you out, tears streaming down your face from the pleasure. You couldn't even speak, as his cock kept sliding in and out of you, only focused on how good he felt inside of you.
"Like being used by me, huh." He knew you loved it. He knew how much you liked being called degradatory names, letting him spread your cunt and fuck you senseless. One of your favorite thing to do.
"Yes, Hobie," you screamed out as his cock hit your cervix hard, deeper now than ever before. His one hand still pulls your hair as his other keep your ass in place so he can pound into you like crazy. "Fucking love it when you use me like that." You let out between moans, closing your eyes,
"Fucking whore," He doesn't stop as he slides his finger under your belly to feel himself in you. The pressure of it makes your walls clench, orgasm approaching. You don't even notice his hand moves down until you feel him rubbing your sensitive clit. You were still so wet, basically dripping to the bedsheets.
"Such a good whore for taking my cock like that," he says out loud, pulling you up to press your back against his chest. His hand quickly travels up to hold your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples as he fucks into you deeper, knowing he's gonna cum soon too. "Your pussy feels so good around me." Whispering in your ear, biting into your earlobe. His cold piercing tickles your neck, making you shiver. You feel overstimulated, but it only brings you closer to your peak.
"Your fucking whore. Fuck me like your personal toy." Tears coming down from your eyes, enjoying the way Hobie fucks you like you're his personal sex toy. Like you're his possession and only he can fuck you like that.
"That's right, you're mine. Mine to take and fuck." He growls into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy, alerting you he's close to orgasm. And you are too, as your knees start to give up and your body weakens, under Hobie's restless cock spreading you out fast and hard.
"Fill me up, Hobie." As on command, he cums into you, filling you up with his seed. You follow him right after, falling back to your bed, letting the pleasure take over. Hobie doesn't hold you anymore and lets your knees give up on you. His cum dripping down from your cunt mixed with your own. Ass red, hair, messy, and nail marks on your hips. Marked as his. Mark as his to take.
You lay there for a few minutes, the body still trembling from the hard orgasm, until you feel Hobie fall next to you, cloth in his hands. He also looks tired, his cheeks red and eyes lighter now. You lift yourself to move closer to him, your lips meeting his.
"Thank you, Hobes." Smiling against his lips, you feel his hand move to your lower back.
"Ask more often, please. Feels fucking awesome." He jokes, now playing with your sweaty hair, which reminds him. "Look like shit, we need a shower."
3K notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.
Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.
The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.
As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.
Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.
Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.
Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.
After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.
Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.
"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.
They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.
She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."
"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."
"He's changed."
"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.
"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."
They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.
"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.
They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.
"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."
Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."
Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.
Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.
Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.
"Good?" Steve asks.
Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."
He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.
"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."
🎬🎸🎬🎸
Fifteen Months Later
"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"
Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.
There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.
"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.
The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.
"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.
"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.
"Liar," Steve answers.
Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."
"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.
Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."
Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.
Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.
His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.
4K notes · View notes
industrations · 7 months
Note
pls trans remus 😭😭😭
Yes. I am planning i am plotting and i am thinking about him ALL day EVERY day
154 notes · View notes
jennamoran · 3 months
Text
The Far Roofs: Systems
Hi!
Today I’m going to talk a little bit more about my forthcoming RPG, the Far Roofs. More specifically, I want to give a general overview of its game mechanics!
So the idea that first started the Far Roofs on the road to being its own game came out of me thinking a lot about what large projects feel like.
I was in one of those moods where I felt like the important thing in an RPG system was the parallel between that system and real-world experience. Where I felt like the key to art was always thinking about the end goal, or at least a local goal, as one did the work; and, the key to design was symmetry between the goals and methods, the means and ends.
I don't always feel that way, but it's how I work when I'm feeling both ambitious and technical.
So what I wanted to do was come up with an RPG mechanic that was really like the thing it was simulating:
Finding answers. Solving problems. Doing big things.
And it struck me that what that felt like, really, was a bit like ...
You get pieces over time. You wiggle them around. You try to fit them together. Sometimes, they fit together into larger pieces and then eventually a whole. Sometimes you just collect them and wiggle them around until suddenly there's an insight, an oh!, and you now know everything works.
The ideal thing to do here would probably be having a bag of widgets that can fit together in different ways---not as universally as Legos or whatever, but, like, gears and connectors and springs and motors and whatever. If I were going to be building a computer game I would probably think along those lines, anyway. You'd go to your screen of bits and bobs and move them around with your mouse until it hooked together into something that you liked.
... that's not really feasible for a tabletop RPG, though, at least, not with my typical financial resources. I could probably swing making that kind of thing, finding a 3d printing or woodworking partner or something to make the pieces, for the final kickstarter, but I don't have the resources to make a bunch of different physical object sets over time while I'm playtesting.
So the way I decided that I could implement this was by drawing letter tiles.
That I could do a system where you'd draw letter tiles ... not constantly, not specifically when you were working, but over time; in the moments, most of all, that could give you insight or progress.
Then, at some point, you'd have enough of them.
You'd see a word.
That word'd be your answer.
... not necessarily the word itself, but, like, what the word means to you and what the answer means to you, those would be the same.
The word would be a symbol for the answer that you've found, as a player and a character.
(The leftover letters would then stick around in your hand, bits of thought and experience that didn't directly lead to a solution there, but might help with something else later on.)
Anyway, I figured that this basic idea was feasible because, like, lots of people own Scrabble sets. Even if you don't, they're easier to find than sets of dice!
For a short indie game focused on just that this would probably have been enough of a mechanic all on its own. For a large release, though, the game needed more.
After thinking about it I decided that what it wanted was two more core resolution systems:
One, for stuff like, say ... kickstarter results ... where you're more interested in "how well did this do?" or "how good of an answer is this?" than in whether those results better fit AXLOTL or TEXTUAL. For this, I added cards, which you draw like letter tiles and combine into poker hands. A face card is probably enough for a baseline success, a pair of Kings would make the results rather exciting, and a royal flush result would smash records.
The other core system was for like ... everyday stuff. For starting a campfire or jumping a gap. That, by established RPG tradition, would use dice.
...
I guess technically it didn't have to; I mean, like, most of my games have been diceless, and in fact we've gotten to a point in the hobby where that's just "sort of unusual" instead of actually rare.
But, like, I like dice. I do. If I don't use them often, it's because I don't like the empty page of where to start in the first place building a bespoke diced system when I have so many good diceless systems right there.
