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bked0n-lorazepam · 6 months ago

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"Sweltering"

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Summary (Smut): Y/N and Patrick are placed as partners on their senior camp trip for Derry high-school. Regrets are thought after Patrick convinced her to place their tent further away from the others, and when their fans die in the middle of the night in the awful Derry heat.

Warnings: Vulgar language, dubious consent, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, camping, in a tent. Patrick and Reader are 18 and seniors!

A/N: Sorry guys, motivation kind of went out the window for my WIP's and I can't think when I try to write them, so here's this apology while I wait for my writer's block to end!

Smut under the cut!!

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It was dark out, and hot. The Derry highschool had a camp field trip that only the seniors could go on as a ‘going away’ event for their graduation. Y/N and Patrick were partnered together, much to each other’s distaste.

There was an odd amount of people on the trip, and when Y/N was told that the other student was going to join her group of three and that she’d have to be with Patrick, she groaned.

–

“Do I have to? What have I done to deserve this?” She begged her councilor to change the groups.

“Ms. L/N, you’re the perfect student, and he isn’t. We’re hoping that maybe while on this trip, you can influence him in some kind of way. Please, you can still hang out with your past group, you just need to stick with him as well.” Her councilor begged her back, hope shining in his eyes.

All the teachers at the highschool knew that Patrick wasn’t the greatest student, so they always paired her and him together when they could. Projects and presentations, hell, they even made her his tutor. She hated how much time out of her life he took up, and he hated how much of his she took up.

“Fucking, fine. Whatever.” Y/N sighed dramatically and walked away to talk to her friends.

She heard a faint ‘language’ from her councilor before getting pulled aside and directed the other way.

“So, we’re buddies again. Huh, toots?” Patrick grinned and put his hand on her waist while walking her towards their assigned bus.

“Guess so,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the nickname he gave her when they met, and pulled his hand that was slowly moving to her ass off of her. “Don’t fuck this trip up.”

“I’ll think about it.”

–

Patrick did not, in fact, think about it.

He somehow convinced her to set up their tent further away from the others, and the fans that they were given on the bus had died. They were both sweating and kicked off their blankets, and now they laid on their sleeping bags.

“I hate you.” Y/N panted, using the safety folder as a fan. She was wearing a dark green tank top and sweatpants on, and she was sweltering.

“Mutual feelings.” Patrick responded, laying on his back with his arms behind his head. He took his shirt off and was wearing his black boxers, even though Y/N complained about him taking off his pants.

She knew she couldn’t say much, though, having taken off her bra earlier in the night because of how uncomfortable it was. She also knew that he was staring at her breasts half the time, but she didn’t bring it up. He’d do it if she had a sweater on, too.

Y/N stopped fanning herself for a moment and stared at the wall of the tent in front of her, and Patrick looked over at her.

“What?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” She set down the folder and stood up as he stared at her, watching her every movement.

She glanced at him and caught his eyes before looking away quickly and reaching her fingers into her waistband. Pulling off her pants, she stood there in her black lace panties, bare to Patrick’s eyes.

“Thought you were gonna get some?” Patrick snickered at her fancy underwear as she sat down and scoffed.

“Yeah, from Taylor.” She smiled sarcastically and fanned herself with the folder again, sighing in relief at the difference her lack of clothing made.

She’ll admit, she was hoping that she’d end up getting a tent with Taylor because she thought he was hot, but now she was stuck with Patrick. Who was kind of attractive.

But also really attractive.

Patrick hummed and watched her again before a large grin grew on his face. He sat up from his sleeping bag and crawled over to her when she closed her eyes, and he covered her mouth with his hand when she yelped in surprise.

“Patrick, what the fuck!” She hissed quietly to not wake the other campers.

“Shut up and enjoy this.” He sneered and slid his hands up and down her body.

Y/N gasped and grabbed his shoulders when his hands cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. She’d had sex before, but they were all asses who never thought of foreplay, so naturally, she was sensitive.

He smiled at her reactions and continued to pinch them, leaning in to kiss her neck when she threw her head back and moaned. He kissed and nipped all over her neck, leaving bruises wherever his lips touched.

She bucked her hips up into his when he found her sweet spot, and she wrapped her fingers in his hair while he sucked at it.

“Patrick, stop. We shouldn’t be doing this.” Y/N panted heavily. She didn’t want him to stop at all, but she held onto a small sense of her dignity.

They shouldn’t be doing this with the other students just a couple yards away from them, but she also knew that Patrick didn’t care.

All he did was move further down her neck and kiss her collarbone before lifting her shirt over her breasts and attaching his lips to them.

She moaned, loudly, and reached a hand up to cover her mouth. Patrick laughed and sucked all over her smooth skin, his hands now moving down her hips, to the waistband of her underwear.

“Fuck, stop. We can’t do this.” Even though her brain said one thing, her body said another. She didn’t do anything to stop him, other than tell him to.

She knew he wouldn’t listen, though, so she didn’t know why she was even trying.

His hands ghosted over her underwear to the inside of her thighs, and he rubbed the soft flesh. He pinched her and she whined, him smiling once again.

Patrick slowly moved his hand up to where she wanted him most, and he ran a finger up her groin as she thrusted her hips towards it.

“Patrick, please.” Y/N didn’t even know what she was begging for, at this point. Whether he stopped or didn’t, it didn’t matter to her anymore. She just wanted to keep feeling good.

His fingers moved her underwear to the side and he ran a finger through her folds once again, detaching himself from her nipple.

He stared her in the eyes and brought the finger to his lips, sucking off the mess she left on them.

“Patrick, please!”

His fingers moved skillfully and he kissed her, his middle finger plunging into her entrance all the way to his knuckle. She moaned loudly once again, but this time his mouth caught it. He stretched her out, and when he thought she was ready, he put his index finger in with it.

Y/N moved her hips with his fingers, trying to match the speed he was going at. It didn’t help that he was purposely messing up his rhythm so that she couldn’t, and he grinned when she sobbed into his mouth.

“Please, Patrick,” She whimpered, “‘M so close!”

He placed his thumb on her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, reattaching himself to her nipple. “Go ahead.”

She cried out and clenched around his fingers, her hips finally being able to match his speed and rhythm. He let her ride out her high before he took his fingers away and moved down, licking up what was left on his fingers and her cunt.

When he was done, he sucked at her clit harshly, and she cursed out and tugged his hair away from her.

He sat up and wiped away what was on his chin, sucked at her sternum until he left a hickey, and pulled her shirt down.

Patrick palmed at his boxers and then kissed her before rolling over next to her, reassuming his position with his arm behind his head.

“When I wake up, I expect to see you with my dick down your throat.” He told her, closing his eyes and getting comfortable.

“Yeah. M’kay, I guess.”

#x reader #fem reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #pennywise #stephen king #it #patrick hockstetter smut #patrick hockstetter x reader smut #smut #camping #tent sex #tent camping #dubious consent

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ohsohoney · 5 months ago

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When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part One

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour

Masterlist

I was mortified.

More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.

To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.

No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.

“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.

“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.

“Don’t do that either.”

I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.

“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”

A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.

I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.

Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit.

But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.

I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.

At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.

It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.

But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.

Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.

It was around midnight when I heard the scream.

Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.

“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”

Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.

“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”

“Elia.”

I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”

“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”

Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”

Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me.

From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.

I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.

It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.

“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.

Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.

The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.

“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”

And there it was.

“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.

“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.

Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?

I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video.

“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.

In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.

“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.

“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.

The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”

“I wasn’t fucking wasted!”

I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.

“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”

That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.

“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.

Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.

“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”

I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”

The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself.

The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”

The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react.

“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”

Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.

That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either.

After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.

I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on.

I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful.

Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.

The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.

Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.

I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.

I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”

Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight.

I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”

A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”

Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?

I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”

I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.

I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.

He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore.

“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.

I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything.

“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.

“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”

My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”

His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”

I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?”

I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to.

“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”

The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well.

“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”

When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.

“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”

My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.

“I still can’t believe you saw that.”

Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”

I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”

He hummed, seemingly not convinced.

“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”

“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”

Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”

“Dre too.”

I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.

Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”

Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously.

“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”

“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”

A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling.

“You’re not fucking with me?”

In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.

“Who else knows?”

There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”

I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way.

I needn’t have worried.

“As you fuckin’ should be.”

I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me?

I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”

“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.

I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”

His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more.

“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.

“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.

The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”

The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.

“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”

I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”

“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”

That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”

I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him.

“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”

I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls.

“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.

Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.

“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”

“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”

“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”

“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”

My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.

He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.”

He hummed.

Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those.

I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”

A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling.

I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion.

“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness.

My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”

His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw.

“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.

With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”

His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”

A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.”

His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”

I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further.

That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”

He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”

It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.

I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.

“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.

I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”

It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name.

The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”

You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?

That was what that question felt like to me.

“What?”

His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”

Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”

Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”

“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”

That chuckle again.

It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.

“That the go ahead then?”

I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”

“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”

The air in my lungs lurched.

I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”

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solar4seekstron · 22 days ago

Text

Character Introduction - Reader in the Bayverse. (If anyone has a good name for reader please let me know)

Hello! Hello! Your dear Solar is here! Guess what? I’m rewriting the Bayverse movies (Kinda)!!! And add ing in reader because I mean who hasn’t imagined theirself as a Cybertronian fighting alongside OP and Bee, right?

In the 5 Movies there is………………………………a lot. Going on-

As some of you have guess these chapter will be pretty long and although it’s a rewrite. Not too much will be changed and like with my other stories like Before and So Forth and Transformers One Awakening series. Yes, the reader will be Gender Nuatral so They/Them will be used. As always you guys can just imagine it’s saying he or she if you are that gender. While yes it’s a self instert in the story it’s also a story of an added character of my creation. I’ve been wanting to write this since I realized I enjoyed writing when I was barely an adult.

Just wanted to wait till I had more of an audience. Even if all of my followers don’t always like my posts >:(!

Jk. Jk. I know SOME people like my works. I’ve always wanted to create a character for the series just because I love that crap. If reader inserts and x reader stuff isn’t your cup of tea. DNI then. This is for people who do to enjoy and just have fun talking to other fans. I only wish for people to enjoy my work while self instering time to time.

Overall this post is to give a deeper look of what I have planned for you all and the series of the bay films. This introduction under the cut will tell you what you need to know about the character and what to expect. Hopefully as I write the series I can continue to make thier personality shine.

This is a true passsion project of mine. So the first chapter wont be released until Christmas. And then will be released every Sunday.

Seeing that there are some sexual scenes at times I don’t see why the robots can’t? (In my own opinion I feel that it makes sense that because the robots are sentient and now we have a nonbinary robot! Along with when you look at wheelie and the twins from the second film. So I’ll try my best to add in the humor when it feels right for the situation.

In the movies it’s always Optimus Prime, Megatron, and Bumblebee but now here it’ll be with the reader add in all the movies.

Since the story is x reader in a way the characters are semi soft yandere. But not all the time.That’ll be explained and explored later. I did change up the lore a bit so please bear with me please I did as much research as I can but had to keep remembering that I’m also doing this to have fun. So you know if there are things in here that you weren’t expecting or you didn’t see what you wanted in part of their lore. Sorry my writing isn't always for everyone.

Notes: Wheeljack in the third film will be rewritten. I’m sure some people like his design and character. But I hate it- My boy deserves more respect and love then this!!! So like I’ll do in the Knightvers with ROTB I’m going to rewrite him like how he is in Prime. He’ll still die because I know I can make that an interesting plot point like with every other character.

Not just Optimus Prime ok. As for in between movies I’ll do the best research I can since I know there are comics for them. And if anyone has a link to them online or overall plot points for the movies and in the comics. Let me know!

Reader will have their large part in the story like how I’ll write for the others. I hope you guys enjoy this series and yeah knowing that the movies have a lot going on it might take me a little over half a year to finish.

And not to worry I won't grow bored of this series. I have been thinking about and planning on working on this series along with the knightverse movies for a long while and I don’t wish to disappoint!!

Anyway, here’s the reader and their character! I hope you guys like them!!!!!

———————————————————————————

Character.

Basics:

Besides Optimus, Ratchet and Senitnel and a few other Decepticons. They can speak Cybertronian. In a way a former Knight like Optimus. Worrior under Sentinel during the war before Optimus became leader.

Uses They/Them Pronouns.

B - Info:

Lives throughout the movies and is always there. Being the Ride or Die of Optimus like Bumblebee. The fighter in every battle. There to help guide but also learn. One to believe in signs and path. Goes through their own growth along side the many around them. Struggles for their fallen friends.

Is one of the strongest characters in series.

Team Prime:

Scout/Warrior/Soldier (Former Knight). Voice of Reason. Cool older sibling.

Age:

Around the same age as Optimus Prime and Sentinel. The other Knights being a bit older. (I imagine they’re all around the same age. But in the story the reader is a little older then OPtimus Prime.)

Note: After some research for the story, the google search told me Hound is 60 millions years old??? And Optimus is still referred to be 9 million years old. I know they’re all supper old but for Hound to be 60 million is a bit strange to me. So I’m changing the age for them a bit.

Hound will be 29 million years old and while OP and Y/N are around 15 million years old. And the knights being only 19 million years older.

And so in the equivalent of human years OP and Y/N would be in their early 40’s.

The Knight in their mid 40’s. And Hound in his early 70’s.

Appearance:

Y/N is a pretty tall bot. Being 4 feet smaller then Optimus in robot form. So the 2nd tallest compared to the others. Their vehicle mode being a 2003 Porsche Cayenne.

(Don’t ask I think its a nice care. But do feel free to educate me in the comments I don’t know cars that well.

Y/Ns colors are black with tinted red on their paint. Y/Ns robot mode being almost like a knights but modern (Much like Sentinel Primes armor in tf5) but to match more with their own alt mode. Only looking slimmer then Sentinel because of how small they are.

Their head armor looking a lot like Rodimus helmet in Transformers Animated (But if it was styled in the berverse. Think like Nightshades armor peice and how it covers a bit of their optics.)

Their optics yellow and faceplate grey like the others. Having optics that are mostly dim but brighten when feeling certain emotions. Their optics piercing in yellow that helps with their thousand yard stare. Though they aren’t always glaring at someone when they turn their attention to someone. That’s just something that happens when really they’re just- staring.

Having a few Cybertronian writings on their helm. Both back, top, and side. A it on their shoulders and arms and different parts of their body.

Always seen with a smile on their dermas even in the toughest situations under their mask and even when they take their mouth guard off. Their visors being the color blue and their mouth guard being a grey is red.

Weapons:

A thing most noticed about them is they have two swords on both side of their hips in sword handles. Their swords being long like Sentinels but not as wide. The handles in more of a dark red with a tint of black on them. But the handles being completely black. Something others might not notice too is their somewhat small gun held at their lower back. With a Y initial on the side of it. Their arms also turning into blasters.

Though they rarely use them.

