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14thgalerie · 9 months

Text

25 — part 3 (alt/ext. ending)

• pairing: exhusband!james potter x reader

• now playing: scott street by phoebe bridges / this is me trying by taylor swift

• word count: 6.1k

• genre: angst (as expected)

— based on this request, i unconsciously changed up some details as I was writing this but here you go! I'm not really the biggest fan of this as I haven't been feeling up to writing recently

part 1 part 2

There is silence around him, and there is time. For a while, he thinks he has all the time in the world, but the heavens have never been on his side and they never will.

James

It was cruel. To feel the ropes that tightened each day on his beating organ even in his sleep.

Above, a dark navy sky drifts with flurries of clouds, moving in slow motion.

James

When his eyes fluttered open, his vision remained the same of the dark surroundings. Something that was not news to him. The sound of birds chirping outside of the house along with the gentle stream of the river in the distance largely contradicted the condition of his closed-off room.

James

He hears it again. The voice rang through his ears constantly in the past weeks. When he tilts his head to the direction of where it came from, it doesn’t take long for his vision to be filled with warm, hazy hues of orange. Only then did his mind register the light that entered through his swept curtains.

“Darling.” He called so softly that even his ears could barely register the sound.

He leaped up, ignoring the groan of his limbs. He blinks once, twice, and then he says your name. Realising his mistake when he first called you by his preferred call name from when you were still together. “What-” He stammers. “What are you doing back here?”

A brief pause before his eyes widened. “Not that I mind! It’s just- you know-”

You let out an amused exhale. “Yes. Frank let me in and asked that I wake you up myself because he has to rush off for something.” You explain as your eyes kept their focus on the body that was fidgeting across from you.

“Oh! Yeah, he has this appointment for the dentist that Marlene met when she settled in London for a while.” His eyes never stayed far too long on one object, constantly shifting and yet it often settled on you. The red Mary Jane flats that you always wore. Hair that seemed to be a lighter colour than when he last saw you.

“It’s his wisdom tooth, huh? I just got mine removed the other day actually.”

But his eyes never meet yours. They remain fixated on the bump that is poorly hidden beneath your clothes.

A fusillade of questions went through his bewildered mind. Had you already found someone and couldn't help but plaster to his face the future he lost? Was this another image that would haunt him for the rest of his days?

“James.” You call out again. “Can we sit downstairs?”

He nods, unable to articulate a word for he knew it would all be a jumble of syllables.

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, casting its warm light on his pale hands which sat on his lap. You had decided to sit in the backyard, finding your old home to be too cold and missing the warmth that kissed your skin on the way here. James went ahead while you stayed behind to grab the two cups of tea you had prepared before you went up to the bedroom.

“Hey there, I hope you still like your tea like before.” You gently placed the fragile ceramic on the table in front of him before you sat on the seat beside him.

“Two teaspoons of sugar.” You simultaneously said. His shocked state was broken by the laughter that came over him at your action. You also giggle, especially as you see genuine joy finally creep through his mein.

“So um, I guess I should speak first then.” You say out loud, after taking a sip from your cup. “I’m quite sure you have seen this stomach of mine already earlier. I mean, it’s gargantuan, it would be impossible not to.”

You pause to check on him and see the reaction on his face. To which you received none, for his face remained as blank as a whiteboard on the first day of class.

James couldn’t understand the emotions that waved over him at the worst fear of his coming true. Millions of thoughts shift and begin inside his head, none of them coherent enough to be pierced together. All he knew was that everything within him lost sight and he is left dwindling at your whim.

Breathe. Breathe.

“Yeah, how far along are you now?” He asks, trying to keep his voice still.

He watches as you exhaled heavily, your countenance now similar to his. You bite your lower lip, struggling to keep the flow of your sentences going.

“About five months now.”

James instinctively calculates the months in his mind.

No.

He shakes his head. His eyes plastered intently on the wet grass in front of him.

“She’s yours. Not that I had been with anyone after you.” You reply, knowing it must have been the first question that came to him. Still trying to gauge the thoughts that he could be having. The latter, you muttered under your breath, unsure if he even heard it. So you quickly said something to cover it up. ��If I counted right, it would’ve been from the last time we slept together a few weeks before we officially separated.”

The world slows down to an adagio, and he’s all caught up in the moment before he speaks. He heard it. His ears piqued at the words that were laced with a tiny hint of vindictiveness. But he didn’t bother to give it a second thought when his mind was still stuck on one thing. “A girl.” He laughs but it was more in disbelief. The world has apparently not been good to you either, giving you a gift that reminded you of his faults. “I wanted a girl.”

“Yeah.” You say, giving him a huge smile. “I know, and you finally won again.”

Your hands reach out to wrap around his own pair, veiny and cold, a sharp contrast to his. His fingers curl around your fingers, laughing inwardly at his body’s automatic response to your touch. He doesn’t know how this was a win for him. His child would grow up, unknowing of her father who withered away miles away.

He couldn’t accept it. The idea that another person would be taking his place beside you in watching her first steps. Laughing at her incomprehensible mumbles.

“Please,” He nearly shook at the voice that came out of his lips. Surprising both you and him. “Stay.”

He stands, without dropping your intertwined hands, and drops to kneel in front of you. His dark, searching eyes locked onto yours. In the depths of his irises, emotions swirled like a tornado, and in the middle of it all, a man lies.

“I know I said I would not ask any more from you, but that’s the one promise I cannot stand behind. I’ll do better now. Just please, give me this chance and I swear I would forever be by your side.”

You pull your hands away to which you were met with resistance. He relaxes when he feels your arms wrap around him, combing through his dark hair. “Well, it seems you still have that habit of not letting me finish.” You joke. Though it could be seen in your expression, the hesitance, the drawback.

There is no doubt that you were still hurting from the repercussions of your ex-husband’s choices in the past. He couldn’t blame you for it, he is still suffering from it so he could not even imagine the level of your pain.

But before he could see it, you reverted back to your carefree expression as he pulled back to give you a playful glare, his red cheeks still smeared with the trails of his tears. “I was gonna ask you before you interrupted me if you want to give this a chance. An attempt to see if we could do this together. “

You made him stand and sit beside you, which he obediently followed. He finds himself being able to breathe properly again for the first time in a while, the smell of fresh air sifting through his lungs once again. The familiar comfortable weight on his shoulders that took the shape of your head in its place again.

“So, should we kick Remus out of the guest bedroom so we could paint for the nursery?” He jokes as you both silently watch the light blue sky covered with an abundance of clouds that looks so fluffy that you wanted to lay in them.

You burst out in laughter, imagining the look on Remus’ face when he hears of this news. “He might just kick the both of us out when we do that.”

“But uh- I wanted to also ask you if it’s alright that we stay in my apartment instead?” You hesitatingly ask when silence befalls you again. “It’s just the idea in my head that so many things took place in this house that I would rather not be reminded of again.”

His heart clenches once again at the remnants of the consequences of his choices left on you. But he understood where you came from, and frankly, he felt the same. “Whatever you ask, darl- Y/N.”

“You can call me that. Don’t worry.” You assure him, knowing that he was walking on eggshells and you didn't want it to be like that now that you were welcoming this baby to your lives.

“I missed having someone hear me call you by that, darling.” He says. Was this suffering enough for all that I caused her? He asked himself. Was it even close to the hurt and anguish that I have traded for the ceaseless love she untiringly gave to him?

He doesn’t believe it is. He doesn’t even believe that all of what had just occurred in the past hours were real. He was fully expecting to be shaken awake by Remus, with a scowl on his face, muttering about how love is useless and shouldn’t be as needed as it is.

The tides have receded and all is calm and how it was.

James was surprised that you had left for another home miles and miles away. In a place where there is little to no trace of magic anymore. You were a step closer to the future you had always dreamed of.

A life away from the chaos and destruction that your world is currently in.

He doesn’t dwell on this fact any longer, instead taking it as a moment to appreciate that you had accepted him into this life. He remembers, from your trip on the way here, that you instantly got approved to be dismissed for a while from the missions all of you had been taking to ensure your and the baby’s safety.

Although he wasn’t quite as lucky, as he still needs to report back every now and then to perform his duties to the wizarding world. But they must’ve been in a good mood then, to allow him to take less time so as to assist and accompany you before your birth.

“I’ve been working at this cafe around the block.” You mindlessly mention, hanging your coat by the closet as he enters the bright and homey apartment. The natural light that comes in through the large French windows and the balcony lights up the whole place.

“That’s nice, are they treating you any good?”He inquires, wanting to absorb as much information about you as he could. You nod. He rushes back towards his bags which he had left by the stairway when he sees you about to pick them up. “I’ve got it! Why don’t you settle down for a while and rest up from our trip? I don’t want you carrying all this heavy stuff since it could hurt your back.”

You snicker, “I’ve been carrying much more heavy stuff in the past weeks since moving in. I don’t think two duffel bags of clothes will do much damage.”

“Still. I’m here now, and as much as I know you can surely carry this, I don’t want you to. I’m scared for you and the baby.” James worries.

“Yeah, use the baby to guilt me. I can almost see a little girl version of you with a smile so wide asking for things that she doesn’t even care for.” You say, leaning both of your arms on your waist.

He laughs wholeheartedly, “Hmm, I might but I also might not.” Coming forward to pull you down on your cream couch. “Maybe she will grow up to be as nice, loving, and loyal as her mother. I’m sure she’ll be attached to your hip.”

“Yeah right, as if your stubborn ass would allow that to happen.”

He doesn’t reply anymore, instead exhaling an amused breath. The rest of the day was spent in mostly comfortable silence, while the two of you bicker over each song that plays on the radio; he had stood up to turn it on when his eyes glanced at it. Only coming to an agreement when it came to Laufey— a fact that surprised you by a whole lot but also made you the happiest woman on Earth. He laughed when you squealed in excitement. It was like the two of you were back on stage one, a chance to do it all over again. A small movement by his side caught his attention.

Your warm fingers slowly inched in around his hand before enclosing it in the palm of your hand. The soft skin of your hand as it rests on top of his made his heart race in his chest and it takes a moment before James could manage to get a hold of himself. A minute has already passed when he also clenched her hand tight and placed their hands on his lap.

It’ll be a while before everything goes back to the way it is, but he’s got all the patience in the universe.

— Two months later

James had never been so honest in his life than when he promised he would do everything within his power to be there for you and your family. It would be a long and difficult process but even when the two of you are well below 6 feet underground and your daughter has made a life of her own, he would still be at your will.

When the world reached its final stage of collapse, he could do nothing but watch it unfold. He didn’t know when exactly it happened. He was content with the roof that hid the dark sky away from him, in peace with the light you brought him. But when your world is built with the scraps of destruction, it is bound to crash onto you.

It just so happened that it was his that fell off the axis.

James felt that the more he tries, the more he’s losing you. A thought that made him chuckle dryly because it’s so ironic when you lay peacefully asleep in the room you both share. He knew that you also were trying, even forcing yourself to feel the love that was even remotely close to the love that you used to have for him.

It wasn’t to say you felt nothing for him anymore, it was only that it wasn’t what you both expected it to be. It’s just that he is nothing but the father to your child now, not the one you saw yourself spending years alongside.

This wasn’t all simple insecurities for him, he knew it was a fact. He did not mean to, but he happened to overhear a conversation you had with your neighbor who you had become close friends with.

But to him, it didn’t matter. All he wanted was to make you feel loved and safe in his arms.

He feels you nestle your cheek in his arms.

“I’m sorry.”

He hears you mumble in your sleep, he had half a mind to wake you up. But he found himself unable to do so, investing in the way the wind flowing from the open window made your eyelashes flutter.

He studies you carefully. You had all these little intricacies that he would like to believe no one else saw except for him— something of you that he would like to keep to himself. He desires nothing more than to think that no one but him knows about the birthmark behind your ear, nor the scar on your hand from when you scratched yourself while riding a bike.

He longed to have every detail of your being ingrained in the deepest parts of his brain. He wanted to feel the intricate texture of your existence.

“Hi there…” You groggily say.

“Hi.” He leans down to press his lips against yours. You have gotten used to the feeling of connecting your lips to his, but the look in his eyes when he pulled back instantly filled you with a surge of anxiety that made you fully wake up. They reflected a kaleidoscope of emotions— too many to process but what stood out was the misery and acceptance behind it.

“James…”

“I love you.” Yet, he still tried to play his luck.

“James…I kissed someone else, we have to talk about it.“

The cold wind blasts with bitterness as you leave through the large heavy doors of your apartment building. Hugging your cardigan closer to you and holding your tote bag tighter to your chest, you rush towards the supermarket nearest you. James had gone back to meet with Remus and the others after Dumbledore had called them suddenly. Seeing as your plans to go to the park with him had to be put on pause, you decide to finish a few errands.

“Welcome to Flamingo’s!” A staff greets you when you enter. Heading straight toward the long aisles, grabbing whatever item you need, and placing it on the large cart in front of you. A ridiculously large one. Truth be told you were completely baffled at its size when you grabbed it.

But as much as you claim to hate it, you’re having the time of your life; feeling like a child pretending the cart was a formula one car and the aisles were a race track. The lack of shoppers made it all the better because you didn’t have to worry about bumping into anyone. Quickly grabbing your items like they were some boosters from a game as you swiftly went through the aisles. It felt nice to completely let go and just pretend like she’s living as a carefree person, especially with how busy she has been lately.

You had just turned the corner when a sudden yelp brought you out of your daze. You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth at the sound. Scolding yourself for thinking that you wouldn’t accidentally hit someone. You turn to face the person to apologise for your careless actions when a clear, deep voice cut you off before you could even do so. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

His brown hair was damp and pulled back, indicating that he probably took a quick shower before he headed outside. His tall form was clad in a pair of old jeans, a plain white shirt, and a dark hoodie.

“Remus? What are you doing here?” You were confused, you thought when James said he was meeting with the group that Remus was a part of it.

“Grocery shopping?”

The two of you walk-in unison toward the cashier. “Oh, I thought you were meeting up with the rest of the Order.” You mention. “I wasn’t needed when I asked. But James and Sirius were called specifically.” He explains as you were lining up, his hand gesturing for you to go first.

You feel a weird flutter in your stomach all of a sudden. You dismiss it as one of your pregnancy things. With weak legs, you moved forward as the line progressed. Trying to compose yourself before he caught up.

“Why didn’t you call to tell me that you were dropping by?” You ask. Genuine curiosity scratching at your brain. During the time that you and James were still apart, he had been driving up to your place to help you out. He was one of the few people you told of your pregnancy. “I wanted to give you a surprise since it’s been a while since we met up.”

“So, what are you cooking for me today, Chef Lupin?” She observes while taking a quick scan of his basket.

“Bold of you to assume this is for you, lady.” He chuckles. “This is all for baby Olive.”

“For the last time, Rem, I am not naming my baby Olive.”

“Well, even if you don’t, I’m calling her Olive after you made me buy a kilo of olives just to make me eat it instead.” He snarkily replies.

Feeling a warmth creep up on your cheeks, your head shifts away so quickly that you feared you may have gotten whiplash from it. In your movement, you see one of the cashiers' signs for you to move along. Not realizing that both of you had already been at the end of the line. Before you could push the cart, a long arm beats her to it. Your cart gets pushed by your company.

“Stop being a gentleman, you’re gonna make women fall for you.” You jokingly tease him.

You settled beside him, watching the man handle your groceries. Your eyes focused on the screen before you. “Only for you.” A silence ensues at his reply. Remus guffaws at the curl of your upper lips, not even a beat after he said the cheesy line. “But I’m being honest here, I only do it with you. Well, except for the obvious like helping other people when they need it, but I mean that I enjoy helping you. ”

“Why?” You ask incredulously.

“I just do.” He said while crossing his arms over his chest.

But right before either of you could utter a remark again, the man in front of you called the total. “That’ll be $235 in total, should I separate your items?”

You each make a move to give cash first before the other but alas Remus still beats you to it, quickly finishing the task. “Please do, thank you.”

Free food for you, then.

You take a seat provided just a few steps away from the counter, drumming your fingers on the blue plastic chairs beside you. While Remus leans on the hand bar of the cart, patiently waiting for the cashier to finish, occasionally assisting with lifting some items.

Inside your head, as your ears circled in on the sound of the hustle and bustle of the market that had become busy as you were in line, your mind wanders to what it would be like if Remus was the one that you liked back then. The love you held for James was visibly wavering with every moment you had spent with Remus in the aftermath of your divorce, he had willingly helped you out even when you told him not to for fear of being a disturbance to him.

Just as the brunette began to straighten up and pivot the wheels of the cart to face your direction, you shake away the thought. Baffled because this would be a betrayal to James, despite what he did to you.

