#Pandemonium summary

[toadeyes-miqote]

Umm Zero... He's my mentor.

( Hylnyan be hanging with him for a day or two. After Pandemonium she deserves this. The only change was the lack of Estinien in this scene. She even bought a new outfit though not for this reason. The rains have ceased but now The Emissary pops in roulette and it do be cloudy here.)

“Umm Zero…. He’s my mentor. Wisdom does not always come from reading dusty old tomes. Think what you will of him but his eyes see much.” The Miqo’te strode forward arms wide as she embraced the pale hair Hyur.

It was good to see her in high spirits after how they had to threaten to bundle her back to Ishgard to convalesce under the watchful eyes of Lord Edmont and Aymeric.

Moving a little way from the others, he could sense she had much to say by the ferocity of the thumping her tail gave him. He doubts her concerns were about Zenos’ former weapon. He gave her a warm smile to signal that he was ready. “Should your Sharlayan ears and eyes contact you before this. They might have drawn your attention to a recent report about an incident in the Aitlascope. Whether you rather read their report or the one I filed with Tataru or hear it from my own mouth is up to you.” She patted his hands lightly.

“For you to harbour such concerns. I would be a fool not to hear it.” “The resolved incident involves The-- Elidibus and souls of the dead Ancients. I had to take a trip back to Elpis past and aid them in containing their creatures’ outbreak.” She was looking for the right words to use. And being careful about it. Thancred suspected why

“Go on.” “I met Lahabrea.” “…” “Lahabrea of the past. Like Elidibus and Emet. I saw the path they would end up taking.” “…” “But my main concern is if you had came into contact with an auracite know as The Heart of Sabik?” He rummage through his thoughts, he’s aware that she knows he does not speak much about his time under Lahabrea’s control. For her to bring it up like this. “My memories of the time are somewhat jumbled and hazy. There were days I could not account for.” He doubt he could get the answers she needs by his own ability to remember.

“One of the researchers of the Aitlascope had had memories of an Ancient, the one who put out the distress call awaken in him. Should he asks to meet you and you wish for me to accompany you. Let me know. The Heart of Sabik is in the hands of a shard of Lahabrea’s son.”

“… I understand your concerns and will keep your words in mind. Who else have you spoken to about this?” “Only G’raha and technically Fourchenault.” “I should hear you out.” He squeezed her hand in assurance as they headed for a spot to rest. No sense rushing when her mind isn’t at ease. By now he knew better than to brush aside her concerns.

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

Extra

"I see island life had been treating you well." "I been behaving yes. I have a package for you." She passed him a box of biscuits, it had a couple of letters tied to it. The neat little handwriting was greatly familiar to him. "My thanks." "My house in Shirogane is ready to receive you as the guest of honor, unless you prefer visiting the island or my apartment. My mate will prepare a feast for you." "That will be something to look forward to indeed.... Your m.... Your mate?! He has return??!!" How did you find him?!!" ".... I didn't, Meteion dumped him at my feet and would only say that Bahamut had been uncoiled and there were great wishes of happiness for me. Certain parties agree that retrieving him was payment enough." "That is good news. I look forward to visiting then. "

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TL;:DR - The lady ain't good with words, she works more by instincts due to her hunter upbringing. There are only a few people who are able to piece together her lack of words. so far Thancred is the main person who could, the other ones would be Yugiri and Lucia, amusingly the aides are good reading this.

Wefies now at own page

"

Might upgrade to daylight version. but its seems cloudy all the time.

Might shift this part back to Pandemonium later

Yes there was a line of thought that occurred, if Heart of Sabik was already influencing the desire of Lahabrea for a long time after the conclusion of Pandemonium.

Are Thancred (during Lahacred), Gaius and Nero affected by it?

Thancred if he either comes into contact with it during Lahacred. The need to do good and be better? Or that he kept thinking he not good enough? Post ARR behaviour? Washed off riding in the Flow? Or into Heavensward-Stormblood as well? Wash off during the trip to The First? HW Thancred was this?

Gaius if he's near enough during the installation of the Heart Was that what ignited his Shadow hunting?

Same with Nero Does it increase his obsession with Cid O_O

I would think it worn off for the first two, if Alma (Ivalice raid fuzzy now) be the reference. Nero be interesting though if it did affect him that way.

-----------

I will LOL if Zero's mother turned out to be WoL's 13th shard

[tomriddleslove]

Obliviate.

✩ Mattheo Riddle x Reader angst

Summary: The one where tensions are running higher, and everyone has to pick a side. You promised to stick by one another, but a stupid oath you made when you first met threatens to drive that apart. Alternatively: If you love her, then you have to let her go.

A/N: If you don’t listen to the recommended song when reading this i will fight you 🤺🤺

Song: Goodbye - Billie Eilish

The Daily Prophet

Unrest Brews as Dark Forces Loom

By Rita Skeeter

In a disturbing turn of events, Diagon Alley was rocked by an unprecedented attack last night, sending shockwaves throughout the wizarding community. Witnesses reported seeing a group of hooded figures, suspected to be Death Eaters, descending upon the famous magical thoroughfare with malicious intent.

The Flourish and Blotts bookstore bore the brunt of the assault, with its windows shattered and shelves overturned. Several nearby shops, including Ollivanders Wand Shop and Eeylops Owl Emporium, also sustained significant damage.

"I've never seen anything like it," said Horace Slughorn, a retired Potions Master who happened to be in the area during the attack. "It was pure pandemonium. People were running for cover, spells flying everywhere. It was like a scene out of the darkest days of the last wizarding war."

Ministry of Magic officials were quick to respond to the scene, deploying Aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol to contain the situation. However, the attackers managed to evade capture, leaving behind a trail of destruction and instilling fear in the hearts of many.

The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, condemned the attack in the strongest terms, vowing to apprehend those responsible and bring them to justice.

"We will not tolerate such brazen acts of violence in our society," Minister Shacklebolt declared in a statement issued this morning. "The Ministry is fully committed to ensuring the safety and security of all witches and wizards, and we will spare no effort in our pursuit of these criminals."

The attack on Diagon Alley serves as a grim reminder of the growing threat posed by Voldemort's followers, who have been emboldened in recent months by reports of their dark lord's rumoured return. With tensions running high and fear gripping the wizarding world, many are left wondering what the future holds in this time of uncertainty.

You frown as you observe Mattheo, watching as he tosses the paper down onto the table in front of you with a huff. The tension in his face has become increasingly evident over the past few weeks, and you've begun to forget what Mattheo looks like when he isn't frowning.

You wrap your arms around his arm, leaning in close to him as you speak quietly.

“Hey. It’s alright,” You reassure, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from the fireplace, a small huff of both frustration and amusement escaping his lips as he clenches his jaw, nodding.

“It’s alright.” He scoffs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

It’s alright? No, it wasn’t alright. His father was a murderous lunatic who was about to trigger the second wizarding war. He had to sit back and watch his own friend get tortured for hours for failing to complete a task. He can't close his eyes without seeing Theodore writhing in pain on the floor.

Mattheo was expected to fight with them. The time would come, that was for certain. Mattheo would have to stand there, and raise his wand against the people he's shared a dorm with and sat in class with.

Hell, he would be expected to raise his wand against you.

“They always say this, Mattheo. They’ve been saying it for years, and nothing has happened.” You say, but even you can see how pathetic it sounds. Despite your efforts to comfort him, it's clear that his mind is elsewhere, consumed by the looming threat of war and the impossible choices he may soon be forced to make.

Mattheo finally tears his gaze away from the fireplace, his eyes meeting yours. Your breath hitches, the sheer look of sorrow in his eyes enough to shatter your heart into a million little pieces.

"I don't want to drag you into this," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "You deserve better than to be caught up in my mess."

Your heart sinks as you realize where this conversation is headed. "Mattheo, please," you plead, the fear in your voice palpable, "don't do this. Don't shut me out."

But he shakes his head, his expression pained. "I have to," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Remember our promise?"

Mattheo looks up when he sees you sit next to him, a wide grin on your face as you unpack your bag.

He had seen you here and there in the common room. You always seemed to have an impossibly bright smile, far too lovely for the gloominess of Slytherin.

“Riddle.” You hum with a small grin, and he can't help but let a small smile tug at his lips as he looks over at you.

“What's wrong? You’re looking at me as though I’ve grown another head” You tease as you sit down next to him .

Mattheo blinks in surprise as you address him, the warmth of your smile catching him off guard. He's used to being treated with caution and apprehension, especially given his family's reputation and his own reserved demeanor. But your easy manner and genuine curiosity leave him feeling strangely disarmed.

"Nothing's wrong, just lost in thought, I suppose," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice as he watches you unpack your bag. Despite himself, he can't help but feel a sense of curiosity about you, wondering what it is that draws you to him when so many others keep their distance.

-•-

“Please-” Mattheo pleads in frustration, slamming the door shut behind him as he storms through the empty common room. You follow after him briskly, slamming the door that separates the common room from the dorms closed with a flick of your wand as you corner him.

“What do you mean, please?” You snap, frowning at him.

“Stop-” He says, his movements exasperated as he motions between the two of you “- this! Stop trying to be friends with me! It’s for your own good.” He says, looking up at you.

You let out a dry laugh, a mix of amusement and frustration as you shove him lightly.

“Oh fuck off. So you can kiss me and spend every evening with me but when it suits you we are just friends. You don't get to decide what’s good for me, Mattheo. I choose what I do and who I associate with, and if that hurts me then so fucking be it.” You retort harshly. Mattheo goes to interject but you cut him off.

“No! You don't get to choose when you want to be with me. I want you, Mattheo. All of you. I couldn’t give two flying shits about who your father is, or who you associate with. I'm capable of making my own decisions.”

He remains silent, his expression torn between turmoil and guilt, as your words hang heavy in the air between you. You feel slightly guilty for your outburst and your expression softens, reaching out to hold his hand gently as you speak.

"You know, if you really think it's that dangerous for me to be around you, you could always just obliviate me. Make me forget about you completely."You quip, trying to lighten the mood

For a moment, Mattheo's shock gives way to a burst of laughter, the tension in the room dissipating as he shakes his head in disbelief. "You're impossible," he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

-•-

You pull back from Mattheo, shaking your head. “No. No, that was a joke.” You stammer, but he turns to you.

“It wasn’t. We spoke about it afterwards. You promised me.” Mattheo says, sternly.

You know he’s right. You only agreed because the idea seemed so laughable. But now it was a reality, and you could see the hurt and disappointment in Mattheo's eyes.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to find the right words, the weight of everything crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. "I love you, Mattheo," you say, more of a plea than anything else. He draws you into him, a strong arm wrapping around you tightly, as though he is scared to let you go. His hand cups the back of your head, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder as he kisses the top of your head.

“I know. I love you too. That's why we have to.” He murmurs, trying his hardest to not let his voice break.

-•-

It’s not fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Mattheo had just found it. Found his reason for living. Found his reason to keep going when all the odds were stacked against him. You were the air he breathed, the light that lit his life up and the tender hand that soothed him. You were his everything, and you had to be snatched away from him.

He gently raps on the door to your dorm, just to let you know he was about to enter before cracking the door open. You hastily scramble, shoving the book you were writing with under your pillow as you spot Mattheo.

He notices but he doesn't say a thing, no, he can't. Because in a few minutes, it would be as though he never existed to you. He couldn't tell what would have hurt more, you not being able to see him, or you not even knowing who he was. You’d hold his heart in your hands, unknowingly, and he would be nothing but a stranger.

“Not in here, Please, not in here.” You breathe out, your words hitching in your throat as you fight back tears. He nods wordlessly, taking a step back.

“No one’s in the common room. I’ll uh- go there.” He murmurs, his voice hollow and empty as he turns to leave, unable to bear the thought of facing you for what may be the last time.

As he makes his way down to the common room, every step heavier than the last, he can't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnaws at his insides. It's like a void, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing behind but a hollow shell of the person he used to be.

He finds a seat in the furthermost corner, where you both usually sat, facing the fireplace. He watches the embers crackle and dance, not even noticing your presence till you slide up into the seat next to him. He wants to avert his gaze when he sees the tears in your eyes, but instead, he reaches up.

His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking?

He wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“My wand. Let me go uh-” He blurts , quickly getting up as he looks away. He blinks back tears as he hurries up the stairs. Instead of going up to his dorm, however, he sneaks into yours.

He walks over to your bed, pulling back your pillow. Sure enough, the small book you were so desperate to conceal from Mattheo was there. He looks around and then with a small huff, tucks it into his back pocket. He hurries back downstairs.

Returning to the common room, he sits back down next to you, his hand reaching out to gently intertwine with yours as you sit together in silence. For a while, you don't say anything. You fear that speaking will break this small bubble, where time has frozen and you can just enjoy your last moments together.

As Mattheo gently cups your face, his touch trembling with the weight of what's to come, he feels the soft dampness of your tears against his fingertips. Your eyes, filled with sorrow and pleading, search his for some semblance of reassurance, some sign that this isn't the end.

"I can't do this," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart breaking with every word. "I can't lose you. You mean everything to me. I’m so scared"

Your sobs fill the air around you, the sound like a knife to Mattheo's heart as he struggles to hold back his own tears. He leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender, bittersweet kiss, savouring the taste of your lips one last time before it's all gone.

“I love you.” Is all you can muster. It’s pathetic, but it hurts to even think about anything.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair as though trying to anchor yourself to the present. Mattheo feels a lump form in his throat, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, but he knows that he has to do this. For your own safety, for your own sake, he has to let you go.

His forehead presses against yours, taking in every last moment of intimacy he’s granted. You don't open your eyes, and he's grateful, for he doesn't think he could bear to look you in the eye.

“Obliviate.”

The second after he murmurs the words he stumbles away from you, reeling backwards as though your touch has burnt him. You wouldn't remember a thing about him, not even his name. He couldn’t be close to you anymore.

Mattheo watches as you blink, confusion clouding your features as you try to make sense of your surroundings. You look around the room, your eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with a sense of bewilderment, and for a moment, Mattheo's heart clenches with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll remember him. But deep down, he knows that it's futile, that the spell has already taken effect, erasing every trace of him from your mind.

You shake your head slightly, as if trying to clear the fog from your thoughts, before turning and heading up to your bed. Mattheo watches you go, his heart breaking with every step you take away from him, knowing that he can never follow.

But then, just as you reach the top of the stairs, you pause, your gaze flickering back to where Mattheo stands in the corner of the room. And in that moment, you give him a small, absentminded smile, the kind of smile you might give to a passing stranger.

Mattheo's heart lurches in his chest at the sight of your smile. He wants to call out to you, to tell you who he is, to beg you to remember him, but he knows that it's pointless. You're gone, lost to him forever, and there's nothing he can do to change that.

As you disappear, he collapses down onto the sofa, He wants to sob, and for a second he thinks he is, a horrible restictive choking feeling in his throat as he looks down at the floor. He reaches into his pocket, fingers fumbling with the small black book, perhaps the last piece of you he’d truly have.

He finds the most recent entry and wipes away the tears that blur his vision as he begins to read.

Don't be alarmed when you see this. I want you to read every word of this carefully. This is you, that is writing. It is the 26th of June, 1996. You might have felt like you’ve woken up in the common room, feeling a bit disoriented.

You were obliviated. And it was your idea.

When you were that annoying, pestering little kid, you had taken it upon yourself to befriend a boy called Mattheo Riddle. You’ll see him over the next few days, perhaps. He might look at you as though it hurts him to. It most definitely does. He’s devastatingly handsome, with the softest brown curls and the most expressive eyes. I do believe you won't need me to describe him. Really, my love for him is so strong I doubt any sort of obliviate can erase the idea that Mattheo Riddle lives within the recesses of your heart. Everyone had warned you of how dangerous he was, how his father was rumoured to be the Dark Lord and that he was bound to be no good. But you, in your true Slytherin ambition, set out on a mission to befriend him.

And you fell in love. It was impossible not to, really.

He is everything to me. He was everything to you. He is the most brilliant boy I’ve known. Far too many people gave up on him early. He’s beyond just being incredibly intelligent. He feels. And that’s rarer than you might believe. For someone who was subjected to such horrible things growing up, he is tender. Do not let his bruised knuckles and split lips fool you.

Now, more than ever, he will struggle. He believes you are fully not aware of him. But with this, I hope you are.

Be there for him. Do not tell him about this. You were awfully good at forcing your way into people's lives. Do that for him now. Make him think it was a coincidence. Be there for him, and don’t let his stubbornness fool you. Merlin knows he will be stubborn. He is simply scared, and you mustn’t let that deter you.

People will often compare their lovers to the sun. Bright, warm, near perfect. Mattheo is the moon, casting a gentle glow in the darkness, guiding you through the night. He may not shine as brightly as the sun, but his presence is no less mesmerizing, no less essential.

You had always preferred the moon more, anyway.

Take care of him.

You stupid girl. You stupid, selfish girl.

Mattheo's hands tremble as he reads the letter, his heart constricting with every word, every line. It's like a knife to his heart, the pain of knowing that even in a situation like this, you still found a way to look after him, to care for him, to love him.

Tears blur his vision as he reads on, each word cutting deeper than the last. The book, filled with pages of recollections of the time they spent together, feels like a cruel reminder of everything he's lost, everything he can never get back.You had nearly filled the whole book, addressed to yourself with worries and letters in the hopes of getting your obliviated mind to fall back in love with Mattheo. To remember him, and to negate the whole idea of obliviating yourself by leaving this book for your future self.

And you did all of this just because you wanted to look after him.

It hurts to breathe, to even entertain the idea of going to bed tonight knowing that the love of his life sees him as nothing but a stranger. And in his hands, he holds the thing that could do the impossible, that could somehow reverse it all.

The very selfish part of him wants you to see the book. He wants to slip upstairs, and hide it back under your pillow, and let you find the words you addressed to yourself.

But he couldn’t. He could die far more happily knowing he’s not leaving you behind, no. Really, you were never his, the two of you forcing destiny in the opposite direction, living on borrowed time. Now he has to face the consequences of it all, and if he can stop you bearing the brunt of it, then he’s made no mistake.

He places the book down on the table, and doesn’t think twice about his actions.

“Incendio.”

[tonyspank]

"CHEF'S HERE..."

Summary: "Chefs here..." a voice murmurs as you burst through the kitchen doors

Warnings: nothing really, chef y/n is giving gordon ramsay a bit

Words: 800+

A/N: hi everyone! been a while eh

"Chefs here..." a voice murmurs as you burst through the kitchen doors.

You cast a quick peek around. A dozen cooks and servers are preparing for the evening rush, and the air is humid and damp from the hot burners.

"Where's Evan?" You inquire, scouring the room for a sight of his familiar face among the pandemonium. The other cooks trade looks, displaying a mix of perplexity and fear.

Ava gestures at Evan, who is frozen in his trackers, as if he has just seen a ghost. His eyes widen, and he stares at you with his mouth open. You can watch the color drain from Evan's face as he cautiously approaches you, stuttering over his words.

Everyone in the room goes silent as they watch this unexpected meeting occur.

You rush over to him and take him by the elbow, forcing him to look at his plate, which had been returned due to the lobster being undercooked.

"What is this?" you question, pointing at the lobster. Evan moves his focus from you to the plate, his face shifting from panic to perplexity.

Everyone in the room is waiting for an explanation while he stammers, attempting to find the appropriate words to explain the situation.

"Uhhhh," Evan says, searching the kitchen for help.

"It's lobster, idiot," you snarl. "How long have you been here?" "Why do I have to deal with your messes all the time?"

Evan's face flushes with shame. "I... uh..."

"Don't say anything!" You cut him off with a snap.

He looks at you, perplexed.

"I break my fucking foot working my ass off in this restaurant, and the one day I need you to be on your A-game, of course you disappoint." Evan averts his gaze, his shoulders hunching.

Holding the lobster tail in front of his face, you seize it. "Apologize."

Evan's lips move in and out of uncertainty over how to reply. You snarl, "I said, apologize."

He glances at the lobster for a moment, then back at you, his expression bewildered.

"I'm... sorry?"

You turn to face the rest of the kitchen and aggressively toss the lobster in the garbage. "Someone, get me a fucking apron... now!"

You swiftly tie an apron around your waist after a server approaches you with one. Realizing that the other employees have seen your outburst, you observe them exchanging anxious glances as you make ready to return to work.

Taking a deep breath, you attempt to gather yourself and concentrate on the task at hand.

"Alright, everyone, listen up! It's time to turn this day around!" You say this, clapping your hands together.

The kitchen is silent, and the staff stands still, looking between you and Evan.

"Now," you point at the food on the stove, "someone give me a lobster; I'll prepare it myself."

No one moves.

"Well?" You demand, "We don't have all night! The dining room is packed, and we have tables that are waiting!"

At this point, the staff jumps into action, and the kitchen comes alive.

"Yes, Chef," someone mutters and hands you a plate with a lobster tail.

Within a couple of minutes, you're walking back out of the kitchen, your hair tied up and an apron wrapped around your waist, walking in the direction of the table that had originally ordered the lobster.

"Hi there, I'm so sorry about the delay. Can I offer you something on the house to compensate?" You ask, approaching the table, smiling apologetically, trying to mask the anger that is still coursing through you.

The brunette finally looks up, meeting your gaze. You immediately recognize those brown eyes.

"Y/N?" She asks, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey, Jenna." You say, letting out a small laugh. "What— what are you doing here? I thought you were in New York."

"Well, I wanted to surprise you." She laughs, shaking her head. "And what about you? I thought I told you to rest your foot."

You run a hand through your hair and mutter, "Baise-moi... (Fuck me...) Uh... it's a long story,"

With a lighthearted smile pulling at the corner of her lips, Jenna raises an eyebrow. Oh, gosh. She leans in closer and adds, "Well, I have all the time in the world to hear it."

You give your girlfriend a sidelong glance while sulking. "It's not that serious, baby. The boot helps a lot."

She sighs slightly and rolls her eyes. "You should be at home, resting."

"I'm fine." You sigh and cross your arms.

Jenna tilts her head, purses her lips, and raises her eyebrows.

"I swear, baby."

"Well, as much as I like the fact that you're here, I don't like the idea of you hurting yourself. Especially after how hard you worked."

You grin and nod slightly. "In any case, try the lobster. "Made by yours truly."

"Of course. Thank you, darling."

You nod and walk back to the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Jenna digging into the food you cooked.

"How'd it go?" Evan asks.

"It's my girlfriend," you tell him, untying the apron and setting it aside.

"What? The blonde one?"

"No, not the blonde one."

"The brunette one? Jenna Ortega?!"

You roll your eyes, grab your jacket and slip it on.

"Yeah, Evan, the brunette one," you say, pushing open the doors and making your way towards the exit.

"Oh."

[livlaughloveluke]

Reader getting neglected by her mom Hera bc she was a mistake? And Luke convincing her to join him and in the end she does- or she doesn't bc she is still loyal to Hera and Luke leaves her because of itt

𝗚𝗢𝗗𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗦 - 𝗟.𝗖 🫧

luke castellan x daughter of hera! reader 🦚

summary- basically just the request

warnings- use of y/n, few curse words, female reader, spoilers for tlt, heart wrenching angst

[a/n]- a lot of lines inspired by the last episode of the good place (literally my favorite show) and a line from the song “anything” used

2.3k

You were a mistake. 

There was no alternative way to phrase it, at least not in the eyes of your godly mother, Hera. You were conceived in a fit of jealousy; your mom wanted to get petty revenge on Zeus for some clueless error he made. And so, within the blink of an eye, she transformed into a mere mortal and seduced a random man, otherwise known as your father.

When you stumbled into camp, bruised and bloody from a Cyclops attack, not a soul expected you to be the malicious goddess's daughter. Hera was loyal to her husband, even claiming multiple times that she forebode affairs, only allowing Zeus to commit the unfaithful acts. However, while she may have been the goddess of marriage, her extreme jealousy overpowered them all.

Which is why she detested you. You were a symbol of her errors, a constant reminder of her regretful affair. 

You had a total of two interactions with her, the first one being her claiming of you and the second one being a spiel about how she resented and wanted absolutely nothing to do with a ‘disgrace.’ 

She was the reason you were so alone your whole life. There were no siblings to talk with, no mom to spend time with, and no father who could actively be present. In fact, the cabin hadn’t even been furnished when you arrived; no one thought your mother would commit infidelity. 

With no bed to sleep in, at least until the one Mr. D ordered online arrived, you stayed in the Hermes cabin, a place welcoming to all. You were fourteen when you met Luke Castellan, who had already been claimed by his father and who generously made you feel included. He stayed up with you on those late nights, helping to calm you while you vented about your neglectful mother, and he saved you a spot at the picnic tables when no one else would. 

From that point on, you and Luke had formed an incredible relationship. Even after you moved back into Cabin 2, you remained close friends. Seeing that you were the only daughter of Hera, you joined Cabin 11 for the daily activities, which only amplified your connection with the boy. Eventually, with the help of your friends, Chris and Clarisse, Luke worked up the courage to ask you out. You happily obliged, and ever since then, you have been dating. 

Four years later, your bond with the boy was admired by nearly all. The two of you were a symbol of hope—that even in the pandemonium of demigod life, you could find love. As you grew into young adulthood, you became a profound woman, one with elegance and kindness, despite the hauntings of your past. 

With Luke by your side, you began to love the simple joys life provided. You cared for the campers like your own kin, in hopes of providing the external fondness you were never granted as a child. 

You and Annabeth became as close as ever, bonding over the experiences Camp Half-Blood provided. Her flawless skills in battle proved she didn’t need any protection, and yet you were always there to guard her from the dangers life presented. While Annabeth was reticent to most, after many weeks of being friends, she opened up to you.

You had that welcoming effect on nearly everyone, helping arrivals settle into their chaotic lifestyle. Which is how you ended up being chosen to complete a treacherous quest along with the new camper Percy, the satyr Grover, and your honorary little sister, Annabeth. 

After packing the evening before departure, you headed to say goodbye to Luke. You both knew that the trip would be dangerous, with a chance you wouldn’t return, so you decided to relish in each other’s presence by the lake, just in case.

He sat on the dock while you lay in his lap, gently stroking your scalp as you watched the sun set and paint bright colors atop the sky. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” You spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“It’s only ten days. I went fourteen years without you; I can manage a week.” He said, smiling softly while looking down at you. 

“Yeah. Ten days is nothing. I’d wait a hundred years for you.” You agreed, mirroring his expression. While you chatted, the colorful sky eventually faded into a deep blue, signaling that your time by the lake was coming to an end.

“Cmon, everyone’s asleep by now.“ He alerted you, standing up and offering you a hand. You accepted, interlocking your fingers and walking back to the cabins.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You pondered as you strolled to Hera’s cabin. Sure, it was against the rules, but you just wanted to spend the last night with him. And what’s the worst you could do while surrounded by twenty other children?

“Course. The campers owe me a favor since I took them to the lake last Friday, so they won’t snitch.” Luke replied, changing course to the Hermes cabin. 

Sleep came easy that night as you laid on Luke’s chest while his hands rested on your waist. Leaving the next morning was hard, but with the words from last night still present in your mind, you left with a smile. 

The mission was nearly impossible, with monsters chasing you around every corner. After traveling to (literally) hell and back, you finally arrived back at camp.

Campers lined up cheering; a whole festival was planned for the victory brought by Percy. While most would miss the warm, safe beds in the cabins or the hot showers, you only craved one thing: your boyfriend. One short Iris message during your trip wasn’t enough. You wanted to listen to him blink, to listen to his hands soothe, to listen to his heart beating. 

And so, within minutes of your arrival, you had found yourself embraced in Luke’s arms. All of your worries pertaining to the Lightning Thief faded away as you ran your fingers through his curls, your knees practically buckling at the sight of him. 

“I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, swaying side to side as you hugged him. 

“I missed you too. Camp hasn’t been the same.” 

“I’m here now. We have all the time we need.” 

“There’s too many people around. I found a new spot in the woods if you want to join me, and we can talk about the quest.” He spoke softly, his tone honey-sweet.

“Lead the way, Castellan.”

And so he dragged you deep into the secluded woods, the final location remaining a mystery as you hiked through hundreds of tall trees. The walk was suspiciously long, but with him, time seemed to fade away, and you grew blind to the flaming red flags.

Finally, you reached a clearing, surrounded by luscious greens. You both sat down, leaning your head on his shoulder as you glanced up at the stars. He was silent most of the journey to this unusual destination, just listening to you babble on about everything that happened during your time apart. And his nonverbal attitude didn’t disappear as you sat down, but this time you joined him in the comforting silence while staring up at the stars.

Gazing at him through the moonlight, you watched as his deep brown eyes lit up with a feeling you couldn’t determine. Curious, you queried what roamed his mind. “Whatcha thinking about?” 

“I’m-“ he let out an angry sigh, pausing to gain composure. “I’m tired of the gods treating us like shit and getting away with it.” His indignant behavior staggered you, but Luke was prone to these fits of loathing after speaking to his neglectful father, so you assumed that’s what caused his wrath tonight. 

“I know, and I’m sorry. Rough interaction with your dad again?” You tried to ration, hoping to calm his resentment, but instead it seemed to irritate him more. His jaw clenched with fury as he snapped at you. 

“Why are you apologizing? Don’t defend the gods. They’re ruthless idiots who won’t even spare a glance in your direction.” 

His cruel words made you question everything, praying this was just a dumb prank or something not as serious as he was letting on. Quietly, you asked what he meant. “What are you.. What are you saying?”

After a long pause, he looked away from you and spoke up. “I want you to join me. To join Kronos.”

Your heart sank upon his confession, and you scooted away from him frantically, standing up and trying to brace yourself for whatever he was going to do next. He lifted himself off the ground after you, taking a baby step closer.

“Kronos? You’re joking, right? Luke, please tell me you’re joking.”

You made eye contact with him, realizing that the mysterious tint in his eyes was now readable. It was hatred, pure evil.

“No. I can’t stand to watch them carelessly prance around while their children suffer. I’m standing against them, and I want you to be by my side.”

You grew vexed and infuriated that he was ruining your years-long relationship for some stupid dream. “Are you kidding me? I’m not joining you.” You snarled.

“You’re choosing them? Over me? You’re choosing your mother, who has ignored you your entire life, instead of me. Instead of us?” He growled, approaching you as you trudged backwards. For the first time in your life, you were scared of Luke. Scared of the man you loved.

“I’m choosing my friends at Camp Half-Blood. My family. What about Annabeth? And Percy? Do they know?” Thoughts of Annabeth finding out one of her closest friends was a traitor flooded your brain, hurting you more than Luke’s words ever could.

“No, not yet, at least. Why won’t you stand up for what’s right?”

“You’re starting an unwinnable war here. Tell me, do you really think you could overpower them?” You replied, fuming with anger towards him and the gods, too. And if we’re being honest, you were mad at yourself, too. Mad at yourself for still loving him even though he was hurting you. 

“I will overpower them. With or without you.”

“You're—you're really leaving?” You questioned, and the rage dissipated. 

“I have to.” He demanded, looking down at his feet while clenching his eyes shut. 

A wave of memories washed over you, and suddenly, you didn’t want him to go. You wanted the boy who picked you the freshest of flowers—the boy who came knocking on your bedroom door at night, just wanting to chat.

“Please, Luke. We can forget all about this and go back to living our lives.” You pleaded, your bottom lip quivering as you fought back sobbing. 

“It’s too late now. I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N.”

“Please don’t leave. I was alone my whole life before you, and I told myself I liked it that way, but I don’t. I don’t want to live a life without you. I can’t.” You choked out through mangled sobs, and his demeanor shifted to one of guilt.

“I’m sorry, but it has to be this way. And I can’t let you leave here and spoil my plans before they even start.” 

The air became thick as he finished his sentence, and your tears subsided, freight replacing the sadness that lingered deep in your heart. 

“What does that mean?” You entreated. Was he going to kill you? 

“I love you. Maybe in another universe we can be together.” He said this, fleeting into the shadows. 

“Wait! Luke, you can’t just leave me here!” You yelled, attempting to run after him, but he was nowhere to be found. You stood alone in the darkness of the woods, with no clue as to how to escape the woods. 

Every fragment in your body was telling you to give up, to let go, and to sob. To silence out the cruel world and lay on the earth floor, to wait for your impending death, from the freezing cold temperatures or one of the hungry monsters that lurked in the night. But the thought of Luke getting away with this and letting him escape untouched fueled you. You hiked out of the path you came from, praying you could get back to camp alive.

Eventually, you met the forest ends, stepping foot into a camp that was blissfully unaware of Hermes’ boy’s plan. You shoved through crowds of partying teens, eager to find Annabeth and Percy and warn them.

After searching through every crook, you spotted them talking to Chiron. The look of concealed misery on the young girl’s face told you everything. Luke had already visited. 

You were grateful the two preteens were even alive, but you know how hard this was. They were only kids, not deserving to experience such heartbreak at a mere twelve years old.

Running up to Annabeth, you wrapped her in a comforting, empathy-filled embrace. Her muscles tensed up at first before accepting the hug and leaning in.

“I’m so sorry.” You muttered into her ears as she sighed. Pulling apart to read her emotions, you asked a simple question. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She murmured unconvincingly.

“Promise?” 

“Swear.” Annabeth replied.

“And you promise you’ll come talk to me if you’re not?” You asked again. 

“Promise.”

You smiled for the first time in hours, basking in the warmth of your family. 

“Is he... gone?” You whispered to her, and it didn’t take an Athena kid to understand who you were talking about.

“Yeah. He escaped through a portal.” 

“Oh.” Was all you could reply, trying to shield the way your heart shattered.

