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manicpixiefelix · 4 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

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At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

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481 notes · View notes

the-modern-typewriter · 11 months

Note

Love your writing! An idea, if you like it: villain finds out that their lover is actually their hero nemesis. Villain leverages this in their confrontations by threatening the hero's lover--ie their own secret identity. Basically a villain using their intimate knowledge of their lover to gain an advantage.

Part of them knew it was wrong to enjoy their lover like this - jaw clenched in steely determination, eyes wide and bright with an intoxicating combination of terror and bravery.

That part was drowned out entirely by the bit of them that stepped giddying closer, smoothing their palms down the desperate thump of the hero's chest. The horror of it.

"You think I didn't know?" the villain murmured. "About your little love affair?"

"If you lay so much as a hand on them-"

"-You'll what?"

The hero looked so protective, so willing to do absolutely anything for them. The hero's jaw clenched further; an animal baring of teeth. They took the villain's hands off them and squeezed, hard enough to hurt.

"Perhaps I'll reconsider my policy on murder."

The villain laughed, at that. It wasn't really funny so much as, yet again, giddying. When it was just the two of them alone, their lover was the gentlest person alive. Good and kind and oh so sweet. Seeing the person in front of them...

"Sexy," the villain purred.

The hero shoved them back.

The villain bit on their lip, unable to help it as they considered the hero. "What do you think your love would think of the blood on your hands?"

"If it keeps them safe, it's worth it."

"Oh?"

The hero's gaze raked over them, searching for an open. Futile, really. Their love was not a killer. The villain would never push them to that. Still.

"Alright, alright," the villain pretended at grace, stepping forward again. They scooped the hero's fists in their hands and pressed a half-mocking kiss to their knuckles. "Easy, tiger. We both know I'm more interested in you."

The hero's hands twitched, but they didn't pull away.

"Just stand down and get out of my way and I'll have no reason to hunt them down."

They imagined detailed ransom videos. They wanted to see what the hero looked like when they heard them screaming, praying, begging for mercy. Patience. They could see the hero's fury and their despair and their love most of all.

All the love they struggled to express when it was just the two of them, as if fighting villains was more important.

"I tell you this," the hero said, "and next time you threaten them again, ask for something else."

"Before you think about killing me, please bear in minds that I've put in fail safes should I die. Ruining your love being one of them."

The hero swallowed. They seemed to be trying to decide if that was true or not.

"I know so many of their secrets," the villain confessed, "everything that would ruin their comfortable life with you, every dark and dirty thing that they would hate the world to see. I don't have to hurt them to hurt them, my dearest hero."

"Don't call me that," the hero snapped.

But the villain knew they'd won.

The hero hadn't pulled back and they hadn't lashed out, not physically. They were always fine with a threat to themselves, but this?

The villain almost hadn't thought they could have so much power.

They never wanted to let it go.

But, they never wanted to let the hero go either. They never wanted to wake up one day to a world where someone else had hurt them, when they were already gone.

"Stand down," the villain whispered. "And you can be so very happy."

And, at least for a little while, the hero did.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #story #secret identity #ficlet #villain #hero

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coffeetheactualjellii · 2 months

Text

"Diluc x Male Bodyguard Reader"

Content: Smut, aftercare, and enemies to eventual lovers.

Smut Content: Anal, Oral (reader receiving), Use of Aloe Vera as Lube.

A/n: Hello Guys! It's finally time that i uploaded this lol, but the thing i promoted this as is true it is co-written by me and my ex-girlfriend/situationship lol. Btw this might be a oneshot or a three part series depending on how well this does and if she still wants to co-write with me.

A/N update: [[ Me and my ex are no longer in talking terms as of now, because she got a new partner and its weird that Me (her ex) is asking her to write smut with me lol. I might write the following ones by myself. ]]

!!MDN!!

Word count: 2.2k

____________________________________

Kingdoms Fall

The three Kingdoms in Monstatd live in harmony in the Continent of Teyvat.

You work for the Ragvindr family as the personal guard of their son Diluc. The Reign-ing Monarch of the kingdom of Krasi as one of their soldiers.

The family has always been very traditional, royalty must marry royalty, Future king gets the throne regardless of the eldest daughter or not. Y’know, the basics. Now as a soldier you’re never close to any of the royals, the closest you’ve gotten to any of them is a simple “yes, sir,” or “Yes, ma’am.” Now you were assigned to guard their oldest son, Diluc Ragvindr. Keep in mind, this man hates you, he doesn’t like the thought of having a personal guard let alone a guard at all. Your duty as his personal guard is to follow and take note of his every single move, where he goes, what he does, even what he says.

Today the prince is training with some of the guards. You watch closely as he takes down the soldiers one by one slightly impressed by his skills. He takes the soldiers down one by one, leaving bruises and even some dislocated limbs on a few of the soldiers.

You see Diluc, a tall young man with crimson hair and autumn eyes. He’s a strong young man and it shows through his body shape and tight leather clothes. Diluc turns to face you, pointing his index finger directly at you. “You’re next.” He says with heavy breath and a raspy baritone voice as if he’s talking to a rival, a nemesis, an enemy.

As you stepped out onto the battlefield you and Diluc began to circle around each other, threatening each other death stares, gradually walking around each other, round, and round, and round you go.

When the call was made Diluc ran at you giving you a good hit in the chest. You returned the gesture by kicking him in the leg sending him down on one knee. This battle went back and forth, over, and over, and over again. One minute you would have the upperhand, the next he would have the upper hand. About what felt like hours (which was actually just 15 minutes) you won the battle pinning Diluc to the ground with your leg against his back holding his hands bound behind his back.

“Okay! I yield! I yield! You win!” He yells from underneath you with heavy breath and an annoyed tone.

You stood up walking away from the man and standing with the rest of the soldiers. Diluc is surprised by you being able to defeat him, you could clearly tell that he’s pissed about it and that thought brings you joy.

An hour later; The prince is currently taking a nice bath as he washes off the residue from training, you are standing outside the curtain, listening in on him washing, scrubbing, wiping, whatever a prince does in a shower.

You continue to listen in on him scrubbing away until it stops…

Nothing…

Absolute silence as you wait for the prince to say something, you begin to get worried. Even if it’s the prince you couldn’t help but take a peek just to make sure that the prince is okay, but then you see him, naked, and standing there… staring.

“Ah, so the personal guard has interests?~” He says in a teasing manner as you quickly close the curtain, a crimson hue appears on your face as he walks towards you, he opens the curtain, widely to show the prince standing there… Naked

“My apologies prince, you had me worried for a second there.” You try to explain but it seems that Diluc doesn’t believe you, you can hear him chuckle a little bit with the same teasing tone.

“Are you sure, cause… your cheeks sure do say otherwise.” He says in a teasing manner, suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer and through the curtain into the bathroom as you feel another hand on your face forcing you to gently look behind to, seeing Diluc with wet hair forces more blush into your cheeks basically turning you into a tomato of sorts.

You notice a sly smirk on his face as he pulls you closer, even through the thick leather you’re wearing you can feel his wet skin against you. As you stare deeply into his eyes you notice something there, not the usual spark of hate you had been used to, not the hint of boredom he usually had when you two were alone. It’s something new, something you thought you would never see, not when he’s looking at you anyways, the longer you stared, the more you noticed. It was, Lust?

Yes, it is, lust in the eyes of a prince? That couldn’t be, he hates you, despises you, how could a prince like Diluc have lust for a soldier? It’s against the royal code, against all rules, against the whole royal family line… But it’s there, and you know it.

As Diluc begins to lead you backwards still holding you by the waist, without warning he turns your face back kissing you passionately. You had no time to react, not time to stop him, but then you noticed it… *Are you enjoying this? No, no, you can’t, this is against all moral code, against what being a soldier is about*. Half way through contemplating your life choices you feel Diluc slip his tongue into your mouth tasting yours, you couldn’t help but let out a low groan at the taste and the feeling.

Diluc pulls you back by the waist slowly bringing you closer to him as you feel his naked, et chest press against your back. His every touch on you sends a chill down your spine. Without warning he turns your head back to face him as he kisses you passionately before trailing down from your lips to your neck and so on to your collarbone. You can feel his lips on your skin as he begins to leave hickeys every here and there.

As Diluc breaks the kiss looking at you with a chuckle, you can see the need in his eyes, the want he has. “I see you enjoyed that.~” He says with another tease before kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, tasting every inch of your mouth earning another low groan from you.

Half way through the kiss you feel something running up your thigh, something warm, something soft. The kiss is interrupted by a sharp breath in as you feel something on your crotch, holding it, rubbing it through your pants as you moan deeply into Diluc’s mouth. Diluc breaks the kiss letting out a low chuckle as he looks at you deeply in the eyes. As the feeling of his hand continues to massage your crotch rubbing up and down forcing a few low moans out of your mouth.

“I see you like it.” Diluc whispers into your ear in a low seductive tone as he continues to rub against your crotch.

Out of nowhere you feel his hand slip into your pants slowly pulling them down as you watch with heavy breath, the red returns to your cheeks as you feel his hand make their way to your skin. You can feel Diluc’s breath against your ear, your heart beating faster with each stroke of his hand.

“Ah!~♡♡” You let out a sudden moan as you notice his hand wrap around your dick moving up and down slowly.

You can still feel his breath against your ear as he lets out a low chuckle, then moving his hand slightly faster earning more and more moans from you. Half way through the ‘session’ he pulls your face to look at him as he kisses you passionately still rubbing your crotch and making your knees shaky. Your moans muffled into his mouth as hand continues to move faster and faster on your cock. Soon you eventually came all over the floor and his hand as you pulled away from the kiss throwing your head back onto his shoulder letting out a final goran. Diluc looks down at his hand covered in hot cum and sweat before he looks back up at you with a low chuckle.

“You took that so well.” He whispers into your ear leaving a slight kiss, you begin to take this chance to catch your breath and your heart.

You are then forced to turn over facing him as he pulls you closer for a kiss teasing your dick in the process. You begin to feel him removing your shirt now undoing it button by button and peeling it off, pulling one arm out of each sleeve at a time eventually completely taking your shirt off. Diluc then begins to kiss your neck and leaves a few love bites going down to your shoulder, getting elicit whimpers from your mouth, trying so hard not to moan loudly.

Diluc begins to lead you out of the bathroom he drags you to the bed pushing you down and laying you out now completely undressed, as he trails his kisses back upwards meeting your lips.

As Diluc continues to kiss you passionately he brings you legs up still rubbing lightly against your dick, halfway through this process you notice another feeling, despite him rubbing against you in such a way bringing you close to ecstasy. You notice his hands travel towards your ass until he circles it with his thumb “ahh look at your pretty little ass” he says You get a hard shock on your ass as you realise he just slapped your ass leaving a red hand mark on it. “♡A-ahh♡♡!!~” A loud moan escapes your lips as you feel the sharp feeling of pain mixed with pleasure. “hmm i didn't know that my little knight was a slut.” Diluc whispers into your ear as he gives you another hard slap on the ass, probably now leaving a bruise.

Diluc walks to his Vanity and gets a jar of Aloe vera (that he uses for his hair Normally) he walks back to the bed putting the aloe vera in his night stand. His dick was 5 inches, he started to rub his cock and now it's rising it's about 6 inches fully hard.

Diluc leaned down to rub your dick with one of his hands and his other and started to circle around your small virgin hole “♡A-ah♡♡!~” You let out a whimper as you feel his fingers enter your hole, stretching it out just a bit. After he takes out his finger and puts some Aloe vera and uses it as a Lube, he continues to push his fingers in and out as you moan. Feeling his fingers begin to go deeper into you, reaching as far as his finger can go.Then he adds a Second You can feel his fingers pushing in and pulling out causing you to bend forward arching your back allowing Diluc more access to your asshole.

He adds a Third finger and he slides his fingers up and down Over, and over, and over again pushing into your asshole and pulling out forcing moans out of you as you are forced to cover your mouth in order to stay quiet.

You let out a low groan at the feeling of Diluc removing his fingers from your ass. You then notice that his dick is hard and it’s obvious. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain as Diluc slips his dick inside you stretching your tiny hole.

You can hear a few low groans from him as he lets you adjust to his size for a couple of seconds. Soon he begins to thrust into you slowly, he gradually fastens his pace, he begins to build up his speed and over and over earning a few moans along the way. As he continues to thrust into you, you begin to moan louder and louder with every thrust eventually forcing the prince to cover your mouth.

“Shh. We don’t want anyone to find out now do we.” Diluc whispers into your ear as he continues to thrust into you faster, and faster, stretching out your hole to its limits as he lets out a few low groans. A few tears fall down your cheeks, as he continues to thrust into you faster and faster eliciting multiple gasps and whines out of you. High pitch squeals and heavy breaths escape your mouth at the feeling of his massive cock inside you.You then feel something warm and slimy enter your hole as Diluc cums into you leaving his cum and some of your blood all over your now stretched hole. As he begins to catch his own breath, he lets out a satisfied grunt as he falls beside you lying on the bed heaving and satisfied before reaching over to you for a warm kiss as he pulls you closer

. ”Hmm, is my little knight satisfied?” Diluc said pulling out of your ass, your legs were kinda sore so you stayed lying down ;Diluc went back to the bathroom. When he came out he has a towel wrapped around his waist to cover his complexion and a damp towel that was put into some warm water to clean you up.

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc smut #diluc x male reader #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc x you #genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #sub male reader #sub reader #diluc x reader smut #diluc x male reader smut #diluc x y/n

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aspiring-house-husband · 4 months

Text

hundreds of battles with his arch nemesis, and it’s some random villain that kidnaps the hero.

you’re blindfolded and gagged, your wrists bound and bound again to a chair. and you didn’t even know who had kidnapped you.

but you heard some grunts, and the door to your cell slid open with footsteps pounding toward you.

“i got you,” says whoever it is, and they pull the gag from your mouth.

“thank you,” you breathe, holding still as your rescuer slams a blade through the ropes holding you to the chair. you stand quickly, but hear thugs coming through the door.

“i’ll get you out,” he promises, and you feel a gentle hand on your stomach swiping you behind him.

“unmask me, i can help,” you say, but you’re drowned out by the sounds of the fight. it doesn’t take long for your rescuer to gently touch your shoulder.

“follow me,” he says, and turns from you. his hand begins to slip from your shoulder as he runs, but you catch up to him and find his hand still extended behind him, guiding you, his fingertips just barely keeping contact with your chest. you follow him blindly, as though stumbling through sleep to chase a dream, until he stops you softly and closes a door behind you.

“it’s alright,” he says, and pushes you back into a padded chair, likely a couch. it’s soft enough that you don’t mind leaning against your bound hands. “let’s get that off.”

you close your eyes as he pulls the blindfold from your head, and you open them to the face of your arch nemesis, the terrible villain.

“hello, gorgeous,” he says, his teasing smile too familiar. he’s got one hand pressed to the back of the couch behind you, leaning over you. “long time, no see.”

“you rescued me?” you ask.

“of course,” he answers, leaning closer and letting his gaze wander your face. “you truly think i’d let anyone have the glory of your capture but me?”

“i didn’t-“ you choke off your own response as he lifts one knee up and indents the couch beside your hip. he says nothing, but keeps a smile as he lifts his other leg and settles down into your lap.

“didn’t what?” he asks. “didn’t expect me to be here? to know where to find you?” his second hand boxes in the other side of your head as he scoots his hips closer. “i make sure you never leave my sight, pretty boy.”

your throat’s dry as you swallow before you answer. “never?”

“never”, he answers, his hands sliding down to your shoulders, then the side of your neck. “i know all of what you do.”

you can’t quite hold back the shudder as he shifts his hips again, this time more insistently, with more intent. he lets out a soft breath as he goes, and presses his forehead to yours.

“i couldn’t let anyone else have you.” he slips his lips against yours, and moans into your mouth while his hands slide down to your waistband.

“h-have me?”

“you’re mine,” he answers, digging his fingers down until he can free your cock from your pants. “everyone can see it.” he wraps his fingers around you, and swallows your moan. “everyone knows that it’s you and me, against each other, together. no one else.”

“i- i didn’t-“

“shh,” he says, lifting himself up and pulling his clothes off. “you know it’s true. you know that no one will understand you like i do. don’t you?” he breathes out in ecstasy as he lowers himself over you. “i can’t have anyone but you,” he pants, mouthing from your lips down to your chin, making you raise it and breathe out toward the ceiling.

“and i won’t let anyone have you but me.”

he stops talking as he starts moving, pressing his whole body against you as he goes. your fingers flex against their binds, wishing you could hold his hips. your confusion submits to pleasure as he moves, chest to chest with you, his warmth radiating to you. he chants your name in prayer, softly, resting his forehead onto your shoulder so you can barely feel his lips brush against you while he speaks.

your name changes to pleas as his movement speeds up, and you can’t help but give in to the tightness in your stomach as he clenches, whimpering before he cums against you. you never thought it would feel like this, to cum inside your nemesis, to know the villain so intimately.

he shudders against you, whimpering non-words and kissing them into your collarbone.