... this time, though, I decided to just go for it.
--
The Dice System
So a long, long time ago I was working on a game called the Weapons of the Gods RPG. Eos Press had brought me in to do the setting, and somewhere in the middle of that endeavor, the game lost its system.
I only ever heard Eos' side of this, and these days I tend to take Eos' claims with a grain of salt ... but, my best guess is that all this stuff did happen, just, with a little more context that I don't and might not ever know?
Anyway, as best as I remember, the first writer they had doing their system quit midway through development. So they brought in a newer team to do the system, and halfway through that the team decided they'd have more fun using the system for their own game, and instead wrote up a quick alternate system for Weapons of the Gods to use.
This would have been fine if the alternate system were any good, but it was ... pretty obviously a quick kludge. It was ...
I think the best word for it would be "bad."
I don't even like the system they took away to be their own game, but at least I could believe that it was constructed with love. It was janky but like in a heartfelt way.
The replacement system was more the kind of thing where if you stepped in it you'd need a new pair of shoes.
It upset me.
It upset me, and so, full wroth, I decided to write a system to use for the game.
Now, I'd never done a diced system before at that point. My only solo game had been Nobilis. So I took a bunch of dice and started rolling them, to see ... like ... what the most fun way of reading them was.
Where I landed, ultimately, was looking for matches.
The core system for Weapons of the Gods was basically, roll some number of d10s, and if you got 3 4s, that was a 34. If you got 2 9s, that was a 29. If your best die was a 7 and you had no pairs at all, you got 1 7. 17.
It didn't have any really amazing statistical properties, but the act of rolling was fun. It was rhythmic, you know, you'd see 3 4s and putting them together into 34 was a tiny tiny dopamine shot at the cost of basically zero brain effort. It was pattern recognition, which the brain tends to enjoy.
I mean, obviously, it would pall in a few minutes if you just sat there rolling the dice for no reason ... but, as far as dice rolling goes, it was fun.
So when I went to do an optional diced system for the Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG, years later, to post here on tumblr ... I already knew what would make that roll fun. That is, rolling a handful of dice and looking for matches.
What about making it even more fun?
... well, critical results are fun, so what about adding them and aiming to have a lot of them, though still like rare enough to surprise?
It made sense to me to call no matches at all a critical failure, and a triple a critical success. So I started fiddling with dice pool size to get the numbers where I wanted them.
I'm reconstructing a bit at this point, but I imagine that I hit 6d10 and was like: "these are roughly the right odds, but this is one too many dice to look at quickly on the table, and I don't like that critical failure would be a bit more common than crit success."
So after some wrestling with things I wound up with a dice pool of 5d6, which is the dice pool I'm still using today.
If you roll 5d6, you'll probably get a pair. But now and then, you'll get a triple (or more!) My combinatorics is rusty, so I might have missed a case, but, like ... 17% of the time, triples, quadruples, or quintuples? And around 9% chance, for no matches at all?
I think I was probably looking for 15% and 10%, that those were likely my optimum, but ... well, 5d6 comes pretty close. Roughly 25% total was about as far as I thought I could push critical results while still having them feel kind or rare. Like ...
If I'm rolling a d20 in a D&D-like system, and if I'm going to succeed on an 18+, that's around when success is exciting, right? Maybe 17+, though that's pushing it? So we want to fall in the 15-20% range for a "special good roll." And people have been playing for a very long time now with the 5% chance of a "1" as a "special bad roll," and that seemed fine, so, like, 20-25% chance total is good.
And like ...
People talk a lot about Rolemaster crit fail tables in my vicinity, and complain about the whiff fests you see in some games where you keep rolling and rolling and nothing good or bad actually happens, and so I was naturally drawn to pushing crit failure odds a bit higher than you see in a d20-type game.
Now, one way people in indie circles tend to address "whiff fests" is by rethinking the whole dice-rolling ... paradigm ... so you never whiff; setting things up, in short, so that every roll means something, and every success and failure mean something too.
It's a leaner, richer way of doing things than you see in, say, D&D.
... I just didn't feel like it, here, because the whole point of things was to make dice rolling fun. I wanted people coming out of traditional games to be able to just pick up the dice and say "I'm rolling for this!" because the roll would be fun. Because consulting the dice oracle here, would be fun.
So in the end, that was the heart of it:
A 5d6 roll, focusing on the ease of counting matches and the high but not exorbitant frequency of special results.
But at the same time ...
I'm indie enough that I do really like rolls where, you know, every outcome is meaningful. Where you roll, and there's never a "whiff," just a set of possible meaningful outcomes.
A lot of the time, where I'm leaning into "rolls are fun, go ahead and roll," what it means to succeed, to fail, to crit, all that's up to the group, and sometimes it'll be unsatisfying. Other times, you'll crit succeed or crit fail and the GM will give you basically the exact same result as you'd have gotten on a regular success or failure, just, you know, jazzing up the description a bit with more narrative weight.
But I did manage to pull out about a third of the rolls you'll wind up actually making and assign strong mechanical and narrative weight to each outcome. Where what you were doing was well enough defined in the system that I could add some real meat to those crits, and even regular success and regular failure.
... though that's a story, I think, to be told some other time. ^_^
229 notes · View notes
ladykailitha · 4 months
Text
Staking My Claim Part 3
Hey, guys! We're back!
Part 1 Part 2
We finally get the lowdown on what happened. Otherwise known as don't mess with Jeff.
Robin freaks out.
And Gareth is loaded. Or at least his parents are. ;)
I'm also going to try tagging the untaggables separate and see if you can't get you lovelies tagged.
@redfreckledwolf, @mira-jadeamethyst, @itsall-taken, @emly03, @rozzieroos
***
He hurried over to the phone and called Family Video.
“Hello, thank you for calling Family Video,” the soft female voice said. “How can I help you?”
“Robin!” he cried again. “I’m so sorry!”
“Steve!” Robin shrieked. “Where have you been? Are you okay? You’re not in the hospital or jail are you? What happened?”
“I’m not in jail or the hospital,” he assured her. Eddie huffed out a laugh. He whirled around to stick his tongue out at him. “I’m okay. I’m still in Indy. I just landed at some friendly metalheads’ apartment.”
“Wait...” Robin said. “Those friendly metalheads wouldn’t happen to include one Eddie Munson, would it?”
Steve looked over at said metalhead and turned away to hide his blush. “Maybe,” he mumbled into the phone.