“I’m sorry.” Annabeth said, looking into your glossy eyes. 

“It’s okay. I’ll tell you everything later, but I’m just going to go to bed for now.” 

You left, tears pouring down as you lightly jogged to the Hermes cabin. Slipping off your shoes, you plopped down onto Luke’s bed and sobbed.

His cheap cologne mixed with the citrusy shampoo he used lingered in the hot air, and for a moment, it was like he was still with you.

[luke masterlist] ★ [request here] ★ [hera moodboard]

[matchadobo]

KIDD; hockey player kidd x figure skater reader

summary: title says it all

warning/s: none, very fluff, gn reader

* thinking about hockey player kidd who's been exceling since high school as that athlete kid and figure skater name that was also unstoppable in ice.

* kidd is an absolute monster at the rink, as aggressive as hockey players are; kidd was perfectly suited to this. the team's ace and is totally the most jackass member; nobody can say shit about it because he carries the team. he's a good team captain but not a good senpai, he'd enjoy making the rookies suffer and would entirely destroy them at initiation, he says it'll only make them stronger

* just imagine kidd in a jersey 😩 that big angry man who's as pale as snow with his fiery red hair standing out in the rink. would probably have 1 as the jersey no. cuz he boastful like that. and oooooh when he raises his jersey to wipe off cold sweat during practice and that sculpted fucking body just oooooh

* you know i fight fire with fire so figure skater name who has the same amount of feist, skill, and stature in the field minus the arrogance

* so when you and him met, imagine the absolute pandemonium. it'll happen on one winter olympics where the only thing you two agree about is how each other ticks you off. you two'll meet at the bleachers by the rink because you both plan on using it at that time

* "got here first." he'll say, tone assertive as he fixes up his shoes. "and?" you'd reply walking closer to him with both hands on your jacket pockets. "i, will be using the rink. and you, should go." he wouldn't budge, would instead stand up and try intimidate you. "nah," you'd clicked your tongue, taking off your jacket. "don't wanna. you don't even own the place." you left your stuff by the bleachers to enter the rink and left him fuming

* he'd then watch you on your competitions to get to know the jackass who messed with him.

* "since when were you interested in figure skating?" killer would ask and he'd receive a glare from the other. "was just checkin' if the rink is big enough." then he'd leave 🤣 killer will look at the screen and immediately knew why kidd was acting like that

* since then, you two will somehow bump into each other a whole lot. and each time you two see each other, kidd would either avoid you or scowl at you. that's why your impression of him was really, really bad. you thought of him as a local athlete asshole.

* so when his match finally came and you were there to watch him, you saw how much of a different person he was. he was his team's ace and captain. how he carries himself in the ice was reason enough why he was the captain. you studied him thoroughly: no matter the vulgar shit that comes out of his mouth with all the curses and insults, he radiated an attractive kind of leadership. his kouhais and mates listened to him and once the game plays out, next thing you know they're winning. his kouhais looked at him with much admiration, and it looks like you are too.

* when the game finished and you went outside to get some food and to your surprise, he was buying the same burgers you were eyeing.

* "i swear, you're following me aren't you?" kidd barked, clicking his tongue. "i'll have you know that i'm a regular here. if anything, you're the one following me." you rolled your eyes, fishing out money from your wallet. "tch, i better fuckin' leave then." he started walking away as you waited for your food. "h-hey wait," you called out, contemplating if you should continue. "congrats on winning, you were pretty cool back there."

* he'd scowl again, start to blush profusely as red as his hair, and leave 😭 you'd be kinda hurt but what else can you do about it? he started avoiding you since then

* little did you know he'd be watching you at your next match at the farthest top of the bleachers just so no one would know. kil would 🤪

* kidd would be so in love with how you move, would go crazy about the fact that you two shared a rink to victory. he never appreciated artsy and dramatic shit and that's exactly what youwere doing, but you might've just change that. as someone who would only be interested in aggressive cool shit, this was a first for him. he'd watch you earnestly: how your expressions change, the shape of you, or how your body twists and dances gracefully on ice. he wouldn't be able to sleep that night especially on what you told him after his match.

* so he visited the rink once more to clear his head and figured he might see you there again, in a very unlikely chance he did see you. he figured you seem to be practicing for finals. "it's midnight." he'd greet you, his deep voice echoing in the hall. "yeah. and you're here." you stopped, skating towards the bleachers. "gotta practice for finals too?" you added. "nope, don't need to." arrogance once more, it pissed you off but now you're amused. "of course you don't," you smiled. "then what're you doing here? you must be tired from today, right?"

* he'd take a while to answer, as if thinking if he should honestly answer. kidd would always speak his mind, he was blunt and that's what he was known for. so right now, as the glass of the rink was separating the both of you in the cold ambience of midnight, he was too lost in you to think properly. he'd just brush you off and say, "'s none of your damn business. i can't sleep, maybe the ice'd fuckin' help." he dismissed, crossing his arms and looking the other way.

* so an idea popped in your head, "if you wanna take your mind off of something, maybe skating would help. go put on some skates." you skated away, continuing on your practice. not thinking about if he'd ignore you or agree. he gave no response but left, it saddened you a little

* only that he returned and is now skating with you with a mild blush on his cheeks, he said it's due to the cold and a pale ass like him becomes red as hell in those times 🥺😞. playful insults turn into snippets of your backstories then into little things about each other as you both glide across the ice. he can speak normally without insults after all.

* you two didn't mind the time at all, nor the press camping out the venue catching some pictures of your little adventures with the scotland's hockey team captain as you two snag foods from 24hour food places within the vicinity. nor does kidd give a fuck about the articles that resurfaced the next day about the rumored relationship with you

* "so you two hit it off, huh?" your coach asked you and his teammates interrogated him. you two just dismissed them with flushed red cheeks.

* after the olympics, you two didn't even try to hide the fact that you are going on dates.

[whisperofsong]

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: Bob takes care of you after a long day.

Word Count: Approx. 3,082 words

Warnings: Language and explicit sexual content

Note: This piece was written for @attapullman ‘s International Bob Floyd Fucks Month celebration and intentionally posted on Lewis Pullman’s birthday. I adore our collective boyfriend and loved writing this to honor one of my favorite characters of his💛

____________________________________________

The rain patters against your windshield as the windshield wipers rhythmically glide back and forth, almost putting you in a trance. Your shoulders are slumped as you stare ahead and count the minutes until your car is once again in the driveway.

Work had been more stressful than usual. The incessant alerts signaling the arrival of new emails flooding your inbox. Additional things being asked of you despite your already taxing workload. Interruptions from your coworkers as you attempted to focus on completing the various tasks on your to-do list. Despite these challenges, you managed to accomplish a few things, but it wasn’t enough. And you feared that the week may only get worse.

When your tires meet the smooth pavement of your driveway and you pull the key out of the ignition, you remain in the car. The stillness and silence is a welcome respite from the pandemonium in the office. Your energy is almost nonexistent and you find yourself wincing when you look at the distance from your car to the front door. You eventually muster enough energy to grab your things and head inside.

Faint music and a pleasant aroma greet you and the man responsible for them is Bob Floyd. But Bob Floyd isn’t just any man. He’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend of a little over a year to be exact.

“Boyfriend” is almost an inadequate label for what Bob Floyd is to you. He’s the man who memorized your coffee order just so he can get it for you every Saturday morning. He indulges in your favorite TV shows alongside you and makes remarks that he’s confident will make you laugh. When you inevitably fall asleep in the middle of watching them, he doesn’t disturb you, but instead covers you in the coziest blanket you own because he knows you sleep more soundly on the couch. He’s the man who embraces you at the end of each day and whispers the most tender words while kissing you between each sentiment.

But as you stand in the tiny entryway of your home, your heart deflates because not even Bob’s presence can buoy you right now. Your chest is tight, your shoulders are throbbing, and your whole body feels heavy. When you enter the kitchen, Bob’s back faces you as he busies himself with stirring something on the stove while the comforting melody of “Silly Love Songs” surrounds you.

“Hey,” you say softly. Even your voice is strained.

He immediately turns around to face you, his eyes twinkling. “Hey, honey. I didn’t even hear you come in,” he says as he happily makes his way toward you. His strong arms engulf you and you sink into his warmth, his scent calming you in ways you can’t even describe. It’s one of his specialties. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, wishing you could permanently reside there.

“Hey.” He slightly pulls away while putting his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to get you to look at him. “Talk to me, honey.”

You slowly lift your head, reluctant to meet his gaze. There’s no use lying to him. He can read you well and therefore detect anything that seems amiss. “I had a bad day.” Your eyes travel downward, refusing to maintain eye contact. You’d prefer not to make this a big deal. Ideally, you’d prefer to curl up in bed, hibernate under the covers, and drift into a deep slumber where work can’t get to you.

Concern decorates Bob’s features as he furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head, preparing to prompt you further.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

You release a long and labored sigh. “Eventually. But right now…I just…” You shake your head and peer down at your shoes.

He gently nudges your chin with his fingertips. “What do you need?”

Hesitantly, you lift your head once more, two sets of pleading eyes meeting each other. You chew on your lip, contemplating your response, before saying, “I need to not think. To turn my mind off.”

Bob’s quiet for a few beats as he mulls over your admission. “That’s what you really want?”

You’re momentarily stunned by the lower octave and rougher edge to his voice. You almost forget that he’s waiting for your confirmation, so you lightly nod in response, eyes locked with his own.

Wordlessly, Bob catches your jaw in his hands, his thumb slowly moving back and forth across your bottom lip in a tantalizing motion. After several sweeps of his thumb, he presses it firmly against you, silently requesting that you part your lips. You oblige him and as soon as you do, his thumb enters your mouth. Your tongue darts out to wet it and your lips wrap around him, closing your eyes to savor the way he pushes it farther into your mouth.

“Good girl. Just like that, honey.”

This elicits a whimper from you because he knows the effect his compliments have on you. When his thumb pulls out of your welcoming mouth, you find yourself thrumming with anticipation. Your heart is hammering against your chest and your toes are curling inside your shoes as you await his next move. It’s almost torturous.

He crouches down and carefully removes your shoes, one at a time, his eyes refusing to leave yours. He caresses your calves and his touch alone has you weak in the knees. Without warning, his hands grab the back of your thighs and he wraps your legs around his waist as he ascends the stairs with you in tow. Your hands play with the tufts of hair positioned at his nape as your chest fits comfortably against his.

Once you reach the bedroom, he gingerly lays you down on the bed, a hungry and determined look evident in his eyes.

Your hands begin to lift the hem of his t-shirt, but he stops you.

“No,” he objects in a low voice. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. I wanna make you feel good, baby. No thinking. Just feeling.”

You shiver at his words. You’ve never been more eager to be intimate with him than you are at this moment.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His lips descend on your neck and a soft moan leaves your lips as he litters your neck with kisses, licks, and marks that are proof of his love for you. Although you try to remain still, you can’t help yourself from lifting your chest toward him, silently imploring for more of his touch. Needing more, more, more.

He chuckles against you, understanding your plea. “So needy for me, baby. Such a greedy thing.”

“Bob. Please.” You’re growing impatient and have no right to feel this way. He’s just getting started, after all.

He leans up on his knees and stares down at you laid out beneath him, sporting a smirk that seems to imply he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His hand expertly dives under your dress, gradually climbing until he’s reached your stomach. When his hand finds the cups of your bra, he squeezes each one, but the fabric prevents you from enjoying the full sensation.

“You know better than to hide them from me,” he chides.

“I-I have to wear a bra or my nipples will show through my dress.”

“Mmmm.” He nods in agreement. “Because no one deserves to see them. These are for me only, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Only for you, Bob.”

“Sit up for me,” he orders gently, guiding you so that he’s able to support you in this position. As he pulls down your zipper, he plants several kisses on the side of your forehead, his sweetness almost overwhelming after the day you endured. His touch grounding you when you need it most.

Bob peels the fabric from your body, helping you remove your arms from the confining sleeves. He pulls it down your body and you use your feet to kick off the now rumpled dress on the bedroom floor. Before you can resume your position beneath him, he deftly unclasps your sleek black bra and flicks his skillful tongue against your exposed, peaked nipple, causing you to fall back against the mattress.

Your unabashed moans fill the room as your fingernails dig into the thick comforter. You’ve imagined moments like these on nights when you were alone and Bob was deployed miles and miles away with email being your sole form of contact. But knowing that you have him here, that this is real, is enough to send you careening over the edge.

His tongue is strategically rolling your pointed nipple back and forth and you find yourself fighting the urge to touch yourself because his touch is worth the wait. When he moves to your other nipple, your hands card through his hair and your legs wrap around his waist because you need to be as close to him as possible. This closeness allows you to feel his bottom half and his erection is prominent, reminding you that he’s as turned on as you are right now.

His mouth travels down your stomach as it leaves wet and somewhat sloppy kisses in its wake. Your nipples are now exposed to the cool air and missing the heat of his mouth, but its current destination is enough to dull your disappointment.

His nose nudges the lacy edge of your black panties, but he doesn’t rush. His sincere eyes meet yours questioningly.

“Can I eat you out, sweetheart?”

“Please, Bobby. Take care of me.”

“Always.” He presses a soft kiss to your clothed center before tugging the fabric to the side and dipping his tongue between your soaked folds. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You try to cross your legs, a little self-conscious about your body’s response to his minimal touch, but he protests.

“Don’t hide from me. Please. Don’t ever hide from me.”

Your legs fall to the side and he tugs your panties down and flings them over his shoulder. The sight of him positioned between your legs with his slightly askew glasses, perfectly styled hair, and enthusiastic gaze is something to behold. His strong hands grasp your thighs and his tongue laps at you fervently. Within seconds, you’re bucking against him and he holds you down, wanting to take his time in tasting you. His tongue enters you and you yelp in surprise as pleasure surges throughout your body.

His tongue moves upwards and swirls around your clit before sucking on it as if it’s the greatest flavor of candy he’s ever tasted. You can’t imagine it ever being any better than this, yet he always manages to prove you wrong the next time. You’ve never been so ecstatic to be wrong.

You feel your orgasm approaching and as much as you want to wait until he’s seated inside you, you can’t garner the strength to tell him to stop. Instead, you pray that he doesn’t stop because you want this. You need this. Less than a minute later, your release arrives. “You’re making me come, Bob. I can’t-“ Your words abruptly trail off and you feel wetness pool out of you, but Bob doesn’t change his motions. His tongue accepts everything you’re giving him with enthusiasm.

When Bob pulls away and meets your satiated, dazed face, his glasses are fogged and his mouth is glistening.

“Bobby.” With this singular word, his mouth is on yours in an instant and he’s kissing you passionately, his tongue clashing against your own. You bring him to your level and clutch him to your chest.

“Not done with you yet,” he growls and this intensifies the heat blooming in your chest along with the achiness thundering between your legs.

He swiftly removes his jeans and t-shirt, but before he strips completely, he guides your hand to the massive bulge that’s barely contained by his briefs. “That’s what you do to me. Every day.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth, even though you’re cognizant of how easily you’re able to turn him on. Though somehow, he seems bigger this time, if that’s even possible.

“Need you inside of me,” you whine impatiently, growing frustrated without his closeness, without his body claiming your own.

“Can’t be premature, honey,” he reminds you. He leans over your exposed body to fetch the vial of lube in the drawer of his nightstand. Although it’s no longer painful, there’s still a burning stretch that accompanies the first few minutes of him entering you. The lube reduces your discomfort and even though you prefer not to prolong the timeframe when Bob’s not inside of you, you know you’re always grateful for it once he’s where he belongs.

He strokes his length with a generous handful of the sticky substance and you watch him, mesmerized at the sight of his mouth-watering, glistening cock. He’s a delicious eight inches with a plush head that always hits the right spots.

“Spread your legs for me, honey,” he instructs sweetly and you notice the blush that colors his cheeks when you heed his command. Even after all this time.

Bob languidly strokes his cock against your soaking clit and through your drenched folds. “Fuck,” he mutters, his eyes scrunching shut. “You feel so good like this. Can’t get over how wet you are.”

“I-I’m sorry. Can’t help it,” you admit as you find yourself barely holding on.

“Don’t apologize. I love it. Love that you’re so needy for me.” He continues sliding his dick up and down your clit and your hands grasp his forearms as you try to steel yourself. You glance at his dick, now covered in a combination of lube and your arousal, and the way it moves against you in a frenzied manner while his glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. The sight is so erotic that your body begins to shake. It’s already happening again.

“B…Bob.”

“Come for me. Give it to me and don’t hold back,” he says breathlessly.

A sharp cry pierces the otherwise silent room as a deluge of pleasure consumes you. You relish every second of it, riding the heady wave of euphoria until it’s gone and you’re nothing but mush.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically just as Bob moves so that he hovers above you. “You’re definitely ready for me now,” he shares with a shy smile despite the events that just took place. He lines himself up and fleeting eyes meet yours to confirm he can proceed. Your fingertips graze his cheek with a feather-light touch and the two of you exchange earnest smiles.

Bob slowly pushes himself inside of you and the burning stretch that’s accompanied the other times is almost absent. Once he’s fully seated inside of you, he exhales deeply and shuts his eyes in concentration. You know he’s trying to focus in an effort to make this last as long as possible.

You brush the stray tendrils of hair that fall in his face aside and he looks up at your touch. “It’s okay, Bob. You can move. Just wanna feel you.”

He wordlessly shifts forward and this singular action practically steals the breath from your lungs. He’s so deep and it wasn’t until he reached that spot that you realized how much you yearned for this. This intimacy, this contact, this unparalleled devotion.

Bob inches out only to enter you again and you’re clawing at and clutching at the expanse of his broad shoulders.

“You have the sweetest little pussy. Being inside you feels like home.”

All you can do is make incoherent noises because his sinful movements are robbing you of your voice. Of your ability to do much of anything besides bask in this glorious session of lovemaking. He directs your chin downward. “Look at that. The way you respond to me.”

Watching him disappear and reappear over and over again causes your head to spin. You’re so wet that a prominent squelching noise seems to echo off the walls. Bob notices it, too, because he’s biting his lip and hastening his movements.

“You trust me?” he asks in a serious tone.

“Always,” you reply.

He takes your legs and places each one on his opposite shoulder. He then resumes his movements, but picks up the pace, and this angle causes your vision to blur, colors fading in and out.

“Beautiful,” he punctuates with a particularly emphatic thrust. “You’re so beautiful,” he gushes.

“Honey…honey,” you moan, a victim of his tender words in tandem with every thrust and twist of his hips. You clench around him and Bob shouts, unable to contain himself.

“Close, honey. So. Close.” His voice is huskier, tired, and indicative that he’s in need of a release.

You clench around him again and this time, he freezes above you before a final thrust of his hips that ends with his seed spilling into and dripping out of you. He’s spent and already gave you two orgasms, but this doesn’t stop him from getting you to the finish line a third time.

“You don’t…you d-“

“I made a promise to take care of you, baby. I never break my promises, especially when I’ve made them to you.” He bends down and kisses you, communicating with each stroke of his tongue. You’re important to me. I’ll always take care of you. I love you.

In the middle of your kisses, your third orgasm overtakes you and your release soaks his cock, the two of you a complete mess from your activities. When you come down from your high, Bob rolls over and pulls you to his chest that is now covered in a sheen of sweat, peppering your forehead with kisses.

“Thank you for that,” you whisper bashfully against his chest. “That was amazing.”

He tips your chin so that you’re face to face now. His eyes are soft again and he’s looking at you with such reverence that you think you might cry. “You’re amazing,” he tells you. He tangles his fingers in your hair as his eyes search your face. “Was that what you needed?”

“It was better,” you correct with a kiss on his nose.

A broad grin stretches across his handsome face. “Anything for my best girl.”

Several minutes pass before you speak against, the afterglow of your lovemaking too precious to interrupt.

“Um…Bob?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Did you ever turn the stove off?”

“Oops,” he says sheepishly, causing both of you to erupt into laughter as your naked bodies intertwine and hearts beat in unison.

@bradshawsbaby @luminousnotmatter @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @bobgasm @delopsia @up-thereinthesky @floydsmuse @roosterforme @ryebecca

[jmojellybae]

You Make Me Feel Mighty Real (Mighty Real)

Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader

Word count: 8k (yea)

Summary: After an extremely frustrating day at work, there’s only one thing Robin wants to do.

CW: Smut 18+. Strap-on sex (reader receiving) Makeshift blindfold. Makeshift cuffs. Top!Robin. Kissing. Making out. Pet names. Explicit language. Spitting. Praising. Spanking. Rough sex. All characters involved are 18+

A/N: Long opening ahead. I needed to set the scene okay! I’ve never wrote strap on sex before so I hope I did an okay job.

Masterlist

🎵 Enjoy my 80’s Robin playlist here🎵

The last light of the evening sun began to fade behind the trees as you turned into the parking lot of Family Video, ten minutes before the small rental store was suppose to close. You leaned in closer to the steering wheel, looking around as you drove at a snails pace through the lot. You’re surprised to see how many cars still lingered this late into the day.

“The arcade must be packed tonight.” You muttered to yourself as you struggled to find a parking spot.

You drove around in circles waiting for a spot to be vacated. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a couple walked out of Family Video and entered a car that was parked right in front of the store. As they pulled out, you stepped on the gas a little too hard but with exceptional deftness, you swung your car around and perfectly slotted into the parking space just as they drove off.

You blew a puff of air through your lips before turning off the car engine. You and Robin were going to hang out at her house tonight, an event you were very much looking forward too. Whenever you had the chance to pick her up from work, you would hang out inside the store to chat with Robin a bit before she had to close up, or until Keith kicked you out for being a nuisance. You check your watch and see that you’ve got about a few minutes to talk to Robin before she had to start her closing routine.

You got out of your car and walked with a little pep in your step toward the door, but when you stepped inside, you could barely hear the welcoming bell above you ring. The store is loud and crowded. You stop dead in your tracks as you take in the chaotic scene around you. There were kids running around screaming at the top of their lungs for no reason, teenagers being rowdy and obnoxious, and several display VHS cases were scattered on the floor. Your eyes land on the register desk, and you spot Steve and Robin dealing with a ridiculously long line. Steve’s usual perfect hair is pathetically flat and lopsided, and your poor girlfriend’s face is so blanched that she looks almost ghostly. Keith runs passed you and almost knocks you over. He’s carrying a comically large stack of VHS cases trying to get them back onto the shelves.

You wave your hands in Robin’s direction but fail to get her attention. You don’t try again and you definitely don’t need to be here right now while the store is in literal shambles, so you retreat back to your car and lean against the driver’s side door, watching through the windows to observe the pandemonium that is Family Video.

8:00pm comes along and there are still a few customers inside the store. Robin comes into view through the front windows and flips the open sign to close. She sees you, and her lifeless eyes light up with incredible brightness. You give her a little wave and blow her a discrete kiss. She smiles wide and ducks her head shyly with blush. She looks back up with apologetic eyes and mouths “sorry” before turning on her heel to tend to the rest of the straggling customers. ‘This is going to take a while.’ You think to yourself. You sigh sadly and reach inside your messenger bag to retrieve your trusty Walkman. You take a seat on the trunk of your car, plop on the fuzzy headphones, and click the play button.

—

You entertained yourself with music and people watching for a while. The sun has fully set, and the bright lights of the street lamps illuminate the now almost empty parking lot. You check your watch again and see that almost an hour has passed by. It’s never taken Robin this long to close, but you could only imagine how much work they needed to do so the store could be presentable for the morning. You switch off your Walkman just as your tape ended and turned around. Right on queue, Keith, Steve and Robin step out of Family Video looking worse for wear.

Keith grumbles something to his two employees as he stomps away into the darkness of the night. Steve has his hand on Robin’s shoulder saying something to her but unfortunately, you can’t quite here him. Robin’s head hangs low and she nods her head weakly at whatever he is saying. You take off your headphones and hang them around your neck, but before you can jump off the back of your car, Steve finger salutes you in acknowledgement and pats Robin’s back before getting into his car. You wave goodbye to him as he peels out of the parking lot, and Robin makes her way slowly over to you, feet sluggishly dragging against the pavement.

Robin steps between your legs with her head still hanging. She looks so small and defeated that it breaks your heart. You don’t say a word, knowing what a taxing day it must have been for her, mentally and physically. Instead, you open your arms wide and inviting. She steps into your embrace, burying her face into your shoulder. Her long arms wrap around you and she clings to the back of your shirt, bunching up the material tight enough that her knuckles go white.

“I know babe.” You whisper softly into her disheveled hair

You wrap your arms around her and gently rock her back on forth. Robin whimpers against your neck as you rub soothing circles along her back.

“Hey. Let’s get out of here and go back to your house to—mmph!” You’re cut off suddenly by Robin roughly planting her lips on yours. The unexpectedness of it steals the air from your lungs and you have to hold out your arms behind you to keep yourself from being knocked down. Robin moves her hands to your waist, griping your sides and pulling you flush against her. You gasp into the kiss, and you have to forcefully pry her off of you to get her stop. You didn’t want to of course, but you are aware that the two of you are still very much in public.

“Wow, Robin.” You say breathlessly and hold onto her shoulders feeling drunk off the quick but fiery kiss.

Robin steps back, and little embarrassed by her forward actions. She rubs the back of her neck meekly, and looks around to see if she messed up by kissing you so publicly, but luckily, the only people that seem to be outside are the two of you.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” She croaks out, voice thick with exhaustion. “I just missed you so much, and today has been like, the worst day ever.”

Robin wraps her arms tightly around herself and lets out a shuddering breath. You can visibly see her trying to hold in her emotions with incredible effort. You carefully crawl down the hood of your trunk and step into her space. You take one of her hands in yours and give her a soft squeeze.

“Do you want to take a minute before we go?” You gently ask while thumbing over the soft skin of her knuckles.

The comforting touch seems to relax Robin a little bit, and she shakes her head.

“God no, I need to get out of here. I just need to be with you.” She tries to smile, but it comes out crooked and sad.

You nod your head in understanding and bring her hand up to your lips to quickly kiss her knuckles.

“Let’s go then my dear.”

—

A short while later, you arrive at Robin’s house. Robin practically tumbles out of the passenger side as soon as you park and you can’t help but laugh as you watch her scramble to the front door. You catch up to her just as she gets the door unlocked, and she holds the door open for you with a exaggerated bow.

When you make it inside, Robin presses herself right behind you, eagerly ushering you into the direction of her room. You break out into giggles as she continuously pats your ass urging you to walk faster.

“I’m going! Sheesh!” You shout at her, unable to hide the amusement in your voice.

“Not fast enough!”

Robin wraps her arms around your front, bear hugging you from behind. She leans her entire weight on you, forcing you to walk faster to keep yourself from falling down.

You stumble into her room, almost tripping, but Robin’s firm hold on you keeps you upright. She keeps an arm around your waist and reaches back with other to fumble with the light switch, flicking it on. Robin is chuckling in your ear, it’s an infectious sound, scratchy, high pitched and so very Robin. Her dreary mood from earlier has all but disappeared now that she’s home with you. She launches herself with you still secured tightly in her arms onto her unkempt bed and you land on your side with a thud. You maneuver in her hold so you can face her. Robin is smiling wide, almost blinding you with her toothy grin. You smile softly back at her, bringing your hand up to caress her blush dusted cheeks.

“So…” You begin to ask. “Do you want to talk about what happened at work?”

A flicker of anxiety passes over Robin’s face and she scrunches up her nose like there was a smell of something foul in the air.

“Not really…” Robin’s gaze wanders around the room as she tries to look anywhere else but your concerned eyes.

You prop yourself on your elbow. You know it’s probably better not to pry but you just wanted some reassurance from your girlfriend that she was okay.

“Steve looked pretty worried about you before we left. Did something happen?”

Robin takes a deep breath, considering whether or not she should talk about whatever happened today. She starts to spin her middle finger ring with her thumb, a tick she always does when she’s nervous about something.

“Work was just—a lot.” Robin finally speaks. “I kinda had uh…I kinda freaked out today. It wasn’t pretty.”

You nod. You’ve seen Robin have these “freak outs” before, and your heart aches knowing that she had to go through one at work. You want to inquire further but Robin speaks again before you open your mouth.

“It felt like I had no control of anything today. Steve was just making sure I was alright, but listen—“

Robin waves her hand in the air dismissively and pushes you back against the mattress. She leans over you and plants her lips on yours, kissing you deeply. It’s a kiss that’s just as needy and desperate as when she kissed you in the parking lot earlier. You can’t help but hum contently into Robin’s mouth, you accept that this was a way for her to get you to shut up but you’re not too upset about it.

“I really don’t—want to talk about work right now.” Robin says in between kisses.

“Oh?” You giggle against her lips. “What do you want to talk about it?”

Robin is fully on top of you now, settled in between your legs and her hands on either side of your head. She’s looking down at you with a crooked grin, eyes dark and filled with a rare and dangerous hunger. Your breath hitches when you feel her slightly roll her hips into yours.

“I don’t wanna talk at all.” Robin admits in a low and husky voice.

You inhale sharply. The implication of her words sends a tingling sensation throughout your whole body and you can’t fight the goosebumps that arise on your skin. You take an unsteady breath when Robin leans down and ghosts her lips against your neck. You shiver at the small contact and naturally roll your head to the side to give her better access. Robin lets out a deep, appreciative growl that rumbles in her chest. She fervently applies hot, open mouth kisses to the sensitive skin of your pulse point.

“Robin…” You whimper softly.

Robin bucks her hips into you again at the sound of her name falling breathlessly from your lips, a frisson of excitement ignites inside you at the motion. Robin moves lower down your neck and bites down on the muscle on your shoulder. It wasn’t a gentle bite either, and you hiss at the brief but delicious pain.

Robin is unyielding, her rough hands glide across your chest to grope you over your shirt and her lips find yours again in a bruising kiss. You start to writhe and whine beneath her, your body and mind clearly being affected by her hurried pace. Her thumbs swipe across your hardened nipples and you can’t contain the pathetic moan that escapes you. It takes an enormous amount of willpower to pull away from her. You put a hand gently on her chest when she tries to lean back in.

“Robin, wait.”

Robin’s eyes are half lidded and her now swollen lips are parted. She looks completely love drunk and her expression sends white hot heat straight to your core.

“I’m sorry.” She says, voice gravely. “I just—I’m not in the mood for slow, or gentle right now.”

You grip the collar of her shirt at her confession. It’s not often Robin gets like this. Love making with your girlfriend is usually gentle, sensual, and could be drawn out for hours if Robin wanted, all the while she’s whispering sweet nothings against your skin. You loved that of course, but you’re not going to lie to yourself. There were some days that you wished Robin would take you hard and fast more often.

“You promise me you’re okay?” You ask gently.

Robin’s lips quirk up in a adoring smile. She runs a hand through your hair and gives you a quick kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Promise. I’m okay. I um—I think I need this.” She admits casually, albeit a little embarrassed.

A formidable, lustful feeling washes over you thinking about how Robin’s only want after a terrible day at work is to have you.

“Is that okay?” She questions after a beat.

“Yes.” You state enthusiastically without hesitation. “God yes.”

A predatory smirk stretches across Robin’s face and you bite your lip in anticipation. You roll your hips into Robin’s encouraging her more.

“You can do whatever you want with me. Please Robin.”

Robin face plants into the mattress and groans into the sheets at hearing your desperate plea. You laugh at her theatrics but the sound dies in your throat when you feel her hand snake its way under your shirt. Her calloused finger tips dance across your stomach and you arch into the teasing touch, wanting more. Robin maneuvers herself so that her knee is pressed securely in between your legs. You can’t help but let out an embarrassing whimper at the small contact and you can practically hear Robin’s smug grin in your ear.

“I’ve been wanting to hear those sounds all day, pretty girl.” She says, her warm breath on your ear sends a bone rattling shudder throughout your body.

Robin sits up resting on her knees, her freckled face already flushed down to her neck. You lock eyes with her deep blue ones, and she’s staring at you with such intense reverence it almost makes you feel self conscious. She tugs on your shirt, prompting you to sit up. You lift your arms in the air and Robin pulls your shirt over your head, only breaking eye contact for a second before tossing it somewhere behind her. She takes a brief moment to admire your lacy black bra and playfully tugs on the tiny pink bow that’s stitched at the center.

“Matching?” Robin asks with an amused lilt, but she definitely already knows the answer.

“Find out.” You say, biting your bottom lip.

Robin’s hands are on your jeans instantly, expertly unclasping the buttons and nearly ripping the zipper off. She slides off the bed to pull down your jeans and you hear them hit them floor. Robin smiles appreciatively when she see’s you are indeed matching. She methodically traces the band of your underwear with a finger, barely touching your skin and her blown eyes wander all over your body. You huff out impatiently.

“Thought you didn’t want slow or gentle, babe?” You tease.

Robin hums. “Just taking a minute to remind myself how lucky I am.” She answers in a soft voice. Her slender hands move lower to squeeze the plushness of your thighs.

You blush furiously. Robin always stares at your body like it’s the first time she’s seeing it, and it never feels to make you feel so incredibly loved and cherished.

“I just cant believe you’re actually mine”

After the temporary respite to admire you, Robin starts to move a little faster. Her hands work their way undressing you completely and in seconds, you’re now laying bare before her. The cool air meets your heated skin and you’re grateful for the brief relief.

Robin groans and crawls back on top of you immediately. You wrap your legs around her waist and throw your arms over her neck pulling her impossibly closer. She roughly takes your lips again in a frenzied kiss. You gasp when Robin forces her tongue in your mouth, but you gladly welcome the intrusion. Her velvety tongue explores in earnest, sending a sharp thrill straight to your center with every swipe. The material of Robin’s work suit and pants rubbing against your bare skin creates an unbearable friction that you want to remedy quickly.

