I just saw a post of @auratux on Dottore's segments... and yea I had to write this drabble(?)
idk what kind of warnings I should put here, so help me out I guess! maybe sexual tension?
assistant reader x dottore segments
The kitchen smelled warm. Melted cheese, baked dough, oregano.
You leaned against the counter while the youngest segment stood on a chair beside the oven, watching through the glass with narrowed eyes like he was conducting a scientific experiment instead of baking pizza.
“Do you think it’s cooked yet?” you asked.
The 8 year-old huffed softly, then crouched down closer to the oven door. His little brows furrowed in concentration. After a moment he nodded once, serious as ever.
“I think it did,” he said quietly. “Smells delicious.”
Your smile came before you could stop it.
“Well then, Doctor,” you teased gently, “let’s eat.”
You slipped on the oven mitts and pulled the pizza out carefully while he watched with obvious satisfaction. Together, you cut it into uneven slices and carried everything to the table.
Just you and him sitting there, finally ready to enjoy your hard-earned pizza.
“You started it, which means you asked for it.”
The familiar voices grew louder down the hall.
The 18 year-old and the 25 year-old entered mid argument, both looking equally irritated. Neither even noticed the pizza at first.
“You are unbelievably insufferable,” 25 snapped.
“And you’re old and bitter,” 18 shot back immediately.
Then they both stopped. Their eyes landed on the table.
And of course on the youngest segment sitting proudly across you with flour still dusted across his sleeves.
“So this is what the two of you spent the afternoon doing?” His eyes dragged over the pizza critically. “How adorable. I leave for a few hours and suddenly the lab turns into a daycare cooking class.”
The youngest frowned immediately.
Before you could say anything, 18 leaned against the doorway with a grin.
“At least they can create something useful,” he said lazily. “Which is not something I can say for you.”
25 shot him a glare sharp enough to kill.
18 only smirked wider before dropping into the chair beside you like he absolutely belonged there.
25 clicked his tongue in annoyance and turned like he was about to leave.
“Maybe taste some before judging it,” you said casually while reaching for another slice. “I made it. Wouldn’t you like something I made?”
That stopped him, which was something predictable.
His expression twisted like he wanted to refuse on principle alone, but after a long moment he sighed dramatically and sat down on your other side.
“You’re insufferable too,” he muttered.
The youngest looked deeply offended by all of you.
For a while, things settled surprisingly peacefully.
The four of you ate while small conversations drifted around the table. Research updates. Complaints. Petty arguments. Bickerings, as usual.
18 was currently ranting with full enthusiasm.
“I’m serious, Omega keeps stealing you,” he grumbled around a bite of pizza. “Every time I finally find you, suddenly he needs ‘assistance.’ And you just go with him.”
You took another bite calmly.
“Well,” you said with a shrug, “I enjoy obeying him. He’s kind of crazy hot, you know?”
The youngest immediately looked disgusted.
He stared at his pizza like he regretted existing in this conversation at all.
“You say things like that on purpose,” he accused, ears turning red.
Then your eyes caught the bit of oil at the corner of his mouth.
Without thinking much of it, you reached over with your thumb and wiped it away. He froze instantly beneath your touch.
And when you licked the oil from your thumb-
His entire face turned scarlet.
“Oh, come on,” you teased. “I thought we passed that stage already. But you really are just a teenage boy full of hormones, huh?”
25 leaned back in his chair, openly amused now.
The youngest looked like he wanted to disappear permanently.
Then he pointed suddenly.
“You have oil on your mouth too, Y/N”
“Oh?” You blinked. “Can you pass me a tissue?”
“If you want it so badly,” he drawled, “Get it yourself. Maybe if you lean far enough I’ll finally get to see what you’re hiding under that skirt.”
You stared at him, you couldn't decide whether to admire or despise this randomly appearing frankness, because that kind of thing wasn't his style.
“You do realize your 8 year-old self is sitting right here?”
The youngest groaned in pure disappointment.
Muttering under your breath, you leaned over him to grab the tissues anyway. You could practically feel both older segments watching you shamelessly.
And then the sharp tap of a walking stick echoed down the hall.
The oldest segment entered the room wearing his usual expression of permanent irritation. His gaze swept across the table slowly before landing on the pizza.
His face somehow looked even more judgmental.
“You people waste astonishing amounts of time,” he said gruffly. “Sitting around stuffing yourselves with grease while actual work remains unfinished.”
You held up a slice toward him.
“You’re criticizing it before trying it too?”
“I don’t need to taste burnt bread to know it lacks sophistication.”
Then you added sweetly, “Wouldn’t you like something I made?”
25 snorted quietly because now someone else was falling into this trap, and for him, it was very entertaining to see what had been done to him being done to someone else.
The old man looked deeply unimpressed.
But after several long seconds, he finally took the slice from your hand with a dissatisfied grunt.
And despite all his complaints he finished the entire thing.
By the time dinner ended, a voice echoed sharply from deeper within the lab.
“Assistant.” This was 35 years old.
You immediately sat up straighter.
“Come to my office. Immediatley.”
Your smile turned almost automatic.
18 groaned loudly while you stood from the table.
“You’re proving my point.”
And you chose to ignore him completely.
After brushing your teeth quickly, you returned to the dining room to fix your makeup using the reflection in a darkened glass cabinet. The exaggerated noises you made while reapplying your lip gloss earned increasingly irritated looks from all three segments.
Which only encouraged you further.
Finally satisfied, you turned back toward the table.
You leaned down and kissed his cheek gently. He frowned immediately afterward, pretending he disliked it even while leaning subtly into your hand.
He was sitting there with his arms crossed and the most dramatic sulking expression imaginable.
You slipped your fingers into his hair, pulling his head back enough to make him stare up at you before leaning down and kissing him properly.
When you pulled away, his face was burning red all over again.
25 looked unbearably smug watching it happen.
So naturally you climbed into his lap next.
“You’re annoying,” he murmured, though his hands settled on your waist immediately.
“And you like me anyway.”
You kissed him quickly before he could turn it into something longer by biting at your lip with a grin.
Then you stepped over toward the oldest segment.
His expression barely changed as you bent down and pressed a gentle kiss against his temple.
His hand rested briefly against your wrist before you pulled away.
You smiled at all of them afterward.
“Bye bye, guys,” you sang lightly while backing toward the door. “Don’t miss me too much.”
“You’re unbearable,” 85 called after you.
“Don't come back alive,” 25 years old muttered.
18 looked personally betrayed already.
And the youngest just reached for another slice of pizza with the exhausted expression of someone far too young to be dealing with any of this.
The lab door slid shut behind you moments later.
And somewhere deeper inside the halls 35 was waiting for you.