“Hell yeah!” she crowed. “Now tell me what happened now!”
Steve pressed his lips together. “Um...to be honest...I’m not one hundred percent sure I know what happened last night. Like I remember bits and pieces, but it all kinda blurs together.”
Eddie walked over and pointed to the phone. “May I?”
Steve nodded and hand it to him.
“Robin?” Eddie asked. “This is Eddie Munson.”
“Hello, Eddie,” she said coolly. “Would you like to explain why my best friend isn’t, I don’t know, home?”
“I would love you to tell you that story if it’s okay with Steve finding out by me telling you?” Eddie questioned, looking over at Steve.
He shrugged and waved his hand for him to go ahead.
“He’s says it’s fine,” Eddie said.
“Noted,” Robin said. “Now spill.”
So Eddie did. He told her about the sleazeball at the bar who wouldn’t take no for an answer. About his daring rescue of pretending to be his boyfriend.
Steve blushed when he heard Robin go, “Awww,” at that.
Eddie grinned at him. Then he launched into the actual fucking rescue. It turned out that Mr. Persistent bumped into Steve to lace his drink with a drug to knock him out.
Steve’s eyes went wide. “He did what now?”
Eddie hummed. “Yeah...it was this whole thing. Jeff even got to punch the guy in the nose. I think the bartender has a crush on him now.”
Steve’s eyebrows went up. The bartender was a thirty something Asian dude with tattoos and piercings. But he supposed it made sense, considering the bar’s general attitude toward that specific portion of the population.
“At least he’ll get free drinks for life, right?” Robin said with a chuckle.
“That’s certainly one way to look at it,” Eddie agreed. “So yeah, this dude bumps into Steve and suddenly our friend is getting tipsy, fast. And I’ve been at many a rager to ply my wares, there was no way Keg King Steve was drunk after two beers, a margarita, and a half of a Cosmo.” The half a Cosmo was from sharing with Gareth.
Steve blushed. He wasn’t proud of those wild days in high school, but it probably saved his life in this case.
“Yeah...” Robin agreed. “I’ve seen him drink men under the table who were bigger and had been drinking longer.”
Eddie nodded even though she couldn’t seen him, but Steve could.
“Then the asshole comes over and starts flirting with Steve again, trying to draw him away,” he continued. “That’s when we really got that Steve wasn’t acting normal. So Brian steps in and tells asshole to leave him alone. But this guy has gone past persistent and into full creep territory.”
“Eww...” Robin hissed. “How did Jeff get his punch in?”
Eddie chuckled. “That’s honestly the best part, so Brian and Gareth take Steve out to my van and I go and get the bouncer. We come back and asshole is trying to get past Jeff to make his escape. So he takes a swing at Jeffy.”
“Bad idea, I’m guessing?” she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.
Steve tilted his head in interest and Eddie fought down a smile.
“Jeff’s dad is a former boxer who taught him how to fight to make the bullies leave him alone.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and Robin said, “Oooh. Please tell me he laid this asshole out! Please!”
“Dude stiffened like a board and went straight down,” Eddie confirmed. “The only downside is that they couldn’t prove anything, so he just got tossed out, but make no mistake, they’ll make sure spread the word around the other gay bars about this guy.”
“That’s good,” Robin agreed.
Steve wandered back over to his food, safe in the knowledge that he was in safe hands.
Jeff and Brian were at the counter grabbing their breakfast so Steve joined them. Coffee was was doled out by Eddie a few moments later.
Creamer, milk, and sugar were placed next to the coffee pot.
“Robin says not worry about coming into work,” Eddie murmured to Steve. “She said she would tell Keith you have the stomach flu. Which according to her will get you at least three days off.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” Brian said. “I don’t think there is anything I could tell my boss short of being in the hospital that would get me even a couple of hours off.”
Steve laughed. “Keith has a weak stomach. You just mention vomiting and the dude turns green.”
“Handy that,” Eddie said with a smile.
“It’s very handy when you’re out drinking and drink too much,” Steve said with a shrug.
“I’ll say,” Jeff said. “I’m just glad we were there, man.”
Steve blushed. “Yeah, me too.”
He dug into his food and was happy to note that while it didn’t necessarily ease the queasiness in his stomach, it didn’t make him want to throw it all back up, either.
He cleared his plate.
“So this is what’s going to happen, Stevie,” Eddie said as he cleaned up the pans from breakfast, “you are going to stay here until I am sure one hundred percent that you won’t throw up on the three hour journey back to Hawkins.”
Steve opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn’t. Right now nothing was coming up, but put him in a moving vehicle and he couldn’t say for sure that breakfast wouldn’t come right back up.
He nodded.
“I gave Robin the address so she’ll be stopping by after she gets off work,” Eddie continued. “I recommend that you get so actual rest, she seems like she’s a lot without her worrying about you, I can only imagine what she’s like when she is.”
Steve blushed.
“We’re going to all stay here,” Gareth said. “At least for one more day. I talked to my mom about it and she would rather pay more for utilities this month then worry about Steve getting worse.”
The other boys nodded their agreement, while Steve blinked at him in confusion.
“What now?”
“You do realize I live in Loch Nora, right?” Gareth asked, raising an eyebrow.
Steve shook his head. “My parents were very much exclusionists, dude. I only got to hang out with people that they deemed acceptable. Nicole, Carol, Tommy H. If they thought they weren’t in the right trade or held more liberal views, they weren’t worthy to interact with their son.”
Gareth blinked. “Fuck, that must have been lonely.”
He ducked his head and half shrugged.
“Anyway,” Gareth continued into the now deafening silence. “They pay for this apartment in the city for when we play gigs or need a place to crash after a night of drinking.”
Steve frowned. “You’re not eighteen yet, though, right?”
“No,” Gareth said with a laugh. “But my parents trust these guys to keep me safe.”
Steve thought about Dustin and his mom. That despite all the things that Steve had gotten up to in his high school career that she still trusted him to take care of her baby.
“Yeah,” he said fondly. “I can see that.”
Eddie came over to the other side of the counter. “Come on, up you get. You’ll be sleeping in my room.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “How many rooms does this place have?”
“Three,” Jeff said. “Brian shares with Gareth, but Eddie and I get our own rooms.”
“That’s because you’re both sluts,” Brian said rolling his eyes, “and me and Gareth don’t want to be kicked out of our rooms when you bring someone home.”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair.”
“I’ll give you the tour when I steer you back to my room,” Eddie promised.