You start to slip off your girlfriend’s Family Video vest but she swats your hand away to stop you. You whine into her mouth and she smiles against your lips. She pulls back and her mouth curls into a cocky grin.

“You know…” Robin starts to move lower, leaving feather light kisses to your cheek, chin, and neck. “I’ve kinda always wanted to eat you out in my suit.”

“Y—yea?” You squeak. You laugh breathlessly at her assertion but it morphs into a moan when Robin starts to suck on the sensitive flesh just below your collar bone

Robin croons against you and releases your skin with a small wet pop, leaving a bright red mark where her lips were.

“Yep. I fantasize doing it at Family Video too.”

Robin lips and tongue continue their pathway lower and lower, leaving a pattern of cherry red bruises on your breasts and stomach. Your breathing gets more erratic the closer she gets to your soaked cunt and she’s almost there until suddenly, Robin gets up and walks to the end of the bed.

“Robin? Oh—!”

Robin hooks her arms around your thighs and swiftly pulls you to the foot of the bed in one motion. She steps close between your legs and you feel her hips press flush against your cunt. She’s looking down at you with an intense hunger in her eyes. You didn’t quite understand it before, but looking up at Robin towering over you, breathing hard in her work suit ignites something indescribable deep inside you. Your pussy throbs at the sight.

“I think about having you spread out on top of the counter, just like this.” Robin casually gestures to your position.

“Robin…”

“Hell. I thought about it today, plenty of times.”

Robin steps back a little and spreads your legs wide. She looks down, and chuckles darkly at seeing a wet spot you left on her pants.

“Guess I’ll just have to use my imagination for right now though.”

Robin sinks down to her knees and plunges her tongue deep between your folds without warning. You cry out loudly at the sudden burst of pleasure, back arching off the bed and hands clutching the bedsheets in a white knuckle grip. Robin moans against your cunt and the tiny vibrations cause you to buck your hips further into her face.

“Fuck, I love the way you taste.” She mumbles, tongue greedily lapping up every bit of your arousal.

You can only let out a strangled whine in response. Robin enthusiastically worships your dripping cunt with reckless abandon, her head moving up, down, and side to side, determined to make sure no part of you goes untouched. She finds your aching clit and wraps her plush lips around the sensitive nub, lashing erratically at it with her tongue. She hooks her hands under your knees and keeps you spread and open for her. Her pace is relentless. Your mouth hangs open like you want to scream but no sound comes out. You sit up on your elbows and Robin is already staring right into your eyes. Her once beautiful blue eyes are now consumed by her blown pupils and a shadow of pure lust darkens her features. You reach down and run your fingers through her messy hair, tugging slightly at the roots, but once again, Robin slaps your wrist away in a hurry.

Robin unlatches herself from you. “I’m in control here, pretty girl.” She says in a gravely voice potent with domineering swagger.

“It felt like I had no control of anything today…”

You recall Robin’s words from earlier, and a wave of realization washes over you. Robin needs this. She needs to remember that she can have control over something after having such a shitty day, and if that that means having control over you, well, you’ll happily let her have it.

You swallow hard before nodding your head submissively. Robin looks relieved at your response.

“Thank you.”

Robin whispers so quietly you thought you’d imagined hearing it. You don’t think you were meant to hear it anyway, because she’s promptly back on your pussy with renewed vigor. She points her tongue and dips it abruptly into your entrance.

“Fuck Robin!”

The act catches you completely by surprise, and you can’t control the throaty moan that escapes your body as Robin swirls her tongue deep inside you. Robin presses her face further into you until you can feel the tip of her nose pressed firmly against your clit. You squirm frantically and you can’t do anything but clutch desperately at the bed sheets to stay grounded. Unable to control yourself, you start to buck wildly into her face, trying to chase even more pleasure than what Robin is giving you.

“Greedy thing.” Robin chastises.

Robin wraps her arms around the top of your thighs, keeping you still. Her blunt nails dig into your skin, imprinting pretty little crimson half moons. You sob pathetically as your movements get restricted. Luckily, Robin doesn’t let you stew in misery for very long. She starts to thrust her tongue in and out of you and the tiny, meticulous, motions has your eyes rolling back in your head seeing stars and the fire burning in the pit of your abdomen threatens to engulf you entirely.

It’s so much. It’s so much and not enough at the same time. Robin knows this, and you know how she can be. She’s definitely toying with you.

“Robin, please I—”

You can’t finish what you wanted to say. Robin lets out a frustrated grunt and climbs on top of you, grabbing your chin roughly.

“Fine, but we’re gonna do this my way. Understand?” She says harshly, but her eyes betray her. They are soft and tender, contradicting her callous voice and they hold a silent question. Robin searches your face for any doubts, but you hold none. If anything, you think you’re turned on more than you have been in a while, and the thought of Robin having her way with you excites you beyond measures.

“Yes.” You emphasize your neediness with a breathy whine and you feel Robin shiver above you.

“Good.” Robin’s voice cracks. You’re not sure if it’s from sudden nervousness, or unrestrained desire but either way, it makes your heart flutter. “Scoot.”

You do as she says, and scoot back from the edge of the bed till your head meets the numerous pillows Robin sleeps with. Robin kicks off her converse before settling on top of you, straddling your hips. You sigh raggedly through your nose when you feel the intense heat coming from her clothed center. She starts to loosen the tie from her shirt collar and you watch her rings shimmer under the light while her long fingers clumsily work the knot. She yanks her tie free and holds it in her palm like it’s some delicate foreign silk. You gulp in anticipation.

“I’m going to blindfold you.” Robin says shakily

It doesn’t come out as a statement like she meant, but more of a question. A delicate one. You trust Robin, and it’s not like you’re unfamiliar to such a thing with her. You sit up slowly, holding her gaze and nod. Robin crashes her lips to yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips, and god, it’s the hottest thing in the world. Robin breaks the kiss and brings up the tie to your face. Your eyes flutter close, the anticipation setting your nerve endings on fire. She carefully positions the piece of fabric around your eyes, determined that they will be certainly be fully covered. Robin ties it perfectly. It sits tight but comfortable on your face and just for good measure, you open your eyes under the material and are met with complete darkness.

Perfect

“I’m not done.”

Robin’s voice makes you jump a bit unaware that she got closer to you. Her hands roughly grab you and flip you over so that you’re laying flat on your stomach against the bed. A salacious moan falls from your lips at being manhandled and you can hear Robin laugh behind you, sounding all too pleased with herself. Your ears perk up when it sounds like Robin is undoing her belt buckle. You turn your head but if you course you can’t see anything. You’re about to sit up but Robin straddles your upper thighs just below your ass, keeping you down.

“Give me your hands.” Robin commands.

You bury your face into the sheets and let out a drawn out whimper. You reach behind you with both hands and Robin promptly grabs them. You feel cool leather on your wrists and you can only assume it’s Robin’s belt. Robin takes her time, intricately looping her belt in and out, until finally, you feel cuffs form around your wrists. You give the makeshift hand cuffs a test, attempting to pull your hands apart but surprisingly, Robin’s got you secured pretty damn good.

“Where’d you learn this huh?”

“Got bored one day.” Robin answers brazenly.

You feel Robin lean on you, pressing her weight into you a little. You practically purr at the comforting weight, and she rolls her hips, grinding into your ass. She moves her lips to your ear, nibbling at the earlobe.

“You look so pretty like this.” Robin coos. “All tied up just for me.”

“Robin please. I need something. Anything.” You cry out. You press your backside in time with her grinding to give significance to your desperation, trying to chase any kind of friction.

Robin kisses between your shoulder blades and you feel her weight leave the bed. You lift your head, trying to hear what she’s doing, and then it hits you of just how restricted you are. You can’t see, you can’t move. You try and move your arms again but your wrists are met with leather digging deliciously into your skin. Your brain short circuits thinking about how much control Robin has of you right now.

Robin sounds like she searching for something underneath the bed, and you know exactly what that something is. A shiver runs down your spine when you hear a box slide across the floor.

“Been a while since I’ve used this on you.” Robin says in a throaty voice.

God. Robin is about to fuck you senseless with a strap on. You feel arousal drip out of your cunt as you start you start clenching around nothing in anticipation. The bed depresses behind you with Robin’s weight, and your ears twitch when you hear what you believe to be Robin taking off her clothes, followed by the indistinguishable sounds of buckles being fastened and tugged. You lift your hips in the air like a pathetic dog in heat, making sure Robin see’s just how wet and ready you are for her.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, god—” One of Robin’s hand grips your ass so hard you fear the flesh is already bruising. The cold metal of her rings brand you like a fire hot poker.

“Robin, please, please, please.” You beg on the verge of tears, but you can’t even feel embarrassed about it. You know you sound pathetic, but the desire to have your girlfriend inside you is making your mind hazy with pure lust.

Robin lifts your hips up higher and then pushes a plush pillow under you, keeping your back arched and hips elevated. You feel a rush of cold air on your pussy and thighs, acutely reminding you of how soaked you are.

“So perfect, and mine.”

You feel the rounded tip of the plastic cock brush again your entrance and you try to chase it, but Robin’s ironclad grip on your hip keeps you still. You only just managed to hold back a sob.

“Be patient, pretty girl.”

Robin’s voice is so raspy and low it’s almost unrecognizable. Robin rubs the head up and down your slit, making sure to coat as much arousal on the toy as possible. You jolt every time she presses against your clit, the languid motions make dizzy.

“Robin I can’t—”

Your words morph into a high pitched moan when the head starts to penetrate you. That beautiful, euphoric burn of being stretched has you whimpering into the mattress arching your back more, making it easier for Robin to slip into you. Robin hums appreciatively as she breaks through the initial resistance and the smooth length of the toy gradually glides inside you. You clench around the cock, greedily taking in every inch. It takes immense self control on your part not to push back against Robin’s hips and fuck yourself. Not like you could anyway. Robin’s fingers dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, anchoring you as she pushes deeper inside.

“Fuck—”

Robin groans when she finally sinks the entire length into you, buried to the hilt, causing your thighs to quiver from the sensation of being completely filled. Robin stills for a moment, letting you adjust. You flex your fingers erratically in your cuffs, trying to grasp at anything to steady yourself, but to no avail. A wave of helplessness crashes over you, but it only excites you more. The length of the toy slides out of you halfway and you hear Robin sigh breathlessly.

“Shit. You’re so wet, you take me so easily.” She says, pushing back into you again.

You’re definitely aware of how aroused you are, judging by the absence of resistance the second time Robin slowly thrusts into you, but by the third lazy thrust, you test the waters a bit and push your hips backwards, attempting to silently communicate for Robin to go faster. Robin chuckles arrogantly.

“What do you want?”

“Robin…”

Robin suddenly pulls out of you, and you wail in agony at the loss of fullness. You struggle against the bed, kicking your feet and blindly bucking your hips, but Robin swiftly brings a hand down against your ass in a scolding slap. The force ripples your skin, you twitch and yelp at the shocking contact. The pretty rings on Robin’s fingers only add to the brief, sweet pain.

“Tell me, pretty girl.”

“Fuck! Robin please fuck me. I need it—need you so badly—ah!”

Robin plunges herself back inside you almost angrily and starts a brutal pace. The noises that come out of your mouth are borderline inhuman, mixed between strangled sobs and choked gasps. The intense, repeated motions of being filled and empty again, again, and again at such an insane pace shatters your mind into oblivion. The only, singular thought your brain can comprehend anymore is how good it feels to be fucked so roughly by your girlfriend.

Her grip on you hardens like a vice and she tugs back on your hips in time with her ruthless rutting, determined that you take the full length of her cock every time.

“That’s it…you can take it.” Robin shakily grunts, and she promptly slaps your ass again.

Blinded and bound, all you can do is helplessly lay on your stomach and take it, just like Robin wants, but you do so happily, deliriously. Robin’s tempo doesn’t relent, and your face is getting buried deeper and deeper into the mattress the more she pounds into you. Loud sounds of skin slapping into skin reverberate off the walls along with your nonsensical, vulgar drivel.

“Fuck— Robin, you’re so fucking deep.” You sputter, it was difficult to form a word with Robin’s incessant thrusting. “You feel so good inside me. So fucking good.”

Your voice trails off into incoherent babbling. You barely register the small whimper Robin squeaks out, clearly affected by your breathless praising. Robin hunches over you, and you feel her hands brace close by your shoulders on either side. Her new angle reduces her movements to short, but deep ruts, and the head of the silicone cock continuously prods the innermost parts of you. Despite your blindfold, it truly feels like your vision blacks out for a moment, and your insides burst into flames from the overwhelming friction. The divine mix of pain and pleasure has you blathering repeatedly into the sheets with whiny cries. “Oh my fucking god” and “Yes, yes, yes” are the only constructive sentences you can even vocalize anymore.

Robin keeps the harsh momentum for a what felt like hours. You know somewhere deep in your scrambled consciousness, that it hasn’t been that long, but whatever magic Robin is doing has you loosing control of all your senses.

Robin pants harshly above you, her pace faltering a bit.

“I love you—love you so much.” She says, with surprising tenderness. “Fuck—”

Robin slips out of you unexpectedly and the sudden reprieve shocks some of your senses back into you.

“No, don’t stop Robin please—put it back inside me.” You plead over and over until your speech turns into pitiful, begging gibberish.

Robin takes a second to soothe you, tucking away some of your hair that’s stuck to your face with sweat.

“I’m gonna get these off you.”

Robin loosens the leather belt from your wrists and slowly slips them off, careful not to cause any unnecessary discomfort and throws it to the floor. Your arms fall limply to your sides and a great relief washes over you. Robin then takes away the pillow that’s under you

“Turn around, pretty girl.” She gently orders.

You try and lift yourself but your arms tremble with the effort. Robin helps you turn over so that you’re on your back and she reaches around your head to untie your blindfold.

“It’s gonna be bright.”

You make a sound of acknowledgment and Robin, with an extreme amount of delicacy, takes off the tie and tosses it. Your eyes flutter halfway open and it takes a moment for your vision to adjust. You blink away tears but you can see with a lot more clarity now. Robin is settled between your legs, staring at you with both intensity and concern. Her whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat, strands of honey hair stick beautifully to her face and forehead. Your eyes dart downward, and you see the glistening cock pointed right at your entrance, twitching slightly at any subtle movements.

“Robin please keep going you can’t—can’t leave me like this.” You gasp out, exasperated, clutching her arm like you’re afraid she might disappear at any moment.

Robin lets out a humorless laugh, shaky with relief, knowing she didn’t hurt you or go too far.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet.” Robin leans over and hovers over your quivering body and you wrap you legs around her waist instinctively. “Just wanted to get a good look at that pretty face when you cum around me.”

Robin kisses you deeply, passionately, like she wants to devour your entire soul, and you would absolutely let her if that’s what Robin wanted. You whimper in her mouth, unable to contain your overflowing desire. Robin curses under her breath, and reaches down between your sweating bodies to grip the length with purpose. She positions the head at your entrance and watches your mouth hang open and eyes flutter when she starts to slip inside you with ease. Robin groans deep in her chest when she buries herself deep inside you, like she could actually feel everything.

“Yes…” You hiss through gritted teeth, savoring that amazing feeling of being stuffed until you couldn’t take anymore.

Robin hooks her hands under your knees, pressing down firmly to keep you spread and open. She starts pumping her hips at a slower pace than before. It’s still a fast tempo, but now her only focus is making you feel as good as possible instead of outright fucking you like an animal. Robin’s stomach muscles shift with the strain of keeping a good rhythm, and you admire the way the soft glow of the low light plays off her body. She starts to roll her hips slightly upward, the head of the cock grinding against the swollen sweet spot inside you with every thrust.

“Oh shit—”

Robin starts to moan softly, and you can tell by her hard edged breathing and flushed cheeks that the friction of the harness is giving her pleasure as well.

“Oh god, Robin.”

Her name falls from your lips like a prayer, like you were pleading to the skies for rain after a summer’s drought. Robin holds your gaze, bewitched by your blissed out expression, and she swells with pride knowing she’s making you feel so goddamn good. You feel the coil in your lower abdomen tighten with boiling pressure. You just need a tiny bit more to get where you want to be.

“Robin, I need—fuck.”

“Mm, I’ve got you, pretty girl.”

In an act of outrageous obscenity, Robin spits down between your legs, saliva coating your quietly aching clit. Your body twitches at the sensation. Robin forgoes holding on to one of your legs to circle her thumb over the sensitive nub. You jerk and your eyes roll back in your head from the added pleasure.

“Please don’t stop Robin, don’t fucking stop—!” You yell out.

Robin wouldn’t dare stop. She finds a rhythm where she can fuck you and work your clit with relative ease. Both of you fill the bedroom with moans and breathless gasps. The bed starts to creak in time with Robin’s movements, beads of sweat fall slowly down the sides of her face from exertion. The sight, sounds of everything have you teetering on the edge. You feel the walls of your cunt clench tight around the cock and Robin’s thrusting become a little bit staggered.

“ ‘m close—”

“I know, I can tell.” Robin exhales sharply. “Cum for me please. You can do it, pretty girl.”

Your bite your lip, and you focus on Robin’s thumb frantically stroking your clit at the full force of the cock massaging your inner walls. The burning pressure that’s been building up within you all night finally breaks.

You’re grateful that there’s just the two of you in the house, but you’re also sure that you just alarmed the whole neighborhood with the guttural moan that breaks out of you. Your back arches off the bed, suspended in pure ecstasy. Robin makes a noise of pure delight at the sight of you becoming completely unhinged from such a powerful climax. You feel it everywhere, igniting every nerve ending in your body. Robin eases her movements on your sensitive clit, but continues to fuck you assertively through your orgasm, loving the way you’ve tightened around her. Blinding stars take over your vision when the tip of the cock keeps hitting that particular spot inside you. It almost makes you numb. After a few seconds, the sensitivity becomes too much, and you swiftly reach down and grab Robin’s wrist in an unspoken plea.

“ ‘s too much.”

Robin stops immediately. She leans down and kisses you sweetly, and it’s the most gentle thing she done all night. You wrap your arms around her neck and bury your hands in her hair, not caring about the dampness.

“You’re so perfect.” She murmurs.

You whimper against her lips when you’re hit with tiny aftershocks that cause your hips to jerk into her, and you wince. Robin kisses you one last time before leaning back to slowly slipping out of you, careful of your sensitivity. You groan when she fully pulls out of you, mourning the loss of fullness despite yourself. Robin rests on her knees catching her breath. You watch her, captivated by the way she looks. Robin takes a deep shuddering breath and runs a hand through her wet hair, and it’s all just too incredibly sexy.

Robin’s features have gone back to her usual softness. She takes in your trembling body and vacant fucked out gaze, proud of herself for reducing you to such a mess. Robin unfastens the harness and slips it off her hips before tossing it to the side. You whine childishly and make grabby hands. She smiles adoringly and crawls across the bed, plopping down next to you. You face one another, embracing in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs and soft breaths.

“Are you okay?” Robin asks, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

“More than okay.” You smile and cup Robin’s face. “What do you need?”

“You don’t have to do anything, pretty girl”

“But I want to.”

Robin hums and nods wordlessly. You start to move lower down her body, but she stops you.

“I want you just like this.”

Robin grabs your hand and guides it between her legs. You brush against her center, both of you gasping when you make contact with her wetness. Her eyes softly fluttered and she bites her bottom lip when your fingers dip past her folds. You work your fingers up and down Robin’s slit slowly, gathering up arousal.

“Shit—” Robin mumbles under her breath.

Robin hip’s jerk forward hen you find her clit, desperately trying to chase more friction. You stare into each other’s eyes as you lazily rub small tight circles. Her lips part and her blue eyes glass over from the pleasure of the gentle motions.

“Just like that.” Robin sighs, content with the soft and unhurried pace. “I’m already so close—fucking thing was rubbing against me the whole time.”

You don’t move your fingers any faster than what Robin needed. You keep your easy rhythm while Robin tiredly bucks into your hand. She starts breathing sharper, hot breath mixing with yours and she screws her eyes shut in concentration. You’re a little disappointed you can’t see her pretty eyes anymore, but Robin’s inevitable orgasm more than makes up for it. You pressed your forehead against Robin’s and you couldn’t stop the way your breathing picked up at the sound of her soft moans.

“I’ve got you babe, just let go.” You whisper.

The sound of your voice is all Robin needed to get herself over the edge. Her body goes rigid briefly, legs quivering when her orgasm delicately sneaks up on her. Her climax was gentle, beautiful, and exactly what she needed. It envelops her like a warm blanket and she curls into you slightly, wanting to hide in the feeling forever. Her mouth opens, breath caught in her throat for a silent moment before she turns her head and groans into the pillow. You stop moving your fingers letting Robin prolong the pleasure on her own. Her hips move in a broken rhythm against your hand until her body goes limp. You carefully withdraw your hand and wipe your fingers clean against your leg unabashed. Robin looks up from the pillow, and you take the opportunity to kiss her forehead, not caring about the faint taste of salt from lingering sweat.

“That was—shit. That was perfect.” Robin slurs.

You snort. “I didn’t do much.”

Robin laughs and shakes her head. “No I meant everything about tonight, silly.”

She lays on her back and pulls you closer to her. You snuggle up close to her side, swinging your leg over hers and draping your arm around her torso. Robin lazily drags her fingertips up and down your back and you practically melt into her.

“I’m like, the luckiest woman on the planet. No, no. The whole universe.” Robin punctuates her statement by gesturing wildly into the air.

She kisses the top of your head, and you could practically float with how light you are feeling.

—

A few minutes pass by and neither you or Robin has said a word for a while, content with just basking in each other’s warm presence. You idly play with the rings on Robin’s fingers until a wave of exhaustion hits you like a freight train. You feel your eyelids start to get heavy, but Robin makes a noise like she wants to say something.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I tripped a little kid today.” Robin blurts out.

It takes a moment for you to process what you just heard. You sit up, blinking at your girlfriend in confusion.

“You what?”

“I tripped a kid today. On purpose. At work.”

Robin purses her lips, looking both amused and ashamed at her confession.

“Robin!”

“What?! He was being a little asshole. He kept running around the back of our counter after I kept telling him very nicely to stop! God knows where his parents were, and the day was so shit. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

You breakout into a laughing fit, completely taken off guard. Robin laughs with you, hearty and coarse.

“Yea, yea! I sneakily stuck my foot out when he kept running laps around our counter and—” Robin claps her hands together and you jump at the booming sound. “Right on his face. Kid was crying. I felt bad for a moment but Dingus was turning red trying not to laugh and seeing his stupid face made me laugh. God, it was bad.”

“You two are terrible.” You wipe away a stray tear from your eye.

“No doubt.”

Robin‘s stomach growls suddenly and loudly. You quirk an eyebrow at her and she rubs her stomach a little embarrassed.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize how hungry I was. I had to skip lunch today.”

Despite how tired you feel, you could go for some food. After tonight’s vigorous activities you definitely worked up an appetite. You crawl on top of Robin and straddle her waist. She looks surprised, but doesn’t complain. Her warm hands come to rest on your thighs.

“How about we take a shower, first at foremost, and then we raid your fridge for sustenance after?”

“Yes. Shower. With you. Yes definitely.” Robin replies a little too excited.

“No funny business!”

Robin sits up and cradles you in her arms.

“You should know by now that I am the CEO of funny business.” She winks.

You groan, cringing at Robin’s terrible joke. You grab a pillow and playfully hit her on the side of the head with it. She falls back into the bed, pretending like she just got knocked out, tongue comically sticking out of her mouth. You roll your eyes and get off her, making your way toward her adjoining bathroom.

“Robin if you don’t get in here I’m locking the door!” You shout.

“I can’t. My loving girlfriend just knocked me out cold.”

“Robin!”

“Yep okay fine I’m coming!”

You peak out from the door frame. “You are? But I thought I said no funny business?”

This time it’s Robin’s turn to groan.

[back2bluesidex]

Spotlight - MYG

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi X Reader

Theme: Angst, Pining, Fluff, friends to lovers au.

Word count: 1574

Summary: No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

Warning: Unrequited feelings, sort of insecure reader, pining and that's all. It is SFW. (However, still, I don't want minors to interact with my blog!! So, Minors do not interact!!)

**********************

“How does it feel to always be under the spotlight?” your words are followed by a sigh that escapes your lips without your notice. Your eyes get lost at the darkest corners of the vast concert venue. Do you try to find something glistening in the dark? Or do you just want to rest your eyes away from all the glistening lights that hovers above your head, beside you, before you, oh hell, all around you? You have no idea. 

Actually you do. Deep down you want to avoid his gaze, the gaze that makes you nervous, the gaze that you crave but can’t have. The gaze that makes you feel emotions that are forbidden for you. 

“Depends,” Yoongi replies quietly as he averts his eyes from your figure and follows your line of sight. This time you let your eyes fall on him, sitting just beside you. 

“On what?” you ask again. 

“On your mood. Um.. sometimes how you want to take it, I suppose?” he trails off. 

“It can be calming at times and daunting at others.” he finishes his answer. 

You dwell upon his answer. You don’t know how it is even remotely possible to feel calm under the glaring spotlight while thousands of eyes stay on you solely. You never liked attention and neither do you have the guts to face it. Initially you thought Yoongi was the same. The quiet, pale and mysterious boy from your class that got along with you and only with you, seemed to hate attention, chaos, pandemonium just like you. That was until he left to pursue his dream. That was until he left you behind. That was until you came to realize he was not just your friend. 

Now you know better. Now you know Yoongi is capable of handling everything he hates and transforming those into his power, unlike you. Now you know you and Yoongi are different and that is one of the million reasons why you can’t be together. You can’t be his. 

“Do I look extra handsome today?” Yoongi murmurs and only then you realize you have been staring at him for longer than you should. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah. You look handsome everyday.” you smile at his figure. 

“You don’t see me everyday, Y/N” Yoongi teases. 

“That is because you are a celebrity now, Yoongi. And I am a common civilian.” you reply, trying to hide the underlying hint of angst in your words. 

“But I am still your friend.” He interjects. Your eyes find his pair again.

“And I am grateful for that.” You say shyly. There is no hidden meaning behind this one. You really are grateful for a friend like Yoongi, who went out of his way and found out your number, contacted you after a solid three years of having no ties. You are grateful that he always seemed so keen on having you in one of his concerts, which you never made to, until today. You're grateful that he keeps you on his check, be it a text or a call or a video call once or twice a month, he comes back to you, while the plans of meetups fade behind your useless excuses and his demanding schedule. 

So, this is the first time you are seeing him after he left highschool. This is the first time you are meeting him after being in a sort of long distance friendship. And seeing him feels amazing but it's painful regardless. 

This pain is the reason why you avoided meeting him for so long. You knew the fact that your and Yoongi's worlds are now completely different, would hurt you beyond words once you see it with your own eyes, once you feel it through your own skin rather than the convenient glass barrier of technology. 

But you can't take it anymore. You need to move on from something so unrequited in order to sum up your life. You're already in your thirties and it's the time you start thinking of settling down, with a dog or with a husband, you don't really care. So, you agreed to accept the VIP ticket for the D-Day tour the moment Yoongi approached you. 

For Yoongi, it was probably a chance to see his long lost friend, but for you it was an ending note to a letter you never started writing. 

"You're just as beautiful as I remember… if not more." Yoongi remarks, eyes staying still on yours. You don't dwell on the flush of red that appears on his cheeks, not when you are in the same condition. 

"Haha. Thanks." You laugh it off. 

You un-fold your position, extending your limbs to stretch. Your hands move back to balance the weight of your body as you close your eyes tilting your head back. 

"I mean it. You are so beautiful. You have always been." Yoongi says again. 

You open your eyes and turn your head towards him to gauge his expression. You don't see any hint of a joke. He is serious, rather he has some kind of determination glinting behind his dark eyes. 

"For me, the spotlight has always rested upon you." Yoongi says as he moves his hands in a way that his fingertips are brushing with yours. 

Your world stops for a moment as you try to decipher what he is trying to say. Is it what you think it is or are you just overthinking? 

"On me? What?" You try to laugh it off again.

"For how long will you pretend, Y/N?" He asks, serious and stoic. 

"What do you mean, Yoongi?" You say as you try to get up and head towards the backstage. 

But Yoongi holds your wrist and stops you from getting up. 

"You know what I mean." His voice is quiet but demanding.

"Isn't it the time for your soundcheck or whatever you guys call it?" You try to avoid whatever is happening. 

"Don't change the topic! Don’t avoid it anymore! You have done enough!" His hold in your wrist goes tighter. 

“Yoongi-” 

“No! Listen to me today. I have never said anything when you never once responded to my invitations, when you give baseless excuses to avoid seeing me. But that does not mean it never hurts me, it does not bother me seeing you ignoring my advances, my feelings.” Yoongi cuts you off and says in a breath. 

“Can’t you see, Y/N? Can’t you see that I am in love with you?” he pauses, “You are intelligent enough to find out the reasons why I reached out to you after all those years and why I keep coming back to you. You know it all, Y/N, and yet you choose to avoid me. Is it because I was wrong and you don’t feel the same?” 

Your vision turns blurry and you don’t know what to say. 

“I- I mean-” he cuts you off with his lips this time. His kiss is soft and slow. Neither does he give you any lingering touches nor does he try to probe into your mouth. He only kisses as if he does not want to hear what you have to say. You kiss him back as if to assure him. Holding him by his neck and pulling him close to your embrace, you give in. You kiss him with all the pent up feelings, emotions, fears, everything and everything else. That’s when he understands that you are on the same page as him, he was never wrong, you love him just as much. His kiss now turns passionate as he pulls you towards him and sits you up on his lap. 

You both are panting when you part your lips from each other. A lone strand of hair falls on your eyes, Yoongi reaches for it and places it behind your ears. A simple act, yet so intimate. You are happy… until reality comes rushing back to you. 

“Is.. is this right? Do I even deserve this? Do I deserve you, Yoongi?” You let your fears come out. For the first time in more than a decade, you want to be vocal about your feelings. You want to communicate. 

“I know it is scary, Y/N. Dating an idol is tough and I can’t promise you sunshine and rainbows all the time. but I am ready to work it out and make it right. Our worlds might be different from each other now but I am just the same. I am the same Min Yoongi you approached for help in your music assignment. I am the same Daegu boy that took you to your favourite Tteobokki stall after school hours, I am the same boy you shared your beer with, I am the same person you fell in love with. I have not changed, neither have my love and adoration for you. I believe we can work it out. Let's just give it a try.” Yoongi’s eyes are glassy and full of untold emotions. You know he is unable to say as much as he feels, just like you. So you nod and dive in for a hug. 

“Let’s do it.” you murmur in his neck. As you let your heart win against your mind for the first time. You are ready to fall and break if it means Yoongi will be there with you. Yoongi will be finally yours even for a short span of time. 

*********************

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie

[rottenroyalebooks]

It's a bad idea, right?

Series: The Mortal Instruments

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Possibly OOC Jace, slight description of Reader (mainly that Jace is taller than her), use of Y/N. All characters are aged 18+.

Summary:

Y/N has a Warlock ex that seems to have her under his spell, metaphorically speaking, and every time he calls, she answers.

Jace has had enough of watching her go back to him repeatedly. Because they're friends, definitely not because he's in love with her or anything.

A/N: Guys, I have finally caved into my desires and am diving deep into the world of The Mortal Instruments. I watched most of the show a few years ago and saw the movie a few days ago, which led me to buy a box set of the 6 Mortal Instruments books. I am just about halfway through The City of Bones, so I still have a lot of learning to do. Forgive me if I need to correct something.

Also, I love all the show characters, but Movie Jace feels closer to Book Jace than Show Jace, so I am committed to Movie Jace for visual representation and Movie Jace only.

Does that make sense to you? Yes? Cool.

"You were where last night?" Izzy asked her a bit too loudly as she and Y/N walked into the weapons room where Alec and Jace were working on cleaning their weapons used from the previous mission.

Y/N shushed her as the two boys looked over, "Seriously, whatever happened to private girl talk?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, speaking lower than before so the guys wouldn't hear, "What ever happened to cutting him out of your life? Finding a new guy to get in your bed to get over him, that's why we went to Pandemonium last night, remember?"

Y/N huffed in response. Of course, she knew that's why Izzy and Clary dragged her to Pandemonium. It was a plan that she had yet to be very keen on. Izzy had gone to powder her nose, and Clary went to dance when Demetrius Black approached her on the dance floor, convincing her to leave with him.

It never took much convincing. He never went to Pandemonium, so she thought it was safe, but alas, she woke up in his bed again with her favorite tea made just the way she liked it on the nightstand next to her. He was nowhere to be seen.

Izzy rolled her eyes at the lack of response, "I need to put a tracker on you, like an outdoor cat." She turned on her heels and walked away.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaving the weapons room. She needed to punch something, so she soon found her way to the training room, where a punching bag sat calmly in the middle.

Then she beat the shit out of it.

"Stupid Demetrius and his stupidly charming attitude."

One Two.

"Stupid me for falling for it, again."

One Two Three.

"And stupid Mundane girl who couldn't keep her grimy hands to herself!"

With enough force of one last punch, the bag flew backward, hitting the wall as she let out a long groan of anger.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jace's voice appeared behind her making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Not exactly." He smirked, but she ignored his comment.

"Do you feel the need to scare everyone or just me? Am I that special?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips as she began walking over to the punching bag so she could put it back in its usual location.