“shh,” you breathe against his ear, kissing the side of his head. “it’s alright.”

“all mine,” he breathes, his chest still shaking with his afterglow. you breathe for a moment, resting your temple to him.

“free me,” you whisper, and one hand of his drops to your back to nimbly untie the binds. you lift your arms to his back just to hold him closer. “i can be yours,” you promise, carding your fingers through his hair. “you can be good, and i’ll be yours.”

“good,” he scoffs, and pulls away to kiss you, rough and demanding. “there’s no good in me. just selfishness. loyalty and rage and obsession. and all of it for you.”

he kisses you again, and you close your eyes into it. the moment you do, a sharp impact smacks into your head, and you wake up back in your own home, hours later.

the only evidence left is a hickey on your collarbone and the rope burn on your wrists.

#hi 👋#og #story #non monster

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save-the-villainous-cat · 4 months

Note

Might I request a possessive hero with a smart (but slightly naive) villain who has bitten off more they can chew with them. Please and many thanks

"Funny," the hero said and the villain almost dropped their groceries. They hadn't expected their dear nemesis to show up in their apartment on the weekend. The villain didn't crave violence.

Not now. Not when they barely knew how to be normal. One time, they had slowly realised how useless they were without it. How insignificant their life would be if the only thing they were good at, namely destruction, was taken from them.

"You’re very funny, have I ever told you that?" The hero didn't look amused but they were kind enough to take the bags of groceries and put them on the tiny kitchen island. They didn't waste any time though, they pushed the villain against the fridge easily and pressed a kitchen knife to their throat.

"Well…uh…"

"You asked my team for help but you didn’t ask me."

"I think you're being unreasonably upset," the villain said and even though the quite dramatic gesture of pressing a weapon to the villain's throat was a little too much, they had to admit that it was good to see the hero. Admittedly, they worried a little too much about their enemy. The hero was...impulsive. Easy to anger, easy to frustrate. It made the hero quite easy to defeat and usually (the villain liked to think) the villain was the one who decided over victory.

One might say the hero was bad at their job but that wasn't exactly true. The hero was a lot more violent if they had to be. Just like the villain.

However, when it actually came to a battle between the two, the hero seemed to be distracted.

"I'm not upset."

"The knife says otherwise."

Silence. The hero eyed the villain all over, as if the answer was written on their body. A lot of frustration went into a reaction this…drastic. What the villain could only explain as jealousy, was new. Eventually, the hero lowered their weapon.

"…I am sorry."

"So you are upset."

"Do you know how dangerous it is to go ask some heroes for their help?" the hero asked. They were quite serious. "Do you know how easy it would've been to kill you on the spot?"

"I was careful," the villain said. "And even if I hadn't been, this is no reason to threaten me in my kitchen with my knife."

"Shit," the hero cursed quietly. They took a few steps back and went with their hand through their hair. They knew they had made a mistake.

The villain eyed them yet again, trying to analyze this behaviour but it was quite difficult. The hero was a person who punched and asked questions later. Meanwhile the villain wouldn't ask at all if they could avoid it.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on...I've been upset for days and I don't know why. I cannot sleep. I want to fight but I don't want to kill. I need to do my job but I also hate it. I don't know what's wrong with me. And when I heard about you being in my agency, in the same building as me, I was just...I don't know." The villain slowly unpacked the groceries and put the milk in the fridge as they listened.

It had been a simple trade. Weapons for information. The villain was quite aware of the dangers and they had been careful.

They hadn't gone to the hero because, well, they didn't trust them. The hero acted strange around them. They were slower, not really there when they were fighting.

God, the villain wasn't stupid. They studied the hero's fighting style like everyone else's and the hero was much more aggressive with other villains. It had to be some sort of trick, some sort of game.

"Maybe you should switch sides. A hero shouldn't think like that," the villain answered. They watched the hero's hands fidget.

"You have no idea how many heroes think like that," they said. "But I don't want to cause harm, I just need to put this somewhere."

"Put what somewhere?"

"These feelings. Put these feelings somewhere. I think I am going crazy." The villain knew that feeling well. But it wasn't quite the same, was it?

"Why are you here?" the villain asked. They put the eggs in the fridge. The hero was surely not here to whine about their horrible hero-life. The villain had had the slight suspicion that the hero knew where they lived but they had actually never shown up.

And exposing themselves and their knowledge like that was a grave mistake. Now, the villain was aware that they knew where they lived. Thus, making every future plan the hero had thought of more difficult.

No, they weren't here to talk about their feelings.

"I wanted to see you." The villain almost dropped their apples.

"To fight?"

"No-- no, I just needed to see you. I'm uh-" they looked at the knife in their hand "- I'm sorry about this. I'm working on it. But...thank you."

They put the knife on the counter and left through the window.

After a while, the villain realised their cheeks were glowing and they did not know why.

#yes please and thank you #just a villain and their little unstable hero hihih nothing to see here #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #not proofread ok???

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in1-nutshell · 4 months

Note

Hi!! It's me again! I absolutely LOVE the latest post so how about we switch it around this time?

Imagine being tfp Megatron's older brother who is WAY different from him, so hipper, pinky, soft and happy all the time just like pinky pie until he gets his hands on his guns and blasters as he starts shooting and blasting all the enemies while laughing like a maniac.

Also can you please make him and Optimus have a secret relationship? Thank you for doing my request(s) and i hope you have a wonderful day!!

Its fun doing these request when one sibling has the complete opposite personality as the other. As for the romantic side of this, I left it vague, but its there. Thinking it as pre relationship pinning. I chose random Con's since you did not specify which ones. If these are not the ones you want, please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron’s older brother who is a softy and trigger happy for blasters

SFW, platonic, slight romantic, familial, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

No one knows how they are related. Many speculate that the older brother simply lost his mind. Others think it’s some sort of master façade he is pulling off. But he is known widely on both sides of the war for his insane usage of their blaster. A true agent if chaos behind that blaster.

Despite this Buddy is one of the softer Con’s onboard the Nemesis. When he is not wielding a blaster in the heat of battle, he is the other doctor besides Knockout.

He is a visible representation of the good side of the Decepticon cause.

Megatron

He loves his older brother truly.

But the way he acts irks him greatly, especially seeing how long the war has dragged out.

He loves seeing his older brother behind the blaster. He knows that he will hit his target and get things done.

As one of the only other doctors Megatron doesn’t bring Buddy out to the field as often as he’d like. But in a way it is good to know that his brother is safe on the ship.

Starscream is not allowed 10 feet from Buddy.

Megatron is no fool in how powerful his brother can be, whether with blaster or his words. He did after all help him with his manifesto before the war broke out.

He used to tease his older brother for having feelings for Orion Pax back on Cybertron.

“It appears we have soft spots for archivist, brother. Some of us however, softer than others?”--Megatron

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Megatron. Pax and I are just friends.”--Buddy

“I never specified it was Orion Pax.”--Megatron

“…”--Buddy

“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”--Megatron

“…Not a word…”--Buddy

But now as Optimus Prime, Megatron does not let Buddy anywhere near him. He is afraid deep down that the Autobots will take advantage of him, or worse get him to defect to their side.

If Buddy ever defected to the other side, not only would Megatron spiral more into his madness, but he knows he won’t be able to hurt Buddy.

He just couldn’t do it if it came up.

“Prime?”--Buddy

“Hello.”--Optimus

“What seems to be the occasion? We are not by any energon mines or ships…”--Buddy

“I have come to ask you something.”--Optimus

“And what would that be?”--Buddy

“Will you—”--Optimus

“YOU WILL NOT!”--Megatron

“Megatron?!”—Optimus and Buddy

“Wait how did you get here?”--Buddy

“GET YOUR FILTHY SERVOS FROM MY BROTHER, PRIME!”--Megatron

“HE WASN’T EVEN TOUCHING ME!?”--Buddy

“DIE!”--Megatron

Soundwave

Soundwave is one of Buddy best friends aboard the Nemesis.

As the brother of his leader Soundwave comes to Buddy a lot to relay messages or give updates.

Buddy in return makes sure that his workplace is spic and span. For maximum work efficiency of course.

Buddy is often followed by Lazerbeak when they go out of the ship. Buddy doesn’t mind it too much enjoying the minicons company.

“Are you joining me on my patrol today Lazerbeak?”--Buddy

Lazerbeak bobbing up and down.

“Heh. Then let us go, my friend. The sooner we do patrol the sooner we come back to the ship.”--Buddy

During the early stages of the war, Buddy often teamed up with Soundwave’s minicons whenever he wasn’t called to Megatron’s side. Soundwave knew that if they were with him, they would be fine.

The one time he wasn’t there…

It was a day of mourning for the small group of Decepticon’s that had recently formed. Buddy held on to Soundwave as he mourned and did his oath of silence.

There is an unspoken respect for each other that runs deep.

If Buddy was ever in danger on the battlefield, Soundwave is the first to send a ground bridge to his location. Worst case scenario, he is going in there himself to get Buddy out of there.

“Prime, it seems we are alone on the battlefield again.”--Buddy

“It seems we are.”--Optimus

“Are we going to finish this? Or are we going to wait for my brother?”--Buddy

“Whatever choice you make. Though this would not be the case if you’d join—”--Optimus

Groundbridge opens as Soundwave is flying to get Buddy out of there.

“Till we meet again Prime!”--Buddy

“Till we meet again.”--Optimus

Knockout and Breakdown

These two are his best friends. They share the number one slot.

Soundwave is the close second.

At first the pair was weary of Buddy for his reputation on the battlefield and being the older sibling of their leader.

They are very much surprised on how soft Buddy was.

Over time they stop being so stiff and come to relax in each other’s presence.

There is a lot of gossip that happens in the medbay.

Knockout finds himself a new doctor friend to talk to.

“So, what did the human do this time?”--Buddy

“Well, this one decided to scratch my paint job. So, I thought it was only fitting to do the same.”--Knockout

“Is the human dead?”--Buddy

“…No?”--Knockout

“Knockout.”--Buddy

“Maybe? I don’t know.”—Knockout

Breakdown finds himself a new sparring partner and co-nurse/co-doctor. The two of them often look out for the Vechicon soldiers.

“Do you think we can get the Vechicon’s better rationings?”--Breakdown

“I’ll see what I can do Breakdown. I think I can do it.”—Buddy

If Buddy is in any danger while they are together, they are making sure that Buddy has their support. Knockout attends Buddy’s wounds and will snap at him for trying to mend it himself.

“Will you stop picking the welding! You should know that irritates the wound!”--Knockout

“… It itches…”--Buddy

“Oh my—Breakdown hold him down.”--Knockout

“Wait what?”--Buddy

“Sorry Buddy but this is for your own good.”--Breakdown

“You both are traitors to my itching!”--Buddy

Vechicons

All of them visibly relax when Buddy comes in.

Everyone knows Buddy and their reputation. It’s not a reputation anyone can take lightly.

But he does take extra care of the smaller troops that go out into battle. Besides Breakdown, Buddy seems to be the only other bot who actively worries about the lives of each and every one of them.

“Hello Steve.”--Buddy

“Oh! Hello Buddy—I mean Lord—”--Steve

“At ease. And you know how I feel about those titles.”--Buddy

“Of course.”--Steve

On the slower days on the ship, Buddy likes to talk to the crew to boost their morality or give them a shoulder to vent or cry on because this war had gone on for millennia and there seems to be no end in sight.

If Buddy was ever wounded in battle, all the Vechicons are on it. They make sure that he gets back to the ship as quickly as possible. Screw whatever mission, they are getting one of the only Cons that cares out of there alive.

Buddy is down! I repeat Buddy is down!”—Vechicon 1

“Get him out of there! Flank left and right!”—Vechicon 2

“On it!”—Vechicon 3

“Don’t worry Buddy we are taking you back to the Nemesis for repairs.”--Steve

“Knockouts not going to be happy about this.”--Buddy

Somewhere on the Nemesis.

“I feel like someone’s paintjob got horribly scratched.”--Knockout

“How can you tell?”--Breakdown

“I don’t know… but it feels wrong.”--Knockout

#maccadam #transformers #transformers x reader #tfp #tfp x platonic reader #tfp x reader #tfp megatron #tfp knockout #tfp breakdown #tfp vehicons #bot buddy

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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months

Note

Why dies tousen hate horoscopes?

Scene: Ninth Division HQ, about 10 years after Turn Back The Pendulum and a few years into the regular publication of The Seireitei Bulletin, The Gotei-13's officially endorsed monthly periodical, produced by the 9th Division, of which one Captain Kaname Tousen is Editor-In-Chief: Tousen could feel the sizzling aura well before he ever set foot in the 9th divisions courtyard, and a good ten minutes before the loser of the hasty break room janken tournament coughed nervously at his office door.

"Yes, Hashimoto?" he sighed.

"The. Uh. The Captain-General is here to see you." Hashimoto stammered. "Actually he's right here in the hall if you want to-"

Yamamoto strolled up to the threshold of the door but did not quite step inside. There were rules, and even The Great Genryusai Yamamoto was beholden to them. "Captain Tousen." he spoke evenly.

"Sir." Kaname stood up and bowed as Hashimoto sprinted back down the hall. His footfalls did not entirely cover the sound of others slinking closer to eavesdrop. This was the 9th, and Kaname would be the first to admit he'd be a little disappointed if their meeting wasn't being carefully and discretely documented by several division members.

Now that he had been acknowledged, Yamamoto stepped in. "At ease." he nodded, and Tousen shifted positions a bit into an easier but no less cautious stance.

The Captain-General went to stand in front of the window beside Kaname's desk, looking down into the courtyard of the Ninth, or perhaps the extensive collection of Bird feeders a confused but earnest Ukitake had gifted Kaname over the years*. "...Captain Iba has been to see me."

Tousen winced. Third Division Captain Chikane Iba, mother of Young Tetsuzaemon and Astrology Fanatic, was Kaname Tousen's third-greatest personal nemesis, and that was only because he had not yet figured out how to Murder Aizen and Gin.

"She claims you were rather sharp with her when you turned down her proposal to include a Horoscope in The Bulletin." Yamamoto continued, watching an exceptionally round bird with dramatic black facial markings hop between feeders, sampling the wide variety of seeds available.

"The contents of the Seireitei Bulletin are not the concern of anyone except the Ninth save in terms of veracity, and to that end, there is not, and will never be, a Horoscope in The Bulletin." Tousen spoke as evenly as possible, but the acid in his voice dripped through.

"I am aware this is not actually my problem," Yamamoto nodded as the little bird settled on a feeder full of safflower seeds. "-But Captain Iba seems determined to make it my problem, so I am politely asking you to make it cease being a problem at all."

"As I said, the foremost requirement of any information or article in the bulletin is that it be, to the best of our ability, accurate and true. In that sense, no horoscope has ever managed to pass the first requirement of publication." Tousen stood up straighter. "I cannot help it if Captain Iba chooses to believe in patent nonsense, but I absolutely refuse to indulge her childish and cruel superstitions."

Yamamoto turned to look at Tousen. "Cruel?"

"A horoscope is, fundamentally, a means of arbitrarily grouping people into various stereotypes based on the accident of their birth. Several of the stereotypes are as cruel as they are inaccurate. For instance, everyone born in from late August through September is a quarrelsome slut, according to her favorite theory of divination."

"...That doesn't sound like Sajin at all." Yamamoto muttered.

"Putting the fraudulent pseudoscience and outright fabrication of all the Zodiac's so-called facts to the side for a moment- It encourages prejudice in a very literal sense. Deciding whether you will be worshipful of or nemeses with someone based entirely on a date, and not one hint of their actual conduct!" Kaname waved his hands evocatively, trying to avoid raising his voice in from of his commander. "Furthermore, predestination is a callous philosophy- to say that our fate is written in the stars is as good as saying that any unfortunate circumstance someone may be born with is 'just how things are' and encourages an apathetic neglect of one's fellow man- if this is destiny, why bother trying to improve things? Worse still- if the stars dictate that someone be born with some misfortune, it is implied also that they *deserved* this misfortune somehow, and heaps the further misfortunes of guilt and being perceived as wicked onto people who were already suffering!"

"...You can tell why I cannot give even the barest hint of endorsement to this kind of thinking." Tousen sighed, gesturing to his face.

"Hm." Yamamoto nodded, watching the birds for a moment. "Your point is well-taken, but this still leaves Captain Iba and her cohort to be dealt with."

"I can lead a horse to water sir, but I cannot make her think." Tousen shrugged.

Yamamoto snorted with amusement. "She did say you compared Astrology rather unfavorably to livestock waste. What was it, Stupider than..?"

"I believe my exact words were that if one were to channel the entire farm animal waste of the rukongai for 100 years into a single location, one would still not have a pile of shit as spectacular as this stupider-than-sheep-smegma attempt at prognostication. Sir." Kaname mumbled.