Appearence Traits:

At times throughout the movies can be seen always keeping their visors on but will take their mouth guard off even when they don’t speak. They only take both their visors and mouth guard for only important moments and if they are having strong emotions. That’s when their optics really brighten.

Usually when not fighting. They can be seen either standing with one arm down and the other will be bent. Always having at least one cervo on a sword handle being on guard. Or can be seen cleaning their swords and loading their gun after each battle. It being big or small. Or training with the others, or talking to them, or just standing there listening and waiting for orders.

They rarely cross their arms.

Fighting:

They work mostly in hand in hand combat. Only using their swords to help out in fights as more then just a weapon to slash someone with. At times using different parts of their sword when they don’t wish to kill someone.

If they are really mad. Their fighting combat becomes almost like a wrestler, which is something not seen much in battle. It’s just them showing why they don’t punch as much as they do in battle.

Note: For an example of how they fight with their swords watch “The Elder Scrolls Online: High Isle Cinematic” The way the knight fights against the three characters is basically how they fight.

Traits (Sort of):

While they usually have their mouth guard down if they’re not in battle. They will at times also move their visors off as well. Mostly if its during certain situations like they’re really surprised or confused. (Plan on doing that a few times throughout.) At times they will speak but only when they’re needed to.

At times they can be seen cleaning their swords. Either it be because they have to or they’re worried and got something on their mind.

If they are really mad or just wishes to speak to the other privately. They will speak in Cybertronian. So while the others choose to speak in. They will speak in their more native language when it’s something important.

I was thinking about doing a relationship with the others part but I don’t think people will care that much and just wait to read the first chapter since that’ll show to establish their relationship when it comes to the first movie. Same thing for their backstory.

But I tell you what.

If there are people who do wish to read on their backstory and/or future relationships like a special early preview. Then let this introduction post reach at least 500 likes and I’ll give y’all a treat to help you figure out what to expect for future events!!!

Hows that? Lol.

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this and I cant wait for you guys to see the first chapter when it releases. If any of you wish to be tagged in the first chapter to know when I’ll post on Christmas just let me know.

I cant wait for you guys to read it!!! And if you wanna talk about it just leave a comment! LETS TALK!

I hope you all are having a good rest of your day and I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!

How I imagine readers hips with swords look like. (If you know the artist type in their name on here or twitter in the comments so I can add it here please I tried looking but wasn’t lucky)

#x reader #transformers #transformers x reader #bayverse idw #bayverse optimus prime #transformers bayverse #transformers movies #solarseeks

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aubvrns · 2 months ago

Note

would you be up to write for alex based on your fav songs maybee

Gold Rush — T.S

| SVU & Stories

Sypnosis — The struggle of loving Alexandra Cabot from afar, who everyone wonders what must it be like to love her.

Note — Fluff, Light Angst, Admiring from Afar, Alex being a tease but oblivious, and avoidant Reader.

(Female lawyer centered, pronouns used!)

———————————————————————

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

“Y/N? Come down here, captain’s requesting your presence for the debriefing.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in 10.” You said, tying your hair up in a ponytail before dropping the call.

You grabbed your briefcase and complied all the documents needed for the case you were working on, organizing them by size.

John usually called you whenever you were needed in the precinct right after your arraignment, but you managed to arrange your time just in case. It took you exactly ten minutes to get there by taxi, thankful for the considerate couple who let you ride before them.

Upon your entrance, you paused mid-step, a frown forming as you spotted Alex seated across from Olivia and Elliot. Your eyes swept the room, taking in the scene. "Who died?"

"Y/N, sit, no one died." Olivia chuckled, gesturing towards the empty chair beside Alex.

You sat beside the blonde and slightly moving the chair at a distance, putting your briefcase beside the chair. You can feel Alex’s gaze on you and you could only clear your throat.

"Atleast not yet." Elliot placed a file on the table and you both leaned forward to read it, although you didn’t get much far. You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest when you saw what it was about, looking at Olivia and all she could do was shrug.

"You want us to work together?" Alex questioned, her tone derisively condescending.

Elliot crossed his arms, "For this case, yes. We’ve got serial killing syndicates across Manhattan to Harlem, and we’ve processed none."

"Okay, but why me? You’ve got Casey." You asked before turning to Alex. "Not that I have anything against you, it’s just that—"

Oh my god, her blue eyes are so pretty.

Alex pursed her lips as she stared at you, "So you basically hate me? Okay, that’s alright."

You rolled your eyes, instinctively looking away before she could see your rose tinted cheeks.

"Casey’s on a well-deserved vacation. She isn’t coming back in a week, give the poor woman a break."

The brunette uttered, "Besides, you guys are best suited for this case. Together."

You sigh, fixating on your watch before Elliot touched your shoulder to get your attention. "Y/N, c’mon."

"When do we start anyway? So far, your evidence is still circumstantial." Alex asked, crossing her arms.

"Fin and Munch called from Bellevue. Estelle Bauldelaire was overdosed with Hallucinogens. Guess who was indicted for running an underground drug cartel?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, reading the file once again when he added,

"Her con girlfriend."

—

I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush I don’t like how anyone would die to feel your touch

Alex groaned at the columns that was messily distributed on the carpet. Her hands folding the papers, clearly frustrated. "This is sickening."

You sat on the floor with her, leaning back to the edge of the couch before helping her categorize the files.

"Don’t be so dramatic, Cabot. We haven’t even started yet."

She dragged an exasperated exhale and composing herself together. This wasn’t the first time you both worked on a case. The last case you’ve worked on together was successful at most, winning effortlessly.

Unfortunately, the only disadvantage was that you have had a something for her in forever.

A feeling in your chest that you couldn’t shake off everytime she was ever near you. How your cheeks heated up when she gives you the minimum of attention.

It was ridiculous. The way you couldn’t make eye contact when she was talking to you. You honestly felt like a teenager obsessing for sweaty basketball players during Field Day, that was exactly how it was with Alex.

"How can we work on our arguments when we don’t even have an indictment yet?" The blonde reasoned as she sipped from her coffee mug.

You played with the brim of the paper, "Well, Estelle is bound to go to trial. All we can do is sit here and wait."

A moment passed and the silence was deafening. You two were skimming throughout the textbooks following the Bauldelaire case, writing on colored sticky notes.

Then, a knock came onto the door, disrupting the adequate peace.

"Lex?" An unfamiliar man seeps in the door. Alex smiled and stood up, walking over to him.

With her hand on the side of the door, they talked together remotely which leaves you with your lonely, forlorn self. You wondered what on earth could be so funny that you heard Alex laugh, the soft sound warming your heart.

Alex welcomed him to her office, introducing him to you. "Y/N, this is Dr. Huang. If you don’t mind, he’ll stay here for awhile."

The doctor waved his hand to you, offering a warm smile before reaching to shake your hand.

You accepted, shaking your head in response, "No worries, I was about to leave anyway." Your nails dig against your palm, fixated on the documents you reviewed before uncluttering the mess.

Really, when you said we haven’t even started? Alex thought and watching you clean after yourself. She didn’t want you to go so soon, but assumed it was because of the unfamiliarity.

You wish you hadn’t made such a disorganized space. It was awkward to crawl on the floor as the two chat in front of you. You saw how he fixed her hair, tucking it behind her ears, making you want to crawl out of your skin.

Fortunately, you finished putting all the documents and notes inside your briefcase. With a simple glance, you take in Alex once again. Looking at her smile as she talked to the doctor made you wish it was you she was talking to.

Bidding goodbye, you exit the office with a heavy exhale, alongside a heavy heart.

—

Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don’t like slow motion, double vision in a rose blush

A few days later, you had finished practicing, done reviewing, and gone to the precinct.

You stopped at a local bistro to order coffee, from a very pleading request by the captain. They forgot to restock their needs, and luckily, you were patient enough to buy some.

You got out of your car, firmly holding the cups as you press the buttons on the elevator.

When you arrived to the floor, you were swarmed by alot of civilians. They kept yelling, being strided away by the detectives.

Because of the cramped area, you were pushed by the people backwards causing you to spill a cup of coffee to a woman’s shirt.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" The lady barked, causing you to flinch slightly at the volume of her voice.

"I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

The next thing you know, a hot, searing pain came running down your shirt. You wince in affliction, dropping the rest of the cups on a table before escorting yourself out of the room. You were truly sorry, but you couldn’t handle the embarassment of it all.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty.

You locked the door, taking your blazer off. Luckily, you have always brought an extra shirt in your briefcase.

But your smile quickly falters when you realize you left it in your car.

Closing your eyes, you accepted defeat. You should have been more careful, and if you were, you wouldn’t have been drenched in coffee.

A knock came to the door caught your attention. You hands frantically put on your blazer, "Wait a second!" You exclaimed, unable to hook the buttons properly.

"It’s Alex. You okay in there?"

You slowly opened the door, revealing the concerned woman. You bite your lip in unease and let her inside the comfort room.

"Can you give these to the woman and tell her I feel sorry? It should be enough to dry her shirt."

You handed her a packet of wipes. But instead of accepting it, she took a wipe and rubbed it on your what-was-once pristine shirt.

"You shouldn’t feel sorry, Y/L/N. What she said and did was so out of line. It was just an accident."

You slightly panic, feeling her wipe your skin. Out of the awkwardness, you gently take the wipe from her, "Thank you. I really think I should get home, though,"

She gave you this sorry look, taking your hand in hers before opening her mouth to speak. "I’ll tell the others you had an emergency. But why did you buy coffee?"

"Captain called me asking if I had time to stop by. Why?"

"I already bought the squad coffee with Huang. Olivia asked us before we left my office."

Oh.

You’ve been waiting for twenty minutes for their order, swarmed by half the population, and drenched in caffeine. In conlusion, you went through the depths of hell.

You let out a breathy exhale, exhausted and uncomfortable. Your eyes stared to prickle, and you knew you had to leave.

"I have to go."

As you walked out of the bathroom, the feeling of your hands leave hers. Alex called out, "Y/N, wait—"

Alex followed after you, only to be called out by Dr. Huang. She stops, her eyes drop apologetically and watching you walk away.

She saw your eyes glance back at her, with George beside her. Your tired eyes, closing with the doors of the elevator.

She didn’t want you to go.

If only you knew.

—

But I don’t like a gold rush What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore

The evening passed fairly quickly, a storm brewing in the sky. You had took a long shower, yet the sting left a bruise. You applied ointment on your chest, squirming at the desolation. You were unsure if it was just the sting that hurt you, or the fact that you were jealous.

You had no right to, anyway. It’s just that you and Alex once picked up coffee for the squad, and hearing her do the same with someone else hurt your feelings. But you weren’t special. You were just a colleague.

Her warmth remained like the sun. So tender, yet so far. You could only watch as she shines her light for others, dreaming you were her favorite flower.

When you came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you, the doorbell rang.

It was late in the evening, who could be outside your apartment this behind?

You walked down the stairs, the towel secured around your body. You look out the window, and you saw a familiar blonde.

You open the door, close to ajar. "What are you doing here? It’s raining, Alex." You opened the door, a gesture for her to come in.

She was damp, assuming she ran from her car to your doorstep. You rushed to give her fresh towel, placing it over her shoulders.

"We aren’t dating."

"What?"

"We aren’t dating."

You narrow your eyes in confusion, "What do you mean, Alex?" You close the door before the rain seeps into your apartment.

"Me and Huang, We aren’t—"

She was crying.

You stood there, unsure what to do. You have never saw Alex cry, let alone infront of you. You quiver in silence, letting her proceed.

"We aren’t dating, okay? So stop running away from me like you hate me!" She blurted, her composed mask slipped away.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean I hate you? I don’t hate you, Alex!"

Even if I tried to.

She wiped her eyes, breathing uneven, "Then why do you keep avoiding me? Why do you keep bolting away when I’m trying to be there for you?"

"It’s because I like you, okay!"

Alex stared at you in shock, her attention was drawn to your nails digging your palm. A habit you did when you were tense. She noticed. She always had.

"I liked you from the moment I met you, and the feeling never went away. I tried to convince myself that I didn’t, but I couldn’t. How could I possibly do when simply seeing you makes my heart beat out of my chest? It’s—," You breathe, your heartbeat quickened as she looked at you.

"It’s ridiculous, and I avoid you because of it. I know you don’t feel the same way, Alex. But I told you because I don’t hate you. I really don’t—"

Alex cut you off with a soft kiss and Oh, Her lips are so soft- She brought her hand to cup your cheek as your hands went up over her neck.

You traced her jawline with your thumb as you kissed while her other hand was at your waist delicately digging your fingers into your towel, holding your body close.

You pulled away, breathing heavily.

She stared at you, her hands remained on your waist. In her eyes, with ever so adoration, looked into yours.

"How do you know I don’t feel the same way? Are you psychic? Because I do, from the moment I met you."

Quoting your words, you were lost for any. You expected her to let you go, but her arms stayed where as they were.

"I won’t let you run away again, ever." Her head found its way to the crook of your neck, feeling her inhale your scent.

"But what about Dr. Huang? Doesn't he like you?" You softly said. Remaining still as you savor the moment between you and the blonde, she pressed a kiss to your shoulder blades.

"God, I forgot your gaydar was so bad."

#valwrites .ᐟ #law and order: svu #law and order svu #alexandra cabot #alex cabot #alexandra cabot x reader #alex cabot x reader #olivia benson x reader #elliot stabler x reader #george huang #john munch #casey novak #light angst #fluff

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alexa-fika · 11 months ago

Text

Chiefs And Brothers( Sabo x gn!Sibling!Reader)

A/N surprise another from the prompt List from @me-writes-prompts. Yall LET ME TELL YOU I COOKED, THREE STAR MICHELIN RIGHT HERE 🫦🫦. Now if I could do the same on that 4-6 page essay I have yet to do that would be wonderful.

Prompt: "We have a meeting in 10 minutes." "What meeting?" "The one to discuss your resignation."

Dividers by @/saradika

“Come in,” he calls, glancing up and smiling at their sibling coming in

“Hey, We have a meeting in 10 minutes.”

“What meeting?” The chief of staff questions, confused; he had not been informed of any meeting, which would be weird considering he was the second command

“The one Discussing your resignation,” They deadpanned

He sighs, a small smile growing on his scarred face.

“You’re still mad,” he states

“I don’t know what you mean.” They retort

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold in a little chuckle.

“Don’t even,” he says, a smirk curling onto his face as he stands up, walking close to Reader

“I mean, how could you, Sabo? You sent the recruit on a mission; meanwhile, me, your sibling, mind you, have been stuck here for a month!”

“The recruit needed some experience,” he said smiling softly

“While you need experience in patience,” he quips

They sputter a scoff

“I am patient enough. I have dealt with you Ace’s and Luffy’s antics for years, so I believe that proves my point!”

“Would Hardly call you patient even back when we were with Dadan, always so violent, first one to hand out punches when we fought among us” He says teasingly

“T-th- You guys were a handful! I was younger, so I needed to make a point somehow!”

