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malgomy · 3 months

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new wave dreams

Malleus smiles. You know this smile. In all your time with him, you’ve become intimately familiar with his different smiles. This smile, you fear, spells your doom.

This smile is smug.

“I recall Grim whining about spilled milk on his fur,” he hums, expression deceivingly serene. “Just before he went to sleep, he was telling me about how you have to clean up yet another mess and how dreadfully clumsy his henchhuman is.”

Oh that snitch.

or;

You're clumsy, Ramshackle has outdated appliances, and Grim is incapable of keeping house secrets.

tags: 2.7k words, cross-posted on ao3 under the same name and the same alias. this is my first work on here cries have mercy on me when it comes to formatting, ok. title is from P.U.N.K. Girl by Heavenly

You have a problem.

An issue, a predicament, a conundrum, even.

See, you’ve developed a bit of a … bad habit. Grim is a very deep sleeper and ever since you’ve been thrown into Twisted Wonderland, you are decidedly not. Whether it be unnerving dreams that wake you up or just plain insomnia, you’ve spent many a night kept awake with only Grim’s incessant snoring to keep you company.

And well… it’s not like your stomach stops working either. So maybe it’s not uncommon for you to sneak down into the kitchen and make yourself something to eat, and maybe it’s not uncommon for you to sneak back into your comfortable bed and eat while under the covers. Maybe.

You’re so used to the sound of boisterous laughter coming from the kitchen in Ramshackle that the dead of night just makes it… eery. Not to mention, the ghosts who live in the dorm have no sense of when is a good or bad time to play a silly little prank on you. Is it really so bad to want the comfort of a wall against your back and blankets trapping your warmth while you enjoy a home cooked meal?

It’s just that… your hand might have slipped while crawling into bed and you might have spilled your cereal all over your bed while Grim was still sleeping in it. Oops.

This is where your predicament lies. Grim is now partially awake, bleary eyed and upset at having been woken up at 2 am. Your sheets, comforter, and pajamas reek of milk. Class is at 9 am sharp, and if you leave things the way they are, you have no doubt that your room will reek of spoiled milk.

Which would be fixable, except for the fact that your biggest issue is that Ramshackle doesn’t have a laundry room.

Or… well… it does. Technically. Except you may have smacked the washing machine a little bit too hard to get it started once, and it hasn’t turned on ever since. You’ve been doing your laundry in Heartslaybul with either Ace or Deuce accompanying you ever since.

But that is definitely not an option right now! Let alone the fact that Riddle would undoubtedly take your head if you snuck around and did laundry in his dorm at 2 am, you know for a fact that Ace would have a field day if he found out why your sheets were soaked with milk at this time of night. No, Heartslaybul is certainly not an option.

Which leaves… no options at all. You suppose you could just use the kitchen sink… or maybe the bathtub?

“I’m not cleaning this,” Grim grumbles. He’s rubbing his eyes and lets out a big yawn. Despite his insistence, he really is more catlike than anything else you’ve ever seen. When he looks up at you with his big blue eyes, you can’t help but forget how annoying he can be. Aw, now you feel bad.

“I wasn’t gonna make you, d’worry,” you mumble back. There’s no other option, you suppose. You begin peeling the sheets off the bed. It’s heavy, and it doesn’t help that your movements have a certain grogginess to them. Just your luck, you’re starting to get tired after you already made a mess. “I’m gonna head downstairs to clean this, you go back to sleep.”

Grim doesn’t respond to you, so you assume that he nodded off even without your prompting. When you make it downstairs though, you almost trip over him running right past you.

“We’ve got a visitor!”

You almost drop your clothes to rush over to the window. From your spot in the lounge, you can’t make out what Grim is seeing. “Huh? Who?”

“Who else visits ‘n the middle of the night?”

The clothes are unceremoniously dumped in the sink and you rush to the window. Sure enough, green sparks fly around a familiar silhouette underneath your porch.

Talk about bad timing. “I can’t just leave him out there, can I?”

Grim just shrugs up at you. Ugh, your bleeding heart. How could you leave a friend out in the cold when he came all the way just to see you? The ghosts would scold you for even entertaining the thought.

With strengthened resolve, you glance out the window one more time. Sure enough, Malleus is still standing on your porch. He’s staring intently at the doorknob, but as soon as you move the blinds, his eyes meet yours.

You don’t even give him the opportunity to knock.

“And what are you doing out here, unsupervised in the dead of night?” You say in lieu of a greeting. You grin up at him and open the door wide as an invitation to come in. Malleus slips into the foyer, but not without dramatics of his own.

“Might it be that I’m unwelcome into your humble abode?” He sighs, forlorn and melancholic. You’d almost believe that he was hurt, if not for the fond smile he gives to you and Grim and the airiness of his voice. “I suppose I ought to make myself scarce, and hope the loneliness of my dearest friend’s rejection doesn’t take my weary heart.”

“We can’t have you dying yet, now can we? Your retainers would have my head, I fear.” You flick the lights on, and lead the way further in. “Not to mention your family — I can’t have an army sent after me at my delicate age.”

“Oho! So all you care about is your own life? Careful, should you offend me too much, I may very well send the armed guards after you regardless.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics. He’s too attached to you to do anything of the sort. “You’re welcome anytime, just make sure you leave your retainers a note or something.”

“That one guy’s too noisy when he doesn’t know where you are,” Grim grumbles.

“They should know very well by now to check for me here before breaking out into a frenzy,” Malleus breaks out into a grin, self-satisfied. “I am no babe; they haven’t a reason to fret over me so often.”

Grim lets out a little hmph! at that. “Betcha they're more worried ‘bout what you’re getting up to, going out at night all sneaky-like.”

You all pause for a moment at Grim’s statement. “Y’know Grim, it’s very rare that you say something smart.”

It takes a moment for what you say to process. Grim goes from smiling to attacking your leg in the blink of an eye.

“Hm, that very well may be it then,” When you glance up at Malleus, all you can describe his expression as is preening. “I trust that your word will be a suitable alibi then, should they assume that I’m up to mischief?”

“Oh I doubt it, with what we’re always up to? They’ll probably assume the worst as soon as you say my name.” A light hum is all that you get in response. Typical, Malleus tends to zone in and out of conversation. You lead him to the lounge with Grim still hanging off your leg, flicking lights on and fixing things up as you go. Everyone’s awake now, so there's no need to go traipsing through the dark. Besides, Malleus’ eyes seem to glow like a cats in the dark, and you don’t feel like going through that heart attack right now.

Malleus sits by the unlit fireplace, picking up a random book from the coffee table. Grim stays behind with him while you take a moment to head into the kitchen, ignoring the pile of sheets you dumped in there in order to grab some fruits. The living arrangements may be poor and decrepit, but never let it be said that you weren’t a good host. When you make it back, the fireplace is lit, and Grim is curled up in front of it. “He asleep?”

Malleus nods. His gaze washes over the fruits before settling on your face. “For me?”

“They’re chilled, but I think I remember you saying you liked ‘em better that way.”

He reaches out for a grape, plucking it from the vine with a delicate hand. He’s just about to pop it into his mouth when he pauses for a moment. “Ah.”

“What?”

“I’m not supposed to eat anything my retainers haven’t cleared first,” he sighs. “Poisoning and the like, you understand.”

You nod in understanding. You’ve never had Malleus decline anything you offered him before, but…

Wait a minute. He’s laughing.

“That is not true!” You dump the fruits on his lap, leaving him to place them delicately on the table. Malleus hums in amusement as you settle into place by his side. “I can’t tell when you’re joking, it’s not fair.”

“No poison you could get your hands on could harm me,” he says. “Let alone anything you could disguise with the taste of fruit.”

You think he’s joking. Malleus doesn’t force you to respond, content to nurse through the fruit in front of him. He alternates between giving you a handful of berries and popping them into his own mouth.

“Why was Grim awake at this hour? I seem to recall him to be a heavy sleeper, if nothing else,” Malleus murmurs out the question, like it’s not important enough to be articulated properly.

But it is. Because this is embarrassing. There is no way that you are going to reveal to the crown prince of any nation that you spilled cereal all over your bed while Grim was sleeping in it! Not even if you were tortured.

“Oh! I think he ate the leftover tart from Riddle’s unbirthday party,” you laugh, like a liar. “You know how it is, sugar highs and all that.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Must’ve worn off by the time you got here.”

Malleus smiles. You know this smile. In all your time with him, you’ve become intimately familiar with his different smiles. This smile, you fear, spells your doom.

This smile is smug.

Oh that snitch.

“It’s not important,” you rush to reassure Malleus. You wave a hand dismissively, hopefully putting an end to the subject matter. “Grim must’ve just been yapping, you know how he is.”

Before you can even process it, Malleus grabs your hand with both of his. Shocked but not uncomfortable, you don’t deign to snatch your hand back. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d say he even looks earnest. “I would be willing to lend you my aid no matter the situation, whether the problem be big or small.”

You can’t stand to look him in the eye like this. “It’s really not that serious.”

“Tell me what is troubling you, I will have it dealt with.”

… ominous. His grip on your hands is loose, his palms warm and dry. If you don’t catch yourself, you might start to lean into him.

Also… isn’t Malleus… a dorm leader? With access to his dorm’s laundry room? Really, maybe his late night arrival was just the solution to your self inflicted problems. Is it even taking advantage of the situation if he asked you?

With strengthened resolve, you lean in conspiratorially. “Nothing I tell you can leave this room.”

---

As it turns out, Malleus does technically have access to his dorm’s laundry room. Technically.

He just doesn’t know where it is.

“Hornton, aren’t you in your third year?”

“I’m well aware,” he shoots you a look. Man alive, is he pouting? “I just rarely have a reason to come do laundry myself.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. Roaming Diasomnia’s halls in the wee hours of the morning with a trash bag over your shoulder filled with milk soaked sheets was never on your bucket list, but at least you have company! Even if the walls are tall and cold, Malleus is like a heater by your side. “We’ll find it together.”

The two of you, notably, do not find it together.

In your defense, Diasomnia is big. Malleus might know his way around these halls, but you are notorious for your horrible sense of direction. Seriously, you might as well be in a corn maze.

By the time you’ve scoured what you think is the entirety of the upper levels of Diasomnia, you’re about ready to throw in the towel. Far be it from you to ignore the sweet call of sleep.

“Malleus, I think we should just leave it,” you murmur. “With the way things are, I’ll be ok sleeping on the ground.”

You would not be fine on the ground, actually. But you are nothing if not a liar and exhausted.

“I suppose we should check the basement before we give up,” he hums.

…

You do not want to check the basement. The apprehension must show on your face, because all Malleus does is laugh. This man laughs at you.

“Worry not,” he breathes out between chuckles, “I won’t let any harm befall you.”

How comforting.

The door to Diasomnia’s basement is just like the rest of the dorm: cold and tall and imposing. When Malleus reaches out to open it, the door creaks open itself. Creepy.

“Can I let you go down by yourself and I stay up here with the living?”

Malleus casts you a sidelong glance. “The safest place is by my side.”

You can’t even respond, snarky or otherwise, because he’s not wrong.

“You go first,” you pat his arm. That way, if anything jumps out at you, he’ll get the brunt of the attack. “I’ll be right behind you.”

When Malleus takes the first step, you think you can hear an ominous thudding. But that’s probably just the paranoia speaking.

Your descent down the stairs is marked by you cowering behind Malleus and jumping every time you think you feel something ghosting over your shoulders. On the bright side, the basement seems to be well lit with torches.

When you make it to the bottom, you take a moment to examine your surroundings. It’s an open room, marked with chairs and a stack of baskets lined up against one wall. Along the opposite wall, however, stands the prize that you’ve been searching for all this time. Your long lost lover…

A row of washing machines.

“Oh finally!”

You don’t hesitate to run over to the first washing machine you see, tossing the trash bag you’ve been carrying over your shoulder onto the ground as you shed tears of relief. Not literally though, because you can only stand to embarrass yourself so many times in one night.

Malleus hovers behind you while you punch in the code for the rinse cycle and load the machine. He offers to help, but drops it when you almost bite his hand. No way are you letting him in close proximity to your dirty laundry. Once you’ve finished loading everything up and have slammed the lid to the machine shut, you get up to face him again.

“Well Malleus, I think we did good here today,” you nod, satisfied with the outcome of your journey. “I’m glad we could discover the location of Diasomnia’s laundry room together.”

“Dismissing me already? Humans can be so cruel,” he offers his hand to you, leading you to the seats on the other side of the room. “I believe you still have quite some time left before this load is finished.”

“Don’t remind me,” you whisper. As soon as your back hits the chair, you’re slumped over. It doesn’t help that Malleus is so warm next to you. “I’m exhausted.”

Malleus hums. “Then rest. I’ll wake you when the time comes.”

---

You wake up to your alarm sprawled over Ramshackle’s couch, a gray quilt tucking you so tightly you almost fall off the couch trying to get out of it.

On the table next to you are your clean folded sheets and a note.

Thank you for the company last night… I enjoy our time together greatly. I suppose the time to wake you never came. Apologies.

You don’t think he’s very sorry at all.

#malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #*shakes hands*#i made this b4 i fixed my intro post so if u click on my blog no u didn't

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xochitai · 7 months

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originally from 2020 i just kept forgetting to post it here oops

#also if thou seeks a sticker of this it is available on redbubble #she ra and the princesses of power #spop #double trouble #spop double trouble

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annab-nana · 4 months

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Kisses Meant To Distract The Other Person From Whatever They Were Intently Doing with Steve Harrington where ready was so focused on decorating for the holidays and completely ignoring Steve!

he is such an attention whore and needs it constantly and will get it by any means necessary hahah

warnings: not proofread, use of pet names (baby), christmas

❀ masterlist ❀

steve was never not in the christmas spirit. he loved everything about it. the gift giving. the time spent with family and friends. the food. all of it, but right now, all he wanted was you and your attention.

unfortunately for him, your attention was on decorating the house for christmas.

"turn it a bit toward me," you told him, watching his hand reach for the star to maneuver it to your liking. "oop, a tad too far." steve fixed it instantly, moving it mere micrometers before he heard your confirmation to stop. "that's good i think. come look at it and tell me if it looks good."

"i'm sure it looks wonderful, baby," steve informed you while stepping down the ladder. he couldn't even catch your eye when he walked over to you. that damn gold star had every bit of your focus. he never thought he'd be jealous of a christmas tree topper before yet here he was, wishing for its glory.

he rolled his eyes at himself before slipping an arm around your shoulders and gazing at the tree. this might be the best christmas tree steve's ever laid eyes on and he told you as much, "y/n, this looks amazing."

but your face didn't seem satisfied.

you leaned your head against steve's shoulder and continued to stare at the tree. "i feel like i'm forgetting something, but i don't know what."

"i think you've got it all," steve shared before his lips pressed a kiss to the top of your head and he pulled you into him with his other arm.

"no, i-" steve's lips moved down and caught your own, stopping the words you were speaking. "steve," you called between kisses.

"hmm?" he hummed absentmindedly.

"we're not done yet," you reminded him, though his lips were definitely putting a pause on your holiday decorating.

"stockings are hung," he started before placing his lips on top of yours again. "christmas tree is up." another kiss. "wreath is up." this time, he kissed your gasping mouth.

"that's it!"

steve pulled away, confused. "what's it?"

"the wreath. i never put it up because you called me in here to help you untangle the lights for the tree, so i never went back out there. that's what i was forgetting," you explained and took a step back to go put it up, but steve's hands on your wrists kept you with him.

"after the wreath is up, will we be done decorating?" steve questioned, a pout he probably wasn't aware of on his face.

your heart squeezed at it and you realized then what you'd been doing, more so who you'd been unintentionally ignoring. taking another step closer to steve, you brought your hands to his face and made sure your full attention was on him.

"yes, i just have to hang the wreath on the nail that is already in the door and then i'll come back in here and be all yours. sound like a plan?"

his smile was enough to keep you warm all christmas season. he surged forward and pecked your lips once more. "sounds like a perfect plan."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!

tag list: @fiction-is-life @bradleybeachbabe @marjorie189 @jellyfishbeansontoast

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurbs #blurbs #marjorie189 #❀ marjorie ❀#winter wonderland sleepover ✧*:･ﾟ

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r3nrit · 1 year

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Drew this last month literally right after session 7 I just kept forgetting to post it oops uhh here it is now thought !!! The saddest of boys

(Also ps he is wearing Jimmy’s jacket and chain along with Joel’s vest and gloves if you were wondering why it looked a little different than the mc skin he used :o] )

#art #fanart #illustration #trafficblr #trafficblr art #limited life smp #limited life #limited life fanart #grian limited life #limited life grian #limited life bad boys #limited life session 7 #grian fanart #lim life #lim life grian #grian #r3nrit art

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oddinary4bts · 1 year

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The Forgotten Spaces | ch 4 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there will be mature content in later chapters)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: nausea, hangover, the park jimin effect, drinking, cursing? a time skip of a month

☆word count: 9.6k

☆a/n: why is posting making me anxious? fun fact, I'm posting from New York City this week! Went to the two first Agust D concerts ayyy

☆a/n pt2: always and forever thankful for @moonleeai and her dedicated work as my beta reader <3

☆series masterpost here

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, May 19th

Jungkook feels sick. Sick of everything, but mostly sick because his hungover has kept him in bed all day. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to pull up for dance practice later. All he knows is that his room has been spinning whenever he wakes up from naps, and that he fucked up majestically last night.

He doesn’t quite remember everything he said. He just remembers you, in his room, and then you being gone, replaced by Jimin and Taehyung.

The only thing he knows is that you know. The text that’s been sitting on his phone all day is reminder enough.

[11:12 am] You: hey, i hope ur okay this morning.. if u ever wanna talk about last night, we can grab a coffee or smth😌

He doesn’t know what to say, so he hasn’t replied. Because he’s not okay at all, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you.

Especially not when he hasn’t been able to eat anything since the first time he woke up today. It’s nearing 4 pm now, and he technically needs to be at the studio in two hours. Hobi already said he’d pick him up, but he’s still far from being presentable right now.

Jungkook groans, hiding his face in his pillow. You come up in his mind, the look of horror on your face last night making everything spin around him twice as much as before. Whenever he closes his eyes, you’re there, and he almost hopes to go blind.

Though he’s pretty sure you’d find a way to haunt him even if he was blind.

Another groan escapes him, and he turns his head to the side as someone knocks on his door. “Uh?” he lets out, loud enough for whoever it is to hear.

He’s surprised to see it’s Yoongi as the man opens the door. “I made you soup,” Yoongi says, and sure enough he is carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup on top of it.

Jungkook expects the thought of eating to make him feel worse, but surprisingly enough, no nausea rises inside of him. Instead, he realizes his stomach feels dreadfully empty, so he forces himself to sit, wincing at the throbbing pain at his temples.

It’s almost enough to make him forget the pain in his leg.

“Did you take any painkillers?” Yoongi asks as he puts down the tray at the foot of the bed. “And have you drank any water?”

“Yes and yes,” Jungkook replies, voice raucous from disuse. “Pretty sure I could use some more painkillers though.”

Yoongi nods, watching his younger friend carefully. “Do you need me to go get you some?”

Jungkook slowly shakes his head no. “I need to get out of bed if I want to make it to dance practice.”

At that Yoongi laughs. “Good luck with that.”

Jungkook frowns, glaring at Yoongi. “I’m very capable, I’ll have you know.”

“Your room smells like someone died in here.”

Though he’s usually sensitive to smell, Jungkook’s hungover state keeps him from being able to tell if the room really does stink. “Tae and Jimin cleaned up.”

“Then you must be the dead body,” Yoongi says, in that deadpan kind of way of his. He shrugs his shoulders, before adding, “Anyway, just eat and then take a shower. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Jungkook nods and watches as Yoongi makes to move out of his room. Yoongi’s at the door when Jungkook says, “Hyung?” Yoongi turns around, a quizzical look on his features. “Thank you for the soup.”

A smile breaks out across Yoongi’s face. “Anytime.”

And then Yoongi leaves, shutting the door softly behind him, and Jungkook is left alone once again. He looks down at the soup, and he realizes he really is hungry. He pulls the tray closer to him, making sure the soup doesn’t spill over the rim of the bowl, before grabbing the spoon.

The first spoonful of soup has his eyes fluttering shut with delight. Yoongi’s always been an amazing cook, and he hasn’t disappointed today. It awakens Jungkook more than anything else could have, and he’s finished the bowl of soup so quickly he almost considers eating the tray.

He’s still famished, but at least he’s got something in his stomach now. It’s enough to get him to stand from his bed, and though everything wobbles for a few seconds, he’s able to start gathering what he’ll need for his trip to the shower.

The shower really helps make him feel human again, and he’s relieved. As he steps out and looks at himself in the mirror, eyes dipping to his scars, he feels ready to confront the whole world if need be. He won’t have to bail on dance practice after all.

He’s down in the kitchen, eating some reheated pizza from last night, when Hobi arrives. His older friend pats him on the back, before putting down a Gatorade in front of him.

“Thought you’d need this,” he says, before climbing on the stool next to Jungkook.

Jungkook chuckles, immediately uncapping the Gatorade to take a long swig. It’s the last thing he needed to feel as good as new, and he offers Hobi a wide grin as soon as he puts the bottle down.

“I sure did,” he says, and the two friends laugh.

One thing that doesn’t change though, is the heaviness in Jungkook’s heart. Because if you know, then it’s just a matter of time before the rest of the crew knows. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to deal with everyone pitying him at the same time.

Maybe then he’ll just have to dip again.

Jin comes into the kitchen, and he stops as he sees Jungkook and Hobi at the counter. Valeria trails behind him, and Jungkook is struck dumb once more.

He never thought Jin would be able to pull the girl. He’s still surprised that she does exist, and whenever he’s alone with Jin he makes it a priority to remind his older friend.

“Sup’ losers,” Jin says as he starts moving again, heading towards the fridge to store the bottle of rosé wine he’s holding. “Surprised you were able to get out of bed.”

He says that over his shoulder looking right at Jungkook, who rolls his eyes. “I’m not a senior citizen like you, I’ve still got youth on my side.”

“Listen you little shit,” Jin bursts out, and Valeria starts laughing. It has the effect of a calming shower on Jin, who only glares at Jungkook. “You’re lucky the lady is here. Otherwise you’d be dead.”

“If you’d be able to catch me, that is.”

Jin looks towards Hobi.

“Don’t ask me for help,” Hobi says, raising his hands in defense. “You’re all alone on this.”

Jin’s head turns towards his girlfriend next. She’s shy, and Jungkook has never really talked to her before. So when he and Hobi look at her too, she blushes, before shrugging.

Jin lets out a childish whine, before saying, “Alright then, I’m old.”

“We like you like that.” Valeria is the one that speaks, and Jungkook chokes on a laugh as he turns back towards Jin.

“You heard her.”

Jin is fake-glaring at his girlfriend, but then his features soften. “Yeah, but at least she’s pretty.” And just like that he moves out of the kitchen, pulling Valeria behind him.

“I’ve been told I’m pretty too,” Jungkook yells behind Jin, and Hobi laughs next to him. “He’s so whipped,” Jungkook says after a few seconds, just to make sure Jin is out of earshot. His comment makes him think about another couple that’s starting to form, and he turns to look at Hobi. “And you? What’s up with Jiho?”

Hobi chokes, flushing fully red, up to the top of his ears. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows as he tries to hold in the shit-eating smirk that wants to form on his lips. “What do I mean? Why did you invite her yesterday?”

“I –” Hobi says. “I just thought it’d be fun to hang with the crew…”

“The crew?” The smirk has won now, and it breaks across Jungkook’s lips.

“Well, you know, just like…” Hobi falls silent, before letting out a strangled laugh. “I honestly didn’t see it coming.”

It’s cute, and Jungkook’s smirk turns into a softer smile. “To be honest, me neither.”

“She’s got balls though,” Hobi says, laughing lightly this time. “She’s the one who suggested we should go on a date, after dance practice last week.”

All that Jungkook remembers of that night is that he walked with you after. The rest is a blur of anxiety and his leg hurting. But he’s not surprised that Jiho’s got balls: she has to be your closest friend for a reason.

“You said yes, I hope,” Jungkook says.

Hobi slowly nods. “Yeah. But I invited her yesterday because of that too. And we’re going to a restaurant she suggested tomorrow.”

Jungkook doesn’t have to fake the happiness that takes over him right now. He’s happy for his friend, he really is. For his friends, plural. Because Taehyung, Jin, Yoongi and now Hobi… They’re all happy. They all have met someone, someone to care for them where no one else can. Strangely, it’s something Jungkook doesn’t really want for himself right now, maybe because he’s too stuck in the past.

Too stuck trying to heal from the crash, knowing some parts won’t ever heal and refusing to give up the fight for now.

It brings him back to you. To last night, and to whatever he said. He wishes he could remember the words, just to know how bad he fucked up, but he doesn’t. He won’t remember, and he won’t ask you.

He won’t take you up on your offer for coffee. He knows pity when he sees it, and he abhors it. Especially when it comes from you.

Instead, he focuses on Hobi, on the smile that lights up his friend’s face as he tells him about Jiho, about how they’ve been texting almost constantly. It’s all Hobi talks about on the ride to the studio, as he mentions stuff Jiho told him.

Stuff she told him about her when she was younger, but also about you. About how you’ve been friends since the first day of kindergarten, when someone pulled her braids and laughed at her and you punched them in the face.

He’s not surprised child you would punch someone that deserved it in the face. He’s pretty sure adult you would do it too.

Hobi parks his car next to the studio, and they are getting out of the vehicle when Jungkook notices you walking, hands buried in yet another oversized sweater. You’re wearing yoga pants underneath, and your hair is pulled up in a high ponytail. You catch his gaze a few seconds after he notices you, and he’s about to smile at you when you just look away, walking in the building without once glancing back.

What the fuck?

Jungkook frowns, especially as Hobi says, “What happened with Y/n last night?”

For some reason, Jungkook immediately grows defensive. He shrugs, a little vehemently before starting to walk towards the door. “Nothing happened. Just let it slip that I got into a car crash.”

“So she knows?” Hobi asks.

Another shrug of Jungkook’s shoulders. He buries his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, just to hide the way he’s clenching his fists even though he’s trying to stay calm. “Yeah. So everyone will know.”

“I don’t think so,” Hobi says, and Jungkook glances at him, brows knit together. “I mean, she’s good at keeping secrets.”

“She’s probably already told Jiho,” Jungkook points out as they reach the door. He doesn’t see you on the other side, and that’s the only reason why he opens it.