"...Your former career as a Librarian really enhances the quality of your work." Yamamoto nodded, turning from the window and stepping closer to Kaname, head bowed conspiratorially. "Would you like some advice?"

"Sir?" Kaname tilted his head to point an ear at the old man.

"Understand that you shouldn't follow this advice too often, but I feel like it might help in this situation." Yamamoto cautioned.

Kaname nodded, curious.

"If you do something badly enough the first time, you will not be asked to do it a second time." Yamamoto explained with an audible grin in his voice.

Kaname blinked a few times, processing that, then broke out in a small, hopeful smile of his own.

"You understand. Good man." Yamamoto nodded, affectionately clapping Tousen on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Sir." Kaname grinned. "If you can remind me, When is Captain Iba's Birthday again?"

"September Fourtheenth." Yamamoto replied with a speed that indicated he'd looked up and been waiting to tell Tousen that date all morning. "As you were then, Captain Tousen."

"Thank you, Sir." Kaname bowed.

"I look forward to your next publication with great anticipation!" Yamamoto cheerfully called over his shoulder as he turned to leave, chucking quietly at the sound of manic typing already emanating from Tousen's office.

---

*Upon Tousen's extremely unfortunate promotion to Captain, an entirely good-natured and generous Ukitake had asked Tousen if he had any hobbies, with the intent of trying to get the poor thing's mind off The Tragedy, and scoping out an appropriate end-of-year gift for his new colleague.

Unfortunately, Kaname had been in a foul mood on account of the horror show his life had become, and had sarcastically replied "Bird-watching."

"Oh of course!" Ukitake had replied without missing a beat "-You ryouken is so sensitive you can probably pick a thrush out of a thicket a mile off, and you must be excellent at identifying bird calls!" And then proceeded to gift Kaname varying types of bird feeders, baths and houses until the small porch outside Tousen's office had become a stronghold of the Audubon Society.

Kaname did have to admit, Ukitake was right- with a little practice he *had* gotten quite good at using his spiritual sense to identify the hundreds of birds that passed through the Ninth, and the Birdsong both a comforting blanket of white noise and early warning of Gin's approach were it to suddenly cease.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach Fanfic #kaname tosen #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #No hate on recreational horoscopes but as a philosophy? they suck #There will be a Part 2 to this at some point #long post

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jovialmoonprincess · 5 months

Text

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 1)

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 992

Warning(s): None, enemy to lovers, back in time, destiny, Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Follow or like (or both) for part 2!

A month still remained until the announcement of the Plinth Award winner. While Y/N was still somewhat sleepy, in the midst of summer, a brief and subtle snowfall danced outside her window. Believing she was still dreaming, the student got up, opened the window, extended her arm, and touched the flakes to make sure. It was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen; it seemed like magic. She felt the urge to run out and celebrate the arrival of snow, as she did when she was a child. Maybe the Capitol had created a new technology and was testing it in the middle of the night. It seemed like a plausible theory. Y/N closed the window and sat at the edge of the bed, still feeling the coldness of the ice on her fingers. It didn't feel like a dream; Y/N wasn't a girl who dreamed often either. The last time she dreamt, she was in a park in the Capitol, with her mother gently pushing her on the swing. The games were over, people lived happily again, all in one place, there was peace, and no one would go hungry. As a kid, Y/N had suffered through the war, something she wouldn't overcome. And even now, in a place without hunger, with clean clothes and in the best school in the country, she still wasn't completely happy. How could she be happy while people were dying outside? Y/N quietly prayed to herself that a good person would become president, and her dream could come true. For now, she could only study to become someone who could make a difference in Panem. Even if she didn't know where to start.

Y/N looked out the window, and as the snow fell, she returned to her slumber. She couldn't help but think of another Snow, one that still brought her fond memories. Y/N was an idealistic young woman, driven by the memories of war and the fervent desire to make a difference in Panem. Her father, a respected peacekeeper, had left a controversial legacy, but she strove to follow a path of kindness and justice. Her father died after a while from an illness that was never properly explained; Y/N was sure that the reason for his death was remorse—his hands had innocent blood, and he knew it. He withered away gradually, and on his deathbed, he declared his hatred for war and those who supported it. He died cursing the Capitol and its architects.

Y/N wanted to be a better person; she had this opportunity, had hope to change the world around her. Every day, while donning the Academy uniform, she mentally prepared herself to enter the snake pit that was that place. She couldn't pick fights with anyone, even though she wanted to desperately. She remembered how many fights she had tried to avoid only to end up completely ignored and still punished for her good intentions.

The snow falling outside brought back memories of a simpler time, before the fights and rivalries that marked her life at the Academy.

Y/N was beloved by everyone in school, even though she couldn't care less about those spoiled and corrupt rich kids. She couldn't stand them, but there was someone she detested even more: Coriolanus Snow. He wasn't like the others; his past was different, more similar to hers. And yet, he seemed to forget that. He only cared about his grades and not the people around him. They had fought several times since Y/N entered the academy. It was impossible for them to be in the same room without disagreeing about something. She still remembered their first fight when she asked her brother for help to finish a project of a class they were doing together, and they both ended up with the same grade. Snow, not content with just his top grade, found out and did everything to get the teacher to lower Y/N's grade. Insufferably arrogant. As beautiful as he was, he was despicable. After that, it got worse; he always reminded her that she was the second-best student in the class and that he was better, blah, blah, blah. He never even wondered if you cared about your grades. Apart from this obsession, he was nice outside the academy. You were good friends with Tigris; you loved her, and it wasn't because of Corio that you would stop seeing your friend.

Before all of this, Corio had been a nice guy a few times (most of them when he wasn't all pompous around his rich friends). You invited him to the winter ball before the first fight, close to your first anniversary in the Capitol. You danced all night, and he gave you your first kiss. It was quick, and you never talked about it again. Even that scene still gave you chills to this day. It was only after your grades increased and you began to stand out in class that he started treating you with a certain indifference. It was childish, and you felt a weight on your chest for not continuing with what you had, even if it was little. What was once little became nothing. You still saw Tigris from time to time, but Corio rarely left his room, where he had been locked studying for the last few months. You wished you hadn't left him hanging after the kiss, but you were so shocked and didn't understand your feelings. You couldn't distinguish the attraction you felt for him from the fear of losing a friend. Well, you ended up losing him in the same way.

The twist in her routine came when a mysterious woman, dressed in vibrant colors, approached Y/N on an empty street. Her words, filled with urgency, revealed a dark fate for Coriolanus Snow. Y/N, initially skeptical, saw her disbelief fade away when the woman offered an object that provided disturbing glimpses of the future. It was something like two watches joined by a golden chain. As soon as she touched it, she saw everything. It wasn't possible to hear anything, but it wasn't necessary.

The projected scenes showed an unrecognizable Snow: kissing a girl through a cell, then with buzz cut hair shooting birds in a forest, and finally, with his blond hair combed back, looking at the rector's corpse with hatred. She wanted to vomit. She didn't want to believe. Y/N didn't doubt Snow's ability to be a jerk; it had happened several times with her already. But it usually involved some petty ego fight. He didn't seem like a murderer. Y/N felt a mixture of disgust and disbelief. The arrogant antagonist of her school life now seemed destined for a path of destruction.

"Y/N, I know you're a good girl; they told me you'll be of great help at the moment, and even if you doubt me, you'll try to help everyone. The next years will be dark, you wanted your opportunity, and I'm offering it. In a month, important things will start happening in the timeline, and at certain moments, your participation will be decisive. When those moments come, you must intervene and use your intellectual and emotional intelligence to prevent the country's destruction." When the woman finally paused, it seemed like her brain still hadn't grasped the words. Y/N didn't feel fear from her; it was more like affection and compassion.

"Don't give up on him, Y/N. You know him. Even if he seems cold on the outside, I'm telling you there's still hope in something inside him."

Everything happened so quickly; in the blink of an eye, you were sitting in the cafeteria before class started with your snack in front of you, and your friends were completely unaware of your tumultuous mental journey.

"What's happening to me? Am I feverish, hallucinating for the past few hours? Everything feels like a horrible dream." She wondered, trying to distinguish the line between reality and the nightmare she had just witnessed. Her breathing was hurried; she must have looked like a lunatic. The crazy scenes still played in her mind. She wished to know what would happen, and especially who the girl passionately kissing Snow was. It wasn't the most shocking scene she had seen, but it was the one that bothered her the most for some reason.

The responsibility to prevent Coriolanus Snow's dark fate now rested on Y/N's shoulders. She found herself torn between disbelief and the conviction that something needed to be done to avoid an impending tragedy. The challenge was daunting, and the idea of helping someone she despised caused a deep emotional turmoil.

While facing this dilemma, Y/N knew she couldn't ignore the call of destiny. The month leading up to the Plinth Award became a period of anguish, both mentally and emotionally, for the mission she was destined to fulfill. The game of enemies would transform into a complex dance of redemption and understanding, and Y/N was about to embark on a journey that would challenge not only her convictions but also the limits of destiny itself.

---------

Thanks for diving into this story with me! Hope you enjoy the ride as much as I enjoyed creating it. Stay for more twists and turns! Cheers! 📖✨

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #president snow #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #enemy to lovers #angst #angst with a happy ending #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #fem reader #hunger games au

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silverynight · 8 days

Text

The pro hero convention

Finally, Izuku can't contain his excitement; he's going to meet All Might himself! Yeah, he's retired, but he'll attend this particular convention because he's now the mentor of one of the best pro heroes: Dynamight.

Now, Izuku truly admires him too, but the truth is that he bought his ticket because he wants to see All Might.

He wonders if he'd be willing to sign his merch or at least Izuku's old notebook in which he has gathered a lot of information about quirks over the past twenty years.

Izuku is just a quirkless boy who works at a bakery, but he's still a fan boy who loves to know everything about pro heroes and the things they do to protect society.

Maybe he can go see pro hero Shoto after that; it's not like he doesn't want to stay and see Dynamight as well... it's just that they used to go to the same school when they were very little and even though they weren't friends ('cause Katsuki himself told him that a couple of times), the little blond boy used to protect him from other kids that made fun of him and Izuku called him his hero because of it.

It'd be an awkward reunion, that's why he wants to avoid it. Besides, it's not like Katsuki has a friendly personality. It's one of the reasons his PR is exhausted at the moment and follows him basically everywhere.

Although now that he thinks about it, Katsuki has probably forgotten all about him already.

Maybe Izuku has nothing to worry about.

There's a huge line already; Katsuki has a lot of female fans because he's very handsome, just like Shoto.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to get in line because All Might is by himself watching everything from afar; the fact that no one recognizes his true form makes Izuku sad. It's true that it's not like most of people know the story behind All Might's power, but it's not a secret either.

Shaking with excitement, Izuku approaches the tall, thin and blond man with the dark blue suit and tries to speak without stammering too much.

"Could you please sign my notebook, All Might?"

The man smiles, although he looks a bit surprised at the same time.

Izuku gets flustered.

"I mean... I know you're not here to do that, but I thought–"

"I'd love to, young man."

"Really?" Izuku knows he has stars in his eyes at the moment and that he's blushing, but he can't help himself.

"Yeah, sure! Follow me!"

Izuku doesn't know how his legs somehow keep functioning, but they do. He walks behind All Might towards the table where Dynamight is signing merchandise with an expression that tells everyone he'd rather be anywhere else.

All Might sits on a chair next to the young pro hero and tells Izuku to show him everything he wants him to sign.

"Izuku?"

The green haired boy blushes to the tip of his ears and gets immediately nervous.

"Kacchan! Uhh... No, sorry! I mean Dynamight!" Izuku begs all the gods up there Katsuki doesn't kick him out before he gets at least one of his things signed by All Might.

"You can call me whatever the fuck you want," Katsuki smirks, looking suddenly very happy with himself.

His PR is having the worst time of her life; the girls in front of the line are impatient already and Izuku is sure more than one recorded Katsuki cursing out loud.

"Do you two know each other?" All Might smiles, genuinely curious.

"We used to go to the same school when we were little." Izuku says, very proud of himself because he sounded normal and didn't stammer once.

"We played house a lot; I used to demand Izuku to be my wife every single time," Katsuki says, very proud of himself.

Izuku's face turns completely red; he can't believe he had forgotten about that.

"Here." Katsuki hands Izuku his own phone while a very enthusiastic fan starts glaring at Izuku likes he's her nemesis now.

"Uhh..."

"Add your number."

Izuku is so nervous he doesn't even question it, he just does it. When he gives him the phone back, Katsuki has a huge grin on his face that shocks his own fans a bit because they're used to see him with a frown upon his face all the time.

"So... you have come here to see me?"

"I actually wanted to meet All Might."

Katsuki's smug grin disappears in an instant; he grimaces like he's in pain before narrowing his eyes.

Then he pouts like he used to do whenever Izuku didn't want to play house with him. Now, he remembers...

At that moment his PR tells Katsuki to keep signing and Izuku feels relieved for not having his undivided attention anymore.

All Might chuckles, looking from him to Katsuki with amusement before asking Izuku to put everything he wants him to sign over the table.

Izuku is too excited again to think about what just happened with Katsuki; he's never been so happy before.

***

He makes his exit quickly and goes directly to where pro hero Shoto is signing things for his fans.

Still shaking with excitement about what happened earlier, Izuku decides to wait in line to meet pro hero Shoto and keeps looking at all the merchandise All Might signed for him.

Izuku can't stop grinning the entire time.

"Izuku."

He gasps and he's sure a couple of people around squeak in delight when they notice Dynamight standing a few feet from the line.

"Kacchan!" Izuku mumbles, wondering how Katsuki managed to escape from his own signing.

"It's my lunch break," Katsuki says, almost like he's reading Izuku's mind.

He smirks when the green haired boy blinks at him, but has to growl at the people who gather around him to try to get a picture and an autograph too.

They take a couple of steps back as soon as they notice the way the pro hero is glaring at them.

"Let's go grab something to eat, Izuku. My treat..."

"I was waiting to–"

"Half and half is not worth it," Katsuki cuts him off, looking irritated out of the sudden. It must be due to the fact that he's always fighting Shoto over the first place.

Despite the expression on Katsuki's face, Izuku can't help but smile at him; it's like when they were kids, the blond had always been stubborn and kept following Izuku around until he agreed to play as his wife.

"Fine," Izuku gives in, allowing Katsuki to lead him outside the building for a moment.

They actually have a good time; it's like he never stopped seeing Katsuki because it's so easy to talk to him about anything.

Despite being just a quirkless guy, Katsuki seems genuinely interested in Izuku's life; he asks about the bakery and makes Izuku share the location with him.

At some point, Katsuki takes one of Izuku's hands in his and stares into his eyes in a way that makes Izuku turn completely red in seconds.

"I want us to be close again."

"Sure! I'd love to be your friend!"

To his confusion, Katsuki shakes his head a couple of times.

"I don't want us to be just friends," he says, leaning closer. "I want to start dating you."

"Are you sure? I mean we just–"

"I never do anything I don't want to; yes, I'm pretty sure," Katsuki assures him, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the forehead.

"Okay, let's start dating!"

Izuku thought it'd be weird to even think about it since Katsuki is one of the best pro heroes and he's very talented and famous, but the truth is that Izuku feels at home whenever he's with him.

Maybe this could work out.

The only bad thing about it is that in less than a day, Dynamight's fans find out through social media.

Izuku texts Katsuki about it, but it seems like he not only does not mind what they say, he just makes it worse by posting a couple of pictures he took of Izuku on his official Instagram.

It almost looks like Katsuki wants everyone to know he's dating Izuku.

It's alright, actually. Izuku is sure everything will be fine. Dating a pro hero can't be that complicated.

***

Patreon

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

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sheeple · 1 year

Text

Miracles don’t exist | 1: The Quidditch World Cup finale

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None this chapter [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Your first three years at Hogwarts were uneventful. As uneventful as being the daughter of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange can be.

From a very young age, you knew that your parents weren't normal people. I mean, with a mother who was convicted to Azkaban when you were just one and a father who disappeared. It was not hard to connect the dots.

Of course, as soon as you were popped out of the womb, you were left behind at Malfoy manor in the care of the same nanny that took care of your cousin, Draco. Your mother was too busy with being a Death Eater to care about a brat. Her words exactly.

And it's not like it matters anyway. The Malfoy's are good to you, even besides the fact that you are the Dark Lord's daughter. At first, they handled you with additional care. But after a while, they saw you more as a daughter than anything else. Especially aunt Cissy, who's always fussing over you.

The first time you were genuinely terrified was during the house sorting at Hogwarts. As a precaution, your last name was changed to Black, after your mother's maiden name. Having the surname of either Riddle or Lestrange was way too dangerous.

You can still remember the whispers as your name was called.

"A Black?" "I didn't know a Black her age still existed." "Could she be the daughter of the mass murderer?"