"Stop dodging my question. Do you want to talk about why you punched the bag across the room?"

She signed, letting the bag stand back up, "Will you try not to make fun of me for at least ten minutes if I tell you."

He chuckled, leaning against a pillar with his signature smug look, "I'll try my very best."

She couldn't look him in the eye, but she told him everything. From Izzy's plan to it failing when she left her alone for not even five minutes to waking up in her ex's bed again.

His expression was stoic throughout the entire time she was speaking; all of Jace's smugness and ego quickly flushed away as envy flooded his veins.

She didn't notice his change in expression because she refused to look at him.

"I know it's stupid, but it's like he put a spell on me."

"You have a permanent ruin to block any Warlock from using that magic on you."

She groaned, "I meant metaphorically." She plopped down on the bench and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I don't even know what you see in the Warlock-"

"Alec is with Mangus, and you never have anything to say about that, but when I date a Downworlder who has helped us just as much as Mangus has, you suddenly have an issue?"

He didn't have a chance to think before he spoke, blurting out, "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself with someone who doesn't deserve you."

Her head snaps to finally make eye contact; she lets her emotions talk without knowing what to think, "You don't get to decide who deserves me, Jace. You're not my father, and you're not my brother. Don't act like it."

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, "He cheated on you. Remember that? You cried to Clary and Izzy for days about it, then you cried yourself to sleep after all that," He saw the shocked look on her face, "We share a wall, remember? The same wall both of our beds are up against. I heard it all and witnessed you tear yourself apart from all the insecurities he gave you. So yes, I may not be in a position to say it, but I can say for certain that he doesn't deserve you."

The tension between the two shadow hunters was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them said anything else, just stared at each other until she stood up and brushed past him.

"Thanks for the reminder."

Jace only watched as she left the room, wanting to walk after her but feeling paralyzed where he stood. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his feet.

It was his turn to send the punching bag flying across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, the group went on a mission to track down a Vampire, killing humans left and right. Clary had poked around through the different nests in the city with Alec and Izzy, but none of them seemed to be acquainted with the rouge Vampire.

Jace and Y/N were tasked with searching Pandemonium for the Vampire or any information retaining it.

Things between them were still tense, and the others could see it, but Jace had been the one to wordlessly follow her to Pandemonium. The music was loud and beating through her head, making the memories from the night prior resurface, but she shook it off as she looked around for any suspicious Downworld behavior.

She and Jace had split up in the crowd, which meant she was alone when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a text from Demetrius:

Demetrius: I can tell you're working from how you dress tonight, but meet me at the bar. I might have the information you are searching for. ;)

Tensing up, she looks over at the bar seeing Demetrius leaning against it in all his glory, smirking knowingly at her. She pushed her hurt deep down and walked over to him.

"Well, you look lovely tonight, darling." He said, reaching out to touch her hair when she stopped about two feet away, but she smacked his hand away quickly.

"No time for pleasantries, Demetrius. Do you know anything about a Rouge Vampire, or are you wasting my time?"

"Playing hard to get tonight? Let me buy you a drink." He said as he waved to the bartender to get his attention.

She scoffed, shaking her head, "I knew this was a waste of time--" She stopped speaking when she backed into someone's chest; she didn't even need to look up to know it was Jace. She didn't realize he found them.

Jace didn't move at the contact; he only stared at Demetrius, who noticed he was standing there because she had stopped speaking.

"Oh look," he commented, bored, "It's the guard dog. Don't you have anything better to do than following her around like a lost puppy?"

"We're working, Demetrius." She spoke as Jace opened his mouth, cutting him off before a fight could break out, "Since you don't actually have any information for me, I am going to leave."

She brushed past Jace, leaving the two boys at the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

Jace followed her with his eyes until he knew she was out of earshot. Looking back at Demetrius with a glare that could kill a thousand men, he said, "If you come near her again, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you myself."

Demetrius smirked, taking a sip from his drink, "And break The Clave's precious rules? From what she told me, you are one of those who respect the Covenant more than anything."

Jace took two steps forward, standing toe to toe with the Warlock, a look of pure hatred in his eyes, "I would break a thousand rules if it made her happy. I would break a thousand rules to make sure she is safe. Don't test me, Warlock."

Demetrius took another sip of his drink, "I always knew, from the moment I had the displeasure of meeting you, that you were in love with her. I watched as you protected her like a lovesick puppy even though she was head over heels in love with me. Now that she is single, why haven't you swept her off her feet to prevent her from falling into my bed?"

He leaned close to his ear, saying just above a whisper, "Maybe it's because you know she will never love you back."

Jace shoved him away, stalking off to get back to work. Only to watch as she left the storage room and in his direction; as she passed him, she said, "Threat has been neutralized, let's get out of here."

She was annoyed. Mostly at herself for thinking he wouldn't come back to her favorite club to antagonize her, but also at the fact that she had to take on a Vampire by herself because Jace decided to have a little chat with her ex.

At the same time, she was proud of herself for finally avoiding Demetrius' charm like the plague. Progress is Progress.

As she exited Pandemonium, she pulled out her phone and started texting Clary to let them know the Vampire was found and taken care of, but Jace pulled her phone out of her hands.

"I'll take that." He said as he went to her contacts lists.

Her jaw dropped, "Jace! Give that back!" She snapped, watching him smirk at her phone as he tapped the screen a few times before giving it back to her.

"First step, blocking your ex's number."

She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him. Raising her hand, a cab drove up to her almost immediately.

"How do you always get cabs so quickly?" He muttered loud enough for her to hear as he stood behind her protectively.

"It's a gift," she said flatly, getting into the cab and scooting over so Jace could get in, even though she wanted him to get his own taxi.

"You cant just avoid me forever." He said into her ear once she got comfortable after telling the driver where to drop them off.

She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead, "Watch me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jace, let you fight the Vampire by yourself?" Izzy asked her in the kitchen of the Institute, snacking on popcorn with Clary on the opposite side of her as the three girls usually did after a hunt.

"He didn't let me; he was at the bar talking with Demetrius. I thought he followed me into the crowd when I left the bar, but he wasn't behind me when I found the Vampire and pointed it out to him." She ran a hand through her hair and looked down, "I didn't want to lose him, so I followed the Vampire into the storage room, scared off the mundane that was with him, and killed the bloodsucker."

Clary laughed, "And you did it by yourself."

Y/N shrugged, "It was easy because he was a new Vampire who didn't have anyone to guide him."

"What did Jace say when you told him you took care of it?" Izzy tossed another piece of Popcorn into Clary's mouth, and she caught it successfully.

"He didn't react, just followed me out and got rid of Demetrius' contact on my phone."

Clary nearly choked on her popcorn before swallowing it, "He did what?"

Sighing, she nodded, "Yeah, talk about quitting cold turkey."

Izzy giggled, elbowing Clary lightly. "Maybe Jace will finally start courting her."

Y/N raised an eyebrow; Jace was into someone? That was new information, "Courting who? We don't come into contact with many shadow hunters unless he has a secret Mundane lover."

Blinking, Izzy looked from Clary to Y/N and back to Clary, "Is she serious?"

"I think she is."

"Okay, what are you two going on about?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking at the two of them.

"How do we put this nicely-" Clary began speaking, but Izzy cut her off, "Jace has been in love with you since we were thirteen."

Taken aback, all Y/N could do was laugh, "What? No! You guys are crazy. The only person Jace loves is himself." She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Clary spoke up, "When I first learned I was a Shadow Hunter and Jace brought me to the institute, I thought he was cute, but then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought you two were a thing for a whole month until I saw you making out with a mundane near Pandemonium."

"I remember that!" Izzy giggled, turning to Y/N, "Clary freaked out and came running to me saying that you cheated on Jace and that we needed to tell him. It was so funny trying to explain to her that the two of you weren't a thing."

"My point is," Clary interjected, looking at Y/N, "Jace Wayland has been pining over you for so long. He's extra protective of you. When you came home crying a few months ago because the dirtbag cheated on you, Alec had to stop him from hunting him down and killing him without a second thought."

Y/N sank in her chair, blinking, "I had no idea."

"You're just a little oblivious; it's okay," Izzy said, patting her head.

She shook her head, "It's late. I'm going to bed."

She exited the chair and said goodnight to the two girls before leaving the kitchen.

She was going to bed, but then her feet decided to take her to where she knew Jace would be at this time of night.

The garden.

She opened the door quietly, searching for the blond among the flowers and plants, when she spotted him sitting on a bench. He was reading a book that she couldn't read the title of because of how old it was. She walked over to him and placed her hands in her sweater pockets, "You know how to read?"

He looked up at her from his book, "Sneaking up on people is supposed to be my thing."

"You'll have to learn how to share. May I sit?"

He nodded, closing the book with a bookmark between the pages, and moved to one side of the bench to make room for her to sit, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I will be. Thank you for being there for me back at Pandemonium and in the training room earlier today. I needed to hear the truth. Even though my stance on the fact you need to work on your comforting skills stays intact." She teased him lightly, making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with the Vampire alone while I was defending your honor; it won't ever happen again."

"It better not." She chuckled, leaning back and relaxing on the bench, stifling a yawn, "Because I might just have to kill you myself, then."

"As if you would dare lay a mark on my greatest asset." He gestured to his face making Y/N roll her eyes and slapped his hand away.

"That ego of yours is going to be the death of me one day. Do I have to worry about you falling in love with your own reflection and drowning because of it like Narcissus?"

Letting out a laugh, Jace shook his head, looking up at the time on his watch, the very one she had gotten him for his last birthday, "It's getting late. You need rest."

"So do you," she fired back, standing up and glaring at him, "We need you at the top of your game, come on."

He chuckled, standing up and holding the book against his hip as they left the garden together and walked through the Institute.

"Do you need some tea to help you relax?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

He smiled down at her, "No, I can manage."

They approached their rooms silently, he walked her to her door, and she nodded, "Goodnight, Jace."

He watched as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, but he didn't move to his room next door, even though he should have.

No, he thought about how he realized Demetrius' words were true. He loved her and didn't know what to do with this information.

He raised his hand to knock on her door again, wanting to get the rejection over with, but just before his fist could make contact with the wood, the door opened, followed by her voice saying, "Jace, wait." before getting cut off by realizing he was standing there still.

The two stood there wordlessly, staring at each other. No one knew who made the first move that night, but soon Y/N felt his hands cupping her face as their lips touched.

It felt right, kissing Jace; he was gentle yet passionate, as if he were making up for the lost time, which he was. As it turned out, so was she.

When they broke apart for air, nothing could stop their mutual smiles from appearing on their faces as Jace rested his forehead on hers.

"Sleep in my room tonight? We can talk about this in the morning."

He nodded, picking her up over his left shoulder, causing a light squeal to leave her lips as he walked into the room, closing the door with his foot.

[fandomxpreferences]

Never Have I Ever

Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader, Rafe Cameron x female!reader (all over 18)

TW: alcohol, mentions of weed, allusion to a threesome, I think thats all

Summary: One of your darkest secrets is accidentally revealed during an alcohol induced game of Never Have I Ever.

Word Count:1.3k

The air is thick with the stench of beer and weed as the salty wind blows around you. It's dark out; a sky full of twinkling stars and a shining moon casting an almost eerie reflection off the ocean a few feet away. 

It's been a good night, the sound of waves and laughter working wonders to ease your worries. It's a much-needed kegger at the boneyard; finally some peace after nothing but sheer pandemonium. 

There are Pogues, kooks, and tourons littered around the sand; not a single sober human in sight. Even Pope has succumbed to the environment, perhaps a little past tipsy. 

A wide smile overtakes your warm face, the alcohol causing your blood to run hotter than usual and you have a pleasant floating feeling washing over you as John B speaks up. 

"Who wants to play Never Have I Ever?"

It's mostly directed at your small friend group, but his voice is louder than he intended due to his inebriated state and a few kooks and tourons decide to join in. 

It's a decent-sized circle, the seven of you plus a few randoms you don't recognize. Much to your dismay, Rafe and Topper also clamber over and you take a comfortable seat next to JJ. 

Whether he's too drunk to notice or does it to intentionally get under your skin is unclear, but Rafe takes a seat on your other side and his knee brushes yours ever so slightly. 

You ignore the shock of electricity and scoot closer to your best friend, desperate to put some distance between the kook prince and yourself. You're quickly distracted as John B begins explaining the rules, and your attention turns to him. 

"Okay, so we take turns saying things we've never done and if you have then you have to drink."

Everyone nods in understanding and the game begins. The first few rounds are tame, mostly things like 'I've never cheated on a test' and 'Never have I ever skipped class.'

It's enough to get you even more intoxicated seeing as you have to drink for every single one, and you're teetering on the edge of 'dancing on a table' drunk. Damn JJ and his strong drinks. 

Once it gets to your friend group though, things pick up a bit. 

"Never have I ever had sex on someone else's bed."

Your eyes widen as you let out a shocked laugh at Sarah's question, and you timidly bring your cup up to take a swig. 

Your friends all give you looks that are a mixture of surprise, amusement, and pride before the game carries on. 

John B's is specifically tailored for a certain blonde-haired surfer seeing as he made a drunken confession a few months ago. 

"Never have I ever had a threesome." 

JJ groans as John B laughs, and takes a long drink. 

"Fuck you, JB." 

However, what the conniving little shit hadn't expected was for you and Rafe to drink as well. You can see everyone piecing it together as their eyes narrow and they look at each other as if to say 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

You suddenly find your tattered shoelaces to be the most interesting thing in the world as you try to ignore five sets of eyes burning into you and the two men beside you. JJ purses his lips as Rafe smirks and you want the ground to swallow you whole. 

Rafe shifts uncomfortably right as JJ readjusts his backwards ball cap nervously, and it does nothing to quell the speculation.

No way is this happening right now. Everyone is drunk, but not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning. You silently pray that someone else speaks up and takes the heat off you, but the universe laughs in your face as Kie breaks the thick silence. 

"Did the three of you.." 

She trails off but the rest of her lingering question is clear. You stiffen when Rafe pipes up, sure that he's about to out you. 

"Yeah, Kiara. That's exactly what happened, I had a threesome with two Pogues. Do you really believe that?" 

He says it as if it's the most ridiculous thing in the world, which you suppose from the outside looking in, it is. Her head tilts to the side with a frown and she scoffs. 

"Um, yeah actually. I kind of do."

You decide to double down on Rafe's sentiment and roll your eyes. 

"Seriously, you think I would fuck the kook prince? Come on."

It seems to do the trick as the game resumes, but you don't miss the suspicious glances sent your way every few minutes. 

This goes on for another half hour, everyone beyond plastered by the time it switches to truth or dare. 

To no one's surprise, JJ chooses dare and Pope doesn't hold back. 

"I dare you to kiss Y/N."

Had you been even one percent more sober, you would have protested. However, seeing as your judgment is fucked and you've been hooking up with JJ for several months on the down low, the idea doesn't seem too terrible.

He turns to you and smashes his lips against yours with ease, your hands coming up to tug at the hair on the nape of his neck as his tongue slips into your mouth. You momentarily forget you have an audience until you hear someone clear their throat, and leap back. 

"Yeah, sure. You guys totally haven't fucked." John B mutters, and you shoot him a harsh glare. 

It's your turn now and you breathe a sigh of relief when it's Cleo that holds your fate in her hands. 

"Truth or dare?"

You choose truth immediately, not wanting to chance another slip-up. 

"Do you have any scars?" 

You think for a second, trying to sift through your foggy mind before shaking your head. 

"No."

Your desire to prevent any further speculation is thrown out the window when JJ frowns and corrects you. 

"Yes, you do."

It doesn't register right away that he just confessed to seeing more of your body than the rest of the Pogues, and you scowl. 

"Where?"

In a momentary lapse of judgment, Rafe responds instead. 

"On your right ass cheek."

All three of you still, the revelation acting as a cold splash of water. You wait with bated breath, hoping that no one caught it when Sarah gasps. 

"Oh. My. God. You guys totally had a threesome!" 

She's met with three different responses all muddled together as you, Rafe, and JJ scramble. 

"No, we didn't!"

"We did not!" 

"It was one time!"

You visibly deflate as JJ blurts out the words and everyone's faces light up as if they just made the world's greatest discovery. 

Chaos breaks out and you lean back in your chair with a loud sigh. 

"When?!" Kie asks, but you don't get the chance to answer before John B interrupts.

"How did that happen?!"

None of you even attempt to respond as you're attacked with an onslaught of questions, the game long forgotten. You feel a headache setting in and throw your cup into the fire. 

"Fuck this." 

You start towards the cars, and both men follow after you, albeit a few paces behind. 

"Use protection!" Sarah calls and your only retort is a middle finger thrust up into the air. 

You're significantly more sober now, the entire situation practically evaporating the alcohol from your blood. 

You only stop once you reach the Twinkie, and Rafe gives a curt nod before continuing on to his Rover. JJ meets your eyes with a sorrowful gaze, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck with a boyish smile. 

"We are never going to hear the end of this, I hope you know that. "

You attempt to sound scolding, but there's clear amusement lurking just beneath the surface. 

"Well," He begins, taking a purposeful step forward. "If they're going to talk, might as well give them something to talk about."

[nympheaecaea]

୨ৎ where him and i meet ୨ৎ

SUMMARY ୨ৎ park wonbin stumbles upon a magical hotel and meets the girl of his dreams (literally). OR witches, elves, shapeshifters and gods run a hotel.

PAIRING ୨ৎ god!park wonbin x witch!yn

GENRE ୨ৎ fantasy, fluff, slow burn, eventual smut

FANDOM ୨ৎ riize, nct, red velvet

when yn woke up, she tasted it in the air. something was amiss with that day. 

on the weekends, she ought to wake up early. from mondays to fridays she’d sleep until the sun was in the north and the birds were no longer singing, and when she’d get up, the table would’ve been laid and lunch prepared. but on the weekends, yn was asked to eat breakfast before. thus, she woke up early on the first day of the rest of her life. 

the sun was already up, chalky and chilly, yet bright in the wintry morning. yn's home was still, where there should’ve been the pandemonium of timed errands, there was only the void of those who had left. she enjoyed that stillness. rising from bed, she pulled the silky covers and tidied the embroidered pillows–her covers weren’t stretching enough and her pillows weren’t fluffing up enough. if it weren’t for that stillness, sohee, her younger brother, would’ve barged in, plopping himself on the mattress and rolling around on top of her plushies, sungchan would’ve followed, picking the fluffiest ones to punch, withal, she found haechan to be the worst of them, he’d talk and talk and talk. for that, she enjoyed that stillness. yn smoothed her dress and braided her hair–her dress wasn’t fitting as well and her hair wasn’t curling as much.

downstairs, the morning was awakening with the ushered lull of chirping and whispering, the footsteps that scattered and the glassware that clattered. yn joined her housemates at the table–it was a glossy mahogany, so vast it could’ve fitted a village, with a surface strategically covered in breakfast foods: bowls of rice and soup, platters of meat and pancakes, and the herbal tea irene would brew for their spirit. 

“good morning, dearest.” irene, who had been engrossed in her newspaper, greeted the girl. “did you sleep well?” she asked softly, her voice always a solemn whisper. she took a drag of her pipe, the flowery smoke surrounding them. irene was a witch of primeval blood: she dried flowers to put in her pipe and brew in her tea, believing that it would connect her to the land and make her spirit stronger, she had a willowy black cat, who ran errands for her in the human world and read the morning paper, and she liked to hunt. but never animals. 

“like a baby,” yn assured her. before she could return the question, however, seulgi pushed through the swinging doors with her hip, her steps careful and eyebrows furrowed with all the concentration she had to not spill the plate and cup she carried. “there,” she sighed, as she settled both in front of yn. “a full english breakfast with freshly processed apple juice.” she smiled charmingly, her cheeks rising with a tangerine glow. “and!” she started adding, “i made it from scratch, no sorcery, at all!” seulgi finished, bouncing slightly on her feet with excitement. 

haechan, who had been silent–a blessing that yn had come to find only happened when he ate–, scoffed at that. seulgi could glide so lightly on her feet, she wouldn’t leave footsteps on snow, and she was a powerful fighter, but, oh, so graceful, it was as if she was dancing with her opponents. yet, she channeled her spirit as a newborn deer walking on its wobbly legs; sparks, blasts, and domestic fires. irene was the one to care for her, calmly dabbing a hand enchanted by runes over the flames and giving her a drag of her pipe. she was also the one to glare at the boys when they snarked, shutting haechan before he could even interject. 

yn gathered the different ingredients of her breakfast plate in a bite, and even as she chewed the rushes of flavour, she could not stop tasting the wrongfulness of the day. she decided to ask, even if she feared the answer: “say, auntie, where is uncle taeil?” she had noticed the moment she went down the stairs, taeil had not been there with his gigantic crochet sweaters and his freckled cheeks rising with his blinding smiles to greet her. 

irene took a sharp breath and put down her pipe. “left this morning,” she only said, knowing that yn would understand. “didn’t even say goodbye, that sappy bastard…” she rolled the dampness off her eyes and raised her pipe back to her cherry red lips. 

taeil’s departure would be the beginning. 

yn knew his day would eventually come, as it would irene’s, as it would hers and as it had her mother’s. just the same, she wasn’t prepared for it. 

all magical beings were called into the draft. eventually, a pigeon would deliver a letter, an apparition would come in dreams, a knight would ride to the door knocker, and eventually, they’d be sent away. yn hadn’t always feared the draft, dreaded it, perhaps, but not feared. the day a cat had squished through her window, a small package in its mouth that demanded her mother, as if she were nothing more than a weapon, had fulminated the fear. her mother never came back then, even when she sat at the table eating dinner, she was still gone. 

on monday a tiny little imp had waddled through the temple, irene swinging an elven axe in her hand at the sight of it, and taeil understood his turn had come. it had lingered in the air then, the loathing that taeil had tried to hide, but they could see. the way his smile was tightlipped, that of longing, the way his eyes were watery, those of regret. it was in the air, how he’d dance with sungchan and sing with haechan till late, so late, irene would tell the youngsters to go to bed, only to join taeil after, the way he’d ruffle sohee’s chocolate hairs and bake him cookies, or the way he’d stay in the silence with yn, just them in their own warm summery bubble, napping like cats stretched in the sun. they’d miss him, they’d miss him a lot. because, even if he came back, he’d never be the same. 

“they’re back,” irene said, the darkness of her locks swinging as she turned to the door that led to their backyard. those opened in no second, and through them johnny and sungchan walked in, both covered in a thin coat of sweat and a blush from the gelid air. “good morning boys, how was the run?” she asked them. 

“wondrous!” sungchan replied excitedly, “the weather is lovely, and the streets were so empty, i could shift into anything!” he declared, taking a seat next to yn and nudging a piece of her fried egg to himself. 

johnny nodded through the younger’s words, busying himself with filling a tall cup of dark coffee. “hey,” he started, and oh no… “why did the morning coffee never talk to the herbal drinks?” he asked into the silence that had reached the room, “because they weren’t his cup of tea!” he finished with a cackle. 

like irene, her aunt, yn was a witch of primeval blood. she had lived the beginning of her life by a river. there, she spent her noons learning and reading, entertained by the wandering spirits; the naiads, who would braid her hair and sing about the wonders of corporeal warmth, the kirin who would come to her window to watch her play the violin until her jaw was bruised, the pixies who would bring her flower crowns that would tangle against her mahogany curls, and when the moon would rise in the sky painted by veils of green and purple lights, her mother would come with baskets of the “outside”. she had always known there was another world out there, one with a roaring of engines and clocks, but she had preferred the world of her own creation, her, her mother, her aunts and, sometimes, a nice man that would bring her dolls. 

and then, the cat came. 

not a month later, she had left her small, sweet world behind. yn had followed baechu, irene’s familiar, carrying a violin case in her back and a luggage from the outside with her essentials: books so chunky she had to sit on the case to close it, gowns and bows sewed from the softest of the silks, and gifts from her unearthly friends. they had rushed through the train station, the small girl garnering looks from the passersby, old ladies who asked her questions and young boys who wanted to hold her braid. she had, of course, cried through it all. the engines and the clocks and the people and the tick tock tick tock and the click clack click clack. 

so, like irene, she came from a long line of primeval witches, and she still didn’t understand things like morning runs or johnny’s jokes. 

“it’s almost time to open up,” seulgi said looking at the watch on her wrist. “what is the schedule for today?” her eyes settled on sohee, who instantly opened a heavy book and pointed. 

the younger boy, opposed to the boyishness his features still carried, was in charge. “we’re starting to get busier with the spring equinox coming, but there is not much to do today. i think we can have the day off.” he announced, finishing with a docile smile.

“and, hopefully, we’ll have somebody new come in before the spring equinox begins.” irene said, standing from her seat and smoothing her inky skirt that covered her to her feet. irene liked long, dark clothes, the sort of clothes that made kids point at her and say ‘mommy, look, witch!’. seulgi joined her, a contrast of darkness and colourfulness, whereas irene was elegant and dainty, seulgi was fresh and boyish, with youthful freckles and mandarin hair that sat at the top of her head showing her pointed ears with gold assets. 

“it’s time.” sohee told them, eyes on the watch. 

when the clock striked 10a.m, the temple opened. 

coming soon...

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

The Princess And the Duke | Chapter 10: Pandemonium

Summary: Things go from bad, to worse, to utter pandemonium Word Count: 7k Warnings: strained family relationships, abusive parent, threats of physical harm, abuse, mild violence, language, strained friendships, violence, gun violence, stalking, pining, angst. Author's Notes: We're almost at the end! There will be an epilogue (or 6?) after the final chapter is done, but the journey is reaching it's end friends. Two more chapters to go, will The Princess and The Duke get their happily ever after? Co-written by the marvellous @angelofsmalldeath-codeine Follow @vi-notifs and consider buying me a coffee if you enjoy my work! AO3

Main Masterlist

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The smell of coffee lures you awake. You open your eyes to find the light from your windows muted by a sheet over your face. You frown, still weary with sleep as you try and gain your bearings.

The sound of your cupboards opening and closing beyond your bedroom door makes you freeze, there’s someone in your apartment. The sound of someone humming a tune carries through the door and it hits you.

Dave.

You wrestle yourself out of your sheets and check your phone, it’s almost ten in the morning and you rub your jaw as you check through your messages. Multiple missed calls from both Pete and Ash, your group chat has been renamed a few times, ranging from “Bitch, are you alive?” to “Please contact us, babe.”. You scroll through the messages before typing a response.

You: I’m fine, Nancy’s in jail. I’m safe, Dave slept on the couch cuz the door’s busted. Don’t say a word, Pete. I’ll keep you posted. Please don’t come over, I need space. I mean it.

You watch as both of them start to type, the little bubble appearing next to both of their names. You throw the phone onto the bed before heading to the bathroom. You shower and get dressed; you hold Dave’s hoodie in your hands for a moment. It still smells like him, at least you think it does. You decide against it, you stuff it under your comforter before pulling on a plain black one instead.

“Dave?” You call through the door as you hover over the doorknob.

“In the kitchen,” Dave calls back through the apartment and your heart twists at the sound of his voice, at the thought of him making you coffee in your kitchen.

Before you can lose yourself to the fantasy of domesticity with Dave, you break the spell. You pull the door open and it’s worse, so much worse. He’s there, hair dishevelled as he stands with his back to you. His dress shirt is creased, sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he works the coffee machine. His tight slacks hug his pert ass too well and you want nothing more than to walk up and wrap yourself around him from behind.

“Morning,” you say meekly as you remember how he stopped you from taking things further last night. You want to tell yourself it wasn’t a true rejection, you felt it in the way he kissed back, you want to believe that he was as desperate as you. But the moment he turns to look at you, your heart shatters.

“Morning,” he responds, his voice low as he glances at you for a second over his shoulder before turning back to the coffee machine.

“You don’t have to stick around,” you say as you linger in the doorway, “I can handle the maintenance guy, it’s fine.”

“I promised I’d stay and help,” Dave says as he turns around, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

“I don’t want to keep you, I’ll be fine,” you say a little firmer this time, you can feel the grief welling up in you as he looks at you. His expression is cold, so neutral it can’t be anything but a practiced mask.

“If you’re not comfortable with me being here, I can go,” Dave says as you notice his jaw tick to the side a little, “I’ve already called the security firm and their guy is on the way.”

“That would probably be for the best,” you say as your voice breaks, “Thank you.”

“If you need anything, just call,” Dave says as his mask slips, his shoulders sag and he looks at you, dark eyes betraying the sadness behind the mask.

“I will,” you confirm as you force a smile, you want to say more but you know if you do you’ll probably cry.

Dave nods curtly before placing your coffee mug on the counter, he drains his own with a grimace. It’s clearly too hot to have done that comfortably. He lingers for a moment before striding over to the door. He has to force it open; the doorframe so badly damaged it really did have to be jammed shut last night. He pauses, looking as if he wants to say something else, but ultimately decides against it, flashing you a sad smile before disappearing into the hallway.

You pick the mug up from the counter, taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid before retrieving your phone from the bedroom along with your laptop. You settle down against the armrest of the loveseat before emailing the Bar admissions office.

It’s going to be a long day of explanations, citing police reports, and endless email chains to get your application back on track.

~*~

Dave lets out a frustrated sigh as he sits back in his desk chair, glaring at Resnik as the smaller man seems to shrink away from Dave’s scathing gaze. It’s Friday morning, two days since Nancy decided to break into your apartment. Two days since he’s heard from his subordinate that should have been checking in at hourly intervals.

Furious doesn’t come close to describing what Dave is feeling right now.  

“So,” Dave says calmly, “Do you want to explain yourself?”

“I was just getting some more pictures, you know, surveillance and all that,” Resnik splutters as his beady eyes flit to the blinking light of the card reader attached to Dave’s PC.

“Surveillance?” Dave repeats as he turns one of his monitors around aggressively to face his subordinate, “What were you surveilling here, Resnik? Huh?”

Resnik squirms as he’s forced to look at the pin-sharp image of you bending over in yoga pants. It’s from the start of your run with Pete yesterday, there’s no mistaking what Resnik’s lens was trained on.

“I fucked up, boss,” Resnik says as he aggressively scrapes his fingers against his chin, unable to offer any other excuse than that.

“Fucking pathetic,” Dave snarls as he turns the monitor back around, “You’re off the PI job, Ari’s taking over, get out of my sight.”

“But-,” Resnik starts to protest but Dave shoots him a look, his dark eyes flashing with rage like nothing Resnik has ever seen. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before scurrying out of the office.

Dave pinches the bridge of his nose as he counts back from twenty in his head. The stress of the target, of Nancy’s freshly served divorce papers on his desk, and your safety is wearing him thin. The only thing keeping him sane is the knowledge that you’re safe, for now.

He picks up his cell phone and dials Kovac’s number, it rings twice before Kovac’s gruff voice sounds in his ear.

“Maintenance guy just left, fucker wouldn’t paint the new doorframe,” Kovac grumbles without so much as a word of greeting. Dave likes that about Kovac, no bullshit.

“Noted, I’ll sort something out,” Dave says, hoping he can smooth things over with you soon, “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Yes, boss,” Kovac says flatly before ending the call.

Dave spends the next few hours looking over the CCTV footage from the chase. Scrubbing back through minute by minute as he tries to find where the target slipped away. He’s been reviewing the footage obsessively. Practically not moving from his chair and barely eating. He tells himself it’s just the job, but he knows some of it has to do with you. The way you looked when he rejected you is burned into his brain. It haunts him to know he hurt you, even if he knows it was the right thing to do.

His stomach gurgles, snapping him out of his thought spiral and he sighs. Having skipped breakfast and now, lunch it seems, Dave is ravenous. He’s about to give up and get something from the break room vending machine when he sees it. Something he hadn’t caught before.

The flash of police cars in the background of one of the final moments of footage before they lost the target. Something worries at the back of Dave’s mind as he brings up a map of the area on his other monitor.

“Son of a bitch,” Dave curses as he brings up the CCTV footage from outside your building. He watches in horror as a lone figure makes his way into the frame. The dark-haired man lingers at the edge of the taped off crime scene, Nancy is being hauled out unconscious as the target lifts his head up and looks directly into the lens of the camera.

Dave scrambles to pick up his phone, desperately trying to get through to you, but each time it goes to voicemail.

“Fuck!” He roars into the empty room as he throws his phone down.

He has to calm down, there’s no guarantee the target was there for you. It has to be a coincidence, there’s no way there’s a target on your back. He settles back into his chair, hunger forgotten as bile rises in his throat. He continues to watch the recording, hoping beyond hope that the target moves on when Nancy is carted off.

The police car leaves the scene and Dave’s jaw goes tense as he watches the next thirty minutes play out. He watches as he arrives at the apartment, the target stays exactly where he has been the whole recording. Waiting.

To Dave’s dismay, it’s only when he watches the recording of him escorting you out and away from the scene that the target leaves. There’s no mistaking it now.

You’re in danger.

~*~

The small hole-in-the-wall establishment is quiet as you drum your fingers on the top of the lacquered bar. You scroll through your phone as you wait for Ash and Pete to arrive. You’re already regretting the decision to call Ash. It’s too soon, you’re too angry with them both. You tip back the last of your whiskey as you check your phone for any new messages. Nothing.

The last two days have dragged, you’ve barely left your bed. The moment the security guy had left, you’d locked up and shut down all your devices. Between crying and sleeping far too much, you made the decision to meet with Ash and Pete.

You’re about to leave when you notice a fresh drink being placed in front of you. You look up to the bartender who points to the other end of the bar.

“Gentleman insisted,” he says with a smile before being called over by another patron.