Steve nodded and allowed himself to be lead back through the apartment and back to the bedroom.
Eddie tucked him back in and put a garbage can next to the bed. “I’ll be out in the front room, holler if you need me.”
Steve nodded and let himself drift off to sleep.
***
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Yeah, I'm sorry, I doubt even a middle class family would buy their very young son (if we hold to the belief that Gareth is OG drummer and was in the talent show with Eddie and Chrissy, putting Eddie in 8th grade, Chrissy in 6th, that would make Gareth in 5th grade) a drum kit.
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @lololol-1234 @r0binscript @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @live-the-fangirl-life @f0xxyb0xxes @lublix @breealtair @croatoan-like-its-hot @confuseddisastertm @dissociatingdemon @sleepdeprivedflower @thedragonsaunt @jamieweasley13 @hellfireone @dragonmama76
305 notes · View notes
Text
Misguided Messages
Summary: Y/N’s ex can’t handle the fact that she moved on from him and she’s happy with Hook. But when he starts doing more than sending them glares backstage, Hook makes it known that you don’t ever threaten his girl.
Warnings: creepy ex, cussing, violence, blood, threats, fights, protective!Hook, angst?, fluff, simp!Hook, teensy tiny bit of spice if you squint
𝘼/𝙉: AAAAHHHHH, I’m doing it! I’m finally posting an imagine🥳😭 I hope you guys love it! It’s definitely not perfect, and I’ve got a lot to learn, but I tried my bestest! And of course I have to give SO MUCH THANKS to @99hook!!🧡 I would never have posted this if it wasn’t for her love and support!!!! Thank you so much bestie for motivating me and I hope you love it bestie!!!🥰🧡🖤
Tumblr media
Having an ex work at the same company as you shouldn't be that big of a deal.
You'd think everyone should be able to behave professionally and go about their day to day lives normally.
But no; because Y/N's ex didn't know the meaning of the word normal.
He was a low card wrestler at AEW; barely even on tv. He was only shown when the better wrestlers needed an easy win.
She had dated him a long time ago, back when she was in college and he was still in the indies.
But now she had risen the ranks in AEW backstage, and was a fan favorite backstage interviewer and occasionally she even got to dabble in storylines.
It was right around when he first joined Team Taz that Hook met Y/N.
There was an instant attraction between the two, and she even pulled his first words out of him in a backstage interview.
Everyone could see the chemistry between them; even the fans picked up on it.
The fans really started to ship them after a particular incident.
"So Ricky, Hook, how is Team Taz feeling about the upcoming-" Her question is cut short when Darby Allin and Sting come from out of nowhere and attack the two. 
Y/N let's out a pained yell as she gets pushed over in the chaos and twists her ankle.
Her eyes widen however when Hook punches Sting extremely hard in the gut, before running over to kneel beside her.
He scoops her up into his arms and backs away from the fight. "Are you ok?"
"I'm ok" she replies. "You should go help Ricky, I'm alright"
Hook just shakes his head no, casting one more glance over to Ricky. He and Ricky exchange nods, and he knows Ricky's got it handled.
So he turns and walks down the hall towards the medical room. "I saw you land on your ankle; how bad does it hurt?"
"Not that bad" Y/N answers. "I think my heels just made it hurt worse"
Hook nods, and it's then that he notices the camera man following them.
He scowls, and adjusts Y/N so he's holding her with one arm before shoving the camera to the ground. "Get that shit out of her face!"
After that, fans were itching to see them get together. And even though neither one were willing to admit it, they were too.
But it wasn't until Hook's in ring debut that it finally happened.
"Hey Hook!" Y/N runs over to him with an excited smile. "Are you excited to debut?!"
"Damn.." Hook can't help but audibly groan at the sight of her.
She was always a sight to behold, but tonight she looked even more breathtaking than usual. She had on a cropped corset top with a see through bodice that had floral lace patterns etched onto it, high waisted leather short-shorts, knee high black boots that had orange rhinestones bedazzling the heel, her natural hair down, and very light makeup; the only pop of color was bright orange highlighting the inner corner of her eye.
"Y-Yeah" Hook stutters out an answer to her question.
"You're gonna do absolutely amazing!" Y/N encourages.
He smiles, bashful at her praise. "Thanks Y/N"
"Tyler!" The two look up when Hook's name is called.
Taz, who was walking over to check on his son, can't help but smirk and chuckle at the pink color on Hook's cheeks. That was definitely not something you see everyday.
"How are you feeling about your first match son?" Taz asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm all good dad" he replies.
"And Y/N, it's always lovely to see you honey" Taz greets. "And you're representing the FTW colors, I love it"
"Thanks Taz" Y/N grins. "I thought it was appropriate given Hook's debut"
"Absolutely!" Taz agrees with a grin. "You know, it's a shame to put that outfit to waste"
"What do you mean?" Y/N asks.
"Well, Ricky and Hobbs aren't able to go out with Hook tonight. So, if you're both cool with it, you could go out with him. Maybe stand ringside" Taz offers.
Hook's eyes widen as he shoots his dad a warning look. His dad was always trying to meddle with him and Y/N-
"I'd love to!"
His eyes widen even more as his head snaps back down to look at Y/N. "R-Really?"
"Yeah! If you'd like me too, of course" Y/N replies.
"Yes! I'd be happy for you to" Hook scrambles to get the words out fast enough before doing his best to recollect himself and return his face to its usual stoicalness.
Taz let's out a laugh, before patting Hook's shoulder. "Well I best be going, commercial's almost over and I gotta get back to commentary. You're up next son, and you're gonna do great. See you two later"
They both say goodbye before Hook turns to Y/N. "Sorry he just volunteered you to do that. You really don't have to if you don't want to"
"What are you talking about?" Y/N asks. "Of course I want to"
Before Hook can respond his music hits.
"Well go on!" Y/N encourages. "I'll be right behind you"
He smiles back at her, and takes a deep breath before daring to peck her on the cheek really quickly before walking out.
Y/N falters for a second, and blushes wildly while her fingers brush over where he kissed her.
Then she snaps out of it and follows him out.
Y/N grins proudly at the pop he gets from the audience, and claps along with them as she trails behind him down the ramp.
He circles the ring as Y/N stops in his corner.
Hook climbs in and walks over to his corner, paying Fuego Del Sol no mind as he leans against the turnbuckle.
Y/N smirks mischievously before climbing up to the apron and looking right in Hook's eyes.