“I rest my Case.”

“That doesn’t have to do with this anyways,” they exclaim, knowing they weren’t going anywhere with this

“You just proved my point, Reader; you need to learn that sometimes you’ll have to be patient and levelheaded.”

He can tell that this is a hard pill for them to swallow, and Sabo was enjoying it way too much

They groan

“I should have accepted Luffy’s offer to join him, hell even Ace’s man crew would be better than this!”

They walk closer to Reader and, pulling at their cheeks, a tight smile now replacing their teasing grin

“Like I said, impatient.”

“Oouch Sabo, that hurts.” They whine trying to escape his grip

His smirk grew wider as he continued to hold their cheeks

“I said you need to learn how to wait, didn’t I?”

“Let goo,” they whine

He lets go of their cheeks after hearing them whine.

He backs off a little bit, not wanting to anger them too much.

“You can be incredibly cute, you know that?” He says in almost a sing-song voice

They rub their cheeks with a pout

“You’re mean, Sabo.”

“Oh? If that’s the case, then I guess I just have to fill up your expectations.” He said getting closer

“Don’t you dare, you ass!” They scream backing up

He snickers softly

“What's Wrong? I thought the cryptanalyst wanted to take the chief of staff on?”

“Sabo, get away from me!”

He grins easily, getting a hold of them

“Heh, not so smart now, are ya?” he teases as he starts to noogie them

They screech, fighting against his hold

“I should just pick you up; you’re so tiny I probably wouldn’t even have to try too much.”

They quickly put their leg behind his, pulling it forward knocking them to the ground, not taking into account that he would keep his hold on them and bringing them to the ground with him

He grins as he switches their position, putting them in a headlock, wrapping his legs around them

“Okay, okay! I give, I give!”

He lets go of his legs, slowly releasing the headlock, smiling down at them

“That's what I thought.”

They glare at him as he sits on the love seat on his office, leaning back and leaving them on the ground to catch their breath

“Come on, Sabo, when will you give me field missions!”

“You’re a cryptanalyst, not a front fighter; you’re not ready for the front lines, you’ll die within minutes as you are.” He replies bluntly

“I did just take you down within the minute.”

They raise their body up slightly to glare at him

“You’re the chief of staff; of course, you would take me down! Not everyone is a tank like you, Sabo, not to mention you are an actual tank with your Mera-Mera, that's a faulty test.”

“I never had to resort to using my fruit; even without it, I still managed to overwhelm you. You're a cryptoanalyst, not to mention you’re also our language expert; you’re essential to the Revolutionary Army Reader, and we need you in here; can’t lose you,” He said, pouring tea into two cups

“Come on, Sabo! Just once, I want to be able to crack codes while in the field!”

He sighs, taking a sip of their tea before continuing

“Reader, you alone lead our intelligence network; you are not built for battle, not to mention that regardless of how much of a hothead you are-

“OI!”

-you’re still quite the pacifist, and as your big brother, I have to keep you safe,” he finishes, not paying any mind to their protests

“Then what if I go on a mission with you? You can make sure I don’t get in over my head.”

He pauses a moment deep thought.

“Please, Sabo! I promise I'll listen to your orders, and I'll back up as soon as you think it’s too much, just once, please?” They said, putting their hands together

He raises an eyebrow at them

“You’ll listen to me?” He confirms

“Yes!”

“Promise?”

“I promise!”

He sighs again and rolls his eyes, smiling

“fine, one mission and you better listen well.”

“Yes! Im going to the field!” They cheer, jumping up from their position excitedly

“Guess we don’t need that meeting after all!”

“Wait. You actually set up a meeting?”

“Hah….Well, before you let it sink in, remember that im you’re sibling, and you love me very much,” they squeak

He just put his tea down, facing them with another tight smile, although this one looked vastly tighter than his previous one as he stood up slowly

“S-Sabo, let’s be mature about this!”

“Oh, I will, don’t worry,” he said, punching his open arm in a threatening manner, his flames coating his fist as he did

Dragon in his office be like 🙃.Yall do you guys think my stories are getting bad? Or like predictable? Can’t help but notice how repetitive some things are.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #sabo x reader #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #sabo #flame emperor sabo #op sabo #sabo x sibling!reader #one piece scenario

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belphegor1982 · 5 months ago

Note

Scanlan with 17, if you feel so inclined ✨

(17. Tending to an injury/wound/illness from the Put That Guy in a Situation™ Ask Game/Prompt list)

*rubs hands* You know, it just so happens that I had an idea floating in my head and that I was able to use it for your prompt. Thought it might be a nice little 1,000-word story, maaaaybe 2,000, but instead have this 6,100 word behemoth! Thank you so much for the opportunity to write for these characters 💜 I'll post it on AO3 ASAP!

—

Friends in Low Places

“—og! Grog! Scanlan! Can you hear me?”

There’s a voice in Grog’s ear, piercing through the fog, and he makes an effort to shake the cobwebs because Pike almost sounds scared and she never does.

It works, and he realises a few things in rapid succession:

Pike is calling through the earring.

They were all fighting some big beast with lots of teeth and claws. Now they’re not. (At least Grog isn’t.)

They were in a cave, deep underground, and the fight happened right next to a really big drop. Presumably Grog is still in the cave, just… a lot lower.

And last, he’s covered in rocks and pebbles and dirt like a blanket, curled up on himself around something warm and small –

Oh, that’s another thing: Scanlan is alive, too. His breath is coming hard and fast against the middle of Grog’s chest, tickling the scar tissue there, and he’s clutching Grog so tight Grog can almost feel the sting of nails. (Grog likes to think he has really thick skin, so that’s saying something.)

“Guys, speak up if you’re okay – or at least alive,” comes another voice, sharper. Vex.

Grog feels Scanlan move around a little.

“I don’t know about ‘okay’,” he croaks, like the inside of his throat is coated in dust, same as Grog. His voice makes a weird echo in the earring. “But, uh, the other thing, I guess.”

Scanlan is one of those people who often uses more words than necessary. Grog doesn’t mind; that’s just how he is. Besides, Scanlan being tricky with words is a good thing more often than not.

Still, Grog unlocks one of his arms to touch his own earring and says, “We’re good.”

There’s an assortment of relieved noises in his ear. Instead of trying to make out what Vex, Vax, Percy and Keyleth are saying (that would take too long), he zeroes in on Pike’s voice. It shakes just a little still when she asks, “Do you think you can climb back up?”

Good question. Grog unfolds completely – realising in the process that he’s been wrapped around Scanlan, who also slowly lets go of him – and looks up.

And up.

Not that he can see all that well in the dark, even with the dull light of some of the weird worms Keyleth said are attracted to warm spots, but man, this cliff is high. And, unfortunately, way too steep to climb.

“I don’t think so,” says Scanlan, his head tilted real far back, and Grog remembers gnomes can see pretty well in the dark. “I can’t even see you guys.”

“Man, this is deep. How the hell are you still alive?” There’s wonder in Vax’s voice. Now that Grog thinks about it, yeah, that’s a good question.

They’ve been hired by a local mine owner to kill a monster that mangled and munched on some miners; nobody was sure what it was, other than pointy, dangerous, and probably hungry. After two days underground the S.H.I.T.s finally found the thingy – a big beast with long spikes on its tail and fangs that had to be worth a lot of gold each. Grog, who still had no idea what it was except ‘a future corpse’ (and didn’t really care), called it ‘the thingy’. Then, since it just wouldn’t die, apparently, not without trying to take all of them with it, he called it ‘that fucker’ as he hacked at it with his great axe, grinning all the while (gods, whaling on monsters is fun). And then none of that shit mattered, because it scuttled back and swept its tail behind in a wide arc, aiming for the spot Scanlan stood at a safe distance hitting it with magic (and hitting them with healing spells).

Grog completely stopped enjoying himself or wondering what the creature was called. Instinct took over. He bolted between the spikes and his friend and the giant tail knocked them both over the edge of a drop.

Neither of them died, so clearly it was the best decision.

“What happened to the thingy?�� he asks as Scanlan opens his mouth to answer Vax’s question. That seems more of a pressing concern.

“Oh, it’s dead,” comes Keyleth’s voice, then some shuffling as Grog pictures her nudging something heavy with her foot. “Yup, very dead. Ew.”

“I’ll put a handful of fangs into the bag of holding,” says Vex, sounding like she’s not exactly looking forward to it, “so we can show them to Barandiaran and get paid. A couple of those spikes, too. Doesn’t look like they’re venomous, but they might be worth something. Oh, and Keyleth picked up your axe, Grog.”

“Hey, thanks, Keyleth.” Grog feels a little naked without his great axe, but at least he knows it’s in good hands and he’s gonna get it back soon.

Scanlan, who’s been looking a little put out that Grog cut him off, crosses his arms and looks vaguely upwards, in the direction Grog assumes the rest of their friends are.

“Yeah, that’s nice. What about us? How do we come up?”

“I’m not sure you can,” Percy remarks, sounding distracted, like he’s thinking hard. Just as Grog and Scanlan glance at each other in alarm, he continues, “So I guess we’ll have to go to you. Do you see a way out?”

“Hah, yeah sure, we… Wait.” Scanlan peers towards the back of the cavern which, to Grog, looks exactly like the sides of the cavern – utterly dark. “Hang on, I think we actually passed this way earlier on our way up. It’s not far from where we last set up camp to lunch-dinner-whatever.”

“Are you sure?”

If it was anyone else than Pike who asked, Grog is fairly sure Scanlan would have said something snarky; but Scanlan is funny about Pike. Even in the dark at a foot of a cliff, where she can’t see him, he beams like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure I’m sure! I dropped an apple core not far from here – pretty sure I can find it again if nothing ate it in the meantime.”

“Do not move,” says Vex, almost as sharp as when she demanded a sign of life from them. “Seriously. Stay put, we’re coming down to meet you. You’re closer to the way out anyway, we’ll be retracing our steps.”

“Sure you’re both okay?” Pike asks. “Not hurt?”

Grog smiles. As usual, he took some damage in the fight, scuffs and scrapes and things – he’s definitely gonna have new scars on his shoulder and his thigh – but he’s super tough and he heals fast. And apart from a few bruises of his own Scanlan doesn’t move like someone who’s injured.

They both reply in the negative. Scanlan’s answer is longer and more flowery. Pike says, “…O–kay,” a little uncertain, but it sounds more like she’s still worried rather than her usual disconcerted and/or amused response to Scanlan being Scanlan. Then, because she’s the best, she adds just for Grog, “See you soon, buddies” before the earrings go silent as they walk away and out of range.

The scratch on his thigh is smarting a little and sending tingles down his leg, so Grog makes himself comfortable on the ground while Scanlan stares up the cliff with a funny look on his face.

“That really was a hell of a drop, huh.” He looks back at Grog and smiles. “Thanks, bud. I think I would’ve looked like one of those fancy holey cheeses if you hadn’t been there.”

Grog shrugs. “I mean, it’s not a big deal.” Then, as Scanlan gets a look on his face like he disagrees and it is a big deal, “Hey, by the way, did you do somethin’? ‘Cause for a second there I thought we were gonna go splat.”

He registered sensations as they fell, other than the wind whistling in his ears and his body trying to curl into the tightest ball imaginable to protect his insides and Scanlan’s. A muffled voice against his chest, a warm tingle enveloping him, the impression that the world slowed down for a couple of heartbeats before he crashed into the ground. Either he developed powers – which he doesn’t rule out, maybe he is a secret wizard and just didn’t know it till then – or Scanlan used his own.

It’s hard to see in the mostly-dark, but he thinks Scanlan looks miffed at the ‘no big deal’ for a second before he shakes his head and grins.

“Well, yeah. I had one spell left in me and I wasn’t about to—what the hell, Grog, is that blood yours!?”

His face went from smiling to shocked in the middle of his sentence. Grog frowns and looks down.

Oh.

Yeah.

Shit.

The scratch on his leg isn’t very big, but turns out it’s a lot deeper than he thought. One of the thingy’s tail spikes must have gone deep into the meat of his thigh. It doesn’t hurt more than the kind of injury that takes care of itself with a bit of rest, so Grog honestly hasn’t noticed till now, but it’s bleeding steadily, probably has been since their fall. There would be a little puddle of blood on the ground under his knee if rivulets weren’t slowly trickling down the slow incline and around the bigger pebbles. The back of his trouser leg is warm and sticky almost down to the top of his boot.

“Huh,” says Grog, blinking down. At least that explains the pins and needles in his leg. “That’s, uh. Not. Good?”

“Not good, sure, let’s go with that.” Scanlan hurries closer and starts rummaging around Grog’s belt and trousers. Good thing Grog isn’t ticklish.

“Lookin’ for something?”

“Yeah, the bag – where is it?”

“I don’t have the bag,” says Grog, who doesn’t like that Scanlan’s usual grin disappeared. Scanlan’s always smiling. “I gave it to Keyleth, and she gave it to Percy.”

“Gave it to… Why?”

“He wanted to keep working on a ‘project’ bigger than his pepperbox. Said he needed the bag to keep the parts.”

“Okay, but you don’t happen to have a healing potion on you, do you?”

“Nah, they’re all in the bag. That’s also why I gave it to Keyleth: you lot need those potions way more than me.”

Scanlan stops frisking him and stares up at him.

“I guess, but what happens when you need one and you don’t have any on hand?”

“Then Pike heals me, gets me back up. Or Keyleth, or Vex, or you. I mean, you have magic, right?”

“Sorry, big guy,” Scanlan says slowly, “I’m beat. I don’t have anything useful left – most I can do right now is try to send a message thirty feet away or hurt somebody’s feelings, and neither works on rocks.” He searches his own pockets and adds with a grimace, “Damn, I don’t even have the fun stuff on me.”

“What fun stuff?”

“Just straps and ribbons and things.” Grog blinks; Scanlan shrugs. “You never know when you’re gonna meet somebody who’s down with a bit of bondage. But they’re all in my pack, and I put my pack in the bag of holding –”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because it was heavy and I wanted to move quickly in case we found the thingy, or the other way around!”

That’s… a good reason, Grog muses. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that not everyone has his muscles and endurance.

Scanlan stands there for a second, his hands in his pockets, slouching slightly. He bites his lip, looks at Grog’s leg, and shrugs off the leather vest he uses as armour. Then he starts to undo the few buttons on his shirt that aren’t already undone.

“Uhh,” says Grog, baffled, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m stripping.”

“Okay, but why? Oh, you mean you wanna, like, bang?”

Grog knows Scanlan likes having sex, a lot. Which is fair; so does Grog. Having sex is awesome. But this is Scanlan, his second best little buddy, the guy who never balks at going with him to houses of lady favours, one of the very few people he knows who never talk down to him or treat him like he’s too stupid to understand things. Grog loves him a lot, and the thought of having sex with people he loves is too weird to contemplate.