“Let’s go?” He asks. You nod, taking your place beside him, engaging in some more small talk as you head out the door. If you would call rants about the horrible noise that your neighbour makes in the middle of the night as small talk, however.

The man instantly moves to help you with the bags. Taking four at a time, telling you as he neared to just stay by the trunk and organise each of them to make everything fit. You silently give a nod in agreement, swiftly moving to not make him wait while carrying such heavy items. After all, it’s a relief that you didn’t have to carry all of these all the way back while you were nearly seven months pregnant. Building an efficient system in less than a minute.

The picture of the two of you reminds you of your childhood, watching as your parents do the same before it all went to shit. An air of domesticity is no doubt always felt when you are in their affinity. You stifle a smile that was threatening to form at the thought. You need to stop thinking like this.

The sound of the metal cart clanging as it hits the end of the line clamours in the parking lot. He walks towards you in the hazy yellows and oranges behind him. “That should be it! Should we go or do you need to drop by somewhere else?” He gestures for you to move out of the way of the trunk door, finger pointing to the passenger door which he had unlocked already. You shake your head, quietly replying with the former option.

Prying your eyes away from him, you make your way inside the car. Quickly settling inside the car, although with less ease than you had before as the last time you rode this truck was when you were lighter during your early pregnancy. Emitting a low groan, eyebrows knitted and eyes staring off to nowhere, you lean back and rest your head behind you.

To say you were delighted by the realisations coming to you would be a joke. It was an attraction that you knew should and would never fruition into something more. Accepting it as soon as possible would be right for your mental well-being. But nothing’s ever set in stone and you’re currently sitting in the passenger seat of a friend that you have stared at far more than any normal person would and waiting for him so that he could drive you home.

Stop doing that to yourself, Y/N.

“Are you good?” Worriedly, he asks, “You look like you’re in pain. Have you got a headache or anything?”

You let your eyes adjust to the bright light that enters through the windows, shaking your head from side to side in reply. You force yourself to hold your head up high, locking contact with the gold optics, brightened by the varying hues of the setting sun. Remus flashes a soft grin with his eyes smiling alongside. “I’m glad, but are you sure? I could drive you to the clinic if you want.”

Then and there, all at once, the rest of the world blurred and all that you could see was Remus. Remus, who had granted you the opportunity to be at the receiving end of his care when you really needed it, looked at you with as much fondness as you would others, unknowing that you noticed it. Nothing had existed as beautiful as he was. He smiled and you felt yourself spiraling down deeper into the hole that you had dug and covered over and over again yourself over time.

For once, you feel the apples of your cheeks rise again in true joy; not believing that you could ever feel this way, this happy, ever again and with anyone else.

You reach forward with your arm and grab his face to pull him towards you until you feel the slightly cracked but soft lips pressed tenderly against yours.

The softness of your kiss conveyed a depth of feeling that surpassed the transcendence of words. His hands were frozen by the steering wheel moved to pull her closer, as if afraid that she would slip away.

In the arms of one another, time seemed to lose its meaning and the world outside melted away.

“What do you mean that you know?” You whispered, your voice a trembling echo.

You force your body to sit up and face him properly. Checking over his entire figure, afraid to see one of your biggest fears of hurting him.

It was inevitable and you knew it.

You were on the other side of this only months ago, and despite it all, you had never wished for him to feel the same. It was excruciating.

“Remus told me himself, explained the whole thing.” He explains as he looks down on his lap. His fingers played with the wrinkled fabric of his pajamas. The sight leaves you feeling a sense of deja vu.

“I knew he was going to you back then, at first it was because I asked him to because I was curious how you were doing. But then he started to act differently, describing what was up with you similarly to how I did back when we first started dating.” He explains further.

“I didn’t notice it at first, Sirius did. I thought it was something Sirius made up in his head just to mess me with me again but then when I met up with Remus around two weeks ago, he dropped the bomb on me.”

“I- what did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I mean- how could I? I had just heard from one of my best friends that not only did my ex-wife kiss him, one that I am still in love with, might I add, but he also reciprocated it because he wanted to.”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Right, so can we please forget about this and go back to sleep?” His voice pleaded, cracking with the force of his emotions, desperate for you to meet his gaze and for you to close the distance between you that widened with every second.

“I know this might be just your form of revenge towards me, and I forgive you! I really do! So can we please-“ His voice faltered.

He paced back and forth, his voice breaking with each syllable. “Could we please move on now? Can you please love me again?”

His emotions were laid before you, like vivid paint that once again smears the stark white canvas which had just been replaced. Letting you see all that he could give.

“No, James.” Your response was firm, tone strong to leave nothing for discussion anymore yet it is also strained. The stars shimmer in the clear, night sky bearing witness to the tumultuous end of your love and most of all, your struggles.

“This is unhealthy, I tried. I tried relentlessly to dismiss the blaring warning signals that echoed within me solely so that I never took away your right to be a father to your child. Regardless of all that came between us, she did nothing to receive only half of the affection she deserved.”

Your words were laden with pain, a silent plea for him to stop, to wave the white flag, but his unwavering love was an unstoppable force that consumed him entirely.

“Y/N-“ He started. His voice cracking at the weight of his inadequacy. The inability to give the love she deserves and to be the recipient of hers.

Yet, before he could even begin again, she interjected, speaking into reality the words that would solidify the end of your shared path.

“You are a great man, James. I really do believe that, but I don’t think I can love you anymore like you expect me to. That’s just it.”

“I don’t hold any hatred in my heart for you. I really don’t, even if you make me think otherwise. Nothing will ever change the fact that you were by my side for years, long years where I knew nothing except that I love you. That will never change, and I’ll always care for you albeit it’s taken a different form now.”

He is silent, a sense of defeat in the celestial orbs that once brightened like the night sky.

“You have been an incredible husband, I even dare to call you my soulmate. It’s just that we weren’t bound to last as husband and wife even if we wanted to. God, I wished for nothing more when I first went back home to you that this would work because this emptiness without you was unbearable.”

With a heavy sigh, choked with emotion. “Yet, as painful as it is to hear me say this, I think it was because you were this one constant presence in my life that when I lost you, I missed you so terribly that even when I felt my love for you slowly differ by day, this urge to recapture the past had consumed me.”

In denial, in sorrow, in defeat was his only state at the moment.

“I love you.” His voice was laced with despondency.

He moved to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before he caressed your cheek as though he were comforted by the mere presence of you right now. He had no answer for everything you had said, as it always is, you were correct.

It only felt that there were a thousand knives being poked through him now as if he were a dummy as he chooses to accept that.

In hindsight, if there were any person who he would’ve stood behind in confidence when it came to you, it would truly be Remus. The two of you were closer than with any of his friends, knowing each other before you had met James.

But it was the knowledge that Remus loves as wholly as one should that assure him that you were in perfectly good hands.

Of all things, he never wanted to force you to do anything, even if it meant that he had to let you go for the second time. This time, however, it hurt so much more because it proved to him that even with a chance, he would never have you back.

The only thing he’s got is one last night with you.

“Y/N?” He meekly calls your name.

You hum in waiting, tired and in pain similar to him. This wasn’t any easier for you, you truly did want to mend this hurdle in your relationship but it simply wasn’t meant to be.

“Can you hold me to sleep one last time? You can leave whenever you want but please let me have one last sleep where I am still yours.” He asks, even if it makes him feel so pathetic, to be asking you for something as small as this.

Without any hesitation, you move to pull him back with you to lie in bed. You wrap your arms around his back as you let your head rest on the top of his, cocooning him with your entire body.

James couldn’t stop his tears from falling.

“Do you know?”

“What, love?”

“There were days that I wouldn’t go out nor would I sleep, I would just sit at the desk and watch outside the window. Outside, there were those tall grasses, who swayed in unison with the records playing in my room, unaware of our differences.” He says. You stare out the window, imagining the view outside your old house.

“The ones we planted flowers on?” You wonder. He nods.

“I sat there till the sun came up and the blossomed into new beginnings, wondering why I haven’t when the only difference was that my sun was in a picture frame.”

You remain silent.

“I love you.” He whispered. The genuineness and remorse are clear in his voice. “I know.”

He picked up the apologetic tone in your voice. The pain in his heart was hollow and deep, striking the centre of the organ and reaching throughout his entire body, throbbing, throbbing.

“Can you say it too? Lie if you have to. I just need to hear it.” He whispers.

“I love you too.” It hurts you, to know that he believes that you have to lie only so he could hear you say the words that seemed so normal back then, words that now feel like you took advantage of. “I love you so damn much, James.”

James could do nothing but quietly sob in your chest until he succumbs to the heavy weight on his eyelids, aware of the fact that in the morning, his only companion would be cold sheets once again.

In the dead quiet of the night, with no one else to hear it, a hum in the tune of Happy Birthday remains the only sound to be heard.

James had only turned 26 when the gravity of his promise had become an ephemeral spencer that despite his earnest desire, had lost all semblance of significance.

masterlist

#harry potter #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders

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imagine-darksiders · 9 months

Text

On the Ropes - chapter 23.

CYNOSURE.

Summary: You're in trouble. More trouble than you seem to realise...

Montgomery Gator X F!Reader

Slight Freddy X F!Reader

Tags: Jealousy, Protectiveness, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Violence, Anger, Past abuse, Friends to lovers, dialogue.

Please note, I haven't seen anything to do with the Ruin DLC. I'm writing this with just the base game in mind.

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If it were possible for a human to retreat inside their own shadow, you'd happily let go of your crutches and sink down into the safety of the darkness stretched across the daycare floor behind you, hiding within yourself where nobody – not Andy, nor Freddy or Monty or Eclipse – would be able to see you.

You want to be small.

You want to be still.

So small and so still that you could slip out of view entirely to conceal yourself amongst the dust and atoms that are naked to the human eye.

You'd only ask for a few hours. A few hours to be unimportant and unnoticeable.

Is that such an outlandish ask?

If it meant you don't have to be looked upon by a man with anger contorting his expression into something cold and ugly, you'd disappear in a heartbeat.

You've wished for similar things before, in entirely dissimilar situations.

“Andy,” you croak, trying not to dwell on how timid and yielding your voice has fallen, “I-I'm sorry, okay? I know I should've gone straight home-”

“So why didn't you?” The speed at which he cuts off your sentence is jarring enough to send you shrinking behind your shoulders and dropping your eyes to a spot on the mechanic's shirt that shifts across his heaving chest, slack then taut then slack with each breath.

He's asked a valid question, you remind yourself, swallowing thickly. And really, what did you expect? He has every right to be angry with you. You were discharged from the hospital and expected to go straight home to rest your broken ankle, but instead, you've returned to the very building where you sustained your injury in the first place not twelve hours later.

Sparing a second to go over the motions in your mind's eye, you start to get a picture of where you might have made a couple of minor errors in judgement.

Gulping past a lump of nerves in your throat, you raise your eyes to the mechanic's again and offer him your excuse, though you can only imagine how feeble it must sound in his discerning ears. “I... just wanted to make sure they... I needed to see that everyone was okay. Monty was half-destroyed, Andy, I couldn't just sit at home and not-”

Abruptly, the mechanic's jaws split around a sharp bark of laughter that causes Eclipse's fingers to cinch several pascals tighter around your bicep.

Even Freddy's ears flinch back at the piercing sound.

“Pah! You needed to know they were okay?” Andy parrots, giving his head a shake and planting his hands squarely on his hips. Seconds later, his face twists up to aim a scowl at you, all traces of false amusement gone. “And why in the Hell didn't you just call me!?” he points out, jabbing a forefinger against his chest, “You have my number! You could've just asked me! I'd've checked on 'em for you so you could go home!” You don't miss how his voice cracks on the final word. “What the Hell were you thinkin', kid?”

And you wish you had an answer for him.

You could counter his query with one of your own. Like whether or not he truly thinks you wouldn't have just gone to plex anyway, especially after he told you what had happened to the attendants.

Something solid bumps gently against your good ankle, and a hurried glance down reveals that Monty's segmented tail has swept close behind you, curling up around your legs as the gator shifts on his hydraulics and leans closer into your side.

It's a subtle shift, or as subtle as a three tonne animatronic can be. Privately, you hope he doesn't say anything in your defence. You can't imagine that Monty speaking his mind will lead to a peaceable outcome between he and the mechanic right now.

But if the ornery gator was on the cusp of formulating a response on your behalf, he never gets to spit it from his voice-box.

Forcing a rough exhale through his teeth, Andy raises a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed firmly shut. “Look, kid, I...” He trails off to sigh again, turning on his heel with a fist clenched at his side. You try not to stare at his bone-white knuckles, all too aware that Freddy's optics are adhered to your face.

“You got any idea how scared I was when I went to the Hospital this mornin' and you weren't there?”

Pressing your lips together, you numbly shake your head, though you're not sure he's even looking for a response.

Without turning to face you, he finally lets out a tired, old exhale, tipping his head back to glare up at a nondescript point on the ceiling. ”... It's been a hell of a long day.”

You have to wonder if he managed to get any sleep last night with how thickly his voice dips.

Although you're conscious you've used it to death, you nonetheless can't refrain from falling back on your typical, knee-jerk response. “I'm sorry, Andy...” you apologise.

“I know you're sorry,” he grunts waspishly without missing a beat as he begins to march towards the daycare entrance, “Now you'd better get your sorry ass to the car park, stat. M'callin' you a cab...”

“But-”

The mechanic's boots squeak on the rubber mats, silencing you when he whirls about to jab a finger at you, ignoring Monty's guttural hum of warning.

“But nothin'!” he snaps, which in turn has you snapping your mouth shut, “I ain't in the mood today, okay? Now get!”

His command echoes out through the cavernous room, disappearing into the rafters hanging high over the daycare.

As Andy stands there, seething, you keep your feet planted firmly on the ground. With Monty's plates quivering on your right, the attendant's fingers squeezing wrinkles into the sleeve of your shirt, and Freddy hovering between you, sending apprehensive glances between you and the mechanic, you take a shaky breath to steel your nerves before you finally manage to rush out, “But what about Eclipse?”

It's funny. Before today, you'd never actually seen a vein bulge in real life.

Andy's temple seems to throb for a moment as he stares at you, jaw creaking open in disbelief.

In another second, his brows are wrenched to the centre of his forehead and he makes a sound of incredulity at the back of his throat, almost a laugh, but a dangerous one.

“Eclipse?” he scoffs, “Who the Hell is-?”

Somewhere overhead, a mechanical 'thunk' rolls across the ceiling.

At once, Andy's question falls silent and he quirks a brow, tilting his neck back to squint at the overhead lights.

Following his gaze, you nearly jump out of your skin when the daycare is suddenly and inexplicably plunged into a jarring darkness.

Barely a fraction of a second passes before Eclipse's hand on your arm goes ramrod stiff, and in doing so, turns their grip on you damn near tight – tight enough that it hurts, which instantly sets alarm bells ringing in your head like claxons.

Neither Sunnydrop nor Moondrop, in all your history of service as a cleaning lady here, have ever once caused you even a sliver of harm, not by accident or otherwise.

Putting aside the fact that their programming is irrefutably air-tight given their proximity to children, Sun and Moon have informed you repeatedly that they'd rather tear out their own circuitry before they'd ever harm a friend.

So to have their grasp on your forearm turn borderline painful isn't just surprising, it's downright unfathomable.

In another blink of an eye, the darkness bearing down on you evaporates as the lights overhead promptly buzz back to life, flicker once, then finally stabilize in the familiar, steady hum, glowing brightly down onto the daycare.

But still, Eclipse's grasp doesn't shift.

Oblivious to your sudden wince of discomfort, Monty raises his snout to peer at the ceiling, optics narrowed uncertainly. “A power surge?” he hums.

“You gotta be shittin' me,” Andy growls, ignoring the little burst of static that leaves Freddy's voice-box at his vulgarity, “First the animatronics go haywire, now the lights're on the blink. What's next?”

None of them seem to have noticed the eerily motionless giant looming at your side, nor the look of trepidation you're sending the large, spindly fingers encasing your arm.

“Uh, Eclipse?” you utter tentatively, giving your limb an experimental tug. You don't like the way they're staring at Andy, their once luminous optics as dark as tar pits and their head locked at a rigid, right angle, sun rays extended to their maximum length.

Silicone fingers tighten a fraction when you try to reclaim your limb, prompting a soft hiss to seep in through your teeth.

You may as well have let out a bloodcurdling scream with how violently Monty tears his optics off the lights and whips his head in your direction, fast enough that you can hear his motors whirring noisily to try and keep up with the movement.

Oh no...

“Wait, Monty –” you start, but you already know by the wrinkling of his snout and the dilation of his aperture pupils that he's seen the source of your trouble.