He has to stop himself from reacting to the close proximity of their faces as she leans against the opposite side of the turnbuckle.
"I know you're gonna do amazing" she smiles softly, running her hand over his jaw.
He has to fight as hard as possible to stop a smile from overtaking his face.
Her thumb trails over his bottom lip as he stares at her adoringly.
And when the ref walks over to tap Hook on the shoulder so he'll turn around, she pecks him right on the lips before hopping off the apron and down to ringside.
His eyes widen, and his eyes trail after her.
She smirks at him, and points towards Fuego to indicate he should turn around.
He sends her a smirk back before turning to focus on his match.
He officially asked her to be his girl as soon as they got backstage, and she was so excited to say yes. After that Y/N and Hook were always together.
She always accompanied him to the ring, and Hook would be lying if he said he didn't love getting to show her off.
Y/N in turn, loved to be shown off by him. The way he was so proud to be her boyfriend made her heart melt.
Y/N was also not afraid to get in someone's face if they were messing with Hook.
At Hook's third match, when QT Marshall grabbed his ankle, Y/N was quick to intervene.
"Hey! Bastard!" Y/N storms around the ring to plant herself face to face with QT Marshall.
Was he much bigger than her, and a trained wrestler? Yes. But did he intimidate her? Not at all.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Ricky exclaims from commentary. "Pissed off woman headed your way QT! Better watch out!"
Taz laughs. "Ain't no saving him now!"
"Keep your pathetic hands to your damn self!" She screams. "You're just pissed because Hook has already surpassed you and this is only his third professional match! You're so desperate to prove that you can train someone better than him; and you're too stupid to realize that's never gonna happen! Because Hook has more natural talent in his pinky finger than you have in your whole body!"
Hook can't help but peer over at his girl, a cocky smirk resting on his face as he watches her defend him.
"You listen here-" QT points his finger in Y/N's face.
But he's cut off by the bell ringing, signaling the end of the match.
Neither of them had realized that Hook locked Solo in a redrum.
Y/N let's out a cheer as she hops up onto the apron, but before she fully steps into the ring QT beats her to it.
Hook lightly pushes her back, signaling for her not to get in as he steps up to QT.
Hook turns away from QT after a moment, sick of the man yelling in his face, and that’s when QT grabs Hook's arm and yanks Hook around to face him.
The look on Hook's face is dangerous, and QT quickly raises his hands in surrender.
But it was way too late, and Y/N lets out a laugh when Hook hits him with an overhead throw and plants him onto the mat.
Hook turns back to her, and jumps out of the ring. He stops and holds his hand out to help her down.
She smiles at him as the two walk up the ramp, with Hook placing his hand on Y/N's hip and pulling her into his side.
"You screaming at him was so fucking sexy" he breathes into her ear.
Y/N looks up at him, and he smirks at the blush on her face.
But QT Marshall just never knew when to quit.
The match between Serpentico and Hook was extremely quick.
Serpentico didn't even have an opportunity to take his kimono off before he tapped.
Taz, Ricky, and Y/N were all laughing and cheering for Hook's win as he kept Serpentico locked in the redrum after the bell.
But Y/N's smile morphs into a glare when QT Marshall comes strolling out. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, this is the exact crap I'm talking about! Hey! This is what I'm talking about! You idiots don't realize what he's doing!"
Hook lets Serpentico go to turn and face QT with an annoyed look.
"Hitting the guy before the bell, keeping the choke on too long. His dad's laughing about it, his girlfriend's cheering him on" QT complains.
Y/N quirks an amused eyebrow at him, and nods her head.
Taz laughs again from his seat at the commentary table. "Yeah I am"
Hook just rolls his eyes and waits for Y/N to join him at his side before walking up the ramp.
"He's a delinquent!" QT exclaims.
Y/N intertwines her fingers with his as they walk by QT without acknowledging him.
But Y/N let's out a surprised yelp when QT grabs her arm and turns her to face him.
Hook feels her be yanked back, and whips around with a furious glare.
He pushes Y/N behind him, before getting chest to chest with QT.
QT continues to scream, but Hook doesn't really hear any of it. All he knows is that QT touched his girl.
Hook grabs QT and T-Bones him as hard as he can.
Hook stands up, and walks over to Y/N. "You ok baby?"
"Yeah, I'm good Ty" she answers with a smile.
Hook takes her hand again, and steps over QT's body.
He then turns around to place his hands on Y/N's waist and pick her up to place her on the other side of QT so she doesn't have to step over him.
Taz is still laughing at commentary as the two walk backstage. "You never put your hands on Hook's girl! And if you do, he's gonna teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"
"They're like AEW's Bonnie and Clyde!" Excalibur says with a laugh.
Y/N also started learning to commentate around that time, and Taz was happy to be her mentor.
Y/N was sitting at the commentary table next to Taz. She was quiet for the time being, because QT Marshall was out there with one of his students and Y/N refused to acknowledge him.
But then something catches her attention, and she turns to look at QT with a raised eyebrow. "Ladies and gentlemen, the recipient of the first ever QT Marshall certificate of accomplishment: Hook!"
She crosses her arms as she stares QT down, suspicious of his intentions.
But she can't help a smile growing on her face when Hook's music hits, and he comes walking out.
He glances over at her before making his way down the ramp.
"What?!" Chris Jericho exclaims surprisedly.
"The cold-hearted handsome devil: Hook" Excalibur says.
"Here he comes!" Jericho exclaims excitedly.
"We're not quite sure what the hell this is about with QT and the certificate of accomplishment" Taz says.
"Hook looks annoyed that somebody woke him up to send him out here" Jericho laughs, making Y/N laugh as well. "He probably is"
"QT likes to take a lot of credit for training Hook" Y/N rolls her eyes.
Y/N goes to stand up, but Taz grabs her arm and lightly pulls her back down. "Don't go smacking the guy up just yet Y/N" he says with a chuckle.
Y/N recrosses her arms as she keeps her eyes fixed on the ring.
"This is such a special night" QT starts. "I mean normally a mentor-" he stops when the crowd starts chanting for Hook. "Yeah, give it to him guys. He deserves it. Normally a mentor would get jealous when his protege surpasses him, but not me, I'm not a selfish kind of guy-"
Y/N laughs when the audience boos at that.