You turn to look at your admirer and you smile politely at the man. He’s a little older than you, around Dave’s age if you had to guess. He’s well dressed in tight black slacks and a loose fit white shirt. His buttons are undone to expose the cleft of his pecs, there’s a smattering of dark hair there that makes your stomach flutter. He has a kind face, dark green eyes that sparkle in the low light of the bar. His dark hair is short and parted to the side.

“Thanks,” you say with a kind smile, “But I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

The man smiles wider at this, nodding knowingly.

“Smart, I don’t blame you,” he says with a dazzling smile, “You just looked like you needed a pick-me-up.”

“That obvious, huh?” You say with a grimace as you turn on your stool to face him.

“Not obvious per se,” he says as he takes a sip from his drink, “But I had a hunch, what with you being here all alone. Mind if I join you?”

“Not alone, just painfully early for friends who are notoriously late,” you say with a snort as you hail the bartender.

“Sounds like you need better friends,” he says with a raised brow as takes a seat next to you, “Making a gorgeous woman like you wait seems like a crime.”

“You flatter me,” you say as you feel the praise prickle pleasantly under your skin, “But they’re good people.”

The conversation lulls but you can feel the stranger’s eyes on you as you scroll through your phone. You’re browsing reels on Instagram when you feel a pair of arms grab you from behind. You panic, shoving back as you practically catapult yourself off the stool. You scramble to your feet and back away from the bar with wild eyes. You’re ready to swing at your assailant, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“What the fuck?” Ash’s familiar voice snaps you out of your haze. You look up to see Ash and Pete looking at you in horror.

“Jesus, Ash!” you say with a heavy sigh of relief, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

You notice the smirk on the stranger’s face as you scold your friends. There’s something else simmering under the surface there, but you’re not paying attention to him anymore. You’re smoothing down your pants as you look at your friends.

“You, ok?” Ash asks as she looks you up and down, no doubt she can see the way your shoulders slump and your eyes are glassy and bloodshot. Pete gives you a sheepish smile.

“Not really, come on, let’s get a table,” you say as you gesture further into the bar. As you turn, you hear the sound of a phone camera shuttering, but you dismiss it.

The three of you sit down in a booth, Pete and Ash taking their place opposite you. If it hadn’t already felt like an intervention, it does now. A waitress comes over and takes your drinks order before leaving the three of you alone once more.

“I see you’re really leaning into the sugar daddy angle,” Pete remarks as you take your seat, nodding towards the guy at the bar. Your jaw ticks to the side as you ignore him, Ash shoots him a look and you feel a little less tense seeing her on your side.

“Thanks for meeting with us,” Ash says, “How are you doing?”

“Not bad considering my mother broke into my apartment and threatened me with a hammer, whilst demanding I admit I was fucking Dave,” you say with a shrug, too tired to beat around the bush.

“She did what?” Ash asks incredulously, “Why didn’t you call us?”

“Because after Wednesday I wasn’t sure I’d get the support I needed, let alone that you’d take my side on it. Somehow it would have to be my fault, right?” You say, the venom dripping from your tongue, and you look at them both in turn.

“You know we wouldn’t have pinned that on you,” Ash pleads but you shake your head slowly at her.

“Do I? The last few weeks have me questioning everything, Ash,” you sigh as you see your phone screen light up. You grit your teeth as you see it’s a message from Dave. Pete’s eyes flick to the screen and you’re grateful for the nickname attached to Dave’s contact.

“That’s not fair, we’re just worried about you,” Ash argues but you turn your gaze to Pete.

“Is that what Wednesday was, Pete? Concern? Because it seemed like it was all about judging me, not being concerned about my wellbeing.”

“I was concerned, the man was able to track you down on our night out. Ash told me he kept hounding you even after she took you home after that too.”

“He wasn’t hounding me,” you say as the hair on the back of your neck stands up, “He texted me once to make sure I was ok.”

“He’s creepy, babe, he’s your goddamn stepdad, and you are fucking him,” Pete says with a scowl, and you notice Ash flinch next to him. 

Your blood runs cold as you realise Ash has been talking to Pete about everything behind your back. You wonder how much she’s told him. It makes you feel sick, for all Pete’s judgement and scorn, you have always been able to confide in Ash. Or so you thought.

“You told him?” You look to Ash, your heart breaking for what feels like the hundredth time this week, “Ash, I told you about that in confidence, next you’re going to reveal you gave Nancy my address,” you scoff, but the look of shame on Ash’s face gives you pause, “You didn’t? Did you?”

“Of course not!” Ash blurts as her eyes go wide, “I only talked to Pete because I was worried about you, I’d never do that to you.” Ash says as she holds her hands up in a show of surrender.

“And yet you told Pete, behind my back,” you retort, the hum of adrenaline in your veins makes you twitchy as you look to Pete. He physically shrinks back as he meets your gaze.

“Is this why you went so hard at me on Wednesday? What gave you the right to ambush me like that?” You ask incredulously.

“You’re not known for making good choices with men, hun,” Pete argues meekly, and you have to bite your tongue, “I was just trying to make you see how fucked up this is.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Pete,” you scoff as you shake your head, “I’m not the one proposing to a guy that ‘drives me crazy’,” you emphasise the phrase with air quotes, “Because he doesn’t answer your every obsessive text and call. Can you not see the irony there?”

Pete opens and closes his mouth a few times before scowling at you. Ash is looking at her hands, her shoulders slumped, and you almost feel bad for her. Almost.

“So, which one of you decided to go full-Nancy and pull this intervention type stunt, huh?”

“That’s not what this is-,” Ash starts, her eyes wet with tears as she looks at you.

“Then what is it? Tell me, because I certainly don’t see it as anything else.”

You sit there for a moment, desperately trying to process everything as neither of them come up with an answer for you. You see your phone light up again and you snatch it up before standing. Something is wrong if Dave is messaging you now, there’s no other reason for him to break his promise to give you space. You’re once again reminded that Dave seems to be the only who never violates your boundaries.

“Where are you going?” Ash asks as her eyes plead with you.

“To the bathroom,” you snap as you meet her gaze with a stern look, “Is that ok? Or do I need your permission to pee?”

She shakes her head, looking down as the drinks arrive and the waitress obscures you from them both. You stride towards the bathroom and pull out your phone, ducking into a stall and locking it behind you.

Your eyes go wide as you see multiple missed calls from Dave, accompanied with a string of texts that make your blood run cold.

Duke 🎷: Get out.

Duke 🎷: Please, get out of there.

Duke 🎷: * Duke 🎷* sent a photo.

You open up the attachment and you see the back of your head as you walk over to Ash and Pete at the booth. There’s a banner caption on the bottom half of the image that makes your blood run cold.

“She’s beautiful, shame if anything would happen to her.”

You clap your hand over your mouth to stifle a cry as you realise the man at the bar had taken a photo of you. You slump back against the stall as you try and collect yourself. Your phone rings once more and you answer without hesitation.

“Dave?” You whisper, your voice faltering as you fight the urge to cry.

“Are you ok? Has he hurt you?” Dave’s voice is frantic on the other end of the call, which only makes your heart beat faster; it only cements the fact that you’re in serious danger.

“No, he tried to buy me a drink, I didn’t take it,” you say as you clutch the phone tightly in your hand, desperately trying to stay calm.

“I think you understand who that is right? Yes or no answers only, we can’t trust the line with specifics, ok?”

“Ok. Yes, I do, I understand who he is.”

“I need you to slip out the back,” Dave’s voice has lowered, adopting a calmer tone as he takes you through the next steps, “I’m in a silver sedan one street over, don’t run, but I need to get you out of there now. Do you understand?”

You nod, forgetting for a moment that Dave can’t see you.

“Hey?” Dave says your name and it’s like a slap to the face.  

The name jolts you back to the present and the sound of the bar outside the bathroom fills your ears as you take a steadying breath. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you force yourself to focus.

“I’m here, I’m on my way,” Your voice is more level than you expected, and you slowly make your way out of the stall, “Stay on the line?” You ask as you slip towards the back door of the bar.

“Of course, I’m here.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the bar as you walk backwards out of the bar, you feel the push bar of the back door on your palm as you hold the phone to your ear with your other hand. You hear Dave hiss on the other line as you watch the stranger chuckle to himself at the bar.

“What?” You ask, morbidly curious to what the stranger had clearly sent to Dave.

“He’s sent me another photo of you, just get out of there, ok?”

You lean back slowly, depressing the bar as gently as possible, there’s a small voice in the back of your mind hoping the door isn’t alarmed. The soft clunk of the door opening luckily isn’t loud enough to reach the bar, but the moment you’re across the threshold a siren sounds loud in the street behind you.

The stranger’s eyes flick up at the sudden sound and his glowers at you as he immediately launches himself in your direction. You slam the door behind you, heart in your throat as you try and remember where Dave said he was.

“Dave, where are you? He caught me leaving, he’s coming.”

“Turn right out of the alley, I’m waiting on the street. Go!” Dave barks as you hear an engine roar to life.

You break into a sprint, thanking your foresight to choose flats instead of heels tonight. You her the slam of the door crashing into the alley wall behind you, but you don’t turn back. You hear an angry shout behind you, and you almost pitch forward onto your face as you hear the gunshot that follows, so close behind you.

“Are you ok? Where are you?” Dave’s voice is frantic in your ear as you break out onto the street.

“I’m ok. I see the car,” you pant as you charge towards the silver sedan idling at the curb. You yank the door open, checking at the last moment that it is actually Dave in the car. His dark eyes are blazing with emotion as he checks you over briefly before driving off.

“I heard the gunshot, were you hit?” Dave asks as he focuses on the road ahead, eyes flicking back and forth as he scans for any apparent danger.

“I don’t think so,” you say with a shaky breath as you tentatively scan your body, hands drifting over your torso as you confirm, “I’m ok.”

“Good,” Dave says with a grunt as he cuts off a semi-truck. His shoulders are tense as he drives, his jaw is tight, and his knuckles are white from exertion from gripping the wheel so hard.

You slump back into your seat, your body buzzing with unspent energy as the adrenaline high courses through you. You sit in silence for a while as you watch Dave wind through the streets of Austin. You realise too late that he’s already overshot your apartment building by a few blocks. You’re heading out of town.

“I didn’t know you were in the bar,” Dave says through clenched teeth as he pulls the car into a parking garage a few blocks over from your place, “Not until he sent the photo.”

You furrow your brow, trying to understand what he means.

“Dave, what are you-?”

“I wasn’t following you, I wanted to give you space. I’m sorry but he forced my hand,” Dave turns to you with anguish behind his dark eyes.

It’s only then your brain catches up through the fog of adrenaline and fear. You remember that you pushed him away, needed him to give you space after he rejected you.

“I understand,” you say as you look away, the bitter sting of rejection burning under your skin once more as you replay the way he stopped your advances.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you realise you’re on the I35 out of Austin.

“Your apartment isn’t safe, the only place I can keep you safe is back home,” Dave says, and you can hear the agitation in his voice. You’ve never seen Dave like this, he’s so utterly unflappable, but now, it’s painful to see him so panicked.

“Home,” you nod, gathering yourself for a moment before slumping back down in the seat. The word rolls around your mind like a marble, rattling around as you try and gather your thoughts.

Neither of you say another word until you’re pulling up into a hauntingly similar parody of the day Dave brought you home from the airport all those months ago. An empty garage, no cherry red Escalade, but no red mustang either. It’s eerie.

Dave hovers at your elbow, head on a swivel, as he closes the garage door. He guides you down into the basement, hovering behind you, but not quite touching you as you descend the steps. The moment your feet hit the bottom step, it’s like a switch flips.

Tears come unbidden as you feel your knees go weak. You hear the sound of Dave arming a security system in the background as you feel the floor shift from under you. You fall to your knees and sob, your chest constricting in waves as you let out the frustrations of the last few months.

You hear the heavy thud of Dave’s knees hitting the floor next to you, followed by a barely concealed hiss.

“Hey,” his voice is low, soothing as you feel him hovering next to you, but he doesn’t touch you, he keeps his distance as you sob, “I’m here.”

But you don’t want him to keep his distance, you’re tired of the distance between you. You look up with bleary eyes and it takes you less than a second to close the gap between your bodies. You wrap your arms around him, awkwardly clinging to his kneeling form as you cry into his shirt.

“I hate you,” you sob, “I fucking hate you.”

Dave stiffens beneath you for a moment before wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you tight against him as you choke through your anger.

“Do you know what it’s like, Dave? To be so sure of something that it physically hurts when you can’t do anything about it?” You ask, it’s rhetorical, and he knows it, so he only holds you tighter.

“I did everything right. I kept my distance, I tried to forget about you, forget about us, but I can’t Dave.”

“I know,” he whispers and something about his admission – his honesty – breaks something inside you.

“I can’t keep doing this, Dave,” you say as you pull back enough to look up into his eyes, they shine with tears as they regard you with something akin to remorse, “I can’t keep loving you if it means that all I do is hurt.”

“I know,” he repeats, a single tear tracking down his face as he tries to blink them away.

“I wish I had stayed in New York,” you snap, it’s cold and you don’t really mean it, but there’s a grain of truth to it, “I would have been miserable, but I wouldn’t have this hole in my chest. I wouldn’t have fallen so hard for someone I can never have.”

Dave doesn’t say anything to that, tears falling freely now as he bows his head.

“Did I ever actually mean anything to you? Beyond being collateral damage and sex?” You ask, it’s an unfair question but nothing about this is fair anymore. It’s never been fair to you.

“Of course, you did, you still do,” Dave says solemnly as he meets your gaze, “I love you.”

It’s like time stands still as you look up into his eyes, they glitter with more tears as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek. You lean in without hesitation as you search his face for any hint of deception.

“You mean that?” You say, voice barely more than a whisper as you plead with whatever deity that is listening that this isn’t some sick joke.

“I’ve loved you for some time,” Dave says with a sad smile, “I can’t keep pretending I don’t, it’s killing me.”

“It’s been killing me too,” you say as you place your hand over Dave’s holding his hand against your cheek, “But why tell me now? What changed?”

“You mean the hitman coming after you notwithstanding?” Dave allows himself to laugh bitterly at that and you can’t help but smile, “Nancy filed for divorce from prison, got her lawyer to serve me papers this morning.”

“You’re joking?” You laugh, a genuine, throaty bark of a sound as you shake your head, “She really thinks she’s got it all figured out, doesn’t she?”

“Hubris, thy name is Nancy,” Dave says with a sigh, “Once this is all over, once the threat on your life has been neutralised, we will have time to talk this over, talk about us, about what you want.”

“I want you,” you say without hesitation and the way Dave’s lips curve up makes your heart clench, “I will always want you.”

“I want to hold you to that,” Dave says as he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours once more, the contact makes you shudder, “But we can’t rush this, you can’t rush this. Once we’re on the other side of this, and once the divorce is finalised, we can do this right.”

“Ok,” you say, disappointment poisoning the moment just enough to make you focus on the danger at hand, “But I mean it, Dave,” you say as you pull back to look up into his eyes once more, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, and you see the flicker of emotion in his eyes, the way they dart to your lips for a brief moment.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, preparing yourself for rejection, but it doesn’t come.

Dave leans down, his lips slotting over yours as his hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head. You sigh as you melt into the kiss. You fist the collar of Dave’s shirt as you lean into him.

It’s different from the other night, his lips pull gently at your own as you feel the stirring of something more than lust or desire in your chest. You stifle a soft whine as he pulls your bottom lip between his own. Heat flares in your core as you savour the heat of his mouth on yours.

You pull back, fire coursing under your skin as you look up into the warmth of Dave’s gaze. You’re both smiling, Dave’s cheeks are dimpling, and you lean forward to kiss him again.

The sound of the doorbell jolts you both out of the moment and you look at Dave with wide eyes.

“It’s ok, it’s Kovac, one of my trusted colleagues, and friends. He’s here to look after you for a while,” Dave explains, a blush creeping over his face as he realises, he didn’t fill you in on the plan.

“How long is a while?”

“A few days,” Dave says as he places his hands over yours as they cling to his shirt, “A week at most, I promise.”

“You’re going to kill him, the guy from the bar. Aren’t you?” The question slips from your lips effortlessly, you’re not naïve. You’ve noticed the absence of police presence; the way Dave hasn’t so much as called anything in since you left the bar. None of it was above board, you just know it.

“Yes,” he says, his face hardening a little as he meets your gaze, “This isn’t something that will go away if he’s put behind bars.”

“Then finish it.”

Dave’s eyes go wide at the conviction in your voice, but whatever he’s about to say in response is cut off by the furious buzzing of his cell in his pocket. He answers it with a snarl.

“Kovac, I’m coming, let yourself in,” he barks down the phone before ending the call.

Silently he eases himself onto his feet, a groan escapes him as one of his knees makes a nauseating pop. He holds his hand out to you, and you take it, letting him pull you up onto your feet.

“You have to stay down here, no matter what, ok?” Dave says as he looks over his shoulder at the basement stairs.

“What about-,” you begin to protest, you’ve got nothing of value on you, no laptop, no clothes.

“Ari, one of my other guys,” Dave interrupts, “Has a go bag for you, he’ll drop it off with your laptop and other essentials later this afternoon. Take anything you need from my drawers, use the bathroom, whatever you need, it’s yours.”

You bristle a little at the way you feel like you’re being handled, but you realise that’s exactly what’s happening. You’re an asset to be protected, there’s a very real danger out there wishing you harm.

“I’ll check in regularly, and Kovac will do anything for you, I mean it. I trust most of my men with my own life, but I wouldn’t trust anyone but Kovac to protect you.”

“Fine,” you say, trying to quash the petulance bubbling beneath the surface, “But Dave?”

“What?”

“Come back to me.”

It’s not a request, he knows it too well, but he pulls you against his chest, holding you tight.

“Nothing on this earth will stop me coming back to you,” he breathes as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say as you bury your face in his chest before reluctantly easing out of his embrace as you hear heavy footsteps on the stairs. You look up to see the same hulking man who fitted your security alarm.

“Dave, that’s-?”

“I told you,” he says with a sly smile, “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep you safe.”

You look to Kovac, and he shrugs, his face set in a smug smile as he and Dave give each other a nod of acknowledgment. Your heart flutters at the interaction, a weight lifting from your shoulders as you realise the extent of Dave’s commitment to keeping you safe.

~*~

A few hours later, Kovac answers the door as you’re sat on the L-shaped sofa in the basement. A rerun of ‘Parks and Rec’ is playing on the TV but you’re not really watching, until Duke Silver appears on screen, and you can’t help but smile.

There’s a poisoned irony at the way your group chat with Ash and Pete keeps blowing up, asking you if you’d gone home with the DILF at the bar. But you’re too dazed to care, you’ve muted the chat now, instead staring into the middle distance as you try and bring yourself back to the present.  

“Hey,” Kovac’s low rumble startles you as he rounds the sofa with a duffel bag on one arm, a plastic bag filled with takeout containers in his other hand, “Ari brought your laptop and some other stuff, Dave ordered takeout and some beer.”

“Thanks,” you say with a weak smile, “I’ll sort the bag later, just dump it on the sofa.”

“Sure,” Kovac does as he’s told, dropping the bag gently on the sofa cushion before setting the plastic bag on the coffee table. He goes to leave straight away, and you stop him.

“There’s way too much food here. Do you want to join me?”

Kovac hesitates for a moment before shrugging and taking a seat on the floor opposite you. You smirk at the gesture but don’t say anything as you start to unbox the food and Kovac pops a beer and offers it to you. The two of you eat in silence for some time.

“So, you and Dave,” you say, curiosity getting the better of you, “How’d you two meet?”

Kovac chews slowly for a moment, as if contemplating how much he can actually say.

“Marines,” he says as he takes a swig of beer, “Served with him from start to finish, good man.”

“He is,” you say absently as you watch the credits roll for the episode and you immediately skip to the next one, “Thanks for staying and eating with me,” you say as you drain the last of your beer, “I appreciate it.”

Kovac shrugs and continues eating without missing a beat as he eyes you up and down.

“It won’t be long before you’re out of here,” he says as he gestures around the basement with his free hand, “Dave doesn’t fuck around when it comes to people he cares about.”

The statement, no matter how crude, has your chest constricting with joy. Of course, you want to believe that Dave cares about you – that he loves you – but to hear it from Kovac is vindicating. It makes everything feel a little more real.

“I don’t doubt it,” you say as neutrally as possible as your lips curve up into a smile.

You sit in silence for the rest of the meal until Kovac excuses himself, taking the dirty dishes and takeaway containers upstairs. He refuses to let you help, assuring you it’s safer if you stay in the basement.

You’re suddenly very tired, the events of the day catching up to you finally. You give your armpits a tentative sniff and grimace at the smell. You haul yourself up from the sofa and shower.

By the time you’re showered and dressed in a pair of Dave’s sweatpants and one of his hoodies, Kovac is back. He sits on the sofa, watching you re-enter with an unreadable look on his face.

“Sit,” he says as you approach the opposite end of the sofa to him. There’s an object on the coffee table, covered in a cloth and you realise immediately what it is.

“Is there a reason you’re looming menacingly over a gun?” You ask, trying to ease the tension in your gut with a bit of levity.

“Dave asked me to give it to you,” Kovac says bluntly, “You know how to use it?”

He unfolds the cloth to reveal a silver Colt 1911 and you nod slowly, already reaching for the pistol.

“I grew up in Texas,” you say with a shrug as you inspect the utilitarian firearm, “I’ve handled bigger and meaner guns than this in my time.”

“Good,” Kovac nods, “Have you ever shot someone?”

The question throws you a little and you slowly shake your head.

“I’ve never had to.” You say.

“I hope that doesn’t change,” Kovac says solemnly, and you look up to see a flash of emotion in his blue eyes, something like remorse, “But if you need to, don’t hesitate, not even for a second.”

You eject the magazine and pull back the slider to expose the breech. You nod slowly to yourself, the whole process something second-nature to you normally. The threat looming over you makes everything feel surreal, disjointed.

“I promise,” you say as you depress the slide release and re-insert the magazine before flicking the safety on, “Thank you.”

Kovac simply nods, seemingly happy with your reaction before he stands and makes his way to the stairs.

“I’m going to keep watch upstairs, I hope you get some rest,” he says without turning before ascending the stairs.

“Night,” you call after him absently as you turn back to the television. Parks and Rec is still playing but you aren’t in the mood to mindlessly watch TV. You turn it off and head into Dave’s bedroom.

You place the gun on the nightstand, the cold thud of the metal on the wood surface loud in your ears. You slide under the sheets, and for a brief moment you’re lost in the familiar scent of Dave. The fresh, spiced smell of his body wash and the unique musk of simply him envelop you as you burrow into the sheets. Your eyes flutter closed, and you let out a soft sigh as you try and relax.

It could have been seconds, or hours since you closed your eyes when suddenly you’re jolted awake by the harsh blaring of an alarm. You check your phone, but the device lies silent, the display lights up as you move it, it’s just gone 4am.

You blink away the sleep as you see Dave’s desktop PC screens flashing violently, red and white as an emergency alarm blares through his speakers. Your stomach drops as the CCTV feed pops up in a new window.

There, on the doorstep – gun in hand – is the man from the bar, smiling up into the camera lens.

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[theetherealbloom]

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 3 | 14th Doctor

Chapter Three: Guess The Space Was The Thing That I Needed, But I Miss You

Summary: You arrived on present-day Earth engulfed in violence and chaos. And a familiar foe who transcends the universe’s laws and logic. He hails from a realm where science is a game, but that salt trick apparently blurred the lines of reality enough for him to enter your universe.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance, Character Death, 

Word Count: 15.5k

A/N: Hello old friend, and here we are, you and me on the last… chapter. When I posted the first chapter of this mini-series I was honestly terrified of the response I would be getting. I hadn’t been writing for a while due to stress or lack of motivation. But then the miracle called the Doctor Who specials came into existence and here we are. Also, Merry Christmas Eve! Here’s my little gift to you. I hope you enjoy. (P.S. yes there will be an epilogue :>)

Song: This Love by Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version)

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Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

ENGLAND, THE STREETS OF LONDON — DAY, 2023

The world descends into turmoil and pandemonium as cars collide, their metal frames screeching against each other. The air is filled with the cacophony of people shouting and screaming. Amidst the mayhem, you, the Doctor, and Donna navigate the tumult, pushing Wilf's wheelchair through the chaotic landscape. Struggling through the disarray, people around you engage in fights and heated arguments, adding to the surreal spectacle of disorder unfolding.

As the rumble of a truck engine grows louder, a man defiantly strides onto the road, seemingly prepared to challenge the oncoming driver. Reacting swiftly, both you and the Doctor extend your arms, urgently intervening. You exclaim, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Excuse me. Can you tell me, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

The elderly man, with an air of self-assuredness, retorts, "I can’t drive."

Perplexed, you furrow your brow and inquire, "Okay, so— Which means?"

Meanwhile, a car behind you impatiently honks, prompting the Doctor to raise his hand, signaling the driver to wait. Unperturbed, the stranger in front of you explains, "I pay my taxes. Which means I paid for this road. It is mine, and I will do with it what I like."

The Doctor interjects, cautioning, "You’ll get yourself killed."

The man, with a sneer and a narrowed gaze, replies, "It’s my life, not yours." Undeterred, the Doctor suggests, "But you could just stand over there and be safe."

Flailing his arms emphatically, the man retorts, "Blame them! Because it all changed two days ago. Everyone started thinking they’re right all the time. And they won’t change their mind. If you try to argue, they go mad. Well, not me. I’ve always been right."

The deafening honk of the truck intensifies as it barrels forward, compelling the Doctor to swiftly seize you and yank you out of harm's way. In the chaos, you unintentionally collide with a well-dressed man adorned in a tuxedo, complete with a top hat and a staff in his left hand. Apologizing in a refined manner, he utters, "Oh, excusez-moi, madame et monsieur, je suis désolé. But perhaps you will dance avec moi."

He then takes the lead in an impromptu dance, placing his hand just above your waist and swaying with you amidst the bedlam unfolding on the street. In a rather peculiar tone, he utters, "Ooh la la."

Feeling uncomfortable, you gently pull away from the eccentric stranger. The Doctor, sensing your unease, protectively tucks you behind his body and asserts, "That's my wife, sir. Excuse me." With a subtle maneuver, he guides you away, back to where Donna and Wilf are positioned on the side of the street.

Amidst the cacophony of screaming voices echoing through the chaotic streets, the peculiar stranger continues his solo dance, creating a bizarre spectacle in the midst of the turmoil. The distant whirr of a helicopter above adds to the disconcerting atmosphere, leaving you and the Doctor with a growing sense of panic, a shared feeling of confusion about the unfolding events.

Armored vehicles roll onto the scene, their imposing presence and military precision contrasting sharply with the chaotic backdrop. A soldier, wielding a loud megaphone, calls out with urgency, "Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Stay where you are. You are UNIT control. Repeat, UNIT control."

The soldiers swiftly move into action, their movements coordinated as they converge on your location. One of them confidently asserts, "Go, go, go! Let’s move! Eyes on, eyes on! I got them." The atmosphere shifts from anarchic confusion to a semblance of organized control as UNIT takes charge.

The authoritative figure from UNIT, Colonel Ibrahim, strides forward, a no-nonsense expression etched on his face. "Doctor, Stargazer, I’m Colonel Ibrahim of UNIT squad five," he declares with military precision. He gestures toward a waiting vehicle, a subtle urgency in his stance.

Donna, the voice of concern, steps forward, her plea directed at the Colonel. "Get him to safety. All right? Never mind about us. I want my grandad safe. All right? You got that?" Her words carry the weight of a granddaughter determined to ensure the safety of her grandad, emphasizing the weight of the situation.

Colonel Ibrahim gives an assertive nod, his military demeanor unwavering. "Yes, ma’am. We’ll keep your family safe," he assures Donna. Wilf, displaying concern for his granddaughter's well-being, encourages her, "You go with the Doctor."

Amidst the organized chaos of UNIT soldiers following orders, a palpable sense of unease settles over you. A feeling of being observed intensifies, prompting you to instinctively clasp the Doctor’s hand. Together, your hearts quicken as you turn to the left, discovering the stranger with whom you shared an odd dance. He stands eerily still, offering a disconcerting smile and a small wave, sending shivers down your spine.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Seated alongside the Doctor in the first helicopter, you peer out of the window, taking in the chaotic scene below. The city is ablaze, casting an eerie glow that turns the world outside into a disorienting spectacle, as if the very fabric of reality has been upended. The second helicopter follows closely, bearing the weight of the TARDIS, an emblem of hope amidst the turmoil. The flickering flames paint a surreal canvas against the night sky, leaving you with a profound sense of displacement.

The helicopter sets down on the helipad at the UNIT headquarters, and as you disembark, the brisk wind from the rotor blades whips through the air. Donna clutches her coat tightly, shouting over the din, "Oh, here comes trouble."

Shirley, in her wheelchair, wheels forward with a wide smile, greeting you with a warm, "I could say the same thing about you." The TARDIS touches down nearby on the helipad, and amidst the noise, the Doctor remarks, "Shirley, you can’t be serious." Shirley squeezes your arm in a friendly greeting.

Chief Scientific Officer Kate, your boss, appears on the scene, her short blonde hair bouncing slightly as she strides towards the group. The Doctor, arms outstretched, exclaims, "And Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. I remember your father working night and day to keep UNIT a secret. Look at you now. Out and proud defending the Earth."

Kate embraces the Doctor tightly before turning to you with a subdued smile, saying, "I fought them all. Robots and insects and yetis and clones. But what do we do this time, Doctor? How do we fight the human race?"

Inside the UNIT headquarters, the large steel doors close behind you, shutting out the chaos. The new HQ unfolds before your eyes, with the hum of radio chatter and the bustle of people. Multiple screens and tables with keyboards fill the room, and a triple giant screen at the center displays various statistics and news outlets reporting the devastation around the world.

Kate hands the tablet to the Doctor, and you lean over to peer at the symbols and graphs displayed on it. The Doctor, engrossed in the data, doesn't look up as he remarks, "Good, good, good. Now, what have we got? Are these worldwide? 'Cause I'm gonna need all of the statistics."

As he turns to his right, an exclamation of surprise escapes him. Your gaze follows his, and there stands a very familiar redheaded companion and colleague. She grins at the Doctor's reaction, and he joyfully exclaims, "Oh! That is the best news! Melanie, hello!"

Both you and the Doctor share a brief hug with Mel, who giggles and adds, "We'll catch up later. We haven't got time." You chime in with a playful, "Ta-da! Surprise, Doctor."

Turning to you, the Doctor asks, "You knew?"

You playfully roll your eyes and retort, "We work together, dear." Mel adds, "We also try to meet every Saturday for a cuppa."

Mel tilts her head slightly, addressing Donna with a warm smile, "I used to be like you. I was one of their companions." Donna gasps, exclaiming, "I wasn't the first redhead?"

With a shake of her head, Mel allows her large red curls to bounce, "No. That was me."

Donna awkwardly chuckles as the Doctor takes his glasses and wears them, quipping, "Although don't say companion. That sounds like we park him on the seafront at Weston-super-mare."

As Shirley pushes herself off the wheelchair, standing and giving Donna a look, Donna suddenly realizes what she said and turns to face Shirley, asking, "Is 'park' rude?" Shirley replies with a monotone voice, "Borderline." Donna winces in response.

In the heart of the command center, Kate stands with authority, her tablet in hand, and announces, "And stations. Gold Protocols. The Doctor and the Stargazer are in the room. Report."

Shirley adjusts her stance, her voice cutting through the air, "Two days ago, an increase in violence worldwide. The same increase in every country, all rising at exactly the same rate."

"Basically, every single human being thinks they're right and won't be told otherwise," Kate says, moving to stand next to you. Colonel Ibrahim adds, "That plane crash, the F665, Boston to Heathrow. The pilot declared his right to land wherever he wants."

On the screen, footage of the crazed pilot plays. His eyes were wide, he laughs amidst the blaring alarms of his instruments, declaring, "I'm coming home. Lookout, London. Daddy's coming home!"

In the tension-filled room, the Doctor initiates, "If everyone is going mad—" and Kate concurs, completing the thought, "So is the government."

Shirley, with a solemn nod, swipes on the screen of her tablet, unveiling footage of the current Prime Minister. He stands on a podium, his laughter echoing as he addresses the nation, "What do I care? I mean, seriously? Why should I care about you?"

In the aftermath of Donna's nonchalant remark, injecting a touch of humor with her observation, "No change there then," the room grapples with the unsettling scenes unfolding on the screen. The Doctor, now reclaiming the tablet, hands it back to Mel, who places it on her station. His gaze then sweeps across the room, and he remarks, "But you're fine. You're completely normal. And that's because of the—" He gestures towards the silver bands adorned with a glowing blue light worn around their arms.

Kate steps in to elaborate, "Oh, we call it the Zeedex." As the room processes this information, a robot's machine voice chimes in from the far left, connected to tubes and sporting screens, proudly announcing, "An invention of the Vlinx."

Taking a step forward, the Doctor addresses the robotic AI, "Hello, the Vlinx. I'm the Doctor, and this is my wife, the Stargazer."

Quick to clarify, you interject, "Not married yet."

"Just practicing," the Doctor playfully hums before turning his attention back to the Vlinx. With curiosity piqued, he queries, "So why's it called the Zeedex?"

In response to the Vlinx's brief explanation, "Good name," the Doctor emits a small, contemplative "Oh." Kate supplements the information, stating, "It disrupts the brain. Flattens the spike. Keeps everything calm."

With a slight scrunch of your nose, you inquire, "And the spike is?"