“Well, Jiho didn’t say anything about you, if that can reassure you.”

Hobi has felt the switch in his mood, hasn’t he? Because his voice is careful, as if he’s afraid to spook him.

“I don’t care,” Jungkook lies. Because he really does care. He doesn’t want everyone to know. Because it makes it too real, and for now he still can pretend it hasn’t happened.

He wishes for it to stay that way.

Hobi doesn’t push him more, and a tense silence moves between them. Jungkook wishes he could go back to his previous good mood about his friends’ happiness, but he’s back where he was last night. Somewhere in the dark of his own mind.

Not a good place to hang, if he’s honest.

He already knows he’s going to see you when he reaches the studio. Somehow, it still makes his heart constrict in his chest, that same way it did last night. As if someone is clenching their fist around it, and it makes it harder to breathe. He shrugs it off, taking a deep breath to calm down, before looking around.

Everyone but Heather is already here. And no one is looking at him, no one seems surprised or seems to be pitying him. You don’t even act like you noticed him entering – you take off your sweater, dropping it in a corner of the room with your phone and your keys. He hates it, but his eyes follow the curves of your body, and he wants to curse you for only wearing a sports bra.

Your body is lean, the results of dancing for most of your life with a mother that used to be a ballerina. Jungkook is pretty sure she’s controlled everything you ate growing up, and drilled it so hard into your head that you can’t stand bad food now. He remembers, when you were younger and someone brought cake to practice to celebrate a birthday, you always barely took a bite before saying you were full. You claimed you didn’t like cake, but he always noticed the way you eyed it while everyone else ate.

He used to make fun of you for it, and today he knows he was an asshole. All he can hope is that your relationship with food is better now. And it looks like it is – you’re not as thin as you were before. You look healthy, and your skin and hair are glowing.

It takes him a few good seconds to realize he’s staring, as if something about you has changed. And he doesn’t know what changed, just knows that he feels struck.

You notice him staring, and you furrow your brows. “What are you looking at?”

It’s said aggressively. As if you’re angry. He only then realizes that you might be, and maybe that’s why you ignored him outside. He can’t for the life of himself figure out why you’d be angry – did he say something yesterday?

“Nothing,” he replies, and he looks away as his heart beats out of his chest.

You act like that for the whole of practice. For all the pity looks Heather throws his way, you send twice as many glares. It feels like last night never happened, and maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was just a nightmare, and he never told you everything.

He knows you know though, because whenever he puts too much weight on his leg as he demonstrates the movements he has in mind, you clench your jaw. A muscle feathers under your skin, and then you look away. Shame passes on your features, and then it’s gone to be replaced with a scowl.

He’s getting tired of it by the end of practice, so he pulls you aside to talk. Jiho stubbornly stays next to you, until Hobi walks up to her and asks if he can talk to her, probably sensing that Jungkook needs some time alone with you.

You both glare at each other while the others filter out, wishing you good night. Jungkook hears Scottie teasing Lance about meeting up with a girl, and the last thing he hears is Lance telling him to fuck off before everyone is finally out.

It takes almost twenty seconds before you blink and say, “What do you want?”

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, folding his arms on his chest as he cocks an eyebrow.

You scoff. “With me? Nothing. What’s wrong with you?”

Do you know or do you not? He’s a little confused as you just look at him, clearly expecting an answer. He’s dumbfounded – the last thing he expected from telling you everything was you being furious at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

It’s just a back and forth of questions at this point, with no visible answers in the distance. Indeed, you just say, “Do you think you did something wrong?”

It’s absurd, and it makes him laugh. Which, he reckons, might be taken as insulting. And of course you take it the bad way, because how else would you take it?

“You’re so fucking oblivious,” you grumble.

He’s still laughing. He wants to stop, but for some reason he cannot.

“What’s so funny?” you enquire, and your cheeks are turning red.

“Just,” he starts, “I don’t know. The last thing I expected from last night was you getting angry at me.”

You roll your eyes. “If you were looking for pity you won’t get any from me.”

That’s the thing. He doesn’t want any pity from you. And you saying so makes something warm blossom in his chest, and it sobers him up. His face falls serious, and he holds your gaze long enough that you raise your eyebrows in question.

“Thank you,” he says.

You scoff. “You’re fucking weird, Jeon.”

He shrugs. “That’s why you like me, uh?”

Your eyes widen, and you look so appalled he just starts laughing again. “Quite the opposite actually,” you say even though he’s laughing. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I’m just relieved you haven’t changed.”

He really is. You have no idea how much.

“Okay?” you let out, and it sounds like a question. You scoff again, before adding, “Why didn’t you reply to my text?”

Oh, so this is what it’s about. You’re upset because he ignored your text. It feels absurd and stupid and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, so Jungkook just smiles and shrugs. “I genuinely don’t really want to talk about last night. I’m all okay today.”

And he does think he is, now that he’s talking to you.

You remain silent for a while, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip. You then brush a strand of hair that’s fallen from your ponytail behind your ear, nodding your head. “Understood. Won’t be nice to you again.”

“Oh please,” Jungkook teases. “You can’t resist it.”

He’s happy. The more he talks to you, the happier he is. He feels like he’s floating, and he wishes you’d both stay right then and there, in the studio, until the end of time.

He hasn’t felt so light in forever.

“Oh, I can, Jeon.” You fold your arms on your chest, imitating his posture. “Watch me.”

But there’s a teasing glint in your eyes, probably awakened by his own teasing demeanour.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your text,” he apologizes, because he feels like he needs to clear the air with you. He doesn’t want you to be upset with him anymore. “I genuinely didn’t know what to say, and I figured I was going to see you tonight anyway.”

You look away for the first time in the conversation. Your eyes move down, and he’s pretty sure you’re looking at the scar on his stomach. It makes it itch, and if he weren’t with you, he’d scratch it. But he resists, offering you a tight-lipped smile as you look up at his eyes again.

“Well, forget I suggested coffee then,” you say. You wink at him. “I’ll start being a bitch again now.”

“Please do.”

You look startled. “You want me to be a bitch?”

He laughs, scratching the nape of his neck. “No.” He scrunches up his nose, thinking really hard about what he wants to say. Only he doesn’t know what to say. He feels like he’s never talked to you before in his whole life. He can barely remember breaking down in front of you not even twenty-four hours ago. “Yes? Just be your same usual self.”

“Noted,” you say, nodding your head forcefully.

It’s cute, and it makes your ponytail swing behind you. He has half a thought to reach and pull on it, just to annoy you, but he resists.

Instead, he looks around, before resuming his attention on you. “Just, one thing.”

You hold his gaze, cocking an eyebrow in question as you purse your lips. “Mmh?”

“Please don’t tell the others,” he says. It’s a little more serious than he was just a second ago, but he feels like it’s needed to get the point across. “I’d prefer if they didn’t know.”

The corners of your lips stretch into a small, soft smile. “I didn’t plan on telling anyone. I figured you’re the one that should tell them if you want to.” You glance towards the door, and you’re not watching him when you add, “I think Bridget told Heather though. And I don’t know if Heather will remain silent”.

He doesn’t care if Heather tells the others. He just doesn’t want you to do it. It makes no sense, but at the same time it makes all the sense in the world to him.

“Yeah, I think she knows too.” He pulls at his piercing, letting out a small sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”

You nod, and the room falls silent. He wishes he had more to tell you, but it seems you’ve run out of conversation topics, because you eventually wet your lips and say, “Well, I guess I’ll be going home now”. And then you laugh, shaking your head. “I was supposed to leave with Jiho, but I’m pretty sure she’s gone with Hobi.”

“Hobi talked about her for like an hour before we got here,” Jungkook admits, relieved that you provided a topic. “They’re going on a date tomorrow.”

You smile, widely, and he reckons you’re like him. Your friends’ happiness makes you happy, and happiness truly looks good on you. It makes your eyes sparkle, and you look like a kid who’s just received the perfect gift on Christmas morning.

“I know!” you yelp, taking him by surprise when you even clap your hands. “They’re going to the restaurant I suggested.”

There’s something warm in Jungkook’s chest. It just becomes stronger and stronger the more he looks at you, and it makes him feel wary. Enough so that he looks away and tries to tame it down.

“I hope everything will work out for them,” he says, and he scrapes his throat because the warmth is choking him up now.

“I’m sure it will”, you reply, confidently. “Jiho has been into him for like three years now.”

Jungkook feels bad for her, because three years ago Hobi was still with his ex. But it seems patience makes miracles, because she’s getting a date with Hobi now, isn’t she?

It makes Jungkook realize that sometimes, the right person for someone might have been around all along. They’ve just been blind to it. Now, that’s a thought that makes him want to get out of this room. To flee this cloud before it breaks, and he meets your gaze.

You’re watching him already, with a wistful look on your features. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He hates it. Hates everything that your little sentence makes him feel, so he just nods his head, before saying, “It’s getting late, I should hurry if I want to catch the bus”.

Your eyes widen. “I’ll order you a Lyft, come on.”

“No!” he refuses. “It’s all good.”

“But it’s late,” you insist, and you bend down to grab your phone on your sweater.

It offers Jungkook a straight view to your cleavage, and he freezes, right as pink dusts his cheeks. “I swear,” he reassures you, adding your name before continuing, “I’d rather take the bus. But thank you for the offer.”

You fake-glare at him. “Right, I’m supposed to be a bitch anyway.” You fold your arms on your chest, cocking an eyebrow arrogantly, and you look just like you’ve always looked when you say, “What the fuck are you still doing here? You’re wasting my oxygen.”

It makes the both of you laugh, and Jungkook just shakes his head. “Please, I know you love looking at me.”

You look offended, somehow, and you scoff. “I’d rather gouge my eyeballs out of my head instead of having to look at you for a second longer.”

“Ouch, that was rough.”

“You deserved it.” You shrug your shoulders, before motioning at the door in a swooshing motion. “Now, go lick your wounds somewhere else.”

“Aren’t you leaving too?”

You glare at him now, and you’re so good at it he almost thinks you’re angry. “Why, do you want to walk me home?”

His mouth falls open. Would you let him walk you home? For some reason, he’s pretty sure you’ll punch him if he even suggests it. So instead, he chooses to say, “And suffer the whole way? Nah, I’m good.”

It’s a low-key mention of his injury. You immediately catch on to it, and Jungkook hates the look that takes over your features. He thought that you didn’t have pity for him in you, but it seems you do. You do and it feels like the fist around his heart is back, and the air burns a little.

You seem like you want to say something, but he’s quicker than you.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Jungkook.”

“No, I’m serious, don’t you fucking look at me like that.”

And just like that the light atmosphere shifted back into darkness.

You scoff, shaking your head. “And here I was starting to think that you’re a decent guy. Never mind, Jeon.” You scoff once more, and the corners of your mouth are pulled down in a look of pure disgust. “I’m going home.”

He lets you go. He doesn’t even look at you as you pick up your stuff and leave, not once glancing back.

No matter how enjoyable this interlude in your usual relationship was, Jungkook prefers the usual hate. It’s safer, more comfortable, and a habit that protects him from the vulnerability.

Why then is he staring at your text two hours later in his bed at home, unable to fall asleep, wishing he didn’t say what he did?

In all truth, he knows why, he just doesn’t want to formulate the thought. Doesn’t want to give it the power to exist in the confines of his brain. So he ignores it, shoves the warmth in his chest so far down in the hole occupied by his lost dream that he can’t really feel it anymore.

Only then does he feel safe again, but he still can’t fall asleep.

He hopes you’re not struggling with insomnia as much as he is.

Thursday, June 28th

The auditions for nationals are in a week. Seven days, and you’re still not sure you’ve mastered the choreography well. You’re anxious – have been for weeks now – and all you want is to lie down on the floor until everything is over.

Which, coincidentally, is what Lance has been doing for the last fifteen minutes, claiming he needed a break from Jungkook. Because Jungkook is worse than Hobi, making you repeat the choreography for stupid unnecessary things like Jiho’s hair was in her face or Scottie’s shirt rode too high while he was doing a certain move.

In May, when you learned about what happened to Jungkook, you had a few days of feeling bad for him. Wishing you didn’t get in a fight with him during that dance practice, wishing your relationship with him wasn’t just hateful.

It feels like there’s been too much history between you for it to ever change. Because you saw a glimpse of something else, for a few minutes that night. Jungkook was more open, calmer, and his expressions were set in a softer look. It was easier to be around him, more enjoyable, and you wished for a fleeting moment that it could last.

Alas, it only lasted a few minutes before he moved back to the harsh look he reserved for you, only because he assumed you were pitying him. Which, maybe you were. You don’t know. It’s hard to tell when you haven’t been through what he has, and when you can tell he suffers.

But you’re not sure if it’s pity or concern. You don’t think he can tell the difference either.

“Lance,” you grumble as you finish the choreography, heart beating out of your chest. “Get the fuck up we need you.”

Lance mumbles something incoherent, before turning his head away from where you’re glaring at him. It makes you look up to catch Jungkook’s gaze, and he immediately looks away the moment your eyes meet. He’s been doing that a lot now too. Where he used to glare at you or smirk insufferably, Jungkook just ignores you.

You don’t think you like it. But you’ve gotten used to it over the course of the last few weeks, so you just roll along with it now.

You’ve kept his secret safe. You thought it would be hard, especially to hide it from Jiho, but after a few days it just became normal. Jiho has more to tell you about Hobi anyway.