Crimson optics lock onto the vice-like hand secured around your arm.

There's a single second where you see the gator's processor scan over the pressure that Eclipse is exerting before, in a snap, the daycare explodes with the sound of a furious, thundering bellow.

“HEY! GET OFF'A HER!”

Before you can even flinch, one of Monty's purple servos stretches across your body to latch around Eclipse's wrist.

“Monty!” you shout, alarmed, “It's okay, stop!”

At the sound of your voice, the attendant's faceplate tilts down, apparently unfazed by the gator's grip, and you can't do a thing to combat the visceral shudder that crawls up the back of your neck when your eyes meet their dark, unlit optics.

There isn't a trace of the irradiant orange light that had once glowed behind their casing, light that had given an impression of real life beneath the plastic shell.

Now, they're black as pitch, save for two, nearly imperceptible pinpricks of... of purple light...

At the base of your neck, tiny hairs shoot upright, prickling at the sense of a danger you don't quite yet comprehend.

The overheads must be shining through the back of their faceplate for a moment, there and gone in a flash, because as soon as you blink, the violet pupils wink out, yet Eclipse's grasp on you remains stubbornly in place.

“Hey!” Andy hollers from somewhere behind you, “What's goin' on back there!? Thought I told you to get to the car park!”

“I'm trying!” you retort, placing a hand on Eclipse's and attempting to gently coax their fingers from your arm. At the same time, several tonnes of gator grabs the collar of your shirt and gives it a rough pull, which sadly only results in nearly strangling you when Eclipse's grip doesn't budge an inch.

“I said let 'er go!” Monty snarls, giving your shirt another yank, throttling you in the process.

Rather than continue to play the role of 'rope' in this impromptu game of tug-of-war between two powerful animatronics, you hurriedly blunder out, “Monty! Please! Let go, you're making it worse!”

“I'm tryn'a help!” he insists.

Looming over you like a dark sun, Eclipse twists their faceplate in a full rotation, their beaming grin far more menacing than you recall.

At your back, Andy's scowl disappears in a blink, his mouth falling open in abject horror.

Quick as a flash, he snatches his stun baton from his belt and skirts around Freddy, barking, “Get out of the way, gator!”

Throwing a glance back over your shoulder, your eyes zero in on the prod in his white-knuckle grip and you let out a gasp, whipping your head back to Eclipse and pleading, “Guys! What's wrong? Please, talk to me! I-it's okay!”

They lean forwards, twisting their hand into your shirt until your knees buckle and tears spring to your eyes.

Something's wrong.

Deeply wrong.

You're trapped.

It seems delayed, but at long last, a creeping terror begins to sink its gnawing teeth into your stomach.

Sucking down a wobbly breath, you fill your lungs and let everything go again in a desperate shout, hurling out the words you never once assumed you'd have to use in their presence. “Sun! Moon! Stop, you're hurting me!”

And as if it's a shut down switch, as if that's what gets through whatever has momentarily assumed control of their processor - more than your struggling, more than Monty's crushing hand on their wrist - Eclipse turns their head a click to the left, and their optics flicker, orange, then black, then back to orange again.

“F..friend?” they rasp, their voice-box laden with static.

Monty freezes at your side, the plates on his neck flared like a spitting cobra as Eclipse shifts their gaze down to the hand still wrapped around your arm.

Then, in a sudden rush of movement, the attendant all but rips their appendage from you and staggers backwards, all four of their limbs springing up to catch their head, and in doing so, you're sent toppling backwards on unsteady legs, clutching at your aching arm.

“Gotcha!” Monty grunts triumphantly as he releases Eclipse in favour of planting his hands on your waist and lifting you into the air in one, swift movement, spinning his torso around to place you gently on the floor behind his tail before he whirls back to face the attendant, chest puffed out and teeth bared, giving him the look of a bristling wall of metal and plastic.

You have to lean around his splayed arms to see Eclipse is still clutching at their faceplate, babbling incoherently until they give an abrupt, violent jolt, their knees collapsing out from underneath them.

“Eclipse!” you cry, hobbling around the gator, who only throws an arm out to catch you in the stomach, halting you in your step.

Andy appears in your peripheral, his hand still clamped around the prod.

“What in the goddamn shit is goin' on with this thing!?” he hollers.

You nearly gasp when two gentle paws land on your shoulders and coax you backwards, dragging your crutches along the ground.

“Miss Y/n,” Freddy's voice thrums over your head, “Please, don't get too close!”

Eclipse's optics flicker to life once again, only to dim a second later as that eerie, violet light sparks into existence and swivels in your direction.

There you stand, half hidden behind Montgomery Gator and engulfed in Freddy's shadow, one hand gingerly cradling your elbow, staring back at the attendant with downturned lips and upturned brows.

Drained of fight, beset upon by pain and confusion, you forget to hide your expression.

You forget that they know the look of fear all too well.

“F-Friend!” they sputter, peeling one, quivering hand away from their face and stretching it out towards you, their fingers seeking a connection with you, even metres away, “Friend? I-i-i t ' s m – m e...”

Before you can utter even a whimper in response, the animatronic suddenly throws their mechanical neck back and lets out a gut-churning shriek, three of their four hands scrabbling erratically at their faceplate.

“NNNGH!!!! GET OUT!” they howl like a wounded animal.

It's a horrifying thing to watch. And yet you can't tear your eyes off them as they rock forwards, peering through rigid fingers that cover the upper half of their face.

It's rather telling that even Monty steps back when the attendant once again buzzes and jerks as if their system is roiling with far too much electricity, a live-wire dropped in a puddle of water.

“GET! OUT!”

Their shout extends, growing and swelling in volume to an awful crescendo, until suddenly, at the apex of their cry when you're sure your eardrums might burst, the sound cuts out, as if their voice box has been inexplicably disconnected by unseen hands.

And for a long, heart-wrenching moment, they go entirely, frighteningly still....

Stricken, you let your jaw hang open, gaping at Eclipse's stiff frame as it starts to teeter over like an enormous obelisk falling slowly to the earth.

With an awful cacophony of rattling parts and scraping metal, they come crashing to the ground, none of it muffled against the soft-play mats underneath them. To your horror, a trail of smoke drifts up from the back of their head, beneath the little, black box where their CPU is housed.

Several long and tedious moments seem to drag by at an excruciating pace before finally, finally, you release the breath you've been holding for the last twenty seconds.

It escapes you in a rush, letting you know just how long you'd kept it trapped inside your lungs.

That single breath has a ripple effect, spreading outwards and touching Freddy first.

“Oh dear...” the bear mutters, his hold on your elbows going slack.

At once, you lurch forwards on your crutches before he can re-secure his grip.

“Guys!” you belt out, limping past a startled Monty, only to find yourself drawn up short by a heavy hand falling on your shoulder.

“Hold up, lady” the gator barks, easily keeping you in place even as you try to duck out of his grasp.

“God damn, shit,” Andy rasps, carelessly hurling his baton back onto his belt, “What is goin' on with these machines!?”

The mechanic once again bulldozes over Freddy's sputtered comment about refraining from vulgarity in favour of approaching the downed animatronic, moving past you and the gator to nudge the toe of his rubber boot underneath Eclipse's elbow, giving it a half-hearted kick.

“A-are they-?” you begin, craning your neck to see over Andy's shoulder.

“Offline,” he responds brusquely as he rakes a hand down his face, tugging at the wrinkles that lay under his eyes, “But looks like they fried their CPU.”

“WHAT!?” you blurt.

You might have gone on to spiral into a frantic mess of sentences, but at that moment, you're swiftly yet carefully spun around by a pair of large, tentative servos until you find yourself gaping listlessly up into the maw of Montgomery Gator.

Wasting no time, the enormous bot presses himself as far into your personal space as he can physically get without bowling you over and darts his gaze up and down your body, his optics working on overtime to scan you from head to toe.

“You okay?!” he rushes out urgently.

“What?” Mind whirling, you shoot a glance down at the lifeless attendant on the floor before returning your wide-eyed stare to Monty. “Wh-... I – yes? Yeah, I'm fine.”

A rapid shake of his head indicates his disagreement. “But they hurt you!”

“They didn't do it on purpose. It was an acciden-” you start to say, only to find yourself cut off.

“Stop sayin' stuff was an accident!” the gator blurts, his stare locking onto the spot on your arm where Eclipse had left his mark. Lips of silicone peel back to expose the full length of his teeth. “Sure didn't look like an accident to me...”

“Need I remind you that this-” you jerk your chin down towards the cast encumbering your injured leg. “-was an accident as well.”

“That's-!” The gator's voice-box sputters with fuzz for a moment as he tries to push his processor towards the words he's looking for, eventually settling on, “That's totally different!”

“Is it?” Stuffing your teeth into your lip, you fall quiet for a moment, gathering your brows into a hard line and drawing in a deep, slow inhale through your nostrils, partially to soothe your agitation, and partially because your ankle gives a sudden, searing throb, as if it had at last grown tired of you ignoring its frailty. “If I thought for one minute that they'd ever do something to hurt me, I might agree with you,” you concede, casting a troubled glance down at the eerily still attendant, your knuckles white on the crutch handles, “But this... I don't know... It's like they didn't even realise they were doing it... Something isn't right.”

“I'm sure it's nothing our fine mechanics can't fix,” Freddy pipes up.

“Agreed,” Andy jumps in, “Whatever happened, we'll deal with it down in Parts. New tech guy's comin' in to go over the security systems anyway.”

“Okay...” You nod your head, flexing your fingers around the crutches and sifting through your racing thoughts to try and formulate a plan of action, one that'll get Sun and Moon the help they clearly need. You're only glad that this has happened to you, and not one of the kids. “Okay. Okay, right. I'll help you get them down to Parts and Services.”

You should have known you wouldn't get away with that.

Sharp as a whip-crack, Andy cuts you off, shooting you a steely glare. “Not on your life, you ain't. You're going straight out to the car park, I'm gonna call you a cab. And you're gonna go home.”

You open your mouth to offer a feeble argument only to fall silent when Monty's hand finds your forearm and he leans down to place his mouth near your ear, grunting, “Maybe it's for the best, y'know? Can't do much for 'em if you're on the verge of collapse yourself.”

“I'm not on the verge of-... ugh.” You puff out your cheeks, teetering sideways before you manage to catch yourself on a crutch and shove yourself upright again. Scowling down at your cast, you mutter, “Not exactly making a good case for myself, am I?”

Rumbling a note of acknowledgement, Monty gives the back of your shoulder a guiding nudge with his snout. “C'mon. I'll help you get to the entrance.”

“God dammit, NO! NO! Monty, you're gonna carry the attendant down to Parts,” Andy exclaims, jabbing a finger at the gator and puffing like a runaway train as he throws an arm out at the animatronic bear hovering to your left, “Freddy'll take her to the entrance.”

Dutifully, the bear straightens up on his struts and returns his hat to its rightful place between his ears. “It would be my pleasure,” he says cordially, reaching out a paw for you to take and lifting his muzzle to flash you a charming smile. “May I?”

Letting out a disgruntled sigh, you take a single step towards the cordial bear, only for a clawed fist to clap shut around the collar of your shirt and keep you in place.

A growl reverberates through the air behind you and you're rudely tugged back a fumbling step, allowing Monty to slink around in front of you, releasing your shirt as he petulantly snaps, “Nuh uh, you may not!”

“Montgomery,” Freddy scolds, flicking his ears back on their hinges.

Snapping his optics over to Andy, the gator blunders on as if his co-star had never spoken. “Why him? Huh? How come I can't take 'er?”

Holding you breath, you cast a nervous glance around Monty's bridling shoulder to peer at the mechanic, who looks to be about three seconds away from pulling out his electric prod and reenacting the harrowing scene from last night all over again.

Peeling his lips apart, you catch a glint of his gritted teeth as he slowly drawls out, “Because I trust Freddy a damn sight more than I trust you to get her there in one piece.”

At that, you feel your eyebrows twitch inwards of their own accord.

It's only small, but a flicker of indignation spurs you to stick out your chin and fix Andy with a stern look, missing the way Monty's immense frame seems to grow inexplicably smaller at your side as he wilts.

“Andy, come on,” you say, “That's not fair...”

One of the old man's eyelids gives a volatile twitch, a clear indication that his patience isn't just wearing thin, it's damn-near threadbare. Yet still, you stand your ground, etching a frown onto your face that grows deeper and deeper as the silence stretches on.

Andy's lips thin, and despite his agitated temper, he spares the gator a more thorough once-over.

The mechanic has been around for a while, long enough that he was there when the switch was flipped and Montgomery Gator's processor first whirred to life. Ever since, Andy has amassed countless reports of Monty proving himself to be a nuisance, a hinderance and a downright danger to the company, the staff, the guests... To you.

The damnable bot broke your ankle, for Christ's sake...

And yet... God... And yet you've gone and done it. You've gone and buried a tiny seed of guilt right in the centre of Andy's chest. It isn't much, but it's enough...

He can't deny that you and that poor kid may very well have died yesterday if not for Monty coming to your defence.

Andy might not have believed it if he hadn't seen the feedback with his own two eyes.

The gator had protected you.

Glancing down, he doesn't fail to note the tail curled up around the back of your legs, nor the hulking animatronic casting you in his shadow - ironic, considering the bot has been doing nothing but shadow you for the past few days. People are noticing the changes...

Andy Flowers knows what loyalty looks like... He just... never thought he'd see it in a bot like Monty.

“Hhh... M'gettin' too old for this job,” he sighs, lifting a thumb and forefinger to massage gingerly at his forehead.

It's a tough pill to swallow, admitting that you have a point - that Andy isn't, in fact, being fair. He may remember, in gruesome detail, the bite, the blood, Mick's harrowing screams, but - and call him biased - he can't ignore that he trusts your judgment. Nor can he disregard the tiny kernel of gratitude he'd felt when he watched, through Monty's optics, how the bot guarded you from that 'intruder' with startling ferocity. The fact that you're the one willing to vouch for the bot means something to Andy.

So. Is it fair of him to suspect that Monty wouldn't get you to the front entrance without incident?

Andy's eyes squint sharply and he peers at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of three stares boring back into him, apprehensively awaiting his next words.

After a little while longer spent in silence, you nod your head and gently prompt, “It's okay, Andy. Monty can get me there safely. I trust him.”

You and Freddy are so busy watching the mechanic, neither of you notice Montgomery twisting his head to regard you with wide, glimmering optics, plastic brows pinched together and tilted towards the ceiling. And then the man's gaze is drawn to movement behind the gator, movement that he at first attributes to the daycare attendant stirring back to life. So it comes as a surprise when all he sees is the gator's segmented tail swinging back and forth silently at the back of your legs.

'Huh,' he muses to himself, 'That's a new one.'

Aloud, he has to summon every ounce of his willpower to do what he's about to do...

Concede.

“Goddammit, fine,” he spits, slumping his shoulders in defeat and breaking the spell of tension he'd cast over the daycare.

At once, Monty perks up and you start to smile, opening your mouth to give a word of thanks, but before you can, the mechanic jerks his chin at Freddy and adds, “Fred, go with 'em. Make sure there aren't any more detours.”

Almost as quickly as it had lit up, your face promptly falls slack. “Seriously?”

“We don't need an escort,” Monty chips in, throwing a haughty side-eye at Freddy, who only appears all-too happy to fulfil the request.

“Freddy goes with you, and that's final,” Andy retorts, squinting at you sharply, “You're in enough trouble as it is.”

It... shouldn't bother him as much as it does how quickly you back down from him, lowering your eyes and huffing out a quiet, “Fine. Fine.”

As you start to shuffle past him, you can't help but turn back to peer down at the lifeless animatronic on the floor behind you.

“What about them?” you ask quietly, pausing beside the mechanic, “Who'll help you take them to Parts if Freddy comes with us?”

“I know a gal,” is all he grunts in return as he raises his wrist and taps on his Fazwatch. The screen lights up, and a chipper voice buzzes through the speakers.

“Andy!”

“Chica,” the mechanic replies in a far less enthusiastic tone, stepping past you to stand over Eclipse's body, “Need a favour. You up for a little heavy lifting?”

Curious as you are to hear her response, it's only worry for your attendant friends that keeps your feet stuck fast to the play mats, and it isn't until Freddy's paw lands on your back that you allow yourself to be gently ushered towards the daycare entrance, tossing a last, lingering glance over your shoulder as you go.

Andy looms over Eclipse, still muttering to his wrist whilst his free hand wraps around the back of his neck, rubbing at the short, grey hairs that grow there, his whole body slouching forwards as if it can no longer bear to keep itself standing upright.

You think you can understand how he feels...