"I'm not!" QT insists. "So I’m just gonna get right to it.  Hook, congratulations. This is something you're gonna be able to tell your grandkids about. You are the recipient of the inaugural, first ever, QT Marshall certificate of accomplishment"
QT takes the plaque from Aaron Solo as he shoots off a confetti gun.
Y/N can't help but giggle at the unimpressed look on Hook's face as confetti falls around him.
"What the hell is going on?" Taz groans.
But then Hook slams Solo's head into the certificate, making Y/N and Taz burst into laughter as Hook makes his way back up the ramp.
But Y/N's smile drops when Danhausen comes creeping out from backstage.
She immediately stands up and storms over when Danhausen tries to curse Hook.
Hook is completely unfazed, and moves to step around Danhausen.
But Y/N snatches the back of Danhausen's shirt and pulls him around to face her before slapping him right in the face.
Everyone at the commentary table cringes at the sound.
"Y/N just slapped the taste out of Danhausen's mouth!" Jericho laughs hysterically at the shocked look on Danhausen's face.
"I think the curse backfired on Danhausen!" Excalibur exclaims.
"You don't mess with Y/N's man you guys" Taz laughs.
Hook wraps his arm around Y/N's waist and pulls her backstage as she glares at Danhausen.
"Calm down mamas" he breathes into her ear.
Hook smirks as she falters, and he admires the blush lighting up her face. "You like that nickname mamas?"
Y/N nods, burying her face in his chest as she hugs around his torso.
He laughs softly and presses a kiss on top of her head. "The last time you reacted like that was when I called you babygirl"
He just laughs again when she has a similar reaction, before swatting his chest. "Stop teasing me!"
"I'm sorry babygirl" he says in a low tone. He lets his hands trail down her body to rest on her hips. "I didn't mean to tease you. I just love those cute little reactions.. my cute girl"
Y/N smiles up at him, and gets on her tip toes to press a kiss to his nose.
Hook's face flushes red, and it's Y/N's turn to smirk. "It's ok, because I love your cute little reactions too honey"
Hook squeezes her hips, and leans down to bury his head in the crook of her neck. That nickname always made him bashful and blush.
Y/N giggles and runs her fingers through his hair.
Even after Hook accepted Danhausen as a tag partner, Y/N was a little unsure of him.
She didn't like how he wanted to fight Hook at first, and Y/N was a little protective of Hook.
But he did grow on her eventually, and she was so excited when the two worked together to beat Tony Nese and Mark Sterling.
But it was around this time that Y/N's ex was suddenly unable to keep his stupid fucking mouth shut.
"Hello Miss Y/N" she hears from behind her, and turns to face Danhausen with a smile.
"Hello Danhausen" she greets back. "How are you today?"
"Very well, very well indeed. I just came over to see-"
"Y/N" Danhausen is cut off by a man he doesn't recognize stepping out in front of them.
Y/N rolls her eyes, but Danhausen notices the way she takes a step closer to him. "What do you want Matthew?"
"I just wanted to talk to you without your little boy toy behind you" Matthew scowls.
"Uh, hello. Danhausen here" Danhausen waves. "She has a very evil friend instead"
"Like I'm scared of you" Matthew laughs.
"Like you have any room to talk" Y/N retorts. "At least Danhausen gets matches. When was the last time you wrestled? I don't even know, but I'm sure it was a throw away match to get someone else over"
Y/N smirks at the look on Matthew's face, knowing what she said was true.
"Just leave me the fuck alone Matthew" Y/N demands. "You know I have a boyfriend. And he is a hundred times the man you could ever dream of being, and makes me a million times happier than you ever did"
With that she grabs Danhausen's arm and pulls him down the hall with her.
"I'm not gonna give up that easily! Mark my words, you'll be hearing from me!" Matthew yells.
Danhausen turns to curse him, but Y/N just yanks him down the hallway. "He's not even worth it"
"Who was that despicable person?" Danhausen asks.
"He's just an ex" Y/N answers. "He just has a hard time accepting that I broke up with him. He hadn't bothered me in a while though.. I thought he was finally gonna leave me alone"
"We should tell Hook" Danhausen says.
"No! Please don't!” Y/N immediately replies. "Tyler will loose his damn mind, and he needs to be focused on his match tonight. The last thing I want is for him to get suspended or something because he attacked Matthew. Which we both know is what he'll do"
Danhausen is silent for a few moments, before huffing. "Fine, Danhausen will not tell for now. But if he bothers you any more we must"
It didn't take very long for him to do just that.
But this time he made the mistake of doing it when Hook was around.
Y/N giggles at a joke Danhausen tells her as the two sit in catering.
It was late; the last match had wrapped up a while ago, so they were the only ones there.
They had decided to hang out at the venue a little later than usual, and Hook was now taking a shower really quick before the three headed out.
"Hey Y/N"
"Ew!" Danhausen screams. "It is creepy rat man!"
Y/N can't help but burst out in laughter at Matthew's expense.
"I want to talk to you" Matthew says, attempting to be assertive in his tone.
But Y/N had changed a lot from the meek girl she was when she was with him. That tone may have worked on her once, but never again.
And she knew that infuriated him when she looked over at him with a bored expression. "I don't wanna talk to you though. So too bad"
"You really think you're all that now because you're Hook's latest piece of ass, huh? He doesn't give a damn about you, but you're too fucking stupid to realize that. He'll never treat you the way I did-"
"The way you did?!" Y/N exclaims, jumping up from her seat to glare daggers at him. "You're right. Tyler would never treat me the way you did. He would never treat me like I'm worth nothing more than a fuck. You expected to be able to treat me like shit, and then still have me waiting for your beck and call. Well newsflash Matthew; you may have destroyed me back then, but I healed myself. And Tyler has shown me what it's like to be loved. He's shown me what being with a real man is like"
"Hey bitch!" Everyone's head snap over to the hallway, where Hook is storming over with a look in his eyes that Y/N had never seen.
Hook snatches Matthew up by the collar with a dangerous look on his face before landing a vicious punch right on his jaw.
"Tyler!" Y/N exclaims as Danhausen immediately tries to pull him off of Matthew. 
Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him towards her.
Hook let's her do so, but he doesn't stop glaring at Matthew. "You mess with my girl again and I'll knock your fucking teeth in"
And after that Hook lets Y/N drag him down the hallway.
Neither one of them say a word until they get to Hook's dressing room.
Hook wordlessly sits down on the couch, and furrows his eyebrows when Y/N lingers by the door and doesn't sit down next to him.
He holds his hand out, signaling for her to come over to him, but she doesn't.