Because they’ve found time to go on dates every week since then. Sweet dates, with him picking her up and bringing her flowers and doing things that he knows make her happy. Even at dance practice, everyone can see how they are sickly into each other. You’re happy for Jiho, you really are, but it’s starting to feel a little lonely.

At least you’ve got Jo and the other girls now too. You’ve met the mysterious Kiko now – a sweet girl with the voice of an angel – and your girl’s nights with Jiho have turned into Thirsty Thursdays. You haven’t understood the meaning of the Thirsty yet, considering all of them are dating now, but you just roll along with it.

It’s led to fun nights, and that really is the only thing that matters, right?

Tonight makes no exception. Jiho, Heather and you have dance practice until 10 pm, and then you’re supposed to meet with the girls at a bar on their side of town. Which means you’re already dressed up, though you put on a sports skirt to avoid showing off your ass to the rest of the boys. Not that it would matter – Scottie is not interested in women at all, Lance only has eyes for Chaeyeon now, Hobi is way too respectful for that and Jungkook doesn’t even look at you anymore.

You scoff, glancing away from Jungkook to settle your gaze back on Lance. “Get up,” you repeat, before walking over to him to kick him in the ribs. “Or I’ll tell Chaeyeon how much of a loser you are.”

He fakes offence. “Me, a loser? Nah, we’re going to win this shit.”

The sudden confidence is a boost to everyone’s mood, and soon enough you’re back to dancing, with a much-needed vigor. It’s enough that Jungkook lets you go after you’ve done the choreographies two times more, telling everyone they did a good job.

“Same time Saturday,” he says.

You think you notice him looking at you in the mirror, but as soon as you turn your head in that direction he’s already glanced away, focusing himself on typing something on his phone.

“We know,” Lance says jokingly, before punching Jungkook in the shoulder.

Jungkook snickers, and he deadpans, “You were two hours late last week because you were too busy with your girlfriend”.

“Can’t blame me,” Lance says, shrugging his shoulders. “Chae comes first, the rest of you can suck it up.” It’s cute and endearing, and your heart feels warm as Lance glances your way. You have no idea what brings him to think of that, but he scans the whole room before suggesting, “We should rent a cottage. After the auditions. We should all get shitfaced for three days straight.”

Hobi laughs from where he’s standing next to Jiho. “Scottie is too young for that.”

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!” Scottie exclaims. “I can get shitfaced.”

“You’re a baby,” Heather puts in. “Just accept it. I refuse to acknowledge the fact you are major now.”

Scottie rolls his eyes, placing a sassy fist on his hip. “Then sucks to be you because I am, and I’m going to get shitfaced with Lance. Right?”

Lance has a large grin on his lips. “Damn fucking right.”

“As long as we get a cottage with a hot tub I’m in,” Jiho says innocently. Hobi cocks an eyebrow as he looks at her, as if he didn’t just say Scottie can’t go. “What?” Jiho adds, shrugging her shoulders. “A cottage weekend does sound like fun.”

It does. It really does. You haven’t gone to the countryside in years now, and you can already picture a cute, picturesque cottage on the side of a lake, with a long quay you can lie on and stargaze. The cottage has a fireplace, a circle of rock in the middle of which flames burn at night until they turn to embers and you roast marshmallows on it. You can almost feel the warmth of the hot tub, and the laughter of friends seems to almost overtake your ears…

Yeah, you’re due for a trip out of the city.

“I want marshmallows,” you say, sighing dreamily. “I haven’t had marshmallows since like…”

“Since the camping trip when we were thirteen? When Jisung got shit on by that seagull?”

You burst out laughing at the same time as Jiho does, right as the memory comes back to you. It had been a fun camping trip, with Jiho’s parents renting a camper. They had invited you along on their trip, and you had gone to the beach with them.

Good memories indeed.

Your laughter recedes, and you notice everyone is looking at you. Even Jungkook. His eyes are a little widened, as if he’s surprised, and there’s a light flush on his cheeks when he looks away.

It’s the strangest sight to see, and you’re unable to shake the feeling away while you get ready with Jiho later to rush to the bar where Jo and the others are already waiting for you. Jiho notices your unease as she applies your eyeliner.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” you immediately say, way too fast for it to sound casual.

She just cocks an eyebrow and keeps applying the makeup. At least she has the decency to ignore the blush that creeps on your cheeks.

“It’s just…” you sigh, and turn your head when she starts to work on your second eye. “I don’t know.”

“Jungkook?”

You want to kill her for knowing you so well, so you remain silent, choosing peace over violence.

“I’m going to say something right now that might make you want to kill me,” Jiho says, lips pursed.

“I would advise not saying it,” you mumble and she playfully pats your cheek.

“Don’t move.” You pout, but obey nonetheless. She continues working in silence for a time, before saying, “I know about the accident”.

Your heart stops in your chest, and you’re pretty sure all colours have drained out of your features. You still try to play it cool, saying, “What accident?”

“February last year? Jungkook got injured, then ghosted us. Ring a bell?”

You can’t really pretend you don’t know what she’s talking about, can you? “How do you know?”

“Hobi told me,” she admits. “He made me promise to never talk about it, but he mentioned you knew already.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t blame you for not telling me,” she reassures you, having sensed your discomfort. “Actually, it tells a lot about your relationship with JK that you respected his decision.”

You scoff as she pulls the eyeliner away from your face, putting it down on her vanity to grab her La Neige lip tint. “My relationship with Jungkook? We’re not even friends.”

“Why though?”

It’s a good question that just pisses you off further. “Because he’s a dick. He told me about the accident and got angry at me for looking concerned and then he started ignoring me.” You chuckle bitterly. “It’s not like I’m going to try and make him talk to me. I don’t give a shit about him.”

Jiho is silent for a long time. Far too long for it to be normal. Like she doesn’t believe you at all and is waiting for you to realize. You’re just as stubborn, so you don’t say anything as she puts the lip tint on her pretty lips.

It makes for an awkward two minutes, but she’s the one that breaks first. “You don’t believe that.”

You furrow your brows. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

She laughs. Not in a mean way, probably just because your cheeks are burning and she believes she can read you like the back of her hand. “Because you don’t believe that.”

You fold your arms on your chest, sitting back in the chair she’s forced you to sit in while she did your eyeliner. You remain silent once again, clenching your jaw as you choose not to get upset. You’re not sure it works, and Jiho just playfully punches you on the shoulder.

“Calm down, babe,” she says. “He’s changed.”

“He’s still an ass with me,” you point out. “He’s changed with the rest of you guys, but he’s even worse with me. He’s been completely ignoring me for weeks.”

“Because he’s scared of what you think about him.”

“He doesn’t give a shit about what I think of him? He’s made that clear enough.” Jiho goes back to her infuriating silence. And you don’t want the conversation to keep going in that direction, so you ask, “How has it been going with Hobi anyway?”

She flushes red as she always does whenever Hobi is mentioned. “Do not think this conversation is over,” she says, threatening you with the lip tint bottle. “But it’s been…” She chuckles. “It’s been great. I think we’re pretty much official now.”

It’s disgustingly cute. It makes you think of Lance and Chaeyeon, of Heather and Bridget, Jo and Taehyung and Kiko and Yoongi…

It makes you feel lonely, like Lance did earlier. It’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to growing up, so it’s easy to let it slide over you instead of letting it fester inside.

“Look at you,” you say teasingly. “Who knew you’d pull your lifelong crush?”

“Lifelong?” she snickers. “I’ve had a crush on him for like two years.”

You throw a no-bullshit look her way.

“Okay maybe three…”

It makes you both laugh, and it diffuses the situation that was escalating just a moment ago. You’re relieved, because you’re pretty sure if she mentioned Jungkook just once more you would have blown up in her face.

You take shots downstairs with Jisung and Felix before going, and you giggle in the Lyft on the way to the bar the other girls chose. As per usual, you’re the two last to get there – fashionably late is the way to go, right?

It takes you way too long to realize girl’s night will in fact not be girl’s night. Yoongi is the first you notice, maybe because he’s looking at the exit when you walk in, as if he’s just waiting for the right time to bail. He nods as he sees you, and Kiko turns. She smiles her shy smile, the one that doesn’t show her teeth, and she nods as well, almost a copycat of her boyfriend.

Then it’s like a domino effect, and everyone turns to look at you. Nine pairs of eyes, all on you: Jin, Valeria, Taehyung, Jo, Bridget, Heather, Kiko, Yoongi and Jimin. The latter offers you a secretive smile.

You might have been texting him a little. Nothing serious, but he does appear in your dms once in a while, replying to a story you posted. You always decided to ignore him, only liking his replies, but tonight there’s something in the way Park Jimin is looking at you, sitting there, that makes something warm trickle down your spine.

Maybe because of your conversation with Jiho. It’s hard to tell, and your best friend pulls you towards the rest of the group before you can figure it out. The feeling only increases tenfold when you stop next to the table, and Jimin gets up to greet you, quickly followed by the others.

You hug everyone, and Jo holds you a second longer. “Sorry for inviting the rest, Tae begged and I figured…” You pull away from the hug, and she does have a sheepish look on her features. “Thirsty Thursday doesn’t mean no men?”

You laugh at that comment, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

And really, you don’t mind. You like hanging out with them all. You’re relieved they didn’t think to invite Jungkook though, because one thing you’ve figured is that, where Jimin goes Jungkook usually follows.

The night starts off with talking and a few drinks with the group, until you find yourself intoxicated more than you have initially planned to. It doesn’t really matter – you have a day off tomorrow at the internship. Indeed, it only goes from Monday to Thursday, since the lawyer you follow takes the day off on Fridays for the whole of summer.

So you drink, and when they clear a spot for the dancefloor, you let Jiho pull you to it. Let her dance with you, like you usually do when you’re trying to get a guy’s attention. You reckon she’s drunker than you – she’s a giggly mess and she keeps stepping on your feet, which she never usually does. It’s fun, and you feel some anxiety peel away from your skin as if you’re an onion and someone’s about to cut you up to pieces.

You do feel like somebody is about to cut you up to pieces when Jimin moves closer to you, and the smirk on his lips sets something on fire inside of you. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. It doesn’t matter because you pull away from Jiho to move closer to him, almost instinctively.

It’s like he fits like a glove. You face him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him into the dance as his hands find your waist. One of them slips to your back, and he presses you against him as you move to the music, the rhythm a sensual dance between the two of you.

“Hello, you,” he purrs, and you look up at him.

“Hello,” you reply in the same tone, and he makes you spin until your back is facing him. He’s impossibly close and as his hands guide your hips, your eyes trail up.

You entirely stop moving when your gaze meets Jungkook. He’s standing near the door, clad in different clothes than earlier today, but in that same black shade he seems to adore. He also has a chain, with large links that give a rougher vibe to him.

The look on his features is rough too, especially as Jimin leans to speak into your ear. “I thought you might want to piss him off.”

You chuckle, turning your head to gaze at the man behind you over your shoulder. It brings your face way too close to his, and you have to resist the lava in your blood that makes you want to close the gap.

It’s the self-destructive kind of magma, and you don’t feel like indulging in it. Instead, you purr, “Why do you think I’d want to piss him off?”

Jimin chuckles, and you turn your head away from him because damn him, his lips really are inviting. “He’s been a little shit at home. I assume he’s been that way with you too.”

You laugh, and it’s bitter, angry. It surprises even you. “He’s been ignoring me.” You turn in Jimin’s arms, until you’re facing him. You keep your head hung low, enough so that he can’t lean down and press his lips against yours. Jimin is a gentleman though, you know he’d never kiss you without asking for consent first.

“Explains why he’s been a little shit then,” he says matter-of-factly. He straightens a little, putting a comfortable distance between your faces.

“And you think this little show is going to piss him off?”

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. All the while he’s been making you move to the music, and you know to outside gazes you look like you’re flirting. Can planning to piss Jeon Jungkook off count as flirting?

“Oh, I know it will,” Jimin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Jungkook wears his emotions on his face.”

Maybe he does. Around you, his emotion is usually mostly contempt, so you don’t really know.

“What do you gain from pissing him off?” you ask, and you genuinely wonder. What is Jimin trying to do?

“Nothing,” he admits. He purses his lips, before offering you yet another dashing smile. “Mostly I just want to see what he’ll do.”

Jimin pulls you a little closer, and his forehead presses against yours.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, as your heart beats like a hammer against your ribcage. Hell, even if you’re not really into Jimin like that, he’s Park Jimin. You don’t think anyone in their right mind could stay indifferent to him.

“He’s looking right now,” he replies. He chuckles, before saying, “Now, let me tell you what you’re going to do”. His lips move so close to you it feels as if your brain is short-circuiting in your head. “You’re going to act as if I’ve just offended you, and you go to the bathroom.”

“Why?”

“He’ll follow, and maybe he’ll finally…”

Jimin never finishes his sentence. Someone bumps into you, and it breaks the contact between you and him. Instead of pulling you back in, Jimin motions towards the bathroom, offering you an encouraging smile. You’re stunned for a moment, and you hope it does the trick. You hope you really do look offended, because in truth, you were enjoying Jimin’s proximity.

You don’t like that you were. It feels like you shouldn’t be enjoying his proximity at all. He’s not even really your friend anyway.

You don’t have a choice but to follow his advice though, and you turn around, beelining straight to the bathroom. You make your way through the crowd, scrunching up your nose in disgust at the sweaty guy your hand accidentally touched, and a few seconds later you finally find the line to the bathroom.