Also, while a few girls Grog had the best kind of naked fun with had dicks, he’s never been with a dude, and he has a feeling it’d be kinda weird, too.

So he sits up straighter and tries to recall the words Pike taught him in case someone was interested in him and he wasn’t.

“’Cause if you do, I am sorry,” he says, sounding out each word carefully, “you are a great person and I respect you very much, but I am not attracted to you like that.”

He must have got it right on the first try, because Scanlan chuckles as he takes off his shirt.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, buddy. Don’t worry, though, I will do my best to live with the sting of rejection.”

He eyes his shirt, then Grog’s thigh, and makes a whole-body eh gesture before walking right up to Grog. “No, my big, incredibly sexy goliath friend, I’m not trying to woo you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d totally be DTF if, you know, you were interested and I’d get to not be dead by the time we’re done, but that’s not why you’re getting a strip tease.”

“So?” asks Grog, still puzzled. It was warm in the part of the cave where they fought the thingy; Keyleth said it’s because of some gas that makes it smell like walking into a fart at times. But Scanlan usually gets cold way before he does. Why did he take off his clothes?

“So, while we’re waiting for the others to waltz back in and save the day…” Scanlan stops, cocks his head to the side. “By which I mostly mean Pike. She’s amazing like that. Hopefully she still has energy for some spells left – but failing that, a bag full of healing potions works, too. Anyway,” he adds, crouching in front of Grog and trying to wedge the shirt under his thigh as gingerly as he can, “while we’re waiting, you’re getting a bandage so you don’t bleed to death. Or rather the funny word Vex said that time, way back, before Pike came into the picture… You know, the thing she tied around Vax’s arm when he got stabbed bad… What was it – sounded kinky, like pourniquey, or… Tourniquet! That’s it!”

The triumphant grin turns into a grimace when he has to pull on his shirt with all his might to fasten it properly. He’s so small there’s almost not enough material to tie a really tight knot, even when Grog gives him a hand and pulls on the sleeves as hard as he dares. So Grog also keeps his right hand firmly on the wound, half at Scanlan’s insistence and half because of a dim memory from when he was really young, of seeing a fellow member of the Herd clutching a gushing wound to keep the blood inside while other people ran for a healer. His father made him watch so he’d toughen out. Grog guesses it worked.

When they’re done, Scanlan takes a step back and a satisfied look at his handiwork with his fists on his hips.

“There you go. Deluxe bandage. I’ll be taking that shirt back when you’re done with it, though. That’s imported silk from Marquet.”

Grog watches the blood slowly seep into the fabric, dark on white, and frowns.

“Scanlan?”

“Yes, bud.”

“Do you really think I’ll bleed to death? ‘Cause that would be a shitty way to go.”

Scanlan’s eyebrows go up, his smile goes down. He goes to sit on Grog’s left and elbows him in the side.

“What? No, Grog, come on. You’ll probably go out fighting dragons and hydras, only you’ll be so old by then people will wonder How the hell is he still alive and still so awesome? Also, who is that extremely handsome gnome bard who seems so chummy with him? Do you think they’re single? Unless you’d prefer to die peacefully in your bed, surrounded by your kids and grandkids. That might not be so bad, either.”

“Pssh, are you kidding me?” Grog scoffs. “That last one sounds lame. I prefer the other one, it’s badass. Plus I’m a dude, so it’s not like I can have kids, right?”

Scanlan scrunches up his face.

“I mean. You don’t get to, you know, grow them inside you, but you do get to help make ‘em if you want some. As far as I know that’s the fun part anyway.”

Then, as Grog nods and does his best to look knowledgeable, he gives him a funny look.

“Grog.”

“Yes?”

“You… do know how kids happen, right?”

“Obviously,” says Grog, who has little to no idea, but who’d rather get stabbed by a thingy again rather than admit it.

Scanlan shuffles forward to perch himself on Grog’s good leg, just before his knee, and squints up at him.

“Okay. Spill. Where do you think babies come from?”

“’That a trick question?” Grog scratches the back of his head and tries to dredge up relevant memories. The topic’s never been of much interest to him. “Well, sometimes ladies get big, so they go to the healer’s tent and, well, they make the babies, I guess.”

About a year after he came to live with the Trickfoots, Pop-Pop Wilhand tried to explain what that entailed exactly. His explanation was long, rambly, and full of embarrassed hemming and throat-clearing. He said something about a man and a woman loving each other very much, then segued into flowers and bees, and by the time he reached the tadpoles Grog had checked out completely. He listened politely, or rather waited for Wilhand to finish his speech so he could go outside and help Pike chop up wood. Wilhand did so with relief and the pleased look of someone having Done Their Duty, and Grog walked away wondering what the hell that was about.

Technically he could ask Pike about it, of course, but he won’t. Either she got the same talk and didn’t understand either, or she knows a lot more than him and he’d look like an idiot.

It’s always hard to read Scanlan at the best of times, but at least he’s not laughing at Grog, just staring at him like he’s expecting more.

“Uh-huh. Okay. But before that?”

Grog is sitting in a puddle of blood that isn’t even someone else’s, his thigh started throbbing while he wasn’t paying attention, and he hates feeling cornered like this. His patience has limits. He crosses his arms against his chest and says in a huff, “I don’t know, mate, that looked like none of my business, so I didn’t ask, okay? Nobody ever managed to explain that shit properly, anyway, so I figured it was magic. Just works and no one really knows how.”

Scanlan looks blank for a few seconds. Then he smiles widely, and to Grog’s relief it’s not the kind of smile that means he’s gonna say something snarky.

“It’s not magic, buddy – well, not that kind of magic, anyway. It’s just sex.”

“What?” asks Grog gruffly.

“People make kids by having sex.”

“You’re messin’ with me.”

“I’m not!” exclaims Scanlan, throwing up his hands in the air. “I promise!”

Grog pauses to think. “…Really?”

“Yep. That’s why I said helping make them was the fun part, not actually making them.”

He did say that. Grog thinks some more.

“So… a dude really can’t, like. Grow a baby.”

“If he has a vag and the right insides, sure he can.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“But you need at least two people to bump uglies for that. One of each set.”

Grog taps his finger against his chin. “So, uh. How’s that work?”

And Scanlan explains, matter-of-factly, with normal words and all sorts of expressive gestures, what goes where and how. It doesn’t sound all that complicated. Why so many people clam up and go red about it is just baffling.

But then something disturbing occurs to him.

“Scanlan?”

“Oi?”

“Do I help make a baby every time I visit a house of lady favours?”

“Nah,” says Scanlan confidently. “There’s potions and cantrips for that kind of stuff. These ladies are pros, they know what they’re doing.”

“And the ladies that aren’t pros?”

Scanlan looks thoughtful for all of two seconds. Then he waves the thought away. “Like I said, potions and cantrips. I’m sure it’s fine. If you don’t forget to pull out in time it’s all hunky dory.”

“Oh, good.”

Then he remembers he’s supposed to keep a hand on his thigh, to help the doohickey do its thing. After he presses his palm flat on the wound again, though, he lifts his hand again to glance at it real quick, and frowns.

There’s a lot of blood on and under his leg. More than before. His palm drips with it and some of it is seeping up on the back of his hand from between his fingers. The doohickey did slow down the flow, but Grog’s pretty sure that so much blood on the outside rather than the inside is a bad sign. So’s the tingling that started in his fingers and has been creeping up to his elbows in the last few minutes.

Nothing he or Scanlan can do anything about, though, so he doesn’t bring it up.

Scanlan is humming absently, still sitting on Grog’s good leg. He leans back and yawns, then mutters, “Where’d they go, by way of Wildemount? We didn’t take so long going up, right?”

Grog shrugs. Without the sun or the night sky it’s always hard to tell the passage of time, so he stopped trying. Maybe it’s night outside and his body knows it, hence the impression that the ground is leeching warmth from his bones.

“Gettin’ cold too, huh?” he asks with a jerk of his chin to Scanlan’s bare chest. Scanlan shakes his head.

“Gods, no. This place is more stuffy than the Nine Hells. Well, maybe not literally, it’s probably even hotter down there, but I’m not sure it smells worse. Like… farts and rotten eggs. Ugh.”

“Can’t be that warm if I’m getting cold,” Grog points out, lower than he means to. Wait, when did it get hard to speak at a normal volume?

And why are his eyelids so heavy all of a sudden?

Scanlan’s gaze whips up to his face then down to his leg so fast Grog has trouble following. He springs up and sits astride Grog’s other knee, close enough to press a hand on the wound, right next to Grog’s. His hand is so tiny that it immediately looks like he dunked it in blood.

“Shit,” he says in a tone so sober it sends a chill up Grog’s spine. With the other hand he touches his earring. “Guys, can you hear me? Pike? Pike, we need you here, fast, it’s… Ah, fuck.”

Nobody answers. They’re still out of range. Numbers are stupid and make no sense, but ‘five hundred feet’ suddenly sounds like a lot anyway.

Numbers are stupid; Grog isn’t. He doesn’t need to be able to count to weigh up the odds and see that they’re starting to look bad. Like, bad bad.

The shirt Scanlan used as a doohickey has gone almost completely red, for one. So has the hand he’s pressing into Grog’s thigh with so much force – for him – Grog actually feels the weight of it. Maybe Grog should worry more about the dark that’s creeping up on the edges of his vision, but at this point it feels like too much pointless effort.

“Hey!”

Scanlan snaps his fingers in his face, making him start awake.

“None of that, you’re not going anywhere. Come on, you just gotta wait for the others. They’ll be here soon. Guys? I’m serious, get your asses down here stat. Tell you what, I’m gonna keep talking till one of you replies. I’m going to annoy the shit out of you and you’ll hurry back here just to get me to shut up. How’s that sound?”

Still no answer. Scanlan throws his head back and lets out a string of very creative swears. If Grog wasn’t halfway gone he’d congratulate him.

Gods, it is a shitty way to go. Bleeding out in the dark after fighting a thingy he didn’t even get to kill. Fighting dragons and hydras when he’s really old would’ve been so much more badass.

Somehow, without meaning to and even without much breath left, the words must have passed his lips, because he could swear Scanlan turns pale.

“Stop it, okay? You’re not helping. Forget the thingy, you’re not dying now just because of… Godsdammit! Guys! Help! Pike!”

The last word sends a jolt throughout Grog’s body. Pike is kind and bright, fierce and strong; she loves drinking and fighting and helping people. She would get sad if he died, and the world isn’t right when Pike is sad. Scanlan gets it. He’s always trying to make her smile or laugh.

“Come on, buddy, please don’t – PIKE! Oh guys, thank gods, just – no, shut up, get the fuck over here now! Pike… Please…”

Scanlan’s voice cracks a little on the last word. Grog didn’t know it could do that.

The last thought that successfully takes shape in his brain is that maybe this isn’t such a shitty way to go, after all. He saved Scanlan from the thingy, and Scanlan saved them both from the fall; and sure, he’s not taking a big badass monster with him, but he’s dying with a good friend at his side. It would have been a bummer to die alone, in the ass crack of the world, with miles and miles of rock between him and the open sky.

Grog’s right hand goes slack and slides down from his thigh.

Scanlan makes a strangled noise.

“Grog, don’t you fucking dare—”

Everything stops.

* * *

“—og. Grog. Can you hear me?”

There’s a voice in Grog’s ears, piercing through the fog, and he makes an effort to shake the cobwebs because Pike definitely sounds scared and she never does.

…Wait. This feels weirdly familiar, like a dream he’s already had.

Time pauses, rewinds. Grog recalls a fight, a fall, a friend – yeah, that definitely happened. His right thigh aches dimly, and exhaustion is weighing his bones. That tracks. But also, he’s alive, which definitely doesn’t.

Plus there’s a wet nose that smells of bear nuzzling the side of his head.

Voices burst out (“Hey furball! Back off, let him breathe!” vs. “Trinket, darling, give him some space”), but as usual there’s only one Grog really pays attention to.

Sure enough, when he works his eyes open, Pike is crouching just in front of him, very pale but smiling, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. Her holy symbol is still glowing faintly from between her clenched fingers and her dark hair is falling out of her crown of braids.

“Hey, buddies,” she whispers. “Welcome back.”

Her voice quivers a little, but the small hand laid on his chest is perfectly steady. Maybe it’s the residual warmth of whatever spell she hit him with, maybe it’s just because he’s surprised and happy to find himself not dead after all, or maybe it’s because he just loves Pike a whole lot and he’s glad to see her – the last vestiges of cold leave him.

“Hi, Pike.” He frowns. “Did I die?”

She chuckles, and lets go of her pendant to wipe her nose on her sleeve.

“No. Well. Maybe just a little,” she says, still with that weird combo of big smile and wobbling voice. “You gave all of us a hell of a scare, you know.”

All of us?

Indeed, now Grog’s eyes focus farther than Pike in the light of a torch planted into the ground, there’s Keyleth, staring at him with wide eyes, shoulders trembling just a little; Vax, a look of naked relief on his face so stark it startles Grog; Vex, one hand gripping Trinket’s fur and the other grasping Grog’s good leg – whether to prop herself up or to physically make sure he’s indeed alive is anyone’s guess; Percy, both fists clenching and unclenching as though of their own accord, breathing much too deeply and carefully to be natural; and Scanlan, sat slumped near Grog, his face almost as white as his shirt was before he took it off. Blood coats both his hands past the wrists and his eyes are almost as shiny as Pike’s.

“Told you,” he says with a weak smile, “dragons and hydras. Not some random thingy in a cave that smells like farts and rotten eggs. Also –”

He holds up the bag of holding and fishes out a sparkling red bottle that he hands out to Grog.

“There you go, big guy. Bottoms up.”

The healing potion must be one of the really good ones. It goes through Grog like a trail of fire, energy fizzing to his fingers and down to his toes. He doesn’t usually need potions to heal, so it’s odd to feel flesh knitting itself up and blood rushing along his veins again. His limbs still feel weird, and he has a feeling he’s going to need some rest before he’s back to full health, but life and strength are flowing through him once more.

Turns out Scanlan was right: it takes more than a thingy to kill Grog Strongjaw.

Vex takes the empty bottle from him and the bag from Scanlan, who barely reacts, and asks, “Better now, darling?”

“Yep, all good,” Grog replies. It’s not really true, and he doesn’t miss a look from Pike that says she’s going to keep an eye on him no matter what, but it feels kinda true, and that’s enough for now. “So what now? I mean, we’re done here, right?”

“I suggest we find a safe place to camp before we head out,” says Percy, looking around as though he expects another thingy to leap out of the shadows. Which wouldn’t surprise Grog overmuch, really. This place sucks.

They all agree, and after Vax suggests they set up camp where they stopped earlier, pretty close from here, most of them leave to do just that.