"I think I need to show you," Kate responds. Sensing a shift in the room, she commands Shirley, "Activate brain scan."

"Activating, ma'am," Shirley acknowledges. A beep emanates from the computer, and the screen displays the frequency inside Kate's brain. She points out, "That's my brain activity. Seems normal, albeit slightly heightened, given the end of the world. Now keep your eyes on the scan."

Kate moves to the center of the room and instructs, "And deactivate my Zeedex."

Shirley types on the keyboard, announcing, "Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, off." The light on her silver armband extinguishes. Kate takes a moment to scan the room, hands on hips, and asks, "Well?"

You gently interject, "Uh, hello?"

"Hello," Kate replies promptly, but her narrowed eyes betray suspicion. The Doctor poses a simple question, "How are you?"

"Fine," she responds.

You casually inquire, "Busy day?" Kate's nostrils flare, and she glares at you, retorting, "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just asking. Is that a problem?" you reply, observing the increased spike in brain activity. Kate aggressively points at you, asserting, "It's an invasion of my privacy. In fact, it's an assault on my civic rights. And I think it's highly relevant that the person demanding information from me is an alien."

The Doctor turns to Shirley, nodding in approval for her to activate her Zeedex, and calmly says, "Okay."

However, Kate abruptly interjects, rejecting the Doctor's initiative, "No, no, no, no, no. I think you'll find that I'm in charge here." With a swift motion, she rips off her Zeedex, launching into an impassioned tirade, "And we've been infiltrated by aliens, a man and a woman with two hearts," she points accusatorily at the Doctor, "a man who changes his face and cannot be trusted."

As her anger intensifies, Kate aggressively directs her accusations at Donna and Mel, both with red hair, insinuating a conspiracy. You instinctively step forward, shielding them from Kate's escalating rage.

Growing more incensed, Kate turns her ire towards Shirley, who looks on with mild dissatisfaction. Kate singles out your friend and declares, "And as for her, in that chair. I've seen you walk. I've seen you walking! Don't deny it!"

UNIT soldiers move in to pull Kate away, and she unleashes her fury at you, "And you! This is all your fault! If you hadn't fallen into the bloody time rift, altering the universe with your existence and falling in love with the Doctor—none of this would have happened!"

The soldiers carefully escort Kate away, and the Doctor swiftly positions himself in front of you, protectively shielding you from lingering gazes. You bury your face in his shoulder as Kate continues to shout, "No, you can't stop me. It's about time you heard the truth."

One of the soldiers places the silver band back on Kate's arm and commands, "Activate Zeedex," resulting in a beep and the restoration of the blue light on her band. Kate sits on the floor, panting, as the tension in the room eases.

You lift your head from the Doctor's shoulder and nod, silently assuring him that you're okay. Together, you approach Kate, who is visibly distressed, covering her face with her hand. She breathes out an apology, "I'm sorry."

Both you and the Doctor shake your heads, reassuring her, "No, it's okay."

Gasping for air, Kate turns to Shirley, mortified, realizing the extent of her outburst. She says, "Shirley, I'm so sorry."

Shirley dismisses the need for an apology, "Absolutely no need."

UNIT soldiers help Kate to her feet as she acknowledges, "It's not just me. It keeps spiking inside every single person's head."

"But what does that mean? Is it being beamed in from outside?" Donna inquires. The Vlinx responds, "No. It is natural. It is generated inside the brain."

Donna points out, "But not me. Not Grandad." Mel adds, "Nor me. I'm wearing a Zeedex just in case, but I've been fine. Well, no more opinionated than usual." Donna sighs, "You and me both."

You and the Doctor ponder the situation, and he suggests, "Maybe long-term travel in the TARDIS put you out of sync."

Donna shakes her head and proposes, "Can't you give everyone a Zeedex?" Kate scoffs at the idea, gesturing to the screen behind her, where a late-night talk show host expresses her skepticism, "They're using this to control us and monitor us. And microwave our brains. I am anti-Zeedex!"

The Doctor, in response, asks you to help him with his coat. You take it from him and neatly place it on a chair. He then stands next to Shirley and suggests, "Can we filter this wavelength? Lose the background noise."

Shirley hums in response, typing away on her keyboard, "Uh-huh. Gives us a strong coherent wave in seizure focus. Peaking seven times."

As you consider the recent events, you voice your thoughts, "So, this started two days ago. But why then? What else happened on that day?" Kate responds, "Exactly. We've been looking for a trigger, and there's this."

The screen illuminates with the image of a satellite gracefully orbiting the Earth, accompanied by detailed blueprints on the left side. Kate elucidates, "The KOSAT 5 satellite, launched by South Korea, activated two days ago.”

Shirley, with a swift gesture, adds to the explanation by displaying a live feed of the satellite, which hovers 36,000 kilometers above Earth. Kate expounds further, “KOSAT is the final link in the chain. The world is now 100% online. From the highest mountain to the deepest valley on Earth, everyone is connected.”

"But KOSAT is clean. We’ve checked and double-checked. It’s not like the old Archangel Network. There’s nothing hiding in that signal." Shirley asserts, and the Doctor, with a contemplative hum, adds, “And yet.” He shakes his head, “For the first time in history, everyone has access to this.” He taps on the edge of one of the monitors, saying, “A screen.”

"What if it’s a tune?" Donna asks, prompting you and the Doctor to turn around and face her.

"What?" The Doctor inquires as you move to stand in front of her. Donna continues, "I know we’ve only got minutes left to live, but give me a second." Donna begins to draw lines on a clipboard with a piece of paper as she explains, "Because I spent six months teaching my daughter how to play the recorder till she said, ‘This is not who I am.’ That was the start of a whole other conversation, believe you me.”

She places the sheet of paper on the screen, drawing dots on the corresponding line, “But if… you look at these seven peaks, like this…”

She flips the sheet of paper around, revealing what you recognize to be music notes, and Donna confirms this by saying, “Maybe it's music.”

“A classic arpeggio. Middle C, an octave higher.” Mel says before she sings in arpeggio, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

“Oh.” Kate says as if she remembers something, and you look around to see others having the same reaction, as if they’ve heard it before. You and the Doctor look around and ask, “What? What is it?”

Mel repeats her tune, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

Donna gasps, her eyes slightly watering and her blue eyes shining as she says, “I know that tune.”

“I-I know that from somewhere. What are the notes?” Shirley asks, spinning her chair to face you, and you read them off, “C, E, G, C, G, E, C. It’s a musical palindrome.” Then you sigh, “But it’s just a straightforward arpeggio. Everyone knows arpeggios.”

“It’s a basic tune. So, the question is, why are we all reacting to this one?” Mel asks as everyone looks around at each other. You and the Doctor frown, and he says, “We’re not. The Vlinx?”

“Negative.” The Vlinx replies promptly, and you hum out loud, “Just the humans.”

“It’s just— It’s so familiar. It’s like it’s been buried in my head for years.” Donna says and groans, “What is it?”

Then you hear giggling from across the room, a nearby station. You and the Doctor turn to see Shirley pointing to her screen, a puppet in black and white display as she says, “I found the exact same notes.”

The puppet begins to laugh in arpeggio, and you and the Doctor realize it at the same time. The Doctor says, “Oh, it’s not a tune. It’s a laugh.”

“It’s a puppet.” Kate says as she stares wide-eyed at the screen featuring the puppet.

“The giggle in everyone’s head.” You say as you stand behind Shirley, looking at the monitor as it continues to laugh in the arpeggio notes.

“What is that thing?” Donna asks, and Shirley explains, “Stooky Bill, the first face ever to appear on television. Put there by John Logie Baird himself.”

Donna shakes her head and points at Stooky displayed on the monitor, “I’ve never seen him before, so how do— How do I know that laugh?”

You blink a few times before realizing out loud, saying, “If the very first image has been hiding in every screen since… sneaking into your head, carving a wave, and waiting…”

“But hiding how? If there were secret pictures hiding in every television, we would have found it,” Shirley asks, so sure of herself and UNIT’s capabilities. The Doctor then sassily and in a mocking tone replies, “Oh, why? Because you’re so clever? Maybe Stooky Bill’s a lot smarter than you.” Shirley raises her eyebrows and puckers her lips, somewhat agreeing to the possibility.

“Imagine… if he burnt himself into television itself and every picture ever since, every single one.” You say before taking out your sonic screwdriver, pointing to one of the monitors, and clicking the button. It whizzes, and the image of Stooky Bill appears. The woman who sat by that desk pushes back her chair in shock, and he is mockingly laughing as you hear the notes in the air.

“Screen… after screen, after screen.” You use your sonic screwdriver, tapping on each station's monitor, revealing Stooky Bill as it continues to reverberate its laughs.

The Doctor joins in, using his sonic on an employee’s phone in their hands. He says as he clicks his sonic screwdriver, “And every type of screen.” The Doctor taps on Kate’s tablet, showing the image of Stooky Bill. He says, “Every one and everywhere. He’s inside ‘em all!”

You move to stand in the very front of the room, center, pointing your sonic at the large screens. “And two days ago, he finally connected worldwide, branding his Giggle into your brains.” The sonic screwdriver warbles, and images of Stooky Bill, along with his laugh, appear on the large monitor.

The Doctor stands by your side, adding in a low voice, “Since the very first existence of television. Laughing at the human race. And driving you mad.”

The entire group gathers for a small meeting by the large metal doors that lead to the helipad outside. You stand in a circle, positioned by the Doctor’s side, his glasses tucked away in his pocket. Kate tries to grasp the newfound knowledge as she asks, “But something at that scale, over so many years, who could do that?”

The Doctor's countenance turns wrathful, and you sense the heat and intensity radiating from his body as he retorts, "The puppet’s just a puppet. We’re looking for the puppeteer." He then pauses, taking a deep breath that puffs out his chest as he crosses his arms. Speaking with a low intensity, he adds, "And I’ve got a memory. I think something’s coming back… after a very long time."

Raising his voice to address everyone, he grits his teeth, "But it’s not only the giggle. Don’t go thinking you’ve got an excuse. The human race might be clever and bright and brilliant." His words are delivered with a hint of disgust, "But it’s also savage and venal and relentless."

The Doctor points to the screens showcasing people causing havoc around the world as he vehemently declares, "All the anger out there on the street. The lies, the righteousness." Jabbing a finger at the rest of the group, he continues, "That’s human. That’s you. That’s who you are. Using you’re intelligence to be stupid. Poisoning the world. And hating each other, you’ve never needed any help with that!”

He briefly pauses, toning down his voice as he says, “But today, something else is using your worst attributes. Playing with you. Like toys.” A chill runs down your spine as a distant memory starts to resurface, hinting at an old-time foe returning to wreak havoc. You blink, a hunch forming about who might be orchestrating all of the catastrophe.

“Can we take that satellite out?” The Doctor asks Kate, and she replies promptly, “All missiles are on lockdown, but we’ve got the Galvanic Beam.”

“What range?” You inquire, and Kate explains, “We could pick off a pebble on the moon. Trouble is, taking out a South Korean satellite will have international consequences, so we’ve been waiting for permission. All world leaders are being affected by the Giggle.”

The Doctor nods and says, “You have my permission.” He then looks to you, and you deeply sigh, nodding, “And you have mine.”

Kate nods to Colonel Ibrahim, signaling to get the Galvanic Beam ready. Then, she turns to you and the Doctor, “Thank you, Doctor and Stargazer.” Kate moves past you, announcing to the entire UNIT staff on the floor, “Gold protocol override. All staff, initiate Galvanic activation. Bring up the beam.”

“Platform in motion,” an employee's voice echoes through the speaker as the platform outside the tower shifts downward.

“Shirley, have we got the exact date that Logie Baird made that transmission?” The Doctor asks aloud, to which Shirley responds with determination, “I’ll find it,” and begins clicking away on her keyboard.

“All clear on the helipad,” another employee announces over the speaker as The Doctor walks over to Mel’s station, and you make your way towards Shirley, beginning to help her locate the date of the transmission.

The Doctor leans over Mel’s shoulder, and she says to him, “I fed the KOSAT fake coordinates, so it’s coming into UK orbit. Within range in three minutes.” The Doctor compliments her, “You’re brilliant.” He then looks at her with a smile, “Hello.” Mel replies with her own smile, the kind that reaches her eyes as she says, “Hi.”

You glance over to see the Doctor and Mel chatting as they work, and a sense of happiness and comfort washes over you, knowing Mel is okay. After a few minutes, you hear Mel announce to everyone, “Galvanic Beam payload boarding.”

“Platform locking at level 55,” an employee announces over the intercom, and Mel continues, “Galvanic Beam in position. KOSAT in range in 90 seconds.”

A beep emanates from Shirley’s computer, and your eyes quickly scan over the words before Shirley turns her head and says to the Doctor, “Doctor, Stooky Bill was televised on the 2nd of October 1925 at 22 Frith Street, Soho, W1D 4RF.”

You grab the Doctor’s coat from the chair and hand it to him as he says to Kate, “Fire when ready. Don’t wait for us.” He then looks to Colonel Ibrahim, quickly asking, “TARDIS?”

The Colonel points as he replies promptly, “Suite 17.”

The Doctor grunts, “Okay.” After putting on his coat, he grabs your hand, pulling you along with him as Donna says to you both, “You’re not going without me.”

As you enter the suite and find the TARDIS parked there, the Doctor quickly unlocks it with his key and rushes inside, with you and Donna trailing right behind him. Time’s running out, always running out, and every road you discover disappears under your feet. Because if nothing else, you're given a little time to change the game, a chance to redefine everything.

SOHO — 1925

The TARDIS whooshes and whizzes, finally giving a loud thud as it lands. The Doctor opens the door first, popping his head out to check if it’s safe before allowing you and Donna to step out into the dimly lit alley where the TARDIS is parked. The flickering gas lamps cast a warm glow, highlighting the cobblestone street and the faint echoes of distant chatter.

The Doctor announces to the two of you, “Soho, 1925.”

“So, what about Mel?” Donna asks, wiggling her eyebrows playfully at the two of you. You let out a chuckle, saying, “She’s brilliant, isn’t she?”

Donna laughs with a smile, “Yeah, but I just kept thinking, all this time, you’ve never mentioned her.”

The Doctor addresses Donna with a frown, “Donna, we’re a billion years old. If we stood and talked about everyone we’d ever met, we’d still be in the TARDIS yapping.”

“So you talk about no one ever?” Donna asks, and you look away guiltily. Donna continues, “You just keep charging on.”

“Yes, because I’m busy. Like now,” the Doctor replies.

“But you are busy every second of every day. I mean, look at us now. We haven’t stopped,” Donna points out, and you all come to a halt by the sidewalk. She continues, “I saw you, Doctor. I got a glimpse inside your mind.” The three of you stand on the sidewalk, surrounded by the ambient sounds of 1925 London, as Donna expresses, “And it’s like you’re staggering. You are staggering along. Maybe that’s why your old face came back. You’re wearing yourself out.”

You observe as the Doctor contemplates her words, his expression revealing a momentary reflection on her insight. However, he doesn't directly acknowledge them. Instead, he smoothly shifts the topic, saying, "Stooky Bill might be on Frith Street, but the question is, where did Stooky Bill come from?”

His gaze shifts to the bright red shop on the street labeled Mr. Emporium above the store. The three of you cross the street, anticipation building as you peek through the window. There, you spot someone engaged in a playful exchange with the Doctor, both figures playing peek-a-boo before the mysterious man expertly hops down to conceal himself. The Doctor's expression tightens with anger as he forcefully shoves the door open, pulling back the maroon curtains, and the three of you step into the enchanting toy store.

The atmosphere is filled with wonder and a touch of nostalgia as you take in the whimsical surroundings. Shelves adorned with a myriad of toys, each telling a story of childhood innocence and imagination. The air is scented with a mix of wooden toys, plush animals, and the faint fragrance of freshly painted models.

As you step further into the store, your disbelief intensifies as you recognize the man orchestrating this peculiar encounter. An old foe, one who could have channeled his creativity for good, yet chose to warp reality into a twisted game where play meant suffering for others. Dressed in a crisp white button-up and a vibrant red apron, he skillfully juggles three balls, his voice carrying a distinct German accent as he addresses you, "Die ball is die first game ever being invented."

He throws a ball towards you, only for the Doctor to swiftly intercept it before it makes contact with your stomach. Without missing a beat, the Doctor tosses it away onto the ground. Meanwhile, the man behind the counter continues his mesmerizing juggling act, sharing his narrative, "Stone Age man, he picked up ein rock." The Doctor catches another ball skillfully, and with a nonchalant toss, sends it away.

The rhythmic cadence of his speech, accompanied by the mesmerizing flow of his juggling, weaves an enchanting atmosphere within the toy store. The balls dance through the air, tracing whimsical patterns, adding a touch of magic to the man's storytelling. With a gleam in his eye, he continues narrating, "He said, ‘Oh! Das ist ein Ball.’"

The sequence of throw and catch becomes a rhythmic ballet, each movement a beat in the peculiar symphony unfolding before you. "He threw it, und he killed a man," he declares with a dramatic flair, followed by a nonchalant toss.

Another cycle of throw and catch commences, and he recounts, "He said, ‘Oh, what fun!’" The balls move effortlessly in the air, and the ambiance resonates with a sense of playfulness.

"Und now, everybody loves the balls," he proclaims, the balls gliding through the air in a mesmerizing display. Every throw, catch, and toss adds to the building tension in the tale.

"Until the year five billion. When the very last human picks up the skull of his enemy," he declares, the tone shifting slightly, yet maintaining the captivating rhythm. The balls continue their dance, and he winks as he concludes, "Und said, ‘That is the final ball of all,’ jah?"

As he tosses another ball, the vibrant atmosphere in the toy store takes a sudden turn when Donna, with a determined air, steps forward and effortlessly catches the ball with a single hand. Her gaze, firm and unyielding, pierces through the whimsical scene as she asserts, "Enough."

The man behind the counter raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Donna Noble. I wondered which one of you had the balls," he retorts, his words carrying a playful undertone. Donna, taken aback, attempts to brush it off with a casual, "Okay. So you know my name?" The man, still smirking, raises both eyebrows in response.

Curiosity sparking, Donna seeks answers. "How do you three know each other?" she questions, her tone holding a mix of suspicion and intrigue. In response, the Doctor, donning a low, stern tone and a deep frown that accentuates the lines on his face, issues a command, "Star, Donna, go back to the TARDIS." The urgency in his voice hints at a deeper concern, urging them to retreat from the unfolding confrontation.

Donna, wearing a perplexed expression, seeks clarification, "What?"

The Doctor, frustration evident in his gritted teeth, reiterates his command, "Go back to the TARDIS."

You, however, defiantly shake your head. "As much as I love you bossing me around, you do not get to tell me to leave you here with him." The tension in the air thickens, with unspoken concerns lingering between all of you.

"Oh, but he is recognizing me," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You whip your head back to the man behind the counter, the one who revels in tricks and games for sheer amusement. Chaos and discord personified, he continues, "Are you not 'ge-pleased,' Herr Doctor und Stargazer, to see me again after so many years?"

Donna, finally seeking clarity, asks, "Who is he?" Flashbacks of memories flood your mind.

The Doctor answers, "The Toymaker." As the realization sinks in, the atmosphere in the room starts to change.

The Toymaker gives a bow, a theatrical flourish that befits his whimsical yet ominous presence. Abruptly changing accents, he addresses with a menacing tone, "We meet again, Doctor, Stargazer."

But just as swiftly, the Toymaker's demeanor undergoes a shift. Stepping backward, he adopts a German accent, prompting curiosity. "But think, if the ball was the very first game, what was the second?"

With a mischievous grin, he seizes both ends of the curtain behind him and declares, "Hide-and-seek!" The Toymaker pulls the curtain shut, his laughter echoing in the room in those distinctive arpeggio notes.

The Doctor vaults over the counter, deftly pushing aside the two curtains, only to discover the Toymaker's disappearance. Behind the curtains lies a door, and with a quick turn of the copper-colored knob, the Doctor reveals a seemingly endless hallway. Warm-toned lights bathe the corridor in a gentle glow, wooden floorboards creak, and numerous doors line both sides of the mysterious passage.

As the Doctor steps forward, guided by an instinct you and Donna share, the door abruptly slams shut behind both of you. Turning sharply, the Doctor commands, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Go back.” With a quick twist of the doorknob, it should logically lead you out, but instead, it reveals the same seemingly endless hallway. Donna, her mouth agape, exclaims, “It’s bigger than the shop. Don’t tell me he’s got his own TARDIS.”

“The TARDIS is an idea the Toymaker would throw away,” the Doctor spits out with disdain as you three stride down the hallway. He continues, “We’ve stepped inside his domain, and it’s governed by the rules of play.” The Doctor turns to the door on his left, confidently opening it. Donna and you follow him, but just as the door slams shut, you find yourselves still trapped in the long, mysterious hallway.

“Okay. Keep going forward,” the Doctor instructs, stepping ahead with you and Donna in tow. Donna, perplexed, shakes her head and remarks, “But how does this even make sense? 'Cause I’ve seen some things with you two. I’ve seen Ood, Davros. I mean, the Adipose, for God’s sake.”

The Doctor twists another doorknob, taking a chance with the door to his left, only for it to transport you three back into the hallway. Donna continues, “But they had a sort of logic. Daleks built a great big bomb. I understood that. But this— this is impossible. How does it exist?”

The Doctor grits his teeth, growling, “That’s what unravels me. All the laws I cling to, gone.” He spins, opening another door only to lead you three back into the hallway. Moving to the opposite door, he finds it locked and slams his palm against the wood in frustration before pressing on down the hall.

Donna moves closer to you two and asks, “Who is the Toymaker? What is he?”

The Doctor turns to face Donna, explaining, “When I was young, I was so sure of myself. I made a terrible mistake. I let the TARDIS fall into another realm.” The Doctor opens a door, and you follow him as he continues, “A hollow beneath the Under Universe, where science is a game and all of us are toys.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. "It's also how the Stargazer ended up with us, but that's something I will never regret." You softly remark, "A rift in the universe..." The Doctor quickly kisses your forehead, saying, "And it brought me you, my love."

After a moment, the Doctor struggles with another stubborn door, wiggling the doorknob in frustration. "I beat the Toymaker. I won his game, but now he's here. He's found his way into reality."

As he opens the door to the right, leading the three of you back into the hallway, he stills and sighs. "And I think it's all because of me."

You exchange a glance with the Doctor, shaking your head in disagreement. However, before you can utter a word, he cuts you off, his gaze intense. "'Cause I got clever, didn't I? I cast that salt at the edge of the universe. Thought I could have it all," he admits, his eyes locked onto yours. "I thought I could finally have you. I played a game and let him in, an elemental force with the power of a god, and he’s driven the human race mad with a puppet.”

Donna begins, “Yeah, but you always say—” the Doctor shakes his head and mockingly replies as he walks backward down the hall raising his voice, “Oh, what do I say? What do I say? What do I say?”

“‘Cause I’m always so certain. I’m all sonic and TARDIS and Time Lord. Take that away.” The Doctor says and defeatedly shrugs, “Take away the toys. What am I?” He chokes a little as his eyes glaze over, repeating, “What am I now?”

The Doctor looks to you and Donna as he offers a variation of the truth, “I don’t know if I can save your life this time.” The vulnerability in his voice echoes through the corridor, a stark departure from his usual confident demeanor.

Donna raises her eyebrows, her gaze shifting between you and the Doctor. “It’s not about me,” she asserts.

You meet Donna's gaze and respond, “Oh, yes, it is.”

With a nonchalant shrug and a deep breath, Donna begins, “Well,” and then she steps a little forward, flashing a determined smile, “Maybe I’ll save you, you big idiot.” Through the perplexing hallway, the chatter reverberates with a mixture of warmth and friendliness as you all chuckle.

"Anyway, you beat him before," Donna points out, and the Doctor wears a contemplative frown. "That’s the problem. Odd-on I’ll lose next time."

Donna dismisses the notion with a shake of her head. "Nope. Doesn’t work like that. Because my dad used to say, ‘Dice didn’t know what the dice did last time.’ Games don’t have a memory. Every game starts from scratch."

After a moment of letting the words settle, the Doctor nods with a genuine smile. "Oh, I like that. Well said, Dad." He takes a deep breath before suggesting, "Okay. Shall we find the right door?"

The Doctor swiftly dashes to one of the doors, opening them one after the other. You and Donna struggle to keep up, the anticipation heightening. Suddenly, one of the heavy doors slams shut behind Donna, separating you from her. Then the door in front of Donna slams shut, also separating her from the Doctor, the echoes of the closing door lingering in the air. 

You sense your fingernails biting into the palm of your hand, forming a tight fist as you strike the door with the side of your fists. An exasperated cry escapes your lips as you press your forehead against the wooden door. You shut your eyes, tears trickling down your cheeks. Slowly, you lower your hands to your sides, then raise them, placing them at the back of your neck in an attempt to regain composure.

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs before releasing it in a resounding exhale. Pushing away from the door, you continue down the corridor. A distinct pull guides you to a door on the right. Twisting the knob, you pull the door open and step into a room filled with standing mirrors encased in plastic frames. As you survey the surroundings, the door slams shut behind you, making you flinch and glance back.

Turning your head forward, you're met with various incarnations of the Doctor—past and present—alongside friends and companions, all staring back at you through the mirrors. Their gaze penetrates through you. The mirrors shift, forming two opposing lines, resembling portraits guiding you towards a solitary dresser and a seat. On the creaky wooden floors, you move delicately, feeling like a doll as the eyes of your own reflections track your every step down the mirrored pathway.

You eventually reach the dresser, and the seat smoothly pulls out from underneath it. Hesitant, you lower yourself onto it, only to find that your own reflection is not what greets you. Instead, it's the Toymaker, wearing a smug expression as he says, “Ah, yes, the Stargazer. Oh, how I’ve missed you, old friend.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows, “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

The Toymaker’s expression shifts to a sour one as his face scrunches up, “We were friends, we had such wonderful games in our little dollhouse until the Doctor stole you away from me.”

You shake your head as you say sternly, “He didn’t take me away from you.”

The Toymaker childishly rolls his eyes as he also crosses his arms, “Admit it. You were happy. Happier to be blissfully unaware of who you are when we were in our universe.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes glaze over, pressing your lips, trying to steady your breathing. Softly, you spoke, “You were controlling me. You were trying to mold me into something… that had to be exceptional to be worthwhile.”

You sniff as you continue, “You never cared about me or any of it. You only wanted to play your games and win. And the one time I won… I saw your true nature and never let me out of that box.”

You gaze directly into the Toymaker's eyes, inquiring, “How? How did you end up here?”

He tilts his head and smiles, “The Doctor may have cast that salt, but that was just the door. You being here, allowing yourself to exist in this reality, my dear, you were the key. The Doctor merely provided the key, and voila. Here I am.”

The Toymaker shifts before he hums and then says nonchalantly, “Well, this was so much fun… us two friends catching up. We should do this more often.��

You narrow your eyes as you shake your head, “Don’t you dare hurt them.”

The Toymaker grins, “Well, what’s the fun in that?”

The room around you seems to blur as a heaviness settles in your chest, the weight of your choices and the consequences of your time with the Toymaker bearing down on you. The mirrors that once reflected various versions of yourself, your friends, and the Doctor now seem to mock your vulnerability.

Your face shifts to anger as you grab your sonic screwdriver, raise it to the mirror, and press the button, causing the illusion to shatter. There is no glass in the mirror because, on the other side of it, is you—freed from the false reflections that sought to define you.

You rise from your seat, hastening as the glass mirrors rupture behind you, fragments and shards soaring through the air. Grabbing the doorknob, you wrench the door open, hurtling into the hallway just as the door behind you slams shut.

Anticipating the impact of the hard hallway floor, you're surprised to find yourself enveloped in sturdy arms, the familiar texture of the Doctor’s coat reassuring. "Whoa! Darling, there you are," he exclaims.

Speechless, you encircle him with your arms, finding solace in the warmth he provides. He eases back, cradling the side of your head, and you yield to the touch, trying to ground yourself in the reassurance that you're still alive, still breathing. Life may have presented challenges, love may have left its mark, and certain experiences may have etched an ache in your soul, yet, you survived.

The Doctor scans your face and says, “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong? What happened? Did he hurt you?”

You sniffle as you shake your head frantically, “No, I’m just… I’m sorry.”

The Doctor frowns, “What for?”

“It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.”

“No. I cast that salt—”

“Yes, but since I’m here, in this reality. I allowed him to exist here as well. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor pulls you in closer, tightly wrapping his arms around your frame as he asks, “Did he tell you that?”

You merely make a squeak as you nod into his chest, “It makes sense—”

“No. It’s— I refuse to believe it. I won’t.”

You began, “But—”

The Doctor pauses, his gaze softening, and he says, “No, my love. It's not your fault. Don't let his games mess with your mind. We'll figure this out together.”

You let go of your ghosts and your worries for once. It was just one step, but it said plenty. That you've been cut off from the outside world for such a large portion of your existence dawns on you. That you devoted so much of your life to a version of existence that was cut off from believing in the good and the beautiful as a means of survival, that you tried so hard to shield yourself from the love you so desperately needed.

You knew that you wouldn’t find a love that was perfect, but you found a love that was real. The kind that sees you and brings down your walls, that asks you to share parts of your soul you have tucked away and kept hidden from the world.

Suddenly, the creak of another door opening startles both of you, prompting a swift turn of your heads. Your heart skips a beat as you spot your fiery-haired friend. You exclaim, “Donna!”

“Oh, my god!” Donna exclaims, and the Doctor responds, “There you are!” As you eagerly move forward to embrace Donna, the room undergoes a rapid metamorphosis, transforming into a puppeteer theatre, with the Toymaker standing at its center.

Fanfare resonates in the background through concealed speakers as the Toymaker speaks in German, “Kommen Sie, kommen sie!”

Three chairs materialize from behind you, smoothly rolling forward and obliging you to take a seat upon them as they advance towards where the Toymaker stands.

"The show is just beginning. Worldwide premiere," the Toymaker announces, vanishing momentarily only to reappear behind the puppet theatre at the center. He addresses Donna Noble, "This is for you. Let me tell you what happened when the Doctor, he was leaving you."

Lifting the cross brace of the string puppet, he continues, "He met a friend called Amy Pond. And he loved Amy Pond." The strings sway as he manipulates the Amy puppet. "Yes, he be liking die redheads." A playful wink is followed by, "And they went to and fro in time und space."

The Toymaker's tone darkens as he narrates, "But Amy Pond was touched by the Weeping Angel. And she died." He grabs a large pair of scissors, severing the strings of the puppet, rendering it limp and lifeless.

The Doctor's expression turns grim and angry as he grits his teeth, "She died of old age."

Quickly shifting to an American accent, the Toymaker mockingly remarks, "Well, that’s alright then."

Continuing in his vibrant German accent, the Toymaker orchestrates the descent of a new puppet onto the stage, "Und then he was meeting Clara. Mmm." He adds, "But she was killed by a bird." Another snip of the strings leaves the puppet limp and lifeless.

The Doctor growls, "She still survives in her last second of life."

"Well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker replies in his mocking American accent.

The Toymaker continues in his vibrant German accent, placing another puppet on the stage, "Und then the Doctor met Bill." Strings are pulled as he continues, "Not Stooky Bill, but lady Bill. But she was killed by the Cybermen." With a snip, the puppet falls to the floor, lifeless.

The Doctor's lip trembles, jaw set, as he asserts in a raised tone, "But her consciousness survives."

"Oh, well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker retorts once more in his mocking American accent. He then transitions to a new scene with stars and planets descending, connected with strings. Cutting the strings, he comments with feigned remorse, "Und then there came die Flux. Oh, Donna Noble, the poor Doctor." The Toymaker continues to sever the strings attached to the planets, remarking, "Die Flux was killing everything."

"Is all of this true?" Donna asks in disbelief, leaving you frozen and unsure of what to do or say.

The Doctor abruptly stands up, his gaze locked onto the Toymaker's eyes as he lowers his tone, the gruffness evident, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's expression drops, his nostrils flare, and he strides toward the table. The Doctor meets him at the other end, and they lock eyes, a tense silence enveloping them.

The two of them settle into seats across from each other as the Toymaker mysteriously conjures a deck of cards. In a refined British accent, he declares, “I accept the challenge.”

The Doctor retorts, “You have no choice.”

With an air of a magician, the Toymaker skillfully shuffles the deck of cards, his hands moving with deliberate precision. "I came to this universe with such delight, and I played them all, Doctor." The Toymaker lays down the cards in a line, maintaining his magical flair. "I toyed with supernovas, turned galaxies into spinning tops."

He holds the two halves of the deck and continues, "I gambled with God and made him a jack-in-the-box." Flipping the cards, he shuffles the deck, his eyes locked onto the Doctor's. "I made a jigsaw out of your history. Did you like it?"

"The Master was dying and begged for his life with one final game. And when he lost, I sealed him for all eternity inside my gold tooth." The Toymaker says, a sly smile accompanying the gesture to his shiny gold tooth. However, his tone turns grave and haunted as he continues, "There’s only one player I didn’t dare face. The one who waits."

Both you and the Doctor furrow your brows, and the Doctor questions, “Who’s that?”

The Toymaker's gaze becomes distant as he recalls, “I saw it. Hiding. And I ran.”

“What do you mean?” The Doctor presses, and the Toymaker shakes his head, “Mmm. That’s someone else’s game.” Placing the deck of cards neatly on the table, he asks, “What shall we play?”