Freddy's guiding paw only manages to stay on your back for all of a few seconds before Monty slips his nose between you and the bear, giving the latter a shove with his powerful jaws.

Thrown, Freddy stumbles sideways at once, emitting a sound of surprise as his footfalls clatter clumsily on the linoleum for a moment, a moment that gives Monty ample time to move his hefty bulk between you and his co-star.

You remain deaf to Freddy's grunt of disapproval as he's forced aside, shooting the gator a reprimanding huff before reaching up to right his hat from where it had been knocked askew.

In the meantime, you continue to limp forwards whilst your head remains twisted over one shoulder, your gaze locked onto the gangling shape that lays on the floor of the daycare, round face-plates half obscured by Andy's legs.

Dark, blank optics bore into you as you're ushered beyond the wooden entrance and out through the red, swinging doors that close in your wake with a firm 'bang,' cutting off your view of that ominous, sightless stare.

Frowning softly, you turn your head forwards again and give a noiseless sigh, emptying your lungs and readying yourself for the walk to the front doors of the Plex. It's to your own shame that you look forward to collapsing on your bed and resting, while the attendants are carted down to Parts and Services where a perfect stranger will poke and prod at their CPU.

You can only hope they'll be okay when they wake up...

And so, in silence, all three of you – human, gator, and bear – begin to amble along the corridor adjoined to the daycare, not a sound passed between you except for the heavy 'clunks' of the animatronic's footfalls.

You keep your eyes on the ground ahead of you, wincing now with every other step, but keeping your expression rigid, sensing the vigilant optics of two bots assessing you from above.

You've almost reached the end of the corridor by the time Freddy breaks the silence.

“How are you feeling, Miss Y/n?” he voices softly, leaning forwards to try and catch your eye.

Exhaling a long, arduous breath through your nose, you raise your head and consider your response.

Somehow, you have enough sense to know that saying 'I'm about three seconds away from pulling my hair out and having a little cry right here in this corridor' to a worry-wart like Freddy wouldn't be the wisest choice of words.

The poor bear is already peering down at you as though he expects you to fall over at a moment's notice. So, in lieu of the truth, you plaster on a reassuring smile and aim it up at the star, telling him, “I'm all right, Freddy...” And then, because you're aware of the skeptical twitch of his plastic brows, you add a safe truth. “I'm just... really, really tired...”

You don't notice Monty's head lower to squint at you discerningly.

“Ah, that is quite understandable,” Freddy nods sagely as he presses ahead and holds open the lobby doors ahead of you, leaving Monty to linger behind and watch you through them with a careful optic, “You've had a very exciting day.”

“Excitin' ain't the word I'd use,” the gator huffs, sliding through and reclaiming his spot at your side before Freddy can bustle in to take it.

Apparently oblivious to his co-star's comment, Freddy simply settles into a steady lope on the opposite side of Monty and peers around him to continue addressing you. “I noticed you were looking a little peaky during the performance...”

Now you know he's being polite. You can't imagine that spending a sleepless night in the hospital without any opportunity to clean yourself up has left you looking your best. In response to the bear, you merely give a non-committal hum.

Once again, you all fall silent, although judging from the frequent glances that Freddy shoots down to you, you think it's safe to presume he has something else on his processor that's just bursting to get out.

Sure enough, after taking a few steps towards the lift...

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Did I... What?” you blink, turning to raise a quizzical brow at the bear.

“The performance,” he reiterates, tapping his fingertips together hopefully, “What did you think?”

Well, you muse, aside from the impromptu shoutout...

“You guys were fantastic,” you tell him with a genuine smile that only grows wider when Freddy's ears wiggle in delight, jangling his little, red earring.

Turning to Monty, you add, “You though, Mont, you stole the show!”

Clenching his fists, the gator has to focus hard on the creaking plastic to keep the pneumatic actuators beneath his casing from pulling his lips into a proud smile. There's a pressing question that's been nagging at the front of his processor, one that's been burning a hole through his chip ever since he looked up at the concert and found you missing, and he'll be damned if he's going to let a little compliment from his... from you distract him.

“Liked it, did'ja?” he mumbles.

You're still aiming a tired grin up at the side of his snout when you reply, “Of course I did...”

“Then why'd you leave..?”

Ah... There goes your smile... He almost pierces his plastic palms with his claws in some kind of self-imposed admonishment for erasing it.

But... he has to know.

Swallowing, you turn to face forwards again, dimly registering that Monty is has begun to turn himself towards you little by little, subtly herding you in the direction of the lift behind the photo booth.

Your crutches click noisily on the tiled floor. The answer to his question is precisely what you'd been hoping to avoid. And now you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. Do you tell him the truth and cause he and Freddy to worry, or do you tell a white lie and potentially insult them with a lacklustre reason for ditching the show early?

… God, your eyelids ache with the effort of holding them open.

Defeatedly, your shoulders droop and you ask, “You want an honest answer, or an answer that won't upset you?”

“Well... Honesty is my favourite policy – Oh. Watch your step,” Freddy chimes in as he moves ahead of you onto the lift before turning to face you, taking your wrist in his enormous paw and keeping you steady as you step on after him.

“Thanks, Fred,” you murmur gently.

Though he makes a show of rolling his optics at the bear, Monty concurs. “We're big bots, lady. Reckon we can handle it.”

The lift shudders when the gator steps on after you, dipping slightly with a groan of metal. You pause long enough for the sound to stop before you reach out and jab a thumb on the button for the bottom floor, blowing a noisy sigh through pursed lips.

“Doctors gave me some pain meds after the operation,” you finally confess, “But only enough for today. I was meant to go straight to a pharmacy after I left the hospital to get some over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. But...” Your voice trails off as the lift slows to a smooth halt, dinging once before the doors slide open to let you leave.

“But you didn't,” Monty points out, his voice nearly a growl.

Watchful of your every move, the bots linger behind whilst you swing the crutches forwards and haul yourself from the lift. You don't bother to wait for them, fully aware that they could catch up and overtake you in just a few strides.

Dipping your head towards your shoulder in a sideways shrug, you glance around the lobby, relieved to find that most of the foot-traffic is concentrated inside the gift shops. There are very few guests milling about around the open space, just a few tired parents chatting with one another near the turnstiles and a group of teenagers perched on the edge of the enormous, bronze statue that has pride of place at the centre of the lobby.

Only a few glance in your direction as you hobble past, sparing Freddy and Monty vaguely curious glances, but nobody seems altogether inclined to get up and greet the stars of the Pizzaplex. It's likely they've been here more times than one can count, and the novelty of walking, talking animatronics has worn off.

Perhaps you're just more impressed because you've seen these bots behind closed-doors, but you find that it's a sad world where impressive feats of technology like the Glamrocks are regarded as mundane, as if they're little more than a passing fad.

As you suspected, it isn't long before titanic footfalls tromp heavily up to your side once more, neither bot willing to let you stray too far ahead, apparently. You appreciate the vigilance, though you still find it a little overdramatic.

“Started feeling the meds wear off during your performance,” you continue softly once Monty's big, green nose appears in the corner of your vision, “And I got worried that if I didn't get to the daycare soon, I wouldn't be able to hide my pain from the attendants, so...”

“... So you left before the pain got too much to bear,” Freddy finishes for you, his ears tipping back in sympathy.

The gator, however, picks up on something else entirely. “Does it hurt real bad'?” Bristling, he takes a glance down and begins to scan your leg for the umpteenth time.

You reply with an exasperated shake of your head, though the motion is still fond. “It's my own fault, Mont,” you tell him, taking the lead and bringing them through the open turnstile that allows guests to leave, manned by a single, motionless S.T.A.F.F bot.

The gator stomps through behind you, grumbling something under his 'breath' that you miss beneath the S.T.A.F.F bot's generic, blaring address.

“Thank you for visiting Fazbear's Pizzaplex. Please, have a Faz-erific day.”

“Likewise,” you respond automatically before turning over your shoulder to address Monty again, “And it's not so bad-” Liar. “- If it was really hurting, I might've asked one of you to carry me.”

Freddy is the last to leave through the turnstile, tipping his hat politely to the smaller bot before he hurries up to your side again.

“Flowers was right,” Monty rumbles, lowering his optics to the cast on your leg, “You should'a gone straight home....”

With the main entrance mere steps away, you let out a sigh and draw to an unsteady halt in front of it. Beside you, the heavy animatronics do the same, their footsteps stopping in near-perfect synch. Hesitant, Monty turns his head towards you, his optics clicking open in surprise when he sees your hand rising steadily towards his face. He doesn't move a piston, holding his metaphorical breath as you lay a gentle palm on top of his snout and give it a slow, soothing stroke, right from his glasses to the tip of his nostrils. He has no throat to gulp, but his gears whir as he swivels his gaze from your hand to your eyes, vaguely registering the warm hum emitting from Freddy's chest.

“I'm glad I came here first,” you tell him, resolute, “For my own peace of mind, if nothing else. I wanted to see for myself that you were okay. That endo nearly ripped you to pieces.”

It takes the gator's sensors a moment to recognise your touch.

And when everything clicks into place, it takes all of his processing power to refrain from sagging like a big, green balloon with the air let out. This is the second time today you've willingly put your fragile, little hand close to his crushing jaws...

Worry. You'd described worry. You wanted to see that he was okay? He almost finds the notion inconceivable.

After all, he's Montgomery Gator. He... He doesn't worry about anyone, and nobody worries about him. That's the way it's always been...

He wants to smack Freddy with his tail when the bear announces pleasantly, “You were worried about him.”

As you turn to face the star, your hand still resting lightly on Monty's snout, the gator settles for whipping his optics up to glare at Freddy from behind your head -

- But he's stopped when you say, plain and simple, “Of course I was.”

Of course you were...

Of course.

“Well” you announce suddenly, drawing your hand from Monty's snout and returning it to the handle of your crutch, “I suppose I'd better get going before any else turns up to tell me I've made some bad decisions.”

The warmth from your hand disappears too fast, too soon, and Monty has to catch himself before he leans down to try and keep your palm attached to his nose.

Freddy's head dips in concurrence, regarding you with a soft fondness that sets the gator's fingers twitching. But at last, the bear drags his optics away from you and turns them instead to the open entrance and the carpark beyond. All at once, the easy-going lift of his jaw falls, his brows sliding together into the centre of his forehead as a troubled hum spews from his voice-box.

Following the line of his gaze, Monty soon discovers why.

The afternoon is slowly bleeding into the first touches of a cold, dark evening, and the sky overhead has grown heavy with grey clouds. Snow falls lightly from above, not enough to be of any concern to the traffic on the well-gritted roads, but enough that they can several humans meandering back to their cars, rubbing their gloved hands together and wrapping brightly-coloured scarves around their children's necks as they exit their vehicles.

“Looks like we're in for another cold one,” you remark, drawing Monty's attention down to you.

Shifting on his actuators, the gator casts a fleeting look between you and the world beyond the Plex's main entrance.

This is it, he supposes. You'll be going home now... To a place that's entirely foreign to him, filled with unknowns and unpredictability.... A place where anything could potentially happen to you, and he'd have no idea until word eventually reached him from the staff gossip chain...

Why has it only just occurred to him that the outside world might be a dangerous place? He's never considered that possibility before, not once.

“You comin' in tomorrow?” he finds himself asking before he can mute his voice-box.

Puffing out your cheeks, you blow a noisy breath through your lips before giving a wince and replying, “Not sure I can, big guy. The doctor said that fractured ankles take about eight weeks to heal.”

Eight weeks?

Now, Montgomery would never claim to be a scholarly type of bot, especially in the realm of mathematics, but he does have the advantage of having a computer for a brain.

Eight weeks? That calculates to fifty six days. Roughly thirteen hundred and forty four hours...

Damn. That's... a long time for you to be absent. Why, anything could happen in eight weeks...

“You, uh...” the gator starts fumblingly, half distracted by Freddy's stare that refuses to shift away from the side of his face. Still, he manages to cough out the rest of his question in an awkward mumble. “You gonna be okay? You got someone lookin' out for ya at home, right?”

“Well, my fish haven't let me down yet,” you laugh, though the sound quickly peters out into a hum once you catch both Monty and Freddy peering down at you, neither quite as amused as you seem to be with your own little joke.

Sharing a look between themselves, Freddy is the first to return his attention to you and tentatively ask, “You live alone?”

Balking, you offer the bear a hesitant chuckle and reply, “Bit of a personal thing to ask someone, isn't it?”

Plastic brows click down into a long, stern line, like a father on the cusp of gently scolding his brood.

“Y/n...” he starts.

“No need to make it sound so dramatic,” you interject lightly, “Lots of people live on their own.”

“Hmm... I don't mean to pry,” he says, raising a large, careful paw and laying it down on your shoulder, a warm gesture that puts a brief ache of longing deep inside your chest, “I only ask because I'd like to know that there's someone there who can take care of you.”

Slowly, your eye swivels sideways to peer at the inhuman appendage engulfing your shoulder. Something in your ribcage shifts, like a blockage coming unstuck and letting clear, healthy waters run freely for the first time in a while.

You have to squeeze your eyes into a hard blink before they can grow too misty.

Sniffing up at the towering animatronic, you raise your own hand and lay it over the top of his, giving the smooth, sturdy plastic a pat. “You're a good sort, Freddy, I hope you know that.”

The bear's ears twitch forwards and his upper jaw lifts slowly, sending your smile right back at you.

“But,” you add pointedly, “You don't need to worry. I'm sure Andy will stop by every now and again to make sure I'm still in one piece.”

“I certainly hope so,” he utters warmly, right before he throws another blow at your quivering heart, “You're part of the Fazbear family. We take care of our own.”

Unseen by either of you, Montgomery stands a few feet away, observing the interaction with a growing sense of disquiet. Deep in his innermost circuitry, he can already feel that familiar, old monster raise its ugly head, it's hue a sickly green that's awfully reminiscent of his own paint-job. It growls inside his stomach hatch, bulging outwards threateningly as Freddy's paw remains on you.

But at least this time, the monster isn't given too long to fester.

In another second, Freddy slides his hand from your shoulder and steps back, returning his optics to the car park outside. Gradually, with a subtle creak of metal, Monty's jaws unclench and he twists his head around to follow the bear's line of sight, listening to the rumble of a distant engine creep closer.

Through the wintery gloom, a sleek, black car turns off the main road and passes beneath the neon sign that welcomes visitors to the Plex. Monty squints at it, his eye drawn to the illuminated, white box sitting on top of the roof that simply reads, 'Taxi.'

“Reckon that's your ride,” he mumbles.

Humming through closed lips, you bob your head in a nod. “Looks like.”

Admittedly, it's a relief to see the car pull in. Your legs are beginning to quake under the effort of keeping yourself upright for far longer than you really ought to have.

Movement at your side draws you back to the animatronic bear, whose friendly, blue optics are shuttered half-closed, his broad shoulders slumping dolefully as he bends himself down and opens his arms, paws upturned in invitation.

The gesture is so plain and comprehensible, entirely human in its execution.

He's asking you for a hug.

And, well... Who are you to deny the face of Fazbear Inc. a farewell hug?

Freddy regards you with a hopeful waggle of his ears when you smile, hobbling across the meagre distance between you, well within the circle of his arms. Uttering a pleasant hum, he loops his hands behind your back and gently scoops you into his chest. Just like that, you're surrounded by the bear's convivial warmth that does wonders to chase away the biting wind slipping under the Plex's entrance to chill your cheeks and fingertips.

Sinking into Freddy's chest, you let out a contented hum, pinching your eyes shut as he does the same, his baritone voice thrumming through the ear you've pressed to his casing.

“Take care of yourself, won't you?” he rumbles, his chin alighting delicately on top of your head, “The better you do, the sooner we get to see you again!”

It never ceases to amaze you how an animatronic can inject so much humanity into even their most mundane of actions and words. Freddy's expressions of genuine kindness are as authentic as any human's. Of course they are. The AI that was implemented into him was designed to learn from the very species that created it. How can anyone say his compassion is only artificial? Kindness doesn't care whether the one wielding it is human or robot.

Breathing a deep, sigh, you sink deeper into Freddy's embrace, selfishly indulging in a comfort you've been desperately seeking since the trauma of last night's attack.

Of course, with a certain animatronic alligator in the vicinity, this peaceable moment was never destined to last very long.

“A'right, a'right,” Monty complains loudly, his claws sinking into the hem of your shirt to ease you backwards out of Freddy's grasp, “That's enough. You're gonna squeeze the air outta 'er if you keep that up.”

Rightfully aghast, the bear reels his head back as if Monty had struck him, exclaiming, “I would never!” Yet even still, his arms slowly peel open from around you, allowing the gator to pull you free and nudge you towards the open entrance.