To Grog’s relief, nobody fusses over him more. He’s not used to people worrying about him outside of Pike and Wilhand. It weirds him out. Vax slaps his arm with a smile and walks away, Trinket padding after him; Keyleth climbs back to her feet and pats his shoulder awkwardly, though her smile is warm and genuine; Percy gives him a nod before following her, his breathing normal again.

And Vex tightens the bag’s drawstrings and puts it in his hands.

“Grog,” she says. “Um. Listen.”

Grog listens.

“I know you can take a hit better than anyone else. It takes a lot to knock you down, like… a lot. And I know today was, well, an anomaly. But I was thinking… You should keep the bag. You know, full time.”

“Okay,” says Grog, who’s waiting to see where she’s going with it before deciding if it’s worth getting angry about. He loathes being coddled. But Vex also essentially said he was a tough motherfucker, so that makes up for it. “Why?”

“Because you’re not just tough. You’re the fastest of all of us, so if anyone needs a potion or something else from the bag in the heat of battle, you can just run and give it to them, right?”

Oh. Yeah. That’s a pretty good reason. Good thing he didn’t get angry.

“As long as you don’t forget to take one yourself when you need it, okay?” Vex adds in a softer tone. “Anyone can need first aid at some point, dear. Even a barbarian built like a brick shithouse.”

“Right.”

She looks at him intently some more, as though there’s a question in there he’s supposed to answer. When it becomes obvious that he’s said all he wanted to say, she rises, winks at him, and leaves him with Pike and Scanlan.

Vex’s winks are something else. More often than not she uses them at other people like she fires her arrows, so being on the receiving end of a nice one for a change is a treat.

“What’s that on your leg?” Pike asks Grog as they all stand up.

Grog is about to reply ‘just some blood’, but then he remembers Scanlan��s shirt is still tied around his thigh and that’s why Scanlan’s holding his leather vest instead of wearing it.

“I forgot,” he says, “I did get first aid. Scanlan made a doohickey, look.”

Pike does look at the doohickey. Then at Scanlan. Then back at the doohickey, Grog, and then Scanlan again.

Scanlan stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“I mean,” he says just a little uncertainly, “I was tapped out of useful spells and I think that’s how you tie a tourniquet – but then again, you know, I’m a bard, if you asked me what rhymes with ‘tourniquet’ that’d be more my speed. Like, I might say ‘turning key’ but good luck fitting that in a song and it doesn’t really match the scans—”

Without warning Pike grabs him into a hug. An actual hug, so sudden Scanlan doesn’t even have time to say anything, and so tight he lets out a little breathless ooof. He goes an interesting shade of red. Although maybe that’s just because he just got crushed against chain mail.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, very quietly but so fiercely Grog has no trouble making out the words. “Just a minute more, and I wouldn’t have… He’d… Thank you.”

Well then. If Grog still had any doubt left that he really would have died down here without his best little buddies… He’s not afraid to die, as such, especially if it’s against something really badass or to protect someone he loves (which is not that many people). But he’s fucking glad he didn’t.

Scanlan looks at Pike (or rather the back of her head, mostly), looks at Grog, and, wonder of wonders, says nothing for once – just holds her back a little awkwardly, his vest dangling from his hand.

It doesn’t last long anyway. Pike lets go of him and steps back quickly, looking a little self-conscious, like she just only noticed he’s naked from the waist up. Chest hair or jewellery probably doesn’t count. And that’s funny, because she’s never like that around Grog, who rarely wears anything except his trousers, belt, and boots. Plus, now, the doohickey, which he manages to loosen but not quite untie; the knot is really tight and the congealed blood isn’t helping. So he shrugs it off for now and picks up both gnomes, setting one on each shoulder. Pike is a little heavier than Scanlan, because of the chain mail, but as usual it’s like carrying a couple of kittens.

There. Just as things should be.

“Hey, Scanlan,” he says, walking towards the others while Pike wipes her eyes and clings to his shoulder a little tighter than she usually does, “sorry your shirt got messed up.”

“It’s okay, buddy. It was for a good cause.”

“You know,” says Pike, “I think a tourniquet works better with a stick. I could teach you.”

“Well, not many sticks underground, but I suppose if needs be I can always use my—”

“Your what, Scanlan?”

“—flute! I was gonna say ‘my flute’! I am not risking the Cube just to make a dick joke, guys, come on.”

“Hey Pike, remember when Wilhand said babies come from birds and tadpoles? Turns out he was wrong.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. They actually come from people havin’ sex. Do you thinks he knows?”

“I… You know, I think you should definitely tell him next time we see him. Sounds important.”

“Pike? This Wilhand, he’s your… great-grandfather, correct?”

“Great-great-grandfather, why?”

“Oh, nothing. Hey Grog, be a pal and pass me my pack, will you, there’s a clean shirt in there. Also, tell me someone picked up my flute?”

Turns out Vax did.

Having friends, Grog reflects before they settle down around a campfire and take a flagon of ale from the bag, is indeed pretty great.

⁂

(uuughhh I'm still meh about the last sentence (it's been kicking my arse for the past two days at least) 😭 I'm waiting to see if/when my beta is available to look this over before I post it on AO3, but I will as soon as I can 💜)

EDIT oh!! I had fun with a 5e monster/NPC stat block builder and homebrewed a thingy :D Let me know if you think it's appropriate for a level 5-ish party! (ngl, I ripped the Deadly Leap feature from the bulette ^^')

What do you think? Total shit or could actually work?

#critical role #vox machina #the legend of vox machina #grog strongjaw #scanlan shorthalt #pike trickfoot #vex'ahlia #vax'ildan #keyleth #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo III #fanfiction #the big and his smalls #<3 #ask reply #my stuff

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 5 months ago

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birthday countdown 2024, day 4: coma fic snippet

the birthday countdown is switching fandoms today! (yes, shocking, but i do sometimes write about characters who aren’t anime clown pirates. 🤡) 911 friends, today i have for you a buck pov snippet that is probably not going to end up in the final draft of this fic because the story’s gonna work better with a limited pov, which i am calling the coma fic for misleading reasons the time being:

“So, uh. You guys have all known Tommy a long time, right?” “Oh, sure.” Chimney takes a large bite out of his sandwich and says, “He was at the 118 before I was, if only by a year or so.” “S-so, then. You’d know if…” Buck’s throat tries to close up on him. He takes a deep breath, presses his hands flat against the table to stop them trembling—why is this so hard?—and says, “If he was… uh. Into guys?” Chewing around the table slows, then stops. Eddie’s staring a hole in the side of Buck’s head. Hen and Chim share a look. Buck swallows thickly, his ears hot. Why are his ears hot? It’s a perfectly normal question!

(800 words below the cut)

“So, uh. You guys have all known Tommy a long time, right?”

“Oh, sure.” Chimney takes a large bite out of his sandwich and says, “He was at the 118 before I was, if only by a year or so.”

“S-so, then. You’d know if…” Buck’s throat tries to close up on him. He takes a deep breath, presses his hands flat against the table to stop them trembling—why is this so hard?—and says, “If he was… uh. Into guys?”

Chewing around the table slows, then stops. Eddie’s staring a hole in the side of Buck’s head. Hen and Chim share a look.

Buck swallows thickly, his ears hot. Why are his ears hot? It’s a perfectly normal question!

Bobby sets his sandwich down. “That’s an interesting question, Buck,” he says thoughtfully, setting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. “Though as it happens, it’s one I don’t think I have an answer for. You know, you can know a person a long time—not that I knew Tommy very long—without knowing too much about them. You remember how… withholding I was, when you first joined us?” Buck nods; he remembers all too well. “I saw Tommy as something of a kindred figure in that way, keeping a large portion of himself to himself.” He turns to look at Chim and Hen. “Did you have that impression, Hen? Chimney?”

Hen is busy on her phone.

Chimney nods. “When I first joined, yeah. Turned out they’d lost a couple guys that year, people Tommy had been close with. Guess he didn’t want to get to like another new guy just to lose him. Once I proved that I knew what I was doing—and saved his life in the process—he opened up to me a bit. With all the captains we ran through before you came along, he might’ve reverted to old ways.”

Bobby makes an understanding sound, nodding.

“As far as people Tommy’s into goes, I never met anyone Tommy was dating while he was at the 118. He told us more than once that he preferred staying single. I don’t know if he still feels that way,” Chimney says with a shrug, returning to his sandwich. “Tommy’s a pretty private guy. Friendly, but private.”

Buck sighs. This is not helpful.

“So, uh… why do you ask, Buckaroo?”

“Uh.” Unhelpful and opening a can of worms Buck doesn’t know if he even wants to crack open, not if Tommy isn’t—

“He is,” Hen says, still typing away on her phone.

“Huh?”

“Tommy? Yeah, he’s gay,” she says, eyebrows going up and a smile crossing her face as a new text alert chimes on her phone.

Heat flares up in Buck’s face. “Did—did you text him just now and ask?” God. If he’d wanted to die of embarrassment that badly, he would’ve just asked Tommy himself.

Hen sets her phone down to give Buck a look. “No, I already knew. I texted to ask him if it was okay to tell you. He’s out, but it’s not exactly common knowledge.” She gestures at the mildly surprised looks on both Bobby and Eddie’s faces. Picking up her sandwich, she adds, “And for the record, he was very okay with me telling you.”

“I—yeah?” Buck needs to control his face better, he really does, but. Very okay?

“Oh yeah,” Hen says with a warm smile. “‘Hey, Beck’s asking if you’re into guys, okay to disclose?’” she says, reading her text aloud. “Before I could correct the typo, he texted back, ‘Sure.’ I sent, ‘*Buck,’ and he replied, ‘Evan??’” Hen waggles her eyebrows at Buck. “With two question marks. And then: ‘Absolutely, please do.’”

“Absolutely?” Eddie says, visibly amused.

“Absolutely,” Buck breathes.

“Guess you got your answer, then,” Bobby says, smiling fondly at Buck. Buck nods, feeling a little sheepish. “Is there… maybe something you want to tell us, Buck?”

Buck licks his lips, nervous for—clearly—no reason. They all know now, basically… it’s just a matter of saying it. His phone buzzes, and he takes the opportunity to put that off.

It’s a text from Tommy.

Hey, when’s your shift over? Hen just texted me, and I think maybe we should talk?

Buck feels himself smiling, and knows—he knows—he’s not fooling anybody when he says, “Ah… let me get back to you on that, Cap?” But he wants to be sure. It feels real, it feels right, but he won’t know for sure until Tommy’s there in front of him.

Bobby nods, expression unchanged. “Whenever you’re ready, Buck.”

#birthday countdown 2024 #notfic #the coma fic #911 #bucktommy #no i still don’t think my character voices for 911 are quite right yes i’m invested in writing this fic regardless

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bigleoenergy · 7 months ago

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Obviously this isn’t the last chapter of my hero but even so I think the ending of this final battle was done very shallow anyways. Like happy for bakudeku people fr I’m happy they got their destiel moment but I sincerely feel like horikoshi said whatever to the actual story he was writing in favor of pleasing the izuku and bakugo fans which are the majority of the fandom. Because besides them literally every other character has just been side lined into an “okay? That’s it I guess??? “ ending. I’m so serious if you step outside of Bakugo and Izukus storyline not a single other character has had any proper wrap up for this war. Over half of these characters aren’t even acknowledged despite being set up for a more impactful story it’s crazy.

And I’m sorry but genuinely what is the point of anything right now if Touya, Himiko, and Tomura are dead. I literally don’t care if one of them did actually survive and we see that in the next chapter, we should see them alive now….getting help…being acknowledged. What was the point of emphasizing to your viewers how fucked and unfair hero society is and how so many people suffer and become villains because of never getting help if the three characters who represent the unfairness just die??? All of them??? Like okay… hope that their deaths impact the hero students so hopefully when they grow up they….feel more inclined to be sympathetic to future villains, instead of actually writing how current society should’ve acknowledged our marginalized characters and through enough help these people could be rehabilitated into a better society. Like the point of emphasizing this entire time how this new generation of hero’s, Izuku especially, are better than the hero’s before them and are going to right past wrongs should be shown in the characters actually doing that… not just hoping they will. Like because these characters are dead there can’t possibly be any justice brought. If they are all truly dead how can we see hero society face their mistakes and work to fix them because nobody else in this universe if going to care about the deaths of these villains besides Izuku, Ochako, and Shoto who knew them personally. It truly feels like he backed out of writing the harder story in favor of just pleasing the majority of fans there’s no other way to spin it.

Also….the way izuku didn’t even reach his goal like bro failed….and not poetically like you can spin it as “he’s just a teenager!!! He can’t be expected to actually succeed at everything!!!” We know. We’ve seen him fail plenty before. Showing us this in the final battle is unsatisfactory. “It’s realistic to show that you can’t save everyone! Not even the good guys can meet their goals it wouldn’t be realistic .” First of all this is a fantasy story. This is a fictional story written by someone to share a message to his audience. And he failed at showing the message he had built up since the start. Like there’s plenty of times you can show me how the good guys don’t win every battle and I love it but trying to say this at the price of your characters who represent abuse and mistreatment is bad writing and it’s lazy. You can not spin it any other way.

I’m just spur of the moment rambling so if anything I say is incoherent sorry I just genuinely expected so much better.

#mha spoilers #mha 424 #tomura shiragaki #himiko toga #touya todoroki #dabi #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #mind you I’ve never been a LOV stan like many are #but I’ve always recognized and appreciated the unique messages this story was mwking and it never resolved to anything #I’m just shocked truly

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iateyourparents · 1 year ago

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hii I love your work 🙈🙈 can you do one with colby where the reader is a medium and the place is like really active?

medium | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!medium!reader

summary: you’re a guest in sam and colby’s video.

warnings: use of y/n, the place they are exploring is totally made up by me, bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thank you so much for this idea, i hope you’ll like it <3

“What’s up guys! It’s Sam and Colby!” Colby started video “Today we will be exploring this house” he pointed camera at the big white house behind him.

“It’s Mallory’s house.” Sam added ”The place where Mallory watched her family being murdered and then died there herself because of starvation.” he explained “People says she and her family to this day are there. Also, there’s a rumor that Mallory is waiting for the killer to come back to take her revenge. But we’ll tell you about it later!” he clapped his hands.

“But we’re not alone here.” Colby said and waved at you so you stood between them „For the first time ever, my girlfriend y/n will be investigating with us!”

“And it’s even more exciting because she is a medium.” sam moved his eyebrows suggestively and you laughed quietly “Y/n how are you feeling about it?”

“Excited, that will be the first time ever I will actually try to use my ‚gift’ intentionally.” you smiled at camera “I guess it won’t be hard since I already can feel this house.”

“Oh what do you feel?” Colby asked curiously.

“There is certainly something. I can’t really say yet if it’s good or how it feels about us being here but it’s not threatening.” you explained “I think it’s curious what we will do.”

“Good to know.” Sam smiled at you and then smiled mischievously at the camera and then at Colby “I have some surprise for you Colby.” he stated “When I was doing research I found some rumor that I didn’t tell you about.”