“One request. Tell me,” The Doctor starts, his tone curious, “The human race, back in the future. Why does everyone think they’re right?”

The Toymaker smirks knowingly and replies, “So that they win. I made every opinion supreme. That’s the game of the 21st century. They shout, they type, and they cancel. So I fixed it. Now everybody wins.”

“And everyone loses,” you remark, your eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. The Toymaker smiles, acknowledging the truth, “The never-ending game.” He then turns to the Doctor, prompting, “Now name your challenge.”

“The simplest game of all. Let’s cut,” the Doctor proposes, and the Toymaker grins, “Highest card wins.”

“Aces high,” the Doctor asserts.

“You choose,” the Toymaker replies.

“I’ll go first,” the Doctor declares.

Then Donna interjects, “But he’ll cheat.”

You, the Toymaker, and the Doctor quickly disagree, simultaneously stating, “No.” The Toymaker's face turns sour, offended by the accusation, “Shame.”

“That’s the one thing he won’t do,” the Doctor asserts, and Donna points out, “But they’re his cards. He’s all tricks. Of course, he’ll cheat.”

You then explain, “The only rules the Toymaker follows are the rules of the game. They bind his entire existence. The Doctor wins or he loses, and that’s it.”

The Toymaker glowers at the Doctor as he says, “Then play.”

The Doctor seizes the top deck of cards, turning it to reveal the Eight of Clubs. A sinking feeling creeps into the pit of your stomach as you calculate the odds, not liking the prospects for the Doctor.

The Toymaker raises an eyebrow with a smug expression, “My turn.” He grabs a portion of the deck, turning it to reveal the King of Hearts. Gripping the sides of your chair, you feel a sense of dread as the Toymaker laughs, “I’m the King.”

Switching back to his German accent, he declares excitedly, “Und now, meine kleine Doctor, we will see what is my prize!”

The Doctor responds, “One… all.”

A light laugh of relief escapes you, realizing the Doctor had a backup plan in case he lost. Leaning across the table, the Doctor's words make the Toymaker's expression drop, “I won the game many years ago. You’ve won today, which leaves us equal. And you know two players are bound by one inviolable rule.”

The Toymaker sneers as he begrudgingly admits, “Best of three.”

The Doctor nods, “Best of three.”

The Toymaker purses his lips in annoyance, narrowing his eyes before saying, “Then let’s make it 2023.” He suddenly pulls a curtain from the side, quickly vanishing as the red velvet cloth clatters to the floor. The room transforms, and you hear the creaking of wood.

Both you and the Doctor exclaim, “Donna!”

Donna has already sprung from her chair, responding, “I’m already running!”

As you run, the structure behind you collapses in on itself, the scratching and groaning of wood as it folds in the hallway. Eventually, you make it out of the shop, running into the streets and stopping from across the street to see the entire building fold itself neatly into a box on the ground.

Donna points out, "He said 2023," and the Doctor responds as his chest puffs out a breath, "Winner takes all."

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Once the TARDIS had landed, you and Donna hurriedly followed the Doctor, who carried the box containing the Toymaker's shop. As you reached the main area of operations, the Doctor placed the red box on Melanie's desk and instructed, "Keep an eye on that."

Stepping up on one of the desks, the Doctor addressed everyone in a loud tone, "The satellite was only a link in the chain, so Donna needs access to the subframe. There is no one in London faster on a keyboard. She’s creating a template for this." He produced a flash drive and explained, "It coordinates all telescopes and satellites and deep-space scans across the Earth." Tossing the flash drive to Shirley, who deftly caught it.

Turning to the Vlinx, the Doctor requested, "The Vlinx, I need all mesh reflectors on Earth translated to digital five."

As Donna worked on the keyboard, Mel replied to Donna's question, "Dynamic. We’re using triad."

Donna nodded in understanding, typing rapidly, "Got ya. Okay, so you should all be receiving this now."

"How bad is it, Doctor, Star?" Kate asked with concern. The Doctor responded with a warning tone, "Something entered this world in 1925. I don’t know how. And I warn you, this thing can get from 1925 to now like stepping through a door."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and continued, "But if we’re lucky, the program the Stargrazer created can detect the decay of an energy signature from 98 years ago. Might be on Earth. Might be in orbit. Might be in space. But if we can find the entrance, maybe we can turn it into an exit."

"What are we fighting?" Kate asked, and you responded grimly, "An elemental force beyond the rules of the universe."

Shirley then inquired with a puzzled tone, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor gave her a look and explained, "You think life is a balance between order and chaos, but the universe is not binary." As the Spice Girls' "Spice Up Your Life" began playing from somewhere, he continued, "Far from it. There is order and chaos, and then there is play." Pointing to the ceiling, he asked, "What’s that?"

"Could you turn that off, please?" Kate requested, and Melanie, standing from her chair, asked, "Who is that?"

The Doctor groaned, "Oh, I think he’s here."

The Toymaker entered the scene like a Broadway hurricane, dressed as a band leader with his hair curled and styled. A door suddenly appearing with the bell jingling as he strutted forward. Confetti popped, lights flashed, and the Toymaker lip-synced to the Spice Girls' song playing from an unknown location.

"When you're feelin' sad and low

We will take you where you gotta go"

The door materialized behind you, the bell jingling as the Toymaker stepped out, dancing and lifting his hat, grooving to the music. You and the Doctor stood there, unimpressed, wearing a fed-up expression.

The Toymaker, immersed in the infectious beats of the Spice Girls, continued his impromptu performance. With infectious enthusiasm, he teleported across various areas of the headquarters, seamlessly syncing his lip movements to the lyrics of the song. His dance was a spectacle of exaggerated expressions, capturing the vibrant spirit of the Spice Girls' anthem.

As the music echoed through the room, the Toymaker made flamboyant movements, teleporting next to Shirley. With flair, he held up a phone, lip-syncing passionately to the lyrics.

"Smilin', dancin', everything is free

All you need is positivity"

The Toymaker's energetic dance moves and lively expressions added a surreal touch to the otherwise serious atmosphere of the operation.

“Colours of the world

Spice up your life”

Teleporting with theatrical finesse, he continued his spirited performance, engaging with the song's upbeat tempo.

“Every boy and every girl

Spice up your life”

The Toymaker, a delightful force of whimsy, twirled and danced with infectious energy, infusing the tension-filled room with an unexpected burst of joy.

“People of the world

Spice up your life

Aah

Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front

Ha ha (uh uh)

Go round”

With each step, he appeared and disappeared, dancing effortlessly to the rhythm. In a sudden move, the Toymaker materialized next to Kate, seamlessly incorporating her into his lively dance. However, the exuberant twirl proved too much, and Kate, spun too fast, and collided with a wall.

Undeterred, the Toymaker vanished and reappeared beside Melanie, pulling her into an impromptu dance as UNIT soldiers point their weapon at him.

“Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front”

The Toymaker spun Melanie like a spinning top, prompting your alarmed cry, "Melanie!" Both you and the Doctor rushed to her aid as she tumbled to the ground, the unexpected dance taking an unforeseen turn.

"La la la la la la la la la

La la la la la la la"

Kate regains her composure, brushing off her slacks with a determined air as she commands the UNIT soldiers, "Detain him!"

In response, a contingent of UNIT soldiers swiftly advances, attempting to apprehend the whimsical Toymaker. The Doctor's warning echoes in the air, “No, don’t!” However, defying the Doctor's urgent plea, the Toymaker playfully taps the soldiers, transforming them into vibrant, bouncing balls that clatter across the floor.

"What happened to them?" Kate urgently inquires, and you, wearing a grimace, shake your head, "They're dead. I'm sorry. Just stop it. Let me talk to him."

The Toymaker confidently struts down the center aisle among the stations, seizing the attention of everyone. Kate seizes the opportunity and commands the remaining UNIT soldiers, "On my command, open fire!"

"Take him out, take him out!"

Despite the barrage of gunfire from the UNIT troops, the bullets magically transform into a cascade of delicate rose petals, scattering around the office in a surreal display. The Toymaker, reveling in the chaos, gleefully glances atop a table as more rose petals dance in the air.

"Yellow man in Timbuktu

Colourful, both me and you

Kung Fu fighting, dancing queen

Tribal spaceman and all that's in between"

Undeterred, more UNIT soldiers step in, brandishing larger firearms. Kate urgently yells, "Get down!" Yet, instead of bullets, they too unleash a storm of rose petals towards the Toymaker, amplifying the confusion and chaos in the headquarters.

Now seated on the floor, the Toymaker whimsically creates a rose petal angel, moving his arms and legs in a playful display as he swims amidst the never-ending fall of petals, still lip-syncing to the song.

"Colours of the world (Spice up your life)

Every boy and every girl (Spice up your life)

People of the world (Spice up your life, ah)"

As the Toymaker gracefully walks away from the floral aftermath, he makes his exit, singing the last part of the song and forming a heart with his hands.

"Hai, sí, ja! Hold tight!"

With a resounding honk, he disappears into the floor, leaving the bewildered onlookers shaken and utterly confused about the bizarre turn of events.

The Doctor swiftly dashes forward, sliding to his knees with palms pressed to the floor in an attempt to catch the Toymaker, yet the space where he once stood appears empty, as if he were an illusion.

While Donna tends to Mel, you approach the Doctor, who rises to his feet. Kate's inquiry breaks the moment, "Doctor, Stargazer, who is he?"

Breathing heavily, you respond, "The Toymaker."

"How does he do that?" Shirley questions from her wheelchair, seeking understanding.

Ignoring the query, the Doctor directs urgently, "The Vlinx, speed up those scans. I need those results." He then turns to the group, nostrils flaring, and commands, "All of you, search the building. He’s still here. Where’s he gone?"

Soldiers take charge, securing the perimeter, while Shirley persists, "But how does he do it?" The Doctor, resolute, explains in a low tone, "If I told you he manipulates atoms with the power of thought, would you believe it?"

Shirley ponders for a moment before responding, "Is that what he does?"

The Doctor shakes his head, "No. You can’t fight him, Shirley. There’s nothing you can do."

A sudden noise interrupts the conversation—a bell tinkling. Hushing everyone, you urge, "Listen. Listen."

The ringing intensifies. Kate steps towards the automatic door leading to the helipad, and you follow suit. There, on the helipad, the Toymaker stands alone, dressed in an aviator outfit, ringing the doorbell. Kate exclaims, "Oh, my God. He’s got the Galvanic Beam." Reacting swiftly, you and the Doctor rush onto the helipad. The Toymaker sits on the chair of the Galvanic Beam, swinging it as he excitedly exclaims in German, "Achtung, Achtung! Backen Sie."

Kate, Donna, Shirley, and Mel, carrying the box, join you on the helipad along with the UNIT soldiers. The Toymaker continues, with his goggles on and his exaggerated German accent, "Oh, how I am liking this, the gun mit the laser und the bang und the boom."

The Doctor turns back to the group, urgently shouting, "Go back inside! Get back, get back!"

The Toymaker, however, dismisses the idea, insisting, "No, no, no, no, no. Every game is ge-needing an audience, ja."

Now it's your turn to raise your voice, "Get back inside!" Yet, the Toymaker, maintaining his defiance, sternly disagrees, "Und I said nein!" He takes aim at the glass higher up the building, shattering it. The team below reacts with startled cries as you and the Doctor shoot furious glares at the Toymaker.

Removing his goggles, the Toymaker switches to a British accent, calmly stating, "Now we can all have some fun."

Kate steps forward, undeterred and unafraid, confronting the Toymaker with a determined gaze. "Where are my staff? The beam had a pilot, and the armourer and the ground staff. Where are they?"

“I think they're still falling,” the Toymaker replies, and then a faint thud in the distance is followed by the sound of glass shattering.

The Doctor bares his teeth, anger etched across his face as he stomps forward and confronts the Toymaker, “I don't understand why you're so small!” The Toymaker’s face shifts into a frown, his features scrunching up as the Doctor continues his impassioned confrontation, “You can turn bullets into flowers. Think of the good you could do. So tell me why you don't!”

The Toymaker responds with resounding sureness, "You know full well this is merely a face concealing a vastness that will never cease, because your good and your bad are nothing to me. All that exists is to win or to lose."

“And you know full well that I've had many faces, containing something far more,” the Doctor begins. You inch closer to him as he grabs your hand, offering the Toymaker a compelling invitation, “So come with us. Leave this tiny world. We can take your games back to the stars. We can play across the cosmos. We can be... Celestial.”

You watch as the Toymaker’s gaze shifts between the two of you, “The Time Lords, and the Toymaker?”

You nod, extending your hand, “Infinite games.”

A moment of anticipation hangs in the air as you hope for his acceptance. However, the Toymaker's expression shifts to one of indifference as he uses the controller of the Galvanic Beam. Turning to survey London, he begins, “And yet…” The soldiers cautiously retreat as the Toymaker observes the destruction and chaos engulfing the city.

“I have fallen in love with humanity. This world is the ultimate playground. All of the sport, the matches, the medals, the gambling, and the anger, and the children shackled to their bedrooms with their joysticks and their buttons. You make games out of bricks falling upon other bricks. You are exceptional,” the Toymaker remarks, and you signal the troops to halt their advance. The Toymaker gasps, “And then there are the mind games. Oh, the dating and ghosting, the deceit and the control. You make me dizzy. I am in no hurry to leave this place.”

He swivels the turret around, a maniacal glint in his eye as he chuckles, “We can play Grandma's Footsteps.” He gleefully fires at the soldiers' feet, forcing them to hastily retreat, "And Off-Ground Touch."

“Ah! Stop, stop, stop, stop!” You plead helplessly as the Toymaker, a sinister smirk on his face, persists in aiming the Galvanic Beam at your companions. He remarks, "Shooting ducks. Who's up next? The companion? The soldier? The scientist? The orphan?"

The Doctor charges ahead, bellowing and thumping his chest defiantly, "Your fight is with me!" The Toymaker directs the beam towards the Doctor, declaring, "And you owe me! One more ga—"

His words abruptly cease as the Toymaker unleashes the Galvanic Beam, piercing through the Doctor's torso. A gut-wrenching scream escapes your lips, and you desperately attempt to rush towards him, only to be forcefully restrained by Donna and Kate. Helplessly, you bear witness to the Doctor's anguished ordeal.

The Toymaker proclaims, “I played the first game with one Doctor. I played the second game with this Doctor. Therefore, your own rules have decreed I play the third game with the next Doctor.” As the beam deactivates, you extricate yourself from Donna and Kate's grasp, hastening to reach your Doctor who has descended to his knees on the ground. Regeneration energy begins to shimmer around him, and you sniffle as you cradle him close, feeling his feeble arm wrap around you.

Tears stream down your face as you murmur, "Hey, hey... I'm right here."

You sense his touch, brushing away your tears as he utters, "Hello, my sweet Stargazer... I’ve been alone for so long. Oh, how I've missed you." A resonant sniff escapes you as you reply, "I'm so sorry. For running. For leaving. For everything, I’m sorry.”

He softly hushes you, "No. None of that. It's not your fault." A wistful smile gently paints his face. "I love you." You release a sob, "I love you too."

"Marry me?" The Doctor proposes, managing to flash you a boyish grin. You can't help but emit a weak laugh, "Right now?"

"Whenever, wherever you like. Just say yes."

"You already know I’d say yes, you idiot!" you retort.

"Say it, please," he murmurs, and you nod as tears continue to fall from your cheeks, "Of course, I'll marry you. I’ll marry you as many times as you want. As many lifetimes as you want."

As the regeneration energy glows brighter, Donna steps forward, yelling loudly to the Toymaker, “He's not dying alone. You can do what you like to me. I'm going to be with them both.”

“And so am I,” Mel declares, setting the box down and approaching the other side of the Doctor along with Donna.

The Toymaker allows it, nodding, “Handmaidens.”

“It's okay,” Donna says, and the Doctor responds, “It's not dying.” Donna nods in understanding, adding, “I know. But…”

Mel smiles as she interjects, “You're going to be someone else. It doesn't matter who because every single one of you is fantastic.”

The Doctor’s eyes glaze as he feels the regeneration energy glow brighter and stronger, surging throughout his body, “It's time. Here we go again. Allons-y!”

The energy fizzles out, and the Doctor hasn't changed his face, leaving you all blinking in confusion as he lets out an, “Um.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows as Donna asks, “What... What's happening?”

Looking to you, the Doctor asks in an even more confused tone, “Could you... pull?”

With your mouth agape and wide-eyed, you inquire, “Could I... what?” The Doctor looks to Mel and Donna to his left, saying, “And you.”

“What do you mean?” Mel asks, and the Doctor blinks as stands up and replies, “Pull! Just pull each way. I don't know. It feels different this time.” The three of you begin to pull in each way, and the Doctor exclaims, “Ow! Oh.”

Regeneration surges and flares up once more, and out pops the head and shoulders of the new Doctor, number 15. You all gasp in shock, and you're the first to say, “What?”

“What?” Donna and Mel ask in unison.

“What?!” The Toymaker exclaims.

“No way,” the other part of the Doctor exclaims, and your Doctor responds with glee, “You're me.”

The new regeneration of the Doctor smiles, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he says, “No, I'm me. I think I'm really, really me. Oh, ho-ho, I am completely me! Don't just stand there, push!”

Your Doctor poses the question once more, "Do what?" to which his other half retorts, "Push."

"What— Does this work?" Your Doctor questions and the new one responds with a laugh, "I don't know."

They part ways entirely, each now clad in half of the other one's attire. Your Doctor sports the undershirt, vest, and trousers, and is left barefoot. Meanwhile, as far as your memory serves, the 15th regeneration of the Doctor is now adorned in a button-up shirt, tie, sneakers, and underwear. You purse your lips as you try to hide your smile and feel a warmth spreading out your face as you realize your Doctor isn’t wearing any underwear. You decide to pocket that bit of information for later.

A surge of joy and laughter fills the air as the 15th Doctor exclaims, "Hello!" Arms outstretched in a welcoming embrace, he moves towards your Doctor, continuing to laugh, "So good to see you! So good!"

Turning his attention to you, a broad grin decorates his face as he rushes towards you, enveloping you in a warm hug and lifting you off the ground, spinning you around. A yelp of surprise and glee escapes you, and you notice a twinge of jealousy in your Doctor's expression. However, you shoot him a look, a gentle reminder that they are one and the same.

The 15th Doctor lets out hearty laughter before addressing everyone, "Now, someone tell me what the hell is going on here."

"Excuse me. Sorry, but..." Kate begins, and Shirley interjects, "How did that happen?"

"Bi-generation. I have bi-generated! There's no such thing. Bi-generation is supposed to be a myth, but... look at me.” He chuckles and stretches as his joints crack, “Yeah, myth, myth, myth," the 15th Doctor declares with a jolly tone, turning to Mel and inquiring, "Mel, what do you think?"

Mel smiles widely as she gazes at the 15th Doctor, "I think you're beautiful."

Your Doctor furrows his brow, questioning, "Still beautiful?"

"Yeah," Mel responds.

Donna, taking in the new Doctor with a rich deep ebony skin tone, asks, "Do you come in a range of colours?"

To which all the Time Lords reply with a resounding, "Yes."

You hear the Toymaker clear his throat and begin, pointing the beam at the two Doctors, "If I can interrupt... Behold the game of the Time Lords. A dummy who dies and doubles and dies and doubles. I could play this for 100 years. I'll have vast meadows of Doctors dying over and over again, and I'll never get bored because…"

The two Doctors step forward in unison, declaring, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's face sours, and he tosses his goggles, shifting into a frown. "But there's two of you."

Your Doctor asserts, "I'm the Doctor," and the 15th remarks, "And I'm the Doctor."

Your Doctor smirks, "And according to the rules, you can't say no."

The Toymaker stammers, "But that's cheating."

“How?” both Doctors say simultaneously, and your Doctor continues, “It's your game, and you did this.”

The Toymaker is at a loss for words, stammering, "But…"

Your Doctor smiles, "You doubled us."

“So, who am I marrying then—” You interject, and the two Doctors exclaim, “Me!”

Your eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening in response. "Y’know what, that seems like an issue for later."

The Toymaker interjects, stating, "I accept your challenge." Stepping off the Galvanic Beam, your Doctor commands everyone in a commanding voice, "Get back." In compliance, everyone takes a few steps back.

“Moments like these are a joy, when someone thinks they can outwit the maker of the games. Do you think a grand total of two can cause me to shiver when I've played against the Guardians of Time and Space and shrank them into voodoo dolls? Name your challenge, Doctor,” the Toymaker says, and you mockingly yawn, eliciting a glare from him.

“You said it. The first game ever,” the 15th Doctor states, and your Doctor finishes his thoughts, “The ball.”

The Toymaker conjures a ball from thin air and declares, “Catch? Of course, before we begin, there is one thing to remember. It's a simple game, really, but I think…”

Suddenly, the Toymaker hurls the ball towards your Doctor at an astonishing speed, making contact with his chest just as he finishes his sentence, “…if you drop it, you lose.”

Your Doctor catches the ball, releasing a deep breath, “Nice.”

The ball is tossed around in a flurry. You can only watch as it keeps getting passed and tossed. Eventually, the 15th Doctor throws it extremely far to your Doctor, causing him to tumble and dive to catch it from the 15th.

Your Doctor looks at the 15th with wide eyes, his chest puffing out breaths as he exclaims, “Hey! I'm on your side!”

15th sheepishly replies, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!”

The game of catch persists, and you nervously bite your nails as you observe the trio. There are numerous extreme throws and catches, accompanied by near misses, until the 15th Doctor imparts enough spin on the ball. It glances off the Toymaker's fingers, tumbling over the building's edge.

The Toymaker pants in disbelief, beginning, "But—"

“We won!” Your Doctor asserts, and the 15th adds, “We did it. Fair game. You lost.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, the Toymaker stammers, “No, but I think you'll find…”

Your Doctor steps forward, declaring, “Best of three. And my prize, Toymaker, is to banish you from existence forever.”

The Toymaker protests, “No! But I'm... It's not…” Suddenly, he starts to flatten and fold, “You can't... But I…” Mel steps forward and brings out the box as the Toymaker yelps, “Not fair. Please. My legions are coming. Argh!” He folds up into a square and drops into the box, which slams shut.

Kate seizes the box by the handles, instructing the soldier, “Take it to the deepest vault and bind it in salt.” The soldier promptly responds, “Yes, ma'am.”

Shirley and Kate disengage their Zeedexes. Kate turns to Shirley, saying, “Shirley, tell Geneva we're in full resus. Tell every base to follow Green Shoot protocols, full liaison.” She then addresses the soldier, “Rudi, I'll want the names of all those staff.”

Your attention shifts to your Doctor, standing at the edge of the helipad. The wind tousles his brown, spiky hair as he surveys the destruction wreaked upon London by the Toymaker. Approaching him, you grasp his hand and offer, “Hey, we did it.”

“But how many died down there?” The Doctor frowns, his tone heavy with sorrow. The 15th and Donna approach, with Donna reassuringly stating, “That's not your fault.”

The 15th points out, “You can't save everyone.”

Your Doctor pouts, “Why not?”

The 15th Doctor pulls both you and him into a hug, soothingly saying, “Come here. I've got you. Yeah? It's okay. I'm here.”

As you let out a sigh of relief, exhausted to the events that occurred. Your mind wanders and you smile. This love will intimately understand you, resonating on certain levels as if it has always existed—a deep-seated yearning your soul has carried, anticipating the reunion with its heart, perpetually poised to return home to the facets of itself discovered in another being. It serves as a poignant reminder that hope can emanate from the fingertips of another human being, nestled within the layers of the uncharted aspects waiting to be unveiled.

You and the group re-enter the building, abandoning the helipad to solitude, save for a lone sentry stationed at the entrance. A faint echo of laughter seems to linger in the air, leaving you with an inexplicable sense of dread resonating from a distant place.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, SUITE 17, LONDON – DAY 2023

INSIDE THE TARDIS

You observe as the Doctor maneuvers around the console, guiding his other incarnation through the intricacies. "That's the petrolink shatterfy compensator, moved from there to there. Hyperdynes. Er... fluid links, obviously," he explains, his hands deftly pointing out the components.

Your Doctor halts abruptly, stumbling over his words as he gazes at the version of himself standing on the bridge. "And, well, you know... things. But, er... how's it going to work? You and me. This is great, I think. Is it? But... How do we both...?”

“One thing you need in this place is a chair,” the 15th Doctor remarks, and you arch your eyebrows, glancing at your Doctor, who responds, “I'll be all right.”

The 15th shakes his head, emphasizing, “No, you're thin as a pin, love. You're running on fumes.”

You and Donna both sigh in agreement, stating, “That's what we keep saying.”

“I'm just... post-bi-generation,” your Doctor attempts to justify, but the 15th Doctor interjects, “Ha! It's more than that. Our whole lifetime. That Doctor that first met the Toymaker never, ever stopped. Put on trial, exiled, Key to Time, all the devastation of Logopolis.”

“Adric,” your Doctor says with a tinge of sadness, and the 15th nods, “Adric.”

Your Doctor's expression shifts to a sorrowful pout as he reminisces about the days and tragic events. “River Song. All the people we lost. Sarah Jane has gone. Can you believe that for a second?”

“I loved her,” your Doctor admits, and the 15th agrees, “I loved her. And Rose. But the Time War, Pandorica, Mavic Chen. We fought the Gods of Ragnarok, and we didn't stop for a second to say, ‘what the hell?’”

Your Doctor shakes his head, “But you're fine.” He gestures to his newly regenerated self, and the 15th says, “I'm fine because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords. We're doing rehab out of order.”

You then gently interject, “He's saying you need to stop.”

Your Doctor shakes his head in disagreement, stating, “I don't know how.”

Donna takes a step forward, her words measured, “Well, I can tell you. Cos you know what I did when you went flying off in your blue box, Spaceman? I stayed in one place, and I lived day after day after day.”

“It would drive me mad,” your Doctor admits. You nod in agreement, stepping closer to him, your hand gently holding his cheek. “Same here. I’ll be honest, it was difficult… at first. Yeah. It does. But you keep on going. That’s what makes it special. You won’t exactly know what’s going to happen. And that's the adventure. The one adventure you've never had. Because I've... I've worked out what happened. The Flux caused a reset in the universe, no longer making my entire existence a threat to everyone. Then you changed your face, and then you found me. Do you know why?”

The Doctor is wide-eyed as you gaze into his chocolate brown eyes, and you give him a soft smile, “To come home.”

“Do you mean... he flies off?” The Doctor says as he glances at the 15th Doctor, tears welling up. “But I could never let the Tardis go. Never. It would hurt.”

The 15th Doctor approaches you two and leans against the console, stating, “Yeah, but... bi-generation has never happened before.” An idea begins to form in his mind, “What if...? What if!”

Eagerly, he dashes to the walkway, producing a 'test your strength' mallet. “What if the Toymaker's domain is still lingering? Just for a few seconds more, we're in a state of play. Oh! So maybe…”

The 15th Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, and the three of you follow after him. Shirley and Mel are waiting in the suite.

Excitedly, the 15th Doctor exclaims, “Hey! Watch this, watch this. Watch, watch, watch, watch. Stand back. Stand back. Go on, that's it, Donna. Oh! Wish me luck.”

“What for?” The Doctor asks, to which the 15th responds with a big smile, “We won the game. You get a prize, honey, and here is mine!” He swings at the side of the TARDIS, knocking a second one out. An exact duplicate stands on the left side of the original one.

“Ta-da!” The 15th shows off in a sing-songy voice before whispering to the TARDIS, “I am so sorry.”

Donna expresses with glee, “That is completely nuts,” and the 15th Doctor laughs in agreement.

The Doctor pushes the other TARDIS doors open and looks down. He unfolds a ramp, saying, “Oh, look! Oh, that's not bad. Wheelchair accessible.”

“At last! You finally caught up with the 21st century!” Shirley smiles, laughing.

“Yeah. Go on,” the 15th Doctor says to your Doctor, who steps inside to glance around as you wait outside. After a minute, he walks out, goes into the original TARDIS, and looks around. You watch as the 15th Doctor gives you a wink before stepping inside his TARDIS, and you let out a snort.

You see your Doctor exit the TARDIS and realize the 15th Doctor is missing. “Where is he? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”

You follow your Doctor as he pushes open the other TARDIS doors, saying, “You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”

The 15th Doctor mischievously grins as he replies, “As if I would ever do that. Come here. Come here, come here, come here, come here.” He hugs him and kisses you on the cheek, saying, “Look after him, you know? Now, you three, if you don't mind, there is a great big universe out there calling, and I've got to get going. So off you pop, old man.”

Your Doctor shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes, “Oh. You're the old man. You're older than me.”

Donna nods in agreement, “Actually, that is true. He's younger because you came after him. So you're the older Doctor.”

The 15th Doctor rolls his eyes playfully, teasing, “Okay, kid. I love you. Get out!” He sets the Time Rotor in motion, and Donna rushes out of the TARDIS, yelping, “I'm not doing that again!”

Observing the Doctors salute each other, you hear him say to you, “I’ll see you soon.” Then the two of you exit.

Stepping into Suite 17, the group gathers as the Doctor remarks, “Shirley, I don't suppose you've seen this before. I don't see it often myself. Stand by.”

“Where's he going?” Mel asks, and the Doctor replies, “Everywhere.”

You watch as the TARDIS dematerializes, and you catch the soft whisper of the Doctor, “Good luck.”

DONNA’S GARDEN — DAY, 2023

The TARDIS is parked in Donna’s garden, a testament to the new chapter you and the Doctor were embarking on—cohabiting. Presently, the entire family savored a meal al fresco beneath the pergola adorned with wisteria in full bloom. The Doctor sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your thigh, a constant desire to connect, to be near.

“Right. The cast-iron pot is the vegan. Ta-da! And the one with the flowers is the chicken,” Shaun declares, placing the dish on the table. You hum and nod, and Shaun adds, “I think.”

Sylvia chimes in, pointing to the dish, “And this is cauliflower cheese, which doesn't really go with anything, but it was there.” Rose nods as they begin to take their seats.

Donna raises a hand, signaling for attention, “Anyway, shush, please, for the eyebrow story.”

“Oh, yes. So... this species only communicated with their eyebrows. I thought, I can do that,” the Doctor says with an unusually happy tone, a rare occurrence that visibly lifts the weight from his shoulders. He sits straighter, and with a flourish of his eyebrows, he continues the story, “So I'm stood there on this clifftop and I went... ‘I mean you no harm. I come in peace. I am your friend.’”

“Am I late?” Mel's voice breaks through, and you lift your head to see her sheepishly saying, “Sorry. The door was open. You don't mind?”

Sylvia dismisses her concern, cooing, “Oh, you're family, darling. Sit down.”

You glance at Mel and ask, “Did you drive?”

“No. I got a lift off a zingo,” Mel replies as she takes a seat next to you, prompting cheers and laughter from the group.

“A zingo!” Donna exclaims, and Sylvia smiles, “Oh, how strange.”

The Doctor continues his eyebrow-raising tale, “So, she looked at me, the Warrior Queen of the Felooth, and she said, ‘Good. And now... you will marry me.’ I said, ‘What?!’ And she pushed me off the cliff!”

Sylvia leans in over the table, asking, “But is it true, though? Is it really true?”

The Doctor looks to you, humming and shrugging, “Mmm…” You playfully shove his shoulder, and he kisses your cheek.

“We could always go in the Tardis and find out,” Rose suggests, but Shaun interjects, “Don't you dare.”

Donna sternly tells her daughter, “You are grounded until the Doctor feels better. Don't go sneaking off to Mars.”

“Again,” Rose says, and Donna goes wide-eyed, asking, “What does that mean?” She pointedly looks at the two of you.

“Oh, no. It was just once. Oh, you're in trouble,” the Doctor says, and you wince.

Mel explains, “They took me to New York last week. The Gilded Age. It was amazing.”

The Doctor shrugs, “Well, yeah. We just can't turn down my favourite niece.”

Rose smiles, “Ah! Niece. I like that.”

“Well, that's what you are. With my best friend, my brother-in-law, the evil stepmother…” The Doctor says, and Sylvia chuckles, “Oh, I have barely begun.” The Doctor continues, “..and Mad Aunty Mel.”

Mel chuckles, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

You all toast happily, exclaiming, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

The Doctor then places down his glass before lifting your left hand, now adorned with a gold band inscribed in Gallifreyan. He kisses your knuckles and says lovingly, “And of course, my soon-to-be wife.”

You can’t help but smile as you look at him. With him, you just open. The cost of staying fortified and hidden away becomes too high. With the Doctor, you lay down your arms. You let love rush in. You let it wash over you. You crack your shell, exposing your heart to this world, trusting that you are worthy of being seen there.

The Doctor then remembers, “And Grandad! Where is he?”

Sylvia says, “Oh, he's off shooting moles.”

The sound of a shotgun resonates, and you hum as the Doctor says, “Don't worry, I gave the moles a forcefield. I love the moles.”

Donna raises her eyebrows, asking, “You love the moles?”

The Doctor grins, “I love them. But here we are, Grandad and all. Who'd have thought? I ended up with a family.”

You feel the weight of his words settling in the cracks of your bones as your hearts thump in the silence. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling him kiss the top of your head.

Shaun suddenly exclaims, “Oh, my God, I got it wrong. The vegan one is in the flowers.”

Rose groans, tossing her fork on the plate, “Urgh! What am I eating?”

“Oh... Don't worry.” Shaun tries to help. “We'll just… give it to Grandad.” Sylvia adds, “Don't make a fuss. Pass me your plate.”

Donna looks between the two of you, smiling as she says, “You don't have to stay forever.”