A sort of relief went through your body as you were sorted into Slytherin. There was no doubt, being the heir of Slytherin nonetheless. But still, the fear of disappointing a father that you've never met was all too great, even for an eleven-year-old.

That same year you got the first letter from your father. He wrote how proud he was of you for being sorted into Slytherin and that he expected big things from you. Thanks, dad, no pressure at all.

During your second year, you heard all kinds of weird whispers as you moved about the castle. It was then that you discovered that you could speak Parslemouth. The giant murder snake in the sewers was not as scary as many believed. Of course, as she was murdering muggle-borns, you felt guilty and tried to forbid her to do so. But the Basilisk couldn't help her nature.

After everything happened with the Chamber of Secrets, you went to Dumbledore and confessed everything, from your true parentage and being a Parslemouth. You cried while asking the headmaster to not expel you.

"My dear child", said Dumbledore calmly, producing a handkerchief out of thin air, "you have nothing to worry about. If I learned one thing throughout my long life, I've learned that parentage could mean nothing. If you let it mean nothing."

He did make you promise to give him every letter your father would send. You agreed without hesitating for a moment.

Third-year was uneventful. You stayed as far away from the Golden Trio as possible, knowing that Sirius Black was after Harry at the time. It proved difficult as they ─ especially Harry ─ were constantly around you. Even at remote parts of the castle, when you needed some time alone from all the stares and whispers, he seemed to find you.

You sniff, burying your face into your hands. Some sixth-year Gryffindor made you fall down a flight of stairs with a spell and scattered all your stuff around the ground.

Suddenly, a pair of feet appear in front of you and you jump up, raising your wand in defence. Harry Potter looks at you with wide eyes and your schoolbag in his hands.

You drop your wand and turn away, wiping away a stray tear. "What do you want, Potter?" The words come out harsh, just like you see your cousin do all the time.

The boy in question shuffles awkwardly from his left foot to his right. "Are you... are you okay? I saw what happened." He holds out your bag and you take it.

You mumble out, "thanks", and you stand awkwardly across from each other. You fumble with the straps of your bag while Harry plays with his tie.

"I don't think you're like him at all", he suddenly blurts out, making you look up at him with wide eyes. "Like your dad. Sirius Black."

You stiffen. "O-oh no! Sirius isn't my dad. I'm- we're cousins... I think."

"Oh..." Harry's face heats up, obviously embarrassed.

After that rather awkward encounter, every time someone tried to trip you over or bully you, he was there to stop it. Draco was obviously not happy about it and you begged him to not tell uncle Lucious.

And that's how we arrive at your fourth year. Or, actually less than a month before the new term.

"Hey, Bowtruckle, are you awake?" Draco waves his hand in front of your face, obviously annoyed that you didn't listen to whatever he was raging about.

You snap up and turn to look at him, raising one eyebrow in annoyance. "What?"

Draco rolls his eyes and points outside the carriage. A sigh leaves your lips as you see that you've arrived at the Quidditch World Cup finale. To be completely honest, you don't care that much for Quidditch. But Draco does, and Uncle Lucius cares for your public appearance, so you were forced to go.

Climbing out of the carriage, you stretch out your arms and breath in the fresh August air. Everywhere you look are wizards from all over the world, people flying and zooming around on brooms, flags waving proudly.

You trail behind the two Malfoy's as they strut up the steps, showing off their badges that Lucius got from the Minister proudly.

Suddenly, Lucius spots a familiar family of red-heads, a smirk forming on his face.

A sigh leaves your lips as he and Draco brag about having seats in the Minister's box. Your eyes lock with Harry's and a small smile forms on your face, raising your hand subtly to wave at him. He returns the gesture with an equally shy smile.

Draco seems to notice whatever's going on between Harry and you and he janks at your arm, pulling you behind him. "Keep your filthy blood traitor eyes away from my cousin, Potter", he spits in Harry's direction as he pulls you along.

Yanking your arm out of his grasp, you move along to the box and take place in the far-most corner of all the seats. Ignoring the looks both Draco and uncle Lucius give you, you stare at the stadium and see the Irish and Bulgarian teams flying around.

As the match continues, and the crowd gets rowdier, you grab a pair of binoculars and look around the stadium. Most people are boring. Here and there are a couple of interesting figures, but nothing more.

Aiming the binoculars higher, you spot the Weasely family with Harry Potter, Hermoine Granger, and two others. They are having fun by the looks of it.

"You're lucky I caught you flirting with Potter instead of father", hisses Draco in a whisper, making you roll your eyes while still peering out of the binoculars.

Glaring at him, you grumble back, "I wasn't... flirting."

He looks at you incredulously before clasping his hands together and fluttering his eyelashes.

You scoff and give his shoulder a shove. "Come off it, you twat."

As you and Draco squabble a bit louder than desired, uncle Lucious snaps his attention to you. He clears his throat and you immediately break apart, cowering under his hard glare. "What... did I say?", he spats.

"Do behave", you both mumble, looking down.

Uncle Lucius gives you one last look before turning back around, resuming conversation with some ministry person. Your cousin and you both share a glance before focusing back on the game.

The match ended with Ireland winning over Bulgaria by 170 to 160. But Draco and you don't get a chance to enjoy the festivities as uncle Lucius shoves you into a carriage.

"Why can't we stay?", you ask with a frown and produce the same puppy eyes that always work on your uncle.

Not this time, apparently. Lucius gives you a sharp look. "Because I am your uncle and I said so." Giving Draco a piercing look, he slams the carriage shut and sends it on its way.

Slumping down on the seat, you fold your arms over each other.

"You are only making things harder for yourself", muses Draco as he sits back, plucking an old Daily Prophet from the seat next to him.

You opt to ignore his remark and stare out of the window for the rest of the ride home.

Taglist: @the0doreslover

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stwritings · 1 year

Text

I've Got You

Synopsis

Eddie helps reader through a bad trip after she's pressured by her boyfriend to take drugs.

What To Expect/Warnings

This is a rather heavy topic and potentially triggering to some so please proceed with caution. ♡

This fic takes place in 87 and has no mention of the plot from Season 4, apart from Eddie graduating. Also was not expecting it to be this long lmfao, woops. No use of y/n, toxic relationship, drug use, peer pressuring, bad drug trip, anxiety, hurt/comfort, confrontation between Eddie and reader's bf, angst, mutual pining, emotional cheating if you squint??, descriptions of drug side effects, alcohol consumption.

Let me know if i missed anything.

(proofread in a very sleepy state lol, dont mind potential spelling mistakes of repetitive words/phrasings)

Once again, i can't stress this enough, please do not read this fic if any of the above mentioned topics are triggering to you. ♡

You can read pt. 2 here!

"This year's different. This year, is my year. I can feel it... '86 baby!"

And that, it was.

Things finally seemed to be taking a turn for the better in Eddie's life. That year, he geared down and put all of his time and focus into his school work determined not to spend one more second in what was, in his opinion, the most dreadful place in town; Hawkins High. Graduation day finally came and as promised to his fellow Hellfire Club members, who all attended the ceremony, he gave the performance of a lifetime on that stage. 'They can't get me in trouble anymore.' he thought as he shredded an air guitar whilst sprinting towards the faculty, hollering as he did so. Once he was face to face with his long time nemesis, Principal Higgins, all of the cleverly thought out disses he had come up with over the last year seemed to fade away. He blamed it on nerves, but deep down he knew that his distain was overshadowed by an immense sense of joy and relief. To everyone's surprise, Eddie calmly grabbed his diploma with a mischievous smile and exited the auditorium gracefully.

'Finally, a new chapter can begin.'

After some much needed time off in the summer allowed him to contemplate his next move in life, Eddie started applying for jobs around Hawkins. His preferred establishments such as the library and record store were, unfortunately, not hiring. Despite the tried and true efforts of his friends at Family Video, they too, were not in need of new employees. He contemplated sticking to his main source of income, but knew that the drug market in Hawkins was not a sustainable nor stable option. Truth be told, he only started dealing as a way of making extra cash whilst still in school. He grew tired of it pretty quickly, but promised himself that the second he would graduate, he would ditch this unconventional side hustle.

His new objective was finding work that would allow him to make enough money to find a place of his own. As much as he loved Wayne and was forever grateful to his uncle for taking him in, he couldn't stand to see him spend one more night on the dreadful pull out mattress.

After weeks of grueling efforts on Eddie's behalf, Wayne came home with some good news one Saturday afternoon. With a hiring flyer and about 8 bags of groceries in hand, he nearly kicked the trailer door down from excitement. "Eddie! Boy, you home?"

Eddie quickly shuffled out of his bedroom to see what the commotion was about. Noting his uncle's erratic breathing and bulging eyes, he was quick to grab the grocery bags out of his hands to allow him to catch his breath.

"Everything okay?" he asked cautiously, unsure what had his normally calm uncle so frazzled.

Wayne waved the flyer into the air and let out a series of chuckles. "More than okay, look what they had hangin' on the wall near the checkout at the supermarket!"

As Eddie turned to face the piece of paper in his uncle's hand, a grimace started to form on his face when he processed the words written on it. "Ah man, i don't know. I'm not really skilled in the art of packing groceries..."

"Come on now, son. You already know the basics, where do the eggs go?"

Eddie stared blankly at his uncle while blinking slowly. Wayne blinked back at Eddie theatricality while motioning for a response.

"Uh, in the bag...?"

"Where in the bag, boy?" his uncle persisted, his once excited tone now slightly annoyed.

"Maybe on top so they don't get broken...?"

"See! It's common knowledge. You could also stock shelves or somethin if you don't wanna pack the bags!"

"Yeah, it's worth a shot, i could use the money..."

Come to find out, the supermarket was in dire need of staff members, and Eddie got the job that same day. Given that the entire store was understaffed, he was able to snag his preferred position of stocking shelves. The uniforms weren't great, and having to hear the same tunes everyday was somewhat unbearable, but the money was good so he couldn't complain.

A few weeks into his new employment, Eddie was introduced to the newest addition to the team. Given that she was also put in the stocking department, they spent much of their time working together and got along great. They would often joke around together, their sense of humor practically identical. Along with her kind and rambunctious personality, they also shared common interests such as reading and music. She was the perfect girl, he thought.

Upon getting to know one another, Eddie quickly learned, much to his dismay, that she had recently moved to Hawkins with her boyfriend so he could be closer to his family.

Needless to say, Eddie's love life was never something he had the opportunity or desire to explore whilst in school. The lack of female attention and constant bullying made it difficult for him to find anyone he wanted to get to know in a romantic way. He was rather disappointed to find out that his latest love interest was already spoken for, but quickly accepted it as such.

This minor disappointment didn't stop them from blossoming a wholesome friendship over the course of the next few months. Their normal 7 hour work days always seemed so short, and Eddie was longing to spend more time with his new friend outside of their place of work. Unfortunately, the fear of rejection, accompanied by the constant sense of exclusion he had faced in his prior years had really taken a toll on his confidence, preventing him from ever seeking out friendships outside of his circle of friends.

Those thoughts and worries were momentarily silenced one Friday morning when, to his pleasant surprise, she enquired about his plans for the weekend. This wasn't unusual, they often spoke of their upcoming outings, but typically Eddie was the one to initiate this topic of conversation in hopes that she would suggest hanging out. The idea of potentially spending time together outside of work was thrilling, so he tried his best to play it cool. "A whole lotta nothing, how about you?"

"My boyfriend's colleagues invited him out to this party but i don't really want to go..."

"So you're hoping a conflict arises preventing you from attending this social obligation?" he quipped while smiling.

"Actually, i was hoping maybe you know the person hosting the party and wouldn't mind attending? It'd be nice to see a familiar face there when my boyfriend inevitably ditches me."

Her eyes met the floor as she spoke her last sentence, an action that didn't go unnoticed. The topic of her significant other wasn't mentioned often, in fact, most times Eddie forget she even had a boyfriend. Of the times he was passively mentioned in conversation, Eddie got the impression that he wasn't the nicest person and that she wasn't entirely happy with him. He tried his best to set aside those thoughts, thinking they were definitely biased and he might be reading too much into the situation.

"Does this mysterious party host have a name?" he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Tom Silverman i think, have you heard of him?" she asked, hope radiating from her eyes.

"As luck would have it, he's friends with my buddy Gareth! I could probably make an appearance." he teased.

"Yeah? Think you could make time in your busy schedule for me?" she reciprocated.

"For you? Anything."

The drive back to her place felt like a blur. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of her earlier interaction with Eddie paired with the excitement of spending time with him later at the party. She loved her boyfriend, she really did, but...

She couldn't bring herself to say it, let alone think it. The reality was, he didn't treat her the way she wanted to be treated. Hell, the way she deserved to be treated. Prior to them moving to Hawkins, Samuel had cheated on her for months on end with a close friend of hers. The betrayal was unforgivable, at least, that's what she thought at the time. Samuel had a way of getting into her head, planting ideas of his own and spinning the truth in ways that would make her question everything.

Following the infidelity, he had managed to convince her that the best way to make amends and save their relationship would be to move away from their hometown. Far from all distractions so they could focus on rebuilding what was broken. This was far from what she wanted, now more than ever since meeting Eddie. He was always so kind to her, a luxury far too often stripped away in her current relationship with Samuel. She loved how she felt when she was around Eddie, even in their strictly platonic relationship.

The hypocrisy of the situation made her want to melt away into a big pile of nothingness. She could feel herself growing fonder of Eddie with each passing interaction, no matter how mundane they were. Something as simple as Eddie asking her about her weekend, or when her birthday was, warmed her heart. Did Samuel even care to remember? He forgot about it last year.

Guilt was eating away at her the more her feelings grew. She would never cheat on Samuel, knowing all too well how heart wrenching of an experience that is to go though. Despite that, she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of infidelity as she felt her feelings for Eddie become more prominent and the distance between her and her partner growing. It wasn't all her fault of course, she suspected Samuel was still up to no good whenever the phone would ring at odd times throughout the night and he'd shoot out of bed to answer it. She knew interrogating him was no use, so she kept mental notes of all the occurrences, in hopes of one day working up the courage to leave him.

Apart from him persuading her into staying, there was also the web of lies she felt she had to uphold to avoid judgement from her loved ones, Eddie included. She felt awful lying to him about the reason for her move, but at the time, thought it was necessary for some sense of self-preservation.

As she pulled into her apartment complex, her racing thoughts came to a halt. She put the car in park, let out a sigh and made her way into the building. Once inside, she was met with none other than Samuel, already plastered at 4:48pm, the party wasn't until 9pm. This would make for a long grueling night. She quietly greeted him before excusing herself to go freshen up.

Samuel's work friends arrived shortly after she got into the shower, the sudden ruckus alerting her of their presence. She hurried out of the shower so to not hog the bathroom for too long and tried sneaking into their shared bedroom without alerting the group. Her efforts were overshadowed by a distasteful comment made from one of the men. She wasn't sure what bothered her more, the unsolicited remark about her body from a complete stranger, or the fact that her boyfriend, the man who was supposed to look out for her, laughed and entertained such disrespectful banter.

The frustration made tears well up in her eye as she quickly shut the bedroom door and locked it, hoping she wouldn't have to face the men for a few more hours until they had to leave. All the while, the only thing keeping her sane was the prospect of seeing Eddie later.

Eddie was a bundle of nerves from the moment he clocked out of work until he pulled up to the party with Gareth. Six pack in hand, he nervously made his way towards the front door before being stopped by his companion.

"Hey man, there's nothing to be nervous about, alright? If you wanna leave at any point, just let me know."

Gareth's reassuring words did little to alleviate Eddie's stress, but it was still nice for him to know that he had support tonight. With that in mind, he gave his friend an anxious smile and they let themselves into party.

Upon first glance, the party was lively and everyone was having a great time. The pair made their way towards the kitchen to put their beer in the fridge, then made an attempt at finding the host to greet him. Eddie had never met Tom, but had heard good things about him through their mutual friend. Whilst on the hunt for him, Eddie's eyes made contact with a sad looking girl sitting alone on a dingy sofa in the back of the living room, red solo cup in hand. He excused himself from Gareth and quickly made his way over to his friend. The moment their eyes locked, excitement was riddled on her face. She jumped off the couch and embraced him in what was arguably the best hug he had ever received.

"You came!!" she exclaimed, visibly intoxicated.

"I'm a man of my word." he said in a playful tone, placing a hand on his heart.

She playfully shoved his shoulder while taking a sip from her drink, giggling the entire time.

"So uh, where's your boyfriend? Am i finally gonna meet the man of the hour?" Eddie's tone was less than enthusiastic, through no fault of his own. Luckily she was too drunk to notice.

"Well," she began, "as presumed, i have been abandoned. Yet again!" although she tried covering it up with a laughter, her eyes gave away her true emotion.

"Well," he said mimicking her tone, "i am more than happy to entertain you until he gets back."

He could have sworn he saw a faint tint of pink painted on her cheeks for a moment. A tender smile was shared between the two before he was abruptly shoved by an unknown subject who was quick to wrap an arm around her.