“Not to worry, Freddy, you were very gentle,” you tell him kindly before throwing Monty an expectant look, eyebrows raised and arms held in much the same way as Freddy just had, “What about you, Mont? Can I interest you in one of these?”

A very small, hidden part of the gator that he doesn't want to examine too closely is immensely pleased that you'd been the one to offer. He isn't sure his pride would be able to stomach it if Freddy were to witness him admitting that he wants a hug before you leave. Despite popular belief, Monty is a hugger... He just... doesn't get as much opportunity to do so as the other animatronics.

Still, he exactly show his hand so publicly, especially with Fazbear breathing down his neck. Folding his arms across his chest, Monty gives a dismissive snort and shrugs his massive shoulders, mumbling, “Sure, fine. If you wanna, I guess.”

He doesn't know if his faux-reluctance fools you or not, but in the next few moments, he finds he doesn't much care, not when you hobble close to him on the crutches and topple forwards into a hug that forces him to the throw his arms out to catch you with a soft 'oof.'

Startled, the gator stares down at the top of your head as you sink against his inflexible frame, moulding yourself to him as if he was designed to perfectly accommodate you, and you alone.

Now, Monty has hugged children before, those that have been brave enough to ask the massive gator with sharp fangs and even sharper claws. But this, he realises, might just be the first time he's ever hugged an adult. It feels... different.

Your hands aren't sticky, for one.

Worn, calloused palms wrap around his midsection, as far as your arms can reach, and the gator's core nearly overloads when you turn your face to the side and press your cheek against his chest.

Dimly, he registers that he has yet to actually lay his hands on you.

The gator's optics swivel between each of his raised appendages, fingers splayed out as they hover over your shoulders without direction. He notices his claws. They look... sharper than they had before. They look dangerous, especially now that he's seeing them against a backdrop of soft, fragile skin.

He would never hurt you...

But that's what he thought last night, and still, he'd been the one to fall upon your leg.

It's only when you start to pull away that he suddenly realises that this moment – this wonderful, overwhelming moment – is about to end. Desperation to keep you to himself for just a few more seconds gives the gator enough courage to curl his claws into his fists and press his knuckles into your back, his head tipped low to nudge his chin into the back of your neck.

The only sound you emit is a subtle huff of amusement before you return to your original position, giving him a firmer squeeze.

“Thanks, Monty. I needed this...” you mumble against him, giving him the out.

Working his jaw silently a few times, he eventually manages to reply, “Don't, uh... don't mention it.”

And then, just like that, it's over.

You pull back, and he lets you this time, his knuckles sliding carefully across the back of your shirt until you lean back far enough that he loses his grip, and his arms flop back to his sides with a creak of metal.

“Right!” you announce, blinking rapidly and shaking a weary smile onto your face, “And on that note, I'll see you guys soon.”

You start to turn towards the exit, raising a hand off one crutch to return the little wave that Freddy gives you, but before you can limp another step, the gator once again gives you pause.

“Hey... Before you go.. I, uh...”

You stop mid step, easing yourself about to face him again and sending him another expectant look.

For some time, he hesitates, yet when your eyes start to flick between he and the taxi outside, he balls his hands into fists and eventually mumbles out like a petulant teen, “I wanted to... to thank you, or whatever.”

“Thank me?” you echo, knitting your brows together, “For what?”

'For what...' He almost huffs in dark amusement. How can he sum it up in a few words, all the things he has to thank you for?

Monty's large hands fiddle idly with one of his spiked wrist-bands for a moment as he tries and fails to look you directly in the eye, hiding behind his glasses. “I spoke to Flowers...” the gator eventually sighs, “He said he wouldn't'a checked my visual feed if you hadn't told 'im it wasn't me that attacked you.”

“What else was I going to do?” you huff, giving him an amused smile, “Let you take the fall for something you didn't do?”

For several, quiet moments, he doesn't respond, merely drops his gaze to the floor between you and gives his shoulder struts a halfhearted shrug. It occurs to you, suddenly, that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have been surprised if you'd done exactly that.

“Oh. Monty-” you start, reaching out a hand.

“Ah, s'nothin',” he says gruffly, though he doesn't stop you when you touch your fingertips to the side of his dangling arm, taking care to avoid the spikes on his wrist band, “Just... Just... Thanks. Y'know? For havin' my back.”

The worry on your face stays for a few more moments, just long enough that he catches it when his optics find your eyes again, but soon, you allow your expression to soften, pressing your fingers a little more firmly against his casing. “Thanks for having mine first,” you shrug, lips quirked, “I mean, what are friends for, right?”

Quick as a flash, one of the gator's brows slides up his forehead. “Friends?” he parrots.

“Oh,” you fumble, casting your mind out like a net searching for the right word, “I mean... what, colleagues?”

Leaning back on his leg struts, Monty regards you coolly for several seconds, peering at you over the rim of his glasses before he snorts softly, one side of his mouth tugging up into a smirk. “Nah...Friends is fine. 'Sides, reckon you've earned an upgrade.” He drops an optic in a lazy wink.

Taken aback, you consider the bot in front of you, recalling the ferocious sight of the colossal animatronic who bore down on you in his green room not so many nights ago. Montgomery Gator, Monster of the Pizzaplex, has just claimed you for a friend.

Perhaps a few days ago, you might've been perturbed by such a revelation, but now, despite the agony working its way up your leg, despite the heavy cast and the stinging ache behind your eyes, and your worry for the daycare attendants, Monty's little acknowledgement sits like a bubble of light in your chest.

Gratitude swelling, you cock your hip and fondly reply, “Lucky me.”

The tender moment is ruined in an instant when, from outside, a loud, blaring horn blasts across the car park, causing you and the two animatronics to whip your heads in the direction of the taxi, whose driver has his arm sticking out the window, beckoning to you impatiently.

“Whoops,” you laugh, “That's our time. Andy must have told him to be on the lookout for a girl on crutches.”

With that, you're once again shuffling through the building's wide exit, only this time, Monty doesn't attempt to stop you, perhaps realising that he's gleaned all the extra time from you that he can.

“Oh, before I forget!” Twisting back to face the bots who're still standing vigil by the entrance, you call out, “Monty, can you let the DJ know what happened? And Triple M too! I don't want them thinking I've forgotten about them again.

Standing to attention, the gator knocks off a quick salute and shouts back, “Consider it done, lady!"

You throw him a wave in response before you turn back to the taxi and continue making your way over the frost-covered tarmac, away from the Pizzaplex, and away from the gator who stares after you with tilted brows and a mellow longing worming its way through his wires.

Together, he and Freddy watch you throw your crutches into the back of the car, then clamber in after them, and all the while, Monty finds himself stewing over how the driver hadn't stepped out to assist.

Grumbling to himself, he crosses his arms over his chest, tail lashing in agitation behind him.

"I don't like to think of her dealing with this by herself," Freddy murmurs at his side, ears tilted back at an angle conveying his worry, "I do hope she'll be all right..."

For once, Monty finds that he actually agrees with the bear.

"Yeah..." he utters, his optics tracking the glowing, red tail-lights of the taxi as it swings around the car park and turns right onto the main road, "Me too..."

#Fnaf #fnaf security breach #security breach #fnafsb #On the Ropes #Montgomery Gator #reader #Monty x reader #Freddy Fazbear #Glamrock Freddy #Fluff and angst #hurt/comfort #protectiveness #anger #violence #Five nights at Freddys #Feedback always always greatly appreciated

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

Text

All Goes South

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe is overworked, tired, exhausted and just... he needs a break. Everyone knows it, too. None of it is really exciting to him anymore. Then, he meets you, and something reignites within him.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader, angst, mentions of smut

Author’s note: Here's part 4! There's girlies who have started to figure some shit out and are leaving me beautiful theories in my askbox - I love it. Also, I am sorry.

Wordcount: 4.7k

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It felt totally dodgy to be waiting by a dirty steel door on the side of the building, one that could only be opened from the inside, and was away from all the hustle and bustle of press and actors and all the crowds of people.

Joe told you to wait for him there.

He'd sneak you in.

"You snuck me out of something, let me sneak you into something," Joe had said.

"Have you got a ticket for me? What if they check?"

Joe laughed, said, "You've never been to a film premier before, have you?"

"Obviously I fucking haven't, Jesus Christ, Joe,"

You didn't know what that meant. Did they not check tickets? Did they only do that at the door? Would Joe wait until the film started to come and get you? You had no clue, but Joe said to wait there and he'd come and get you. Promised you he would.

You checked the time. Any minute now Joe was meant to let you inside.

Realising that you looked a little nervous, you thought perhaps you shouldn't be so jittery and be looking around so much. That made it look like you were being sneaky. Best to act very casual. Just lean against the wall, like you're meant to be there.

Your phone buzzed in your hand. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw it was from Joe.

"They're doing popcorn. Sweet or salty?"

Of course they fucking do popcorn, this was a cinema, wasn't it?

"Can I be annoying and ask for a mix?"

Joe read your message, but didn't reply.

This was so stupid.

Just when you were about to get antsy enough to consider leaving, there was movement. Metal creaked and with a shove, the door opened roughly, revealing Joe, who'd pushed the door open with his shoulders, holding two striped popcorn boxes.

He looked really good. All dapper. Handsome. Fuck.

His eyes were large and he winced at the loud noise the door made, immediately checking behind him. Then he beckoned you with his head and you slipped into the building, now crossing a barrier, definitely breaking rules, illegally trespassing to see a film you had no right to see.

"Most people have gone inside, we should be good. Walk ahead of me, I'll tell you where to go,"

And so like you were some assistant, someone guiding Joe throughout the building, you walked ahead of him and listened as he whispered, "Up the stairs," "Take a left," "Door on the right," and your heart thumped heavily in your throat as you walked past some people in designer outfits who stood together and talked. Celebrities. No one really paid attention to you though, and behind you, you heard Joe say hi to them. You feared maybe someone would stop him, rope him in for a chat because then what would you do? Would you keep walking? Sort of aimlessly keep wandering?

They didn't stop him. Thank fuck.

Joe lead you up another set of stairs to a little balcony that only held 8 red plush cinema chairs, and it was very clear that it wasn't meant to be used on this occasion. On the other side of the theater you saw a the other balcony was empty too, and it made you relax a little. There was no way people were going to see you up there.

This was exciting. Made you whisper, "Oh my God," a lot, which in turn, made Joe grin impossibly wide.

Joe sat down, and you did too - quickly, because being this close to the banister made you feel a little exposed standing up. There were previews playing for upcoming films you'd never heard of, all very exclusive.

"Sweet and salty," Joe whispered and handed you both the boxes of popcorn.

"What?" You were about to say, this isn't what you meant. But then Joe took the top of one of them and lifted it out of an empty box that you were then still holding. Like he knew exactly what he was doing, he tipped a little from one of the full boxes into the empty one. Joe then waited, and when you didn't do anything, he tapped the full box of popcorn in your other hand.

Oh. Yes, of course. You tipped some of that in, and then Joe again, and then you, until there was 1 box of sweet and salty popcorn, just how you liked it. It was sort of dark, and this had every potential to get messy, but you'd been surprisingly steady-handed given the situation you were in.

It was very apparent that this was weird. You'd met Joe the night before, not even 24 fucking hours ago, and under questionable circumstances as well. And now he'd smuggled you into a place you definitely weren't meant to be, and it was exciting but nervewracking.

Joe tipped whatever was left into a box together and discarded the empty one to the side.

You gave each other a look, one that said, this is mad and so so dumb, and you both had to repress giggles. You were about to watch a film with a bunch of celebrities - none of which you could see, the room was dark, and you were up high on a balcony trying to hide from them, but even just knowing that they were down there was thrilling to you.

But then the film started, and about ten minutes in, your mind was elsewhere. Racing. You were going to be sat next to Joe for about two hours. In the dark. Just the two of you. In silence. All sober.

You couldn't focus on the film at all.

Because you were sat next to Joe. And it was just the two of you and you'd had sex.

Twice.

And now... so, um... now what?

It kind of felt like doom overtook you, and you let it all go south. What if someone was to come up here and catch you? How much trouble would you be in? How much trouble would Joe be in?

You were hyperaware of the man next to you, tried your best to relax, but, it just wasn't going to happen, was it?

About 45 minutes into the film, your leg was bouncing, and you and Joe had just silently stared at the screen. Ate popcorn. Hadn't touched each other once. Which, you know, was fine, because your hands were exceptionally clammy.

You didn't know how to be around Joe. How to act. What to say.

You were strangers to each other.

Complete strangers.

At a particular funny bit in the film, Joe laughed and looked at you, but saw you were sort of... staring into space, not even paying attention to whatever was happening on screen at all. Uncomfortable energy radiated from you as you fidgetted with your fingers, and Joe thought he recognised an anxiety attack, so he reached to squeeze one of your hands.

"Hey, you want to get out of here?" he whispered, his face soft but serious. No playing.

You snapped your head and looked at him, a little panicked and definitely awkward. What was he insinuating?

"Um, no, that's okay, we can stay,"

Joe huffed a breath through his nose, and whispered, "I didn't mean let's get out of here wink wink nudge nudge, I meant, you seem anxious, let's leave, get some fresh air."

You blinked at Joe for a moment, thought things over in your mind and then decided, um, yea, you should probably leave.

"Yea, all right," and you were already up on your feet leaving Joe to feel guilty for not having noticed the state of you sooner.

You walked out the main entrance together, unafraid of getting caught, because you were already on your way out anyway. Outside people were packing up large metal barriers and rolling up the red carpets and even though you were in the middle of the city with questionable air quality; breathing in cold air was nice.

You crossed your arms and hugged them tightly to your body as Joe guided you with a hand that hovered behind your lower back towards a road where you could get a cab. You said something about the film, tried to excuse your nervous demeanor and Joe politely engaged in conversation. Made you feel like it wasn't a big deal, said he wanted to get an early night in anyway.

Whilst you waited for a taxi, you stood close to each other, but didn't touch, and it felt a bit strange. You were doing this whole thing backwards and all of it felt wrong.

"I meant what I said you know," Joe suddenly said.

You looked up at him, confused. You didn't know what he was referencing and it made Joe swallow thickly. You were going to make him say it. Sober.

"I don't think we made any mistakes... you're not–" Joe coughed into his hand and you couldn't help repress a smile as you noticed he seemed a little nervous too. "You're not a mistake."

You laughed, loudly. It was all nerves that bubbled up out of you, and then you scrunched your nose up at him.

"Yea, well... we'll see,"

And it was silly, but you felt a little fragile when Joe then grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him on the back of your laughter. He enveloped you into a hug and then just kind of... held you, for a moment. Joe held tight arms behind your back, and then, he moved one up to cradle your head and press it against his chest so he could perch his head upon it.

You didn't even really care about the empty cabs whizzing past. Joe was holding you and it was warm and it was nice and you released all tension in a deep sigh and actually, you kind of regretted not having touched him sooner. Not having kissed him sooner. You could've held hands in the cinema, but you hadn't, and now you felt stupid because, you dumb idiot, this was so nice.

When you felt Joe pull back a little, you moved your head to look up at him and you were embarrased as you smiled at each other. Joe was all kindness, his eyes told you he understood, even if you didn't even fully understand yourself.

God, you just... you just really wanted to kiss him.

You only had to move up onto your tippy-toes a little bit for Joe to naturally dip down for a kiss. And fuck, it was so soft. Joe kissed you with so much feeling, you almost wanted to whine into it. You could've been doing exactly this in the dark, in private, up on a balcony but now, instead, you were stood by the side of a busy street and that was the mistake. Because you kind of wanted to grab Joe by his hair, drag him into a taxi with you and kiss him deeper, and harder, and lick his mouth all over until you were all wet and panting.

But you couldn't.

Because you were out on the street.

And you were going home alone.

When you finally broke your kiss, because honestly, it was getting a bit much, Joe looked past you, waved a high arm, and a cab pulled up.

"All right, well, let me know if you need sneaking out of something again," you joked as Joe opened the door for you.

"You sure?" Joe challenged with a smile. "You're gonna be busy then, because I've got a lot coming up,"

And you smiled at each other as you sat down and Joe closed the door for you.

You gave the driver your address and Joe bent over outside your window, pressed a kiss against his fingers and then pressed his hand against the glass. You did the same, and it was all sorts of adorable, until the taxi pulled up and drove off.

Ugh.

Yea, all right. You liked Joe. You liked Joe a lot.

Maybe you should've just gotten drunk again before you'd gone to meet Joe outside that steel door on the side of cinema. Everything would've been easier and maybe would've felt more natural if you'd been drunk together.

It was only seconds later when you received a text message.