“What’s going on?” Colby already could tell he probably won’t like this.

“So like I said, there’s this rumor that, like you know, Mallory is waiting for her family’s killer to come back to have her revenge, but there’s also this thing that apparently she’s targeting mans that are similar to the killer.” he explained “And guess what? You have brown hair, blue eyes and you’re tall and pale, just like Many!” he cheered and you laughed while Colby sighed with resignation.

“Great” he said ironically „Let’s go, we can’t keep Mallory waiting to hurt me.”

“Don’t worry, I will save you.” you joked and he smiled softly at you and kissed your cheek.

“I feel safer now.”

|||

After your guide left you alone in the house you started to feel stronger emotions.

“I’m not sure why but now I feel everything stronger. It’s like guide was calming them.” you explained to the camera.

“They already were familiar with guide so maybe he made Mallory feel safer and now, without him here, she keeps her guard up.” Sam offered and you agreed that it was possible.

„So y/n, what do you feel, can you see something?” Colby pointed camera at you again.

„Yeah, I feel that here are few people but I can only see one. It’s a little girl standing next to the staircase. She’s observing us but she’s nice one.” you assured them „ I think it’s Mallory’s sister, Naya?”

You could see the little girl nodding and you smiled softly at her.

„Yes, it’s her.” you said „I have no idea who is it but there’s one spirit that is the strongest and definitely isn’t the nicest. Not bad or threatening but also isn’t inviting.” you stated „I can feel strong emotions like sadness and nostalgy. I think they might be trapped here.”

„That’s interesting.” Sam looked impressed „So only Naya is with us in the room?”

„No, there’s at least two more spirits but only Naya let me see her.”

„Okay, so I think we can start with a spirit box.” Colby offered.

|||

You were going from room to room and now you had only two more rooms left.

Mallory’s bedroom and playroom where Mallory was left by a murderer to die from starvation.

You were about to come into her bedroom when you started feeling weird.

„I feel uncomfortable.” you said and boys said they also felt like that „I don’t think she likes us very much.”

„So Mallory is in her room?” Colby asked and finally you all went into the said room.

„Yeah, I think she was here the whole time because I felt her before but only now I feel her presence so much.” you said.

„Okay, let’s start.” Sam pointed camera at himself and started talking „Hey Mallory, we’re sorry if you don’t like us but we’re coming in peace. We only want to share your story with the world. We don’t want to mess with you or disrespect you.”

You all heard knocks.

„Thank you for listening to us.” Colby said „We will use this box, it’s called spirit box and you can talk to it and it will communicate it to us.”

„I’m not sure what’s going on but I just started to feel really weird.” you stated and Sam pointed the camera at you „I feel uneasy, like something is about to happen. I think she doesn’t like the spirit box.”

„Oh, we are sorry Mallory, but we promise it won’t do anything to you, it only will help us to communicate with you.” Sam explained.

Colby turned on the spirit box and it immediately said „hurt”.

„Killer hurt you?” Sam asked and box said yes after a moment.

„Do you want a revenge on Many?” Sam asked and immediately after he said killer’s name you all could hear thud, like someone punched the wall.

Boys continued to ask questions but you keep quietly trying to breathe evenly. The feeling of uneasiness only got stronger and you felt as you were choked. Suddenly it stopped but the uncomfortable feeling stayed.

Your intuition was alarming you and you looked ay Colby. You could feel something you couldn’t name.

Your head started to pound and you felt need to sit down. You sat down on the floor and boys looked at you with concern.

„What happened?” Colby stood next you „You okay?”

„Yeah, I just felt like I need to sit down or I will fall.” you explained „My head hurts.”

„Do you want us to do a break? We can go outside for a moment.” Colby offered and wanted to help you up but you only waved him off.

„No, I’m okay. It’s getting better. We can continue but I need to sit for a moment, I don’t trust my legs right now.” you laughed and boys nodded but you could see they were keeping careful eye on you. They went back to asking questions.

You actually started to feel better but you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling that something was about to happen.

„Guys.” you said alarmed after a moment when you felt something „We should go to the other room. She doesn’t want us here.” just as you said it, the spirit box said „yes” and „get out”.

„Alright, lets go to the playroom.”

You changed rooms and started investigating. You still felt uncomfortable and your headache was coming back even harder but you said nothing not wanting to interrupt their conversation with Naya.

Suddenly Colby hissed „Fuck, something scratched me!” he explained and lifted his shirt showing two red lines running down his stomach.

You looked at him concerned but before you could ask if he’s okay your vision started to get blurry and you lost balance and if Colby wasn’t next you you would fall.

„Hey, hey, you with us?” you could hear concern in Sam’s voice while Colby carefully sat with you on the floor.

„Yeah, I just felt this uneasiness and headache when suddenly my vision became blurry and I couldn’t keep my balance.” you explained, blinking to make your vision clearer.

Then you felt something new and somehow you knew what that meant.

„Something is trying to target Colby.” you said and boys looked surprised „I think it’s Mallory. Sam, you said she’s targeting people having similarities with the killer?”

„Yes.” Sam confirmed while looking with concern at Colby.

„I’m not sure how but I think I already knew she was targeting him and I unconsciously was trying to shield him somehow but when she scratched him it also affected me.”

„Shield me?” Colby asked with confusion.

„I can’t explain this but when I see or feel a spirit I have some control over him. It’s like authority thing. It knows I know they are there so they aren’t sure about me. She must feel I care about you and it was harder for her to attack you but she tried.” you said and boys looked impressed.

„Amanda said something similar last time.” Sam said „Spirits doesn’t like mediums because they are afraid of their abilities. It must affect them somehow.”

„Yeah” you nodded.

„Are you feeling okay now? Do you want to stop, take a break?” Colby looked at you concerned but you denied.

„I’ll be okay but we should work faster and get out of here. Mallory doesn’t like us and I think she’s trying to hurt you.” you said, last part mainly to Colby who just nodded but didn’t stood up from where he was holding you behind you.

Sam understood what Colby wanted to do and also sat on the floor.

„We will continue investigating sitting in case y/n feel worse.” Sam informed viewers and you felt grateful.

„Mallory, what y/n said was true?” Colby asked „Do you want to hurt me but she’s stopping you?” you could hear a thud in answer. It was loud and very close to you three. „Is it because I remind you of Many?” again thud, this time even louder.

„We are sorry that Colby reminds you ab…” something interrupted Sam’s. And by something you meant a weird scratching sound that was dangerously close to Colby’s back.

„What the hell?” Colby looked at the floor behind him but there was nothing, then he suddenly yelped and his head leaned back, then he said „Something just…like pulled me by hair.”

„What the hell?” you narrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room „Mallory is angry.”

„Should we go?” Sam looked at you but before you could say anything doors to the playroom closed themselves „What the fuck.”

„I think she doesn’t want us to leave just yet.” Colby furrowed his brows and you heard knocks.

„Okay, Mallory were you the one who pulled Colby’s hair?” you asked after Sam turned on the spirit box. It immediately confirmed.

You wanted to say something more but you started to feel nauseous and your headache was back. You felt like you couldn’t move or even open your mouth, your vision became blurry and you couldn’t hear anything, just ringing.

And when you were in this state Mallory again attacked Colby, this time making bigger three scratches on his arm.

„Hey, what’s with y/n?” Sam asked concerned after they inspected Colby’s wound. Colby looked at you and immediately tried to shake you off this trance. He succeeded but only after few seconds.

„We should get out” you said panicked. You felt very off and you could feel yourself shaking „I can’t explain it but if we stay here someone’s gonna get hurt badly.” you stated and felt like someone placed their hand on your neck. You reached there and touch was gone but Sam gasped.

„Your neck, it has handprint.” he showed it to the camera and Colby immediately got up and helped you. You started taking your things when there was next thud.

„Mallory and everyone else, you can’t follow us out of the house and you can’t hurt us. You are not allowed to.” Colby said sternly and you all walked out of the house and when Sam reached to close the door after you, they closed themselves.

„Holy shit, I’m not sure if we ever got so much evidence.” Sam sighed and looked at the camera that was still recording „I think it was caught on camera how they closed.”

He stopped recording and you get into the car where boys decided to record outro and then Colby drove to your hotel.

„Are you sure you okay?” Colby asked for the hundred time since you got to your room.

„Yes, Colbs, I’m good.” you kissed his cheek.

„Promise me you will never again try to shield me. Not if it’s gonna affect you like that.” he asked „It pained me to even look at how you looked there, it was like you were about to leave your body. Don’t scare me like that ever again please.” he kissed your forehead and hugged you tighter.

You rolled your eyes, like you could ever let something happen to him if you could stop that.

„Can’t promise you that Colby, I love you too much to let something get to you.” you kissed him.

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby #sam and colby #snc #katrina stuart #sam golbach

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bordysbae · 2 years ago

Note

Hi queen!! Could you write something for Frank where the reader is older and she gets made fun of for being a cougar? Thank you.

“cougs”

frank nazar x f!reader

usually you didn’t go for guys younger than you. quite the opposite actually. but when you met frank nazar you knew you were in deep shit. “he’s literally younger than you y/n!” your friend exclaims, shocked that you’re going after a younger guy.

“it’s college, who cares anymore! he’s hot!” your other friend chimes in.

“guys stop it, i’ve barely even spoken to the guy! i met him at a party, you guys need to chill,” you chuckle, scrolling through your texts with the freshman.

“yeah well does every guy you meet ask for your number?” the ginger haired one asks, raising an eyebrow at you. you bashfully smile, knowing that’s she’s right.

“yeah y/n, that’s what we thought,” the brunette one says, making you throw a pillow at her. “oh shut it!” you exclaim, meanwhile your cheeks become coated in a rosy pink.

—

all of that was a little over a month ago. now you’ve been dating frank for nearly three weeks, and you’ve never met his teammates. you already know they’re gonna make comments about how you’re older than him, since frank had told you that they chirp him about it in the locker room.

“frank, i’m nervous,” you admit, as he parks the car outside of the restaurant. he immediately turns his head towards you and a pitiful pout appears on his lips.

“don’t be babe, i promise it’s gonna be okay. they won’t be too harsh on you, and if they are i’ll say something okay?” he reassures, and you nod your head. as you both walk into the small restaurant in the depths of ann arbor, you spot the table full of boys and a couple girls here and there.

“hey nazar!” one of the boys exclaims, dapping frank up as you both walk past the long row of people, who aren’t sat against the cushioned booth. then you guys reach the empty chairs saved for you both.

“so, you must be the famous y/n! i’m nolan, team captain,” he smirks, proud of the ‘captain’ title.

“yes, that’s me!” you sweetly smile, afraid of the jokes you’ll be never hear the end of. “so you’re… a junior right?” another boy next to nolan chimes in with a small chuckle, making your cheeks run hot.

“oh, i’m actually a sophmore,” you correct him, aware that he’s very much making a little joke about you. he smiles at your response, before introducing himself as ethan.

“we’ve heard a lot about you! i’m shocked i’ve never seen you before, especially since we’re the same age, y’know?” another boy chimes in, making your heart rate immediately speed up. frank grabs your hand under the table, squeezing it tight in his as a way of reassurance.

“oh, yeah that’s strange,” you say, stuttering a little on your words out of both embarrassment and nerves. for a moment the jokes die down, but once they start up again you immediately feel upset and nervous again.

clearly this is obvious to frank, because suddenly he snaps from quiet to angry, “okay guys that’s enough. are you done with the stupid comments you’re making? it’s just a one year age difference, you guys need to cut it out! can’t you see you’re making both of us uncomfortable?” he exclaims, startling everyone and making them immediately how quiet and listen to him.

“look we’re sorry man, and sorry to you too y/n. it’s all jokes i promise. and i promise we’re done with the chirps, right guys?” the boy you know to be nolan says, looking at all the boys who were making comments. they all nod their heads and apologize to you, making you feel better. the rest of dinner is sweeter, and you’ve basically forgotten about the comments from earlier due to all the jokes being cracked, and funny stories being told. as you and frank are leaving the restaurant, nolan comes up to you to say goodbye.

“y/n! it was nice meeting you, and i’m sorry about earlier,” nolan says, pulling you into a side hug.

“hey it’s alright, i know it was all a joke, just a little bit sensitive i guess,” you shrug, making nolan smile at your forgiveness.

“cya around, cougs,” nolan chuckles, making you roll your eyes jokingly, hitting nolan’s arm.

“yeah yeah whatever, hope you get a girlfriend soon enough! it must suck being alone all the time,” you joke back, making everyone around you laugh.

“oh i like her, you picked well nazar!” a boy chimes in as he begins walking to his car, making frank chuckle before parting ways with the group. he then wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer into his side.

“i’m sorry about them, but it wasn’t too bad was it?” he asks.

“no, it wasn’t so bad after all,” you smile up at him.

“i’m glad you had a good time. thanks for coming with me, cougar,” frank smirks, making you roll your eyes and playfully hit his chest.

#frank nazar #frank nazar fluff #frank nazar blurb #frank nazar imagine #frank nazar x reader #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #umich hockey #michigan hockey

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mazzystar24 · 7 months ago

Note

hi its birthmark anon! weird lore from me i guess i dont mean to trauma dump because my dad is fine lmfao but i HATED that scene because of the “your dad is still alive” line. my dad had heart issues when i was a kid to the point he needed open heart surgery and i remember so clearly my aunt saying something similar to my mom in front of us when he was hospitalized. my mom said she couldnt make thanksgiving dinner because my dad was in the hospital and she had to take care of me and my 3 siblings who were all pretty young kids (i was 11 i think and my younger brother was 9. i remember thinking my dad was gonna die) and my aunt was like “at least you have a family”. we didnt see her for like 5 years after that lmfao

also the “you guys need your own hospital wing” line also frustrated me because i had my own health problems as a kid (im alright now) and people ALWAYS made those sorts of comments to me. i didnt even register the daddy shit until later and that only made the scene worse because while it felt like buck was trying to lighten the mood and make it something they have in common but tommy dismissed it AGAIN. like its not even about sexual jokes to me its about him being an asshole in every scene he’s in 😭

anyway thanks for the birthmark clownery i doubt kim will return but we had fun 🫶 this whole discourse is dumb because the scene just sucked. if they wanted me to believe tommy gave a single fuck they shouldve had him come to the hospital abd they should also address the role he played in the gerrard shit for hen and chimney because they HAVENT and it drives me NUTS

anyway love you bye

Hi birthmark anon!!