"Oh sorry man" the lack of sympathy along with his cocky grin gave away the man's identity.

Samuel.

"Don't sweat it, man." Eddie retorted, annoyance prevalent on his face.

She gave Eddie an apologetic look before introducing the two. Her boyfriend quickly brushed off the pleasantries and turned his attention back to his girlfriend.

"Where have you been babe?" he slurred, his hold on her arm becoming increasingly tighter. Her discomfort was clear and as Eddie was about to intervene, she calmly lifted his arm off of her while stating: "Waiting for you, babe." her tone replicating the one Eddie had adopted moments ago.

Samuel grew annoyed, muttering something under his breath before once again, disappearing into the crowd.

"He seems friendly." Eddie stated in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry about him, he's... not the best at introductions."

"No kidding..."

Moments passed without further dialogue, Eddie debated mentioning his concerns but felt it wasn't his place. I mean really, how would he even put into words what he was thinking? 'Hey, you know that douchebag boyfriend of yours? Yeah, he doesn't deserve you'.

"Well," she broke the silence, "I better go check on him, will you stay a while?"

"As long as you need me" he responded.

She shot him a warm smile before venturing into the crowd to find Samuel. Eddie waited until she was outside of his line of vision before letting his smile falter. He quickly ushered to the fridge to grab a can of beer to calm his nerves. The rush of euphoria from seeing her accompanied with the displeasure of meeting Samuel left him feeling very disgruntled. He was zoned out, sipping the beer in his hands relentlessly, when he felt a hand tap him on the bicep. Turning his attention towards the person to his right, he was met with a familiar face.

"Hey, you alright?" Gareth asked, concern prevalent in his tone.

"Nah man, wanna go have a smoke?"

The initial effects of the alcohol she had consumed in an attempt to numb herself seemed to have faded away quickly following Samuel and Eddie's interaction. As much as she wanted to spend the night with Eddie and let her boyfriend mingle on his own, she felt obligated to go looking for him. The party wasn't held at a mansion by any means, but it certainly wasn't a small house. After searching for what seemed like 25 minutes, she finally found Samuel along with a few of his friends in a bedroom in the basement. Upon entering, the first thing she noticed was a dark green colored table with small plastic bags on it, filled with what looked to be pills. She was quickly ushered into the room and prompted to lock the door before being urged to sit down.

"Sam, what are you doing-"

"Babe, baby, hi!" his tone was drastically different from their previous encounter. He seemed much more erratic and his pupils were blown out.

"Are you okay? I've been looking for you-"

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I'm great baby. How are you?"

His frantic eyes and antsy demeanor, accompanied by the unknown substance beside him gave her all the context she needed: He was high. She contemplated her next move, being careful not to upset him.

"I'm fine," she started, "actually, i'm a little tired, i think i'm ready to go home." She knew little could be done to grant her wishes at this point given that she had had far too much to drink to operate a vehicle and Samuel was much less equipt to in this state.

"What... Really? No baby, the night's just starting. You're not having fun?" She was getting ready to answer before being abruptly cut off, his question apparently rhetorical. "I know what will help. Have this." He grabbed her hand and placed one of the chalky pills in her palm.

"I'm not doing drugs, Sam." she said firmly.

"Do you trust me?"

She paused, knowing this was a trap. This wasn't the first time he'd used this tactic to get her to do something she didn't want to. Her delay in responding seemed to aggravate him and he was quick to snap at her.

"Fine, go home then. I just wanted to have a nice time with you tonight. S'what i get for trying." He began shifting his body away from her, turning his attention back to the group.

Through no fault of her own, it had been hard-wired into her brain that in order to avoid an argument and mental torture for the next week, it was easier to agree with whatever he was saying.

"No, no! It's just..."

"You're scared?" his friend said while snickering.

"I've just never done this before..." she replied looking away so no one could see her anxiety ridden expression.

Samuel cupped her face with his hands, an act of intimacy he hadn't shown in years. She melted into his touch, craving to feel a sense of worthiness. "Baby, you'll be fine. I took it and feel amazing. We'll feel amazing together and i'll take care of you if you don't feel good. I promise."

Samuel had often made promises he couldn't keep, and although the little voice in the back of her mind was screaming for her to walk away, she fell victim to his manipulation once again. They exchanged a few promising words to one another before she swallowed the small narcotic, internally comforting herself: 'What's the worst that could happen?'

Following a much needed cigarette break and pep talk from Gareth, Eddie composed himself and entered the house once again. Once inside, he scanned the room in an attempt to spot out his friend, but was unsuccessful. He figured she might be using the restroom or mingling with people around the house and decided to enjoy his second and final beer of the night with Gareth.

20 minutes had passed since she took the unknown substance from her boyfriend, and up until this point, she had convinced herself that she probably wouldn't feel it, or that if she did, it would feel the same as marijuana. But oh, she was wrong. So very wrong. She noticed her heart began to beat faster and her palms were significantly more damp than before. She felt this overwhelming sense of anxiety wash over her and her ears began to ring. Still sat next to Samuel, she grabbed ahold of his arm in a subtle attempt at getting his attention. Whether he was too high to notice or purposely ignoring her, he had no reaction to her touch. Initially feeling embarrassment, she put that feeling aside and decided to vocalize her distress.

"Baby, i don't feel good, m'heart's beating really fast and-" words kept spilling out of her mouth at a much faster rate than she normally spoke. The chatter in the room never faltered, the noise adding fuel to the fire, making her anxiety worsen. Samuel eventually cut her off, insisting on the fact that she was fine. His invalidation floored her feeling of distress, her heartbeat increasing in speed. She could now hear it in her ears. "I don't like this baby, i wanna go home. Please, can we go home." she pleaded, tears starting to form in her eyes.

Samuel grew annoyed with her, his high being compromised by his girlfriend's distress. He offered to take her to a different room, away from all the noise and she agreed, the commotion from the room she was currently in proving to be too much. Luckily for her, there was an additional guest room in the basement, one that was currently vacant. The prospect of spending one on one time with her boyfriend, especially while in such a vulnerable state brought a great deal of comfort to her. That sense of relief was short lived as he stated that he wanted to get back to his friends, insisting on her trying to get some sleep.

Unbeknownst to her, the drug she took was a stimulate, making sleeping next to impossible. Information that Samuel conveniently didn't mention for his own benefit.

He tucked her into bed and promised that if she called out for him he'd be there within seconds. With a kiss goodnight and more reassuring words, he shut the light, closed the door and headed back to the adjacent bedroom to continue his antics. She was left with her wandering anxious thoughts, but tried her best to fall asleep.

After a short while, her attempts were unsuccessful and her anxiety worsened. She tried to calm herself down to no avail and resorted to calling for her boyfriend. No answer. She tried once more, this time a little louder. Still nothing. Time seemed to escape her. She wasn't sure if an hour or 5 minutes had passed. All she knew was that she had been calling for him for what seemed like forever, to no avail. The most hurtful part of it all was overhearing him talking and laughing with his friends in the adjacent room. Surely if she could hear him, he could hear her? Perhaps he was choosing to ignore he cries for help. The idea of getting out of bed to venture into the other room was far too overwhelming in this state, so she settled into bed, holding onto the sheets tightly and hoped that he would come check up on her soon.

With almost an hour having passed since he had last seen her, Eddie grew concerned. He figured with the amount of time that had passed, it wasn't unreasonable to ask the other party goers if they had seen her.

His efforts, although valiant, were unsuccessful. Once he established that she wasn't on the main floor, he decided to wander around the house in hopes of running into her. When he overheard Samuel and a group of men cackling in the basement, he made his way down the stairs.

Once he reached to bottom of steps, he noticed a source of light coming from a closed door, the secondary living room he was now standing in vacant and dark. 'Mystery solved.' he thought, she must be in there with Samuel and his friends. As he started up the stairs again, he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a faint voice coming from the back of the basement. He slowly made his way towards the unlit room and placed an ear against the closed door. That's when he heard it again, only this time, he recognized her voice, calling out for her boyfriend.

Eddie wasted no time opening the door, only to find her laying in bed in the dark. He carefully made his was towards her, crouching down to her level.

"Hey, hey. It's Eddie. Are you okay?" he gently asked. The only response heard was a series of whimpers. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, his heart broke. The light from the living room that leaked into the guest room reflected off of her tear stained cheeks and puffy eyelids; she had been crying for quite some time. Eddie wasn't an expert on body language, but judging from her tight grip on the bed sheets and her limbs curled into the fetal position, he could tell she was scared.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, you're safe. I promise. Do you need water? I'll get you anything you need, just tell me..." he stopped himself from uttering anything else, worried he would overwhelm her with questions. After pausing for a moment, he swallowed his pride before asking: "Do you need me to get Samuel?"

She let out a soft cry, her grip on the bed sheets tightening. The mere mention of his name reminded her of the betrayal she felt. He promised he would look after her, but didn't. Instead, he left her in such a vulnerable state, a state she never wanted to be in in the first place.

In her best attempt at composing herself, she was able to mutter out a sentence before her breathe hitched again: "I wanna go home, please." she buried her face in the covers as her body shook, a combination of crying excessively and the drug shaking her form. She was so cold, no amount of heat from the blankets seemed to help.

"Okay, okay, i'll get you home. Just... One minute. I'll be right back, i promise."

Eddie carefully got up and exited to room, gently shutting the door. He made his was towards the room Samuel was in, politeness the last thing on his mind as he barged in. He glanced around the room, noticing the drugs littered across the table, then met Samuel's gaze.

"Are you aware that your girlfriend is crying her eyes out 10 feet away from you?" he spat, shooting daggers at him.

There was a moment of silence, followed by snickering from a few of the men in the room. One of them who, Eddie could only assume was a friend of Samuel's spoke up. "Jesus, what a buzz kill, you owe me for that pill, Sam."

It all clicked. Eddie's vision blurred in what could only be described as a cloud of fury. The echo's of their laughter only fueled his rage as he started putting together what had happened. With every ounce of restraint he could muster, he gave Samuel once last death glare before storming out, being mindful not to slam the door to prevent startling her in the other room.

Slowly opening the door, he tried to come up with the best plan on how to proceed. The two beers he had drank over the last 2 1/2 hours were in no way enough to inebriate him and he knew she needed to be taken home. Once again crouched down by the bedside, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and began speaking softly.

"Hey, it's Eddie. I can take you home, just need to know your address."

Her crying had subsided but she was shivering and grinding her teeth uncontrollably, a side effect Eddie recognized from whatever drug she had taken. Her lack of response prompted him to try again, this time in a much softer tone.

"Sweetheart, i'll take you home just please, i don't know where you live. Do you have your house keys? Where do you and Samuel live?"

The whimpers that left her lips broke his heart. Eddie figured if he couldn't get an answer out of her in this environment, maybe removing the stress factor would help.

"Okay, can you stand up for me? Here, let's get you up"

As he began helping her from the bed, her sudden exclamation startled him. "No! Please, m'really cold. I need a blanket." Distress painted across her face as she wrapped her arms around her frame, Eddie pondered what the best option would be. After a few seconds, he figured Gareth could deal with the repercussion of his next action later.

"Okay, come on, i've got you." he said as he gently wrapped the giant comforter around her shoulders, guiding her out of the room.

Once they arrived at the base of the steps, he grabbed the excess blanket that was previously dragging along the floor to prevent her from tripping. She was unsteady from the drug, her legs felt like they were made of jelly. Eddie helped her up the stairs, supporting the majority of her weight. Once they reached the main floor, he directed her towards the sofa she was sitting on earlier in the evening and helped her down onto the soft cushion.

"Wait right here." he said in a caring voice. As he began getting up from his crouched position, he felt a cold, damp hand grabbing his.

"Wait, wait, where are you going?" her voice was low but filled with worry. He turned to her, finally getting a good look at her face since being in the dark basement and his heart sank. He tried his best not to show any signs of concern, but this proved to be challenging. Her normally light hazel eyes were almost completely black. Her hair was disheveled and her face slightly puffy from crying.

Eddie had been around plenty of people under the influence before, but never anyone he felt such deep adoration for. It was torture seeing her like this. He once again crouched down so he could meet her eye level and gave her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze. "I've just gotta find Gareth to let him know i'm leaving. I drove him here, don't want him to be stranded. I'll be right back, i promise."

Her gaze softened a bit, and with a small nod, Eddie took that as a go ahead to proceed with his plan. He lifted her hand up to his mouth to give it a quick kiss before getting up to find his friend.

Luckily, with one quick sweep of the main floor, he was able to find Gareth and get him up to speed on the situation.

"What a prick, we should fight that guy."

"Yeah, normally i would agree but i gotta get her outta here. Are you cool finding a ride home tonight?"

"Oh ya, don't sweat it! I can always just crash here if it comes down to it. Get her home safe."

"Thanks man, i'll see you later."

Gareth patted him on the shoulder and with that, Eddie made his way back to the sofa. "Alright, let's get you home, yeah? Up you go."

Taking the same precautionary steps he did while going up the stairs, they made their way out the door to Eddie's van. He helped her into the passenger's side, carefully closing the door and hurried over to the driver's side. Once in, he buckled both of their seatbelts, started the car and began driving away. Once the car was nicely heated and her shivering had subsided, he figured it would be a good time to try to find out the location he should be driving to.

"So uh, am i going the right way? Do you live close by?"

He glanced over at her, smiling sweetly once they made eye contact. She returned the smile, but the sadness displayed on the rest of her features made her true feelings apparent.

"We're far" she mumbled, "i live next to work..."

Eddie sighed internally. He didn't mind the drive, he was more concerned about her having to sit in a car for 45 minutes. "Alright, i'll get us to work and you can tell me where to go from there, yeah? You have your house keys?"

She paused to think and let out a defeated breath upon realizing; their shared house key was kept on Samuel's lanyard. She brought her hands to her face in despair and began apologizing profusely. Eddie wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for, or to who even. He softly put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, gently moving his thumb over the blanket that was still draped over her.

"It's okay, look we're not that far from Tom's place. I'll turn the car around and we can get the key. I can go in, you don't even have to leave the car-"

She shook her head in quick motions, her hands dropping from her face suddenly. "No, i can't, i'm..." she trailed off, turning to face the passenger's window.

The silence was broken by small cries leaving her mouth. Eddie slowly pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park so he could focus all of his attention on helping her as best as he could.

"Are you worried he'll be upset?" he began, trying to get to the root of the problem. His question was met with more tears falling from her eyes. Her breathing was becoming more erratic and her hands began to shake. Eddie was torn, he knew she desperately needed to get home, but at what cost? He couldn't live with himself knowing that once he dropped her off, she would be left alone to face that jerk again. He made a snap decision, once again choosing to deal with the potential consequences in the morning.

"Alright, let's go to my place for now. It's not that far from here and we can figure out what to do from there, yeah? Is that okay?"

In an unexpected turn of events, her crying stopped almost immediately following his words. "Can i please stay there tonight?" she muttered softly, eyes glued to the floor of his van.

She knew it might be asking too much, but the thought of facing her boyfriend tonight was too much to handle. Eddie's eyes widened, but he quickly composed himself before responding. "Of course, anything you need."

Obeying the rules of the road was out of character for Eddie, especially when it came to speeding, but tonight was different. He made sure to make the drive to his trailer as peaceful as possible for her, not wanting to worsen her distress.

Once there, he was relieved to see Wayne's truck was gone. At least she wouldn't have to worry about his uncle seeing her in this state.

He quickly hurried her inside and onto the sofa before scrambling around the trailer gathering anything he deemed might be of use. He came back into the living room with additional blankets, a glass of water and a can of soda from the fridge, setting them down on the table. He proposed switching out the blanket for a fresh one, doubting the cleanliness of the one currently wrapped around her.

"S'too cold." she slurred, grinding her teeth once again.

Eddie knew better than to try to rationalize with her so he thought of a solution that would make for the blanket swap to be more pleasant. He grabbed one of the blankets, walked over to the dryer and tossed it in. Making his way back to the living room, he picked up the can of soda to open it and slid closer to her on the table. "Here, have a sip, you must be really thirsty."

Up until he mentioned it, she hadn't noticed how dry her mouth was, or how chapped her lips felt. Now that she was in a comfortable place and felt safe, the fear and adrenaline wearing off, she was very aware of the physical discomforts she was feeling. She quickly grabbed the cup of water, opting for the least cold drink made available and downed the liquid within seconds. Eddie's eyebrows raised and he let out a small chuckle. She met his gaze with a shy smile, clearly embarrassed by the intensity of her gulps. Their exchange of grins was interrupted by a shrill ringing coming from the hallway; the dryer alerting them of it's cycle being complete. Eddie shuffled over to it, quickly returning to the living room with the warmed up blanket.

"Here, feel this." he started, placing a corner of the fluffy material in her hands "Nice and warm for ya. How about we get rid of that dingy old thing?" he said gesturing to the stain riddled comforter.