It’s a unisex bathroom, with three stalls that are currently all occupied. There’s a guy in front of you, and you glare at him as he smiles at you. He frowns, but it works and he turns back around. A stall frees up a little under a minute later, and you’re mindlessly watching a girl washing her hands when a large hand finds the small of your back.

You startle, and you turn around fully ready to knock some sense into whoever it is, until you see it’s Jungkook.

You freeze for a few seconds, and then let out a laugh as you realize whatever Jimin was doing worked.

“You and Jimin, uh,” Jungkook says bitterly, and his hand clenches into a fist where it falls at his side.

You cock your head to the side. “So you’re talking to me now?”

He plays with his piercing in silence, before scoffing. “I was never not talking to you.” You widen your eyes and let out a disbelieved laugh as you fold your arms on your chest. “I’m serious,” he adds. “I just…”

“Don’t even try to explain, Jeon, save your oxygen.”

He’s frowning now, and you reckon he probably has the same expression on his features that you have on yours. “I thought you said you weren’t going to flirt with Jimin.”

“That was over a month ago,” you point out. “People change, unless you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, I know,” he says, chuckling bitterly. “But Jimin? There are dozens of guys in this bar, can’t you just choose someone else to fuck?”

You’re starting to see red. You feel it in the tremble that starts deep down in your core, before taking over the whole of your body. “I’m not going to fuck Jimin. He’s just a friend.”

“You dance with all of your friends like that?”

You turn away from him, hoping one of the stalls will be free now, but you’re in no luck. He grabs your arm, forcing you to turn back around. Your eyes drop to his hand on your arm. His fingers are gentle, way gentler than his features. “Fucking let go of me,” you snap. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t know what part of getting into an accident made you want to act like you’re just a fucking victim of everything around you but my life has nothing to do with yours. Why do you fucking care?”

He looks stunned. “I… What?”

His confusion douses your fury, and you furrow your brows. “What do you mean, what?”

“I don’t care.”

You don’t know who he is trying to convince right now. And you don’t feel like getting to the bottom of it with him. In fact, you really don’t like the look on his face, and you just want to put distance between you and him. So you roll your eyes, before saying, “Alright then, leave me alone, Jeon. I won’t dance with Jimin again.”

He doesn’t even look happy or relieved that you’re saying that. Instead, his features fall a little, moving from a frown to a sad expression that makes something stir in your chest. “I… If you want to get with Jimin, you can.”

Now, you really are confused. “You come here to be a little bitch about this all and now you’re saying it’s fine?”

He pulls at his piercing, and his eyes flicker to the man that walks past you, indicating that a stall must be free now. “Yeah. If that’s what you want, who am I to tell you not to do it?”

You don’t know. You have no idea how the conversation managed to take this turn, so you wet your lips, cocking an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders. “I was being a dick. You’re right, I should stop acting like I’m a fucking victim.”

Now, your heart really does ache in your chest. Because what you said was inconsiderate, and you don’t even really mean it. Not the way that he interpreted it though, that’s for sure.

“Jungkook…”

“No, it’s really okay,” he says. He still looks sad, but he offers you a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry.”

Just like that he’s walking away, and why are you following him? You stop him by grabbing his arm, just like he did to you a moment ago. You hold on to him longer than he did to you, because his skin is warm under your fingers. His tattoos didn’t take away the softness of his skin, and you don’t really want to let him go. Not just yet.

“I didn’t mean it.” You look him in the eyes as he turns just enough so that his gaze can meet yours. “I got angry.”

“No but you’re right,” he insists. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know why I don’t like you talking to Jimin. You can do whatever you want.”

You let his arm go, albeit reluctantly. “If it can reassure you, I am not interested in Jimin like that. Like yes, he’s attractive, but I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

At that Jungkook laughs. It’s somehow melancholic, and you reckon you’ve brought his demons to the forefront of his mind tonight. “Jimin-hyung doesn’t do relationships, you’re in luck.”

“No,” you grumble, and you shut your eyes, as if you have to explain something to a thick-headed five years old. “I’m really not interested in Jimin. Like at all.” Your eyelids flutter open, and you catch the movement of Jungkook’s eyes as they snap away from you.

“Okay,” he lets out flatly. “I’m sorry I ruined it.”

He looks genuine. You’d be angry at him if he didn’t really look as genuine as he does right now.

“Nothing’s ruined, I promise,” you reassure him and you offer him a small smile. “I was tired of dancing anyway.”

The word ‘dancing’ has his gaze trail to the dancefloor, and he bites at his piercing before glancing back at you. “Oh.”

You realize this is awkward. Because what you said really seems to have upset Jungkook. And you can’t really blame him, it was low. The only thing is, you’re not close enough to him to make him understand. So all you can do when he says he’s going to head home is wish him goodnight.

You feel horrible as you watch him leave, and he’s only just crossed the doors leading to the world outside when you break into a small jog. You make it outside in a hurry, just to see he’s leaning against the wall next to the door.

He seems startled to see you, and you feel just as startled to see he hasn’t really left yet.

“I was wondering,” you let out, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Are you going to come to the cottage? You didn’t say you would earlier.”

You have no idea why that’s come to your mind, but you’re just going to roll with it.

“Uh.” He glances down at his phone in his hand. “Am I even invited?”

You wet your lips, shrugging. “I mean, you’re part of the crew, of course you are.”

He holds your gaze for so long you think the Earth has time to revolve around the sun once before he speaks again. “Am I really part of the crew?”

You reckon he might need to hear it, so you don’t hesitate when you say, “Of course. We’d be nothing without you.”

At that the sad expression on his features melts away. It does so slowly, starting with his eyes. They crinkle at the corners, sparkling a little, and then it trickles down his face, until the corners of his lips tug upwards. It makes you smile too, and you just gaze at each other like that for a few heartbeats. It feels intimate, miles away from the usual bickering and hatred that you share.

It’s new, but it doesn’t feel scary. Jungkook doesn’t feel scary when he’s smiling softly.

“Yes, I’ll come,” he finally says.

It makes you blink, and it’s like the scene is coming back into focus. You realize there are a couple of people smoking a few meters away, and a soft breeze pushes the smoke towards you. You hate the smell, but somehow you can’t shake the smile from your lips.

“Good.” You nod once, and you glance towards the door. “I guess… I guess I’ll let you go home then.”

He nods too, and he tilts his head to the side. He’s surveying you with those big eyes of his. They shine with stars right now, as if his happiness brings the constellations to his gaze. Or maybe it’s just the reflection from the streetlights and car headlights, but it’s beautiful.

Jungkook has beautiful eyes.

“Just waiting for a Lyft,” he says, motioning up with his phone.

You worry at your lips, before flattening your skirt mindlessly. “Is it going to be here anytime soon?”

He looks at the rectangle of light, face falling serious. It takes him a few seconds, but then he nods. “Yep. Should pull up pretty much now.”

You glance at the two sides of the street, and sure enough a car slows down until it stops in front of you. “Alright then,” you say. “Good night, Jeon.”

You don’t usually say his last name like you said it just now. It feels different, in all the right ways that it can.

“Good night,” he echoes, tentatively adding your name at the end. “I’ll see you at practice Saturday?”

“Yes. See you then.”

You’re grinning like an idiot when you’re home later, thinking of the interaction. It felt refreshing to be with Jungkook like that. As if you can be friends.

You never imagined you would want to be friends with him, but somehow tonight you want it. It only doubles up when a series of texts appears on your screen, hiding the top part of the anime you’re watching in bed before going to sleep.

[3:02 am] unsaved number: lmaooi jmin saud i cockblocled him😂 [3:02 am] unsaved number: cockblocked* [3:02 am] unsaved number: sry im drunk

You laugh softly, turning on your back as you pause the anime. You go to the conversation, and you’re about to reply when he adds,

[3:03 am] unsaved number: plz ignorr this

You don’t hesitate when you save his number under his name.

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What do we think of this chapter?? Enemies to lovers not too enemies anymore uh? Hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought!

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berryjoong · 1 year

Text

✩ devil by the window - hwang hyunjin - part two ✩

part one

pairing: demon!hyunjin x angel!afab reader

summary: the words hyunjin left you with keep ringing in your ears, there’s only one way to ensure your fate.

song: devil by the window ~ tomorrow x together

word count: 6.4k (oops)

tags: @midsoulz @sanxoxodra

warning: smut under the cut, minors do not interact!! oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), angel x demon dynamics, unprotected sex (pls don’t do this), creampie, egregious of use of the pet name angel, ummmm idk what else to put this is kinda terrible lmao

small a/n: lol part two is finally here!! sorry that took forever i really tried to keep the same dynamics but also slowly change them over time into smth more romantic. this is so long and still under editing but i wanted to finally get it posted! i hope you all enjoy and drop a request if you’d like!

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“you were my mission all along, angel.”

“anytime you wanna give up and come home with me, you’re welcome.”

hyunjin’s words rang in your ears long after he said them. no matter what you did, you couldn’t escape the words running circles in your head. it felt like they followed you wherever you went, haunting the corners of your mind.

it had been a few days since he’d let his true agenda slip, along with an offer for you to “come home” with him. you’d never admit it, but you’d been thinking about it more than you’d ever expected.

you knew what it meant, leaving your own home up in heaven and fully rejecting everything you’d ever known. you couldn’t figure out why you were even thinking of leaving, it wasn’t that you were doing it for love, you didn’t even like hyunjin. and yet, there was something in the deep recesses of your brain that kept telling you to go for it, to just let go and give into what the pesky demon wanted.

all you could chalk it up to was just that you thought it a better fate to leave on your own than be sentenced down to hell if ever anyone discovered what you two did in the shadows.

but then there was the other side of your mind, the more rational side that knew you were crazy. if hyunjin was this insufferable now, what would he be like if you did give in and let him have his way? he’d hold it over your head forever. he’d be able to take the credit for dragging you down and the last thing you wanted to see was his smug smile staring back at you for the rest of eternity.

you knew the smart move was just to wait until your human passed, take their soul back to heaven and just forget everything you’d ever done with the thorn in your side demon.

it was exactly what you planned to do. it was what you had to do and you knew that, too. your human was getting old by this point, you only had to hold out a few years more, no problem.

no problem… right?

right.

hyunjin, on the other hand, was acting like he’d already dragged you down to hell and completed his mission. he sauntered around more than normal, smug little smile plastered on his face as he continued tormenting you as always.

“something on your mind, little angel?” he asked, an eyebrow quirked as he looked at you.

you snapped out of the daze you were in and glared over at him. “whatever i’m thinking is none of your business, demon. if i say another word, you’re liable to just drag me with you.”

hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly as he walked closer to you. “i can’t take you unless you choose to go.”

“and why would i choose to go with you, hmm? i’d never spend an eternity with you if i had a choice.” you held his gaze as he halted his steps in front of you.

“but that’s just it, isn’t it? one little word to your higher ups and your choice goes poof! you know that as well as i.” there was that stupid smile again, as if he knew he had you in his little trap before you’d even said anything.

you shook your head, slowly taking a step back from him. you wouldn’t give him what he wanted, you couldn’t. “i’ll never give into you,” you shot back at him, your eyes burning into his.

hyunjin stepped forward, easily closing the distance between you, small smile growing into something utterly devilish. “we’ll see about that, angel.”

and that was how it continued.

•••

you didn’t know why you’d done it. maybe his words really had scared you that much. either way, there was no going back now. it wasn’t like you had much of a choice anyway, you’d never been good at just denying him and leaving.

your human had finally died. and barely, just barely it seemed, you scraped the soul away from hyunjin and brought it safely up to heaven. in the back of your mind you knew he let you take it, he had his sights set on a mission far above a simple human soul.

and now, here you were, readying yourself to leave heaven, leave your home.

truthfully, you had no obvious reason for leaving, but something inside your brain nagged at you, reminding you of the mischievous gleam in hyunjin’s eyes the last time you saw him. he was up to no good, he never was, and you didn’t want to stay to find out what he’d do with the heavy blackmail he had against you. you hadn’t gone with him and you knew that was a blow to his more than massive ego.

he’d stop at nothing to make sure his mission was completed and so, before he could get you damned for all eternity, you would do it yourself. leaving heaven and turning to the other side was the most damning offense one could commit.

you didn’t feel like you had another choice, it was only a matter of time before your demon counterpart enacted revenge for his failed mission. you’d be damning yourself but anything was better than seeing the smug demon get his way and condemn you himself.

you stopped at the edge of the heavenly threshold, white light still surrounding you, and looked down, down, all the way to the very pits of hell below you. you turned to look back at the gates of your beautiful home once more and felt a single tear roll down your cheek.

taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, and jumped.

•••

“angel? angel, what the fuck are you doing?”

the hushed, hurried words were the first thing you heard as your consciousness started coming back to you. the second thing you noticed was the strong arms that kept you held securely.

that voice though, you’d know it anywhere. it was public nemesis number one and the sole cause of you being here, hyunjin. as soon as you recognized that voice, you tried squirming away, rolling out of the arms that had a hold on you.

“oh no, angel, i have you here, i’m not letting you go now,” the voice said, a sharp chuckle following. you opened your eyes, slowly blinking as the demon’s face focused above you. he seemed focused, perfect eyebrows knitted together as he held you in his arms. you vaguely registered the feeling of walking, a door being shoved open and being set down on a soft surface. a bed?

