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dottores · 1 year

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore.

notes: wooooooo this is the start of the heavy plot and finallyyyyy getting into their relationship 😎 it’s gonna be spiral from here on out.

GENESIS

“Don’t you have better things to do than bother me.” You frowned deeply, eyes squinted as you stared at the figure who had cornered you at the women's washroom. “You go from wanting nothing to do with me, to not even letting me freshen up in peace.”

“Alas, you’ve become my job because of your reckless actions,” Dottore said, unperturbed. “I assure you, I enjoy this no more than you do.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” you replied dryly.

The empty smile that painted Dottore’s lips was now edged with a line of cruelty—he was absolutely enjoying this.

“You should be grateful,” he began, and you had a sudden feeling that you weren’t going to like what he was about to say next, “the attention you so desperately craved is finally being given to you.”

You stared at him, a turmoil of emotions eating at your insides, the most prominent of which being outrage but you forced your face to remain cold, as if you were simply dealing with one of the nasty noble kids who liked to poke fun at your lack of a soulmate.

“You will find that the attention I ‘so desperately craved’ was received elsewhere,” you responded, watching the corner of his lips tighten at your words. Digging the knife in deeper even though you probably should have left it, you continued with: “I have as much desire for your attention as I do for a bug’s.”

“Elsewhere as in that lowly aristocrat you attended our event with?” he asked, faux-curiosity dripping from his tone but you knew better. His smile promised bloodshed and violence and you were not going to throw Artem to the wolves.

“Not quite,” you said. “He still lives back in Fontaine, Artem was just a means to an end.”

Sorry, Wrio.

“Is Artem aware of that?” Dottore asked coolly—he didn’t believe you, that was unfortunate.

You’d somehow have to warn Artem to keep an eye out but you weren’t sure if you would get the chance. Moreso, you didn’t even know if it would matter. You had a feeling that even if you did warn Artem, it would do him no good. He wouldn’t be able to protect himself from the Second Harbinger.

“Careful, Doctor,” you chided. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

“Jealousy implicates caring,” Dottore didn’t hesitate to counter, lips flat and unamused, “and I do promise you that the only thing I care about is making sure you don’t get in the way of my research. Or have the past two decades of neglect not made that clear enough for you.”

You stared at him, tongue kissing the back of your teeth as you forced back another snide comment—you thought you might be testing his patience a bit too much. The hint of amusement that had crept onto his lips was long gone, replaced by an unnerving emptiness. You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you were standing, your back flush to the wall and his body mere inches from yours, head tilted down as he spoke to you.

Suddenly, the thin barrier of air between the two of you felt all the more hot. There was no way for you to slip away back to the event where you thought you might be a hint safer with all of the aristocrats’ eyes bearing witness. Worse, you didn’t even know if you wanted him to move away but you knew that you had to make him for the sake of your mission.

A shot in the dark to try to force him to take a step back, you leaned up on your toes, bringing your face closer to his. You couldn’t see his eyes beneath his mask but you imagined that you could, catching a glimmer of red as you moved in close. Your lips brushed his as you said: “I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

He stepped away.

You smiled thinly, raising your chin.

“No,” he said icily, “I am not.”

“Of course not,” you said, swiftly moving away but before you could even reach an arm’s length distance, gloved fingers curled around your wrist.

“Where are you going?” Dottore asked, you hated how he suddenly sounded amused because you knew it meant nothing good for you.

“Back to the event before my date and his family start worrying about my absence,” you said, trying to ignore how the pads of his fingers trailed across your inner wrist—you didn’t even think he noticed the instinctual motion, much less how it was throwing you off.

“I’m afraid they’ll have to continue worrying about your absence,” Dottore drawled, grip on your wrist strong and unwavering.

“And why is that?” you asked through grit teeth.

You didn’t like where this was going, you felt like a cornered animal.

“Because you will not be returning to the event, the Tsaritsa has so graciously offered you a stay in Zapolyarny Palace,” Dottore said easily as if he had not just handed you a death sentence and ripped away your dreams of avenging your father all in one. “You should be honored, not many are given such an opportunity.”

You stared at him, expression void of the turbulent emotions rushing through you. You didn’t have to be a genius to know what this meant: they were making you a political prisoner. This was a mistake. You should have seen this coming. You thought that the worst that could happen was that they would kill you, you hadn’t even considered that they could use you against your nation, your family. You despised your stepfather but he would not be the one affected by this: your mother, your half-siblings, your grandfather, Wrio and his father, they would be the ones bearing the burden of the consequences of your actions.

For all of the anger and sadness and hurt you had felt because of your soulmate, you had never hated him until now.

“Are you kidding?” you asked quietly, with at least enough control over your voice for it to not crack as you spoke. You refused to allow yourself to be humiliated because of him.

“Unfortunately, I am entirely serious,” Dottore said but he didn’t sound as if any of this was unfortunate. You thought he might even be pleased if you could catch a glimpse of his eyes beneath his mask. “Don’t look at me like that, you put yourself in this position by coming here. You must’ve known that this was a possibility.”

You didn’t respond, staring at him—speechless for the first time in a long time.

“Unless you didn’t.” He clicked his tongue as if disappointed in you. “One of my colleagues will be watching over you during your stay here. I urge you to lose your attitude with him, and with the rest, should you encounter them. You’ll find that they are not quite as patient as I am.”

“What?” you demanded, your body suddenly felt cold and your anxiety skyrocketed as if this couldn’t get any worse. “Why not you?”

“Careful,” he mocked the same tone you took on him earlier. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re desiring my attention again. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

You scoffed. “It has nothing to do with desiring your attention as it does with fearing for my life. There you go with the self-importance again. Why not you?”

“You being here has opened up a weakness that I cannot afford for the others to learn about lest they take advantage of it,” Dottore said dismissively. “I will be limiting any and all contact with you for both of our sakes’.”

“And he won’t take advantage of it?” you pressed, you could feel the panic creeping in.

Who was he passing you off to?

Wasn’t it more of a risk to pass you off to someone else than to just keep you at his side?

“Oh, he will,” Dottore answered. “Just not in the same way the others would.”

Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring at all.

You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to cry but you refused to let the tears fall. You had never felt so helpless before. You wanted to go home—you were in over your head, flailing in open water trying to find a buoy before the currents dragged you under and the one person in the world that was supposed to be a lifeline for you was standing on a boat watching you drown.

“I suppose that’s my cue,” an unfamiliar voice spoke, amused. Your gaze turned down the hall, eyes falling upon a dark-haired man dressed in black, gloved fingers intertwined in front of him as he walked closer to the two of you. “She’s quite the little spitfire, isn’t she?”

Had he been there the whole time? How had you not noticed? Were you that absorbed in your conversation with Dottore that it blinded you to your surroundings? You were usually good at picking up presences—an asset that came along with your family’s passed down hydro art.

“She will behave for you,” Dottore talked about you as if you weren’t there, but his voice was low in warning and you knew that was directed toward you.

The man hummed, as if not entirely pleased with that statement before he focused his attention on you, eyes upturned and an unfriendly smile painted on his face. “The Regrator, Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers. I will be supervising you during your stay here. I do hope you prove yourself to be useful.”

The final statement sounded more like a threat than an off-handed comment.

An anchor attached itself to your ankle, dragging you down.

Your soulmate watched as you sank in murky waters.

For some reason, Dottore just couldn’t seem to get his head on straight.

As he made his way down to the small lab he had set up in Zapolyanry Palace, all he could think about was the expression on your face as he handed you off to Pantalone. You looked at him as if he had just physically signed your death sentence—you clearly weren’t stupid, you had to know that Dottore wouldn’t do anything that he thought would put your life at risk, so he wasn’t understanding why you had looked at him like that and he didn’t like it.

He tried to focus on getting back down to the lab—Theta was down there and Dottore was sure that the segment made a mess of the experiment he had been running but he couldn’t even muster any irritation, much less anger. He could only manage a vague sense of bewilderment as he made his way down the dark halls of the palace.

You couldn’t have been that angry that he wasn’t going to be the one looking over you. You didn’t even want anything to do with him anyway, you made that very clear. It was the best course of action for the two of you—the easiest way to make sure that the bond didn’t affect either of you more than it already had. Once he figured out what you meant by ‘the Hydro Archon isn’t the only god blind to threats’, he’d get you whatever evidence you needed and send you on your way back down to Fontaine.

And then he’d never have to see you again and the two of you could go on with your lives as if this never happened.

The thought of that left him unsatisfied and again, the bewilderment that was fogging his head grew. Why did that leave him unsatisfied? It was what he wanted. He didn’t want you around dragging him down and distracting him. The Fatui was going into the most critical few years of its existence, he needed to be able to put all of his attention on his research so then why…

“I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

Dottore exhaled as your words crossed through his head again, as his lips tingled at the reminder of the feeling of yours brushing his. He knew you had done it to get him to back up, he had known what you were doing as you did it and yet, it had still caught him off guard and he wasn’t used to being caught off guard.

Was he the one unclear? Dottore didn’t think so—in fact, he thought he was perfectly clear with his expectations and needs, or lack thereof, that is. But the more he thought back to your words, your expression when you left with Pantalone, the feeling of you close to him, the more he hesitated and hesitation simply was not acceptable.

Getting to the bottom of the steps to the lowest floor of the palace, Dottore’s eyes narrowed beneath his mask as a burning smell hit his nose coming from the direction of the metal door of his lab.

Theta, Dottore thought, livid.

All thoughts of you swept away as he stalked the rest of the way down the hall, strides long and purposeful before he threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The Theta segment’s head snapped up, eyes wide like a caught deer. In his hands was one of the vials that Dottore had been studying for residue energy of the old gods, the vial burned and blackened at the bottom, creeping up to the top—a putrid scent of rot and fire filling the room.

“What did you do?” Dottore demanded.

Theta put the vial down, backing up a few steps. “It was burning when I got here,” was all he said in response. “You must’ve left it on.”

“Liar,” Dottore spat out, temper already having thinned from you having worn it down during both conversations he had with you and on top of that, his own confusion about you. He hated feeling as if he didn’t have complete autonomy over himself and your arrival in Snehznaya had absolutely destroyed any sense of control he might’ve had, questioning everything he thought he knew as true.

Reaching forward, he snatched the vial from Theta’s hands, it burned the pads of his fingers but he didn’t let it bother him, peeking inside to see if there was anything to salvage only to find all of the remains he had gotten his hands on lost.

Dottore shut his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he tried to calm himself down, convincing himself that deactivating Theta would do more harm than help. He didn’t have the materials to make a new segment and he needed all hands on deck for the upcoming project, including hands as disastrous as Theta’s.

“I specifically told you not to touch anything,” Dottore said tightly, tossing the ruined vial into the waste bin before directing a cold gaze onto Theta.

Theta didn’t respond, staring at Dottore in a way akin to how a lesser predator would in front of a greater one—trying to decide whether or not it should fight back or flee. After a few moments of tension, Theta ultimately made his decision, raising his chin. “What happened upstairs?”

Dottore raised his eyebrows beneath his mask. “Excuse me?” he asked, devoid of emotion as his mind raced.

Could they feel that he had met you?

That would spell more trouble than Dottore was willing to deal with. What awful timing, he thought bitterly. Of course, you show up during the few weeks he had all of the segments returning to the north for briefings before the Fatui finally began to set out on achieving their ultimate goal: obtaining the gnoses and bringing down Celestia.

Epsilon and the younger segments had already been in the north—they were still at the estate a few miles west of the palace. Delta had dropped off the Iota segment the other day so he could join Rho in tracking down the rogue belligerent in the east but they were making their way back to the estate, albeit slowly. Zeta should’ve arrived at the estate at some point tonight and Lambda would be arriving any day now.

Dottore suddenly had a headache, trying to figure out what to do. He did not feel comfortable enough to leave you at Zapolyarny Palace alone with Pantalone but if he stayed, the segments would get suspicious and start showing up to snoop around, and if he told one of them that you were here to send them to watch over you, he knew damn well that the rest would know in a matter of hours. He’d either be facing a noose or a sword—either way, his ultimate fate would remain the same: the segments would know.

“What happened up there?” Theta asked again, more intensely this time. “We could all feel it. It was strange. I don’t know how to describe it. What was it?”

Briefly, Dottore reconsidered deactivation as he stared at the younger version of himself, who was getting more and more impatient as each second without a response passed. He could see the way his fingers were twitching and the way he was shifting on his face, it was only a matter of time before he started getting more aggressive. He thought maybe he should let it get that far, that way he can just kick Theta out of the lab and go back to working—or more importantly, go back to figuring out what he was supposed to do about you.

“What was it?” Theta demanded and then Dottore watched his eyes widen through the holes of his mask. “Was it h-”

He never got the chance to finish the question. The doors to his lab slammed open and Dottore had never been so grateful before to see Epsilon… until he noticed the panicked expression on his face and the way the Gamma segment was half-hiding behind him, hands shaking and lips pressed together tight. He wouldn’t even look Dottore’s way, gaze directed on the floor between them.

“You’re supposed to be back at the estate,” Dottore said firmly, a foreboding feeling weighing on his chest as he stared at the Epsilon segment.

“The Iota segment never came back from exploring the estate grounds,” Epsilon said, voice steady. Behind him, Gamma took in a shaky breath, turning away. “Kappa slipped away while we were trying to find you.”

“You’re much quieter now,” Pantalone noted as he led you deeper into the palace, down dark, twisting and winding halls that you desperately tried to keep track of but it was like a damn maze. You thought you might never be able to navigate them on your own. “You had quite the mouth with the Doctor. I’ve never seen someone speak so scathingly with him and live to tell the tale.”

You didn’t acknowledge his comment, eyes tracing the portraits hung up along the walls—lined with gilded garnishes and decorated with a soft glow emanating from the moon outside. You wondered if it was by chance that the shadows cast over the portraits seemed to highlight some of the paintings' more distinct details or if it was a specific design choice.

You remembered Pantalone mentioning that this was his wing of the palace and somehow you doubted that anything this man did was by chance, even something as meager as making sure paintings were positioned appropriately for the best aesthetic. You let out a breath, looking back out toward the window—toward freedom. It was dark out now and clouds were rolling in swiftly over the moon, smothering the little natural light, a storm was coming, metaphorically and literally.

Even if you did get the chance to escape, which you doubted would even arise to begin with, all you would be doing is walking to your death. You’d freeze in the winter storms of Snezhnaya, you doubt you’d even make it to the line of trees half of a mile away from the palace.

Dully, you wondered if that would be a better fate than this.

“Oh?” Pantalone continued when you didn’t respond to him. “Is your cruelty reserved only for him? What a shame, I wanted a taste of that sharp tongue of yours.”

You bit back a scoff, staring straight ahead as you continued forward, ignoring the way his violet eyes laid heavily on you, waiting to see how you responded to each of his digs. He was testing you. For what? You didn’t know and you didn’t like that. You were having trouble reading the Regrator and reading people was one of the few things you could actually pride yourself on.

You spent more than a decade of your life sitting in the back of the courtroom, watching proceedings and watching people because you figured that the better you were able to read people’s emotions and predict their answers and response, the better able you would be to hide your soulmate from those that liked to pry.

Pantalone was an anomaly. Draped in the finest of Liyuean silks and donning the most expensive gems from the northernmost mines of Snezhnaya, a Harbinger and one of the wealthiest men in Teyvat, you expected that the man was well-respected, especially in his own nation… but you had seen the way that the Snezhnayan aristocrats looked at him.

Where they looked at the other Harbingers with anxiety and fear, they looked at the Regrator with nothing less than derision, whispering to each other and ridiculing him behind his back. You had meant to ask Artem why that was the case but you had never gotten the chance because someone decided to interrupt the two of you.

So why? Why do they look at a man who had made Snezhnaya prosper with such mockery? The nation had been fumbling before his promotion—a powerful military, yes, but a powerful military meant little politically when they were in constant economic recession. They had gone from being the poorest nation in Teyvat to the second wealthiest, just below Liyue itself; they had gone from having no international political sway to having several nations in the palm of their hand.

So why?

Your mind raced, finally looking at Pantalone from the corner of your eye. He held his chin high as he walked but there was a stiffness in his shoulders that didn’t match the otherwise lackadaisical confidence. His skin was borderline gaunt—you barely noticed it, it was clearly getting healthier but there was still an underlying haggard look that seemed inherent now, as if he had suffered years of sickness or starvation and no matter how hard he tried to rectify it, the damage had already been done.

Aristocrats were a very predictable bunch. They found commonality with those that were similar to them and they found joy in deriding those that tried to be similar to them. You had seen it many times in the Fontaine courts, particularly when the nouveau riche families tried to find places with the old-blooded aristocrats. They could sniff who was their own and who was not like wolves sniffing out their prey.

The Regrator was not a born aristocrat.

“I can see the gears turning,” Pantalone murmured. “Tell me, what conclusion have you come to, little spitfire?”

You looked at him, studying him for a moment before saying: “You weren’t born an aristocrat.”

Pantalone smiled, as if whatever answer he had been looking for was answered. “You lot really can pick out a needle in a haystack.”

You hummed, “It’s not hard when the needle is bright red when the rest are silver.”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows, curious, “It’s that obvious?”

“If you’re looking for it,” you explained. “Aristocrats are always looking for it.”

“I was an orphan,” Pantalone said, leading you further down the halls. You had given up on trying to keep track of the twists and turns. “I lived on the streets for two decades.”

“And yet here you are,” you responded.

The richest man on the continent, a Harbinger, the reason for an entire nation’s economic boom.

“And yet here I am,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, it’s not enough for some people, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Yes,” you said dryly, “and I’m sure you’ll make them eat their words eventually.”

Pantalone let out a huff of laughter, drawing to a stop outside of a dark door. You came to a stop next to him, eyes meeting his as he watched you carefully.

“Naturally,” he acknowledged but now there was a darker edge to his voice, a vein of poison seeping into his tone. “You will be staying here, I will be right across the hall. If you need anything, just knock.”

If you try anything, I’ll be there to stop you, you translated silently, catching the cold look in his eyes even as he smiled thinly at you. You gave him a smile that was just as void of kindness, pushing open the door to step into the room you would be staying in.

Vast and well-decorated, your eyes traced the span of the room from the large bed against the wall to the dressers that you wouldn’t be able to fill because the little clothes you brought to Snezhnaya were back at the inn that you had been staying at. There was a fireplace on the wall opposite of the bed and wide windows that rattled against the winds of the incoming storm.

“I’ll be sure to send some of my subordinates out to fetch you some more outfits,” Pantalone offered but his offer was not made from generosity. The heartless, underlying meaning of his words struck deep: you are not leaving any time soon. “I believe we’re going to get along very well with each other.”

“You… were supposed to be watching the younger segments, Epsilon,” Dottore said, now sitting at his lab table as he tried to keep himself calm, voice tight and teeth grinding.

Every time he thought things couldn’t get worse, somehow they did. It was almost comical at this point how blatantly the Celestial gods seemed to have it out for him, using his life and misery as some twisted game of entertainment for them to watch.

“I’d like to see you try to handle all three of the younger segments at once,” Epsilon responded, voice somehow calm and snide at the same time. “… I nearly forgot, you couldn’t even handle one young segment, could you?”

Dottore’s gaze snapped toward Epsilon, rising to his feet in an instant. “What did you just say?” he asked lowly—he had dealt with enough insolence the past few years from his segments, and with you here now too, there was only so much left he could handle before he snapped.

Epsilon smiled casually. “My apologies,” he said, faux-remorse dripping from his tone. “I forgot the Beta segment is still a sore subject for you. I wasn’t thinking. Forgive me.”

Except the Epsilon segment did not forget anything and he, more than any other segment, always thought before he spoke. Every word he spoke was carefully chosen and articulated, each one with a meaning of its own that sometimes even Dottore couldn’t follow along with.

He thought when making the Epsilon segment that he would be the easiest segment to deal with—empathetic and sentimental. But somehow, he became the most manipulative and cruel of all of the older segments, giving kind smiles all the while speaking words that ripped into each individual segments’ insecurities.

He and the Delta segment in particular tended to be at odds the most. Delta was one of the easiest segments to set off and for some reason, Epsilon rose to Theta’s defense frequently—be it solely for the reason of getting under Delta’s skin or him actually sympathizing with the destructive and volatile segment, Dottore didn’t know or care. What he cared about was the fact that it led to him and Delta clashing nearly every time they were in the same room as each other; Delta getting loud and violent while Epsilon just stood there with amused smiles and quiet, antagonizing comments.

The next week would be exhausting with the three of them all in the estate together. And now with you—he cut off his thoughts abruptly, only getting more irritated. You just had to make everything more complicated. He had to focus on finding the younger segments before he allowed his mind to inevitably drift back off to you.

“Where was he last seen?” Dottore asked, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into the metal of his lab table as he awaited a response from the segment.

“He was searching the ruins to the east of the estate,” Epsilon said. “He’s been there and back tons of times, I figured he would be okay on his own while I finished up what you asked of me.”

“You figured wrong,” Dottore said immediately, voice curt and icy. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. He gets distracted easily. He has to be somewhere between the palace and the estate. I can track a general location.”

“I’ll come with you,” Epsilon offered. “We’ll cover ground faster together.”

Dottore stared at him for a moment, studying him irritably. He hadn’t forgotten the snide comment the segment had shot his way—he wondered if this was his attempt at an actual apology or if he had some ulterior motives.

He nearly scoffed, knowing the answer instantly: Epsilon always had ulterior motives.

“Theta,” Dottore said coldly, gaze cutting to the side toward the other segment. Theta went stiff at the acknowledgment, waiting for him to continue. “You are to find Kappa. This is your chance to prove you are more useful active than destroyed. Do not fail.”

Theta’s lips pressed together tight, twitching as if he wanted to say something but decided against it. He nodded shortly after a moment and then looked away.

“What about me?” Gamma asked suddenly. “What do you want me to do?”

Dottore stared at him a moment. He would do more harm than help with him and Epsilon out looking for Iota—the last thing he needed was having to worry about another one of the younger segments getting lost while searching for Iota.

“Stay with Theta, help find Kappa,” Dottore finally said. “There are a lot of people in the palace for the promotion of the Eleventh. Many of whom would hurt him or use him as a weakness to try to get to me. Find him before they do.”

Gamma nodded but swallowed thickly, nervous at the mention of all of the people in the palace for the event. Usually, the attendees all tended to stick to the ballroom during the course of the event but toward the end, some of their bolder enemies meandered down the halls of the palace in hopes of a chance just like the one Kappa wandering off presented.

He needed to be found before that could happen.

His gaze drifted off to one of the thin, high windows in his lab as Theta and Gamma set off to look for Kappa. A familiar, foreboding feeling settled in his stomach when he noticed a storm rolling in over the mountains in the distance.

“Are you ready?” Epsilon asked, tightening the drawstrings of his cloak as he prepared to go back out into the cold.

Dottore nodded, reaching for his own hanging up on the hook near the door. “Let’s go.”

It took about forty minutes of just sitting around the room with nothing to do for you to leave it. He hadn’t locked the door on his way out and he hadn’t told you to not leave the room, so you assumed that you had some semblance of freedom.

Realistically, a part of you figured that this might be what Pantalone wanted—he wanted you to leave the room and do something suspicious so he could interrogate you, but in your defense, you didn’t have anything malicious or suspicious planned. You just wanted to go up and down the hall to get a sense of where you were.