She agreed with a nod, preparing herself for the sharp cold she would feel once the blanket was no longer on her. Eddie attempted to make the switch as seamless as possible, quickly wrapping the fabric around her. Once the warm blanket was snug around her, Eddie lightly tugged on either side in a playful motion. Their faces were mere inches from one another, he wished they could stay this close forever.

"Better?" he inquired in a soothing voice.

She nodded in response. "Thank you."

He stayed crouched in front of her, his hands remaining on the blanket for longer than he probably should have. He scolded himself internally, before retreating onto the adjacent chair. She instantly missed his presence.

It was fairly late at this point, the clock reading 1:04am. Eddie knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep while the drug was still in her system, but offered to set her up in his bedroom, reassuring her that he would take the pull out bed, not wanting to cross any boundaries or make her uncomfortable. She pondered for a few moments before agreeing. They walked over to the back of the trailer, Eddie leading the way with the extra blankets in hand. He breached the entryway of his bedroom and thanked his past self for tidying up the mess that was littering his bedroom floor earlier in the day.

Once there, she took in her surroundings admiring all the art and little trinkets laying around. Eddie grew nervous from the extended period of silence and cleared his throat before saying "Is this okay?" referring to her sleeping arrangement for the night.

"S'cozy." she responded with a warm smile. She made her way towards the bed and plopped down rather sloppily, her legs still feeling like they could give away at any second. She settled into bed and he began turning off the lamps, pausing before switching off the last one.

"Want this one on?"

"Yes please" she responded quietly from under the blankets. She had the soft material pulled up to her nose and was laying on her side watching him maneuver around the room.

"You got it" he said, a dorky smile painted on his face as he turned to look at her. Despite still appearing strung out, Eddie was enamored by her. He always thought she was beautiful, her current state never wavered that. He thought she looked especially adorable all tucked into his bed, her eyes glistening with gratitude and what appeared to be admiration. She closed her eyes for a brief moment letting out a content sigh, the feeling of safety and comfort engulfing her like a warm hug.

Eddie took this as a sign he should retreat to the living room, making sure to wish her goodnight, as well as reassuring her that she could call for him at any point in time if she needed anything. Although she had been let down earlier by a similar unkept promise, she knew Eddie meant every word he said.

Once in the living room, Eddie opted to sit on the sofa for a while to ensure that if she did call out for him, he would be awake and ready to help. He turned on the television in hopes of keeping his mind busy, his thoughts currently consumed with the image of her in his bed. He despised his heart for making him feel so fondly of someone who was in a relationship, albeit an unhealthy one. Was it so wrong for him to hope that she would leave him? The rage he felt accompanied by sorrow for the way she was treated tonight was overbearing. With a grunt, he stood up from his seat and made his way to the refrigerator in hopes that there would be a cold beer stashed somewhere in there. Wayne wasn't opposed to him drinking his supply, so long as he replaced what was taken. Behind the milk carton were two cans of Pabs Blue Ribbon. He grabbed one of the cans and headed back to the sofa, making sure to open it slowly to minimize the noise from the aluminum cracking.

The second Eddie had left the bedroom, the feeling of anxiety she had previously felt slowly crept it's way back into her core. She shook her leg in an attempt at self-soothing, trying her best to remind herself that she was safe now. She knew that she could call for Eddie at any point and that he would be back in the room within seconds, but the feeling of embarrassment and fear of bothering him prevented her from doing so. She tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep without success. Out of frustration she sat up from the bed, the blanket still wrapped over her head in a cocoon shape. She began looking around the room once more, admiring the posters on his wall. His bedroom was exactly as she had pictured it to be. Having only seem him in their work uniform up until tonight, his haircut and ringed fingers had given her a pretty good idea of what his style would be; his bedroom reflecting that perfectly.

His bedroom was quaint and felt like home. A feeling she hadn't felt in years since being with Samuel.

Samuel.

The mere thought of him sent a cold shudder through her that shook her form. She worried about his reaction to her not being home once he arrived at their apartment. He always accused her of infidelity, likely projecting onto her his own bad behavior, and would surely lash out at her the next time he saw her. She began to spiral, images of past mistreatments and abuse at the hand of her partner crashed into her like a violent wave. Tears streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably, as they had many times before.

She had spent many nights crying into a towel in the bathroom alone so she wouldn't wake him with the sound of her whimpers, as he laid in their shared bed without a care in the world. He lacked the ability to comfort her, expressing it many times, usually by saying: "i don't know what you want from me". In those moments a simple reassuring hug would have sufficed, or any act of compassion or intimacy, but he didn't care. Not then, and certainly not now. This sudden realization was all too much for her to handle in this moment.

She desperately needed comfort. She attempted to compose herself before slowly creeping out of bed and pausing at the ajar door. Part of her knew it was wrong, but the desperate need for consoling overshadowed the morality of her decision. In a barely audible tone, she called Eddie's name and waited nervously inches from the door. Almost instantly, she heard him getting up from the sofa and walk hurriedly to the back of the trailer. The door opened quickly startling her and Eddie let out a small yelp, not expecting to see her standing so close to the door.

"Jesus," he let out with a sigh, clutching his chest. "Sorry, ah, i thought you'd be in bed." After recovering from the small arrythmia he was almost certain he suffered, he chuckled and asked, "Everything okay?"

Upon his arrival, a sense of dread and self-loathing washed over her. She feared rejection but also reprimanding from Eddie. He knew she had a boyfriend, and had been so considerate of that all night, was she really about to ask him if he could sleep in the same bed? It wasn't in a sexual way, but somehow the lather felt worse. Seeking emotional intimacy from someone other than the person she was dating? She felt despicable. The worse form of betrayal in her mind was emotional infidelity, which is exactly what had been taking place over the last few months. She couldn't be blamed though, not entirely. Her absent and neglectful partner had driven her into the arms of a more caring, emotionally intelligent man and for that, he only had himself to blame.

"S'worse when you're out there. Can you stay here? Please..." she managed to mutter.

Eddie's heart skipped a beat. He would do anything she'd ask to help her feel better. "Yeah! Yeah, of course. Let me go get the extra blankets and a pillow and i'll set up on the fl-"

"Could you sleep next to me?"

Her broken tone of voice shattered him. It had become very apparent to him that her relationship was far more damaging than it appeared to be on the surface. Every question she had asked him, whilst in her most vulnerable state, had a sad undertone expecting rejection. The mention of her partner's name alone had caused her intense distress. Without letting another second go by, he sprung into action. He gently agreed and motioned towards the bed, letting her get comfortable before climbing in himself. Not wanting to cross any boundaries or make her feel uncomfortable, Eddie held off on laying down. Instead, he sat up on the bed with his back against the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible as he nonchalantly stared ahead.

She was laying on her side facing him, when he caught a glimpse of her looking up at him. He turned to face her, trying to think of any topic of conversation to hide the fact that he was screaming inside. All the feelings he had for her that he had managed to suppress all this came crashing down on him. She was the girl of his dreams, and she was laying in his bed with him. He quickly shut down those thoughts and focused on her well-being; it was his top priority. He took in her facial features, now that the blanket was no longer covering the bottom half of her face, and noticed she was grinding her teeth still. "Try and relax your jaw." he said with care.

"M'sorry"

"Don't need to apologize," he reassured laughing lightly, "just don't want you to be sore in the morning, is all."

There was a brief moment of silence as her smile grew, then a snort escaped her as she buried her face in the blanket. The innuendo now becoming apparent to Eddie who, also broke out into laughter.

"Oh god, i didn't mean it like that!" was all he managed to say, bringing his palm up to his face. His embarrassment was short-lived, her laughter filling the room was music to his ears.

"I know, s'just funny" she said between giggles.

The room went quiet again, the sound of their breathing being the only audible noise. The effects of the drug were slowly wearing off, evidence of that came from her suddenly yawning.

"Wanna try and get some rest?" he offered.

"That sounds good" she responded.

"Okay, lights on or off?"

"Off please."

"Okay," he said, making his way towards the lamp to shut it off. He excused himself to go turn off the rest of the lights, as well as the TV still playing and made his was back to the room shortly after. He carefully climbed into the bed, this time laying down but still taking up as little room as possible.

Eddie was the kind of sleeper that liked to take up as much of the bed as humanly possible, so he know he wouldn't be getting the best of sleep tonight but he didn't care. Knowing that she was safe meant more to him than a good night's rest. They wished one another goodnight and attempted to drift asleep.

A few minutes of stillness passed, she turned to face him, craving closeness and warmth. Tonight's series of events had proven that Eddie was a gentleman and certainly wasn't the type to take advantage of her or intentionally cross any boundaries. She inched slightly closer to him and whispered: "Can you hold me?"

He hummed in response extending his arms for her to settle in. She nestled into his chest, their bodies fitting perfectly with one another like a puzzle. The feeling of contempt and security she felt while in Eddie's arms was unmatched. It was as if nothing could hurt her as long as he was around. He felt her grip on his shirt tighten slightly, her body pushing onto his in an attempt to get closer. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, feels good. Safe." she replied sleepily. Eddie understood in that moment how touch starved she was. She craved intimacy in it's purest form. He readjusted his arm so he could lightly rub his fingertips on her back soothingly. She was beginning to drift asleep, but was still clenching her jaw, an action Eddie was quick to notice. With his free hand, he lightly cupped the side of her face and rubbed gentle circles on her cheek and jaw in an attempt to sooth her likely sore muscles.

"Try to relax your jaw sweetheart, unclench your teeth." he gently reminded her.

His caring instructions were met with a low hum followed by a barely audible "thank you", the tension in her face releasing almost instantaneously.

Eddie bent down slightly to give the top of her head a kiss while softly uttering: "Goodnight sweetheart.", her only response an even sleepier hum than before. In a matter of seconds, they both drifted to sleep comfortably in each others presence.

The end ♡

This is my first time posting in a while, i hope you liked it, lmk what you think! xo

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson oneshot #angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x hurt/comfort #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiic #eddie munson x female reader #st4 eddie #hurt/comfort

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shygirl4991 · 3 months

Text

True Color

Summary: SMG3 was told by eggman to kill SMG4 his ex rival, deep down he knew he couldn't bring himself to harm someone he grew close to so he comes up with a plan to trick eggman. Except SMG4 wasn’t a part of the plan, the man on the floor crying not only over his dead meme but at the fact his friend and crush was about to kill him. Will SMG3 be able to live through his fight with Eggman and finally admit his true feelings, he better cause there's no way a great villain like him will lose!

Tags: Fluff and Angst, Attempted murder, love confessions, first kiss, enemies to friends to lovers

SMG3 chuckles to himself dealing with Depresso was nothing, who knew this man was so weak to rats. As he walks outside his old friend Eggman follows, he is sure to be bowing down to the proof that Three hasn't lost his touch when it comes to evil. Eggman smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder “Congrats, SMG3! There’s only one final test before you can be called a true villain again.” Three smirks, this will be easy who said you couldn't be evil and still have your hero friends by your side.

“You must kill your arch nemesis!” He shows his phone revealing footage of his Eggdog cam. How did eggman know about the camera in Four’s room? How long has he been watching the man, he made a mistake putting that camera in his room. He only did it to make sure that nothing would happen to four, now look at what he did. He felt a chill go down his back as it now hit him, Eggman wants him to kill his ex rival. The meme guardian in charge of living memes, his friend. He looks down in shock as Eggman pats his back laughing “Can't wait to see it friend!”

Three was at his new home, sitting on his bomb chair staring at the gun in his hand. He can feel himself shaking at the thought of aiming it at SMG4, so many years of trying to kill the man and he did it all without any emotion besides anger. Things have changed so much, he remembers when he was about to die when he dropped the character he played as for so many years to finally tell SMG4 that they were friends. The day they did the heist to get his notebook back, how relaxed the two were drinking coffee when he was hit with a drawing idea and doodled the two together with coffee. Then the memory of the day everything changed for him, when him and Four held hands learning about their power and about zero.

He points the gun at the picture of SMG4 shaking and fires, the moment he pulls the trigger he focuses on his old anger bringing his old character out. “Finally I have a reason to kill that bozo!” He focuses on the pain he felt on Christmas when SMG4 brought up old memories. He screams as he shoots down the photo of SMG4 letting out all the anger on it, he can do this he can kill that idiot. Eggdog jumps surprised at what his father did during his private bath time, barking at his meme parent annoyed as he watches the man open a chest. “Ooooo i wonder how i should kill him! Dismemberment?” he then takes out gamer bath water out of the chest “Maybe waterboarding?”

Seeing his father bringing out his old persona makes him start barking furiously at him, SMG3 freezes hearing his son's words before glaring at him “What do you mean? I don't care about SMG4, he sucks!” his mind yelled at him calling him a liar as he crossed his arms “I’ve had no character development with him.” He can't let it fall if he loses character then those feelings come back, he won't be able to impress his old friends. Eggdog had it with his father as he yelled back at him reminding him of all the nights he would gush about SMG4 to him, how he has become happier since the two became friends. It was becoming overwhelming for him as he covered his ears “La la la i can't hear you!

As he leaves his home he stares at the castle, he feels his hand shaking again “Damn it..Eggdog is right what am i doing, why am i trying to impress people from my past?” He remembers how insane SMG4 went trying to make the perfect video to please all his viewers. Three clenches his fist “Right…RIGHT! I can't impress everyone. The person I should be impressing is myself, and I find myself impressive enough!”

He needed a plan, so he walked up to the castle with gun in hand as Eggman walked up next to him “Are you ready?” Three smirks “Oh yeah, this is gonna be easy!” He was always a fast thinker he knew the moment he stepped into that castle Eggman was done for. SMG4 was humming happily as he finally learned how to hand craft memes thanks to the help of Three. SMG3 opens the door to the kitchen looking around to figure out a way out of this mess, SMG4 turns excitedly “Oh hey three!” he twitches at the nickname. He wasn't sure when the man shortened his name but everytime he hears it his heart flutters.

“I was just inventing a new meme. I call him, tomato soop and his catchphrase is gonna be BLERHG.” SMG3 stares at the meme as Four was showing it off, the idiot has so much trust in him he wouldn’t see his death coming. His stomach twisted at the thought, then he blinked at the meme. A tomato that when squish color could be mistaken for blood, SMG4 finishes explaining the meme smirking at him hoping his new meme was impressing his crush “Pretty memey right?”

Three walks forward, his eyes dark as he goes over his plan in his head, on one hand a voice was telling him to do it. SMG4 hasn't done anything for him so why let him live? But that wasn't him that was the old him that he made to protect himself in a world that saw him as evil. SMG4 eyes drop down noticing the gun “Oh a glock!” he starts to get nervous “Whatcha…gonna do with that…” once SMG3 got close enough he decided what he had to do “Oh…something i should have done long ago.” He points the gun at SMG4 causing panic in the man, this couldn't be happening this isn't the SMG3 he knows why would he point a gun at him “THREE WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”

Three’s eyes flicker to the newly made meme, he had to do it to protect him, his gaze softened as he looked back at Four “I’m sorry… I have to do this.” SMG4 shakes unsure what was going on then the gun moved slightly to his left and fired, Four blinks and slowly turns to see Three had shot his newly made meme getting tomato juice all over the window. Eggman lets out an evil smile seeing the red splatter on the window, he walks into the castle laughing “Ho hoo good job. I guess I underestimated your evil intentions 3. I’m glad my old evil buddy is still-” he freezes seeing a tomato with a gunshot wound “Hey what the fuck?”

SMG3 smirks as he charges at Eggman jumping up and kicking him in the face, while he may not be as fast and flexible as his partner he still had his talents in his strength. “Sike Mother fucker!” SMG4 runs to his meme with his eyes starting to water “My tomato soup meme!” SMG3 places his hands on his hips, annoyed at his other half “DUDE! Dont ruin my epic twist! I was actually considering killing you! Like usual…” he added the last bit to make sure he wasn't showing his true emotions.

Hearing that line made Four forget about his meme as he looked at SMG3 heartbroken “You were actually going to kill me?!” that can be true could it? He felt his tears escape knowing that he would have been dead if SMG3 didn't change his mind at the last minute, what did it mean was everything they went through all for nothing? He starts crying loudly causing SMG3 to smack him, Four was startled from the hit looking at the man who was glaring at the spot Eggman was at.

Eggman gets up “I KNEW YOU DIDN'T HAVE IT IN YOU!”

SMG3 rolls his eyes “Nah i think murder isn't very evil villainy, you people should know all villains have a code. Plus PAIN AND SUFFERING IS MORE MY STYLE!” Eggman looks down at Three who had a huge shit eating grin “Pathetic,” he now knows that SMG3 was a lost cause. But he still had some hope that something would knock common sense back to Three “All villains murder!” he takes out a rocket launcher “Allow me to demonstrate!” He points the rocket to SMG3. The man only smiles at Eggman; he spent his whole life with weapons pointed at him and eldritch gods trying to kill him, an egg-shaped villain doesn't scare him.