Dw Im always down for a good trauma dump like one of my friends and I legit never spoke to eachother before despite being in the same class for a year but only became friends because a cancelled class led to us trauma dumping to eachother for our first proper conversation for like 2 hrs

Omg can’t believe your aunt said that that’s actually so iffy, but yess exactly the “your dad is still alive” line was just so so bad and I hated it sm like idk if you saw my replies on my other post or not cos I put it in much more in depth way there but like I too am a traumatised girlie and if someone said that shit about my bio dad I would literally lose it cos it’s one of those things that get said so much to traumatised people and it’s honestly a big no from me

Like sure SOME traumatised people MAY regret not fixing it but also it might not be fixable and you don’t know the situation and also maybe they won’t either way that’s their prerogative

and sometimes what’s right for them at the time isn’t what’s right for them long term and all these things are fine

Like me personally if my dad dropped dead right now I would genuinely celebrate and feel not a single ounce of regret and that’s fine and id deck anyone who said it’s not

Like if Tommy has his own trauma and feelings about his dad and their relationship then that’s fine but this sort of imposed rhetoric on another traumatised person is just a no from me

The hospital wing line is another thing that I didn’t see mentioned but bucks face DID flip but that’s a whole other debate yeah

See that’s the thing like I know I have Tommy loving followers but I personally dislike him cos they haven’t gave him (imo) substance or like enough other than sardonic comments and shit

Rip our fun with the Kim and buck parallels you’ll always be famous🫡

But yeah like even if people liked Tommy and bucktommy I feel like they can blame the writing or execution or context but like overall not liking that scene it’s not just about hating Tommy or bucktommy imo

YES THEY COULDVE PLAYED IT SO DIFFERENTLY IF THEY WANTED TO DEVELOP TOMMY AND BUCKTOMMY AND IT DEEPLY CONFUSES ME WHY THEY HAVENT IF THEYRE CARRYING IT INTO S8

Anyways also love ya byee🫶🫶🫶🫶

#911 #evan buckley #911 abc #911 fox #911onfox #evan buck buckley #anti bucktommy #anti tommy kinard #fandom discourse #911 discourse

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therosebunpost · 1 year ago

Text

Monster Mash

Werewolf! Steve Harrington x Fem! Blind! Reader

CW: Some small sexual themes (MDI)

For @lesservillain ‘s Strange and Spooky Stories prompts! This finally gave me a chance to write my Werewolf! Steve idea, so thank you so much!

—————

You came to Hawkins for one reason, and one reason alone. You heard about the spooky shit that’s been happening, and as one amateur Paranormal Investigator, you wanted to see what all the hype was about. People didn’t like that idea. Your parents nearly passed out when you told them. “I’ll have Bernard with me!” You’d say, kneeling down and hugging the large Goldie, who barked proudly. Licking your face and tapping his feet against the ground.

Bernard was your trusty partner in crime. Trained from a young puppy, you two had a bond that was unshaken. He was more than just your eyes, he was for all purposes, your best friend. “He’s excited too, aren’t you? You ready to hunt some ghosts? Maybe get into a run-in with some monsters?” You’d gush, your trusty pup woofing in excitement.

Obviously, you were going to be careful. Sure, you joked about battling monsters, but like hell would you actually put yourself or Bernard in danger. It sucked that people didn’t expect that from you, but that’s how it was when you were blind.

You loved proving them wrong, though.

Hawkins was a nice enough town. It was small, from what your research told you. Even smaller than it used to be, after the quakes.

Bernard stayed by your side, dutifully ignoring the coos and pets of strangers as he led you away from the bus station. Guess Hawkins didn’t have a large Blind population, as you had to gently tell people not to distract your faithful companion. It was almost second nature to you, even if it got irritating.

At some point, you managed to stumble into a building for some salvation from the heat. Taking in the vague shapes and colors, it was some kind of store.

“Welcome to Family Video, if you need anything-“

“Oh! You have such a cute dog, oh my god-“

Two voices rung out from in front of you. One masculine and one feminine. You see two human shaped blobs, and one of them was already coming around the counter at record speed.

“Thank you!” You stop her, tucking Bernard behind your legs and keeping your cane in front of you. “He’s working now, though, so please don’t pet him-“

The woman stops, a sharp breath leaving her. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. I won’t. He’s really pretty, sorry about that-“

“It’s alright, thank you.” You relax, eased up by the sincerity in her tone. “Could you help me, actually? Do you know where the local Inn is? I’m staying for a few days and the sun is taking a toll on me. I really don’t want to wander around in it.” You giggle and the woman chuckles in sympathy.

“Yeah! Here, let me find a map. We have some water, if you’re thirsty?” You follow after her retreating form, now stationed in front of the solid mass that you assumed was a counter. The other blob, this one taller and wider in the shoulders, offered a wave before quickly thinking better of it. “Hi! Hey, uh, I’m Steve.”

Steve had a really nice voice. Smooth, and just a touch of an accent you can’t quite place. “Hi Steve.” You return, hoping you were smiling at him and not at the wall. That, and you hoped the heat in your cheeks would die down. You were a sucker for nice voices.

“So, the Inn? What brings you to Hawkins?”

“Well, I’m actually here on a mission!” You tease, giggling and leaning on the counter. “Bernard and I are going monster hunting!” Bernard woofs, but he wasn’t right next to you like you were expecting. Instead he was a little off to the side, and it’s then that you hear the tell tale sounds of sniffing.

“Oh, uh, hey big guy-“

“Bernard!” You rush around the counter without thinking, gently leading Bernard away from the confused man. “I’m so sorry, usually he’s really good at staying by my side.” Even in the midst of a distraction, but maybe Bernard was a sucker for a nice voice too. Plus, he could actually see what the man looked like.

“Oh, it’s fine, I just had some food so maybe he just smelled it on me.” He waves off the apologies, chuckling. Bernard woofs again and Steve’s laugh becomes a little wheezy.

“Dingus! Where’s the map??”

“I don't know Robin! Here, let me check, you just grab the water.”

Then, without so much as a goodbye, he was gone.

The woman, Robin, takes his place. “Here you go! I found a bowl, in case you’re both thirsty? Did I hear right, that his name is Bernard?” She chattered away, pressing the cold bottle into your hands along with a paper bowl.

“Thank you, and Mmhmm! Hey, you can pet him for a moment, if you want.” It wasn’t something you usually did, but she seemed sweet and was respectful of your No. Robin let’s out a small squeal of excitement before you hear her baby talking to the wiggling goldie. “Oh, you're so cute, oh my god. Such a good boy, working so hard, yeah??”

Bernard woofs, whining happily and Robin's giggles were just too infectious not to join in on. "Here, do you mind helping me with the water?" You ask, kneeling beside her and offering the bottle.

After the bowl was filled and Bernard was eagerly lapping at it, you take a grateful sip yourself.

"So, Monster Hunting?" Robin prompts after a moment, and you nod.

"Yeah, I heard a lot of stuff happened here. I was due for a vacation and I figured it'd be fun to look into it!" You explain, standing again. Robin snorts, and she's a blur as she shakes her head. "That's one way to spend a vacation."

"Fuck, I think I left it in my car." Steve’s footsteps come back out of the room.

"I can cover out here if you guys wanna go grab it." Robin offers, and you debate the offer. Follow a stranger to his car for a map to your Inn. Not that the map would do much, but it would at least give you something.

"Sure, come on Bern." You direct him with your leash and he falls back into Work Mode with ease. That, or he was eager to follow Steve out of the building. His lead tugged with his urgency.

"Here, uh, I think it's in the glove compartment?" Steve mutters, and you wait as he rustles around in the car. Though, suddenly he swears and there's a thump inside the car. "Whoa there bud-" He ducks out and you realize that Bernard had been inching closer.

"Bernard! Bad Dog!" You guide him away from Steve with a horrified gasp. "I am so, so sorry, he's never done that to someone before-" Bernard was a very friendly dog, but you trained him out of the sniffing thing early on. At least you thought you had.

"Its uh, it's fine! Dogs do that to me. He's just sayin' hello, yeah?" Bernard whines with apology and you try not to wilt at the sound. You rarely had to scold him, but it seems the new environment was a lot. "Still, I am so sorry."

Steve hands you the map and he tries to guide you to the Inn, but the mess of lines and colors was proving difficult.

"Its okay, I can ask for directions along the way." You offer, handing him the map. You've already taken enough of his time and you weren't excited for the next time Bernard decided to get friendly again.

"Are you sure? I mean, I could uh..drive you? It's not that far from the store and you aren't wrong about the heat."

You hesitate. You did need to check in soon and Bernard seemed to like him a lot. If there was anyone's opinion you trusted the most, it was your sweet puppy.

"Sure, yeah, thank you. I hope there's a way I can pay you back?" You asked, hearing the click of the door. You reached out a hand instinctively and he filled that space. The warm skin of his palm was soothing against yours and damn, his hands were big-

You slip into the car, placing your tingling hand in your lap in an effort to ignore it. The back door opened with a click and Bernard jumped into the backseat with a pleased bark. The sounds of him sniffing around were instant.

"You know," you admit with a giggle, "he's a friendly dog but he hasn't warmed up this quickly to someone before."

Steve let out that wheeze laugh again, hand tapping on the wheel. "He's a sweet dog, cares a lot about you." You hum in agreement, leaning your head back against the headrest and letting yourself rest for a moment.

"So…you said you were…monster hunting?"

“Yeah! I just think it’s really interesting. Really, it’s less hunting and just..seeing that they’re real, Y’know?”

“But isn’t that…dangerous?”

“I mean, sure, but I got Bern and…can I be a little honest?” You rub your palms along the fabric of your bottoms. “I don’t really expect to find anything. Part of this was just an excuse to get…away for a while. Work’s been…stressful lately and I dunno, I just wanted to do something different for a while.”

“Can I be honest?” Steve asks, and you nod. “Hawkins is kinda a weird place to run away to. Most people are hoping to get out.” You giggle, and Steve joins you.

“Do you? Want to leave?”

“…Not really? I mean, sure, I don’t want to be here everyday but…it’s my home.”

“So, you wanna stay but most people wanna leave?”

“It’s stupid, I know.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not stupid. It’s nice. Sounds like you really like it here.”

Steve hums and you want to ask more, but soon the car comes to a stop. You slip out, running your hands along the glossy interior, and locate the handle and let out your rambunctious pup. He jumps out, pressing his body against your leg with a happy bark. You pet the top of his head, grounding yourself in the familiar softness of his fur.

“Here we go! Hey, maybe.. I’ll see you around? Sometimes? Wait, shit, I mean-“

You giggle, shaking your head and turning towards the smooth voice. “I’ll see you around, Steve.” With a smile, you settle your backpack onto your shoulders, grab your cane and Bernard’s leash. “Thanks again, is there anything I can do? I have some cash?”

“Oh- No, hey, it’s fine, honestly this was a nice break for me. Getting to sit down and uh, drive you and this guy around was a highlight. Trust me.” Bernard barks and his tail wags against your leg before leaving your side and woofing even louder. The golden blob suddenly elongates, meshing with Steve and you have to let out another gasp. “Bernard, oh my god-“

But Steve was laughing, and damn, wasn’t that a nice sound? “Yeah, I liked meeting you too, Buddy.” He giggles and it’s not long before he ushers him back over to you. “Stay with your girl though, okay? Gotta protect her from monsters.” He chuckles, and your cheeks heat up again. “But seriously, stay safe, okay?”

With one final goodbye, you walk into the lobby with a sense of relief and maybe a small bit of longing. “Bern, what the fuck?” You mumble, giggling under your breath as you pet him again. “Was he really that handsome?” You tease and Bernard just lets out one of his happy whines, nudging your hand and licking your fingers. “I’d call you a smitten kitten, but I think you’d be offended.” He lets out an indignant woof and you laugh as you head up to the front desk.

Hawkins was nice, for the most part. The people were friendly and helped you get around if you got lost. Bernard was definitely popular, with many people eagerly greeting the two of you as you walked around. Beyond that, things unfortunately weren’t as action packed as you hoped. After all, you couldn’t just waltz up to the nearest resident and interview them about all the things they’ve seen. Not that many were that forthcoming in the first place.

So, you resorted to the library. The place didn’t have a lot of braille in the first place, figures, so the papers certainly didn’t. So you had to blow up the text to nearly three times its size, and even then you had to call the librarian over to tell you any words that weren’t clicking. At some point she ended up sitting with you and reading over the entire article, along with adding her own tidbits.

“Oh, that Munson boy. You know, when he was acquitted, I was relieved. He was always a sweet kid, even if he got a little too into his ‘metal music’ that I had to sush him.” She giggles and you tap the mugshot with your finger with interest. “You said he got hurt? From the quakes?”

“That or an animal got him, dear. Poor boy, he was in the hospital for months. The picket line outside the hospital certainly didn’t help either. His uncle had to be let back in through the back door, I heard. Or smuggled in when visiting hours were over.”

“Holy shit- Oh, wait, I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re absolutely right. Holy shit indeed, my dear.”

Looking back at the formless blob on the page, wonder if that’s all this was. Not a monster as in the bogey man, but the worse. A tangible monster, going around and murdering high schoolers and pinning the blame on some guy who sounded like the town was after him.

“You know dear,” The librarian mentions softly, “things haven’t really gotten better after the quakes, why, there’s been some sightings. That’s what you’re after, aren’t you?”

You perk up at this. “Sightings? Wait, like, monster sightings?”

“Mmhmm, but I’d be careful if I were you, pumpkin. This thing…well, it’s not one to be trifled with.”

It was one time, during one of these little study sessions, that a familiar voice rang out in the quiet library.

“Fifteen library books, Dustin? Fifteen late library books?”

“Are you really going to scold me for learning? For following where ever my journey of curiosity leads? My thirst for knowledge-“

“Henderson, Herrington, what a surprise! What brings you two here, not the fifty dollar fine, I hope?”

“Fifty Dollars? Oh, you little shit, I’m going to-“

You weren’t fast enough to catch Bernard’s leash. The Goldie barked, and you scrambled after the blonde mass of fur as he came barreling over to Steve and another person, a boy you guess given his voice.

“Bernard!”

“Fuck!”

The books come crashing down, heavy thumps pounding the ground. Steve’s increasingly familiar blob joined them, covered by a wiggling, excited Bernard.

“Steve! Dude, you dropped them-“ The boy cries, and Steve just groans.

Mortified, you firmly grip at Bernard’s lead. “Are you okay? Steve, I am so sorry-“ You reach out for him, gripping his hand and tugging the dazed man to his feet. “Fuck- Yeah, yeah, just startled, hey buddy-“

“Since when were you a dog magnet, oh, hi!” The boy, now placing the stack of books on the counter, greeted you with barely contained amusement. “Is that your dog? I didn’t know they let pets in here, that’s so cool-“

“Oh, no, he’s a service dog.” You were quick to interject, feeling for Bernard’s leash to make sure it was firmly in your hand. “He’s usually very well behaved, I’m so sorry. Are your books okay?” You reach out, wincing as you felt dents in the spines. “Here, let me just pay the fine, you said fifty?”

That caught Steve’s attention, the man quickly coming to your side. “No, no, you do not have to do that-“

“I mean, the books are pretty dented, Steve-“

“Dustin, I swear to god-“

“It’s fine!” You interject, pulling out your card and handing it over to the librarian. God, you were glad you couldn’t see her expression right now. “Fifty, then?” You press and the librarian finally lets out a laugh. “Yes. Usually I’d charge for the dents, but I’m fairly certain that was Mr. Henderson’s doing.”