From Joe.

"I've got a TV recording on Thursday"

It was quickly followed by another.

"Want me to sneak you in so you can sneak me out?"

Over two weeks passed where Joe snuck you into TV recordings, award shows, film premiers and other industry events.

Two weeks of nerves and anxiety but also fun and actual butterflies.

There was no denying, there were actual butterflies and you were trying your very bestest best to ignore them, but sometimes, Joe would text you and say he was making dinner and you should come over and then you would.

And then you'd have dinner together at Joe's house, and would maybe play footsie under the table, and maybe, if you were lucky, you'd kiss in the kitchen after you'd loaded up the dishwasher together.

You'd not said it in so many words, but it felt like you agreed to take things slow. Slower, at least.

You'd only had sex one more time after that first night, and it was in Joe's shower.

Thinking back to it, it almost felt impossible to explain to yourself how you'd gotten there, and it was easy to pretend it hadn't happened. All of it had just... washed down the drain. Had disappeared. Wasn't really there anymore.

Except obviously, it was very there.

And Joe was very handsy.

Always so very handsy.

You kind of loved it.

Joe took you to all things Joe didn't really want to go to, didn't really want to do at all, but your giddy little face whenever you'd set foot on a set, or in a green room, or got to meet someone you admired was so fun to witness. He just wanted to show you everything. Have you experience everything. Make you see how fun things could be, even if he'd kind of forgotten himself since he'd grown kind of tired of it all.

That was why you also never stayed long. The second Joe felt like he could leave, you'd sneak out together. Sometimes Joe would see you grow anxious past the point of it just being a bouncy leg, and he'd leave before he was allowed to. Most of the time unseen.

He'd gotten used to the habit of turning his phone off just before he'd run off to avoid any and all contact from his team.

You never felt okay about that, always felt a bit guilty. Never wanted Joe to get in actual trouble.

But Joe didn't care. Joe just wanted to make sure that you were okay.

And thanks to him, you always were, but there was always a thought that lingered. What if this time, it wasn't going to be okay? What if this time, it was going to change everything?

You thought everything was going to change when Joe texted you, "Are you busy tonight?" and you looked around your small, dingy flat before answering,

"Other than falling asleep to bad TV and sleeping off this splitting headache, not really"

You'd just finished doing dishes and were quite literally excited to lay down on your sofa and not move for the rest of the evening.

"Sounds lush, come do that here"

Joe hadn't yet been over to your place, and you'd been weird about it that first night, so Joe had never asked to come over again. You were glad; your place was a filthy shoebox compared to Joe's home. A really grimy one, all sorts of drab, with a messy flatmate, because who the fuck could afford a flat in central London as an undergrad?

You sent Joe a pic from your position on the sofa, your legs spread out with your ankles crossed on the coffee table.

"Don't wanna move"

"Text your address again?"

Joe made that sound all kinds of casual. You'd never texted Joe your address before, and him coming over to your place was definitely not what you had planned for. You probably would've hoovered had you known earlier in the day. Now? Not a chance.

Joe'd dropped you off after a photoshoot once, so he vaguely knew whereabouts your lived, but he'd never been over.

You knew you'd hate yourself for it later. Joe had no business being in your dirty little flat. But you didn't reply with a joke, or a sly comment, or even something flirty. You just texted your address, because, actually, you really fucking wanted to snuggle up to Joe, even if that meant Joe was going to see your unhoovered flat, and maybe meet your flatmate.

When Joe entered, it was obvious to him why you needed a proper job. He didn't comment, but you could see him look, which was fine - you'd looked around his place the first time you'd seen it too. Different reasons, of course, but, whatever.

He joined you on the sofa, and tried to make polite conversation. Said he brought gin, because he knew it was your favourite, but you hardly reacted. You weren't joking before when you said you had a headache. And so Joe dropped it. Just sat next to you and was happy he got to be close.

That was all he wanted anyway. To be close.

It didn't take long before you found yourself nodding off, head bobbing, jerking itself back up every time it fell forward. You were fighting off yawns and kept rubbing your face in a weak attempt to stay awake. It was hard work, and your headache started getting worse, but you had a guest over, and it was rude to just fall asleep next to them, so you fought against all insticts until you heard a soft chuckle from Joe.

"You're allowed to sleep, you know? Come, lay down,"

And then he offered you his lap.

So much for taking things slow. Sure, you weren't about to deep throat him, but that was some close penis-to-face interaction you were about to get involved in.

But you were so tired.

And you really liked Joe.

So you moved, and scooted, and your head found Joe's lap. Four arms worked together to cover you with the throw blanket, and before you knew it, Joe's hand was patting your hair, and then a kiss got pressed into it before he sat back up.

His hand remained, and fingers raked, brushed and softly played and all of it made you fully relax. Turned you into putty. Made you melt into Joe's touch. Nothing was going to beat this. Ever.

It only took you a few seconds to drift away. To float. To hover in flight, the wind keeping you stationary. Somehow you felt yourself slipping away from Joe whilst simultatiously moving towards him more.

Joe made small comments about whatever you were watching, but his voice was a faraway thing that melted over you a little. You drifted and floated and hovered until you found yourself in this bubble where it was just warmth, comfortability and tingles from scalp scratches. Your thoughts went fuzzy, and you didn't think about how you always seemed to self-sabotage everything in your life. How you always pushed away whoever was trying to get close. In your bubble it was safe, and Joe was allowed inside, and nothing could hurt you in there, in Joe's hands.

Teetering on the edge of falling asleep, Joe noticed your breathing had become steady and slow, so he pulled his hand away, afraid that his touch would wake you back up. But the second his fingers stopped playing, you stirred, hummed, and then blindly reached behind your head to find it and place it back. It made Joe's chest swell. Made him think things, like he wanted this forever, like he wanted to kiss you. Cuddle you. Inhale you. Be close. Forever be close.

Joe was in trouble.

Trouble had found him in the form of a pretty girl and Joe was absolutely fucking gone for you.

You thought everything was going to change then, but it hadn't. Not at all, actually.

Then, you were convinced everything was going to change when, after a long day at the office, you really wanted to have a long bath. Just sit in a tub for an hour, submerged in hot bubbles that smelled like a Lush store. Except your flat didn't have a tub. Obviously, it didn't. So, you texted Joe.

"Am I allowed to come over and just sit in your bath for an hour?"

Joe read the message fast enough, but didn't reply quite as fast. So you followed up with,

"Nothing weird, just had a long day and want a bath but I don't have one 🥺"

And then Joe texted back, "Hurry up" along with a picture of his bathtub with the taps already running.

Joe pretended to be so normal about having you naked in his bath upstairs, all covered in bubbles, but it was so obvious that he absolutely wasn't normal about it, because he kept walking in with a different excuse each time.

The first time, he brought in a mug of tea and asked if you wanted music on.

The second time, he walked in with a handful of tealights which he placed around, lit, and then turned the big light off.

The third time, he walked in with a screwdriver in his hand, and he looked up at the ceiling. Like he was checking something that needed fixing.

"Joe,"

There wasn't anything that needed fixing.

"Nah, I think... I think it's fine," Joe concluded and he walked out again.

The fourth time, he did an insanely theatrical tip-toe walk over to one of the cabinets that he then started rummaging through.

"Joe, if you want to be in here, just, be in here, but be quiet, I'm trying to relax," you said with your eyes still closed.

Joe didn't need telling twice and immediately stepped closer and sat down next to the tub. When silence returned, you sighed deeply. This was nice. Baths were nice. So relaxing. The second you'd get a real job, you decided you'd start looking for a flat that had one.

You quickly grew uncomfortable, and when you opened one eye to peek, you saw it was because Joe had perched his chin on the ledge and was just, sort of staring at you all dreamily with an impossibly wide grin plastered on his face.

"What you thinking 'bout, Joey?" you closed your eye again and shifted a little to get more comfortable.

"Just," Joe sighed, "Just thinking about what I want,"

You had to fight off a smile.

"Oh yeah? Well... what do you want?"

You opened your eyes a smidge, just enough to see Joe's face, eyes half-lidded, biting both his lips into his mouth. You had an inkling where this was going, but Joe took his sweet time answering, so you raised your eyebrows in question to nudge him on.

He needed to say it.

"You."

Oh my God, he said it.

You thought everything was going to change then, when you grabbed Joe by his collar and pulled him into the bath, fully clothed, because you needed to kiss him. But it hadn't. It changed nothing at all.

And nothing changed when you noticed an impossibly long eyebrow hair, and straddled Joe on the sofa to pluck it. You groomed Joe, brushed his eyebrows up to check if there were more hairs that needed plucking, and Joe loved your focused little face all up close. He didn't love the plucking, but he loved how afterwards you kissed it better and he got to tickle you until you were under him and he got to kiss you on the sofa for a little bit.

And nothing changed when you slept over again, and Joe had woken up before you did and he was so stupidly in love, he could just stare at you for hours. He would trail fingers across your skin, down your arms, around your fingers, down your face and across your lips. Everything about you was so gorgeous, it gave him cute aggression, like he needed to sink his teeth into you.

And then, nothing changed when Joe watched you get ready to go to work after he had stayed over at yours for the first time. You were darting around the flat, from the bathroom to the kitchen, back into the bedroom where you did your make-up on the floor in front of your full length mirror and Joe was in bed still, perched up on an elbow, leaning to the side as he watched you.

"What?" you asked when you noticed he'd been looking at you apply your mascara.

"Where did you even come from?" Joe sighed, and you turned around to look at him a moment.

"The kitchen," you said dryly, and it made Joe laugh because, you had. You had come from the kitchen the first time Joe'd seen you.

Joe would sometimes still skip things. Call in with dumb excuses and his team had given up on asking him any further questions. They were glad he was attending more things than he had in a while, and let him have his moments of wanting to rest. Have nights in. Nights he spent with you.

And it was all good. Joe wasn't in trouble, and neither were you.

But then, everything changed when, on a Wednesday, Joe called you around lunch time and said, "Hey, you busy today?"

"I mean... am I ever?"

You both chuckled a little.

"Let me take you to this amazing cocktail place. You ever been to Savage Garden?"

"Oh, um... I don't know,"

"Their rooftop terrace is called the Pink Gin terrace, you're going to love it."

"Daytime drinking, Joe?" you sounded unsure.

"The view is amazing, it's right by the Tower of London. I'll pick you up in a bit!"

"Oh, but–"

You didn't get to finish your sentence and your face flushed with anxiety. Joe wasn't meant to be out daytime drinking. Joe wasn't meant to suggest you to go to a cocktail bar with you. Joe wasn't supposed to just... throw away his day like that.

But you couldn't come up with a good excuse to text him. Couldn't think of anything to get out of it. Couldn't tell him actually, no, you did have work to do, and maybe you could just... go drinking another time.

You couldn't go for drinks with Joe because Joe couldn't go for drinks with you.

You knew everything was about to change.

Everything changed when Joe picked you up.

Everything changed when you shared a cab.

Everything changed when Joe took up to the 12th floor.

And everything changed when Joe was about to have his first sip of his drink, but then, before he could, he lowered his glass as he looked over your shoulder and his face dropped.

Everything changed right in that moment, and it all changed for the worse.

"I'm so sorry," you started.

What was his fucking manager doing at the Pink Gin Terrace?

"What?"

"Joe, you need to know I never meant– it was all, it happened too fast, and then, you... I'm sorry, you need to know I'm so sorry," you rambled, and because you were pathetic like that, you started welling up.

"Alex?" Joe frowned.

"I had to let him know, you've got– ...it's your own film premier, Joe. You can't skip out on your own film premier... I–"

"Come on, Joe," Alex interupted, and he looked like a teacher who was about to give detention to a student he really liked. Didn't want to, but had to.

Joe moved his eyes from his manager over to you. From stern sort of sad eyes to apologetic guilty even sadder eyes.

"I'm sorry," you said again, wanted that ingrained into his head. Joe had to know you were so very sorry.

You tried to reach a hand, but Joe moved it out of your reach before he got up. He looked confused, but refused to make eyecontact before he started moving towards the exit.

"Thanks for your text," Alex then said to you. "I'll see you back at the office on Monday."

Then Joe snapped his head back to look at you.

Hurt.

It all imploded.

Everything changed.

The whole lot went south.

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #all goes south #icallhimjoey #part 4

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rapha-reads · 5 months

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The Church on Ruby Road [spoilers]

First of all: Fifteen is AMAZIIIIIING. I swear I'm going to try and be normal about him, but his energy! His joy! His connection to his feelings, the emotional depth! That moment when he says "I've adopted, I've just discovered that recently", and then his tears when he realises what happened to Ruby, and then how soft and gentle he was with baby Ruby.

I keep remembering Bill's words about Twelve: "With some people you can smell the wind in their clothes." - and that's exactly it with Fifteen. You can feel not only the age, the experience, the heartbreak and trials the Doctor has gone through, but also, and maybe more importantly, the healing, the love, the joy, the endless curiosity about the universe, the limitless desire to always learn and discover new things. Fifteen is the sum of all the previous Doctors, and he's carrying that weight, but he's also something new, something exciting. The trauma is still there, but he's not letting it weigh him down anymore. Even when he has a moment of doubt, when he says "Maybe I'M the bad luck", a previous regeneration would have left - he stayed and let Ruby make her choice. There's growth there.

We definitely are in a new era of Doctor Who. New New Who? New Who 2.0? Modern Who? Do we have a name yet or is still being debated?

Anyway, secondly. Ruby! Aw, she sounds so cool and kind! The mystery around her birth mother is thrilling without taking the precedent over anything else. Either her birth parents aren't that important, though it's Doctor Who - there's always something else, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's a Time Lord kid, or even the Doctor's child themself - or maybe Jenny's child, the Doctor's granddaughter? I'm just wildly theorizing at this point, never mind all of that.

What's interesting is her relationship with her adoptive mother. That scene where Ruby disappears and her mother forgets about her, and the colours themselves literally bleed out, and the joyful, kind, generous woman we've come to know suddenly turns bitter and sad and cold... Man, that scene messed me up. Makes you think about coincidences, about how and when you meet people and you can never know how important they are in your life, because sometimes the influence they have on you are so subtle, so diffuse, it's impossible to see it. Not the first time this happens in Doctor Who, though, time travel does have that impact. Butterflies and all that. But the impact is always the same heart-wrenching feeling.

Third, the language of rope! By which I mean, I was talking with my brother (huge Whovian like me), and he was telling me that he's a bit worried about RTD's decision to go towards fantasy stories. Well, magic is just another language, after all, isn't it? It's just science that we haven't been able to decipher yet. So, fantasy and science-fiction? They go hand in hand, actually. If the TARDIS is a wooden box that's bigger on the inside and can travel through time and space, then sure, why not, goblins exist, they eat baby, they can also move around time, and their science is the science of ropes and wood. Totally plausible in this world. Wouldn't be weirder than that time Ten met Satan in a pit, or Eleven had an ongoing feud with evil snowmen, or Twelve rode on Santa's sleigh, or Thirteen talked to a frog from another universe. That's cool. Love it.

Right. Well. I'm excited for this new series. It's shiny and fresh, it's something else! Moving forward without forgetting the past. And apparently we're going to meet the Beatles? I love historic episodes! And go to some new planets, meet some new aliens, deal once again with holes in the fabric of the universe (not new, but maybe done in a new way?)... This is going to be great. Next episode in Spring, though? At least it's not another full year of wait.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #doctor who christmas special #the church on ruby road #fifteenth doctor #ruby sunday #russell t davies #rapha talks #rapha is being a whovian #dw episode review #dw review #dw theories #whovian rambles

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tenaciousduckpoetry · 10 months

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ii. Caught in a Web

Previous Chapter here

Warnings: angst, reader isn't a good person, gender neutral, alluding to reader being morally grey, potential love triangle

A/n: 42 Miles is in bold.

"I just need to get home-"

You rolled your eyes.

"My dad is going to die!"

"And?" Your voice was filled with venom. Miles was so desperate. You were beginning to enjoy the pleading, panicked look in his eyes when he finally realised that you could care less in the moment. You offered a small smile, yet it wasn't comforting. "It's not my problem if your fucking dad dies." Your words came out harsh. The mention of Miles' dad had you glancing towards the other Miles, your Miles. He was hard to read, but with his brows furrowed and lips turned down, head tilted up, you knew your comment affected him in one way or another. You attempted to change the subject away from his dad. "You still haven't told us why you're here, Miles."

There was another flash of panic. What would happen if he mentioned the multiverse? The fact that there were people after him, lots of people whom would probably mistake the other Miles for himself. "I already told you! Please, I'm just trying to get home!" He groaned out, growing frustrated and annoyed, "I was trying to get home, and I ended up in the wrong universe." He finally admitted.