The Doctor glances at you, and you smile up at him, saying, “We'll see.”

“Do you miss it? Out there?” Donna asks.

The Doctor looks around, realizing he’s surrounded by love as he says, “The funny thing is, I fought all those battles for all those years, and now I know what for. This. I've never been so happy in my life.”

This love infuses honey into the core of your being; it's akin to a gentle warmth seeping into the very marrow of your bones. Witnessing how it learns about you, fights on your behalf, and remains steadfast through life's storms by your side, you're reminded of the profound connection often overshadowed by the preference for distance over depth in this world. It's a reminder that hope emanates from the touch of another, concealed within the layers of undiscovered facets. You now comprehend that love was always intended to be gentle, always meant to be tender, as evidenced by the Doctor intertwining his fingers with yours, accompanied by a bright grin. Your bones are safe, and your heart can rest assured it belongs to him. Your world transforms, cradled by the comforting embrace that is the Doctor.

“So,” Donna begins as she chews her food and swallows as he smiles at her best friends, “When’s the wedding?”

TAGLIST:

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @matthew-lilards @a-dash-of-cinnamon @imthedoctorlove @scoliobean @allophonicmess @mirkwoodshewolf @jaziona92 @melloww-akira @crowleythesexydemon @pedrettilov3r @nsainmoonchild @h-l-vlovesvintage @jaziona92 @1potato2rulethemall @jesssimblrorwhatever @prettyboigenius @ladygrimmx

[blushedarmybunny]

After his Shadow || Jeon Jungkook x Fem Reader

♡ Pairing: Athlete!Jeon Jungkook x fem reader

♡ Word count: 2.6 k

♡ Genre: Angst (m), toxic relationship.

♡ summary:

He is the most loved athlete in Korea, and you are just his girlfriend until after four years you decide to leave him and is the best and at the same time the worst thing you could have ever done.

♡ a/n: I hope you like it, anon that requested this piece i made it angsty bc that is the vibe i got, idk but I maybe write a part 2 please comment if you want.

PART 2 IT'S UP

There is no feeling to describe how dysfunctional your personal relationship with Jeon Jungkook is and how it casts so many shadows on your own personal demons. You can barely recognize yourself even when you are detoxicating from all the shit you had to put up in the past 4 years. After breaking up with him you supposed to feel free but instead a sense of dread crept out behind you every day leaving you with lack of sleep and shakings all over your body, or as they call it anxiety.

You’d been hiding from everyone, deep rooted in your grandfather lake house which you had the spare key, that’s where you had been laying in bed for the past week and a half, just answering your mom’s text and eating less to not have the necessity of going out for groceries. Yes, you were far from Korea but you know that they will find you, they always find you.

The press, the obsessive fans or just about anyone that follows up the sports stars in the world of football, because Jeon Jungkook is big, more than that he is a superstar well loved by the public especially, his fans. He is very young but also very talented and has too much fame and power to the point he is almost untouchable. In his own country he is almost a god, no Korean football player can dream to become as big as him, whenever he is outed somewhere the traffic literally stops while crowds of people gather following his pace, after all he is the team leader who brought South Korea their first world cup, his team mates were now globally famous because of this and after the absolute pandemonium that was taking the glory to his country Jeon Jungkook became an athlete legend.

Every girl would throw herself at his feet, so everyone was shocked when he publicly announced his relationship with you four years ago, you had no idea what were you doing back them, all you can do now is regret your naivety. You had some idea that your new boyfriend was wealthy but everything progressed fast, too fast, to realize the extend of his fame. You suddenly were kissing for the first time and next thing you know is him posting on his insta that you two are boyfriend and girlfriend and then it hit you. You blame yourself for not google him before accepting going out with him after a casual party in a bar, it was so stupid but not more than the face the press photographed the day after the post, you were cluelessly walking down the street trying to grab some coffee and then some people run to your side with cameras in their hands, flashing lights all over, such a confusing situation that you ran back to your apartment and demand explanations from him.

From there it was a wild ride, crazy calls from every person you knew, your 3-digit following account rising up to the six digits on the same day, Jungkook stopping by so casually that it must have raise an alarm inside you but it didn’t, it fucking didn’t.

So that brought your path to what is your life in this moments, a full grown women hiding under the blankets deleting every picture on her phone, dried eyes, no tears just dark circles and a undecipherable expression. Suddenly you came across a blurry picture from way back, cheeks fuller and a bubbly smile, it was cute at the moment but the people had tore apart every single detail of your face that you can’t  longer find anything nice about that moment of your life. That’s why you didn’t bother to check any of your socials, the aftermath of the breakup was too ugly and you were the villain, you were always the villain.

Because Jeon Jungkook was Korea’s national treasure, not only nationals but his fans all over the world would defend him before anything and anyone, fame was a weapon that could be used against you and he realized that very soon into the relationship, you did something that made him upset? He can post some pathetic tweets leaving some hints. You try to push back from his ‘love’ and ‘protection’? he misses goals at an important match and points out to press after that he has been feeling ‘emotionally unstable’. God forbids you ask to take some time from the relationship because he would cancel a match making a social media circus and you being guilt tripped and publicly shamed back to him.

All of that just to everyday being gaslighted by everyone in how lucky you truly are for being his girlfriend, it was a sick joke.

“And what the fuck is this? Are you out of your fucking mind, Yn?” Jungkook yelled at you while he showed you a picture of you in your best friend’s boyfriend birthday, you had know him since uni, your best friend and him were engaged, you had known him for so many years that you greeted him with a hug  and that was exactly what you were doing in the picture, but the angle, oh that damn angle made you look like you were kissing each other.

“You tell me you are in a trip with your friends and this is what you fucking do? I look like the biggest fool in the news!” Jungkook sentenced while you look at him with concern.

“I was just hugging him!” you fight back, his eyes made an imponent statement at your direction.

“Why are you hugging another man? How is that proper, tell me?” his ironic tone made an echo through your head.

“You really baffle me, I hugged him because he is my friend and because I wanted to? Who you think you are to control me?” you snapped back at his rhetoric but he didn’t seem pleased at your response.

“You rub your tits in another man’s chest and when I don’t like that you are the one who gets mad? You truly are something…” Jungkook scoffed  “Can you see that you and your so called ‘friend’ is making me look bad?”

“This is so fucking tiring, what are we exactly discussing here? I told you I was hugging a friend end of conversation”

“Is that so? You don’t care then? When people laugh in my face and later call you a slut?” Jungkook said bitterly, he was mocking you, because he knew how things worked in his world.

“You know this is exactly why I think we don’t make sense, you seem to take pleasure in making me doubt myself and making everyone dislike me!” you can feel the tears wanting to come out but have to be strong.

“You need to know your place, Yn, you know you are in the wrong when the crowd it’s calling you out, if they are calling you a slut then…”

You hit him across his face, it was no use because your strength could not really hurt him, but it did caught his attention.

“it’s not fair, and never will be, they are on your side always and you know that!” you exclaimed clenching your teeth, Jungkook at the sight of your frustration he smiled.

“that’s right it’s not fair, knowing that information and you still dare to slap me? Don’t you know my next match is in two hours I have to leave this apartment in a few minutes and when they see the pictures leaving this apartment upset, a mark on my cheek and later a low performance on the match, what they will think of you?” Jungkook asked still smiling, you gasped in horror.

“Yeah exactly, now apologize to me and I will consider to put a mask when I go outside” there he  was being in control again, he had you cornered, he made you small.

“I’m sorry” you murmured, his hands grabbed your face making you look up to him, his eyes scanning yours, he leaned over and kissed your lips, you move your move lazily corresponding to his more passionate kiss.

“That’s right, baby, I know you are sorry”

You rolled over bed and kept deleting all you could, the memory has left you with a bitter taste in the mouth that quickly made you nauseous you run into the bathroom to throw up, while you wash up you look at your pathetic reflection in the mirror the same pathetic expression of that time when you actually tried to left him thanks to his very public indiscretion.

The aftermath of all that mess is threatening you with a head ache but the mind still goes to that specific place.

“How dare you, huh?! You bark at any man that glances at my direction but you go to a fucking yacht party kissing every model on sight!” you throw the tabloid at his face, he looks up with his big doe eyes, parting his mouth like he was just exposed without any warning, he blinked a few times perplexed “You pathetic scum I should had neve-“

“I know you are mad” he simply said and you can feel your eye twitching in disbelief. “Can you calm down a bit”

“Calm down?!”

“Look I’m sorry okay, it won’t happen again it was a stupid mistake” he brushed off the whole situation like it was nothing and you were starting to lose it.

“Mistake? Are you fucking kidding me? There are videos, Jungkook, you seem pretty fucking chill while those bitches are sitting on your lab…”

“Yn…”

“Then you kissed them like it was the most fucking natural thing to do…”

“Oh my god, stop, it’s not that big of a deal, I apologized!”

“And you expect me to accept it?”

“Those girls nobody knows them, but you are my girlfriend, aren’t you?” he asked with an irritated expression.

“I don’t understand you, Jungkook, I really don’t, let’s just break up that way you can kiss all the models you want” you responded completely tired of his bullshit.

“You are still mad, I see” he said standing up and walking towards you.

“Don’t go near me!” you warned him but he keeps coming close until he is in front of you then he takes your hips and pulls you down while he takes a seat in the couch, you end up in his thigh.

“I know baby, you must be angry” said affirming you in his leg, you were only wearing a skirt so your underwear was the only barrier against his muscular thigh, you got nervous. “You don’t have anything to be jealous about, you want this don’t you? You saw me in the video doing this and now you want me to take you in that way?” he asked looking at your eyes and your lip trembling he grabbed your hips and move you hitting that precious spot making you pant.

“that’s right baby” Jungkook said an erection forming in his shorts “I know you want to move” he said to you with a cheeky smile you closed your eyes and nodded you felt how he spank you with dry sound, the wetness now lubricating Jungkook’s thigh, he always looked good in uniform.

“how do you call me?” he asked while pulling up his shirt showing his abs and taking out his growing cock jerking it a few times, he spanked your ass once again when you didn’t respond.

“…Daddy” you managed to say between moans, now fully moving your hips in his thigh while he jerks up, you did not last much longer and while you had your orgasm the grin that Jungkook gave you was enough to sink you after your high, back into humiliation.

“You fucking slut, ugh you’re so hot” he said between his heavy pants, his seed spilled all over his abdomen soon enough when you were washing up in the shower, he turned you over to wash your hair with shampoo then he suddenly whispered in your ear:

“While I’m right here taking care of you I still can’t bother to remember those girls names or faces” he said while he continued to massage your head “ you have nothing to worry about” you closed your eyes trying to believe in his words, that’s all you wanted in that moment.

Your stomach growled screaming for food, you walked to the kitchen making the laziest thing you could and swallowing it, then back to bed, that has been your routine the past week, you felt disappointed in yourself, at the end of the day that’s what Jungkook has done to you, he left you so empty.

Because of both of your natures your relationship continued to be unstable and the public was right there to enjoy the circus, every single time.

It didn’t matter how many more indiscretions Jungkook had, the media crucified you no matter what, not attending to his matches was more than enough to enrage his crazy fans. You didn’t have the basic right to be mad whenever he doesn’t do his part.

Jungkook just likes to take and take from you, his jealousy was a problem but his cheating was not.

His sexual needs mattered but your emotional needs were ignored. He acted like the perfect boyfriend in public just to treat you like you don’t exist every time his friends call him on the weekends.

Being in a relationship with Jeon Jungkook was a state of constant confusion. And it all did not make any sense on why he kept insisting in continuing the relationship, he would do anything, get mad, act upset to the public, put at risk an important match, even cry whenever you tried to bring up your need of wanting out, but with his actions Jungkook has made very clear he wasn’t done toying with you, and you had no say on it.

At the end you hit the bottom after four years of this so called ‘relationship’ and once you snapped back out of your submission you did not look back. Took your stuff and while he was busy in another freaky party in Japan, you flew back home taking serious steps into going incognito. Yes, Jungkook called you like a thousand times but nothing that a block can’t resolve. You announced him your break up  in a letter that you send him via text before blocking him, then you made it public via twitter simply putting:

Jungkook and I are not in a relationship anymore, please respect my privacy.

And after that you had been trying to hide from the rest of the world, you had a vague notion of how the rest of world reacted at least in the first days, Jungkook fought with a photographer outside of a bar completely drunk, he made very alarming tweets, it was all over the news, but you did not know the details or bother to dig deeper, his fans almost throwing a celebration party but at the same time blaming you for everything wrong that is happening to Jungkook.

You did not judge yourself on how you ended things with him either, you were kinda running away, but it was the best option in where he didn’t get to manipulate you or black mail you.

At the end of the day you were the only person who can pick yourself up from the ground, and make whatever you want your life to be, and with Jungkook out of the way, who can stop you?

There is only one way up, right?

[mrcavill88]

A twist in time

Pairing: Captain America Chris Evans x Male Reader x Superman Henry Cavill

Summary: A sudden ravaging force made its rampage through space and time, causing an unwanted rupture within the greater omniverse. The citizens of earth are left broken, sorrowful, and desperate as it seems all hope is lost. The only faith left in humanity stands within two veteran superheroes, both from different timelines. They two are on the verge of giving up as Earth is expected to reach its end, but a certain someone might be the last thing keeping them going

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy angst, mentions of family loss, mass poverty, hunger, depression, slight dirty thoughts, kissing, mugging, mentions of sexual assault, fluff, death, crying

A/N: Hey everyone! Back with another fic. I decided to try something different, this one is definitely more emotional and heavy than my other fics. Please let me know, in the comments, if you guys like this style! Thanks!

*FLASHBACK 6 months prior to the tragedy*

"Three, two, one- Happy birthday dad!" you exclaimed as the people around you cheered and hollered in celebration of your wonderful father's 55th birthday. The atmosphere was ebullient and blissful. You were surrounded by all your friends and loved ones, what could possibly go wrong?

Your life was quite typical, nothing eccentric ever happened, you just lived a normal American life.

A bright smile emerged onto your father's face as he blew the candles out on his cake, such a campy, traditional method of celebrating a birthday. "Oh thank you everyone! You guys have truly made this such a memorable day for me! God bless you a-" your dad couldn't even finish his last word before the ground beneath you violently flipped and the world around you collapsed in mere seconds.

A boisterous cacophony filled the air as a great, morose darkness consumed the world as you knew it. An immense dizziness poisoned your head as you arose from the coarse ground. A feeling of deep disparity and confusion puzzled your brain as your eyes slowly became crystal pools.

How quickly the atmosphere changed

The most beloved people in your lives were all happy in one place, celebrating a great event; the next thing you know, those same people lay beside you, their bodies lifeless, clothed in debris. You tried to stand up but a stinting pain penetrated your skin, right below you kneecaps. You could only crawl your way through the endless amount of rubble and bodies that surrounded you. You made your way out the door of the party venue to see the most intriguing, yet absolutely horrifying landscape you've ever seen in your life.

Absolutely pandemonium

Skyscrapers crumbling into the ground, children frenetically running around - trying desperately to find their parents - , the sounds of screams and cries scattered across the city as fear consumed everybody's souls. The wind brushed your face as you watched the city you grew up in, fall to ruins in an instant.

"What the hell happened?" you thought to yourself, witnessing absolute global destruction.

"What exactly caused this? A natural disaster? Terrorist attacks?"

None. What happened was beyond any human's comprehension. A force of mass hatred, destruction, and hunger powered through space and time. A pan-dimensional entity, fueled by enmity, was on a quest to consume the infinite cosmos, and it has just reached Earth.

But in the midst of all this chaos, two blue figurines caught your eye as they blazed through all the commotion and falling buildings. A sudden ray of light in the ever-growing darkness, a spark of hope in an infinite pit of sorrow. You tried to make out who the two beings were, they were moving so fast, they looked, inhuman. You limped over to a stop sign, trying to make out what it was.

A more clear sight of the heroes stunned you as you could finally make out the two images: what looked to be, Captain America and Superman of all people.

But it couldn't be, right? They only existed in fiction and were just a simple idea of mankind. But it was real, it was so real. They were humanity's last hope, their only hope.

*FLASHFORWARD to present day*

You finally woke up from your everlasting slumber. After everyone you loved was gone, taking your life seemed to be the best option to end the endless cycle of pain and loss you felt. The shelter you stayed at wasn't amazing either; all the citizens of your city crammed into one facility, trying to make ends meet.

And this morning was no different from any other, the unpleasant smell of expired food painted a sour expression on your face.

You slouched off the bed, dragging your limbs to the door of your bunk. A tear staining your cheek as you reminisced the days where you were happy, when you had people you could turn to; all that down the drain, and now, you had no one.

It's been days since you left your bunk. You practically trapped yourself here, never wanting to interact with another human ever again. But your body was calling out to you: you were so fucking hungry.

Even though you grew extremely distant from the world, something fueled you to keep going, almost like, a fire igniting deep inside you. You opened the door, greeted by the cold, smoky air; something everyone was quite used to at this point.

You walked over to the bathrooms, the stench that grew on you starting to really bemuse you. The door opened and, there he was. The ever-so-infamous Captain America.

You stared into his cold blue eyes, his blond hair elegantly quaffed.

"Can I help you?" he asked, staring down at your much smaller figure.

You were completely taken aback by his daunting appearance. He was tall, around 6'2", stacked with muscle and chiseled to the bone. His eyebrow raised as he waited for your response, crossing his arms, showing off his biceps that were accented by his white tank top.

"Chris Evans?" you said, still suspicious of who the man really was.

"Who? I'm not really sure who that is. I'm surprised you don't know me" he said, questioning what you just said.

"Steve Rogers, Captain America, some might say, pleasure to meet you" holding his hand out for you to shake it.

You hesitantly shook his hand, still not completely sure what was going on.

"Pleasure to meet y-you too. H-how exactly are you, real?" you asked, staring into his eyes.

"Haha yeah I know this whole get up seems funny, but I'm 100% real. I know the muscles and the good looks are a lot, but I'm just a kid from Brooklyn, a really, really lucky kid from Brooklyn" he chuckled.

You didn't exactly know how to feel. You felt like you were in some kind of virtual reality, what else could it be? You were talking to Captain America of all people! But little did you know that reality was nothing but a concept, a toy for a greater entity to play with.

Besides the fact that you were talking to a literal superhero, something else was puzzling your brain. A feeling that coursed through your brain, the feeling of, love. You just met this man, but you wanted him, you absolutely needed him.

"Uhm, it was nice meeting you. It's great to talk to someone else that isn't Superman, oh that selfless log. But uhm, yeah, I'll see you soon. And what was your name again? I don't remember if you told me?" he said, putting on a tight muscle shirt.

"Y/N" you said, cheeks flustered bright pink.

"Y/N, I like that name. Well, see you soon, Y/N"

You watched as the man walked into the facility base, completely awestruck by his charm. If only you knew that those same feelings were rumbling inside his stomach.

You washed up, put on a new pair of clothes, and made your way to the dining hall. You were so beyond hungry, a simple bowl of cereal could fulfill your needs. You got in line at the kitchen as the lunch ladies put some gray porridge onto your plate.

The fresh look on your small face disappeared at the sight of maggots and flies crawling around your "breakfast". You sat down as you forced the muddy slop into your mouth; you felt your tastebuds begin to suffer and cry as you continued eating it.

That's when you felt a strong hand grab your shoulder, its grip tight and sturdy.

"Hey Y/N! It's me again, haha. I'd like to introduce you to my friend. This is Clark, I'm sure you know all about him, but the people in this world are pretty different from mine."

"Hey there Y/N, Clark Kent, you probably know me as Superman"

"Hi! Huge fan. But, I'm confused. I know things are pretty crazy, but how exactly did you, come to life? I mean on this Earth, I don't know about your earth, Captain America and Superman are just fictional characters" you said, still completely puzzled by the two heroes' existences

They both looked at each with great confusion and ambivalence.

"Listen, Y/N. We're just as confused as you are, nothing really makes sense right now. We've lost so many lives, lots of good people, but there's no solid explanation. From what we know, there's something, out there. We're not quite sure what it is but it's slowly destroying reality as we know it. I guess this thing caused a rift in the space time continuum, that's why we're on this planet. Everything is so, unfamiliar" Clark said, his voice a little raspy and shaken.

"We're trying everything we can to save the world but, nothing's working" Steve said, his hand rubbing his chin.

"Well I think it's best for you two to stay strong! Come on! The world's Earth's defenders can defend Earth! I believe in you guys" you said, full of optimism. You farewelled the two men before leaving the dining room. Clark's eyes immediately scanned your ass, his x-ray vision seeping through your pants.

"Oh someone's got a little crush" Steve giggled, cleaning up some of the tables.

"H-hey! That's not true! I'm loyal!" Clark yelled, sounding furious.

"Loyal to someone who's dead? Yeah that doesn't exist anymore"

All Clark saw was red, he grabbed Steve's neck, gripping it tightly as he looked Steve deep in the eye.

"You wanna repeat that Captain?" he said, his eyes starting to glow a scarlet red.

"H-hey hey! Easy man, I was just playing, don't take it personally"

Clark let go of Steve's neck, still a little irritated by Steve's ignorant comment.

"Sorry, it's just Lois' death, I can't live without her" Clark said, his eye sockets beginning to fill with tears.

Clark never talked about his feelings, he was Superman, after all. Steve was the only person who knew of Clark's depression after Lois' death.

"Hey, you have a lot to live for! You're Superman! You're my best bud, I lost my family, my best friend, my colleagues, and I still stay with my head up. And besides, Y/N is mine" Steve said, with slight sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah right. He'd choose me in a fucking heartbeat. Like you said, I'm Superman"

"Oh please! Y/N has known me for longer and don't forget, I'm Captain America!"

"Fuck you" Clark murmured under his breath.

"In your dreams"

*FLASHFORWARD 30 minutes later*

You decided to take some time outside of the facility, take a trip down memory lane, if you will. You walked out of the gates and into the city, tears filled your eyes as you saw the city you loved, smashed to pieces.

You walked on the sidewalk, the same sidewalk you took on the way to school, the memories bringing an immense bittersweet feeling.

You lived in the heart of NYC, the city was bustling with people everyday. Now the city has become a dour ruin, nothing more than debris, rubble, and smoke.

You turned the corner of a run-down building and crossed a dark alleyway. But the sight of the alleyway left you completely frozen in fear and anxiety.

Seven cloaked men were huddling up when they noticed you, their eyes went from bloodshot with drugs to lustful.

"Oh look who it is? A beautiful little doe? What're you doing in these parts?" the tallest man said, his large figure terrifying you.

You instantly ran out of the alleyway and started running back to the facility. Your adrenaline kicked in as the men chased you, getting closer and closer with each step.

You turned the corner of an abandoned hospital and just your luck: a dead end.

The men cornered you, rubbing their hands together, prepared to do horrible things to you.

"Oh what a beautiful thing you are!" the tallest man said as the men grabbed you and pinned you against the wall. Their cold, grimy hands removing your pants from your body. Slapping and fondling with your cheeks, ready to remove your last layer of protection.

The big man's hand groped your thigh as he stuck his hand down your underwear, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"P-please, hel-" you yelped out before a seeming gust of wind whipped past your face; and in an instant, the men were gone.

The daunting nightmare you were living in all disappeared.

"W-what was that?" you thought to yourself before a tall blue figure slowly descended to the ground.

"You really shouldn't be here, Y/N. There's dangerous people that might hurt you" Clark said, the slightest bit of sarcasm in his voice.

You rolled your eyes as the man nonchalantly stood there.

"Oh not even a thank you, Y/N? Come on!" he scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Thank you, Clark" you said, trying to walk out of the alleyway before a large hand strongly gripped your waist.

"I think I deserve a bigger apology, Y/N. I saved your life you know?" he whispered, his face practically inches away from yours now.

"W-what do you want from me? Are you gonna mug me too?" You tried to squirm out of his grip, your efforts completely useless against his otherworldly strength.

Your crystal blue eyes sunk into his before he connected his smooth pink lips onto yours. The atmosphere around you completely changed as the warm and tender feeling of absolute love filled the air.

He softly grabbed the back of your neck, stroking your hair as he caressed your soft, black hair. You were so in love. Delicate butterflies swarmed your stomach as the most powerful being on Earth, was passionately kissing you.

Minutes passed by, seemingly hours, nothing could ever separate you two. He pulled out, making you whine, desperate to feel the man again.

"Let's go home, baby" he kindly gestured, grabbing your waist before flying back to the city, you, completely safe and secure in his grip.

But little did you know that you and Clark had a small audience present at your love filled show. Steve

Absolute anger and envy consumed his body as he stood there, hidden behind a mailbox. Tears jerked from his eyes as his new best friend was kissing the love of his life.

"Damn it! DAMN IT!" he yelled out, kicking a trash can next to him, completely enraged. But not even Steve was alone, the city was filled with poverty; the people who ended up trapped in the city were left hopeless. Unfortunately their guardian angel never showed up.

Steve was a mess. A pit of sorrow planted in his stomach as he walked back to the facility. But a certain woman ran out from the corner, her clothes ragged and dirty.

"P-please help us! I-if you can't take me, please take my baby! I beg you!" she cried, holding up a crying baby to Steve's face.

"Get away from me! You dirty hag!" he screamed, pushing the woman.

Steve's sudden change in attitude left a toll on him; the new Steve wasn't interested in saving people, he just wanted to be with you, forever.

*FLASHFORWARD 30 minutes*

You sat in your bed, still jovial about your little moment with Clark, you really loved him.

*knock*

"Who could it be?" you thought, opening the door.

It was Steve. His angry eyebrows and tall figure scaring you as he walked into your bunk, locking the door.

"Do you know why I'm here, Y/N?"

You gulped, sweat accumulated on your forehead as you stared at the man.

"N-no"

"Why you little-" he scoffed, grabbing your collar, pulling you toward him.

"Listen, you little slut. I know what you and Clark did. Don't think he loves you, Y/N. You really think he does? He just needs a filler because Lois is gone. Don't be stupid, Y/N. You're mine! Alright?" he said, his breath hot and heavy.

Your eyes became pools as the man you trusted, respected, loved, called you a slut. You ran out of your room, your feelings hurt and betrayed. At this point, who could you turn to?

"W-wait! Y/N! Oh Fuck! What have I become?" Steve cried, his hands holding face as the love of his life just ran away from him.

You ran into Clark's bunk, knowing he was the only person you could trust right now, and hugged him.

"Y/N? W-what's wrong baby? I hate to see you cry" he said, caressing your hair.

"I-it's nothing. Steve, he's, upset. I think he saw what we did."

"Steve? Oh you're kidding!" he laughed out.

"I knew he liked you! But I didn't know he liked you, that much. Don't be sad, Y/N. Steve is just, very emotional. His emotions take over his actions and I guess he was just not feeling it. I'm sure he'll apologize, take my word for it" Clark said, hugging you tightly.

Coincidentally, Steve walked into Clark's bunk, a pile of dead flowers in his hand.

"H-hey, Y/N. Sorry about earlier. I, I don't know what came over me, I was just, really, really jealous. If you two are happy together, I shouldn't come in the way of that. I want you to be happy. Please forgive me" he kindly apologized, awkwardly giving you the flowers.

"Aw, thanks Steve. Don't stress it, I guess why you would want me" you giggled, holding the withering flowers.

"Thank you, Y/N" he said, tears falling down his cheeks as he hugged you, his grip firm and tender.

Clark watched as you two made up, a warm smile drawn on his face as happiness filled the air.

*FLASHFORWARD 2 weeks*

Things couldn't have been better between you three. You weren't necessarily dating but, you were hopelessly in love with the two men.

"Hey, Y/N! You wanna come help me serve dinner?" Steve said, gesturing his hand to you.

You walked over to the kitchen, the food quality definitely improved from back then. Everything was perfect. Even if the majority of the Earth was in ruins, you were in love.

Then it happened.

The ground flipped beneath you and Steve, the walls of the facility crumbling down, debris falling from above.

"Y/N! Y/N! Are you okay?" Steve cried out, searching for you in the midst of all the concrete.

"S-steve! I n-need help!" you groaned, as your skinny body was trapped beneath a large refrigerator.

Steve rushed to your aid, effortlessly prying the fridge off of you, scooping you up before you two ran out of the facility.

The horrors you faced outside were like none before. Whatever ruined the Earth before, was back, and it was back for more.

Everything was being sucked in. All the last remnants of Earth being eaten by this demonic force.

Steve tightly held onto you, not wanting to be separated. Your screams broke his heart as the world was nearing an end.

"Y/N!" Clark yelled, flying down from the sky, holding onto you and Steve.

"Y/N! We can't hold on much longer! We have to help the other people! We, we love you, Y/N!" they cried, before letting go of you. However safe you felt earlier, was all gone as they let go of you.

"Clark! Steve! Where are you guys! Please! Answer me!" you yelled, trying to find the two men, running around the destroyed facility.

You've been through plenty of trauma; you already witnessed the first end of the Earth but nothing was quite like this.

Your eyes looked up as the ambiguous image of the sky filled your eyes.

That's when you saw it

It was Clark and Steve. Their bodies were being hopelessly sucked into the primordial force, their efforts to fight back, completely useless.

"Y/N! We, we love you!" they yelled, before their bodies were sucked into the abyss.

"Why should I live?"

"What did I do to deserve this?"

Thoughts that filled your head as you fell to your knees. Your heart shattered into countless pieces as you just witnessed the death of the only two people you loved.

Love is bittersweet. It's good while it lasts, but, when it's gone, it hurts.

You hurt

THE END

[am-i-interrupting]

Walk Home | Vox x Alastor’s Child— OATSH

Summary: A certain TV show host comes to your book signing and stays for a while after.

“Thank you so much for the support,” you said as a young woman clutched her now signed book to her chest and walked away.

You looked up at who was next in line, ready to begin the same bullshit you’d done for the last hour and a half but stopped as you saw a familiar show host.

“Any chance I could get this signed?” he asked with a smug smile as you stared at him.

“Of course,” you told him. He handed you the book and you put your pen to the interior. “What exactly are you doing here?”

“Like I said, I’d like to get to know you,” he replied.

“Oh? And stalking me is going to get you good favor?” you asked.

“It’s not stalking if it’s public knowledge.”

“Mmm hm. I suppose that may be true.”

“Suppose? Well, I had hoped you’d say you agreed but maybe if not to that then maybe you’d agree to meeting me later this evening?”

You snapped the book shut, eyes staring into his. You extended your arm slowly, carefully, precisely to hold his attention. He leaned a bit forward to get closer to you as he took it.

“Perhaps you’ll have to stick around and find out,” you told him in a whisper.

“I think I will,” he said before walking away.

You quickly shook yourself as you turned to address the next person in line.

When the time came where everyone packed their bags, you were ready to go. Not necessarily home. You’d been sitting for hours. You wanted to move. Just standing felt like such a big relief.

You stretched your hands above your head as you began walking towards the exit. Close to the wall, leaning against it was the show host. He kicked himself upright and opened the door for you.

“So, do I have the honor of accompanying you tonight?” he asked.

“On one condition,” you told him, “you understand that I’m not looking to hand myself over to an active duty man tonight or most nights to be frank.”

“I hadn’t been under the assumption you were,” he said.

“Good because I’ve had far too many men make that mistake before. It’s why I enjoy fairer company,” you said.

“I’d imagine it gets tiring,” he said.

“It does. Now, have you been to the Pandemonium?”

“I. . .” He blinked several times. “Yes, once.”

“Good, because I need to get buzzed at the least and ideally go for a loop ‘round the bender to forgot the bore that was today,” you told him. You looked over and saw his brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing, you are just so surprising,” he said. “You’re, and I don’t mean any offense, not what you appear like.”

“Well, that’s the thing about appearances, they’re just that an appearance. This is all for show,” you said with a gesture towards your clothing. “I was raised by a serial killer and call girls, I’m far from decent.”

“I wouldn’t call you indecent company,” he said.

You rolled your eyes.

The rest of the walk and for the rest of the night the two of you made small talk. He asked you questions. You gave half truths. You asked him questioned and were given what you believed to be the same.

“You’ve had more to drink than me,” he said, words more than a bit slurred. “How are you not absolutely sloshed?”

A smile spread across your face, “I’ve got that New Orleans blood in me, honey.”

“Honey,” he repeated. “I like the way you say that.”

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough,” you said.

You began to pull your wallet out but he batted your hand away without touching. He pulled out his own instead and put some money on the bar as he stood up, leaning on the counter.

“Let me walk you home,” you told him.

“Oh? You’re walking me home now?” he asked.

“Only because you’re staggering instead of strutting,” you told him. “Now, where do you live?”

He gave you the directions and you followed him, making sure he didn’t topple on the way. Some confusion as to where he kept his spare key happened before you were able to unlock the door.

“Come in, won’t you?”

You looked out of the corner of your eye at his neighbors’ house, the porch lights on. “I’ll have to decline.”

“The neighbors don’t talk,” he said. “Even if they did, what more could they say than what a lucky man I am to have such a beautiful woman in my home?”

“You can’t know that,” you told him.

“They’ve never talked before,” he said. “Besides, we won’t do anything, just talk. I enjoy your company.”

“They don’t know that,” you replied. “Good night.”

“Sleep tight.”

You laughed to yourself. “You are far past—“ you dared to reach a finger out to poke at his forehead; he nearly tipped backwards—“tipsy.”

You reached for the doorknob and closed the door. Then you spun around and began making your way back to your hotel. There was liquor still on your lips and bit of a sashay to your hips as you walked through the dim streets.

You collapsed on the mattress still riding the combined trip of alcohol and good company.