You hesitated as your hand wrapped around the handle of the door, heart beating rapidly inside your chest, an irrational fear of being attacked as soon as you stepped outside of the room sweeping through you. Logically, you knew it wasn’t going to happen. There was no way that Dottore would hand you off to someone that would put you in a position where you could get hurt, or worse—for his own sake, if not yours.

With that thought in mind, you pushed the door open, breath catching as you peeked your head out to look around.

No one.

The hall was dark, only dimly lit by a few candles in the distance. There was not a soul in sight and the only other door besides yours was on the opposite wall of the hall—you assumed that was Pantalone’s room, he had said he would be nearby. You could see a faint light emanating from beneath the door, so as quiet as possible, you slipped out of your room, shutting the door behind you gently.

Looking up and down the hall, you decided to go to the right first. You wouldn’t be out for long—you just wanted to see what the wing of the palace you were staying in looked like, you didn’t like living somewhere where you didn’t even have a layout of the area. It made you feel helpless and trapped.

Exhaling deeply, you kept your eyes peeled and your attention focused as you made your way down the hall, trying to ignore the creepy, expensive portraits that lined the walls—you swore that their eyes followed you as you walked by.

The further you walked, the more anxious you got. It was a cold, creeping feeling that made you feel as if someone was watching you. Each little alcove that was built into the wall suddenly looked as if it was housing enemies, you thought the shadows seemed to be moving.

Just as you were about to abandon your mission and run back to your room, unable to handle the fight or flight feeling rising to your chest, you caught a flash of red from one of the smaller alcoves. Your head snapped to the side, peering through the darkness to try to figure out what you had just seen—your heart leapt to your throat when a pair of red eyes stared back at you. On instinct, your vision reacted to your shock and anxiety, buzzing against your skin.

But the red eyes widened in surprise, fear, seemingly trying to press back against the wall but unable to move any further inward. It was only then that you realized how the pair of eyes were rather low to the ground—at the height of a child’s.

“Come out,” you said quietly, kneeling down to the ground to try to make the kid feel more comfortable.

After a few moments of silence, the figure drew out from the shadows, shoulders tense and hands locked in front of his body. He was young, looked only around five or six at most with tussled, silvery blue hair and trembling lips. He seemed nervous, borderline terrified, his fingers were shaking where he was holding them in front of him.

It was then that you realized just how similar he looked to Dottore. The hair was styled differently but the same color and you remembered the glimmer of red you had caught beneath his mask when you had leaned in close. You stared at the kid, at a loss for words.

Did he have a child? It didn’t make sense. Dottore didn’t seem like the type of person to have a lover, much less kids. You’d like to think you had a decent idea of him considering you spent over fifteen years feeling his emotions and ten receiving random words from his train of thought. Shouldn’t you have realized at some point that he had someone else? Was that why he was constantly ignoring you?

A familiar, ugly feeling stirred in your chest. Jealousy. You thought back to the snide comment you had made to him earlier, unsure if you wanted to laugh or cry at the irony of it.

The thoughts raced through your head, rampant and damning, were you about to be like your stepfather? Intruding on a pre-existing relationship because you happened upon your soulmate. You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to throw up, but the longer you stayed there without speaking, the more uncomfortable the child looked, refusing to meet your gaze and shifting on his feet anxiously.

He was lost, that was clear enough from his body language and demeanor so you held your hand out to him. You figured that Dottore would come looking for him eventually, or someone would at least, and you thought he shouldn’t be wandering around the halls when there were still so many people in the palace. You could still hear the music and chatter in the distance.

“Come here,” you said softly, holding your hand out toward him. You watched as he stared at your hand curiously, an odd expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything as he moved closer to you. Your brows shot up when you noticed he was limping, gaze dropping down to the blood staining his pants. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer, which you should have expected, the kid seemed shy and anxious. Instead, as soon as he got close enough to you, you lifted him up to sit him on your hip as you rose to your feet. The child let out a surprised noise, fisting at your top when he realized that his feet were no longer touching the ground.

“You shouldn’t be walking on that,” you told him. “I’ll bring you back to my room to check your leg. The Doctor will come for you soon enough.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, you couldn’t help the way your heart squeezed as he relaxed into your arms, resting his head on your shoulder. You could feel his eyes fluttering shut, lashes brushing your neck as they drooped. Instinctually, you hummed softly, one hand rubbing circles between his shoulders as you made your way back to your room, trying to sort through all of your racing thoughts as he fell asleep against you.

Was it his son? It had to be unless the kid was some weird scientific experiment… which you supposed was also possible. You sighed heavily, making it half of the way down the hall back to your room when you caught sight of two figures standing at the end of it—you couldn’t make out their faces, it was too dark, but you could see their forms dimly illuminated by the moon glowing high in the sky.

Instantly, something didn’t sit right in your stomach about it, alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing as one of them stepped closer.

You stepped back, grip tightening on the boy. He stirred a bit, confused, but you kept your attention focused on the two new arrivals.

“Hand the boy over.”

RBS APPRECIATED

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

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five-rivers · 5 months

Text

radiology

for @dekalko-mania and @dragonsdomain

Danny looked down at his arm and leg, then up at the ER desk, then over to his mother, sitting next to him, who had witnessed the car ‘clipping’ him. Unknown to her, it had done quite a bit more than clip him. Anyone else, and the driver’d have a vehicular homicide charge on his hands, not just a hit and run.

If she hadn’t been watching– If he’d seen the car–

Well, then he wouldn’t be in this mess, would he? He would’ve dodged, or gone intangible, or just hidden the injuries he did get until they cleared up. Just like he’d hidden all the other injuries he’d gotten that week.

Although, he could admit that these were pretty bad, all things considered. Worse than he usually got, which was incredible, considering he’d gotten it from something as banal as a car accident.

Less banal were the other injuries he was sporting. Like, new broken bones and bruises? That’s what he was supposed to have. That’s what was normal to have after a car accident.

Old broken bones and bruises… He definitely still had the ones from being hit by the car, but they just as definitely had started healing already, faster than a normal human’s ever could. So had the broken bones and bruises he’d gotten earlier in the week after a particularly nasty fight with Aragon, the bites from the ghost bear, the stab wound from an anti-ghost knife (thanks Valerie)... But they were still there. Those would be harder to explain. If he even could explain them.

He needed to figure out how to hide all of this. Like, obviously, he couldn’t hide everything. He had been hit by a car, and, more importantly, he’d been seen getting hit by a car. But the weirder stuff? He could do that.

“Fentons?” called the receptionist. “They’re ready with the x-ray.”

“He’s going to need a wheelchair,” said Maddie.

They got him a wheelchair, despite his protests that he could still walk, and wheeled him over to radiology. He eyed the x-ray machine with trepidation and distaste. It didn’t look like much, not compared to some of the machines he’d been in, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have the power to destroy his life. Metaphorically. Probably couldn’t do it literally. Probably.

A woman leaned into the room. “Mrs. Fenton, we have a question about your insurance.”

“Right, okay, I’ll be right back, sweetie.”

“Don’t worry,” said the radiologist, who was adjusting something on her computer. “We’d actually ask you to leave the room while we did this anyway. No reason to irradiate you today.”

“My jumpsuit would–”

“Mrs. Fenton, the insurance.”

“Yes, yes,” said Maddie, she walked out, leaving Danny behind with the radiologist and the nurse that had helped them back here.

The nurse helped the doctor make sure he was arranged properly for the x-ray, each limb in place, while the radiologist took a series of images. Then he got him back into the wheelchair.

“Thanks David, I think we’ll be okay here for now, if you need to get back to the ER. I’ll call Molly when Mr. Fenton’s ready to get his bones set.”

“Alright,” said the nurse, nodding. “You’ll be in good hands, kid, Molly’s great.”

That left Danny alone with the radiologist, who was clicking through Danny’s x-rays on her computer and rapidly paling. With a flash, he went ghost and phased into the radiologist.

He didn’t like overshadowing people very much anymore. It had been fun at first, getting to be someone else. Like playing a part. But being the part, being puppeted… That was a lot less fun, and once Danny realized that, he stopped, except for when it was going to save a life. Or his secret. Which was pretty much his life.

He stared at the computer screen. Overshadowing someone didn’t mean that he knew what they knew. Not really. But he did get echoes. Impressions. Bits of emotion. Sometimes, he even got a snippet of something they knew so well that it was basically muscle memory. So, he knew his x-rays were screwed up, but not in what way, except–

Oh, yeah. That would do it. That was probably it, anyway. He’d forgotten that he’d phased the thermos into his stomach to hide it, earlier. Along with a couple pencils, a spoon, and various other small objects. That was probably also related to why his liver felt so bruised… He hadn’t realized it’d show up in x-ray even though it was intangible, but then, Danny was still visible while intangible, unless he went invisible at the same time, so… Yeah… Huh, the physics behind that had to be wild.

But that wasn’t relevant right now. He was hurt enough that he didn’t think he could hold onto the radiologist for more than a few minutes longer. She wasn’t really fighting him, but she had a strong sense of self.

However… he deleted all his x-rays. That was step one. Now, she had to have, like, spares or something. Something he could substitute in for the images he’d just deleted. He minimized the window and started looking through the radiologist’s files. The spares might not have bones broken in the same places… or even broken bones at all, but that was fine. People got lucky in accidents all the time. He could play it off as the car not hitting him that hard. Or something.

Panic and aching pain may have disrupted his thought processes just a little bit.

Finally, he found something labeled EXAMPLE 20XX. That’d work. That was over ten years ago, for all that it looked like the right file type for the x-ray program, so hopefully the radiologist wouldn’t recognize it.

He loaded the pictures up and fled the radiologist’s body. Just in time, too. As the radiologist was orienting herself, Maddie came back in, a scowl on her face. However, the scowl quickly turned into naked worry when she saw Danny.

“Were you able to take his pictures already?”

“Yes, we have a new fast imager. But these are…” She trailed off, examining the screen intensely.

“Is something wrong?” asked Maddie.

“Well,” said the radiologist, “come look.”

Maddie crossed the distance between Danny and the radiologist. “Oh, thank goodness, I don’t see any breaks.”

“And that would be good, if these were his bones.”

“They’re not?”

“Not unless he’s a thirty-five year old woman,” she said. “Sorry, this is my sample set. It shouldn’t be connected to his– Nothing like this has happened before. I didn’t even have my samples open.”

“Could the undo button help?” asked Maddie.

“I mean, if they were in here at all, maybe,” said the radiologist.

Tucker was going to kill him for not restarting that program. And the computer. And emptying the ‘trash’ bin. And probably a dozen other things that would have prevented from the radiologist and his mother being able to restore everything with a few clicks of an ‘undo’ button.

“Oh, here they are, they’re…” She started losing color again. “Mrs. Fenton, do you have any idea what this… what these things are? Or how he could have… Dear lord, I think these are more break than bone.”

Maddie turned to Danny. Her stance looked casual, but Danny knew she could whip out a gun faster than you could blink.

“Danny,” she said, “can you explain any of this?”

#danny phantom #phic phight

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stoneagedevil · 4 months

Text

They’ll Understand (Somethin’ Stupid pt. 2) | Alastor x f!Reader

Part 1: “Somethin’ Stupid”

TW/CW: Angel being Angel. Anxiety and fear. Allusions to murder.

🎙️

“Wear this little number? He won’t be able to resist ya!” Angel was keeping you captive in his room, currently raiding his closet in search for something you could wear to impress Alastor, and according to Angel, once you “reeled him in with your pretty face” and “rockin’ body” you’d be able to “bed him.” You weren’t necessarily pleased with his wording, your face turning as red as your dreamboat’s hair.

“Angel, while I appreciate the gesture, I’m not comfortable wearing a leather bikini.” You deadpanned. Your anxiety was nipping at your heels, and you felt the urge to run. From what? Most likely confessing. To where? You didn’t know. But you hated how it was bringing the skittish deer out of you, as it was truly embarrassing. Alastor and you often confided in each other on how your demonic forms had caused you numerous headaches, and you felt comforted that someone you admired so much also experienced the same things you did, just as he felt that way about you. But you didn’t run from things, as they typically ran from you. You stood from Angel’s bed and started pacing again in an attempt to quell the instinct to run.

“Even if he reciprocated, what am I meant to do with love? What happens after?” You tilted your head at Angel, and he dropped another inappropriate article of clothing in shock at your question.

“You mean you’ve neva seen those cheesy romance flix before?” Angel’s eyes widened. This was the saddest thing ever. Identifying these feelings was one thing, but the fact that you didn’t know how to act on them was so depressing to Angel. Just how emotionally constipated were you? Hadn’t you felt love before? What kind of life had you led that you didn’t know the feeling at all?

“I can’t say I really watched much TV. Just the same few movies I really enjoyed over and over again when I wanted to hear another’s voice. Definitely not romance films.” You contemplated. No, you couldn’t recall ever watching romance films. You weren’t particularly keen on watching much TV, and you only went to the movie theatre when something truly interested you. However, you would occasionally put on a movie in the background while doing chores such as laundry, as it filled the empty space; if it wasn’t a movie, it was music, and it most often was.

“Well sit your ass down then, because class is in session.” After unceremoniously pushing your shoulders down to make you sit on his bed once more, Angel immediately went to where he kept his romance movies, pulling out a handful and explaining each one to you, before making you watch the best scenes from each.

Initially, you were quite apprehensive. Angel the Love Doctor’s license was certainly questionable, especially with this prescription of mushy movies. But eventually, you resonated with a lot of the characters, specifically the ones who were troubled with their feelings, like that one “Edward Cullen” guy.

From your understanding, love was one of the most powerful emotions a person could feel. It drove these characters to do insane things that furthered the plot of the movie; things you’ve done because of your feelings for Alastor: like hurting people you felt threatened by. Through these scenes, you learned about jealousy, of so-called “butterflies,” how people apart hurt inside.

But love made them…happy. Happy. Content in domestic bliss. You felt a pull in your chest, realizing you couldn’t ever remember feeling that way. You hadn’t had anyone around you interested in the same things you were. You were always the outlier. Always the one picked last for things. It didn’t particularly bother you at the time; back when you were alive. You didn’t have much to care about. But now, you felt you had something good to die for, which made it that much more beautiful to live.

Your brows were furrowed in concentration, and you were so focused on the screen and the interactions between the lovers that Angel sat you in front of, you failed to notice a stream of tears coming from your eyes.

Angel quickly took notice, pausing the TV immediately. “Woah woah woah, why’re you crying babe?” He plucked a tissue from the box beside his bed and dabbed underneath your eyes. Fuck. He didn’t think he’d be making you feel bad.

“Crying?” You brought a hand up to your cheek, surprised to find it damp. You marveled at the way the films made you feel, how imagining Alastor and yourself in their shoes made you feel, staring at the teardrops on your fingertips. “I- I feel like I understand. Like a want has just become a need. It’s truly wonderful. Like a breath of fresh air.” You smiled softly, moving to look into Angel’s eyes.

“Sheesh dollface, you had me worried.” Angel rolled his eyes playfully, internally relieved that he hadn’t just made an overlord cry, but most of all, that he hadn’t made a friend cry. “So now that you kinda get it, what’re ya gonna do?” You brainstormed for a second at the question, as it didn’t take long to figure out what would make Alastor the happiest.

“Alastor is a musical man.” You stated, instantly becoming more analytical and focused on the best way to get your feelings across to Alastor. “He’d never shy away from listening to a good song…” You trailed off.

“…so? Are you thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’?” Angel smiled smugly. He knew you sang to yourself during daily tasks, but you weren’t much of an extrovert, only making scenes when you had to establish your title as an overlord whenever demons seemed to forget. He imagined if you knew he could hear you singing in the shower next to his room, you’d be mortified. It was funny how you and Alastor could be so different, yet so alike, as Alastor was an extroverted entertainer.

“I’m thinking that in order to make him listen, and to make this special, I should sing for him. People always say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but Alastor is quite adept at cooking. He wouldn’t need me for that.” You smiled to yourself, thinking back to times when Alastor would have you taste test a dish. Perhaps food was the way to your heart too, specifically his cooking.

—

Charlie was currently helping Alastor come up with sure fire ways to make you his officially (in his head you already were). Her notepad was filled with things her and Alastor knew you liked, hoping to put the information to good use.

Charlie had become wildly animated, smile stretched from cheek to rosy cheek. “You should tell her with a grand gesture! With fireworks and flowers and confetti and chocolates and singing and-“ Alastor raised a hand to stop her barrage of outlandish ideas.

“Charlie, I’m afraid that’s a bit too much.” Alastor stubbed out her sparkling ideas like a cigarette. While he was known to be grand in his executions (literal executions as well), he wanted this to be more personal. More intimate. Part of it was that he was incredibly shy about his romantic feelings for you, though he’d never let on to it. You were an intimidating woman, it was one of the reasons he fell in love with you, so he preferred to do this in private where no one could see his facial expressions. In addition to that, he knew how introverted you were in comparison to him; an incredibly private person.

“Okay, what about dinner at a super fancy restaurant? And flowers. You have to give her flowers.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” He summoned a rose, which had begun to rapidly wilt and die soon after the stem had touched his fingertips. It irked him. Something he previously didn’t have a problem with now stood in between him and your heart.

“Oh…” Charlie’s head hit the table. How was she supposed to help Hell’s population problem if she couldn’t even help Alastor express his romantic feelings for you? This was so hard.

“Fret not my dear, your dinner idea was exceptional! However, I think I should be the one to make the dishes.” A candlelit dinner with your favorite food being brought to you by him? You’d already expressed how much you enjoyed his cooking every time he held a spoonful of food up to your face. Feeding you and hearing you sing his praises on another culinary success made him feel as though he were floating. With you by his side, he was sure he wouldn’t have to walk anywhere ever again.

“That’s a great idea! I bet that would really impress her! And I can be the one to put the flowers on the table so they don’t wilt!” She clasped her face in between her hands, almost as if she was trying to stop her smile from getting any wider.

Immediately after establishing their plans, Alastor and his wing-woman Charlie had begun to research the best recipes pertaining to your tastes.

This had to be absolutely perfect, Alastor thought.

—

Music. It was what you and Alastor had bonded most over. He showed you Jazz’s greatest artists, the pioneers of brassy sounds, and you adored his passion in the genre. You listened to what you liked, as simple as that sounds. Your tastes often surpassed any one genre, and you found yourself dipping your hooves into anything; even just to give it a chance.

If music had brought you so close to Alastor, surely it would bring you even closer. Once you left Angel’s room, you dove into your collections of vinyl and CDs you acquired over your time in Hell. The greatest hits pertaining to love flooded your room, and you listened intently to the lyrics. Looking down at the notepad in front of you, you began to write about the way Alastor made you feel. This had to be absolutely perfect, you thought.

—

A couple days passed, and as Alastor opened the door to his hotel room to step out and retrieve the suit he was having pressed, a note taped onto it caught his ruby sight. With an eyebrow raised, he skeptically plucked the note from his door and began to read it.

“Dearest Alastor,

I hope you’ll find the time to come to the ballroom located in the hotel at 6pm. I’ve made a gift for you, and I’m hoping you’ll accept.

From,

Y/N”

You sat writing many iterations of that damned letter. Was “With love” too much? “Forever yours” most certainly was, no matter how true it was. “Sincerely” was stupid. Maybe you should just keep it simple.

“From, Y/N.” Simple. Simply stupid. But you went with it anyway.

Alastor’s heart leaped up to his throat, he was sure if he opened his mouth, it would jump out and find its way towards you. He retreated back into his room, opening one of the drawers he dedicated to you. It was filled with notes containing songs you’ve written down for him, and songs he wrote down that you recommended verbally. The wilted rose he wished so desperately to give to you that was used as a demonstration to Charlie on why he couldn’t. Receipts from outings you two accompanied each other on, and his ticket from your trip to the movie theatre that was playing one of your favorite movies at the time. He truly tried his best to pay attention to the silver screen, but he mostly found himself enamored with the way the light from the screen lit up your face.

He gently placed his newest treasure in the drawer, excited to see what you had in store for the night. Though, on the other hand, he was a bit nervous and disappointed. He’d planned on picking up all of the ingredients for a dish that would knock your socks off, in addition to picking up his pressed suit. If you had something to give to him, he wouldn’t have time to cook this night. His heart and shadow were getting antsy, the latter outwardly showing his deepest desires which he adamantly detested. He’d catch his shadow practically making heart eyes at you, and Alastor found himself wishing he would wave his hands at it to make it diminish like cigarette smoke in the air.

No matter! Perhaps after whatever you had planned, he’d ask you to a dinner cooked and presented by him. Closing the drawer, he made his way out to the dry cleaners to ensure he wouldn’t forget his suit when the time came to woo you. However, what he did forget, was letting Charlie know of this change of plans, who had already helped in setting up a table for two with red roses and unlit candles in a candelabra sitting in the center; all set up in the very room you wished to deliver your gift.

—

You had spent quite some time writing your song dedicated to Alastor, and soon after its completion, you enlisted the help of your souls-turned-shadows to play instruments and do background vocals. There was no way in Hell you’d allow a demon to aid in this. You rehearsed a few times before deeming it a perfect performance that you were willing to give to Alastor. The time was now a little after 4, and you decided to get ready.

Your hair was curled, makeup to your liking, and you wore a black tea-length dress with an abundance of white tulle underneath the skirt to make it flare out more. The sweetheart neckline sported a small, white, satin bow in the center. You slipped on a shiny pair of black kitten heels, opting for more of a comfortable dress shoe - your nerves were sure to make you incredibly uncomfortable, so you attempted to counteract that a bit by making your physical self as comfortable yet stylish as it could be. As a finishing touch, you clasped a string of pearls around your neck. They were a gift from Alastor when he found out that it was your birthday. You told him you didn’t need anything, and that birthdays sort of lost their meanings when you lived for so long in Hell, but he wouldn’t hear any of it, adamantly telling you that your birth was something to be celebrated. If you had figured out your feelings for him by then, you’re sure you would have kissed him.

You turned to look into the mirror wondering if Alastor would think you looked nice. Nervously, you made your way to Angel’s room beside yours. Hesitantly you knocked, opening the door when a muffled “come in” prompted you to.

“What’s up toots? Hey! Don’t you clean up nice!” He exclaimed, getting up from his bed and taking your hand to spin you around, dress flaring out around you as you spun.

“You don’t think it’s too much? Or too little?” You looked into Angel’s mirror, your hands worrying over any perceived imperfection. Angel once more grabbed your hands to stop them from flying around.

“Girl, you look great, and I know he’ll think so too.” He quelled your nerves. Then you did something out of character, you hugged him. Initially taken aback, Angel’s arms tightened around you.

“Thank you Angel.”

—

Alastor arrived at 6 on the dot. Not always punctual, never late, and always on time. Although he did want to arrive at the ballroom earlier, he didn’t want to seem too eager, even though he most certainly was. His excitement rolled off of him in waves, making the demons he met along the way to pick up his suit even more uneasy than usual.

When he walked through the grand doors, he saw his little setup that he and Charlie planned to set up for the dinner date. He contemplated hiding the table, conjuring a portal to a shadow dimension and pushing the evidence of his feelings for you into the dark abyss, but before he could act on this, he heard the clicking of heels making their way across the stage portion of the ballroom.

You were a vision, and he considered pinching himself as he thought he was looking at an angel. He hadn’t mistakenly enrolled in the redemption program, did something good, and then made his way upstairs, did he? You stood in front of a silver microphone, your hands shakily grasping it to keep yourself steady. Alastor clumsily grasped the back of one of the chairs meant for the two of you, slowly lowering himself into the seat and never taking his eyes off of your form.