That was until the weapon moved targets, his eyes going wide as he watched Eggman point the rocket at SMG4. He growls at Eggman as he dashes at the man moving the rocket to not hit Four, the rocket flies out hitting the roof of the castle, an old man in a bathtub falls down confusing the pair for a moment. Seeing Eggman distracted he turns and punches the man, picking up the man on the floor he smirks ready to give the man a beating for even thinking about killing SMG4.

“I DON'T NEED TO PROVE SHIT!” he was done with the world making him a villain, he won't let anyone change him again. Eggman, finally understanding his old friend is gone, decides to teach Three a lesson, calling his ride down squishing Three he launches them up in the air “Enjoy your last breath!”

The higher they went the more he was struggling to breath, his vision was getting blurring as he took deep breaths. An idea hits him as he turns trying to keep his breathing steady from the height “Why don't you go and steal the moon or something.” He starts to take apart the vehicle. SMG4 walks outside with his injured meme looking up at the sky confused, scared and nervous about what was going on. SMG3 looks down then back at what he was doing as he removes the last part causing the vehicle to malfunction. SMG3 takes one last deep breath, he was a meme guardian he will trust his power that falling from this height won't kill him. He winks at eggman before letting go and falling off, SMG4 drops his meme running around in a panic trying to guess where the man was going to land.

He dives, catching SMG3 quickly and lifts up the man checking if he is okay. SMG3 coughs trying to bring oxygen to his lungs “SMG4?” he turns and looks at the man's face “Yeah it's me, i don't know what the hell is going on but..i'm so glad you're okay..you are okay right?” Three coughs feeling his lungs burn, the world still looked blurry for him as Four did his best to make sure the man was comfy by laying him on his lap.

SMG4 starts to cry again feeling so many conflicting emotions he felt he was going to just blow from all of it, he holds Three’s hand shaking slightly “Even after everything…were you really going to kill me…do you still hate me?” Hearing the pain and sadness in Fours voice broke SMG3's character, maybe for once he can let himself show to stop his idiot from crying. Weakly he reaches for SMG4 face “No you idiot, sure it was tempting since on christmas you made a shitty comment without thinking but i could never kill you…you mean too much to me.” Four’s eyes go wide as he wipes his tears, Three coughs annoyed by the pain he feels “HEY STAY WITH ME uh er maybe i have a first aid kit for this wait for me!” He gently put Three on the floor and was going to run inside only to be stopped.

He turned to see Three grabbing his hand “Hey..Four..thank you for being my friend.” SMG4 heart flutters finally hearing Three call him by his nickname “Hey now you're not going anywhere,” he wiggles free to sprint inside getting the first aid kit. After taking care of Three they both sit together outside looking at the sky, Three was starting to feel better as he leaned on Four “I know today must have been a shit show for you, so in short I had old friends try to change me but you know what SMG4?” the man hums as he waters his meme helping it feel better.

Suddenly Three turned his face getting close, Four blushed unsure what was happening “I realized i don't need to prove to anyone how evil i am. I don't need to prove anything because I'm happy just the way I am.” SMG4 smiles softly at him leaning into his touch “heh well i'm happy your you to three, you had me scared you know i really thought i did something wrong or…you lied about being friends again.”

SMG3 frowns at the memory, he did a lot of bad in the past to think he was here at this moment with someone he used to want dead. Now the thought of anything happening to Four made him sick, it made him angry. It then clicked to him all those confusing feelings he had these past months, he was falling for his rival after everything they went through he grew to love the man in front of him. He would kill for this man, he would die for him. Four was giving a confused look to Three wondering why he was still caressing his face only for his eyes to go wide as Three leaned forward kissing him.

SMG4 felt as though his body was being electrocuted from the sparks he was feeling from the kiss, dropping the watering can he turns his body and wraps his arms around Three’s neck kissing him back. Eggman’s plan was to bring SMG3 back to the dark side but all he did was show Three just how amazing the light was, he won't ever let this go no one will ever lay a hand on his SMG4 as long as he lives.

It was the next day and SMG3 smirks as he traumatizes Steve by telling him his sandwich was made of chicken, he does his evil laugh not noticing his boyfriend was rolling his eyes “I see some things never change huh?” Four pats Three’s back only to get a smirk from the other man “Hey now scrub you say this but you wouldn't have me any other way!”

Four chuckles and nods “I wouldn't want you any other way three, now uh could i get my coffee i have been waiting here for an hour.”

“Nope, just cause you're dating me doesn't mean you can skip the line now go sit and wait or i'm going to make you wait even more!” Four signs before letting out a smirk he quickly kisses Three’s cheek making the man's face go red “WHAT THE!? THATS IT NOW YOUR NOT GETTING SHIT YOU…YOU…baka.” he lets out a soft smile before going back to work red in the face.

#smg4 #shygirl4991 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #fluff and angst #love confessions #first kiss

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

baby mine

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

author’s note: been feeling very inspired by lewis rhett lately, and also in the mood for some angst, so here is where we ended up!

warnings: angst with a happy ending, pregnancy, blood, fear of miscarriage, medical crisis, rhett attempting to pray, and a little smattering of fluff

If anyone had asked you to describe your experience of pregnancy, you would have summed it up as follows:

It was easy until it wasn’t.

Your first trimester had been a breeze. Beyond a couple of queasy mornings, quickly remedied by dry toast and some fresh air, you didn’t experience morning sickness at all. In fact, you woke up every morning more chipper than usual, to the point that Rhett often checked that you didn’t have some sort of fever. He even wondered aloud over breakfast one day if you’d been getting sick in secret, so surprised was he at your perfect health.

“Not every woman gets morning sickness, baby,” you’d laughed, running your fingers through his hair as you stood over him to refill his coffee cup.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one?” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your still-flat stomach.

You were. For a while.

As the weeks, and then months slipped by, your belly grew rounder and rounder as your pregnancy progressed, all the ultrasounds and tests coming back to show that you were carrying a perfectly healthy baby girl.

“She’s glowing, Rhett,” Cecilia often commented whenever you and your husband visited the Abbott ranch for dinner.

“I didn’t even know a pregnant lady could be that happy,” Perry added one night, chuckling as he watched you and Amy playing in the living room, Amy showing you a project she’d been working on in school. “Rebecca was miserable the entire time she was carrying Amy, I swear.”

Rhett just smiled in response, like he always did. “That’s my honeybee,” he murmured proudly, catching your eye and winking at you.

No morning sickness. No weird cravings or aversions to any of your favorite foods. No major mood swings beyond what you were already used to. No massive weight gain. It was like you were walking on a cloud.

“Better watch out, honeybee,” Rhett teased one day when the two of you drove to town to grab lunch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he bent his head to whisper in your ear. “I think Katie Hamilton’s gonna make a voodoo doll of you and poke it with pins every night before bed,” he chuckled, subtly nodding his head in the direction of one of your childhood classmates. Nemesis probably would have been a more apt description.

Lifting your eyes, you glanced across the diner, where you were standing in wait for a table, and caught sight of Katie, who was glaring daggers at you. The two of you had never really gotten along, but her look was particularly venomous today.

“What’s her problem?” you muttered, raising your eyebrows as you turned to look back at Rhett. “I haven’t done anything to her. Lately.”

Your husband just laughed, shaking his head as he smoothed one hand over your swollen belly. “That’s pure jealousy, honeybee. Because you look like a damn goddess right now, and she got fat,” he smirked. Rhett had never forgiven Katie Hamilton for all the times she’d made you cry back when you were growing up.

“Rhett,” you scolded, poking him in the side and trying to hide the way your lips were twitching in amusement.

There was a strange sense of justice in Miss Queen Bee, who’d made all the girls feel miserable about their looks throughout middle school and high school, losing some of her shine during her pregnancy.

“What?” Rhett demanded, his eyes widening innocently. He laughed at your pointed look, ducking his head to kiss you. “Sorry, baby, but it’s true. Pregnancy looks much better on you.”

Truth be told, pregnancy did suit you. And you assumed it would keep on suiting you until the time came for you to deliver your little bundle of joy.

But then your third trimester hit.

It started out innocuously enough. You tired out more easily and needed to sit down more often. Your back started to ache when you went grocery shopping with Cecilia or your mama. You found yourself getting winded when cooking and setting the table for dinner.

All of it just seemed part and parcel of growing a little human inside you.

“Honeybee, sit down,” Rhett would tell you whenever he caught you rubbing at your lower back, trying to ease the tension that seemed to be lodging itself there with increasing frequency. “I can do the dishes.”

“I can do the laundry.”

“I can run to the store.”

There was nothing your husband wasn’t willing to do for you.

But you turned him down every time.

“I’m fine, baby,” you always told him, even when you had to say it through gritted teeth to mask the discomfort. “I can do it.”

“You need to rest,” he was constantly reminding you, forcing you to take a break whenever he was able to.

“There won’t be any rest once the baby comes along. This is good practice,” you usually responded, grinning as you rested a hand atop your growing bump. At seven and a half months along, it was rather unwieldy at this point.

“You are one stubborn woman, honeybee,” Rhett sighed with a shake of his head, eyeing you carefully as you carried on with your household chores.

You were determined to continue doing just as much around the house and the ranch as you’d done before you’d gotten pregnant. You could do it. You could continue to make Rhett proud, just as you’d done in your first two trimesters.

But it was starting to seem that all your good fortune was drying up and that all the discomfort you’d avoided at the start of your pregnancy was now catching up with you in full force. Maybe Katie Hamilton really had made a voodoo doll of you, like Rhett had joked that day at the diner.

The tiredness was quickly turning to exhaustion, and the slight aches were evolving into an incessant discomfort that bordered on pain. You found yourself catching your breath all the time now, clutching your belly as cramps passed through you on a regular basis.

Every time Rhett asked if you were doing alright, however, you forced yourself to smile and told him, “Just fine, baby.”

It wasn’t that you were trying to lie to him. But you knew that he was always carrying so much. It seemed as if your husband was constantly trying to balance the weight of the world on his shoulders. Since you’d gotten pregnant, your health and the health of the baby had been at the top of his priority list. He worried all the time, even when you assured him he had no reason to. That was just Rhett, and you loved him for it. You loved him so much, in fact, that you didn’t want him worrying himself sick over something that was beyond his control—something that you were assuming was common in this stage of pregnancy, from everything you’d read and heard from others.

Today, however, didn’t feel very common. You’d been experiencing shooting pain down your back all day, to the point that you had to spend most of the afternoon curled up on the couch, whimpering miserably to yourself in an attempt just to get some of the tension out of your body. You also felt a bit nauseous and could sense a headache forming in the back of your skull.

At this point, you knew you were just being the stubborn woman Rhett affectionately accused you of being. You needed to ask for help. You needed to tell your husband how you were feeling.

By the time Rhett arrived home, however, the sun had long set and he was so exhausted that all he wanted to do was take a quick shower and fall into bed.

“Never been so damn tired before,” he mumbled, pecking you softly on the lips before tugging his shirt over his head and trudging towards the bathroom.

You would just talk to him tomorrow, you resolved, chewing on your bottom lip as you changed into a pair of pajamas and turned the covers down. That was probably a better idea anyway. In the light of day, you’d both be more well-rested and you’d be able to get in touch with your doctor.

Yeah. Tomorrow.

Rhett was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, his hair still damp from his shower, and you quickly followed suit, shifting until you managed to find a semi-comfortable position. Closing your eyes, you found yourself drifting off sooner than expected.

When you woke a few hours later, startled out of a dreamless sleep, you could feel the hair standing up on your arms and the back of your neck, a cold, uneasy feeling gnawing at your insides.

Something was wrong.

Sitting up gingerly, you sucked in a sharp breath as a fierce pain tore across your abdomen. You had to close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself, one hand resting on your belly as you attempted to swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“What is it, honeybee?” Rhett croaked from the darkness beside you, sounding only half conscious.

“Nothing,” you lied, biting down on your hand to keep from crying out as you slid off the bed. “Just have to go to the bathroom.”

Your husband simply hummed in response, already back to sleep.

Trying to quell the panic that was quickly rising up inside you, you carefully wobbled towards the bathroom, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth all the while. Maybe this was Braxton Hicks? You’d heard plenty about the “false alarm” contractions that many women faced during their pregnancies. But this didn’t feel like contractions. This felt like something much more serious.

Flicking the lights on in the bathroom, you stumbled to the counter and took in your bleary-eyed, exhausted appearance. Your face looked almost ghostly, matching the ominous shiver that suddenly passed through your body.

You clutched your stomach as another sharp pain knocked the breath out of your lungs, which sent you tottering over to the toilet. Yanking your shorts down, you took a seat and then let out a horrified gasp at the sight you were met with.

Blood.

Your underwear was soaked with bright red blood, the metallic scent of iron assaulting your nose and making you gag.

“Rhett!” you cried out, your voice tearing from your throat so violently that you were almost worried you’d damaged your vocal chords. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the awful reality staring you in the face.

Something about the tone of your voice evidently broke through the exhausted haze in which your husband had been ensnared because seconds later he was barging his way into the bathroom, looking more awake and alert than you’d ever seen him.

“Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” he demanded to know, flying to your side in an instant and crouching down beside you.

“I—I—” You couldn’t even get the words out, couldn’t bear to say them out loud. So instead, you pointed with a trembling finger, squeezing your eyes shut as tears began to roll down your cheeks. You didn’t want to look anymore.

Rhett followed the direction of your finger, gazing downward at the mess of blood coating your underwear and staining your inner thighs. His blue eyes widened and his face paled considerably, but he didn’t freak out. He didn’t jump up or start flailing or demand you tell him what to do. Instead, he reached up and cupped your face between his hands, his touch gentle yet insistent.

“Honeybee,” he said, his calm voice belying the anxiety that was currently making his heart race a million miles an hour. “Baby, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”

You did as he said, slowly opening your watery eyes and meeting his direct gaze. “Rhett, the baby…” you whimpered, a fresh wave of terror crashing over you as you caught sight of the blood once more. You could feel that it was still leaking out of you as you sat there, staining the water in the toilet a dark, violent red.

“Sh, honeybee, sh,” Rhett murmured, his voice as gentle and as soothing as it was when he was talking to a skittish horse. “Talk to me. Keep your eyes on me and talk to me. It’s gonna be alright. What happened?”

You were grateful that he was somehow managing to remain so collected and rational, considering you felt anything but. But that was Rhett. He’d experienced his own fair share of brutal injuries and had seen plenty of blood and gore between the rodeo circuit and his time on the ranch, so these sorts of things didn’t faze him the way they did other people. Your husband was the perfect person to have around in a crisis because he knew how to handle it.

You, on the other hand, did not.

“P-pain,” you sobbed out, able to keep your eyes trained on Rhett only because he was still holding your face in his grasp, his calloused thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “There was this p-pain—in my back a-and my stomach—woke me up—and when I-I got to the b-bathroom—so much b-b-blood,” you wailed, terror gripping you in its iron grasp.

The baby! What was going to happen to the baby?!

“Okay, okay, honeybee. I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here,” Rhett assured you. His voice was still calm, but you noticed a flash of raw fear in his eyes as he looked down once more. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital, alright? It’s gonna be alright.” You weren’t sure at this point if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

“Rhett! I need—I can’t—the blood!” you gasped out, clutching onto his arms.

“I know,” Rhett nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your knee. “I know. I’ll take care of it, baby. Just stay right here.” He carefully pulled your bloodied shorts and underwear down your legs, standing up and throwing them into the sink. “I’ll be right back, honeybee,” he promised, turning and hurrying out of the bathroom.

He was back in a flash, a clean pair of underwear and your favorite pair of sweatpants in hand.

“Alright, baby, where’d you put your pads?” Rhett asked, his eyes quickly scanning every available surface in the bathroom.

It had been so long since you’d needed them.

“In the closet, on the top shelf,” you told him hoarsely, your throat still clogged with tears.

If you weren’t so overwhelmed with fear, you might have been impressed by how quickly Rhett pulled down your pack of pads, tearing a couple of them open and lining your underwear with them before walking back over to you, kneeling down on the cold bathroom floor.

“Okay, baby, we’ll get these on and get you dressed and then we’ll get in the car and get you to the hospital,” Rhett told you, grasping your ankles gently as he slipped them through the openings in the fabric of your underwear.

As tender as your husband was being, you felt like you were going to be sick. “Rhett!” you cried, gripping his bare shoulders roughly. “Rhett, the baby! What if the baby—”

“Sh,” Rhett soothed, brushing your hair back from your face. “We’re not gonna think like that, baby. Let me help you up.”

It all felt like a blur. Like a terrible, horrifying blur. Rhett helped you get dressed before throwing on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans himself. You were vaguely conscious of the fact that he was grabbing towels and a blanket, murmuring softly to you, though you weren’t even registering his words.