"Get your cute little ass over here" Hook says with a little pout.
Y/N breaks out into a smile at that, and does as told.
When she gets close enough he grabs her hips and pulls her down to sit on his lap facing him.
Y/N wraps her arms around his torso and buries her head against the side of his neck. "I'm sorry"
"For what?" Hook asks, leaning back a little in an attempt to look at her. But she holds on tighter and doesn't let him. "For all that with Matthew"
"It wasn't your fault" Hook replies, but she can feel his body tense. "Who was he though?"
"He's an ex" Y/N answers.
Hook doesn't like the vague answer, and gently wraps his hands in her hair to pull her head up and makes eye contact with her. He didn't give a damn about some stupid little ex of Y/N's; he knew that Y/N only wanted him, just like he only wanted her. But he does care when that ex starts bothering her. "Has he been bothering you before today?"
Y/N shrinks under his gaze, but when she tries to look down he tightens the grip on her hair slightly. "I.. Only a couple times"
"Y/N" Hook chides. "These are the kinds of things you have to tell me"
"I know" Y/N says softly. "I just didn't want you to get in a fight with him or something"
Hook sighs, before pulling her to him and kissing her softly.
When they pull away Y/N lays her head on his chest as Hook runs his hand up and down her back, occasionally kissing her head and whispering sweet words to her.
That was a couple months ago, and Matthew had let up a bit.
He never approached her in person anymore; but he did message and call her.
Y/N knew she should tell Hook, but she was scared he'd snap and beat him up again.
It was a miracle that Matthew didn't report Hook the first time, and Y/N didn't want to risk Hook loosing his job over her.
So she just dealt with his abusive texts and voicemails, and did her best to not let it bother her.
But it obviously did, and Hook was beginning to pick up on it.
Like right now.
Y/N and Hook were snuggled up together on their hotel bed. Y/N was tucked into his side with her head on his chest, and Hook had his chin resting on top of her head while absentmindedly running his fingers up and down her back.
But then Y/N's phone started ringing.
Hook began to move to hand it to her, but she squeezed him tighter. "Don't move" she whined.
He laughs softly at her, and peers down at her with an adoring smile. "You're adorable babygirl, but it could be something important"
Y/N pouts, before turning to grab her phone.
Hook looked back at the tv, which was playing a rerun of Y/N's favorite show.
Hook had turned it on for her while she was getting ready for bed.
But his head snaps over to her when he hears a little sniffle escape her. 
He pulls himself up to rest against the headboard, and gently places a hand on her back. "Talk to me mamas.. tell me what's going on so I can help you"
Y/N hesitates, and stares down at her phone. "I'm scared to"
Hook furrows his eyebrows at that. Why would she be scared to tell him something?
Hook places his hands on her waist and turns her to face him. She looks down at the bed, but he puts his finger under her chin and tilts her head up to look at him. "You can tell me anything Y/N. Anything. You know that"
"I know.." She mumbles. "It's not how it sounds. I just don't want you to get in trouble"
"Why would I get in trouble?" Hook asks.
"Because I think you may kill someone" Y/N answers with a soft smile.
Hook cracks a smile as well. "If they're bothering you, you may be right"
"Tyler" Y/N chides, lightly swatting his chest as they smile at each other.
"Ok, ok" he relents. "I at least won't kill anyone tonight"
Y/N takes a deep breath. "It's Matthew.."
Hook's eyes harden immediately, and he has to take a couple deep breaths of his own. "What about him?"
"Ever since you punched him, he hasn't come up to me in person. But he has been messaging and calling me" Y/N admits. "He always says the meanest things and it's just-" Y/N sniffles again, and Hook wipes away a stray tear with his thumb. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want to say anything to you because I was scared you'd attack him and get suspended or fired and I can't even imagine you being gone and I-"
Hook cuts her rambling off by placing his lips against her's.
Y/N immediately melts into him, placing her hands on his neck as her holds her face and their lips move in sync.
He pulls away after a few seconds and kisses her forehead before speaking. "I'm not happy you didn't tell me.. but I guess I understand why. I shouldn't have acted the way I did before. Maybe then you would have told me-"
Y/N places a finger against his lips, cutting his sentence short. "No. You know what? Neither one of us is gonna apologize. Did either of us handle the situation perfectly? No. But none of it is our fault's; it's his"
Hook smiles softly before nodding.
He pulls her body flush against his, and nuzzles his head in the crook of her neck. Y/N giggles as he starts leaving kisses there.
"I think he's just mad because he doesn't have the sexiest girl in the world to keep him warm at night anymore" Hook teases, and Y/N let's out a surprised squeal when he slaps her ass.
"Tyler!" She chides through giggly laughter, and he laughs along too.
The two spend the rest of the night too wrapped up in each other's presence to even remember Matthew's name.
A couple of peaceful weeks went by after that.
Matthew had called a couple times and sent a couple of messages, but Y/N just ignored them.
She told Hook every time, and he wanted nothing more than to track Matthew down and make it so he was terrified to even breathe in Y/N's direction.
But she begged him not to do anything rash, and he reluctantly agreed.
Hook kept true to that agreement for almost a month.
The two were at the arena, getting ready for that night's rampage. Y/N had gotten into the shower while Hook was putting on his ring gear and taping his fists.
"Ty!" Y/N called.
Hook immediately hopped up and walked into the bathroom. "Yeah mamas?"
She doesn't say anything, but she sticks her head around the shower curtain and pouts her lips.
Hook smirks, and walks over to place his lips against her's.
He reaches into the shower, before she giggles and closes the curtain. "You can't come in here! You're gonna get your tape wet! And your precious hair!"
Hook just chuckles. "You're the one who called me in here"
With that he walks back into the dressing room, but stops when Y/N's phone starts lighting up.
He grabs it, and starts to circle back to the bathroom to let her know she had gotten some messages, when he realizes who the messages are from.
Hook scoffs as he watches more and more messages from Matthew pop up on the screen, and with each one he feels his body heating up in anger.
But then a particular one delivers, and Hook tosses the phone down on the couch before storming out of the room with a rapid heartbeat, a clenched jaw, and clenched fists.
When Y/N gets out of the shower, she is greeted with an empty dressing room.
She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, but figures Hook just left to do something real quick.
She gets dressed and started on her makeup.
But right as she finishes putting on her lipgloss her door is swung open, and Ricky Starks comes rushing in.