“My gift is a song I’ve written with you in mind.” You said simply, and although you outwardly looked as confident as you always did, internally you were sure you were dying a second time.

The sounds of a glockenspiel sounded throughout the room signifying the beginning of the song, followed by background vocals singing “Anyone.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and stepping closer to the mic before beginning your song.

“You can blame me,

Try to shame me,

And still I'll care for you,

You can run around,

Even put me down,

Still I'll be there for you,”

You knew he’d never do these things to you, but you wanted to tell him that no matter the hardships, you’d always be there for him. Alastor’s heart was beating faster than it ever had before, was this a love song? No…

“The world

May think I'm foolish,

They can't see you,

Like I can,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

It’s amusing to think that not too long ago, you were someone who didn’t understand. But here you are now, singing that you couldn’t care less about what others would think if they knew the depths of your feelings for Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, these blasted eyes of his kept fogging up, making it difficult to see you. Nobody has ever done this sort of thing for him, and he was absolutely enamored with your voice and the lyrics you wrote about him. He gripped the chair that he was sitting in, afraid he’d float away and miss the rest of your carefully crafted performance. He’d never seen you with so much emotion on your face, these visual feelings you possessed highlighted by pink and red lights. He would’ve been grateful for the color choice, as it hid his bright red face, but he couldn’t find it in him to care, much less even notice the effect you had on him. All he could see and hear was you, and he wanted it to be that way forever.

“I just feel so sorry,

For the ones,

Who pity me,

'Cause they just don't know,

Oh they don't know what happiness and love can be,”

You opened your eyes to stare into Alastor’s as you delivered the next few lines.

“I know,

I know to ever let you go,

It's more,

Than I,

Could ever stand,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

You thought about how Angel had helped you understand in his own strange way, and this verse was almost like a thank you note to him. The music began to lull as you sang the last few lines.

“Oh they'll understand,

If they try love they'll understand,

Oh try to understand”

The last line was for Alastor, and you almost prayed he would try and understand your feelings for him, and hopefully realize any feelings he had for you.

The song had finally finished, and if Alastor had a time machine he’d travel three minutes into the past in order to hear you sing again. Then he’d do it over and over and over again. Making your way down from the stage, Alastor shot up from his seat. He’d rehearsed how he’d proclaim his undying love for you, but now that you’d done it first, he was scrambling.

He panicked. He actually panicked. He ripped the red roses from the vase sat on table and held them out to you, the both of you watching in shock (Alastor mostly in horror) as the roses had the life sucked out from their stems and the vase tipped over causing water to spill onto the floor between you both. His smile tightened, eyes snapping shut as he debated teleporting far, far away from here; never to return. But his jumbled and anxiety ridden thoughts were cut short when he felt soft hands gently pry open his larger ones, taking the flowers. It was you, and you were smiling the biggest smile he’d ever seen you make, and it was directed at him.

You lifted the dead roses to your face and inhaled the remnants of their floral scent, and Alastor’s heart melted at the gesture.

“Your song was wonderful my dear. May I ask for an encore?” He said, shyly. Your cheeks turned rosy, and you bashfully looked away.

“You didn’t think it was ridiculous?” You asked hopefully, tightly clutching your dead bouquet.

“Ridiculous? It was nothing of the sort! For a moment I thought I was in Heaven and I was most-“

You tugged him down by the collar of his shirt and pressed an unsure kiss to his lips. His ears stood straight up, tail secretly wagging behind him, just as yours did. He melted into the affectionate gesture, moving his claws to cradle your neck and the small of your back in order to bring you closer. Pulling away, you lovingly gazed into each other's eyes.

“Y/N, your performance was absolutely astounding. I’d trade every vinyl in my collection for just a second more.” And that was the truth. He was sure no song would ever compare to the masterpiece you crafted for him. Because of him.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to record it and have it pressed just for you. You wouldn’t happen to know a guy with recording equipment, would you?” You flirted.

“My darling, of course I do! He’s quite the catch too, though using the equipment comes with a price.” He smiled smugly, cheeks just as red as yours.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“You’ll have to allow him to call you his girl, it’s just the rules my darling.” Internally, he was nervous you’d reject him. Why? You just wrote, composed, and performed an entire song for him. But it was you. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and he couldn’t believe quite yet that you returned the feelings he’d been trying to grapple with for some time.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a kiss mark (one he’d refuse to wipe off for some time). “I’d love nothing more.”

—

Later that night, Alastor and you had retired to your room. You sat at the end of your couch, his head resting in your lap as you told each other stories about what you had stupidly done in the name of your unknown love for each other.

“It’s funny, that table was in the ballroom because I planned on taking you on a dinner date tonight. Charlie lent a hand in planning it.” Alastor revealed.

You tilted your head at the fact that Alastor too had a “wingman” as Angel had put it. “Charlie? How funny, Angel helped me with some things too. He actually helped me realize my feelings for you.”

“Charlie helped me the same way. She said that you obviously fancied me.” He had a smug smile on his face, looking for your reaction.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline at the allegation. “What? How? Was I truly that obvious?”

“Yes, well, a little birdy told me about a certain carpet incident with Mimzy, my darling.” That was his favorite story. He’d often imagine you glaring angrily at a clueless Mimzy, lifting a manicured claw and causing the poor blonde’s face to harshly meet the floor.

You turned your nose up indignantly. “Incident? I was merely helping her get a better look at the carpet she continuously complimented you on picking out.” You huffed, crossing your arms. Alastor laughed at your adorable behavior, loving the jealousy that came off you in waves at the mention of Mimzy.

“Don’t worry my love, no other woman could compare to you. Anyone who knows what love is could see I only have eyes for you.”

—♥️—

I hoped you all enjoyed that, and I really appreciate the love you all gave to part 1!

Taglist: @alastruist @martinys-world @ustulia

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #fanfic #x reader #hazbin fandom #hazbin fanfic #alastor fanfiction #Spotify

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 5 months

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Will Halstead (Ft Platonic! Jay Halstead): I'll Call Will

This was supposed to be short! Why can’t I ever just write a page or two? Oh well- I like how it turned out. I have no medical knowledge and I made shit up.

This is like my People We Love story reversed regarding it being more Platonic Jay x reader than Will x reader.

You shift and feel Jay’s eyes shoot to you. He had been eyeing you like a bomb that was about to explode since he got to your and Will’s apartment two hours ago. You were trying to ignore him and his detective's gaze, but it was starting to get irritating. “You know if you keep it up, I’m going to take your fun uncle shirt and replace it with a worry wart one.”

“You’ve been having cramps off and on since I got here, and you don’t look like you feel good.” You roll your eyes at your brother-in-law affectionately. Shooting him an amused look from across the couch and resting your hand on your prominent baby bump.

“It must be that glow everyone talks about. I'm almost seven months pregnant, Jay. Braxton Hicks is normal.” What you don’t want to tell him as they had been becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. You hadn’t gotten off the couch since he got here because you felt lightheaded with a side of vertigo. “I went to the OB last week for an appointment. They said everything was just fine. No problems, no restrictions.” You tell him and remind yourself.

You were trying to take the pregnancy in stride. People had babies in fields for years but it didn’t mean you didn’t get nervous sometimes. You had never been pregnant before and didn’t know what to expect and you had learned the hard way that Will was not the one to ask. He was a wealth of information. Too much information. It often made your anxiety worse after talking to him rather than better. He had too many horror stories from the ED.

Jay looked unconvinced but dropped the subject and went back to watching the trashy TV show you had turned on. The two of you watched another episode and a half with rounds of minor cramping on your part. The commercial was just ending when a cramp so painful jolted through your belly that it made you grab at it and whimper. When you blink Jay is in front of you. He looks angry but you have known him long enough to know it was actually worry clouding his features. “Okay that’s it we are going to the hospital.”

“Jay, I don’t think-” He doesn’t even let you finish your thought.

“You either let me take you to the hospital right now or I’ll call Will.” You search Jay’s eyes. “Your choice.” He is clearly over it and reaches for his cell. You can just imagine your husband after a call like that. He would leave work and speed home in a mad dash to get to you. You would feel so bad if he did all that for a few Braxton Hick contractions.

“Okay! Okay, fine, let’s go.” Jay wastes no getting you to your feet and out of the apartment steering you to his car. “Just what the world needed another Doctor Halstead, Will will be so proud.” You tell him before Jay rolls his eyes and closes the car door.

You sit in the hospital bed waiting for the OB to come back. Your doctor was out today and the woman that came in was all warm smiles and a reassuring tone. She must have been new because you didn’t recognize her or her name. “It looks like the cramping is just Braxton Hicks. It’s completely normal and nothing to worry about.” You looked over at Jay who had been lurking near the bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What? It was better to get you checked out just in case.” Jay��s tone is defensive, and you roll your eyes lovingly at your brother-in-law. The OB smiled at him and patted him comfortingly on the arm.

“It is a good thing that he brought you in.” You look at the woman in surprise because her tone goes serious. “Your blood pressure is much higher than I would like. Have you been under more stress than normal lately?” You sigh as you begrudgingly tell her about your increased workload. “Have you been feeling more fatigued than normal? Lightheaded, dizzy, or any vertigo?”

“I’m almost seven months pregnant, isn’t feeling off kind of normal?” You put your hand on your rounded stomach protectively.

“It can be but with your blood pressure being so high it’s concerning. I’m going to order a blood panel just to be on the safe side. Now, let’s take a peek at this baby.” The ultrasound is all normal. the OB points out your baby's face and hand. You look over at Jay who is watching the screen in awe. He had seen the pictures, but this was a new experience. He breathed a quiet wow as the quick heartbeat of the baby filled the room. “It all looks good. It shouldn’t take long for that panel then you will be good to go.”

A familiar nurse that you can’t name comes in and draws your blood. “Maybe I should message Will and let him know we are here.” Jay pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins typing.

“Why so he can wait with us? He is working- leave him alone. Besides that was our deal, wasn’t it? There isn’t an emergency.” Jay holds his hands up in surrender. “And will you sit down please- your pacing is driving me crazy.” Jay flops into the chair giving you a ‘happy now’ look. “Geez, it’s like having a real brother.”

“Yeah, and you're stuck with me. You and that bean, you got growing.”

You smile caressing your stomach, “I’m good with that.” As much as you had fought him on it, it was nice to know that he cared enough to drag you to the hospital. Jay was protective and you knew he was going to be a lot more than just the fun uncle who only stopped by when he felt like treating your kid to a good time. “Can I ask you something?” At his nod, you continued, “Why were you at my apartment at 2 in the afternoon on a day you knew Will worked a double? Did Will ask you to check up on me?”

“No,” You gave him a look of disbelief, “No, really, he didn’t. He didn’t ask me to come over or anything like that. He just mentioned that he thought you may not have been feeling good the last few days. So, I just wanted to make sure that you were- Are you crying?”

You were.

You had big crocodile tears running down your cheeks, “It’s the hormones. And honestly, that is just the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” More tears streamed down your face and Jay looked uncertain of what to do. When he saw a strategically placed tissue box, he grabbed it and held it out to you. You grabbed a few and started dabbing at your eyes. Your own family hadn’t been part of your life much since you had moved to Chicago. Not that they had been very good to you throughout your childhood into your twenties. You felt like you looked out for them more than they ever would for you. “I hope you know that I appreciate you and I’m so glad you are going to be in this baby's life. I love you, Jay.” He looked a little miffed but flattered as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Of course, I love you too.”

You had gathered your raging emotions by the time the OB had returned. “Alright, everything looks good. I’m not going to put you on bed rest, but I highly encourage you to take it easy for the next few days.” You thank her and swing your legs over the bed to start the process of getting up, which is much harder now with a protruding belly. The woman paused in the doorway before turning and taking another step back into the room. You and Jay both look at her. “You know, another good natural way to get your blood pressure down is by having sex. I don’t see any problems with you having sexual activity right now. And with the looker you got- I would take every opportunity you get before the baby is the one keeping you up at night.” The doctor gives you a knowing wink before exiting the room.

You look over to see a mortified Jay. His eyes were closed tightly, and he brought his hand to scrub down the bottom half of his face. The woman had barely made it out the door when you started laughing uncontrollably. When Will walked into the room less than a minute later and looked at you in bemusement as you tried to catch your breath. “Everything okay?”

You immediately sober, “I told you not to bother him!” Will walked over to your bedside and helped you shuffle off the bed. His hand came to rest in its now familiar place on your stomach.

“He didn’t, Maggie saw your name on some bloodwork. Are you okay? Everything okay with the baby?” Will’s face was furrowed with concern. You put your hand over his stroking your thumb across his knuckles.

“Everything is fine. I had some cramping and Jay took me in to be on the safe side. It was just Braxton Hicks.” Some of the tension left Will but you can tell he is still on alert. “My blood pressure is a little high. But don’t worry, the doc thinks it is just from stress. She told me I should take it easy for a few days and gave me a few...natural ways to bring it down.” Will furrowed his brow trying to think of what you could be referring to. Then he turned when he heard Jay cough and mutter something under his breath. Will looked between the two of you knowing he had missed something.

You give him a soft smile, “I’ll explain later. But really, don't worry, okay. I’m just going to spend the day on the couch watching Love is Blind. Taking it easy and relaxing, just like she said.” You push up on your toes and oblige you by leaning down for a kiss. “Now, I really have to go to the bathroom.” You say as you make a beeline for the public bathroom down the hall.

“Is she really, okay? It must have been pretty bad for her to feel like she needed to call you.” Will looked even more worried after you left the room. Jay rested his hand on his shoulder to comfort his older brother. He knew that Will had been trying his hardest to keep all of his own worry as a doctor from bleeding into you. He had been trying hard to do everything at your pace and not overstep the line of future dad to doctor. It hadn’t always been a struggle he won. It didn’t help that you hated hospitals and felt like less was more when it came to OB appointments. You had a tendency to cancel and never reschedule them much to his frustration.

“She’s okay. I was actually already over there. She started getting some cramping and I kind of forced her to come here to get checked out.” A guilty look crossed Jay's face.

“Forced her?” Will found that hard to believe. It was like pulling teeth to force you into doing anything. You had a stubborn streak to match the Halstead clan.

“Well, more of an ultimatum really. I told her she could either agree to come in or I'd call you.”

Will hummed in understanding, that sounded way more plausible. “You were already over there? I thought I told you I was working a double.”

“You did.” Jay agreed, “You also told me she had been feeling well.”

The gratitude that Will felt for his brother at that moment was overwhelming. “Thanks, man. I’m glad you were there. It means a lot.”

“You would have done the same for me,” Jay stated simply, “Besides that what you do for family.” He sighed heavily, “That’s why after I buy her the pizza she has been talking about for the last hour, I’m going to sit down on the couch with her and watch that trash she calls TV. I’ll make sure she is all good until you get home.”

#chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead #will halstead x you #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #jay halstead #platonic jay halstead

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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months

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moments filled with everything

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is wanting to do everything together' AND for @starryeyedjanai's birthday! Happiest of birthdays to you! there's no spice this time, but i hope you enjoy anyway!

rated t | 1,369 words | cw: mention of injury/hospital | tags: soulmate au, getting together, love confessions

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The inconvenience of finding your soulmate when he’s on the run from the law and citizens of the town is pretty annoying. Especially when said soulmate insisted on trying to protect everyone and almost dies in the process.

The problem is that when you touch your soulmate for the first time, the connection becomes unbreakable, and the first few weeks are usually spent constantly touching in some way.

The problem is that they don’t have that option during the end of the world.

The problem is Eddie is under close watch of doctors and nurses, and Hopper, while they sort out his health and clearing his name, and that means Steve can only stop by during regular visiting hours.

The problem is that everyone else also only visits during normal visiting hours and they agreed not to tell anyone about their soulmate situation until he was home and safe.

Steve could feel the constant pull to touch him, to comfort him when the pain started to get to be too much. It was almost painful to have distance between them, but with the kids constantly fighting for Eddie’s attention, and Wayne sitting right next to him most days, Steve could barely get a quick brush of their hands.

They hadn’t even kissed yet.

It’s been 11 days since they touched. 11 days since Steve’s entire life became ‘get him out of this so you can love him.’

The loving him part was easy; only took a couple of days of watching him with the kids and with his uncle and with Robin for Steve to know he loved Eddie. But he wasn’t stupid, and he knew that Eddie probably didn’t feel the same yet. Why would he? He barely knew him, barely saw who he was outside of emergency mode.

And Eddie had made a passing comment right before he almost died, something Steve couldn’t quite get out of his head.

”A soulmate is someone you wanna do everything with, and I just don’t think I’ll get that.”

He didn’t know Steve could hear him, and probably wouldn’t have said it if he did, but if that’s how he felt after knowing Steve was his soulmate, then he didn’t think the love was going to be returned anytime soon, if ever. He could be patient. He was trying to be. But he wasn’t that hopeful.

Sometimes Eddie’s eyes would land on his across the hospital room, and they’d settle there for far longer than was considered normal for friends. They’d search Steve’s face for long enough that Steve could feel the warmth of a blush across his cheeks. He’d look away, but he’d feel Eddie’s gaze remain, sometimes for a few more seconds, sometimes more.

The pull got worse by the day.

By the two week mark, Steve was literally itching to be closer. He paced outside the door for ten minutes while he waited for Wayne to leave, grateful that the kids had all been brought up to volunteer at the school for the day and he would have at least a minute alone with Eddie without interruption.

Wayne opened the door and smirked at Steve. “Surprised you’ve been this patient. He’s about ready to pull out his IV in there, so you better hurry up and hold his hand or somethin’.”

Steve didn’t reply, just pushed through the door and rushed to Eddie’s bed.

Eddie was, in fact, picking at the tape around his IV, like if he was given enough alone time he would tear it off and escape out the window.

“I know I’m not what you wanted-” Steve started, his hands balled into fists to resist reaching out before Eddie was ready. “But I promise I’m gonna try to be what you need. I don’t know how to yet, but I want to. And I desperately need to touch you. Like, just holding your hand is fine, but I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t so-”

“What do you mean you’re not what I wanted?” Eddie interrupted, casually sliding his hand into Steve’s. Both of them gasped at the spark, but the tension seemed to drain from both of them at the same time. “Why do you think that?”

“I mean, I’m sure I’m not really your type. And I mean, I know I’m not like I was in high school, but I let my friends do some shitty things to you then.” Steve looked down at their joined hands, perfectly fit together in a way he’d never had with anyone he’d been with before. “And I know you don’t think we’re a great match or whatever, but I think I’d like to do stuff with you all the time. If you’d want to.”

“Why do you think I think that?”

“Because you said you didn’t think you’d wanna do everything with your soulmate.”

Eddie seemed to realize what Steve was referring to as soon as Steve started to pull his hand away. His grip tightened and he shook his head.

“I didn’t mean that.” Eddie bit his lip. “I was scared that I would wanna do everything with you and you wouldn’t wanna do everything with me.”

“Eds, I love you. I wanna do everything with you, always.”

“You love me?” Eddie whispered.

Steve hadn’t meant to say it, but it’s not like he didn’t mean it, so he doubled down.

“Yeah. I do. I know it’s probably stupid, but I watched you give everything to protect us, I brought you back here almost dead, and ever since you woke up from surgery, I’ve watched you light up the room. I see how smart you are and how funny you are and how kind you are, even when you’re teasing someone. And I just. I love it. I love you.”

“Stevie-”

“I know you don’t love me. It’s okay. Maybe someday you will, maybe you won’t. Sometimes the soulmate shit is stupid, right? Fate gets it wrong or whatever.” Steve shrugged, tried to pull his hand free. He felt too vulnerable like this, standing by Eddie’s bed waiting for him to reject him. “But I just need you to know that fate got it right for me.”

“You don’t plan on following that up with a kiss?” Eddie finally asked after too long with just silence.

Steve’s mouth opened, closed, opened again as he tried to think of what to say or do.

“C’mere sweetheart. I think I owe you something,” Eddie smiled up at him as he tugged on his hand to get him closer.

Their first kiss was a lot like that first touch: overwhelming and scary, but electric and intense.

Filled with love.

When they broke apart, everything had shifted.

“I can’t wait to do everything with you, Stevie,” Eddie said before a knock on the door pulled them further apart.

Steve didn’t go far, just held his hand while the nurse looked over some of his bandages.

*****

When Eddie finally got out of the hospital, the first thing he did was tell everyone that Steve was his soulmate.

Wayne had already known, but went along with his dramatics because it’s what he was used to.

Robin had already known too after walking in on Steve sitting in Eddie’s lap, carefully braiding his hair while Eddie read to him. She didn’t even say anything, just sat down in the chair across from the bed and listened when Eddie started reading again.

After, she slapped Steve on the arm and told him to never hide shit from her again.

The kids took it well, though Mike and Dustin were pretty surprised they managed to hide it for so long.

Eddie still had a lot of healing to do.

But he did it with Steve by his side.

He did everything with Steve by his side.

When he made a sandwich, Steve was next to him, slicing the tomatoes.

When he was taking a shower, Steve was in it with him, or sitting on the toilet lid talking about his day.

When he was folding laundry, Steve was using dish detergent to get oil stains out of his jeans.

Every day was filled with moments together, and each moment was everything.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is wanting to do everything together #getting together #love confessions #soulmate au

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morningberriesao3 · 8 months

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As Sneaky Link comes to an end, it just means that I’ll get to work on some other fun projects that have been in my drafts for (literally) a year and a half.

The next multi chapter I’m working on is set back in the 80s. Only this time, it’s not Steve who spirals about his sexuality.

Eddie is straight—he’s just never met the right girl to feel that spark. But Steve over the last years has had a secret that he’s told no one. Not even Robin.

Until Eddie walks in on him in a very compromising position. With another man.

I started this fic as something we hardly see in the Steddie fandom—and that’s Steve being the certified queer, and Eddie having a full blown crisis as he figures himself out.

As promised, below the cut is the first 2.4K words of chapter 1, and in February it’ll be posted in its entirety on my ao3: morningberries

Enjoy 🥹

It was a chilly day in early September—the wind carrying half-brown leaves through the air in swirling patterns that looked like mini tornados. Eddie stared at them from his trailer’s living room window as Wayne’s truck disappeared beyond the bend in the road.

Another weekend alone as his uncle worked a double shift.

It’s not that Eddie didn’t have friends. There was Gareth and Jeff and Grant—the members from his beloved band Corroded Coffin—but he knew Jeff was on vacation with his parents before college started and Grant was working with his dad in the garage on that ’69 Mustang they picked up from the scrapyard over the summer. Gareth, although in Hawkins, had landed himself a hot new girlfriend and spent every waking moment with her.

Eddie couldn’t really blame him, even though he didn’t really get it.

It had been the same thing his whole life, if he was being honest with himself. Since middle school, he’d watch his friends start dating whatever chick they had a crush on, listen to them start yammering about how gorgeous she was or how cool or how smart. How she made them get butterflies in their stomachs, whatever the fuck that meant.

Yeah, cool.

Eddie had dated girls—some pretty cute ones at that. There was Sam, who he dated his second senior year, and they’d gotten along really well. She was what Eddie thought should probably be his type—dark hair, a lip ring, wore lipstick in blacks and unearthly blues. She was even in Hellfire Club and honestly kicked ass at it. Objectively, on paper, she was everything he wanted.

Except he didn’t feel it. Whatever it was. The fucking butterflies, or whatever.

When they broke up, it hadn’t really been the end of the world. He mourned their friendship more than the sexual aspect of their relationship, because Sam had been awesome to hang out with and smoke with and laugh with.