“wh-what are you doing?” your words were soft and unsure as you kept your eyes trained on the demon that had taken you in. he was walking around the room you were in casually, pulling a blanket out of the small dresser in the corner. hyunjin came back to where you were laid on the bed and spread the blanket across your form.

“i’m just making sure you didn’t get scooped up by any other… lowlifes that stay around here. they’re not all as nice as i am, you know.” he raised an eyebrow, directing a pointed stare your way. “the real question is, what are you doing down here? that was quite a trip and fall you had.”

at his remark you scoffed and looked away from him. “i didn’t fall, i jumped.”

that seemed to pique his interest more, both eyebrows now raised in surprise. “oh, really? and why would you want to do that, hmm?”

“because i didn’t- i don’t trust you,” you sneered back at him. “you didn’t complete your little mission, there’s no way you expect me to believe that you’d play fairly after that. i just figured damning myself was better than you doing it for me.”

hyunjin shrugged, as if contemplating your words. “true, i thought about it, but i figured you’d finish my work for me. and here you are, so it would seem i was right.”

“i did it on my own,” you shot back hotly, “i’m not here because you lured me down here with your smooth words and pretty face.”

“so you think i’m pretty now, do you?” the smug smirk that painted his face had you regretting your words instantly.

you gave him a once over and scoffed once more, rolling your eyes and looking away from him. “you’re a demon, it’s your literal purpose to be pretty and tempt people to follow you down to their infinite demise here.”

“oh, you mean just like you did? it’s okay, angel, it’s not always easy to admit defeat like this.” hyunjin’s sarcastically sympathetic tone mocked you as the smirk on his lips grew ever wider.

you started clambering up from the bed you were in, ready to ring the infuriating demon’s neck. “you little-”

“you’re stuck here now, unless i can find a way to get you sent back. you’d better pray to whomever you have up there that they’ll take you again. if not, i’ll make sure we have lots of fun down here together, angel.” he sent a cheeky wink your way before turning to leave the room, perfect hips swaying slightly as he walked.

“feel free to just make yourself at home, little angel, it’s going to be a long night,” he called over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him.

taking a breath, you fell back on the bed behind you. you’d collect your thoughts and figure out what to do next. one thing was certain, you couldn’t and wouldn’t stay here any longer than completely necessary.

you were dumbfounded at the thought of the miserable demon actually trying to help you and knew not to trust any seeming kindness that came from him. he was incapable of true kindness and love, a care for others; everything he did came with an angle that was set only to benefit himself. you could only trust yourself in this situation, knowing full well that as soon as hyunjin tired of playing with you and your fate, he’d cast you aside like yesterday’s souls.

•••

you weren’t sure how long you’d been in hell.

it was called hell for a reason, a special place of torture for souls that didn’t get taken to heaven. it wasn’t as people on earth thought, there were no pits of fire and brimstone. instead, the souls were brought to places where their most atrocious sins were committed and made to live those sins unending, forcing them into insanity for all eternity. the demons each had their own roles in tormenting the humans’ souls, whether it be carrying out the torture or luring the souls down to their punishment.

in the time you’d been in hell, you learned more about the place than you’d ever wanted to. as an angel, you’d never made it a point to learn what’s exactly went on deep into enemy territory, but now you were stuck with no option but to learn.

it had been your choice to come here, yes, but you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if you had stayed in heaven. maybe hyunjin never would’ve come for his revenge, maybe you would’ve been damned either way. but you’d made your decision, you’d never know the answers to the what if’s that plagued you at night.

speaking of the pesky demon, he’d been surprisingly… civil over the time you’d been trapped in that spare room. he’d bring you food, even though you didn’t really need it. you figured it was just so he could come and gloat, enjoying the sight of seeing you stuck with him until further notice. he’d said he was working on a way to get you sent back to heaven, although you doubted any truthfulness in his words as you changed more by the hour to look increasingly like the creatures that inhabited these depths of the universe.

hyunjin had also mentioned that it wasn’t safe for you to leave until either he got you back into heaven or until your body finished changing and adapting to the new climate.

“i don’t particularly care, but i figure if it’s truly my fault you came down here, i should give you a chance before throwing you to the wolves,” he’d said, a gleam making its way into his eyes. “plus, i enjoy being the only one who gets to ruin you like that.”

you hated how you were unable to help the flush that covered your face at his words. “like i’d ever let you defile me like that again after what you’ve done,” you spat back at him.

at your words he just snickered to himself and shook his head. “we’ll see about that, angel.”

despite his taunting words, he continued being civil with you, unnerving you with how well-behaved he acted in your presence. it felt like he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security before ripping the ground out from under you. he’d come into your room and explain more things about the goings on in this hellish realm and watch in interest as the once pure white wings you could summon turned to dusty grey before fading completely to black.

you had figured out after some time that you weren’t going to be able to go home, back to heaven, and you supposed hell was now “home.” there was no way they’d take you again with how you’d changed during your time in hell. you decided that as stupid of a move as it might have been to leave that ultimately it was for the best, a choice you wouldn’t try and fight with yourself over anymore. what’s done was done.

“i don’t know if you’ve even tried getting me out of here, but i’d like you to stop,” you told hyunjin the next time he came into the room he’d loaned you. “given” was too nice of a word for a being like him, a being like yourself, now, too. “it was my decision to come here and i don’t want to be sent back.”

the demon’s eyebrows raised as he stared at you in surprise. “oh really, why the sudden change of heart? i’ve finally won you over into deciding that hell is the place for you?”

you rolled your eyes, gaze incredulous as you shook your head at him. “in your delusional dreams, demon. what, do you really want me that badly?”

to that, he shrugged, his face impassive. “i’ve never made any secret of it, have i?”

you just blinked at him, unsure what to make of his words. you knew you shouldn’t dwell on it, it was only another trick designed to make you stumble and believe demons could feel or be anything other that the heartless, cruel tricksters they were at their cores.

“this is just another one of your lies, isn’t it? you got me down here, you got what you want, can’t you stop torturing me?” you looked at him now, shaking your head again in disbelief.

the demon in front of you scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “why would it be a lie?”

“because all you do is lie!” you spat at him. “all demons do is lie and ruin things and destroy what’s good, just look at what you did to me!”

at that, you could see hyunjin visibly recoil, something akin to hurt making its way onto his face. it was just a flash before it faded, the demon’s face setting itself back to the impassive shield it had been before. he rolled his eyes at you, as if he was dealing with nothing more than a petulant child.

“that’s what you really what you believe then? fine by me.” hyunjin turned on his heel and strode toward the door. but not without first calling back over his shoulder, “but don’t blame your predicament down here on me. you were the one that jumped, remember?”

the door slammed behind him, shutting you in once again. you had about had enough of the stupid demon’s games. taking you in, being nice to you, not trying to get in your pants the whole time, and now telling you he had wanted you the whole time. you knew he had some angle, but you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

you had to believe that you were ultimately just a plaything for the crafty being, the connotations of his words as anything else were too much for you to think about. demons didn’t have hearts, they couldn’t feel, despite their previous existence as angels. you knew that and you had to keep remembering it, as the way he’d been treating you since your fall was almost enough to make you think otherwise.

you couldn’t, you wouldn’t open yourself up to the possibility of hyunjin’s antics being anything else other than a game designed to completely break you and make you just like him.

and yet, just yet, you couldn’t deny the tiny nagging inside of you that nearly wished his words were true. he was beautiful, you wouldn’t argue that, and you had to hand it to him that he had done a good job of making it seem like he really didn’t mind you around. that was what demons were best at, being sweet and inviting and lying through their teeth to get their prey to fall right into their traps.

you couldn’t fathom what more he’d want from you, why he was still playing with you after all this time, but you were determined to find out why, once and for all, the next time you saw him.

•••

it appeared to you some time later that if you wanted answers, you would have to be the one to get them yourself. you had apparently upset hyunjin as he hadn’t come into your room for the past couple days and you were starting to get bored waiting for him. so, you plucked up the remnants of your courage and shoved yourself off the bed you’d been sitting on, making your way to the door keeping you in.

you pushed the door open, pleasantly surprised at the fact that it wasn’t locked this whole time. you found yourself in a hallway, looking to your right found a dead end, but to your left seemed to be another room. you wandered down toward the short hallway to the other room, finding yourself in a more spacious living room. it wasn’t big, but it was a modest size for a demon of hyunjin’s repute.

there weren’t any windows, but instead paintings of the world above scattered the walls of the room. off to one side of the room sat a chair with what looked like an easel, paints in a perfectly organized line, and a half finished painting of a flower vase sitting atop the easel. you had thought him one to appreciate art, much less create it; but once more, the idea of the demon you’d built up in your head was shaken. it made him seem less like the dark creature he was and almost more like the being of light he had been before.

you looked to the other side of the room and saw a small couch, with a figure crumpled up under a blanket. it was hyunjin, no doubt, but… why was he out here? this was his place, surely if he wanted to sleep he could-… and suddenly, it dawned on you. he did have a room to sleep in, but he had given that up when he took you in.

now, you were thoroughly confused. had he really been telling you the truth in saying he wanted you down here, with him?

“if you want to stare at me that much, you could’ve just asked, angel,” the figure under the blanket said, his voice gravelly from sleep. hyunjin peeked his face out from where it had been smushed against his arm and the blanket.

“i- i thought demons didn’t need to sleep,” you said back, purposefully ignoring his earlier comment.

hyunjin blinked a couple times before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “we don’t, but who am i to deny myself the comfort of a good nap sometimes?”

you couldn’t help the next words that you blurted out. “you gave up your room and bed for me. why?”

“i told you, you were my mission, angel.” his pretty face turned blank as he spoke and lifted himself up onto his elbows to look at you better. “not that you’d believe anything i say, you’ve made that very clear. but it’s the truth, you fascinate me and i wanted you here with me. i was given permission by my superiors to drag you down if you didn’t want to come after our mission was over. but ultimately, i wanted the choice to be yours, what use would it be to have you down here against your will and hating me for the rest of eternity?”

hyunjin slowly removed the blanket that covered him and stood up, beginning to pace the floor in front of the couch. his expression stayed perfectly blank, seeming intent on not giving away any of his true feelings behind the matter.

“true, you may still hate me for the rest of eternity,” he continued, clasping his hands behind his back, “but at least i know that for once my hands are clean in the matter of bringing you here. you came of your own volition and while i may have… helped persuade you, the decision was still yours in the end.”

you stood in your spot, quietly listening as he paced while unraveling his whole plan with you. “but… why not say anything? what do you actually want with me that you’d go through all that to maybe end up with me here?“

hyunjin stopped pacing for a moment and shot you a pointed stare, one eyebrow raised. “although i do have demons down here to consort with if i wish, i have always enjoyed a challenge. and you, angel, were the perfect challenge for me.”

the demon resumed his leisurely strides across the floor, shrugging his shoulders as he continued his explanation. “sometimes risks are worth taking, clearly you know that as well as i since you’re here. and i found you a worthy challenge and risk to take. the way i saw it, either i end up with someone to share with in my mischief or i don’t, and i have a few laughs and good fucks along the way. the choice is still yours, angel.”

the entire time you’d been listening to him, you were mulling over the choices presented to you. obviously, hell was your home now and you were never getting back into heaven; all the thoughts you’d been thinking of hyunjin and demons as a whole now applied to you.

on one hand, you could just leave him and hope to the powers that be that you wouldn’t run into him again in your long eternity down here. or, the decision that was starting to look better by the moment; you could stay, he’d made it apparent that he wanted you to, for whatever reason. being transformed into a demon now as you were meant you wouldn’t have to follow the angelic code you’d held to before, you were free to be and do what you want.

you could stay, you would stay here and you’d have fun with him right back. if he could torment you and make you doubt everything you’d known for years during your mission on earth, it was only fair that you do the same back to him, right?

“fine, you want me so bad? i’ll stay. but i’m on your level now, hyunjin, so don’t expect me to play nice.” you crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down from your spot halfway across the room.

the fiery gleam in his eyes that you’d grown to… appreciate was back the moment the words left your mouth. in less than half a second, he’d crossed the space between you, wrapping you up in his arms.

“how far you’ve fallen, my little angel,” his voice dropped an octave, his hold tightening around you, effectively trapping you against him. his face was right above yours, if either of you moved even an inch, your lips would be on his.

“i already told you, i didn’t fall, i jumped,” you whispered, ever defiant.

hyunjin’s gaze turned downright hungry as he gazed at you, lips curling over his teeth into a perfectly devilish smile. “that’s what i like to hear.”

he leaned down, closing the minute distance between you and pushed your lips together in a searing kiss.

you kissed him back fervently, your eyes falling shut as you pressed closer against his body. you brought your arms up to encircle the back of his neck, giving into the need for him you’ve been trying to bury since the very first time this tussle together happened. there was nothing stopping you from holding back now and as hyunjin had pointed out earlier, who were you to deny yourself what you wanted?

“fuck,” he breathed against your lips, “i missed this, angel.”

you chuckled, pulling back to attach your lips to his jaw, steadily working your way down his neck. “don’t tell me you didn’t have your pick of any other being you wanted.”

hyunjin let his head loll back, giving you more access to suck pretty little marks on his skin. “i never said i didn’t, but none of them were you.”

you huffed out a breath at his words, leaving a particularly harsh nip at his neck, reveling in the short hiss that left the demon’s mouth. “you’re stuck with me now, hope you made the right decision.”