You weren't surprised. You figured that much out already. From the moment you saw him, to the moment you punched him in the face. Why else would Miles have a doppleganger? You seemed to be lost in your thoughts for a moment when your Miles spoke up.

"You work for someone?" He rose a brow, glancing towards the spandex suit his carbon copy was wearing before looking back into his eyes.

"No- no. Yes? No. Maybe." He stumbled over his words. "Listen, a bunch of other people like me are going to come find me. So, if you don't let me go you both are going to get in the middle of it." He tried to reason.

It looked as if you weren't listening, a cloudy look in your eyes. You were studying Miles so intensely. It felt like you had known him your whole life, and while you had known him in his universe, you didn't here. The feeling was uncomfortable and unexpected, something that left you with a subtle sense of curiousity to learn more about this undiscovered version of your best friend.

"Is our- sorry, your dad.. y'know?"

You quickly looked up to Miles, seeing the hesitant look in his eyes before he nodded. "Yeah. Place has gone to shit ever since." Miles frowned. "Mamá has been picking up more shifts at the hospital too." He figured as much. Maybe Miles wasn't as bad as he originally thought?

All while chatting up a storm with the alternate version of himself and you, he was working on the ties that held him to the punching back. He had gotten them loose enough to tug now. All Miles wanted was to get out of the restricting ropes that were now burning his wrists.

Your eyes ran from his face down to his arms. You then turned to your friend. "We could untie him.." you whispered, "What's he going to do anyway? He doesn't have a phone or a watch.. he can't contact anyone. Maybe he can help?"

You watched as his eyes widened. You were right. He couldn't contact anyone, and even if he wanted to fight his right shoulder was pretty banged up from his chase with Miguel. He heard the sigh that slipped past his doppelgangers frown and the quiet curse that followed.

They're going to let me go! The thought left as quickly as it came.

"Fuck. Okay."

You smiled.

"We're not letting you go. You're going to help us first, then we'll talk about freedom."

You knew he would agree with you, one way or another at the least. You moved around to where Miles was bound to the ever swaying punching bag. "You try anything and I'll hunt you down for sport, yeah?" Your words sounded so sincere, so Miles just agreed. He didn't want that to happen. Your hands brushed against his, inspecting the rope burn before you began to tug the loosened chords free.

Miles hissed as he fell to the floor, body glitching in a horrid fashion. Flashes of green, blue and red protruded from his body as he clutched his stomach. His mind flashed back to the moment of his first mission in Alchemex with Peter.

'Your cells are deteriorating as we speak. That must be so painful.'

Your brows raised and you almost felt pitiful. "You really aren't from here are you?" It was rhetorical. Your arm looped under his. You were quite strong, stronger than he expected as you helped pull himself up from the floor. There was a sudden urge to help him but you weren't entirely sure why. You chalked it up to the fact that he looked like your friend.

"What was that?" Miles spoke up. He looked at you and you almost went to open your mouth and answer until Miles beat you to it. "My atoms are deteriorating.." He sounded out of breath. Out of instincts you brought him over to the couch, helping him sit. For someone who had threatened to kill him just minutes earlier, you were being quite caring now.

Now being on the couch, Miles was able to finally take in his surroundings. Those speakers.. the purple couch, the red punching bag. This was his tio's place. "He's alive.." he muttered under his breath, eyes shutting for a moment to hold back any unshed tears that threatened to spill.

You and Miles squinted at him. Miles went to speak before there was a sudden knock at the door.

"I got it." You spoke quietly, nodding towards Miles who gave a small nod back. You walks towards the door as quietly as possible. You looked through the peep hole and your eyes widened. You turned back to Miles, shaking your head quickly.

"I know someone's in there!" The voice bellowed. That wasn't uncle Aaron's voice, Miles wasn't sure what to think anymore.

You moved back to Miles, watching as the other Miles stood up. You pulled your mask back over your face, watching as the two boys followed in suit.

"You take Miles. I'll take care of this." The prowler spoke, voice changed slightly deeper now that the mask was on.

"No- no. I'm not leaving you here. Something could happen-" Your sadistic tone from before turned into one of concern. So you really did care for him.. Miles smiled slightly, lost in his own thoughts until a bang came from the door. He jumped slightly. Why were his spider senses not helping?

"I'm not taking no for an answer. You need to watch Miles, make sure he doesn't try leaving just yet." He huffed out.

You went to object again, only to stop yourself halfway. You nodded. "Okay.. Be safe. Meet at the spot when you're done." You hummed.

You then turned towards Miles, your look sour again. You had practically began to drag him to the window. Shoving him onto the fire escape. He was shocked by your strength once again, however wasn't surprised at how pushy you were.

"You ready to fly?"

#hobie brown #dewdropwrites #x reader #astv headcannons #astv hobie #astv x reader #astv peter #astv miles #astv pavitr #astv spoilers #miles morales x reader #miles morales

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journey-to-the-attic · 2 months

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3rd anni req 3: [HSR AU] dh, bailu / vidyadhara family

ao3 link

note: this was a fun little crossover! this is sorta like the trailblazer ik au, except she's just in her home universe? i liked this prompt, but as a heads up i probably won't do anymore full other-fandom-aus, since i want to focus on ik and the jtta cast

ik here was awakened at the same time as stelle, but instead of om coming into the picture later, but there's an implication in this one that she knew the characters before being 'woken up' by kafka. haven't developed proper lore for this, but in this case the devildom would be another planet/world in the hsr universe

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

It’s odd, but Dan Heng feels relief when IK doesn’t seem to recognise Imbibitor Lunae.

Conveniently displaced just enough from everyone else to have missed all the action, she catches up just as they’re dispatching Jing Yuan for healing. Dan Heng steps back, suddenly self-conscious, and decides to let the rest of the Nameless do the talking.

He thinks at first that he might have gotten away with it - that he’s blended in with the other Xianzhou natives, and will be overlooked until Dan Heng (the archivist, the friend) can meet up with them on the Express. IK looks at him, shakes his hand, tells him it’s nice to meet him, then wanders off to have a look at the Ambrosial Arbor. She doesn’t even ask for his name.

More fool him for falling for it, he supposes.

While the Express is still parked by the Luofu, he doesn’t expect to go out much. He’d vowed long ago to never return to Xianzhou, and while his exile has been revoked, old habits die hard. That doesn’t mean he refuses to return at all, though, and so he hadn’t refused when Stelle asked him to accompany IK to the Alchemy Commission to visit Bailu.

Bailu’s been aboard the Express several times to hang out with its youngest passenger, and the kids have a habit of roping him into their games, so he thinks of it as more of the same. And he still doesn’t think anything’s up at first - he takes them around Aurum Alley, trades drinks with IK after Bailu successfully tricks her into trying mung bean soda, and doesn’t even question it when they abruptly suggest a change in location.

This is on me, he thinks, staring up at the statue of the High Elder with a mild grimace and a bitter taste in his mouth. Though that might be from the soda.

“...you’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” He asks.

IK gives him a look. “You’re only asking that now?”

“We took you all the way to Scalegorge Waterscape and you didn’t think anything was up?” adds Bailu.

He takes in the near-identical blend of stubborn seriousness on their faces, and can’t help but smile. He admits, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’ve been like that for ages,” adds IK. “Like you’re a million miles away. I was getting worried.”

She starts ambling down to steps to the rest of the Waterscape, and Bailu tugs on the hem of his jacket until he follows. “Remember when we sealed the Ambrosial Arbor, and all those echoes kept talking to you? I was worried you’d never want to come back to the Luofu after that…”

He shakes his head silently. He can’t think of what to say in response.

IK keeps walking for a while, then starts, “I’ve been reading about that Dan Feng guy. There isn’t a lot about him in the archive. Did you delete it?”

“I didn’t feel the need to record much of it in the first place.”

“The Vidyadhara pages are all really detailed, though.”

He hums. Bailu trips over a wide crack in the stones, and he steadies her by the shoulder without thinking.

“Did you know it was me before?” He asks after a while. “Were you just pretending not to?”

“It took me a while,” IK admits. “I looked at the statue, and he had the same hair and clothes and horns, but his face was all wrong. So I looked at you properly, and then I realised it was you.”

Dan Heng has looked up into that statue’s face before, and it’s like looking into a grey mirror. “...you don’t… need to do that for my sake. I know we share the same—”

“You don’t, though. It wasn’t making a Dan Heng face.”

Bailu looks up at him with an earnest nod. Dan Heng can’t find it in him to argue.

IK hops over a particularly deep puddle, then reaches over to help Bailu do the same. Dan Heng thinks Bailu could probably make it across just fine on her own, and he thinks Bailu knows this - but she stretches out her little arms, and lets herself be lifted across anyway. He crosses the same puddle easily, and contemplates something for a while.

The Waterscape is never quite silent, but it feels quiet as a graveyard right now. Several times since arriving at the Luofu, he’s found himself consumed by his thoughts - deep, thick, like wading through tar - but right now, he finds himself thinking of nothing at all.

“You know,” IK starts, “If you sort of look like him, and you have the same surname…”

“Are you suggesting that Dan Feng is my father?” He asks, amused.

“Maybe?” She grimaces. “Is that how it works?”

“Vidyadhara don’t really have parents,” Bailu says. “What do you think?”

“...I dunno. First thing I remember is waking up in the lab. Does that make my dad a test tube?”

Dan Heng thinks of what Stelle has told him - of how Blade knew her from before her own awakening. “Do you remember anything before that?”

“I don’t know. It’s all a giant blur. There’s Stelle, and there’s Miss Kafka…” IK thinks for a long while. “...and before that… there’s someone with big black wings, and it’s dark. But that feels more like a dream.”

“Vidyadhara dreams are supposed to tell you about who you used to be,” Bailu mumbles. “But mine are just really confusing. Dan Heng, what do you dream about?”

He stops walking. He doesn’t respond.

Dan Heng, by self-imposed rule, tries not to dwell too much on dreams. Dan Feng’s memories are murky - cold, pressing, like sinking deep into an icy ocean. The pressure builds until he feels he might explode, and then he wakes up.

When he’s lucky, he gets a nice memory - a sunny day, an evening drinking with friends. But Dan Feng died in pain, and so too do his dreams most often end in dull agony. He counts himself lucky to have not gone through the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, but he’s still unlucky enough to bear its scars.

Dan Feng is guilty. This much he knows - this much he learnt from the moment of his rebirth, and the cold chains of the Shackling Prison for years afterwards.

“...Dan Heng?”

The kids have stopped walking now. They’ve stopped just in front of another puddle. This one looks deeper than the rest - darker, too, as if falling in might drop them into the cloudy abyss below.

Without thinking, he crosses it with a single, long stride, then reaches across and carefully lifts IK across the gap. Then Bailu, too, and it’s only once they’re both looking up at him in confusion that he remembers where the conversation left off.

“I don’t dream of much happy things,” He says finally. It isn’t pleasant, but it’s the truth.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he feels a gentle smile on his face that wasn’t there before.

“I didn’t realise you were interested in the Vidyadhara,” He says to IK. “You know, you can just use the Data Bank whenever you like. You don’t need to sneak in while I’m not there.”

“I didn’t want to scare you,” She mumbles, and he almost laughs at the notion. IK is about as scary as a Wubbaboo. “Stelle told me it’s tricky for you to talk about. I didn’t want to just ask.”

She looks nervous now. He wonders how much Stelle might have exaggerated his own grievances. He might be haunted, but he doesn’t consider himself particularly tormented.

“I don’t mind,” He says, and it’s the truth.

IK’s a curious creature, and he often finds himself supplying her constant want for knowledge. This might as well be a tutoring session. He doesn’t think much of it - between one step and the next, he calls the transformation forward, and the dragon emerges with little more than a crystalline ripple.

The way IK reacts, though, you’d think he’d presented her with a tome of archaic knowledge. Her face lights up. Was she holding this back when she first met him in this form? Normally she’s frighteningly easy to read…

“Told you he doesn’t have a tail,” Bailu says, though she’s grinning brightly. He can’t imagine anyone else on the Luofu would be this delighted to see him like this.

“I do have a tail,” He sighs. “It’s just not convenient.”

“Tail?” IK repeats, barely above a whisper. Her excitement is palpable.

“...fine,” He acquiesces, and it shimmers into form behind him. IK’s clear delight - though silent - brings a small smile to his face. No wonder she made such fast friends with Bailu in the first place.

IK takes a step towards him - and, without thinking, he takes a step back. He only realises he’s done it once she does the same, ducking her head a little apologetically.

He hadn’t meant to. It’s just that— of all those pieces of the dragon who had been Dan Feng, it is Bailu who inherited his gentleness and healing. He only has the destruction. He can be here as a demonstration - like that statue before - but he can’t help but feel apprehensive about the hum of golden cloudhymn magic at his fingertips. Gold and red go hand in hand so easily.

“Dan Heng,” Bailu suddenly whispers theatrically. “It feels really nice when you get your horns scratched, you know.”

“...what?”

“Just giving you some High Elder wisdom.”

IK is giving him a different look now. It’s the same she wore when approaching Svarog for the first time, and it only went away when Clara asked the massive robot to let IK shake his hand.

There’s something like a protest in the back of his head. He ignores it and dips his head down.

He isn’t sure what his horns feel like, actually. Are they cold? Are they more crystalline, or porcelain?

Whatever it is, IK seems happy. It’s odd - she hides behind Stelle whenever they have to meet new people, but she never retreats from encounters with robots, or anything that could be termed an animal, monster, or creature by any other sense of the word.

This feels a little different though. The presence of trust feels distinctly different from a lack of fear. It feels… warm.

And it persists, even as they continue on their walk. Bailu tells IK some funny stories about the Arbiter General, and groans when he starts recounting the history of the murals (“I hear enough about those in my lessons!”). When he does, he almost forgets that he’s currently an enrobed High Elder, and not an archivist explaining another entry in the Data Bank.

They stop at some eggs, and IK says something about how it must be a shame to not have parents to raise you.

“Probably, anyway,” She adds after a moment. “I don’t really know.”

Dan Heng feels an odd tinge of sorrow. Bailu, meanwhile, huffs. “What do they even do?”

“Nag a lot, I think,” IK says, then puts on a funny voice. “A-Heng, no running in the street! A-Heng, no more sweets! A-Heng, do the dishes!”

“I’m older than you,” He mutters, though there isn’t any reproach in it.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone we meet’s older than me.”

“Maybe we’ll meet a baby one day. Then they won’t be.”

IK snorts. Then Bailu does the same - and then they both burst into a peal of laughter. Quite suddenly, he finds himself joining in, though more mellow, because that really is an odd thing to hear from such a regal-looking Vidyadhara’s mouth.

Their smiles are brighter than the sun, he thinks.

Later, they’ll have to return to the Express, and Bailu will be needed for her duties again. For now, they are at home in the Waterscape.

#3rd anni event #love how i said the reqs would be for 500-1000 word shorts when first proposing the event #and 2/3 so far have ended up 2k words #hsr dan heng #hsr bailu #jtta ik #jtta aus #trailblazer ik #writing

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yandere-fics · 1 month

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Y'know what. List time. Here's a list of fucked up things I would let the yans do to me.

Selene: drug me/get me drunk so she could take advantage of the fact I'm too weak to fight back.

Veronia: fuck the shit out of my face with her weird dragon dick, then switch over to her human one after she cums, double dosing me.

Kassien: Cut my legs off. I'd let her do it. I don't need them. If she promises to take care of me forever that will be my sign of ultimate devotion.

Eliza: mark her territory. You know what I mean. Otherwise I'd let her dick me down in wolf form if she promises to chase me through the woods first.

Bibi and Ainsley: They could do whatever they wanted to me and I would let it happen. I would smile and say thank you. I'd let them lobotomise me if they'd like to.

Pauline: I'd let her beat me up if she wanted. Like if she wanted to seem cool and tough I'd let her whoop my ass as long as she takes care of me afterwards.

Naga pauline: Ngl when I first read the naga Pauline fic I didn't realise at first that darling was going to stay in her room with her willingly. I originally thought she was going to lure darling in by pretending to be sick, only to shut the door behind you and keep darling as her own. I just assumed the other maids would go "oh well, she's dead". I'd let Naga Pauline do that to me.

Nora: Please tie me up 24/7 pleasepleasepleaseplease I'd literally let her keep me in a rope coccoon and keep me constantly bound so she can hold me and do whatever she wants with me.

Runa: Oh man... oh man... I'd be her little pet. I'd make that my full time job, walking on all fours, wearing stupid cat ears or something, just playing into all her gross fantasies.