Gareth hadn’t believed Eddie when he said he was fine—took a solid 4 months before Gare actually accepted that Eddie’s heart wasn’t shattered.

Eddie cared more about… God, like, anything but dating. Like D&D, and his friends, and his guitar, and Metallica’s newest album, and making his fucking bed in the morning, and even his therapist. He knew it didn’t really help him look normal to be a twenty-year-old man who couldn’t care less about pursuing girls, but whatever. He was King Freak, after all.

When he met Chrissy six months ago, he thought for a moment that he might be able to convince himself to have a crush on her. It should be easy; a small, thin, blonde, pretty cheerleader is everyone’s type. Maybe he’d just been chasing after the wrong girls. But what he felt on the drive to his trailer with Chrissy in his front seat, as she timidly told him she thought he was kind and funny, was, again… not the fireworks he expected from all the stories of love at first sight.

And then she’d died, which vastly overshadowed Eddie’s worry that there might be something wrong with him for not developing feelings. He talked about both things in his weekly government mandated therapy sessions. But mostly about her death.

The doctor had told Eddie it wasn’t uncommon to have an aversion to romantic or sexual relationships after experiencing trauma. Eddie didn’t really bother to elaborate that it had started long before said trauma. But whatever.

He digressed.

Gareth had a girlfriend, and they spent their time making out and—apparently now—doing hands and mouth stuff. At least, that’s what Gareth had been bragging about at their last band practice. And, according to him, they were probably going to fuck on this weekend that Eddie was once again alone, so calling Gareth was completely off the table.

He sighed, standing from his uncle’s withered brown couch to walk the ten steps to his bedroom. He plucked his guitar from her hook on the wall, strummed a few chords without bothering to plug her in. If he was really going to talk about trauma responses and aversions, he might as well start with the one he developed for playing his guitar after the epic battle in the Upside Down.

Since the day he nearly bled out on the gravel outside of his trailer (that wasn’t really his trailer, because apparently alternate dimensions are, like, actually a thing), he hadn’t really been able to play anymore. It wasn’t some dramatic thing, like getting wild flashbacks of battling massive fucking hell-bats, or getting feasted on by their fang-filled mouths, or Dustin crying over him, or what if felt like when he literally died for four minutes before he was defibrillated. It was just this soft, but uncomfortable, feeling in his stomach, accompanied by massive brain fog, and a general lack of motivation to learn anything new.

He hung the guitar back where it belonged, in front of his mirror. The reflection that looked back at him looked… well, goddamn bored, for one. And a little anxious. And like he should probably try to reach out to some of his other friends.

There had been some silver linings to the whole everything-he’s-ever-known-about-the-world-has-been-a-lie thing. He did, now, have other friends. Dustin, for one, would hang out with him on days that weren’t D&D related. Although, Eddie was sure that a lot of that was because he had a working vehicle that could tow him around to the arcade, or the diner (where Eddie paid for Dustin’s meals, obviously), or the video store.

Eddie didn’t mind crashing Family Video, because more often than not, it meant he could visit his new age-appropriate friend.

Robin and Eddie had become attached at the hip, honestly. Best friends. Trauma bonded, or something. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that they were both losers, and somehow both smart and dumb at the same time. They also both talked a lot, and got excited over weird shit, and liked to rag on Dustin. So Eddie really took a liking to Robin.

And here was something that he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks.

Maybe he had a crush on her? It didn’t really sound right, but he did get excited when he got to see her, and his heartrate sometimes sped up when he went to family video and he first laid eyes on her talking to Steve, and maybe there was also a tinge of jealousy that settled in the pit of his stomach when he thought of how close they were. That had to mean something—meant something more than anything else he’d ever felt before.

He knew if Steve and Robin were going to get together, it more than likely would have already happened. But the thought still nagged on him a bit. He wouldn’t like it, and he couldn’t really put his finger on why. Having a crush on Robin was the only feasible explanation, really.

It was either that, or perhaps it was because Eddie was convinced that Steve hated him for some unknown reason.

Eddie tried to become friends with Steve during the aftermath of the Upside Down, and for a while it seemed like it was working. It seemed like Steve actually enjoyed Eddie’s company.

They’d hang out first with Rob, or Dustin. And then just by themselves. Steve even came to smoke up at the trailer once or twice, ended up crashing on Eddie’s couch. Steve used to smile at him, and nudge him in the shoulders like they were sharing some inside joke, or sling his arm around Eddie casually like they’d known each other for ages.

It always made Eddie feel like he was buzzing, like there was some sort of weight in his chest that spasmed and choked him. His therapist had said that it was probably some sort of satiation for his inner child, finally being accepted by someone who was deemed popular. Eddie hadn’t ever thought he cared about shit like that, but the subconscious was a mysterious place, he was coming to learn. Definitely explained the attachment he felt for Steve those first few months out of the hospital; the absolute giddiness he felt when they got to hang out.

But that was at the beginning. The start of July was when Eddie noticed Steve acting different towards him. Avoiding touch, and then eye contact, and then Eddie’s calls, and finally, just Eddie altogether.

The pit Eddie had felt in his stomach from losing Steve’s affection had been awful. He really thought they were becoming close, really thought it was the start of something. A really great friendship.

But Steve peaced out as quickly as he bonded with Eddie, apparently deciding now that they were back in the real world, they couldn’t really mingle anymore.

The bond they formed in the Upside Down was acceptable when they were actively monster hunting, but Eddie supposed now that things had somewhat calmed, reality started to crash into focus. Steve was still a jock; Eddie was still a freak. Therefore, no more sitting across from each other at Benny’s Diner.

That was Eddie’s theory, at least. When he’d ask Robin about it, she’d just shrugged her shoulders and said, “He hasn’t spoken badly about you. Like, at all. Seems like he likes you to me.”

Then, as if to prove his point, Steve would go all red when Eddie would stop by his work and go hide in the back room until the kids picked whatever Sci-Fi movie and piled back in Eddie’s van.

Whatever. It didn’t matter.

Eddie survived sans Steve before the Upside Down, he’d survive without him now.

He picked up the phone and dialed Robin’s number.

“Hello?”

“Rob,” Eddie greeted, a smile already forming on his face from hearing her raspy voice. “What are you up to?”

He could hear a snort from the other end of the line. He knew she was rolling her eyes. “On a Friday afternoon at five PM? Absolutely nothing, of course.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“Did it sound like sarcasm?”

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said, tucking the phone against his shoulder as he poured himself a mug of old drip coffee from this morning, “it very much did.”

“You’re getting better at social cues!” she mockingly praised.

“Watch it, Bucky. Don’t get too comfortable hiding behind that phone.”

“You’ll forget before the next time we see each other. I’m not too worried.”

Eddie sighed for what felt like the hundredth time since his uncle left the trailer. “Does that mean you can’t hang?”

The line crackled as Robin moved through her living room. Eddie could imagine her flopping on the couch, getting comfortable, her green phone glued to her ear with a big bowl of popcorn settled in her lap. “Noooott necessarily,” she drawled out. “Although, I know you’re not exactly fond of parties.”

Eddie furrowed his brow as he slid his mug onto the new microwave’s glass plate. He’d gotten it for Wayne’s birthday with some of the hush money the government had… well, hushed him with. Eddie had promised to keep his lips sealed when they flashed him the size of the cheque. Not like he had many people to tell, anyway.

“You’re going to a party?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding surprised. “Steve’s party? For his twentieth?”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “Steve’s having a party for his birthday?”

As far as he’d known, Steve said he was doing a quiet thing with his parents and his aunt that he didn’t even want to attend, and that was that. He’d just shrugged when Eddie pressed about celebrating with his friends, muttering something about it feeling weird to celebrate after everything that went down earlier in the year.

Which had been fair enough.

But now it was abundantly clear that Steve had been lying to Eddie. To keep him away.

“Uh, of course he is, Doofus. He told me you said you couldn’t come?”

Eddie, for some wild reason, felt his eyes pricking with tears. Out of anger or betrayal or confusion, he wasn’t really sure. It was dumb; he was tough, and he didn’t cry when jocks hated him ever before. So he swallowed them back down.

“Guess my plans changed,” he said, venom seeping into his tone. Fuck Steve and his master plan to keep Eddie from attending his dumb house party. “I’m coming.”

It seemed that Robin was totally oblivious to his anger as she squealed excitedly from the other end of the line. “Yay! Will you come pick me up then? It would be so much cooler to show up with a friend than have my mom drop me off in front of all the former popular kids of Hawkins High.”

“Why do you care about that shit?” Eddie asked, even though he knew it was hypocritical of him.

“Look, I know you’re totally unaffected by the social hierarchy, Eddie, but I’m unashamed to admit that it’ll feel kind of amazing to debut myself as Steve’s best friend, you know? And I’d rather do it in your shitty van than have my mother yelling that she loves me from the open window of her Honda Civic.”

“Don’t call ol’ Heffer shitty,” Eddie sulked. “It’s not good to bite the hand that feeds you. Or something like that.”

Eddie ignored that it didn’t feel great when Robin said she was Steve’s best friend. That heavy shadow of jealousy weighed down on him. He was unclear whether it was because he was jealous of Steve or Robin.

“Whatever,” Robin said, her voice laced with yet another eyeroll. “Pick me up at seven-thirty?”

Eddie nodded, his face still pulled into a scowl. When he realised Robin couldn’t see him, he shook his muddled brain and mumbled, “Uh—yeah. Seven-thirty. See you then.”

“Cool. See you soon, Doofus,” Robin sang. And then the line went dead.

#steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #eddie x steve #steve harrington #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #steddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #sneaky link ao3 #morningberriesao3 #morningberries #steve and eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington

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lillchris · 4 months

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You With The Dark Curls; You With The Water Colured Eyes (Two Shot)

Chapter Two: I'd Start a Riot Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: Title inspo from BANNERS song "Start A Riot" I will try and make this chapter, and future ones longer :) Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Stay Safe love you all <3

BANNERS song below in case you haven't listened to it, or want to! ;)

Start a Riot

TW: Angst, Swearing, anxiety and panic attack

Luckily when Paige walked back inside, Drew wasn't right there carping her with questions, which she was currently thankful for.

In fact, she didn't know what exactly to think of at the moment. All she could think about was everything Jalen had said in the course of their heated conversation. Even though she was angry with Jalen at the beginning of their discussion, she had tried to keep it civil. But screw it, it had escalated to anything but a civil conversation by the end of it all.

The fact that Jalen had the audacity to bring up her parent’s divorce was a very low blow, but yet in all the years that Paige had known him, it didn’t surprise her too much that he would make a comment like that, and it gave Paige yet another reason to never speak to Jalen again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the couch, Azzi was consumed in her own pool of thoughts.

She mentally kicked herself for not being able to give Jalen her full what for. She knew that if she somehow did now, it would make the situation worse, and that was the last thing Paige needed. However, in her mind, she hoped that sometime in the very near future the situation would arise where she could. She made a mental note and added Jalen to the list of people she wanted to bitch slap. and yes Azzi had a list, and by all means, he deserved it.

Azzi rose from the couch, silently, walking into the kitchen, eyeing her parents, who were still cleaning the kitchen. She kept her presence brief as she filled a glass with ice water, as she felt Tim and Katie’s eyes on her. She said nothing, only glancing at them as her parents frowned. It was one of those eyes that spoke more than words moments. Azzi’s expression and demeanor told her parents pretty much everything. They stayed quiet, as they watched their daughter walk away, before having a conversation of their own.

Azzi crouched down in front of Paige meeting her eye level with the couch as she handed her the glass of water.

Their eyes met, and something in Paige softened, as her best friend watched her face relax.

Azzi was always the one who could do that, no one else. She somehow made her feel at peace, even in moments when she felt like everything around her was crashing. She was there for her when she injured her ACL, there for her when she wanted to give up, physically and mentally in rehab, every time. She was there for her when Jalen had broken her heart, letting her cry. Azzi was her safe haven. Azzi had told Paige once, that she saved her, but in reality, it was vice versa. To her Azzi was the one who had truly saved her.

Flashback… (November 2022)

Why did this injury even have to happen? One season, please, an injury-free healthy season, that’s what she had hoped for. Longed for, Prayed for, asked God for, but He had different plans. Through the constant painful days of rehab Paige was really starting to wonder what that plan truly was.

“Six months” “Nine months” “Possibly up to a year maybe more.” That’s what she had heard over and over again from Orthopedic Specialists and doctors. “Oh your young and healthy! It might not take that long for recovery!” They’d say or “You should be thankful it isn’t worse.” She didn’t want sympathy or pity, she wanted to be out on the court, playing. Instead she had to watch from the sidelines as her teammates played games she would have been in too if it hadn’t been for this.

She fucking hated it. Being away from the court, being resentful towards her teammates, the jealousy, the envy all of it! She knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but the jealousy always crept in somehow.

Most of all she missed the court, even the sound. The way her shoes would squeak against the hardwood, or the way the rubber and layers upon layers of fiber felt in her hand as she gripped the basketball.

Ball was life, who was she without it if she couldn’t play? She didn’t mean it, but she also didn’t want to lie to herself and not acknowledge that half of that statement wasn’t true, because it was.

Paige mentally cursed herself as one of the therapists aided her in the usual “daily walk” they called it. It was supposed to be a towards the end of the day type of casual walk, but to Paige it was anything but casual. The walk was a fucking menace, as Paige felt every muscle in her right “good leg” burn as it tried to compensate for her bum left one.

She was about to curse out loud but the sound of Azzi’s voice stopped her from doing so. As she glanced over toward the hallway entrance she saw Azzi, her Azzi. Even though she had seen her two days prior, something in Paige always skipped when she saw her. She didn’t know what to root it to, the fact that she missed her or something else. All Paige knew was the she was elated to see her best friend, as even the presence of her encouraged Paige to keep going.

———————————————————————

“Paige! It’s your turn to give me my gift!”Drew said excitedly, snapping his big sister out of her daze, and back into the present moment.

“Oh uh yeah right!” Paige said with a slight smile as she got up from the couch and handed Drew his present.

Paige was trying to be as enthusiastic as she could that evening as everyone opened presents, but her efforts were in vain.

Azzi glanced over at Paige. She knew that the events from this morning were effecting Paige more than she knew, physically Paige was there with everyone, but mentally she was in another place.

Azzi said nothing, as she silently intertwined her fingers with Paige’s, in hopes to help keep her grounded in the moment despite the fact her mind was spiraling.

“Yes! This is exactly what I wanted! Thank you!”Drew said happily before engulfing his big sister in a tight embrace.

Drew was ecstatic about his present, due to the fact he now had a PlayStation Portal. He could easily play Fortnite virtually anywhere, without being tied to his console. Which in turn didn’t help his video game obsession, but Drew was happy and to Paige that’s all that mattered.

“You gotta open yours now.” Azzi said mustering up a smile as she handed Paige a small velvet box.

The content of the box contained a small sliver ring with the wording engraved on the front “My Ride Or Die”. Their initials ‘P&A’ engraved on the inside.

Paige smiled, and chuckled lightly before handing Azzi a slightly bigger velvet box.

Azzi gasped slightly, before laughing a little and smiling upon seeing the item.

Unironically enough, inside was an identical silver stylish bracelet with the same wording on the front and their initials, this time on the back.

"They really are soulmates." Jose whispered to Drew with a laugh making a heart hands toward the two girls jokingly.

"Now we're matching." Paige stated as she carefully placed the bracelet around Azzi's smaller wrist.

---------------------------------------------------

"Alright that's it for me I'm done, I already lost five hotels four houses, and seven hundred dollars. I'm practically broke." Paige says laughing as she sets her play piece on the Monopoly board.

"Yeah, I guess I'm out too, Drew drained me of all resources." Azzi says as she noogies Drew's head jokingly.

"Oh come on it's only 3am. You two are dropping out and going to bed like an old married couple." Jose teases as Paige and Azzi roll their eyes, and walk down the hall toward Azzi's bedroom.

Later that night, silence filled the bedroom as Azzi and Paige lay opposite the queen-sized mattress. They always shared a bed whenever Paige visited the Fudds, so it wasn't out of the norm for them to share a bed, but tonight something was different.

"You awake Paige?" Azzi asked curiously as she lay on her side, before glancing over at Paige who had her back facing her.

"Yeah, um I'm awake." Paige said vaguely not even turning around to face Azzi.

Tonight Paige was closed off like a butterfly, sheltered in the cacoon walls she had put up to protect herself, and no matter what Azzi did she couldn't get through to her. Azzi didn't blame Paige at all for being closed off, but she just wished that Paige would let her carry her burdens; together through all of this.

"You don't have to say anything but, if you do, I'm here to talk or just listen. I'm here; always."

Paige said nothing, but internally she felt like she was on the brink of drowning. All the air left her lungs as she felt as though she was barely keeping her head above water. Her ears felt as though they were burning, her mind was screaming at her. Paige felt as though her heart was beating out of her chest, feeling the ever-looming feeling of nausea rising in her throat. She didn't know what was happening to her. Her senses were shot through the roof, and it was only then did she realize her labored breathing could be heard by Azzi.

"Paige." Azzi's voice stretched out to her, but at this point, her friend was unreachable, as something threatened to pull her under. Take her away from the only thing, the only person who could possibly pull her from the waves she was being taken under by.

"Paige, it's me, Azzi, You're here with me, whatever you're experiencing right now, I'm here with you in this moment." Azzi said softly holding Paige's hand in a desperate attempt to somehow bring her back to this moment.

In Paige's mind, she could hear her best friend calling out to her, but the thoughts and dread that had surpassed her earlier in the day had become all too much for her.

"Paige, can you hear me? I need you to slow down your breathing, long inhales, and exhales."

Paige made slight eye contact with Azzi, despite her eyes still being hazy and glazed over. Her vision was blurry and she could barely make out the shape of Azzi's face, as her fast spurts of breathing threatened to cause her blackout.

"Paige, I can't have you hyperventilating do you remember the grounding techniques we learned in psychology class?

Azzi firmly set both hands on Paige's shoulders, Azzi was damn determined to bring Paige out of this.

"Whatever is happening to you right now, whatever you're thinking it isn't true, none of it is. Whatever Jalen said to you isn't true. Your are an amazing person, you are smart, and kind. Who you love or how you love does not make you less. Your my best friend, your beautiful, and more than deserving of being loved, and to love. Your past circumstances do not define you.

Those words seemed to break through to Paige, as she slowly came back to the present moment. Her vision cleared and she was finally able to see Azzi clearly, as her chocolate brown, gentle eyes stared back into Paige's blue ones.

"I-I." Paige started to say, but Azzi gently shushed her, and she practically collapsed into Azzi's embrace. Paige's walls fell down, and Azzi was there to catch her.

"Shhhh I know, it's okay. I've got you, it's okay you can let it out. "

It made Azzi's heartbreak knowing Paige probably had kept this, and a lot of things pent up for a while now. Paige was always the tough one, the strong one, the leader. She was always there for others, but no one was there for her, not truly at least. She never really had any way or anyone she could talk to about everything.

Don't get Azzi wrong, she loved Paige's family, but she always wondered why her parents split when she was so young. She knew it was a very sensitive subject for Paige, and she respected that, but her mind always wondered. Azzi recalled when had taken Psychology I, that the earliest a child could remember things was age three. While it was often spotty and vague, a child would start to remember.

Azzi hated the fact that Paige had no one to talk to about this matter and everything else in between. From that moment on, Azzi made a promise to herself; that she would be that somebody.

Paige's sobs subsided, as Azzi looked down at her, realizing she had fallen asleep in her arms, utterly drained and exhausted.

Azzi sighed, laying Paige in her bed again as she climbed in beside her, thankful now that she was finally sleeping peacefully. It was only when Azzi heard Paige's snoring that was she satisfied.

Paige cuddled up to Azzi, as she softly planted a kiss on Paige's forehead. Usually, Azzi would be annoyed by her snoring, but tonight it was a more than welcome gift.

a/n: That's it, I know that this chapter was a bit deeper, and had some sensitive topics, but I promise to have more fluff in the future!! As always I would love to hear what you all think! <3

#pazzi #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #fanfic #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi fanfic #uconn women’s basketball #paige buckets #wbb #fanfiction #wlw #love

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headless609 · 8 months

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Cartman Angst

Ah Cartman, the bigoted, racist, sexist, overweight, bully, bullied, and a victim. Cartman is my favorite character and it’s not just because he is hilarious. If you watch the show and really looks into it, you can see why Cartman acts the way he does. Let’s start with the obvious. Cartman is fat. We see the show make fun and jab at his weight sense season 1. We see side characters such as Liane and his eye doctor to the main characters aka Kyle, Stan and Kenny making fun of his weight. Especially Kyle. I don’t think people realize how fucking mean Kyle was to Cartman (and Cartman hadn’t even done anything evil yet btw). Kyle is always and stills calls Cartman ‘fatsss.’ Speaking of the earlier seasons, remember Cartman’s eye doctor? Y’know, the one who had no chill and continuously bullied Cartman by calling him porky and just being devious? Yeah him.

Next I want to talk about Cartman’s home life. And it’s bad, like it’s as bad as Kenny. Not only is Cartman quite poor but his dad is gone and his mom is a prostitute. Not only does Cartman not get scolded by his mom but his mom brings in men that are there for sex. Sound bad? Yeah, you can imagine a guy finding Cartman’s room. And you might think, ‘Dude, you’re reading into this way too seriously.’

We see that Cartman has been assaulted by his cousin and his Uncle, Jessie. We see this in Le Petite Tourette’s and in Fun with Veal. And this is just two of the many other occasions.

Everyone knows the episode Scott Tenorman Must Die, where Cartman snapped and went batshit crazy. But most people don’t remember the banned episode where we see Scott again. Where we learn a dark truth. Cartman and Scott were step-brothers, Cartman had killed his own father, the father he had cried himself to sleep wishing he’d come back. And when we see him admit that he’s crying because of him being half ginger to his friends, all I can think is , ‘ Really? After all the tears that your pillow soaks?’ But then you think, would you tell some kids that have always bullied you because of your weight and you thought only hung out with you cause you bully people with them why you’re actually sad? HELL NO! Cartman may be crazy and a sociopath but he ain’t stupid. The reason he is able to stay with the gang is that they think he is cool (which they don’t) heck the only reason why they became a friend group was because Cartman bullied Pip! And with all that piled up, Cartman becomes insecure about himself and to make him feel better lashes out an everyone else, believing he is a victim in every scenario and everyone deserves to pay.

And that is the debrief of the monster, Eric Cartman. The most hated South Park child in the show.

There is so much I want to say about Cartman, and I tried to fit it in one Notes page. And I hate it whenever one says they hate Cartman because he is a nazi and all that shit. I understand, but please peel his onion skin and you’ll understand why Cartman is such a good character. This one is the longest one yet so thanks for those who were able to read the entire thing. 🥲

#art #south park #eric cartman #Cartman angst #I took schizophrenia art as representation

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bettyfrommars · 11 months

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Bloodstream

vampire!eddie x supernatural!fem!reader

from the Death Becomes Us au

18+ONLY, smut, period sex, (f) receiving oral while on their period, unprotected p in v, wet dream, blood, the pet name 'sweetheart', drinking blood.

wc: 3.4k

Reader in Death Becomes Us is also supernatural and has some physical scars that are mentioned in this. Eddie is her neighbor in a trailer park filled with vampires, in a town where vampires are basically a tourist attraction. Bits of these things are mentioned, but this can easily be enjoyed as a stand-alone.

ALSO, this is pure smut that does not progress the story one bit 😂 So, if you'd rather skip it, you won't miss any crucial information.