“i know i did.” hyunjin threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of your head and brought your face up to his, slotting your lips together once again. he pulled away just enough for you to see the ever-present smirk on his face. “and now i’m gonna show you just how perfect of a decision it was.”

he easily scooped you up in his strong arms, you immediately wrapping arms and legs around him in response. you set back to work on creating a myriad of hickeys on his neck as he takes you back to his room, the colors blooming beautifully with each kiss and bite you leave on his perfect skin.

as soon as you’re back in hyunjin’s room, he tossed you down on the bed and stood over you for a moment, looking ready to ravish you completely. unsure how long it had been since both of you last fucked, you were ready to do whatever he wanted as long as it ended with him inside you, pounding you into the mattress.

your legs fell open, inviting him to do as he pleased. a smile made its way to the demon’s face as he took in your splayed out form before him.

“my perfect little angel,” he breathed out, leaning over you and caging you in with his arms, “i’m going to absolutely ruin you.”

you just wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him down to kiss you again. hyunjin kissed you back like it was the last time he’d be able to, pressing his lithe body against yours. you felt his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and you couldn’t help the soft squeak you let out into the kiss. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own.

you moaned into his mouth, pushing your body into his as your hands ran across his shoulders and down his arms. in return, the demon above you ground his hips on yours, pulling away from your lips moments later in favor of mouthing down your neck. he sucked and nibbled his way across your neck and to your collarbone, skin blooming with new marks of your own.

“no one else gets to mark up my pretty angel like this but me, right?” his words were hot on your skin and you could feel his smirk when you nodded quickly.

“only- only you,” your voice came out a stilted whimper as hyunjin nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck. “you’re stuck with me now, ‘m gonna stay around and annoy you all the time.”

hyunjin chuckled lowly, running his tongue over the latest mark he’d made. “that’s right, gonna make you just as wicked as i am, pretty one.”

you shivered slightly, feeling the demon’s fingers dance over your body, moving toward the hem of the shirt you wore. you arched your back as hyunjin made quick work of pulling your shirt over your head, discarding it and your undergarments beside you on the bed.

hyunjin looked down at you, his gaze nearly reverent as he took in the sight of your form in front of him. he slid his hands up your sides to knead at the flesh of your chest, eyes transfixed on how your tits moved, nipples pebbling up under his fingertips.

after a moment, he leaned down, capturing one nipping his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud. your head rolled back at the feeling, letting out a loud moan at the sensation. your hands found their way to his hair and you tugged on the strands, making hyunjin groan into your skin.

“more, hyunjin, please,” you pleaded, lightly pulling on his hair again.

hyunjin looked at you, pulling his mouth off your tit with an obscene pop. “oh, you want more, do you? i’ll give you more, don’t worry, just wanna get a taste of you first, angel.”

he made short work of removing his own shirt before your skirt and underwear, adding them to the steadily growing pile of clothes next to you. the demon kissed down your body, leaving tiny bite marks as he went, moving closer to where you needed him most. he spread your legs open, holding them still as he mouthed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

you keened as he finally attached his lips to your core, tongue eagerly flicking over your clit. your hands immediately drifted back to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you tried to pull him closer to you.

“be patient, angel,” came the soft murmur against you, “i’ll give you what you want soon enough.”

you whined softly but it quickly turned into a high pitched moan as you suddenly felt two fingers push into you along with his tongue that stayed playing with your clit. he smirked at your reaction, sucking lightly at the bud to see what that would get him. another loud moan tore itself from your lips and you tried to close your legs on his head, one of hyunjin’s strong hands preventing you from doing so.

“remember, be patient for me, my angel. good things come to those who wait,” you felt his words more than heard them, his mouth barely leaving you as he spoke. you simply nodded, unable to help yourself from pulling lightly at his hair again.

hyunjin kept lapping at you, his fingers languidly making their way in and out of you, curling this way and that, already bringing you close to your release. he’d let out soft groans every time you tugged on his hair, the vibrations from his voice adding to the pleasure you felt. you neared closer to your climax, your walls starting to pulse as hyunjin worked you with his fingers and tongue.

just when you were about to reach your high, everything was suddenly gone, leaving you wanting. you couldn’t help the pitiful whine that left your lips as you glared at the smirking demon.

“you truly are evil, you know that?” your eyes narrowed at him, displeasure evident on your face.

hyunjin just chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “so you’ve said a time or two hundred. and yet, you’re still here, so you obviously enjoy how evil i am.”

you glared at him harder, trying to swat at where he stood between your legs with your foot, narrowly missing his hip when he jumped out of the way. he shook his head at you, tutting softly.

“my naughty angel,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “and here i thought you wanted to be good.”

you rolled your eyes petulantly before fixing him with a challenging stare. “what can i say? i guess you’ve just rubbed off on me.”

at that, the demon let a devilish little smile creep onto his face once more. “and how glad i am for that. now be good for me and maybe i’ll let you cum tonight.”

hyunjin shrugged his pants and underwear off, cock slapping up against his lower stomach, just as pretty and proud as the demon it belonged to. you’d be lying if you said it had no effect on you, your mouth watered and you vowed to yourself to absolutely devour it the next time the opportunity presented itself.

“like something you see?” you heard the smug tone dripping from the demon’s words. you could see the fire igniting in his eyes as he stepped between your legs again, unhurriedly tugging at his length. he lifted one knee on top of the bed, angling his hips toward yours and ensuring that with every tug the head of his cock would tap against your dripping entrance.

“please- please just fuck me already, hyunjin,” your plea came out as mostly a frustrated whimper.

that only stroked his ego more but even so, he crawled on top of you once again. “since you asked so nicely, who am i to deny my favorite angel?“

hyunjin rubbed his cock between your folds for another moment before lining up with you and pushing in slowly. your head rolled back when he finally bottomed out, mouth falling open as you moaned out loud.

“you feel so good, always so tight for me, angel,” he said, his voice mostly a moan at the feeling of your warmth around him. the demon above you held onto your hips, keeping you still as he started thrusting in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

your hands grasped at him, finding purchase on his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin. hyunjin tugged you closer, starting to pick up his pace and pulling your hips to meet his powerful thrusts. he let out a low groan at the slight sting of your fingernails scraping against his shoulders, leaving trails down his toned arms.

hyunjin let go of your hips a moment later to lean over you again, propping himself up on his forearms. burying his face in your neck, he left more tiny pecks and nips on the junction between your neck and shoulder, causing you to moan louder than you had before.

your senses were overwhelmed at the feeling of hyunjin everywhere, all over you, the steady drag of his cock against your walls. as he picked up the pace of his hips, you were slowly reduced to nothing but high pitched moans and whimpers, your body pliant under his hold.

“h-hyunjin, please…” you moaned out, holding onto his shoulders tighter and bucking your hips up slightly to meet his.

“please, what, angel?” he asked, his voice taunting. he continued fucking into you, each thrust deep and more intense than the last. he smiled a little at your fucked out form, how you struggled to form the words to answer him back as your high drew closer.

“want- i need to cum, pl-please!” you cried, your back arching up as hyunjin kept pushing you toward your orgasm.

“come on then, cum for me, my pretty angel,” hyunjin whispered into your ear, his hips rocking against yours. his hand snaked down to rub circles on your clit, giving you the last nudge over the edge over the edge of the cliff that had you plunging into your climax.

with a high whine, your release washed over you and you bucked your hips into hyunjin’s, walls spasming around his cock. your release spurred his, cock pulsing inside you as he filled you up to the brim.

he let out a loud groan, rocking his hips into yours as he rode out both your highs. he stilled after a second, slowly pulling out of you and wincing a little at the slight overstimulation.

hyunjin lightly ran a hand down one of your thighs before turning to around to the dresser across the room and taking out a small towel. the demon brushed his dark hair away from his face and made his way back to you, gently cleaning you up and taking care to wipe down your sensitive thighs.

leaning down, he kissed you once again, pushing your lips together in a short kiss. he pulled away a second later, slumping against you lightly as he tucks his head in your neck.

“i missed this. i- i missed you,” he said, his voice soft. hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, gently pulling you closer to him. you curled into his hold in return, no longer trying to ignore the warm feeling that bubbled up in your chest at his words.

“not that i ever planned on admitting it, but i might’ve missed you too, just a little,” you answered him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“i’m glad you decided to stay, my little angel.” he tightened his arms around you, one hand lightly rubbing up and down your back.

“what can i say? your unending snark and wonderful attitude every morning won me over.” you let yourself giggle softly as the demon shook his head.

“and now you get to deal with me… forever,” hyunjin murmured in your ear, his tone menacing but lighthearted.

“i chose my fate, i’m okay staying here and taking over the realms with you; this is what i want,” you said back, a fond smile taking over your face and matching the one spreading across hyunjin’s lips. “you’re what i want.”

“and you’re just what i want, my angel.”

#stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #smut #part two #i tried #angel x demon #pls enjoy #end my suffering

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greypetrel · 1 year

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"Shoes are an evil way to oppress people and I won't wear them." cit.

Finally finished with her clothes concepts! (the first plan was doing 6 of them... Oops, I guess)

Aisling's wardrobe/story through clothes. Guess her favourite colour. Some notes under the cut!

She loves colours. She has a palette she loves best (teal - purple - yellow) and would stick to it. In Haven she just borrowed the plainest, more muted clothes she could find to blend in better with the rest and not stick out so much. Stopped braiding her hair back to hide her tattoos and look less like a fish out of water and take some attention away from herself. She had to be convinced to go back to leg wraps (it's an extra pair of Solas she adapted to her size).

The teal doublet in her Casual Skyhold attire was the one thing she really asked for when Josephine and Leliana cornered her down to choose a wardrobe that was tailored on her. She doesn't really care all that much for clothes, she just... Hinted at Josie her colour palette, the fact that she doesn't like restrictive skirts and hates shoes, and a couple of infos on how the Lavellans dress up to compliment her wardrobe and bring something of home with her.

"And then, everything changed when the Inquisition Nation attacked". I realise afterwards, I would say I'm sorry if I actually were, but I'm not.

Halamshiral: I did two variations, number 1 is more inspired by Orlesian fashion, the silhouette is Orlesian but with a Dalish twist. I like the colours and how it brings to her formal outfit, but meh. Number 2 is the one I got with and what she actually wore. She couldn't be turned down from wearing a more disctinctly Dalish style dress to that ball, she just conceded in wearing shoes underneath (no socks, she slipped off her shoes to explore the palace and silk stockings would just be pointlessly ruined). Number 3 is the more historically accurate version, fully 1643 fashion I drew for the Three Musketeers inspired series. I kept it because I'm affectionate to it.

Wedding: She pulled it out in Lavellan style in maybe half an hour, braided some elfroot for her crown and picked some forget-me-nots from a flower bed. No she's not feeling very well, the Anchor is flaring and she lost weight.

Post-Trespasser in the Fereldan countryside, embracing local hairstyles. New foot thingies Dagna designed to be easier to pull on and off by herself with just one hand. She begrudgingly admitted that skirts are not that impractical. Lots of heavy sweaters because IT COLD. I wanted to paint some tartan so here you go, there's no really any more reason to it.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor lavellan #concept art #da art #da fanart #aisling lavellan #greypetrel #dalish #dalish inquisitor #dai #fashion

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deadeyeedangel · 21 days

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trial run - moira o'deorain x intern!reader

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ hi ! it's my wife's birthday today, so naturally i thought i'd finally get around to those hcs i was planning on writing! these posts will probably never be formatted with those pretty little headers i see around and i'm pretty unapologetic about it, i can't lie i kiiiinda care a lot less about the presentation and more about the actual writing and i'm a pretty busy person, soooo... sorry i guess? anyway sorry for yapping and i hope you all enjoy, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOCTOR O'DEORAIN!!!

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ TAGS: sfw, reader was meant to be fem but tbh no gendered terms are really used so reader can be seen as gender-neutral, age difference (reader is implied to be a doctoral student in early 20s), canon-divergent/au because i'm projecting my own internship problems here i cannot help it, moira being moira but it's way tamer than usual, actually kinda really fluffy i needed some comfort oops, mayyy make a part 2 with the date if you guys reeeeally want it :p

✧˚ · . suffice to say she wasn't a fan on your first day- to be honest she wasn't a fan even before then. the doctor preferred to work in solitude and silence, and hearing that she would have to practically babysit a doctoral student for a whole summer? forget it.

✧˚ · . she very begrudgingly opened up to the idea of having a shadow, however, after she found out her lab would be receiving more funding as a result of the research you were being hired to do. unfortunately that still didn't mean she liked you, though.

✧˚ · . you were young, fresh-faced and naïve, and when you shuffled in through the doors to her lab you were met with a cold presence that you didn't necessarily care for at all. it was what you were expecting when you were told who you would be working with, though, so it didn't come as a surprise. after all, no matter how much better you thought you would fare working alongside your sweet professor dr. ziegler, there was only one in the facility that could find even some use in a bioinformatics student.

✧˚ · . you barely had a moment to introduce yourself before the lanky irishwoman waved off your extended hand.

"wasting time will get you nowhere. unless you wish to bring me my coffee and just sit there every day, make yourself actually useful."

you were silent after that, doing exactly as she said and leaving her alone. no words were exchanged for the rest of the day.

✧˚ · . your first week was pretty unremarkable, but you were easing into the schedule you had made, making a small dent in the large workload you had to do for your thesis. moira was always just moira, working silently in her own corner of the lab and occasionally taking a break to examine your own work but saying nothing at all. by week two, however, the silence was beginning to drive you insane.