"What the hell Ricky?! You scared the hell out of me!" Y/N exclaims.
"You gotta come with me" Ricky says, and grabs her arm to pull her out of the room.
"Where? What's wrong?" Y/N asks.
"Hook's beating the hell out of some random jobber" Ricky answers, and Y/N feels her stomach drop.
The closer they get Y/N can hear the fighting and yelling, and she pulls away from Ricky to just run towards the sounds quicker.
"Tyler!" She screams when she sees him holding a bloody and beaten Matthew up against the wall by his neck.
"Huh?! Come on! Threaten someone who will fight back you son of a bitch!" Hook screams, not even hearing Y/N over the blood pumping in his ears.
"Tyler!" Y/N yells again, and runs over.
Hook whips around when he feels someone trying to pull him off of Matthew, but his wild eyes soften when the see it was Y/N.
But she wasn't looking at him, she was watching with wide eyes as Matthew slid right down the wall as soon as Hook wasn't holding him anymore.
"What the hell Tyler?!" Y/N yells.
Hook just stares at the floor, chest heaving and sweat running down his body.
"Matthew swung first" Ricky speaks up from behind them. "Hook went up to him yelling and shit, but he never touched Matthew until after he punched Hook"
"I knew you wouldn't want me to.." Hook mumbles, nervously looking up from the floor to make eye contact with her.
Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.
"Why don't you two go to Tony's office and explain all that then" Y/N says shortly, watching as medics finally run over and start tending to Matthew. She felt guilty that she just couldn't bring herself to feel bad for him. But Ricky said that Matthew swung first, so whatever happened to him was his own fault.
Hook doesn't move though, and stares at Y/N like a lost puppy. "Are you mad at me?"
Y/N sighs, before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He immediately responds, wrapping his arms tightly around her in return.
"I'm not happy you came out here looking for him, as I assume that's why you left the room"
Y/N looks up at him with a pointed look, and he looks at the wall to avoid eye contact. "But, if he swung first then I'm not mad at you for the fight"
"I had to. I couldn't let him say what he said to you, I'll always defend you" Hook says firmly.
"What are you talking about?" Y/N asks with furrowed eyebrows.
"You didn't look at your phone?"
Y/N was sitting in her and Hook's shared hotel room while scrolling through all the messages Matthew sent that day.
And Y/N knew exactly which one must have set Hook off.
You don't wanna respond to me bitch? That's fine, because when Hook goes out for his match tonight I'm gonna find you and teach you to never ignore me again. And trust me, you'll never forget it.
Y/N didn't even want to think about what he had been planning to do before Hook found him; and she couldn't be anything but grateful to Hook.
She had heard that Matthew was in the hospital with broken bones and other injuries, and she wondered if that would have been her without Hook.
Matthew had never actually hit her during their relationship, but he came very close when she broke up with him.
But her thoughts are interrupted when the door swings open.
She jumps up and runs over to tightly hug Hook. "Is everything ok?"
"Yeah, it's all ok baby" Hook comforts, running his fingers through her hair. "There was a video of the whole thing so I'm not in any trouble"
"Thank God" Y/N breathes out. "And Matthew?"
"He's gonna be fired. You know, whenever he wakes up" Hook brags with a lopsided smirk.
Y/N laughs, and gets on her tiptoes to peck his lips. "I love you so much. And thank you, I can't help but think about what could have happened-"
Hook leans down to cut her off with a kiss, before pulling away and resting his forehead against her's. He lets his hands rest on her hips as he stares into her eyes. "You don't ever have to worry about someone hurting you. Not ever again. Not when I'm around, which will be forever"
Y/N smiles, and lets out a surprised laugh when he picks her up and carries her over to the bed.
She gets comfortable under the covers as he puts on pajamas.
He lays down next to her and she immediately nuzzles into his side.
Hook wraps an arm around her waist, and uses his free hand to draw random shapes on her exposed stomach.
Y/N sleepily smiles as she realizes he's writing out 'I love you' at one point. "I love you too"
372 notes · View notes
thesiltverses · 4 days
Note
so i know that the silt verses is approaching its series finale, and i have (allegedly) made peace* with this inevitability. however.
.....is there any chance you guys could be bribed into.... not.... ending the show.... 👀 like i'm not trying to say my mother-in-law makes THE best lemon squares and butter tarts in all of ontario, but i'm also not NOT saying that.
the best confectionary goodness you've ever tasted in exchange for more silt verses, what do u say
*i may still be in the bargaining stage of grief, actually
(also all of this is a joke!! hahaha! unless 👀)
Hahaha, your mother-in-law sounds awesome, and her sweet treats sound delicious!
I know this is a joke (unless 👀), but to answer it sincerely: like most kids, I used to love building Lego. Great towering mangled constructions. And you always got to a point where it was almost finished, probably finished - but the temptation persisted to keep building. Perhaps one detail more? One extra addition, make it taller, make it bigger? And then you'd try and jam another brick on and the whole thing would fall off-balance or collapse into pieces.
And then you had a reckoning with yourself; you'd spoiled your own work because you didn't know how to stop.
When it comes to the world and story of TSV, I of course feel the temptation to keep jamming on more bricks, but I also know what we'd be risking.
Whether it's mainstream TV shows or indie audiodramas, I think there are very few multi-season serials that are universally agreed to stick the landing of their final season; almost every single longform show is popularly considered to have some dropoff in quality or some kind of disappointment in how it handles its ending (even The Wire, Breaking Bad, The Sopranos).
Contrarily, there are a great many shows that are universally accepted to have persevered on long after they should have ended, or to have taken a total dive into a hole they couldn't get back out of.
That's just the nature of longform storytelling - it's ludicrously hard to wrap up in a satisfying way, it's much too easy to keep adding more bricks instead.
We're not done yet, of course, and no matter what I'm sure there are people who will come away feeling that this season was a disappointing ending to the series because it didn't do X or it did Y (and some of that will be totally justified, some of that will be subjective, and some of that is again just the inevitable cost of trying to end a long and complicated story).
But I'm really, really grateful and relieved that we've had some very kind and enthusiastic feedback on S3 so far, and I feel incredibly proud of us and our cast for some of this season's episodes and performances which I think do arguably count amongst our best work.
That feels like a very rare and a very fortunate place to get to end things on, and I wouldn't ever want to risk spoiling that by continuing to over-extend ourselves.
(And equally, I'm just excited to have the chance to make something else next!)
124 notes · View notes