-girlfailure

I don't drink(1, cause I'm not 21 so not supposed to technically speaking though that doesn't mean I haven't, 2, cause my acid reflux already makes me pukey.) but if I did I would so let Selene feed me bottle after bottle until I can't even walk on my own, also when I'm sick in the morning I would let her take care of me so she can use that to get even more sexual favors cause look she held my hair back like a good mate so i should do my part as a good mate and suck her dick even if i feel gross a bit still.

#girlfailure anon

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byersbootyshorts · 2 years

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in case you haven't seen vol2, this request kind of has vol 2 spoilers !! don't read ahead if you haven't seen it pls D:<

BUTTTT, i'm requesting an eddie fluff (kinda au) where the reader is with him and dustin, and as he takes off to be chased by the bats, reader goes with him and they fight them off together. eddie gets hurt pretty badly but lives, and reader takes him to their house and gets him all cleaned up. dustin even stays over because he thought for sure that eddie and reader were going to be killed, they all lay in reader's living room, reader and eddie cuddling on the couch, sitting up, while dustin just keeps his head on eddie's leg and falls asleep.

i just rlly miss my boy :(( him n dustin's bond is so beautiful and i just,, can't believe it.

- 🐯

I Can Be Your Hero

Summary: Eddie wants to be the hero, but you're not going to sit on the side-lines and watch him be torn apart. However, you will be there to put him back together again.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Warnings: VOL. 2 SPOILERS, mentions of injury, kinda fluffy, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Sorry it's been so long, I was on holiday. I've never written fluff before so I have no idea if this is good. Anyways, enjoy this and act like vol. 2 didn't happen because that's what I'm doing.

You were cornered. Demobats were bashing the walls of your boyfriend’s run-down trailer (well, the upside-down version) from all sides, desperately seeking a way in to feast on your flesh. You, Eddie and Dustin stood back-to-back, weapons poised, ready to attack when the bats finally penetrated through the trailer’s walls. All you could hear was the heavy breathing of the three of you and the hellish screeching of the bats. Eventually the noise faded and it seemed as though the bats were retreating.

‘Hey dipshits!’ Dustin yelled. ‘Give up that easy, huh?!’

‘Shh,’ you scolded.

‘Is that really necessary?’ Eddie whispered.

A second after Eddie spoke the demobats returned. This time they took a new approach.

‘They’re on the roof,’ you said, as the three of you followed the sound of the small creatures scratching the top of Eddie’s trailer. The scratching led you to a vent and suddenly terror pulsed through you.

The boys soon understood what had paralysed you in place as they too stared up at the small vent on the ceiling.

‘They can’t get in through there, can they?’

As though Dustin’s words were its cue a small demobat suddenly burst through the vent. Eddie practically jumped in front of you, wielding his weapon like a psycho. He began hitting the bat back up the vent. You and Dustin joined him, all three of you yelling to mask the fear coursing through your veins.

You soon realised Eddie was no longer beside you. You couldn’t risk looking away from the ceiling in case a demobat got through so you shouted, ‘Eddie?!’

‘Get out of the way!’ you heard him scream from behind you. You turned around and saw him running towards you, shield in hand. You grabbed Dustin and pulled him to the side causing you both to fall to the floor, allowing Eddie to block the vent with his makeshift shield.

‘Holy shit,’ Eddie mumbled, his voice barely audible.

‘Nice one,’ you said, scrambling up from the ground and wrapping your arms around Eddie.

‘Thanks,’ he replied, his voice muffled by your wild hair. He placed a kiss on your forehead as you held each other.

‘Uh guys,’ Dustin’s voice startled you. ‘I don’t mean to ruin the moment but, Eddie, are there any other vents in your trailer?’

Eddie’s hands fell from your waist and his eyes widened. ‘Shit.’

Eddie raced to his room, you and Dustin in tow. But it was too late. Demobats were swarming the room, more entering through the tiny vent as you all stood there, frozen by fear.

‘Let’s go!’ Eddie eventually shouted, pushing you out of the way and slamming the door. Soon the whole trailer began to shake as the bats tried with all their might to break through the door.

‘Go, Henderson, go!’ you screamed, pointing at the rope you’d made from sheets that led to safety.

Dustin didn’t hesitate to do as you said as he quickly scrambled up the rope and fell onto Eddie’s stained mattress that lay below (or was it above?)

You looked back at Eddie. He was holding his spear in one hand, shield in the other, preparing himself to battle whatever came through that door.

‘It’s not gonna hold,’ Eddie yelled, ready for the onslaught of bats that would be heading your way any second. ‘Hurry!’

Using all the strength you had left you hauled yourself up the rope. Your arms ached from exertion but Dustin’s encouragement kept you going. When you were almost at the surface you looked back down at Eddie. He was still facing the now almost obliterated door with seemingly no intention of turning around.

‘Eddie!’ you screamed, holding out an arm for him to join you. ‘Eddie, come on.’

Eddie turned around to face you, a determined look in his eyes.

‘You go and keep Henderson safe. I’ll catch up,’ he said quietly, grabbing your outstretched hand and placing a kiss on it. Your body tensed up.

‘No, no. I’m not leaving you here.’ Your voice broke as you imagined leaving Eddie here alone with hundreds of those deadly monsters.

‘Please, just go, Y/N,’ Eddie said sadly. ‘We haven’t given the others enough time. I need to keep distracting the bats.’

So many thoughts ran through your head. You couldn’t risk losing Eddie. But there was no way you could convince him to come with you. Suddenly you had an idea.

‘Well, if you’re not going, neither am I,’ you said, jumping down from the rope. Eddie’s face dropped.

‘No, no, no. Y/N, you have to go, please,’ Eddie whined.

The door to Eddie’s bedroom was now nearly completely gone and you knew you wouldn’t have enough time to climb back up anyway. But Eddie wasn’t going to accept that. Without thinking you grabbed the spear from his hand and cut the sheets so half fell to the floor and the other half fell into Dustin’s hands on the other side.

‘What are you doing?’ Dustin shouted up at you.

‘Just get somewhere safe,’ you yelled back.

And right at that moment, the bats finally got free, filling the entire trailer.

‘Run!’ you shouted, pulling Eddie after you. You burst through the door that led out into the dark, baron land of the Upside Down. ‘Get on a bike,’ you ordered Eddie while rushing to do the same. You began cycling away just on time as a swarm of demobats began rushing after you.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Eddie’s voice was strained as he tried to shout over the loud screeching of the demobats.

‘Did you really think I was just gonna leave you in here?’ you replied. ‘And anyway, we have a better chance if there’s two of us.’

‘I don’t think we’d have much chance against these things if there were twenty of us.’

You were thankful for the shields you’d made from trash can lids as demobats hit you from all sides. Without them you’d have been long dead. Your legs were beginning to burn as you continued to cycle for your life.

‘Listen, I’m sorry ok,’ you panted, your breathing rapid from your manic pedalling. ‘I know you were just trying to keep me safe but I couldn’t just let you die in here. We’re in this together, ok?’

But Eddie didn’t reply. His sudden silence made you sick with concern.

‘Eddie?’

You looked back, trying your best not to lose your balance, but stopped dead in your tracks when you realised your boyfriend was no longer behind you. Looking back, you saw a large swarm of bats circling something. That something was Eddie.

You began racing back to him, so annoyed with yourself that you hadn’t noticed him be hit from his bike by a huge bat. When you finally reached him, you threw yourself into the middle of the circling bats, put your back against his and began swinging.

‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you got hit,’ you yelled.

‘You should’ve kept going,’ Eddie said, his usual confident tone slightly less present in his voice. ‘I’ve got this all under control.’

But you could see that he didn’t. Blood was seeping from below his bandana and from what you could tell he seemed to be limping.

The two of you managed pretty well for a while, swinging your weapons at oncoming bats and using your shields to protect yourselves. But the bats kept coming. And there were hundreds of them.

‘They better hurry up,’ you said. ‘I don’t know how much longer we can do this.’

Every bone in your body was exhausted but somehow you kept going. The string of demobats hurtling towards you was relentless. All you could do was hope Steve, Robin and Nancy could get to Vecna before you got hurt, or even worse, Eddie.

As though somehow the bats heard your thoughts you abruptly no longer felt Eddie’s back against yours. He screamed as a group of demobats swarmed on top of him, pinning him to the floor. You felt helpless as you watched them tear at his clothes, some even gnawing into his skin.

‘Y/N,’ he called, his voice riddled with pain.

‘I’m trying,’ you replied. You wanted more than anything to get to Eddie, bat those monsters off him and help him but if you tried to do that then they were sure to get you too. All you could do was move towards Eddie and stand over him, stopping anymore bats from getting to him. However, that didn’t stop the creatures that were already on him from ripping him apart.

Every one of Eddie’s screams made you more and more frantic. You knew the minute you cut that rope that there wasn’t much chance for either of you to get out of there, but now you were in the moment, probably only minutes away from death, you had a new motivation.

Had you been alone you’d most likely have been killed already and you would’ve been okay with that if it helped save your friends. But you couldn’t let Eddie die. Maybe it was because you wanted more than anything for Eddie to get out of there and clear his name as a murderer, or maybe you were just selfish and knew you couldn’t live without him, but something took over you.

Before you even realised what you were doing you began pulling demobats from Eddie’s limp body.

‘Get. Off. Him. You. Stupid. Fucking. Bats!’ you panted. Adrenaline pulsed through you. Not even the flocks of bats scratching at your face could stop you.

‘Y/N,’ Eddie whimpered, his voice weak and shaking.

‘It’s okay,’ you said pulling a bat from his stomach and hurling it as far as you could throw. ‘It’s okay, I got you.’

But deep down you knew this would only work for a while. Each time you ripped a bat from Eddie, two more took its place. And now they were beginning to overpower you too. Your face stung with a thousand pin pricks where the creatures has scratched and bitten you. It seemed your efforts were in vain.

All you could do was hold Eddie as the bats enveloped you.

Except they didn’t envelope you.

Suddenly, there was silence. You lifted your head from Eddie’s chest to find all the demobats that had been slowly eating you both alive lying motionless on the ground.

‘What happened?’ Eddie asked, trying and failing to pull himself up.

‘I don’t know,’ you replied. ‘Let’s just hope the others killed Vecna. That would make all the bats die, right?’

‘To be honest, I don’t care how this happened. I’m just glad I’m no longer bat food.’ Eddie stifled a laugh but tensed up, grabbing his waist.

‘Stay still,’ you ordered, pressing down on his stomach to stop the bleeding. ‘We can stay here as long as you need to.’ You placed a kiss on his forehead.

‘Hey, what about your face?’ Eddie pointed at a particularly deep cut on your cheek. His eyes looked dazed from all the blood he’d lost.

‘I’m fine,’ you grabbed his hand in yours. ‘I’m more worried about how the hell we’re going to get you out of here.’

You looked around for something that could help you carry Eddie back to the gate. There was no way you could get him back on your own. Not in the condition he was in. But all you could see were hundreds of dead demobats.

And then, as if by magic, you heard the familiar yell of your young friend.

‘Eddie! Y/N!’

Dustin’s voice echoed through the entire Upside Down.

‘Dustin! Over here!’

As Dustin came into view you could see he was limping pretty badly.

‘How did you get back? I cut the rope,’ you asked as Dustin hobbled his way over to you.

‘I jumped,’ he said matter-of-factly, pointing at his swollen leg.

‘Hey Henderson,’ Eddie mumbled from the floor. ‘Sorry you missed the party.’

‘Holy shit, Eddie,’ Dustin knelt down beside his injured friend. ‘What did they do to you?’

‘Oh, you know, knocked me off a bike, ripped all my clothes, tried to eat me. Just the usual demobat stuff.’

Every time he spoke his voice seemed stronger, giving you a little bit of relief.

‘You think you can get up for me?’ you asked.

‘I can try.’

And so, you and Dustin spent the better part of an hour painstakingly helping Eddie back to the gate. Stops were frequent as he needed time to regain his strength but eventually you made it. However, actually getting up through the gate was even more difficult.

Dustin climbed through first, luckily this time with no further injury to his leg, and threw you the piece of tied together sheets that fell to that side of the gate. You tied the cut sheets back together and with great difficulty Eddie climbed through. You could see more blood seeping through Eddie’s ripped shirt and knew all that effort hadn’t been good for his wounds.

‘We need to get you to a hospital right now,’ you said, taking your jacket off and wrapping it around his waist as a temporary compression bandage.

‘No, no hospital,’ Eddie replied. ‘I’m still wanted for murder, remember?’

‘Eddie, we have to. You’re bleeding,’ you pleaded.

‘I’m fine. We just have to go some place safe and get some bandages. I’m fine, I promise.’

Although he didn’t look fine; he looked as though he could collapse at any moment; you had to agree it wasn’t safe for him to go to the hospital.

‘Okay, fine, let’s go to my place. My mom has a bunch of medical shit. I’ll see what I can do.’

You wrapped your arm under Eddie’s once more and you and Dustin led him out to the truck. You laid him down in the back then began driving, finally letting your muscles relax.

‘You sure you don’t need a hospital, Henderson,’ you piped up after a few blissful minutes of silence. ‘That leg looks pretty bad and at least no one’s after you. I could drop you off.’

‘Hell no. You think I’m leaving you after that?’ Dustin exclaimed. ‘I thought you were both dead. No way, I’m staying right here. Besides, I don’t think anything’s broken.’

You smiled at Dustin’s words. Never did you think you’d care so much for a literal kid, but here you were putting your life on the line for him.

The rest of the journey was silent, aside from the occasional whine from Eddie when you drove over a bump in the road. Eventually, you made it to your house. Your parents were out for the night so you had no need to sneak in. You would’ve taken Eddie to your bed but it was upstairs and you knew there was no way he was making it up there. So, you settled for the couch.

‘Dustin, keep your leg still, okay? Eddie, I’m gonna get you cleaned up.’

You darted to your mother’s medical cupboard and grabbed compression bandages and antiseptic cream. Then, you got a basin of water and a cloth from your bathroom.

When you returned the scene in front of you made your heart melt. Eddie was lying on the couch, one leg hanging over the edge while Dustin sat on the floor, leaning his head on Eddie’s dangling leg, both of them had their eyes closed.

‘Eddie,’ you whispered close to his ear. His dark eyes fluttered open; a glint of pain still remained in his dilated pupils. ‘I need you to sit up for me.’

Eddie obeyed and pulled himself up, leaning on you for support. You cleaned his wounds gently and surveyed his body. Most of the cuts were painful but not overly deep, except for the large gash on the left of his torso.

‘This is going to hurt,’ you said, preparing to apply the antiseptic cream to the still bleeding wound.

‘Ah, Jesus,’ Eddie winced as the cold cream stung his skin. ‘I thought this was supposed to make me better.’

‘It will, dummy. Just give it time.’

Lastly, you fastened the compression bandage around his torso. It was a lot more efficient than the one you made from your jacket which was now sodden in blood. It wasn’t perfect and you would’ve loved to have taken him to a hospital, however, considering the circumstances, you did the best you could do.

You hadn’t realised how completely exhausted you were until you finished patching Eddie up. You couldn’t even find the strength to clean your own wounds. All you could do was throw yourself on the couch next to your boyfriend.

‘Here, let me,’ Eddie said, reaching for the cloth soaked with water. He took your chin between his finger and thumb and softly cleaned the crusted blood from your cheek.

‘I still can’t believe you did that,’ Eddie mumbled, staring deeply into your eyes.

‘Well, I wasn’t just going to-,’ you began but Eddie cut you off.

‘I mean, I was supposed to be the hero and you totally stole my thunder,’ he chuckled, wincing once more at the pain.

‘Oh, you thought I was just gonna be your sidekick, huh? And anyway, I think you had your hero moment when you played guitar on top of your trailer in the middle of the Upside Down with a swarm of demobats headed straight for you,’ you laughed.

‘Yeah, well, at least I didn’t run away this time.’

You leaned forward and kissed Eddie gently, making sure you didn’t hurt him. The moment his lips met yours you felt relief. You felt like everything might actually be okay.

Eddie pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours.

‘I love you,’ he whispered.

‘I love you too. Just don’t ever think I’ll allow you to risk your life without me again.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

There was a sudden rustling below you as a half-asleep Dustin turned to face you both.

‘Ugh, please get a room.’

All at once everything felt normal again. Just sitting here, staring into Eddie’s eyes, Dustin at your feet, snoring softly. This was all that mattered. For a moment you forgot about Vecna. You forgot about the Upside Down and the Mind Flayer and the demogorgons. You felt safe.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #oneshot #fluff #fluff oneshot #eddie munson fluff #hurt/comfort #fix it fic #stranger things #st season 4 #stranger things volume 2 #dustin henderson

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