I've had several requests for vampire!eddie smut and, even more specifically, vampire!eddie with a reader who is on their period, and so this was born. I've had this sitting finished for so long, I wasn't sure I would post it.

You hadn’t realized you’d drifted off to sleep on the sofa in front of an episode of The Twilight Zone until a knock at the door made your adrenaline race into action. It was a dark, moonless night, and the only illumination in your trailer was from the television, a string of tiny pumpkin lights along the window, and a flickering candle on the counter in the kitchen.

The time on the VCR said 11:46 and you got to your feet with caution, figuring it had to be a vampire at the door—you just weren’t sure which one.

“It’s me. Eddie,” his voice was a mumble out on the porch.

The sound made your heart stutter.

“What do you want?” You asked, pausing with your hand on the doorknob so you could look out the peephole. He was standing back a ways, hands in his pockets, elbows out, and a black shirt unbuttoned down his chest. He looked particularly dressed up, as if he’d been hustling the unsuspecting wealthy widows down at the country club.

You watched him smirk at your question. “Can’t a neighbor come by and say hi? I saw your TV was on.”

You gave a quick glance down at what you were wearing, making sure you were decent, but also to make sure you didn’t have crumbs all over you from the dry cereal you were eating earlier.

“I haven’t seen you around all week,” you got flustered after you said it, not wanting it to sound like you were waiting around for him and counting the minutes.

“Yeah,” he gave his lips a generous lick, wetting them until they were shiny. “You realized I was gone? Does that mean you missed me?.”

There was no formal understanding or commitment between the two of you, but also, there was something unspoken that compelled you to worry about him when you didn’t see the whites of his eyes for a few days.

You opened the door and inclined your head, motioning for him to come in, and moved back so he could step in off the porch. You’d already invited him in once, and unless you rescinded that invite, he could technically come in whenever he wanted.

He waltzed in like he owned the place, picking up small things as he went to inspect them, looking around as if trying to catch you in the act of doing something. You were just about to offer him some of the NuBlood you had in your cabinet in the event of a vampire guest when he stopped abruptly and took a long, violent inhale, and held the breath in his puffed out chest.

His eyes narrowed on you and began to darken. He sniffed the air again, and then his eyelids fluttered a bit as if he’d caught a whiff of heaven. The tip of his tongue shot out from between his ejected fangs.

“It’s that time of the month huh?” He asked it very casually, like a doctor might, and at first you wondered what he was referring to, but then you felt a sudden wetness in your underwear and a pang from your uterus.

“You can smell it?” You asked, stepping away. “I didn’t even realize that I—”

“You just started,” he told you in the same matter-of-fact way, turning on his heel. He walked over to the vanilla sugar candle, hoping it would mask the scent so that his cock wouldn’t come to attention right there in your trailer because his mouth was already watering. “Maybe I should come back another time,” he gripped the side of the counter so hard, he almost broke a piece of it off.

“Um, it’s okay, just, well, give me a second to—” you were about to walk by him on the way to the bathroom when his arm shot out as a barrier, catching you at your chest.

“No, stay,” he whispered. When your eyes met, you wondered if he was using that glamouring technique on you to make you do whatever he wanted, but then you remembered that you were impervious to vampire powers.

He took a step, closing the distance. You could see his abnormally slow heartbeat under the cold, pale, tattooed landscape of his throat. He tilted his chin up an inch as if exposing it more for you, watching with attentive eyes as you drank in the curve from his jaw to his neck, to the collar of his shirt.

“Like what you see?” Cocky and bold as ever, but this time, he was really asking. He really wanted to know.

You ignored his question, searching his face. “Why haven’t we ever kissed before?”

He choked at that abrupt outburst and attempted to smirk, but then cleared his throat. “Would you like to change that, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you stepped so that your leg was touching his, and his plump pink lips parted, eyelids drooping, anticipating your next move. Eddie opened himself up to you, pulling his shoulder blades back so that you could have his chest and throat, accepting whatever offer you had in mind.

"You're so cold," you mused, and then you were moving in, putting your warm mouth to his throat, relishing the smooth, cool flesh on your lips. You flicked your tongue out to make him groan a little, his hands moving to dig his fingers into your hips. He smelled like Ivory bar soap and fresh earth and vanilla musk, with those soft, nicotine undertones.

“I might be on the verge of melting,” he slid one hand between your legs and the damp heat that was building there. You nipped at his cool skin, sucking it through your teeth, while your hands worked up his ribs to find his nipples with your thumbs.

“I was wondering when you’d finally take advantage of me,” he offered a low chuckle. The laugh had a bit of nervousness in it, though, and his voice cracked at the end.

You could feel the vibration from his sound, licking a stripe up until you found his chin. He dropped his head, catching your mouth with his, and there was nothing practiced or cautious about the kiss—it was messy and desperate, and his ringed fingers found a home between your legs, making you moan.

The blood was seeping through your clothes, and for sure there was a stain through the material of your sweats by now.

“Your smell is making my mouth water,” he broke free from the kiss to put his forehead to yours, but his fingers continued moving in circles on the right spot. You blinked up to find that his eyes were closed. “It’s probably not a good idea for me to be here right now," he bit out, reluctantly.

But he didn’t move, and you curled your thumbs into his belt loops to catch him if he tried. He rolled his forehead back and forth across yours, making your noses brush while the pads of his fingers applied more pressure.

“Have you ever—” you trailed off, words catching in your throat as his hand breach the elastic of your bottoms. “---done this while someone was on their—-”

Eddie paused with his fingers on the skin of your lower belly, making their way down. He pulled his head back to get a read on your facial expression, but you were one of the few people in the world that was a mystery to him. “I’ve never had the pleasure.”

“Won’t it be…messy?”

“I like messy,” and then he chomped his teeth, biting the air between the two of you, before moving in to find your lips again, cupping the side of your face with his hand. His mouth did not close in on yours fully, but the tip of his tongue came out to catch your top lip.

You were up against the kitchen counter now, and you latched onto Eddie’s strong arm, encouraging his hand further down. You gave a muffled cry into his mouth when the pads of his fingers found the wetness seeping through your underwear.

It was too wet to be pure arousal, and just then the coppery tang scent hit the air, making Eddie suck in a sharp breath. “Blood from the uterus lining is some of the sweetest there is,” he growled the words, bypassing your underwear so that he could dip a finger down through your folds, rings clicking together. You pulled down on his arm like a lever until one of his fingers was sinking inside of you, making you gasp. Your walls clenched him, and you begged for another finger, “more,” so he obliged.

“The way you’re gripping around me—fuck,” Eddie said against your lips.

Your knees trembled as he fucked his fingers in you a few times, twisting them, curling them in deep, and then he started to pull out, slowly.

His eyes were pure black when his lids flicked open; tips of his fangs peeking out from between parted lips.

He brought his fingers up into view, and they were glistening with your crimson gift, dripping down his knuckles, and he admired the sight. You wondered what he would do, at first, but then you watched those digits disappear deep into his mouth, lips sealing around them at the base.

He swallowed a few times, and then sucked each one individually, cleaning up the drips on his hand with a greedy, quick tongue. When he was done, there were signs of his feast in the corners of his mouth, and in the shadowy flicker from the candle flame, it looked like he’d just devoured something smothered in barbeque sauce.

“You taste so good,” he breathed, forehead on yours again, his hands making fists in the material of your sweats, arm muscles tense, using all of his willpower not to rip them from your body. His tongue lashed out, tip beckoning in little curls, and you met the need with your own, tasting yourself on him.

It didn’t take long for you to be on the sofa in the living room with your sweats off and Eddie kneeling between your spread legs; a multitude of scars from ankles to hips on full display. He looked up at you first, eyes a pure, marble black, and you nodded, scooting hips forward so he could push your legs further apart.

A bit of tinted drool shone at the edge of his chin as his mouth found the mound of your arousal over your underwear, licking and sucking over the fabric, tasting you, nipping with his teeth. His tongue flattened out and dragged long and hard up your slit, making you cry out under your breath.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, sucking your bottom lip in through your teeth. Your pussy was literally aching for him, throbbing under the weight of his licks.

You had a hungry vampire between your legs, and he could snap your leg off at the hip like a twig if he wanted to. He could bite down on your femoral artery and drain you without breaking a sweat.

Your menstrual juices were painting his chin when he sat back to pull your underwear off and get rid of the final barrier, staring up at you as he did so. You sat forward, and he thought maybe you were going to push him off, but you held his head with both of your hands, guiding him in. “I want to cum in your mouth.”

His head lowered without pause, with the tremble of a grin on his soft lips, and he kissed your cunt first before you felt his tongue sink into your hole. Low moans were coming from deep in his chest as he fed, taking generous swallows. You rocked your hips up against his face and held his head there, whining when he moved his mouth up to roll his tongue in circles over your clit.

“Oh god, Eddie, oh fuck,” you shuddered.

He’d been starving for you for so long, not only for your blood, but for your scent, your pheromones, your taste. He wanted to kiss you from the inside out, he wanted to swallow you whole again and again, and still have you left over. He wanted you to know his secrets, to see the darkness in him and not be afraid.

You pushed his mouth off of you, for a second, to find that he was panting and pussy drunk, and you could see your reflection in his two black pools. You ran your thumb down his lips, catching the mess, and then pushed the thumb into his mouth, and he moaned, closing his eyes to suck it clean, one sharp fang dragging along your flesh.

You locked eyes with him, jaw going slack, and he dropped back down again to draw a few deliberate licks through your folds, fingers digging into your thighs.

With a gust of determination, he decided to switch the position. Eddie went to his back, flat on the ground, and pulled you with him so that you were on your knees above his head, straddling his shoulders.

Staring up at your pussy, he buried two of his fingers into you again and muttered, “god, you’re so fucking beautiful open wide for me like this.” He watched your hole spread out as a drip of blood rolled down his palm.

“Sit down,” he murmured, removing his fingers so that you whimpered, clenching on nothing. “Sit all the way down, pull all your weight on me, sweetheart.”

He coaxed you where he wanted you, his strong hands firm at your hips. You went down until you could feel his nose nestled at your clit and then his tongue darted inside of you with supernatural force. He fed on you for a few seconds, and then he was sucking at your bundle of nerves again, humming as he did so.

“Eddie! That’s—I’m so close,” you rolled your hips and grabbed some of his hair in your fist, making him mumble with pleasure. You braced your other hand on the ground at his shoulder to anchor yourself, even though you knew he had the strength to hold you. You were all but suffocating him now, bucking against his face.

Eddie could feel your sweet bud under his tongue get hard and he knew you were close. His cock twitched in anticipation, leaking arousal in his jeans.

“I’m gonna cum…fuck, I’m cumming!” It was then that the velvet walls began to crash around you, and your hole rippled at his chin. You arched back and released into his mouth, losing control. Between the cum and the blood, you felt like he owned a part of you know—you’d given him a potent cocktail that no one else would ever know the pleasure of.

He didn’t want anyone else to know the pleasure of it.

He let out a sound that was part man, part beast, and pulled the cheeks of your ass apart so that he could retrieve every drop from your slit, slurping as he did so. He drank while you came back to earth, trembling, moving your core back and forth over his face.

You went to crawl off, to move away and give him some air, but he locked you in place. “I’m not done,” his voice was muffled. You giggled at the sound of his lips smacking, but then you quivered at the way he continued to lap at your slit .

Once his grip loosened, you moved to get off of him completely, but he coaxed you back to sit on his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

When he lifted his head up, his chocolate eyes were human again, his pale skin smeared with blood; down his chin, across his cheeks, even the tip of his nose. He bit down on his bottom lip and sucked it through to catch some of the excess, giving a contented sigh.

You reached behind you to feel the outline of his cock straining in his denim.

“Yeah?” He asked, searching your face as he moved to undo his belt buckle. “You want that?”

You nodded, at a loss for words at what was happening. Once you heard his jeans unzip, you sent your hand down to breach the elastic of his boxers, salivating when you found the wet tip. “Can I?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie reach down over your legs to push his jeans down further, releasing the thick, hard length. “You don’t even have to ask.”

He lifted his head to watch you line his cock up with your dripping hole, and when you began to ease down, your warm, wet walls contracted around the head and Eddie hissed. Your mouth opened as you sank, needing the way he stretched you out to the point that it was almost painful.

You gasped as you bottomed out, meeting his hooded gaze.

“You know, you can have this whenever you want,” he breathed. “This is all yours.”

“All mine? No one else’s?” You were riding him now, teasing him at the tip with a few muscle clenches before dropping all the way down again.

You lowered your torso so that your bodies were pressed together and Eddie bucked up into you deep and slow a few times.

Your lips were an inch or two away from his, and you watched his eyes go black again as another hunger seized him. “Tell me,” you pushed. “Tell me that you belong to me now,” you purred.

Somehow, you could feel another orgasm mounting when the smell of your blood on his lips crowded your senses.

He slotted one hand at your jaw, thumb cradling your ear, and with the other, he coaxed your hips down to take him deeper, and his thrusts snapped up to meet you.

“I’ve always been yours,” he whispered it around a hard swallow, just before your mouth came crashing down, tasting yourself on him, wanting to inhale his words so they could feed you in a different way. There were tears building for some reason, and you blinked your eyes open to meet his gaze, to see if he was emotional too.

And then, you woke up.

It took you a full minute to adjust to the harsh, unwelcome morning light as you became aware of the full sun exposure of your bedroom.

You coughed a few times, feeling the wind get literally knocked out of you when you realized the truth of the situation.

You’d had too many vampire Eddie sex dreams to count at that point, ever since you’d ingested his blood that night after you were attacked, but this one in particular left your heart heavy and your pussy aching.

Normally, you’d have to reach for your vibrator to finish yourself off when you woke up from the throes of one of those wet dreams, but this time, you only felt sad, and the desire for pleasure was gone as soon as you adjusted to reality.

You hadn’t fallen asleep in front of the tv, Eddie had never come knocking, and the two of you had never so much as kissed. You also had not caught a glimpse of him in over a week, since he’d taken you to visit Sacrament, the vampire bar in The Upside Down. You’d seen a different car at his place a few times, probably just popping in to take care of his cat, but other than that—nothing.

You wondered where he went at night, and you wondered if he ever thought of you.

In real life, you wanted nothing to do with him, but these vampire-blood induced dreams were really starting to mess with the integrity of your resolve.

Also, you realized that you’d just started your period.

You stood wearily from your bedside and carried the remnants of a familiar disappointment with you to the bathroom, and then the kitchen, angling for some coffee to make it better. You poured water into the Brewmaster you found at a thrift store and flipped it on to percolate while you went to water your one plant in the window.

Your eyes lifted groggily to look outside as you hydrated your potted friend and noticed that Eddie’s GTO was parked out front of his place. The blackout curtains to his trailer were all pulled shut so tight, you couldn’t get a glimpse inside, so at least you knew he was home.

Suddenly, you were flooded with a sexually frustrated irritation that made you curse his name into the void.

Part 7

#vampire!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson series #eddie munson smut #period sex #tw: blood #vampire sex #Death Becomes Us #True blood au #vampire eddie munson #Spotify

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nova-is-a-writer-now · 11 days

Text

Hidden embers

Chapter 5

Chapter summary: You and Joel have a much needed conversation to try and fix things, key word “try.”

A/N: Hi hellooo it’s hidden embers Wednesday (BETTER LATE THAN NEVER). Writing this story is genuinely bringing me so much joy, I’m glad you guys are enjoying reading it as much as i am enjoying creating this world. If you haven’t figured it out yet, this story is much more about the plot than it is about smut or fluff, so if that’s what you’re here for, you’re gonna have to be patient (it’s gonna be worth it i promise!!) Again, tysm for the support on this, the comments make me so so happy and motivate me to keep writing this, much appreciated 🤍

Warnings: No outbreak AU, no use of y/n, no sarah, Age gap, DBF!Joel, Slow burn, a tiny bit of angst, Mean!Joel if you squint

Series masterlist

You’re in a shit mood. Have been for a while, though you refuse to dig too deep to pinpoint when it started. It might’ve been around the time Joel kicked you out of his house, but honestly, it’s inconsequential.

The point is, your mood’s been sour for the past week, and this stupid boot you have to wear for your sprained ankle isn’t helping. What really pisses you off is the doctor saying that if you hadn’t walked on it, it’d be a grade 1 sprain instead of a grade 2.

‘Cause what the fuck does he know about why you refused that car ride home? What does he know about the churning, boiling anger twisting in your gut every time you hear the name Joel Miller? And then, to make it all worse, he had to recommend two weeks of bed rest so your ankle could heal properly and as fast as possible. Safe to say that doctor isn’t exactly on your list of favorite people right now.

On top of that, your mother’s been parading you around like a prized pony all week, forcing you to sit through those never-ending pageant meetings she insists on holding at the house. It’s like she’s playing the role of a doting, concerned mother in front of her friends, fussing over you as if you’re some fragile doll. Which is funny because you’ve told her on multiple occasions you’d rather stay in bed and rest your ankle than get dragged downstairs while on crutches, yet she insists on how rude it would be to not come greet the guests.

Thankfully, today’s a bit different. She’s gone out to scout venues for the pageant, leaving you in the care of your dad. Normally, you’d be relieved by that, but not today. Not when you overhear him on the phone inviting Joel over to watch the Cowboys game.

“Oh good, you’re up. Joel’s coming over,” your dad says with a grin as you make your way slowly towards the living room couch. “Figured we could all watch the game together. Like old times.”

You’re not a massive football fan, never have been, but watching the games with your dad was always something you enjoyed. It was your thing. Now, the thought of sharing that time with Joel makes your blood boil. Sure, he’s been doing this with your dad way longer than you have, but the last thing you need this week is Joel sitting next to you like nothing happened, like the astronaut-looking boot immobilizing your foot isn’t a constant reminder of why the injury got so bad in the first place. He might not be at fault for you walking all the way back home, but he’s certainly to blame for making you angry enough to do it.

The tightening knot in your chest isn’t just about what happened—though that certainly adds fuel to the fire—it’s about the mess of emotions you’ve been grappling with ever since. You’ve always prided yourself on being mature, on handling things with a level head and a clear mind. You’re the one who’s got it all together, the one people turn to when they need advice or a shoulder to lean on. But when it comes to Joel, all that goes out the window. You find yourself acting in a way you never have, even as a teenager.

You hate that you care this much, that his actions affect you so deeply, and that you can’t just brush it off like you do with everything else. You hate that what he is doing —the sudden coldness and firm boundaries— are probably the right thing for him to do. Hell, you even respect him for it, in a twisted way. He’s keeping a polite distance from his best friend's daughter, and it makes it that much more pathetic that it upsets you so much. His rejection, no matter how justified, still stings like a slap to the face, and the way he went about it, so abrupt and dismissive, only adds salt to the wound.

But it’s more than just anger at him. It’s anger at yourself, too. For feeling this way. For letting it get to you. For wanting something that you know you shouldn’t, something that feels wrong on so many levels. You can’t help but feel a creeping sense of shame, like you’re betraying the version of yourself that you’ve always tried to be—strong, independent, unshakeable. And yet, here you are, feeling small and foolish because of a man’s mixed signals.

You’re used to being in control of your emotions, but this? This is new, uncharted territory, and you don’t know how to navigate it without crashing and burning. So, you do the only thing you can think of: you shut down. You sweep all those feelings under the rug, acting like nothing happened and doing your absolute best to avoid Joel as much as possible. Because if you can’t be the strong, composed woman you’ve always tried to be, you can at least be the one in control of this situation, even if it’s just on the surface.

“I don’t know, Dad,” you start, trying to keep your voice casual. “I’m not really feeling up to it today. Maybe you two could just watch it without me?”

He gives you a look, that ‘puppy lefton on the side of the road’ look he always uses to get you to do whatever he wants. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’ll be fun. Besides, you’ve been cooped up all week. You need a little excitement.”

Excitement is the opposite of what you need right now. Maybe a day of peace and quiet would fix every single issue in your life, but there’s no arguing with him, not when he’s already so excited about it. So, you force a smile and nod. “Alright, I’ll watch.”

But as soon as you hear Joel’s truck pull up in the driveway, that forced smile slips off your face. When he walks through the door, it takes every ounce of willpower not to roll your eyes. He’s all smiles, greeting your dad with a hearty handshake, but when his gaze lands on you, it’s different. There’s a flicker of something—concern, maybe something else—but you don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.

“Hey, kid,” he says, all casual-like, as if nothing ever happened.

“Joel,” you reply, your tone clipped, arms crossed as you turn back to the TV.

Your dad, oblivious as always, doesn’t notice the tension crackling in the air between you and Joel. He’s already settling into his recliner on your right, meaning Joel will have to sit to your left on the couch. You try to muster up the polite Southern girl your parents raised you to be, but your patience is thinning by the second, and you feel like a time bomb ticking away.

You do your best to ignore him. The game’s playing on the TV but your mind is far from focused on it. Your dad seems deep into it though, and for a second, you almost think Joel is, too. But then, out of nowhere, you feel his eyes on you.

“Didn’t think Presscott had it in him this season,” Joel says casually, trying to draw you in. His voice is low, familiar. He’s not even looking at you directly, just tossing the comment out there like he’s fishing for an easy reply.

You shrug without taking your eyes off the screen. “Guess we’ll see.”

The silence that follows isn’t comfortable, nothing like the ones you two have shared before. Even though you know you’re being short with him, you can’t stop yourself. It’s easier to keep things shallow, to avoid any real conversation, because if you let him in—if you let the words flow—the dam will break, and you’re not ready for that. Not here. Not with your dad in the room.

Joel doesn’t give up, though. “I remember last season your dad nearly threw the remote through the TV” he says, chuckling softly. “Thought he was gonna lose it when they botched that fourth-quarter drive.”

He’s trying to be light, trying to break the tension, but it grates on you. You force a laugh, but it’s hollow. “Yeah. Funny.”

You glance over at him, just briefly, and catch the way his brow furrows. It’s like he’s trying to gauge where you’re at, trying to figure out how to soften you up —the reason why he's so interested in doing so right now is beyond you. You can see the conflict there, the way he’s holding back—just like you are—but neither of you is willing to be the first to crack.

“How’s the um…” Joel starts again, voice softer now, “how’s the ankle? Healing alright?”

It’s such a simple question, but it feels like a loaded one. You swallow hard, the anger bubbling up in your chest. “Just peachy.” you say through gritted teeth, still not looking at him. “Let’s watch the game.”

Joel shifts beside you. You can feel him trying, can sense the struggle in him to connect in some way, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. Not after the week you’ve had, not after the way he’s been messing with your head.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you almost think he’s given up—until he tries again. “Look, I know we haven’t talked since—” he starts, but you cut him off with a sharp shake of your head.

“Drop it, Joel,” you mutter, so low your dad can’t hear. You still don’t meet his eyes. “Not now.”

Joel lets out a breath, and you feel the tension between you tighten, like a rope pulling tighter and tighter with every second that passes. He falls silent again, and for a while, the only sounds in the room are the commentators on the TV and your dad’s occasional cheers or groans at the game.

But it doesn’t feel over. The conversation, the tension, the unsaid words—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface, and you know it’s only a matter of time before something gives.

At halftime, your dad stands up to stretch his legs. You’re almost relieved when he breaks the silence, muttering something about his age. Joel laughs stiffly before replying with a quiet “Ditto.”

“I ran into Maryanne the other day, you know, the one from down the street. She was askin’ after you.” your dad says, grinning like it’s nothing. “Wanted to know if you ever got her message. You planning on callin’ her back?”