Were you going to lose your baby? Were you miscarrying at that very moment, the blood that was seeping out of your body robbing you of the precious baby girl that you and Rhett had been so eagerly anticipating the arrival of? Your daughter? The one you had loved from the moment you knew she existed?

If you lost her, it would be your fault.

Your stubbornness. Your pride. Your refusal to admit when something was wrong.

And now something was really wrong.

If you lost her, it would be all your fault.

“Honeybee, c‘mon, I’ve got you.” Rhett’s voice cut through the misery of your thoughts as he draped a jacket around your shoulders, one hand around your waist as he led you out of the house and towards the truck. It was already running, and you could see as you approached that Rhett had laid down a few towels on the bench. “There you go,” he murmured, helping to lift you up into the bed. Once you were seated, he reached over to settle a blanket over your lap. “There you go, baby.” Closing the door, he raced over to the driver’s side and hopped into the truck, peeling off down the drive almost before he’d even pulled his seatbelt on.

You moaned softly as another wave of pain washed over you, clutching your belly and weeping softly.

“Just rest now, honeybee. Please,” Rhett begged plaintively, reaching over to rest one hand on your stomach.

“It’s my fault,” you told him, nearly incoherent with anxiety and worry. “It’s my fault. If anything happens, it’s—”

“Hey now, no talking like that,” he told you sternly, keeping his eyes fixed ahead on the road despite the fact that he wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you. “Everything’s going to be fine. It will. You and the baby are going to be fine.”

Maybe if he kept saying it enough, one of you would start to believe it.

“I should have told you,” you whimpered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gathered the blanket more tightly around you. “I should have told you.”

Rhett glanced over at you, his brow furrowed in concern. “Lay your head back and rest, honeybee. I’m gonna get you to the hospital real soon.”

The nearest hospital was well over an hour away, but with the way Rhett was driving, he managed to get you there in under forty-five minutes. You were feeling weak and exhausted by the time you arrived, so your husband lifted you into his arms, holding on tightly as he ran you inside.

“Please,” he called out, some of his calm facade cracking as he hurried to the front desk. “Please, my wife. Help my wife. She’s pregnant and she’s bleeding and she—”

Before he could even finish his jumbled explanation, a couple nurses were hurrying forward with a wheelchair, firing out directives and guiding the two of you to a room down a long hallway.

Suddenly there were doctors and nurses surrounding you, stripping you out of your clothes and laying you down in bed and poking and prodding and asking too many questions and telling you to remain calm, but all you really wanted was—

“Rhett!” you sobbed, reaching out and trying to find your husband’s hand. “Rhett!”

“I’m here, baby, I’m here!” Rhett called back. But he sounded so far away. And you couldn’t feel his hand in yours, no matter how hard you reached for him.

“Rhett!” You were hysterical now, you could feel it. Your voice felt harsh and raw as you continued to cry out, the salty tears burning your eyes and cheeks. “The baby! My baby!”

In the back of your mind, you thought you heard one of the doctors say something about sedation, but all you could think about were Rhett and the baby. They were all that mattered. They were the only ones who mattered.

Within seconds, your mind grew hazy and your eyes felt heavy, your aching body sinking into the hospital bed as your consciousness slowly floated away. Before darkness engulfed you completely, you could have sworn you heard Rhett whispering your name.

You couldn’t say with any certainty how long you were out for, but as you slowly started to come to, you could feel the early morning sunlight pressing against your eyelids, so you knew a couple hours at least must have passed. Not quite ready to open your eyes and face whatever news the doctors had to give you, you just lay there quietly, the sound of your own heartbeat rushing in your eyes.

It took a couple moments before you realized that there was a weight pressed against your side, pinning your hand to the bed. Cracking your eyes open just the tiniest fraction, you glanced down and saw that it was Rhett. He had pulled a chair up beside your bed and his head was bowed low, covering your hand and pressing against your thigh. You thought for a second that he might be asleep, but then you saw the slight shudder pass through his shoulders and heard the soft sniffle and you realized the truth.

He was crying.

Your big, strong cowboy of a husband hardly ever cried. Whenever he did, it broke your heart. You wanted nothing more than to reach down and gently stroke his hair, to offer him some comfort, but it was rather difficult to do so with your hand still caught beneath him.

And then he started talking. But you quickly realized he wasn’t talking to you, so you shut your eyes once more to give him some privacy.

“Please, God,” he rasped, lifting his head just enough so that he could take your hand between both of his own. “I know I ain’t never been much of a praying man. Not much a church-going man either. And I guess You’d be right for not listening to me now. But I’m begging You, God. Please. Please protect our baby. Please let her be okay. And please protect my wife. I love her so much, God, and if I ever lost her—my life wouldn’t mean anything if I—oh, please. Please,” he softly prayed, his head falling forward against the bed once again as he quietly sobbed.

You felt your heart splinter into a million tiny pieces as you listened to your husband’s earnest pleas and felt his tears soak into your blanket. He’d been so strong for you this whole time, but the truth was that he was just as terrified. Listening to him now, you felt yourself falling even more in love with him than ever before.

“Sh,” you murmured tenderly, squeezing his hand lightly as you slowly opened your eyes. “I’m right here. It’s okay,” you whispered.

Rhett’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice and he turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes bloodshot and heavy laden with the weight of his sorrow.

“Honeybee,” he breathed out, rising from his chair so that he could lean over you and press a soft kiss to your lips. “Oh, baby, there you are. There you are,” he whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“What happened?” you asked him in a small voice, terrified to actually know the answer.

“They had to sedate you a little bit, baby,” Rhett explained, smoothing your hair back with one hand. “You were getting real upset and they figured it would make it easier to do their exams. They ran a few tests and they’ve been monitoring you this whole time.”

“But the baby,” you said, gazing up at him with worried eyes. “What did they say about the baby?”

Was your baby going to make it?

Rhett’s expression fell slightly, which made your heart jump into your throat. “They haven’t said anything yet, honeybee. I think they’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes again. “I’m scared, Rhett,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Rhett nodded solemnly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So am I.” He ran a hand over your belly, bending his head to kiss it and then rest his cheek atop it. “Mommy and Daddy are right here, baby girl,” he whispered, his voice thick with feeling.

Swallowing the emotion that was threatening to drown you, you reached down and carded your fingers through Rhett’s hair, holding him close to you.

At that moment, the door to your room popped open and a nurse stuck her head inside. “Oh! Mrs. Abbott, you’re awake! I’ll go get the doctor,” she said, scurrying off before you could even open your mouth.

Turning to look at Rhett, you saw the fear that you had been battling all night reflected in his eyes as he lifted your hand and pressed it to his lips. He opened his mouth, as if to reassure you that it was going to be okay, but then he seemed to think better of it.

Was it going to be okay?

You didn’t think minutes had ever ticked by slower. By the time the door finally opened again, an older doctor in a white lab coat stepping into the room, you thought you were going to jump out of your skin. You must have startled slightly because Rhett rested his hand on your arm, stroking it softly in comfort.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott,” the doctor said with a kind smile. He had lines around his eyes that told you he had spent a lot of time laughing and smiling. It was a strange detail to notice at that moment, given the circumstances, but you found it oddly comforting. His smile was focused on you as he pulled up a stool and sat beside your bed, across from Rhett. “My name is Dr. Cunningham. I’m the obstetrician on call, and I’m the one who examined you when you came in.”

“I don’t really remember,” you admitted, a bit embarrassed as you shook your head slowly.

“That’s quite alright. You had quite a shock, and things were a bit hectic when you came in,” Dr. Cunningham replied gently, his voice and demeanor putting you at ease. “We felt it was best to put you under a light sedation so that we could examine you without causing any more distress,” he explained.

You felt Rhett’s fingers wrapping around yours, squeezing gently. Your free hand moved to rest atop your rounded belly, as if trying to shield your child from the doctor’s words.

“Dr. Cunningham, please tell us. Is our baby okay?” you asked, your voice cracking towards the end. Fat, hot tears began to spill forth once more, dribbling down your cheeks and spilling off your chin.

The gray-haired doctor reached out to rest a consoling hand on your arm. “Your baby is just fine. In fact, she’s perfect.”

More precious words had never been spoken. Letting out a loud sob of relief, you turned to look at Rhett, who was already up out of his seat, reaching for you. Burying your face in his neck, you wept for joy, his tears spilling into your hair as he rubbed your back with his large hands.

Dr. Cunningham tactfully sat back and allowed the two of you to take a private moment to rest in the solace of his news.

“She’s okay,” you whispered, your lips ghosting across your husband’s skin. “She’s okay.” You said it over and over again until the words took root under your skin, in your brain, in your heart.

Rhett nodded, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “She’s okay, honeybee,” he murmured in response, reaching down to rest his hand over yours, where it was still clutching your belly.

After a couple more moments, Rhett shifted and sat back in his chair, his fingers still tightly intertwined with yours. “So what happened, Dr. Cunningham? Why was she bleeding?”

Taking on a look of deep professionalism, Dr. Cunningham leaned forward and flipped open your medical chart. “It seems, Mrs. Abbott, that you were experiencing something known as placenta previa. It’s fairly rare, but women have been known to experience it in the third trimester of their pregnancies.” At yours and Rhett’s concerned looks, he hastened to explain. “Basically, the placenta was partially covering the opening in your cervix. That’s what caused the bleeding, and the pain I’m sure you were experiencing.”

“But the baby’s okay?” you questioned, suddenly doubting the validity of that statement. “I mean, there was so much blood and—”

“Your baby is fine, I promise you,” Dr. Cunningham interjected, patting your arm in a fatherly gesture. “I ran the tests myself. Fetal heartbeat is strong and vitals look good—for both of you. I know this must have been traumatic, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. That’s what’s most important. And thankfully, your case was fairly mild as far as placenta previa goes.”

“Is it life threatening?” you asked, sensing without having to look at him the way Rhett tensed up beside you.

Dr. Cunningham hesitated a moment before answering truthfully. “It can be. But like I said, your case was thankfully on the milder side. And it’s good your husband got you here as fast as he did.”

Gazing at Rhett, you reached out to cup his cheek, caressing his skin lightly with your thumb. His blue eyes were focused on you as he turned his head to brush a kiss against the palm of your hand.

“What do we need to do?” he asked, tearing his gaze away from your face to look at the doctor. “Whatever she needs. I want to make sure that the both of them stay safe,” he said, his eyes flicking down to your stomach.

“Bed rest is key,” Dr. Cunningham emphasized firmly. “I suspect pushing your body a bit too hard may have had something to do with this. So limiting all physical activity is crucial.”

“Done,” Rhett nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “She’s not gonna lift a finger, I promise.”

“That also means no sex,” Dr. Cunningham said bluntly, looking between the two of you. “From here on out, you’re going to have to refrain from any sexual activity. We don’t want to risk a placental abruption.”

Rhett nodded again, despite that bit of news being less than enthusing. “Understood,” he said firmly. “Anything to keep the baby safe.”

“I’m also going to write you a prescription for a medication to prevent early labor,” the doctor said, looking at you. At your alarmed expression, he held up his hands. “A precautionary measure, that’s all. Everything is going to be fine. So long as you take your bed rest seriously, you should be able to have a very healthy labor and delivery—at the appropriate time.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cunningham,” you murmured, your head swimming as you tried to take in all this information.

As if reading your mind, Dr. Cunningham smiled and rose from his stool. “I know that was a lot that I threw at you. I’ll give the two of you some time to talk and decompress. We’d like to keep you overnight, Mrs. Abbott, just to monitor things, but you should be good to go tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you,” Rhett said, rising as well and holding out his hand for a sturdy handshake.

“Of course,” Dr. Cunningham nodded, smiling as he stepped towards the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to call.”

As soon as he was gone, Rhett collapsed back into his chair, running his hands down his face and letting out a deep sigh. “Thank God,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Thank You, God.”

Running your hands over your belly, you were startled when you suddenly felt a swift kick to your lower abdomen.

There she was. There was your baby girl.

Lowering your head, you began to sob all over again, relief coursing through your veins.

“Aw, hey, baby,” Rhett murmured, standing up and leaning over you, brushing your tears away with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t cry. It’s all going to be okay. You heard the doctor. You and baby girl are going to be okay.”

“I know,” you nodded, sniffling. “I can feel her,” you explained, grabbing his hand and pressing it tightly across your stomach.

It took a minute, but you knew Rhett had felt her moving the second his eyes lit up and his face split into the hugest grin you’d ever seen.

“There she is,” he mumbled in awe, crouching down to kiss the spot where he’d felt her kick. “There you are, baby girl,” he said, speaking directly to her. “You gave us a quite a scare. But you’re alright. You and your mama are both alright. I love you both so much, you know that? You’re my whole world,” he told her, massaging your belly with shockingly gentle fingers.

“And you’re ours,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair.

Rhett lifted his eyes and captured your hand between both of his, peppering it with soft kisses.

“God, you had me so scared, honeybee,” he admitted, stroking your wrist with his calloused fingers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my whole life,” you confessed in return, biting down roughly on your lower lip to keep from crying again.

Rhett was quiet for a moment, just gazing at you. “Baby?” he prompted, pulling his chair closer to the head of the bed and sitting back down. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, resting your head back against your pillows.

“On the drive here—well, I know you were upset and barely thinking straight. But you kept saying you should have told me something,” Rhett explained slowly, looking into your eyes. “What was it, honeybee? What should you have told me?”

You lowered your head at his words, shame blazing through you. Dr. Cunningham had said you’d been pushing yourself too hard, which had probably contributed to this condition. Why hadn’t you just been honest with your husband? Why had you tried to keep your troubles from him?

“Baby, please. Talk to me,” Rhett begged, stroking your hand gently.

“I—I should have told you that—that I’ve been struggling these past few weeks,” you confessed, your voice tinged with guilt and regret. “I felt like everything was going so smoothly, and then as soon as my third trimester hit, everything caught up to me all at once. I was tired all the time, and sometimes I would get this terrible pain in my back. And it was hard to do all the things I normally do around the house.”

“Honeybee, why didn’t you tell me?” Rhett demanded, looking hurt that you’d kept this from him.

“I—I’m sorry that I didn’t,” you apologized in a small voice, chin trembling. “You asked so many times if I was okay and I should have just been honest with you. But…I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?” Rhett pressed, lifting your hand to his cheek. “Don’t you know you can tell me anything?”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you nodded, a few salty tears streaming out of your closed lids. “I know. I do know that. But I didn’t want to worry you. And you just—you seemed so happy, you know? So proud of the fact that everything was going so smoothly with my pregnancy. That it was so easy.” You shrugged your shoulders sadly, voicing out loud the truth that you hadn’t wanted to admit. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Rhett sucked in a breath, his eyes widening as he looked up at you. “Oh, baby,” he breathed out, practically knocking his chair backward in his haste to stand up and take your face in his hands. “Baby,” he said again, kissing you softly. “You could never disappoint me. Never. I’m so proud of you always. Did you really think I would be disappointed that you were having a hard time?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “I just—I wanted you to be happy.”

“Honeybee,” he said gently, stroking your cheek. “I’m happy when you’re happy. The only reason I was so happy that your pregnancy was so easy is because I hate watching you suffer. It had nothing to do with me being proud of you or not,” he said firmly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I’m so proud of you. So, so proud. Especially after all this.”

You started crying in earnest at his words, the floodgates of your heart opening as you let loose all the worry and anxiety and stress you’d been feeling lately. Rhett just held you and let you cry, rubbing small, soothing circles on your back.

“I love you so much, honeybee,” he whispered, resting his cheek atop your head.

“I love you, too,” you told him, burying your face in his chest.

The two of you sat together in peaceful silence for a while, the soft hum and beeps of monitors the only sounds in the room.

“I’m sorry, Rhett,” you finally said, your voice a little hoarse from all your tears. “I should have been honest with you. I put our daughter’s life at risk because of it.”

“Hey,” he murmured, shaking his head as he cupped your face in his hands. “No blaming yourself. She’s okay, and you’re okay, and that’s all that matters,” he insisted, kissing your forehead.

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you again,” you vowed, resting a hand over one of his and stroking the back of it with your thumb.

“You can always tell me everything, honeybee. Always,” Rhett promised you, lowering his forehead until it was pressed against yours.

“Everything?” you asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Everything,” he nodded.

“Okay, well in that case—I’m a little bummed that we can’t have anymore sex until after the baby comes,” you said, your eyes twinkling as your mouth curved up in amusement.

Rhett blinked a couple times in surprise, then threw his head back laughing. “There’s my honeybee,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “Truth be told, I’m a little bummed, too,” he grinned.

“You really going to hold me to that bed rest rule like you told Dr. Cunningham?” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You bet your ass I am, you stubborn woman,” Rhett shot back, arching his eyebrows pointedly.

You laughed aloud at that, poking him affectionately. “But I’m your stubborn woman.”

“That you are, honeybee,” Rhett smiled, running a finger along your wedding band as he took his seat beside you once more. “That you are.”

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #x reader #x female reader #outer range #lewis pullman

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