“Wait, hey, I-“ There was a thump and Dustin let out an annoyed grunt. You pay the fine, silently mourning what could have been. Maybe a nice dinner at that Enzo’s place, or that cute top you felt at the store, or put into another training course for Bernard because apparently he needed a refresher.

With the freshly used card back in your bag, you turn towards the two with a heavy sigh. “God, I’m so sorry Steve, I swear Bernard isn’t like this-“ His warm hand lays heavy on your shoulder, and he squeezes gently. “It’s fine. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” He chuckles and you relax just a bit. Still mortified, but at least you made amends.

“You seriously didn’t need to pay his fine though, that’s his own doing-“

The exasperation makes you giggle. “Trying to teach your brother financial responsibility?” You guess and Dustin lets out a laugh loud enough to be shushed.

“Might I remind you three that this is a library, not a social circle?”

With renewed embarrassment, you run a hand over your face. “I’m so sorry Silvia. I’m done for today. I think I’ll just grab my cane and head out.”

“Here, do you..want some help?” Steve offers, and even though you could get back to your seat on your own, you decide to nod. Offering a hand, you tell him the section you were in and let him lead you back over there.

“He’s not my uh…brother, for the record.” Steve explains as the two of you walk. He smells nice up close, like the woods and a hint of hair spray. “Could have fooled me.” You tease and he chuckles. “He’s lucky he’s not, I’d be more annoyed about that fine if I was.”

“Fifteen late books is a bit excessive.”

“Exactly! Plus, those dents were not from the ground, they weren’t your fault I promise.”

You bite your lip and shake your head, hand reaching out for where you left your cane. “I didn’t…pay it for him. I uh…did it for you.” Was the AC broken all of a sudden or were you just perpetually warm around Steve and his nice voice and warm hands, and pretty laugh?

He clears his throat and let’s out a little laugh himself. “For…me?”

“I mean, I think my dog has basically fallen in love with you, so I think it’s only fair.” You admit, realizing he hasn’t let go of your hand even when you had your cane. You kind of didn’t want him to, either. “Seriously, he does that to no one. Not even me, so I mean, I think fifty dollars is a fair enough apology. Fifty dollars and a firm promise that he’s going back into training as soon as I get back home.”

Bernard whines at that and you roll your eyes. “I know, I’m breaking the biggest code about revealing your crush, but you literally ran over the man-“ You gently scold him and Steve giggles.

“I'm flattered, but it’s fine. Though…do you think you might want to go out sometime? Bernard’s handsome, but I’d like to just be friends.” He teases and you flush under the boldness.

“You sure? He has to come with me everywhere, I’d hate to make him a third wheel.” You joke and Bernard surprises you with his enthusiastic bark. Nudging your legs and inadvertently pressing you closer to the warm man next to you. “Seems like he doesn’t mind..” Steve’s low answer tickles your ears and you fold so quickly, it’s almost embarrassing.

“…Yeah, I’d like to hang out.” You admit and Steve hums, gently patting the small of your back with a hand as he leads you out of the library. “How about Enzo’s? I can pick you up tomorrow night?”

“Sure.”

—-

The date was going really well. Steve was sweet, attentive, but also mindful of your space and autonomy, which was the bare minimum but damn did some people not reach that. He was funny too, and you really liked making him laugh. Honestly, you loved listening to him talk, even if his topics tended to connect in ways you weren’t expecting, sometimes. You learn a few things about him. How he like sports, how he’s basically become the babysitter for Dustin and his group of friends, how he’s lived here his whole life.

“Wait, so were you here…?”

“During the uh..quakes? Yeah. It kinda divided the town, literally. Crazy.” He admits, tapping a spoon against his plate. “Still looking for monsters?” He asks and you chuckle.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen any. Just a bunch of newspapers and stuff. You guys have been through a lot.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve groans and you let the conversation shift to something else. You really liked Steve, and you figured you could ask him for more information later, if he wanted.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t tell you much during your hang outs after that. Just bits and pieces. The fire at Starcourt, the missing kid, the Lab getting exposed for government corruption. “Things have gotten better now though.” He insists before distracting you with a warm kiss on the temple, or the cheek, or even the mouth.

Yes, you were at that stage now. Honestly, it was easy kissing Steve in between conversations over diner milkshakes or watching a movie on his couch. It was easy to let your little mission go when his lips felt so good on your neck, sharp teeth gently scraping the flesh there to make you gasp.

After all, Steve was far more interesting. He basically lived alone, his parents often away on business. He loved dogs, or rather dogs loved him, which is apparently a new thing. He was dependable, loyal, and sweet. He got excited when you came around, often getting close to you and always keeping a hand on you at all times. He loved his friends, and thrived in social settings. He used to be on the swim team, but often just lets you use his pool whenever you want to swim. He just sort of sits by the edge, almost guarding over you like Bernard used to do as a puppy.

He had a small temper, but was good at controlling it. He was cheesy, and romantic, and maybe just a bit clingy which you honestly didn’t mind.

It was still so early in whatever this was, but it didn’t feel that way with Steve. It was like he just meshed into your life overnight. You didn’t want to think about what would happen when you traveled back home, so you just decided not to for now. After all, everybody deserved a summer fling if they wanted one, right?

So, yeah, Steve was someone to you now. His kisses were becoming familiar, his hands finding a home on your hips. You hadn’t gone that far yet, other than letting him feel along your breasts which pulled the hottest groan out of him. You would have let him take you right then and there on his couch after that, but the phone rang and Bernard whined for dinner. It ended up being a cuddle and make fun of B-horror movies night, which was just as nice.

He was protective too, and maybe it’d be overbearing if it wasn’t him. He keeps you close in new places, often leading you and Bernard around if you let him. Bernard follows him around all the time, barking and whining, and letting out all manner of sounds. Steve responded with interest, carrying the one sided conversation with ease. It was adorable, he was adorable.

——

You got set back onto your mission about a month into your stay at Hawkins. One night, you were awoken by a screech outside your Inn window. You were alone, except for Bernard who was sulking the whole day without Steve.

Steve had canceled your date earlier. His apology was so strained, and quick that you couldn’t even answer him before he hang up.

“I’m sorry Honey, came down with something. I’ll call you tomorrow though, okay? Stay safe.”

It sucked, but at least you were going to talk to him later. Plus, it meant you could research at the library and make some progress on learning about the horrors of Hawkins.

A different noise comes, a howling one. There was something off about it, like a mimic of a howl instead of a real one. Bernard doesn’t care though. He lifts his head, howling along with it and you’re quick to sush him. You were not looking forward to getting kicked out of the only Inn in Hawkins.

Bernard whines and you sigh. “Do you really need to pee right now?” He whines again and you slowly slip out of bed. You pull on some better clothes, gather Bernard’s leash and your cane, before leading him out of the tiny complex.

It’s a chilly evening in Hawkins. The end of summer is whispering on the horizon. You were going to have to go home soon. Away from Steve, away from the mysteries that you hadn’t solved.

There's rustling in the trees ahead of you. A heavy crunch of branches and a sudden screech that has you pulling Bernard close to your body. The forest was the only place you could bring him to pee, the receptionist having made that very clear when he saw your dog.

“Someone let their pet shit in the hallway, ma’m.” He explained and you sighed and went with it.

Bernard whines, and tugs at the leash, but it’s not away from the scary sounds. No, he wants to go towards them. “Bern, no. Look, I know we joked about monster hunting, but-“ He whines again and keeps tugging at the leash. There’s another whine out in the forest, and it’s painful. Like the creature is crying out for someone, anyone.

Bern tugs at the leash again and this time you follow at his side.

The forest was scary for a number of reasons. You tripped on leaves and twigs, branches whacked you in the face. Fuck, you stepped into a puddle and now your shoe was wet. Still, you both persisted. You trudged along the path, Bernard gently whining and barking until an answering whine greeted him.

“What the fuck is that, Bernard?” You gasp, following your puppy until the shadowy world seems to lighten around you. A clearing in the forest. There’s a shape in the middle of it. Chestnut brown against the emerald green and dull mud of the ground beneath your feet. You get closer and Bernard whines again.

The creature whines back, and you're struck with the fact that this was a dog. A very big dog. You approach slowly. “Oh my god.”

You kneel down in front of it, and the creature whines again. It shifts closer to you, soft fur caressing your palms as the big dog all but shifts his body into your arms, hands caressing the thick, brown fur.

“What the fuck-“ You mutter, and the creature tenses. It makes a move to lean away, but you're quick to gather it close again with a soft, “No, no, no, it’s okay. It’s alright-“

You rub your fingers along the top ofl his head. “Where’s your owner, buddy?” You coo and the dog just sighs. Pressing his large head into your chest with a tiny whine. You carefully run a hand along his body, tensing when you reach a leg and he flinches. Something wet and sticky glazes your fingers and you’re suddenly very grateful Bernard brought you out here.

“What happened to you, baby? Oh, you poor boy-“

A snap to your right freezes you. The dog in your arms tenses, and the dog at your side whines fearfully.

Suddenly the dog is on his feet, persistently nudging you to yours. He growls at you, and the rumbling should scare you, but it doesn’t. “Wait, I’m not leaving you here-“

The dog barks again and Bernard barks back. There’s a barking match, and you try to get a word in but they aren’t listening. There’s another crunch of branches, and another howl similar to the one that woke you up.

Suddenly the bigger dog stamps a foot on the ground with a heavy sigh, growling at Bernard before letting out a put upon whine. Bernard yips back, licks your hand amd then takes off down the pathway.

Without you.

What the hell.

“Bernard! Wait-!” You turn to run after your dog, but you aren’t sure where he’s even going.

Chestnut, the name you decided to give the injured dog because this was getting confusing, is quick to run into your hands. Nudging your stomach and pressing his fur into your fingers.

Let me help. You can almost hear him say as he rumbles. His fur bristles as the creature gets closer and closer to your spot. Let me get you out of here.

“Okay.” You grip into his thick fur, and Chestnut nudges you with his cold nose before tugging you along into the dense forest. You try to keep up with him, but your cane isn’t really doing much to help you right now. Chestnut seems to agree because he takes the cane between his teeth and whines apologetically when he takes it out of your hands. He then ducks down, swooping between your legs and lifting you onto his back in a motion so smooth, he must have done it before.

“Chestnut, dude!” You yelp, leaning forward and holding onto him for dear life. The dog tilts his head, whines in confusion, before racing away from the spot when the creature behind you cries out again.

Even with his injured leg, Chestnut is fast. The wind whips against your skin and deafens your ears. You close your eyes to protect them, burying your face in his fur which was a woodsy scent.

Breaking out from the woods, voices suddenly cut through the rushing air.

“Over here!”

“Shit! What happened?!”

“Where is it, is it after you?”

The voices meld into one and you try to answer, but that horrifying screech cuts you off. You bury your face into Chestnut’s fur while the others scream in surprise.

“Jesus H. Christ, I thought you killed all of them?!”

“Doesn’t matter, get out of the way!”

Gun shots rang out over your head and you bury yourself deeper into Chestnut’s fur. He’s quick to run away from the fire, coming to stop a ways away before depositing you against a wall and handing over your cane. Not wanting to be alone, you reach for him but he barks. Ducking away and whining apologetically.

Before you could panic, a new bark sounds beside you. Bernard whines, pressing into your leg and you all but collapse into him. “Bern!” You sob, pulling him close to you while he licks your face and whines apologetically.

War rages just a ways away from you two. Guns shot through the night, growls and screeches made your ears ache. You held Bernard close to your chest, face buried in his matted fur as the battle raged on.

"El, now!"

There was a cry, a human one this time. A grotesque ripping and shredding followed along with a ghastly cry of pain until all grew quiet.

You slowly lift your head from your dog's fur, tears pooling in your eyes while you try not to whimper. Whatever that was, you were grateful you couldn't see it.

Soft, thudding footsteps came closer to you and Bernard. The irony scent of blood hit your nose and you sighed in relief as Chestnut gently woofed. Nuzzling your cheek with a whine, you lean into him.

"Thanks Chestnut, thanks for saving us." You murmur, scratching under his chin. He makes a rumble in his throat, nose brushing your cheek.

"Chestnut? But that's s-" The voice was cut off with a grunt as more footsteps came closer.

“Are you okay?” Another voice asked, this one actually pretty familiar.

“Robin?!”

The woman chuckles nervously as she crouches down beside you. “Hey. Bernard came to my door and led me here, thank god we made it in time.”

“Bernard- Wait, what? Bernard went to come find you?” You sat up, immensely confused as more voices overlapped. In the time between running from the monster and getting out of the forest, your boy had rounded up a collection of Pre-teens, Robin, and…the chief of police?!

“That’s one smart dog of yours.” Hopper’s gruff voice broke out amongst the gaggle of teens. “Wouldn’t stop barking till I got my ass out of bed.”

Bernard barks proudly, tail thumping with glee as he’s flooded with praise. You rub at his back, also just as proud but…confused. Very confused. How did he know? Your dog was smart, but even so, how?

Chestnut nuzzles into your chest and whines, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Oh my god, your leg- We need to get him to a vet!” You shift, but Chestnut makes a discontented noise. Somehow you knew it was a protest as he shook his head against your stomach. “You’re bleeding, you aren’t fine.” You insist, nudging at him despite how big and heavy he was.

There’s a snickering until another voice cuts through. This one is unfamiliar. “She’s right *Chestnut*, that’s one fucked up bite you got there.” He teases and the younger party breaks out in a few giggles, mainly between the boys. Chestnut barks at them and you run your hands along his soft fur.

“I’m sorry! It’s just his hair looks like chestnuts and I didn’t want to keep calling him ‘The dog’ and-“

“Well yeah, that’s a wolf in your hands, Sweetheart.” The voice coos, stepping closer. The figure was wearing a ton of black, and the jingle of chains registers in your ears. Chestnut gives a warning growl at the man, and he chuckles. “Sorry, sorry. Name’s Eddie, and he’s gonna be okay. He’s already starting to heal, see? Touch the wound.”

You brush a hand over the once bitten flesh, gasping as all you felt was a scab forming. “Wait, how, what-“

“You gonna tell her, or do I?” Eddie asks, but his voice is directed to the comfortable dog, no, wolf in your lap. Chestnut sighs, letting out a small huff of an answer before slowly rising from your body. He walks away, and you sit there for a second. “Tell me what, where’s he going?”

“Just give him a minute, he kinda needs to get decent. You almost done over there man?”

“You try putting on pants over a wound, Munson!”

…..

“Steve?!”

————

—

#thebunspeaks #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things hc #steve stranger things #blind!reader #disabled!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x disabled! reader #werewolf!steve #steve harrington x you #I really hope ya’ll like this one!

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