Joel hesitates, and you catch the slight shift in his posture from the corner of your eye. Your dad’s words hang in the air like a loaded gun, and suddenly, the room feels too small, too stifling.

Your stomach twists. Without thinking, you stand up abruptly, ignoring the sharp pang in your ankle as you do. “I need some air,” you mutter, voice clipped.

“Hey! Use the crutches kid, doctor said you still need ‘em.” Your dad calls after you.

“I’m fine dad, I’ll be out for just a second.” you don’t bother looking back as you make long strides towards the door.

You make it to the porch, the cool air doing little to calm the storm raging inside you. You lean against the railing, gripping it so hard your knuckles turn white. You’re furious—furious at him, at yourself, at this whole damn situation. How did you let it get this far? How did you let Joel Miller, of all people, get under your skin like this?

Minutes pass before you hear the door creak open behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is. You can feel his presence, heavy and familiar. He’s quiet as he steps out onto the porch, giving you a little space, like he knows better than to push his luck right now. You only hear him setting the crutches up against the railing, next to where you stand.

“You alright?” he asks, his voice rougher now, not as soft as it was earlier. There’s a wariness to it, like he’s testing the waters, unsure of how far he can go.

You don’t turn to look at him. “Let’s not do this.”

“Do what?”

“Acting like you care while I act like I don’t.”

He shifts behind you, and you can hear the hesitation in his breath before he responds. “I do.”

You huff out a bitter laugh. “Funny way of showing it.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you hate how the silence stretches between you, filling the space with all the things you’re not saying. Finally, he steps closer, but not too close—just enough that you can feel his presence at your back.

“I’m sorry for last week. It wasn’t right, I was… in a mood. Had nothing to do with you.” The lie is heavy on his lips, you can tell even though you haven’t known him long enough to figure out all his tells.

“Seems like it had a lot to do with me, couldn’t wait to get me out of there.” You’re being petty, you know. But he’s pushing you and you can only be patient for so long.

“Don't be like that…”

“So, how’s the whole gardening thing working out for you?” you press him, pumping the brattiness up a notch.

He stares at you, a glimmer of frustration rising in his eyes. “About as well as ignoring doctor’s orders to rest your ankle, I’d imagine.”

You narrow your eyes at him, resisting the urge to snap back. “I’m doing just fine, thanks.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he mutters, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re real good at takin’ care of yourself.”

Your jaw tightens, but you keep your voice steady. “I don’t need someone to babysit me.”

“That what you think I’m doin’?” He steps a little closer, his voice dropping lower, almost challenging. “Babysittin’?”

You look away, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to hold. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Joel. One minute you’re... I don’t even know, and the next you’re pushing me away.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Maybe I’m just tryin’ to do the right thing.”

“By keeping me at arms length?” you ask, finally turning to look at him again. There’s a vulnerability in your voice that you hate, but it slips out anyway.

“By not makin’ things harder than they need to be,” he says, his tone softening slightly, though there’s still a hint of frustration there.

You sigh, the fight draining out of you. “Yeah, well, it’s clearly not working out great.”

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with all the things neither of you is willing to say. But there’s a shift in the air, a slight easing of the tension that’s been coiling between you both.

“Look,” he says after a moment, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to… I just—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever half-assed apology he’s about to offer. “We’re fine.”

He nods, though you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. “Yeah. We’re fine.”

You both stand there for a few more seconds, the conversation lingering in the air like smoke, not fully dissipating but not choking you either.

“Guess we should head back in,” you finally say, breaking the silence. Your voice is calmer now, the anger simmering down to a low burn.

“Yeah,” he agrees, stepping back to give you space. “We should.”

You turn to head inside—using your crutches this time— and for a brief moment, your shoulder brushes against his. The contact is brief, almost accidental, but it sends a jolt through you. Neither of you acknowledges it, but the feeling lingers as you walk back into the house.

As you settle back into the living room, there’s still an odd tension between you, something unspoken that neither of you wants to touch. The game is back on, and you both pretend to watch, but your thoughts are elsewhere, circling around everything that was just said—and everything that wasn’t.

It’s not perfect, and it’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s better than before. The air is clearer, if only slightly, and though the weird vibes linger, you both settle into a truce of sorts.

For now, it’ll have to be enough.

Tag list: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @untamedheart81 , @mellymbee , @wintersquirrel , @chyannealaniz , @spiderman-n-n, @ghostofzion , @sjc7542 , @yyiikes , @pedrofan

#joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #tlou joel #joel the last of us #hidden embers

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valiantartwritingweasel · 2 months

Text

Infatuation ❦

The slowest slowburn that ever burned. (If you can even call this a romance)

When “reaction time of a turtle” and “I say three words a day” meet and they start to admire the other in odd ways you also have to squint to see it

Side note: English isn’t my first language and I’ve never written anything this long before

I know there’s a gazillion ways to portray Dottore but in this he’s pretty calm (and odd)

Gender neutral casual brainrot <3

TW: It’s boring and unreasonably long (almost 7k words man) and I lost the plot like three times

❦

The trip had been way longer than you had expected. You figured: ‘Hey just a few days’ but no, it had been weeks by now and to top it all off you were in a wildly different climate than what you were used to. The warm heavy air stood in stark contrast to the cool clear air back home. And of course there was the stark difference between your usual chillouts at the facility that stood in contrast to the overgrown jungle you were traversing right now.

You had been given a mission. The Doctor had given you the simple task of retrieving something that you could only describe as a “metal thingy”. Said thingy was now sitting neatly in your pocket as you stomped your way back through the dense forest. You wouldn’t call yourself angry. But you wouldn’t consider yourself calm either. Definitely agitated enough to mutter various disagreements to yourself. Laughable of him to call this task “simple”.

If his definition of “simple” was it, to have you follow some dusted old map that showed just enough trees and mountains to somewhat navigate the way to some old dusty ruins, only for you to then fight your way into said ruins, to be then met by various doors with fifehundredsixtyseven puzzle mechanisms to solve, to be then met by more enemies, then yea sure, it was simple indeed.

The whole thing was so hard to overcome that you had even wondered whether or not you were even supposed to come back alive or if he had just used an excuse to send you off to death for the heck of it. Fair guess maybe if you thought about the way your coworkers whispered about the man and his crazy ideas but you did find the metal thingy and it was too strictly guarded for you to take it as something as simple as “send that one to death for fun”. Again. Nothing about this had been simple.

There was nothing you could do about this now though. The job was done and, even though you needed four days for the task instead of two as he had asked of you, you were on your way back to the Port. The probability that someone had watched you during the task was incredibly high too, now that you thought about it. Running was not really an option. Not that you really considered it anyway. Sure, the facility was strange and the vibes felt off sometimes but you kind of faulted your coworkers for you to think that way. They always spun the weirdest stories, similar to teenagers who had just found out that graveyards exist.

You shook the thoughts out of your head and straightened your back to look ahead of yourself. Figuring out how to get back was more important than those tales.

❦

Not only had you reached the Port with no further difficulties, as luck would have it the doctor hadn’t been there ever since you left. If luck chose to stay, then you had a good chance of Dottore not finding out about you exceeding the time limit at all! Not that you necessarily believed every rumor you had heard but that didn't mean that you had to test them yourself.

Instead of worrying about it, you spent your time at the Port in relaxation, leisurely strolling through the streets and eating some local delicacies. You had to admit that Sumeru had started to grow on you. If you ignored the insects and the crushing heat, it had some really pretty plants and buildings.

You also found a talent in befriending strangers and deeming them your new day-travel companions. You had spent the day doing just that and were just in the process of waving your new short-term friend goodbye as he sailed away from the Port and back to his nation. When you could barely make out his blue hair amidst the waves, you figured you could end your day as well. You turned around, only to be met by a person standing right behind you. “Oh” you coughed embarrassed as you glimpsed at their face. It was Dottore, just inches away from you. “You’re back” you choked out in surprise before you bowed your head a little. “Do you have it?” was his one simple question. “Yeah. Yes, it’s in my room”. A sharp “Get it” was all you needed. He was intimidating indeed. With another nod you took a step around him and hurried off to the house that you stayed at. He caught you so off guard that you had found it hard to focus on any other thoughts except the mission now. You were in and out of your room in mere seconds and were already running back to the docks with great speed.

Upon return you couldn’t spot his figure among the docks so you beelined for his ship instead. The scrap was sitting neatly in your hands and you were careful not to drop it.

You walked on board and wasted no time to enter his little office. He was sitting behind his desk, his hands neatly held beneath his chin. For a second you thought about the way he looked a little out of place in all the wood works around him but you shook your head and wasted no further thought on it. You walked towards him and held out your hands to place the thing on his table. “Here it is.” you eyed him with a hint of curiosity. Why was that thing so important to him? He reached out and took the thing into his hand to eye it before he mumbled “It’s a core”. His tone was…condescending. You could tell that he wasn’t impressed by the fact that you did absolutely nothing to understand what it was for in the first place. You coughed up a little air to cover up the embarrassment creeping up on you and nodded. He continued, “Did you run into trouble?”. His head shifted, indicating that he was, probably?, looking at you. “Well” you started, scratching your head, unsure whether or not you should lie about how much you had actually struggled “some here and there. It was pretty guarded.” He simply nodded before he shifted his attention back to the core at hand. “Dismissed.” You did a small courtly bow before turning to leave his office. You took a deep breath as soon as the door closed behind you. That went…okay. Not as bad as you thought it might. You exhaled the air and shook your head.

❦

The past few days had been a blur but the one thing that caught your attention was the way your superior had been switching his demeanor every now and then. He went from being calculated and calm to giggly and a little crazed. It was so weird. The shift was never dramatic but it was enough to make a grown man uncomfortable. And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Sometimes you could hear the soldiers whispering, always wondering and fantasizing about the reason for his behavioral change. Though, they spun the regular odd stories that sounded almost fanatical, so you paid them not much mind.

You were walking around the Docks when you caught a glimpse of the Doctor on his little boat. As if he had sensed your presence his mask matched your gaze and he waved you over immediately. If your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, he was smiling the smile that graced his features every now and then. An odd grin did he have. You sighed but made a point to not let it show on your expression before you walked towards the bridge. You had stepped foot on it and taken a solid two steps on deck before the boat started to move. Instinctively your hands took hold of the railing. Huh. It seemed like you were done around here. You looked towards the Docks as the ship slowly brought distance between itself and the port. The last thing you saw was a woman dressed in white and a thing floating next to her as they watched you sail away.

❦

The journey had been pretty boring. It was just you, some fatui soldiers and Dottore and no one was doing much for morale. You could’ve sworn that you once read something about pirates and how they always made sure to include entertainment on long journeys to ensure the mental well being of their crew. Well, this boat had no such policy. No one ever said a word and if they did then only in murmurs. Some of the soldiers just seemed on edge by the Doctor's presence, others just seemed uninterested. You were just bored.

It took a few days of being on the boat before you finally managed to convince a few soldiers to play cards with you. The day had been nice, the waves played in calm rythms and while the sun was out it wasn’t grilling you alive. Multiple soldiers had moved to the deck and were actually starting to enjoy themselves. You sat among them, in the midst of three soldiers, playing a round of OOH. The rules were pretty simple. You had to slap cards on the table and if you threw the right one you had to yell OOH. You had trouble remembering who came up with that. The soldier next to you had just slapped his cards on the table and was about to let out a glorious “OOH” when Dottore passed your table. As if on command, all four of you kept still with held breath as he passed by. Not only was it unusual to see the man outside of his quarters, it was also obvious that something wasn’t right. He was emanating a weird aura and it almost looked like he was vibrating. It was so odd..Everyone could tell that something was off. And suddenly, as if someone had struck him, the blue haired man crumbled into pieces adorned by dust.

It felt like everything stood still. Everyone's eyes were focused on the spot the man had been standing in. For a minute not even the waves uttered a word. Then chaos broke out and spread like a wildfire. Every third soldier on deck started yelling and accusing the other of treason. All you could do was stare at the crumbled pieces lying on the floor. What was going on? Did he just evaporate- The only thing that finally pulled you out of your shock was a chair that launched past your head. As if awoken by a splash of cold water you shot up from your seat and ducked away into your cabin while you tried to not get into the punchline of a soldier. You figured someone should stop and calm them down but you also figured that it wasn’t going to be you, so instead you locked your door and sat down on your bed. Blurring out the sound of the fight was easy but figuring out what event had just taken place was a hard one. To you it did look like he…died? And an even bigger question, if he had died, what was the cause of death?

❦

The rest of the trip had been awfully awkward and uncomfortable. Even more so than it had been before. After all, your superior had just disintegrated into thin air, leaving the rest of you without a leader. Of course the soldiers manned up, the fight hadn’t gone on for too long but the tension had been on edge ever since.

After the incident the tales about the Doctor had only grown even more ambiguous and fanatical in spirit. Some soldiers uttered rumors about a hitman, others blamed the gods, a fraction wondered if he simply had a stroke and a really small percentage told verses about his life potion juice running out. You paid no mind to them but did in fact wonder along with many: Who would have to pay for the sin of Dottore vanishing? Returning to his facility and having to say that you lost the second Harbinger sounded awfully insane.

So imagine how surprised you and your fellows had been when the man who welcomed you back at the facility docks had been none other than Dottore himself. He stood there in all of his glory, waiting for everyone to see him before he turned around and went back inside. He didn’t take the time to answer questions and everyone was ordered back to work. So all you could do was return to work, everyone feeling dumbfounded and exhausted. All of that ruckus for nothing.

❦

Days went by quite uneventful. The only thing of note you found out was the fact that it had been a known fact, and not a crazy tale, that the Doctor could, in fact, multiplicate himself. You also learned that he had apparently given those segment things up, so to say, which resulted in his copies “passing away”. No one of the attending boat crew had to die for their sins that day.

You had just thrown on your clothes, ready to face another hard day of making sure everyone was staying hydrated, when you were called into Dottores’ office. You wondered, like any other time it happened, why would he? But you shrugged it off, nodded to the informant and proceeded to make your way to the Doctor’s office (HA).

You knocked on the door. A low “come in” came in response. You opened the door, stepped inside and made sure to close the door before you walked fully into the room. Your eyes landed on the man sitting at his desk. He had one foot placed on his knee and his head placed on his hand while he held something in his free hand.

“Sit” It was a clear order that you followed by taking a seat on the free chair on the opposing side. With less distance between you, you could see that he was holding the core that you had retrieved for him weeks ago. “It’s useless” he said before he slammed the thing on the table. He slid it over to you harshly enough for it to make a nasty squeaking noise. He retracted his hand from the object and leaned back into his chair.

You had your hands in your lap and went stiff in your seat, staring at the core. Were you supposed to give an answer to that? You directed your gaze towards Dottore who was looking at you as if he was waiting for something. You choked down a little spit and answered “Why?”. Clearly you lacked in the thoughtful response department. He let out a sigh “It’s not powered. It doesn’t turn on. It’s useless”. You blinked at him and tried to shoot an apologetic smile “My bad. Is there something I can do to help with that?”. You weren’t sure if you read him right but he seemed to be somewhat satisfied with your answer. Or at the very least it looked like he accepted it as a valid one.

“Nothing you could do right now. I will call for you if that changes.” You nodded but he continued without wasting much time “Get me a coffee”. Taken off guard you let out a surprised “What?”. It took you a long second to remember your place and added “What kind?”. His short lived answer was “Just coffee.” before he waved you out.

You stood up so fast that you almost knocked your knee into the table. But you caught yourself and hurried out of his office and into the kitchen. The whole process of the art of coffee making went past you like a wind. You were used to the task but not to the receiver. Why were you suddenly on coffee duty for the Doctor? It was so odd. Him having an assistant like that had been rare. It was also odd that you had never seen the man as much as you had ever before over the course of the past few weeks. If you had to guess you’d say you’d have seen him like twice a year before that, and that for multiple years. Now you had even seen him die. Well, technically. You took a long exhausted breath while you rubbed your hand on your forehead. It was all so much, especially considering that being Dottores direct assistant probably carried much more weight and consequences with it than just being his subordinate's subordinate. With another deep breath you tried to ground yourself. The thought of having to spend less time with the fanatical workers around you didn’t seem all that bad at least. You took the cup of “just coffee” from the stove and made your way back, careful not to spill any.

He took the coffee without another word, only dismissing you with a wave of his hand.

❦

Ever since that day you had been in and out of Dottores office on a regular basis. At first it was delivering coffee, then it was messages and then it turned into you running medical files from one room to another and sorting through various of his documents. You could say that the job sounded important but most of the things you sorted through looked quite boring. Of course you never looked past page one but still, most of the headlines and titles sounded like they were about various diseases and financials, so really really really boring.

You had just put a ton of medical files into chronological order (the Doctor seemed so tidy and clean, why was it such a mess?) when you heard footsteps approaching. By the way they sounded, you could guess that it was the man himself walking into the room. You had memorized the pattern of his footsteps so well, you guessed right almost all the time. Prepared for the interaction you turned around and greeted the man with a bow of your head. He nodded in return and motioned for you to come with him. Then he turned around and walked out of the room. You, of course, followed suit, by now being used to following his silent orders without question.

You walked with him all the way back to his office, only to be met inside by the man you had mentally deemed the most annoying man you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Pantalone, the absolute chaotic man of unreasonably high expectations of the world and an unreasonably high drive to start yapping about it. You suppressed an eye roll at the way he greeted you with his fake little smile and his fake little wave and instead greeted him with a fake little smile and a fake little wave of your own. You figured both of you were aware that you detested each other. Dottore paid no mind to the interaction and placed himself behind his desk. He did not sit down but instead stood behind his chair. Pantalone made no move to sit down himself and stood across on the other side of the table, not even glancing at the chair placed before him. You crossed your arms and stood off to the sides. You would've been annoyed at their stupid nonverbal petty fight over who’s cooler, if you hadn’t been wondering about why you were even here in the first place. Sure, Dottore had wild ideas and weird tasks for you but their importance was never as high as listening in on two harbingers.

The man grinned a half crazed grin towards Pantolini and said “Let’s talk business”. And thus the most boring two hours of your life had begun.

Not only did you not understand more than half of the things the two men mentioned and argued about, you had also started to feel your heel painfully pushing into your leg. No matter what, you would never ever get used to standing around for such a long amount of time, especially not when that time was filled with awkward silence on your side and a strong yearning to step outside the room. Dottore had just been muttering down some reasoning when Pantalone cut him off. “This is not a risk worth taking. Think it through some more and then call for me again. As of now, I am not on board.” With those words he turned, gave you a courtesy fakey smile and sauntered out of the room. You watched him close the door with distaste. You did not stare for long as a sigh caught your ear and a loud metal clunking on wood directed your attention back to the Doctor. Your eyes wandered to his face and…you were looking at Dottores face. You were looking at Dottores' face. Yₒᵤ wₑᵣₑ ₗₒₒₖᵢₙg ₐₜ Dₒₜₜₒᵣₑₛ' fₐcₑ. You could not help but let a gasp leave your lips. It took much out of you to close your mouth in an orderly fashion. His eyes met yours. Much too enamored with his eyes and the burning red color of them, you failed to recognize the irritated expression on his features. He was staring daggers into your soul.

You came back to your senses by rapidly blinking the embarrassment off your face.

“He’s insufferable,” he muttered. You nodded in agreement. You didn’t listen enough to know what had bothered him about the man this time but you did overall agree with the statement. “Greedy, greedy, greedy man” he continued to mumble as he slid his mask to the side of the table before he sat down on his chair “Coffee”. You nodded again and hurried off into the kitchen. You were used to getting orders in short sentences now. He knew you knew what he meant seventy percent of the time and he knew that you actually had the courage to ask if you didn’t. Sure, he didn’t hold you to the standards of a genius but he held you to the standard of being honest and.. pretty normal. Which he found had always been hard to find, being the man that he was.

❦

Days had passed and you were seeing less and less of your coworkers. In turn you had spent much more time at the side of Dottore. You were still in your position of being his assistant. Nothing bad had happened to you ever since, contrary to some peoples’ belief, and you were even starting to have some sort of conversations with the blue haired man. It wasn’t all too much compared to general standards but in Dottores’ standards it was quite a lot. Though it was almost never a conversational exchange. Sometimes he just asked you a question that you had time to think about for the entire day and other times you made the mistake of asking him about one little thing he may take interest in only for him to go on a tangent about said thing for hours. He gave you access to so much knowledge and you disregarded half of it. Not that you didn’t care at all. You just couldn’t remember most of the things he said. You would've had to have some sort of degree in math and science to follow most of his monologues. But you liked listening to him. He had a unique voice and you enjoyed the sound of it.

He himself loved to talk about his interests, especially when talking about them made him seem like a smart man. Which it did. Most of the time. Sometimes, when you tried to listen and understand what he was getting at, he sounded so smart and eloquent one second, only for him to throw in some wild theories the next second, all while using the vocabulary of a madman. He was either serious or he enjoyed confusing you on purpose. Neither would surprise you.

You had also learned that, while yes the man seemed somewhat put together, he was indeed a little crazy as people had said. Both intentionally and subconsciously. Most of the time he tried to gaslight you into thinking he was normal but sometimes he couldn’t hide his little grin that reached his eyes in a crazy light whenever he thought a bit too hard about surpassing the gods. Which, oh right, you also found was a fair factor for you to deem him as at least unhinged in spirit. You sometimes thought back to the tales the people had spun about him and while you could see now why they had gained such popularity through the facility, you did not deem them to be fair assumptions about Dottore. He was odd and fairly annoying at times but not creepy. You respected him, of course, but sometimes you felt like you were a rich prince's butler, not the subordinate of a “mad and creepy” genius.

All of these thoughts and more were rushing through your head while you were once again watching Dottore fly around his lab. He was yapping about some nectar (or something?) while he played around with some chemicals. Or as he would call it, “conducted experimental research”. You were just off to the side, watching him swirl around while listening to his voice. Nothing else occupied your mind. Just you, Dottore and your thoughts in one room.

Dottore on the other hand, had sensed that you had been absent minded for a while. After he had started to talk about the process of mashing up cashews into soup, he knew with certainty that you weren’t paying attention to his words anymore. Yet your eyes were fixed on him. He still had your attention and that pleased him enough to keep yapping about whatever came to his mind.

❦

There was one day you remembered vividly. It could’ve easily been a boring day, easy to be forgotten and mushed in memory with all the other days. But the universe and all the stars that resided over you did not like that idea.

You had brought Dottore his seventh cup of coffee that day. A small voice in your head reminded you that more than five cups a day would be too much caffeine for one person but the last time you voiced those thoughts in the Doctors’ presence, he broke a pen. So you figured you wouldn’t do that again. The man had been on edge the entire day, brooding over something he disagreed with. You guessed that it had something to do with Panini but decided not to inquire about it further. You had never been on the receiving end of Dottores’ anger and you liked it to stay that way. His eyes were fixed on his desk and yours were fixed on his. He had stopped wearing his mask around you more frequently. Only when he needed you to focus on something else than his eyes did he put it on. And it worked.

Now he was bare faced and you were busy watching him, sitting on the chair in front of his desk and letting time pass by with great calm when he muttered “What’s the craziest thing you would do?”. So it was one of those days. You were distracted and answered with half of your mind intact. “You.” The questions he asked were always phrased somewhat simple minded but you liked to think about your answₑᵣₛ… Everything in your body stood still for a moment. Even your heart acted still, waiting for you to process your answer. The more the realization came through, the more your eyes widened. “ᵒʰ” the sound that left your lips was barely audible. You looked at Dottore and your eyes met his. He certainly looked pleased with your answer, the anger that had distorted his features before had resided. He looked… well definitely not as offended as you think he could potentially have been.

Initially he figured you’d come up with an interesting answer based on creativity, one that could help him take his mind off of things, not the quick unthoughtful one he had received. He could’ve argued that he didn’t like to be called crazy. But then again, who was he to argue now that you had helped him change the topics that had been plaquing mind?

❦

The grin that had plastered itself on Dottores’ features after your simple minded answer followed you into your dreams longer than just one night. The image of it sat deep in your mind and left you to wonder. It didn’t make him look cheerful nor did it make him look intimidating. The first adjective you would plaster on it would’ve been “desirable” but you felt odd just thinking the thought. You shook your head and stared at the ceiling. The only sound that hollowed through the room was an odd whirring noise that could be heard throughout most parts of the building. There was no clock in sight but you didn’t need one to know that you had been lying half awake throughout most of the night again. Which Dottore had been entirely at fault of. His grin was one thing but the man had assigned you to a new room as well. It was closer to his office and further away from the bustle of the facility. He successfully kept you away from the loud bustling of the other workers. In order to keep you focused or whatever. But you needed more time to get accustomed to the lack of voices that had always trailed past your door well past midnight, creating an unwelcome but familiar soundwave to fall asleep to. Without the ruckus outside everything had suddenly been too silent, making way for more room in your head which it could now fill with annoyingly loud thoughts that pestered you through the night. You groaned and pulled your pillow over your face after yet another mental image of that stupid harbinger. “How annoying” you muttered into your pillow before you rolled around to try and find a better sleeping position.

❦

While you had spent your time going through countless sleepless nights, it seemed that Dottore had not been affected at all. You hadn’t really been counting on him losing his shit over your previous comment but it was still a humbling experience to see him so overly calm and collected, no matter how deep of a look he took into your eyes.

Honestly, nothing had changed at all. Except for your eye bags of course but you had only yourself to blame for that. Neither your job nor Dottores’ attitude had changed.

Not until you had entered his lab one day, not without invitation of course, only to see him assemble something that looked like a…marionette? You figured that’s what it had been based on his older clones. You never knew the difference before the incident on the boat but since then you had once caught a glimpse of one singular unfinished clone lying around the lab. You hadn’t taken a closer look at it but the vague image of it still resided in your memory and it fit the image of the half assembled doll you had laid your eyes on that day. The Doctor, who had been standing next to the marionette, waved you over. Once you came close, he immediately put you to work, shoving various body parts and limbs into your arms before informing you about all the places you needed to attach them to.

While you had hardly been able to keep up with his instructions, you didn’t fail to notice that the doll did not look much like Dottore. Of course, it had no head but still you were sure it carried little to no resemblance. No, the doll did not resemble Dottore at all, you just couldn’t figure out who it it looked like instead. It seemed awfully familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on who exactly it reminded you of.

Nontheless you focused on your work, assembling the limbs with great caution.

Not once did you question his intentions. Any and all information you received, he had laid out on his own accord. And while yes, some might argue that that came from a lack of intelligence on your end, he felt like it came from a place of trust instead. You did not question his intentions because they did not seem a threat to you. All they were to you was just another task, another part of being his assistant.

He used to think he’d appreciate it if you had a more curious nature but after some time had passed the little curiosity you exhibited had been more than enough for him. You only asked questions when you were curious, never just to fill the silence. Sure, it had been disappointing to see you not take interest in his creations at all but he enjoyed knowing that you didn’t care. He enjoyed the authenticity. He had craved it ever since he was young, ever since people had started lying to him. But you never did. You never lied.

❦

More time had passed, although you had no way of telling how much time it had been exactly. You had quickly lost count of the days and never cared enough to ask. You had not seen any coworkers at all ever since you moved rooms but you honestly could barely care less. The last time you had crossed paths with one, it was a woman, one of those fanatics, she had whispered warnings to you. Warnings about the Doctor and his weird habits. You had half a mind to agree with her that, yes, the man had the oddest habits indeed, but you had mentally clocked out once she had started to mention his unstoppable desire to peel off the first layers of fat his victims carried under their skin as, according to her, that was what had granted him immortality. After that revelation you figured that you did not care if you would never come across any of your coworkers ever again. You understood why they were thrown off by their superior. Of course you did, you had spent most of your time with him by now, he was odd for sure. But you would never get used to their spooky tales about his person. Safe to say, you would gladly live without them.

The more you grew accustomed to your new life, the more satisfaction he experienced. He enjoyed watching you settle into your new life and he enjoyed your willingness to solve whatever problem he threw your way. Of course he would have to be careful not to overstep the line of using your talents to his advantage but weirdly enough he didn’t feel the need to do so. Your presence made him feel pleased enough as it was. To his surprise, he found that he did not want to jinx that. He liked having you close, without having to use an ounce of force for once.

You stayed out of your own will and he found peace in that.

❦

It had been months since he had recruited you into his close vicinity and he hadn’t regretted it once. He found that you were reliable, smart and talented with your hands. One time, it had been a few days ago, he had watched, mask placed on his features, as you carefully knitted another marionettes' limbs together. He found the way you moved your delicate fingers satisfying to watch. When you were done with your stitches he had carefully taken your hand in his own and moved it closer to his face as he inspected it. “Close enough”. He didn’t mean to say it out loud but he figured it didn’t matter. One look at you let him know that you were so distracted by his action, you clearly did not care about anything beyond that. He gave a sly grin as an answer to your awestruck expression. Then he placed a delicate kiss on your fingers before letting go of your hand. He proceeded to not waste more time on more unnecessary gestures and focused on inspecting the marionette instead. You had done excellent work on the limbs, much as he had expected. “Wait in my office” he mumbled the order absent mindedly while he was gazing down at the doll. He watched you leave through the corner of his eyes. Then, when you had finally closed the door of his lab, he picked up the marionette and carried it to a closet that he had kept locked for no one but him to see.

He opened it and placed the marionette next to the other few that had been in there. He hadn’t perfected any of them yet but he knew he was getting closer. Of course, the goal had initially been for him to reach higher levels of humanity but after he had lost all his process he felt inclined to be bored at the thought of doing it all over again with the exact same recipe to follow. But replicating someone else, well you, now that sounded interesting. Analyzing you had been a fun activity for him over the past weeks. You had many good qualities, good morals and a cute face. Which personally he did not care for but it did cross his mind once, so he figured that would be a popular opinion among others as well. Overall he felt that your presence, may it be through more individuals, would not cause as much terror as his own always had.

He closed the closet and locked it tight. Then he took off his mask and stepped towards the door to his office. He had already found out so much about the way you answered and thought about things, yet he felt inclined to find out even more.

You had been standing in his office for a minute or two. It bored you but recently you had found that most things did. After the minutes had passed the door opened and the Doctor came walking in, carrying a sense of purpose in his steps. The door closed easily behind him as he disregarded his mask on a nearby shelf, only for him to step towards you. You didn’t have much time to formulate any coherent thoughts or figure out a reaction to anything, as he had simply waltzed over, cupped your face in his hands and proceeded to place a calculated kiss on your lips.

Ever since that day, all the barriers of distance that may have stood between you two before were gone. Instead you had only spent more time at his side now and he had welcomed that change with a multitude of questions to ask you. Of course, sometimes he still digressed into monologues of his own, but he had found a liking in listening to your thought out answers and views as well. It surprised you but you didn’t mind. The only struggle you found with that had been the lack of stories you had in mind whenever you thought to answer with something from your life. Most of the stories you knew were about him after all and even those you barely remembered.

He seemed pleased with you either way though, so you figured it didn't really matter.

And with that, unbeknownst to you, he had found the perfect subject for his studies. You on the other hand had found solace in your work and his presence now, never wasting a thought on anything that didn't have anything to do with your new routine.

❦ - le fin

I’m thinking their voicelines about each other would be among the lines of like

You about him:

“The Doctor? Oh *ahem*, yes I would consider him a trustworthy companion. Don’t give other peoples’ comments about him much thought. He’s pretty normal, all things considered. I would know, I’ve worked with him for a while now. Anyway, I should take my leave now. Good luck. What?.. Oh no, i can't stay, I'm really busy. I'm sorry. See you”

Him about you:

“Yes, they have been much help to me over the past few years….What? You want to see them? They're busy, try again another time… A message?....No, you can’t take them with you. Find someone else to do your work for you. Now leave.”

#i dont know if i like this or not but im amazed that i managed to pull this many words out of my ass #genshin writing #dottore x reader #dottore writing

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chukys-mouthguard · 3 months

Text

kinda tempting pt 4

part 3

4.6k words

genre: angst, with a drop of fluff

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matthew rempe

note: to the anon who predicted the exact plot of part 4…was it that predictable? Hahaha 🫣🙈

To say you were stressed was an understatement. On top of trying to plan a destination wedding for this summer, you were also stressing over not just the Rangers but the Islanders fighting for a playoff spot.

Despite having worked through playoff hockey before, this year seemed much harder on you. The longer hours, stricter deadlines, on top of just hoping and praying your boyfriend fiance managed to make the playoffs, or else he’d be off enjoying summer early while you might still be working. Which wouldn’t be ideal if you’re trying to get married this summer.

Though you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t once thought about postponing the wedding, or even possibly eloping. The idea of trying to plan a destination wedding in another country was actually making you insane. Mat was dead set on Italy for your wedding, but with how crazy busy you both had been, there was very little planning taking place. Trying to convince Mat to postpone seemed like an even bigger challenge at this point, one you were afraid to even attempt.

There really wasn’t any rush to get married in your eyes, but you understood Mat just wanted to call you his wife. To not be engaged for long, because what’s the fun in that. Which is why you’d figured to just elope, then later down the line you could have a wedding. But this summer seemed too soon, and you were sick trying to juggle it all.

“Mat, what is all of this?”

Walking into your kitchen you found Mat standing proud with a counter covered in various snacks and goodies.

“Well, you said you haven’t been feeling well. And I figured I could try my best to help! So, I got you chicken soup because who can say no to that. Some cookies from the bakery down the street, since I wasn’t sure if maybe it was your period. And, to be honest this last bit I stole from tik tok when I searched gifts for girls. And everyone said you can’t go wrong with a throw blanket and some fuzzy socks.” He shrugged as he held up the two items, making you giggle as you kissed his cheek.

“Well thank you babe, I thought it was my period, but that still hasn’t started yet this month. Though I will still gladly accept these delicious looking cookies. I really appreciate all this.”

Taking a seat at the counter, you watched as Mat heated up the soup for you before sliding it to you with a spoon.

“Do you think maybe you should lay low today? I mean, with the schedule getting crazier for you, and I’m sure the wedding planning is also not helping. I just don’t want you to burn out or anything.”

Nodding your head as you heard his concerns you sipped your soup. “Well, I might swing by one of those like Minute Clinics at the drugstore. Just to maybe see if I need anything stronger than over the counter meds. I don’t think it’s anything serious, I have my suspicions. But at least I’ll have some answers after doing that.”

He simply nodded, not wanting to tell you what to do or how to take care of yourself. Though he couldn’t help but feel like you were downplaying things, or potentially keeping something from him. Not to mention how guilty he felt for bailing on the wedding planning with the Isles trying to make the playoffs. But if something serious was going on, he wanted to know. Though you would hopefully have your answer today, you weren’t sure how you’d feel when you go it.

It had been a few days since you’d gone to the doctor to figure out what was going on, and while you got your answer, it was the one you weren’t hoping for despite expecting it.

Mat had asked how it went, to which you simply responded that it was nothing serious. Hoping to drop the conversation until you found a way to tell him the real answer. Needing a few days to think it through.

As you drove to Madison Square Garden for yet another Rangers home game, you knew your news needed to be shared with Matthew sooner rather than later. Though you two hadn’t spoken since he found out you’d said yes to Mat, and despite him sending the congratulatory text that he did, you were sure he still wasn’t too thrilled about it all. This news definitely not going to make things any better.

After you’d gotten settled in at the rink, having a bit of down time, you shot a text to Matthew. To your surprise you didn’t appear to be blocked anymore. Maybe he’d gotten over his anger towards you, either way, you were thankful for it.

“Can we talk?”

You stared at the screen, waiting to see that he’d read the message, then waiting for the bubble to appear and signal that he was typing a response.

“The usual spot, I’ll be there in 5.”

Those 5 minutes of waiting felt like 50. You had no clue how you were going to tell Matthew your news, figuring it was maybe best to start with small talk and gauge his mood.

A soft smile on your face as he walked up to you, a more stern look on his. He offered a hug to you, feeling it was only right after the argument you two had. He never meant to say the things he did, no matter if they were his true feelings or not.

“So? What’s up?”

Playing with the hem of your jacket you started down the hall, Matthew instinctually following at your side.

“Mat read me the text you sent him the other day, that was really nice of you. Thanks.”

“You called me out here for that?” His tone was a mix of annoyance and sarcasm, making you question even more if this was a good idea or not. But you knew it was best for him to hear things from you this time, not his teammates, social media, or anyone else.

“No, I didn’t. Um, I wanted you to hear this from me. Especially after last time. But, I went to the doctor the other day because I haven’t been feeling well. I thought it was stress with the season gearing up for playoffs possibly. For Mat and for the Rangers. Not to mention trying to plan a wedding in Italy for the summer. But, it’s definitely not just stress.”

A look of concern washing over him as he looked down at you, unsure of where this was going. Nervously cracking his knuckles as he waited for you to continue.

“I, god I haven’t even told Mat and I can’t believe I’m telling you first. But, I’m, I’m pregnant.”

Matthew scoffed, a slight chuckle following as he bit his cheek, his demeanor completely changing as he shook his head.

“Wow, that’s…why the fuck do I need to know this? You just wanted to rub more shit in my face or what? You had me scared that something was really wrong y/n! Did you just tell me to get another half hearted congratulations from me?”

He tried to walk away, not caring to hear anything further, his heart hurting all over again knowing that now you truly were out of his reach for good. But you stopped him, grabbing his hand as you pulled him back to look at you. Tears in your eyes as you tried to explain.

“What!”

Matthew’s voice echoing through the hall as he stared at you, his expression quickly changing from cold to soft as he could see right through you. Seeing the nervousness in your eyes as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You, you don’t know if it’s his, do you?”

As you looked to the floor, that told him all he needed to know. Wrapping you in a hug, he didn’t know what to say. His own emotions running wild at the thought that you were pregnant with his child. But he tried not to get his hopes up, on the off chance it wasn’t his. Plus you were technically still engaged and planning to marry Mat as far as he was concerned.

“Well, you have to tell him. Regardless if it’s mine or his, he needs to know.”

“Oh like that’s easy? To tell the man I’m supposed to be marrying this summer that I’m pregnant, but don’t get your hopes up cause it might not be yours.” You sniffled as you wiped away the few tears that had fallen, letting out a sigh as you didn’t feel relieved at all. Feeling even worse now that you’d told Matthew the news.

“But if the baby isn’t his, he has a right to know. Shit I have a right to know if it’s mine!”

You quickly threw your hand up, covering his mouth in an attempt to quiet him. Not wanting anyone to possibly overhear your conversation.

“Sorry, but, I’m not okay with you pretending like I’m not a part of this now. You want to just not tell him? And then what? Especially if this baby is mine y/n, I’m not okay with you living life like everything is normal just to save your fucking relationship. Think back to how you felt that night. How he made you feel. I get you think it was wrong, yeah you technically cheated on him. But to sweep this under the rug, just because you don’t want to ruin what you two have worked on and fixed. That’s not the solution.”

You knew Matthew was right, but you couldn’t fathom what this news would do to Mat. He’d worked so hard to be a better man, and this is how you repay him? You needed to tell him, of course you did. But you didn’t know how you could do it in a way that wouldn’t risk losing your relationship with him.

“Look, I get it. You’re not wrong, but unfortunately this is not your decision or your news to share. Just, please, let me figure out how to tell him and what I’m gonna say.”

Matthew knew you were right, and it was your decision to make, he couldn’t help but feel like you were going to try your best to hide this from Mat, possibly play it off that the baby was his if it actually wasn’t. He’d try his best to trust you’d do the right thing, needing not to stress and focus on the game he was about to play.

As he left to get dressed, you immediately pulled out your phone, sending a text to Mat. Hoping he wouldn’t see it until after his game, not wanting to worry him or stress him out.

“Can you come over tonight? I have something to tell you.”

Pacing the floor of your apartment, you knew Mat would walk through the door at any moment. Your text had scared him to death, immediately assuming you lied to him about your trip to the doctor being nothing serious. He told you he’d cut his post game media time short to be able to get to you, knowing traffic would have already make his drive a lengthy one.

Finally you heard the key turning in the deadbolt, your heart practically sinking to your stomach and you felt like you were going to puke and pee your pants all at once.

“Baby, I didn’t expect you to be up waiting. Come here.”

He dropped his bag and ran to you, arms wrapping around you as he pulled close. Pressing a kiss to your lips before he took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for whatever the conversation was set to be.

“Are, are you okay? I’ve been a nervous wreck. Please tell me you’re okay!”

You softly chuckled, trying to hold back the tears you could already feel welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

He looked at you concerned as he took your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your skin as he tried to search your eyes for a sign, but nothing could prepare him for the words you were about to say.

“Mat, I’m pregnant.”

Mat’s eyes grew wide as his jaw slightly dropped, hands leaving yours to grab at his hair. In complete shock he didn’t know what to say or do, settling on questioning whether or not you were lying, to which you told him no you were not.

“Baby! This is amazing!”

Spinning you around the living room before he kissed you, tears now in his eyes as he was overcome with emotion. His reaction only hurting your heart as the idea of possibly telling him the baby wasn’t his still very present in your mind.

“Is this why you wanted to postpone the wedding? Because of the baby?”

His hands now resting on your stomach as he smiled down at them, you unsure of what to say as you were still processing the news yourself.

“Um, kind of.”

He could hear uncertainty in your voice. Tucking some hair behind your ear, he left a hand to caress your cheek.

“Everything okay? You don’t seem excited.”

Resting your hand on his you flashed him a smile, nodding your head to convince him you were fine.

“Of course, it’s just, a lot to take in you know?”

“I completely understand babe, it’s definitely some big news that’s for sure.”

He pulled you in for one last hug, before picking you up once again as he couldn’t contain his excitement. Screaming in excitement as he peppered you with kisses.

“Ahh, I just can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad!”

“You’re kidding me. You haven’t told him yet?”

Matthew shook his head as he paced the hallway outside the locker room.

The Rangers were set to play the Islanders, one of the last games before the playoffs, and the last thing you needed was both Matthew and Mat under one roof.

“I told him, just not, everything. I mean, you should’ve seen how fucking excited he got at the idea of him being a dad. How was I supposed to crush him in that moment?”

“Yeah and what about me?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t think about Matthew’s feelings in all of this, you just tried your best to convince yourself that things weren’t going to come to you having to tell Mat about anything that happened behind his back.

“You think I haven’t been excited thinking that baby could be mine?”

His voice now more of a whisper, not needing anyone around to overhear and word to spread. You could see in his eyes that he was hurt, torn, confused. And you knew you had to set the record straight, not just to him, but to Mat as well. Though you weren’t ready for the repercussions that would come with that.

“I, I know you have. I can imagine you losing sleep, your mind running rampant with so many thoughts. And you’re not wrong for that. Trust me, I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to deal with the job of telling one of you the bad news.”

He took your hand, trying to calm himself as he didn’t mean to be angry with you. Trying to imagine what you must be going through with all of this, he felt bad for raising his voice and pressuring you to say or do anything.

“You really don’t have any idea? I mean, you can’t let things go on much longer without knowing. It’s only going to make it that much harder.”

Looking to the floor you took a deep breath, realizing that what you were about to say, would change everything. Your relationship, your future, everything would surely change now. But you had no choice, Matthew was right. It would only be harder the longer you waited.

“That’s just it, I do know. And that is what’s making this so much fucking harder. I just can’t bring myself to say it and hurt someone like that.”

Matthew immediately knew from your words, but while he understood you being afraid to admit you’d cheated. He couldn’t understand you being ashamed of it when Mat pushed you to it. The way you were made to feel, you were sure your relationship was over. And while sure, he’s worked on himself to step up and be a better man to you, it didn’t change everything he’d done before to push you to the point that you’d decided to sleep with someone else. To go to someone else for the things he wasn’t giving you.

“Well, then maybe you don’t have to tell him. Look, I really gotta head in and start getting ready. But, we can talk after okay?”

Matthew gave you a quick hug before heading off to the locker room. Leaving you to gather yourself and get ready for the game. Hoping it would be a good distraction, even if only for a few hours.

Warmups had started, and you were in better spirits. The guys goofing off for the camera putting a smile on your face easily.

You watched as Matthew skated over to Mat while he stretched by the red line, wishing you could have been a fly on the wall for whatever they said. Mat instantly having an angered look on his face, shaking his head as he began spitting words back at Matthew. He flashed a cocky grin as he stared down at Mat, shrugging his shoulders as you could see him mouth the words “we can go no problem.”

His statement making Mat rise to his feet, now staring at Matthew blocking your view to know what had been said next. Soon enough, their teammates coming over to separate them and tell them to save it for the game. Matthew skating around a bit as he caught your eye, simply smirking over at you, letting you know that he had definitely stirred up some trouble.

From the drop of the puck, tensions were high. Despite Matthew not getting many shifts, any time he was out there it seemed like the Islanders had his number. Taking cheap shots along the boards, getting in his face after the whistles.

As Matthew stepped onto the ice your eyes flew to Mat, who was screaming at his teammate to change, the look in his eyes one that you’d rarely seen. And you knew he was going right after Matthew. His skates hitting the ice and his path already determined, heading straight towards him before slamming him into the boards just a few feet away from where you stood. Mat standing over him as he taunted him, begging him to get up and fight him.

The crowd erupting as Matthew stood up, throwing his gloves to the ice, the two boys now ready to trade shots. You knew this was a stupid move for Mat, he wasn’t a fighter. And Matthew was surely going to beat his ass.

They exchanged blows, the fight seemed to last forever as they both were bloody. Matthew landing the final punch as they fell to the ice, Mat not letting go and continuing to throw blows as it took two of the referees to pull him off.

As they skated to the box their bickering continued, screaming at one another from opposite sides as they sat their respective five minutes each.

The game continued on in a similar fashion, multiple fights and player ejections, all to end in a thrilling shoutout where the Rangers took home the win. You’d gotten access to the locker room to film the awarding of the post game accolades, noticing Matthew in the corner, his hands resting under ice bags, a black eye already forming on his face.

Shaking your head you were in shock, that two grown men had just beat the shit out of each other, most likely over you because what else would they have fought over. Though you couldn’t be sure, not having any clue what Matthew said on the ice to get Mat fired up the way he did. As you left the locker room, you were shocked to find Mat heading your way. Not yet showered, clearly having just wrapped up his media availability, his expression not happy to see you.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Looking at him confused you tried pulling him to the side, not needing him to make a scene with everyone around.

“Babe, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t fucking babe me!”

His shout causing you to jump, Mat clearly angry though you were still unsure why.

“That fucking kid comes up to me during warmups. Pretends to congratulate me on the baby, then asks me if I know for sure that it’s mine? What the fuck is he talking about?”

A look of shock washing over you as you couldn’t believe Matthew had done that. Whether or not he was right, he had no reason to do that. It was your news to tell.

The shouting had earned some looks of concern from Rangers staff, soon enough a few players had poked their heads out of the locker room. Matthew eventually emerged, Mat immediately turning his attention to him.

“Oh just fucking perfect, yeah come on over and try to save the day Rempe. Haven’t you caused enough issues?”

“Everything okay y/n?”

“Why would you do that? Tell him he needs to be sure the baby is actually his?”

Matthew laughed as he bit his lip, shaking his head as he looked at you. His somewhat cocky attitude not one that you appreciated in this moment. “Really? Y/n, come on. You said it yourself you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that. I tried starting the conversation, so it’s time to just tell him.”

Glaring at Matthew, you couldn’t bear to look at Mat. Tears welling in your eyes as you could feel your world crumbling around you.

“Y/n, tell me what?”

You shook your head as you tried your best to hold it together, Matthew wrapping an arm around your shoulder to comfort you as he looked at Mat, his words coming out stern but apologetic.

“It’s, it’s not your baby Mat.”

Immediately you interjected, feeling the need to try and salvage some type of conversation. “Mat, please, let me explain. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I didn’t know he was going to say that stuff to you on the ice. Please just-“

“You’re fucking kidding me. Rempe? Of all people, you fucked him? When?”

Shaking Matthew’s arm from your shoulder you tried to pull Mat aside to explain, but he didn’t want to hear a word you had to say. Doing his best to not make too much of a scene with everyone around.

“This is why you wanted to postpone the wedding, you knew. Didn’t you?”

“No! I didn’t know! Please, just let me explain!”

Your hands moved to caress his face to get him to look at you, but he took a step back.

“Just tell me the truth. Is the baby mine, or his?”

Taking a deep breath, you knew that your answer was going to change everything the moment it left your lips. But it had to happen, he deserved that much.

Sliding your engagement ring from your finger, knowing there wasn’t going to be a wedding after you gave him his answer, you placed it in his hand.

“I’m so sorry. I’m really fucking sorry.”

Mat looked at the ring, shaking his head as he glanced from you to Matthew. A smirk coming across his lips, though you knew it wasn’t a happy one.

“I hope it was fucking worth it. See how this works out when he’s out of the league in two years.”

Mat walked away as you fell to the floor, sobbing as you felt the weight of the world crash onto you. Matthew trying to pick you up and comfort you as best he could, but you quickly pushed him away.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that? If you care about me you’ve got a weird fucking way of showing it pulling a stunt like that. I told you to let me handle it!”

Matthew looked at you confused, “He needed to know! You said it yourself, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it and hurt him.”

“And so you decided to do that for me? That wasn’t for you to do! I don’t care if it’s your baby or not, that wasn’t your decision to make!”

Matthew didn’t bother arguing, letting you take out your frustrations on him before you hurried past him. Hoping none of the other guys were listening to what had all just transpired. Gathering your things and heading to your car, needing to go home and take the night to try and wrap your head around what just happened.

As you got back to your apartment you couldn't help but pack up some of Mat’s things he’d kept at your place. Figuring it was best to get that out of the way now as you were still coming down from the emotions of things officially ending.

Putting the last of his things in a box, you carried it to your front door. A few soft knocks catching you off guard as you checked the time.

Opening the door you revealed Matthew standing there, duffle bag in hand as he smiled down at you.

“I’m sorry, can I come in?”

Stepping aside, you reluctantly let him in. Despite your frustrations, he was going to be the father of your child. You couldn’t shut him out completely. As he set his bag down, he wrapped you in a hug as he kissed your head.

“You’re right. It wasn’t my place to do any of that, and I’m sorry that I fucked everything up for you. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. I’m sure you want to punch me in the face. But, I’m not going to leave you to deal with this alone. The breakup and the baby. I’m gonna be here. Whether we end up together, or simply co-parent. I’m not going to walk out on you or leave to deal with this by yourself.”

Smiling up at him you nodded, accepting his apology as you were simply too tired to be bothered with being frustrated or angry at him. Appreciating his willingness to be there for you, for the baby. You knew you were going to need his support through the process. Not even wanting to think about the field day the Rangers organization were going to have with this situation.

Heading down the hall and back to your room, you climbed into bed, desperately needing sleep. Matthew followed behind, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you get comfortable. Your eyes catching his with a chuckle.

“What?”

“Just figured I’d make sure you get to sleep okay.”

“Or you could come to bed too, I don’t really want to be alone after everything that went down tonight.”

Pulling back the covers you scooted to the other side of the bed, making space for Matthew as he joined you. The two of you facing one another as he could see you were drained.

“Matt, if I’m being honest, I’m scared.”

Your eyes fixated on your fingers as you played with the sheets, not trying to get worked up again.

“I know, but I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna be here for you and our baby.”

#mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal angst #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #matthew rempe fic #matt rempe angst #matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe fluff #nhl fics #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #matt rempe

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totaly-obsessed · 9 months

Note

Hi first off all I don’t know who you write for but could you maybe write something about pregnancy with Niamh Charles or Maya Le Tissier???

Picture Time

Niamh Charles x reader request

-> Going through pregnancy with Niamh

-> @anon hope you like it! It is a bit shorter than I wanted to but I ran out of ideas

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Baby, please! Just stand up straight against that wall!” Niamh has been trying to convince you to take pictures for a month now.

A month ago you had finally gotten a positive pregnancy test, and ever since confirming with doctors, your fiancé was obsessed with getting you in front of a wall. “That sounds like I’m a prison inmate baby.”

The sly smirk on her face was nothing new – any time you said something remotely sensual, or something she could misinterpret she turned into a horny teenage boy. “Oh! Didn’t know that you had a role-play kink, baby. So you’re the inmate – what am I the hot police officer?” You couldn’t swat her wandering hand fast enough, letting out an annoyed huff. “Don’t lie baby – you would kill to see me in a uniform and I know it.”

Her cocky stance changed immediately when you tried to get away from the empty wall. “No wait! I’m sorry!” Kiss after kiss was pressed on your forehead while she grabbed your wrists, gently maneuvering you back into position – one side facing the wall, the other facing Niamh. “I’ll take one picture every week and watch you two grow!” That was fine in itself but you didn’t understand why that had to happen in your underwear.

The footballer tried to calm your nerves down again and again once she knew of them – of course, your body was changing, how could it not? But to her, you looked perfect, you started to show just a little and both of you had noticed once she had made you stand in front of the wall.

While Niamh was ecstatic throughout the first months, you started to get nervous.

Niamh however, was very useless when it came to the nerves “Just don’t stress about it – relax, baby!” she had said when you told her about your fears. “I have a small human being depending on me to grow strong and healthy for a whole nine months, what’s to stress about, right?” Your snappy response was enough for her to realize, that you really did mean it, you were scared.

The defender realized that her life hadn’t changed all that much ever since you had gotten pregnant – but yours was completely different than before, and she became a lot more understanding.

Everything hurt, you started to swell up and gain weight, and your hormones were in overdrive – driving you both crazy. Quite a few people started to distance themselves from you, a lot of them being old friends who didn’t want anything to do with children, and others who were just disappointed that you didn’t want to hit the night scene anymore. “So what if you’re pregnant – you can still come!” One of them had actually said that, and she accused you of being selfish when you explained, that you just couldn’t go to clubs right now – no matter how much you wanted to.

You also had to give up a lot of food, that Niamh started to obsess over once she realized that some things just weren’t good for the baby growing inside of you. “Carbs, coffee, dairy… this kid better be real sweet for everything I had to give up.” Yeah – breakfast had changed a lot and it was now up to your fiancé to make it, as she desperately tried to ignore your whines for coffee.

But she was your rock throughout the whole pregnancy – she never invalidated your feelings and she was always happy to just be with you, no matter what state you were in, helping you through the pain and making you laugh so much that “I just peed myself a little.” Was not an uncommon sentence in your home.

Winning the FA Women’s Super League 2022/23 was huge for Niamh, but it was even better to see you after the match – with a round belly, carrying your child. “We did it, baby!” She was so excited as she was trying to scream over the noise of the crowd, climbing into the friends and family section, and pulling you into a deep, passionate, and bruising kiss. “You did it, baby!”

But after the initial hugs and kisses you noticed the smell – usually you didn’t care but having a sensitive stomach was a bitch. “Baby I love you, but please don’t come close to me until you’ve had a shower or I’ll puke on you.” Everyone in your vicinity laughed at your pouting girlfriend, but they quickly stopped once you wouldn’t hug them either – until Millie ushered them into the changerooms.

After winning the league there were a couple of formalities to go through – such as taking professional pictures with the trophy – and smitten as Niamh was, she took you with her. Both of you had picked a gorgeous dress to match Niamh’s stunning blue suit. Everything was going absolutely fine until it came to the shoes.

“Fuck this!” Sam swears she has never seen Niamh faster than that. “What? What is it?”

“I can’t see the ground anymore, my stomach is so big and I can’t get these dumb shoes on!” With a soft coo, your fiancé started to wipe the frustrated tears away, that were making their way down your cheeks. “Awwwh, baby. You’re absolutely fine.” She helped you into the shoes and pulled you up.

After a few kisses and calming back rubs, you were fit to leave the room, seeing Niamh’s teammates eying you with concern. “Everything’s fine guys! It is just that growing a human being is really hard.”

Both Niamh and you were counting down the days to your due date – your fiancé’s ever-growing picture collection on her phone being the most watched thing she had on there while you literally crossed off days on the calendar, getting nervous when you started to see the circled one.

Just a couple more weeks to go.

“Baby I think we should start thinking about the birth plan by now.”

“Oh, I have a plan. Get her out.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #niamh charles x reader #niamh charles #chelsea wfc x reader

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mysticalmallard · 3 months

Text

Princess Band-aids Can Fix Broken Hearts

Description: In this scenario, Katherine is 5 years old. Chibs is babysitting her as her parents, Gemma and Clay, are looking for a 19 year old Jax who has gone missing after Tara dumped him and left Charming.

Word Count: 2,720

Warnings: not much, yelling at a child and making them cry I guess counts

Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz

♥︎ MainMasterlist ♥︎

Chibs sighed, looking down at the 5 year old girl. This definitely wasn’t what he’d envisioned for his Saturday night, but he’s agreed to watch her after Clay and Gemma had practically begged him.

Grumbling under his breath, he knelt down in front of her, giving a small smile.

“Are ye gonna be a good lass, or a little terror?” He joked.

Katherine looked up at Chibs, her brown eyes wide. “I’ll be good, I promise.” She said softly, a small smile on her face.

Chibs chuckled softly at her response. “That’s wha’ I like to hear.” He ruffled her hair carefully, before straightening up again. “Now, whut d’ye wanna do?”

Katherine thought for a moment, her little forehead creasing in concentration. “Can we play outside?” She asked, looking up at Chibs hopefully.

Chibs nodded, a small smile on his face. “Aye, we can do that.” He gestured for her to follow him, and together they headed outside.

Outside, Chibs led Katherine over to a small play area that the Morrow’s had set up for her. There was a swingset, a sandbox, and a small slide.

The Scottish man sat down on a nearby bench, watching as Katherine immediately made a beeline for the swingset. Chibs chuckled quietly to himself as he watched her swing back and forth, her little legs pumping as hard as they could.

He sat there for a few moments, simply watching her play, admiring her quiet, almost timid nature. She was a total contrast to her older brother and parents for sure.

As time passed, Chibs found himself becoming more and more endeared to the little girl. She was so damn carefree, so damn innocent, and it warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

"Is Jaxie coming home soon?"

Chibs was snapped out of his thoughts by her question. He shook his head slightly, giving her a small smile.

“Nah lass, he won’t be comin’ home anytime soon. Your dad and ma are takin’ care o’ him.”

"Why? Is it because he is sad?"

Chibs chuckled quietly at her question, nodding.

“Yeah, sweetheart. He is a bit sad, like ye said. He’s got a broken heart, an’ your mom and dad are tryin’ to help him through it.”

"Oh no, does he need a doctor to fix his heart like they fixed Mommy's heart when she was little?"

Chibs tried to suppress a chuckle, grinning at her question.

“Nah, darlin’. He doesn’t need a doctor to fix his heart. When I said he has a ‘broken heart’ I meant it in a different way.”

"What do you mean?"He chuckled at her innocence, her naive nature.

“When I said yer brother has a broken heart, I meant that he’s goin’ through a tough time, because his girlfriend left him.”

"Tara?"

Chibs nodded. “Yeah… Tara. She left him, and now he’s feelin’ sad and lonely.”

"Left him?.....We should go and bring her back to make Jaxie happy again!" Katherine said jumping from the swing seat eyes full of determination

"Do you know where she went uncle Chibs?"

Chibs let out a bark of laughter, her determination amusing him.

“Lassie, we can’t just simply go and grab Tara. She doesn’t wanna be here anymore, she left Jax all on his own.”

"Oh...why did she leave if it makes Jaxie sad she said she loved him and Mom said you never leave the people you love?"

Chibs sighed, her innocent question tugging at his heartstrings.

“Sometimes people just don’t work out, darlin’. Even if they say they love each other, sometimes people just ain’t right for each other.”

Katherine eyes start to water starting to sniffle "but mommy and daddy say they the love each other is mummy leaving too?"

Chibs’ eyes widened at her question, his heart clenching in his chest.

“Now, hold on a second lass. Your ma and pa love each other a whole lot, yeah? They ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

"But you said people leave after they say they love each other I don't want mommy to leave, you can't let her leave daddy I don't want him to be sad too" she chocked out in-between sobs Chibs quickly scooped her up, sitting her on his lap.

“Hey… Hey, look at me. Your ma and pa ain’t going anywhere, lass.” He said, resting a hand on each of her shoulders. “Your pa adores your ma, and she feels the same about him. They’re not goin’ anywhere I promise.”

"Pinky promise?"

Chibs smiled, holding his pinky finger out to her.

“Pinky promise.” He said, his tone of voice warm and gentle.As their pinkies linked together, Katherine’s sobs began to quieten slightly.

Chibs wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against him, gently rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles.

“There we go, lass. No more tears, yeah?” He murmured against her hair, continuing to rub her back. “Your pa and ma love each other more than anything. They’re never goin’ to leave each other, or you or your brother, I swear.”

Katherine nodded Chibs smiled softly, glad that he’d managed to calm her down.

He continued to hold her against his chest, one hand gently rubbing her back, the other cradling the back of her head, his fingers gently tangling in her light brown hair.

"When are mommy and daddy coming home?" She sniffles

Chibs sighed, his fingers gently fiddling with her hair.

“Not for a while, darlin’. They’ve got a lot to take care of with your brother, he’s in a pretty bad state at the moment.”

"Okay...if I make Jaxie a card do you think that would make him feel better?"

Chibs smiled, impressed by her selflessness.

“Yeah, I think it would. That’s a damn good idea, darlin’.”

"Damn is a bad word Mommy said not to say that"

“Aye, yer ma’s right lass, it is a bad word.” Chibs chuckled softly, grinning at her. “Forgive me… I shouldn’t’ve sworn in front of ye.”

“But I’m serious darlin’, makin’ a card for your brother is a sweet idea. I bet it’ll make him feel a lot better.”

Katherine nodded, a small smile forming on her face. She seemed more settled now, no longer in danger of bursting into tears at any moment.

“Can I make it now?” She asked, her eyes hopeful.Chibs chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, lass, you can make it now. Go on and grab some paper and pens, and I’ll help ye make it.”

“Okay!” Katherine exclaimed, her previous sadness and worry forgotten as she scrambled off of Chibs’ lap and ran inside to find the supplies she needed.

Chibs chuckled silently to himself, amused by her quick mood change. After a few moments, Katherine reappeared, clutching a stack of brightly coloured paper and a box of crayons.

She sat down on the grass in front of Chibs, and began sorting through the paper and crayons, picking out the ones she wanted to use.Chibs watched as she began to draw, her concentration clear. She was so focused, her little tongue sticking out slightly as she scribbled determinedly.

He chuckled quietly to himself, silently admiring her determination and creativity.

As she continued to draw, Chibs watched over her, providing the occasional bit of advice or encouragement.

“That looks good, lass.” He said, as she carefully colored in a picture of a heart. “Your brother’s gunna love it.”

"Can I have a bandaid please to stick it here?" She says pointing at her picture Chibs chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“A bandaid? Why do ye need a bandaid, lass?”

"To fix it for Jaxie bandaids fix you if you are hurt and you said Jaxie's heart hurted"

Chibs smiled, her innocent explanation tugging at his heartstrings.

“Ah, I see. And the bandaid is to fix his broken heart, yeah?”

"Mmhm"

Chibs was touched by her sweetness, and her determination to help her brother, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“Alright, lass, hold on a moment.” He said, getting to his feet.

He disappeared into the house for a moment, returning a few minutes later with a small box of bandaids.

"Which one do u think Jaxie would like better the princess one or the froggie one?"

Chibs chuckled, looking at the two options.

“I think he’d like the frog one.” He said with a smirk. “He’s never been one for princesses.”

Chibs’ head snapped up at the sound of the door slamming, his gaze turning to the open front door through the window.

He groaned quietly, hearing the raised voices of Clay, Gemma, and Jax arguing.

He picks up Katherine as he carried her inside, Chibs could hear the heated argument coming from the living room. He could hear Clay and Gemma’s raised voices, and Jax’s tired, strained voice responding. He felt a pang of sympathy for the young man, but quickly focused his attention on the little girl in his arms.

“Hey, darlin’.” He said softly. “Let’s go sit in another room for a bit yeah.”

"Can I give Jaxie his card first?" She asked hilding the card up.

Chibs hesitated for a moment, listening to the ongoing argument.

“Maybe not right now, sweetheart.” He said gently. “Your parents and brother are havin’ a bit of a disagreement at the moment. It wouldn’t be a good time to interrupt them.”

Before chibbs could take her to another room jax comes storming out almost running into them

"JAXIE! Your home look look I made you a card"Jax stopped in his tracks as he almost ran into Chibs and Katherine. He looked tired and angry, his eyes bloodshot and his hair a tousled mess.

But he stopped, looking down at his little sister as she held up a brightly coloured card."Not now, Katherine" he says pushing the card out of his face

"B-but I made it for you to make you feel better"

"Make me feel better?" He snatches the card out of her hands and rips it in front of her face "A STUPID CARD CHANGES NOTHING !! SHES GONE AND ITS THIS STUPID FAMILIES FAULT!!!" Jax screams in her face his face turning red.

Chibs immediately walks a few steps back, and covers her ear with the hand not supporting her, when jax raised his voice "JAX! calm down lad it ain't her fault!"

Jax snapped his head towards Chibs, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Yeah, but it’s someone’s fault!!” He yelled, his voice hoarse and cracked. “She’s gone and she ain’t takin’ my calls or texts. This whole thing is bullshit!!”

Katherine is sobbing she is scared she doesn't understand whats going on all she knows is people are shouting and Jax ruined her card "d-did it not work? D-does your heart still hurt?"

Jax looked back at his sister, his anger fading as the realization of what he had done sunk in.

He looked down at the ripped card in his hand, his heart clenching in his chest. Katherine’s words cut through his anger, and he realized what he had done.

“….Oh god.” He mumbled, guilt washing over him.

Chibs watched the scene unfold, his heart aching for both siblings.

He saw the guilt on Jax’s face, the confusion and sadness on Katherine’s. He knew that Jax was hurting, but he couldn’t condone what he had done.

“Lad, that wasn’t very nice.” He scolded, his voice gentle but firm.

Jax looked away, unable to meet Chibs’ gaze. He felt ashamed of himself, remorse washing over him for snapping at his little sister.

“Yeah… I know.” He mumbled, shoving the torn card in his pocket.

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from Katherine’s quiet sniffles.

Chibs looked from Jax to his sister, trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation. He took a few steps forward, stopping in front of Jax.

“Look, lad, I know you’re hurtin’. I get that. But takin’ it out on your little sister ain’t gonna fix nothin’.”

Jax clenched his jaw, his eyes still downcast. He knew Chibs was right, but the pain and anger he was feeling made it hard to admit.

Katherine wipes her eyes with her sleeve "I'm sorry Jaxie for making you mad I just wanted to make you better so u won't be sad anymore"

Jax felt a pang of guilt as he listened to his sister’s words. He had overreacted and taken his anger out on her, something that he realized wasn’t fair to her.

“Hey, hey, no don’t… don’t apologize, okay? You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He said, his voice soft and shaky.

"But I made you a bad card it didn't work"

Jax shook his head, his expression growing softer. “No, it wasn’t a bad card. It was a really good card, okay? I just.. I just wasn’t thinkin’. I shouldn’t’ve ripped it up. I’m sorry, alright?” He went to reach for Katherine but she turned away from him and into Chibs.

Chibs wrapped his arms around Katherine, providing a comforting presence for her. He felt a pang of sadness as he watched her turn away from Jax, but he understood why she did it.

Jax frowned, feeling a pang of hurt as his little sister turned away from him and into Chibs’ embrace. He knew he deserved it, after the way he’d spoken to her, but it still stung. He pulls the remains of the card from his pocket and has and idea.

"Hey Kat..do you have any tape in that craft box of yours?"

Katherine looked up, wiping her eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” She said softly, curious about what he was doing.

“Could I borrow it for a second?” She nodded, pointing to the craft box on one of the tables.

“It’s in there.” She said, sniffling slightly.

Jax walked over to the table, rummaging through the craft box for the tape. He could feel Chibs and Katherine watching him, but he tried to ignore their gazes.

After a few moments, he found the tape, holding it up in triumph.He walked back over to Chibs and Katherine, tape in hand.

He sat down in front of them, unfolding the torn pieces of the card.He began to carefully, slowly tape the pieces back together. It was a slow process, the tape sticking to his fingers and making it hard to line up the edges.

But he persisted, determined to restore the card to its original state. After a few minutes, he had managed to tape the card back together. It wasn’t perfect, the tape was visible in several places and the edges were a bit jagged.

But it was still the same card, the colored drawings and scrawled words now pieced back together. All that was left was the bandaid but it has lost its stickiness he felt a soft tap on his shoulder Katherine holding out another one "there were no more froggie ones would this princess one be okay? Uncle chibs says you don't like them but we can cross them out if you want"

Jax chuckled softly, touched by his sister's thoughtful gesture.

"No, it's fine. I think the princess one would work just as well."

He took the bandaid from her and carefully placed it over the heart on the card. He held up the finished card, examining it. It was far from perfect, but the fact that it was put back together made it more meaningful.

Chibs gently ruffled Katherine's hair and whispers

"good job, kiddo."

Jax took a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Hey, Kat?" He said, looking up at his sister. Katherine looked at him, her expression still slightly wary.

"Yeah?" She said quietly.

Jax hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"I'm sorry for ripping your card. It was wrong of me, and I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you. You were just tryna help, and I acted like a jerk."

It was silent for a moment before Katherine frowns and whispers "jerk is a bad word but its okay I won't tell mommy"

Jax couldn’t help but chuckle at his sister's attempt at scolding him.

"Yeah, it is. Don't go saying that to mom, alright?"

He looked up at Chibs, grinning.

Chibs chuckled.

"Aye, I think that might cause a bit of trouble. Best, keep that one to yourself, lass."

•○•○•○•

To read more about my OC Katherine and her life around the club click here

#OC Katherine Morrow x Samcro #sons of anarchy #samcro #sons of anarchy x oc #soa #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford #chibs x oc #chubs telford x oc #jax teller x oc #jax teller #oneshot #soa oneshot #sons of anarchy oneshot #jax teller one shot #jax teller oneshot #chibs telford oneshot

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