✧˚ · . your first real conversation was initiated, surprisingly, by moira. the older woman was hovering over your shoulder as usual, examining your catalogs of the dna structures and compositions of the various modified rabbits she kept in the lab, and she decided to snarkily point out you had missed a section. expecting that to be the only thing she had to say, you sighed and corrected it before moving on but she kept speaking, pointing out areas that you missed in a tone that you could only describe as pointed and patronizing.

✧˚ · . in certain... other situations, you'd find being talked to in this manner by a quite attractive older woman to be much more pleasant, but this was your hard work she was critiquing.

✧˚ · . don't worry, though, it's her love language. she might not say it but she wants you to succeed.

✧˚ · . expect more conversations about your work and hers. you begin to speak more in the mornings when you first walked in, and at nights when you left.

✧˚ · . as the days went by and your final deadline for your thesis was approaching quicker and quicker, you ended up spending nearly all 24 hours of each day in the lab, and of course, moira had noticed.

✧˚ · . she leaves small things out for you that she'd usually leave for just herself: two mugs of coffee now, two plates with some small meals, two shot glasses in case things got rather dire... but don't ask her about them, she'll shut down that it was her doing quite quickly.

✧˚ · . one very early morning she returns from the bathroom to find you slumped over your desk, fast asleep. your face was smushed against your keyboard, keying in a constant and ever-growing string of the letter h into your catalog. if you ever found out and asked, she would have simply said she didn't want the data to be messed up. however, that was most certainly not the case as she gingerly lifted your head up carefully to delete the keyboard smash, saving your work and turning off your computer before leaving you back to your rest.

✧˚ · . she was back at her work for a good five minutes before she decides to take her lab coat off, draping it over your still-sleeping form like a makeshift blanket. you woke up that morning confused but grateful, with a slightly flushed doctor o'deorain saying she simply didn't want you to get sick, as it was cold in the lab anyway.

✧˚ · . your thesis was due the day before your last day of work, and moira was quieter than usual. you've been stressed and working dilligently all day, but when you finally submit it right before the clock struck midnight, moira got up from her side of the lab, and retrieved two glasses and a bottle of champagne.

✧˚ · . you never thought she'd be the type to celebrate this sort of thing, especially when it took her away from her work, but when she motioned you to come over, you couldn't help but listen.

✧˚ · . clinking your glasses together, moira congratulated you on your work, and over the alcohol, conversation brewed quickly. you spoke of your plans for the future, your research, her research, discussion flowing for hours, as if it were meant to be. a well-received moment of relaxation for the doctor, you assumed, surprised she'd spend it with you rather than alone.

✧˚ · . she never got the chance to ask if perhaps the two of you could see each other... outside of the lab, maybe for dinner or a coffee. a trial run if anything, she said.

✧˚ · . or- well, she didn't really say it. angela came up to you after a class and told you on her behalf. nerd with a crush doing nerd with a crush things, i guess.

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #moira o'deorain #moira overwatch #moira x reader #i heart my bitch wife that wants to kill me #moira o'deorain x reader

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archiveikemen · 11 months

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"Black Wedding" Story Event: Chapter 2

William's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

William: You should be more selfish, my bride.

William lifted my chin with his fingers and smiled.

The alluring smile that always lured out my deepest desires never failed to drive me crazy.

William: … Ah, is it too early to call you my “bride”?

Kate: No, I want you to call me… anything you want.

Kate: Whether you call me your lover, partner, or bride… as long as it means something special to you, it'll make me happy.

William: Fufu… then I shall call you my bride.

He caressed my cheek with the fingers that were on my chin.

Kate: … Okay, Will.

I snuggled up against his fingers, drawn in by his loving gaze —

William: That’s why we’re here.

Will gently pulled his hand away from me.

(... I can’t do this.)

The passion in his red eyes nearly made me forget that we were on a mission.

William: Pardon us. My lover and I are obsessed with each other.

My heart was completely stolen by William.

(Is this what you meant by “show off to our hearts content”?)

I finally understood that he meant to say that instead of putting up an act, we would show our true feelings and be affectionate without holding back.

(That’s why he said it’s alright to just behave as usual.)

(But for some reason… this feels more embarrassing than I thought it would.)

While I was still looking down at my feet with my cheeks burning, a cultist cleared his throat.

Cultist: … Thank you for showing me that intimate exchange.

William: It's an honour to receive your praise.

Cultist: However, in order to ascertain that our guests are truly in love, they are required to complete 1 day of voluntary work. Will that be alright?

William: Yes, of course. It will be our pleasure.

…

The “voluntary work” consisted of simple tasks such as cleaning the church grounds and gardening.

Except that we were constantly being watched.

Kate: What’s that, Will?

William: Astrantia. It survives well in the cold, but not in the heat.

Kate: Fufufu, I’ll learn so much about flowers while walking with you.

In the church’s backyard, the flowers were in full bloom and there were many animals being kept.

I watered the flowers while watching the ducks swimming in the pond, and the sheep in their enclosure.

Kate: Hey, Will.

William: … Hm?

(Uh…)

The moment I looked up, I forgot what I had initially intended to say to him.

A robin was perched on Will’s shoulder.

Kate: It’s adorable…! What’s the matter with this little one?

William: It came when you weren’t looking.

William: It’s an honour for me to be chosen as its perch to rest on.

The robin chirped happily when Will gently patted it with his finger.

Kate: It seems like you’re communicating with it.

William: It might get itself captured if it lets its guard down like this.

Kate: Maybe it chose you because it thought you were a kind person who would look after it, instead of capturing it.

William: Fufu, I see.

(Hm…?)

Will turned his gaze away from the robin and towards me.

William: I’m sure that… it could fly around freely, but it’s choosing to stay here of its own will.

William: I can’t help treating it with affection while it’s within my reach.

Those words made my heart race because it felt like they were directed at me, and not the robin on his shoulder.

Kate: … Which “robin” are you talking about?

William: Which one do you think I am?

Kate: … Both?

William: That’s my bride. You’re right.

Will gently stroked my hair like he did with the robin, and kissed me on the forehead as a reward.

(Will is being sweeter than usual today because we have to “show off”.)

(It makes me happy, but… I might forget that we’re on a mission again and feel weird.)

William: Oops.

Just then, the robin flapped its wings and flew away.

It stopped on a signboard hanging at the sheep enclosure.

Kate: “A domesticated animal”...?

Kate: … I guess that means they’re safe?

William: I suppose.

William: An exclusive space that’s peaceful, controlled, and has no one going against them.

William: The herd of sheep surrounded by fences are the same as this church.

William: An ideal place for people who desire control.

After Will muttered those words, the cultist who was standing at the edge of the garden approached us.

William: … It seems that we’ve proved to be worthy of your acknowledgement.

Cultist: Yes, that’s right! The two of you are acknowledged to be a couple who are truly in love with each other.

(...!)

Cultist: Your wedding ceremony shall be held tomorrow.

William: … Ah, certainly.

Kate: Thank you.

(That means… tomorrow…)

(The Founder will be condemned for his sins on the spot at the wedding ceremony.)

As I watched the cultist leave, Will said invitingly in a melodious tone.

William: Well then.

William: I should give this little robin over here who’s still within my reach a nice dress.

…

Afterwards, Will brought me to a tailor he was well-acquainted with.

(Wow…)

The wedding dresses that the store clerks had laid out for me were so dazzling that I couldn't help squinting my eyes when I saw them.

Kate: W-Will… I can’t make up my mind with so many to choose from…!

William: Ahaha, you can pick whichever you like. You don’t have to worry about the time, just do as you wish.

William: Oh, but of course… if you want me to choose for you, I’ll gladly oblige.

(... Have him choose a dress for me?)

I wondered what kind of dress William would choose for the wedding.

Kate: In that case… can you pick one out for me?

William: Hmm… let's see…

Like he was selecting a flower from a field of colourful flowers, Will chose a wedding dress for me.

(Wow… it’s gorgeous.)

The dress Will chose was jet black with intricate embroidery.

Kate: It’s wonderful…

I reached out for it, and the soft fabric running through my fingers felt satisfying to touch.

Kate: Oh… but it’s not red in colour.

William: Haha, did it surprise you?

Kate: Previously, you said that the colour red suited me…

He narrowed his eyes while I struggled to figure out the reason behind his decision.

William: I’m the only one who should know what colour suits you best.

William: Even if the other person is God, they’re unworthy of knowing what colour you look most beautiful in.

(Ah… I see.)

The very moment I decided to love Will, I had accepted the sin, the punishment — and even the inevitable death that awaited me.

(I swore my life to him.)

The blood that flowed through my body would be the one to dye his destruction red.

(Will swore to see that with his own eyes till the very end.)

If we were to have a real wedding…

Who to and what would we, who live in the darkness, swear?

The answer was clear.

(We’ll swear ourselves to each other… not anyone else.)

(We’ll swear to love each other till the end.)

We would pledge nothing to no one else.

That was our form of unwavering love.

Kate: … I’m happy to hear that, Will.

William: That’s great. I’m looking forward to our wedding ceremony tomorrow.

…

On the day of our “wedding” — I left our room wearing the black wedding dress Will had chosen for me.

Kate: … Will.

William: …

When Will looked at me, I thought I saw his red eyes widen a little.

Kate: What do you think…? Does it look good on me?

William: … Yeah, it looks great on you.

William: You looked so amazing that I couldn’t speak.

Kate: Fufu… you being at a loss for words is a very precious moment.

William: I hope you know that’s how gorgeous you look right now.

Kate: Yes, I got it.

Will smiled and extended a hand to me.

Feeling intoxicated from that sweet happiness, I took his hand.

As long as I was with him, no matter what happens in the future, I would have no regrets.

Even if it was the endless darkness that awaited us in the sacred place behind this door.

William: Come, we shall vow our love to each other, my bride from the darkness.

…

When we walked through the chapel together, we saw an unfamiliar man standing at the altar.

(This man is…)

The long-haired man wore glasses and had a gentle aura, he was the one who committed those murders.

Founder: Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Amor, the representative of Amour.

Amor: The two of you have been acknowledged by my believers to be a couple that's truly in love with each other.

Amor: Congratulations, lovebirds.

William • Kate: …

Amor: Upon making your vows in this sacred place, you shall have eternal love bestowed upon you.

Amor: Do you vow to love and cherish each other through the good times and the bad, whether you’re rich or poor, in sickness and in health, and until death separates you?

(We—)

William • Kate: I don’t.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil story event #niki translates

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abnormal-tulip · 4 months

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frosty iku icons for the holidays! kept forgetting to post them < /3 i don't have a song for this so uhhhh. oops :3 might do some for new years i'm addicted to this [/silly] also! please tell me if you need me to take this down or something if your art's here

#acme iku #utauloid #utau #maidloid #winter icons #icons #i dunno how to tag this stuff man......

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bizarredalek · 1 year

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Phone Call

Thirteenth Doctor x Reader

Word count: 10,683

Summary: Reader suffers a severe injury and in their final moments they call the Doctor for one final goodbye

Warnings: hurt/comfort, reader gets shot (twice), blood, nightmares

A/N: I’ve had this posted on my ao3 since August lmao I kept forgetting to put it here oop

Call me whenever you need or if you’re ready to come back to the Tardis.

The Doctors voice had been ringing in your head for a few days now. You had asked her to drop you off at home for a bit because you had some errands you needed to do for a few days or so, and she understood. She made sure you had the Tardis phone number – her number, for when you were all set to come back.

‘One more day should be enough,’ you thought.

You were walking back to your house; you had just spent the day with your family. Thankfully, the Doctor put you back in the correct time, so it’s only been a few days since you had last seen them, and not a year or so later – that would have been a disaster. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you started travelling with the Doctor, but you knew you were starting to miss your family, and it was nice seeing them again.

“Home sweet home,” you said to no one in particular as your house came into view, but the words felt empty and wrong on your tongue.

You felt that since being on the Tardis that special blue box had become more your home than the building in front of you. You sighed and trudged up to the front door. When you fished out your keys out of your pocket and put it in the lock, the twist of the key didn’t bring the familiar click of the door unlocking.

The door was already unlocked, and you were positive that you had locked it when you left earlier that day. The door slowly creaked open as you pushed your way inside, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine. Your first thought was that there was an intruder in your place.

You really hoped you were wrong.

Sneaking your way through the hallways you made sure to grab the first thing you could think of as a weapon, cutting through the kitchen in case you did find someone in your house. Admittedly, it was a frying pan, not the most menacing of weapons, you thought, but if you did find that someone had broken in, you reckoned you could give one hell of a swing on them.

You didn’t have to look very far when you started to hear drawers and things being opened in the living room. You cursed under your breath, it was already too late to turn back now, you were sure if you tried to back out of the house whatever it was that was rummaging around your space would hear you. The thought of calling the Doctor for help briefly crossed your mind, but you shook that thought away. This was probably nothing.

Please be an animal, please be an animal.

You peeked the corner to see it was not in fact an animal, but a kid, maybe a teenager, that was searching around your belongings. In his left hand he held a gun. Your heart stopped in dread thinking that if he caught you he probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you, whether it was purposeful or accidental.

‘What to do. What to do,’ you thought.

You considered rushing up behind him and knocking him out, but how could you wack a kid on the head before trying to sneak back out the front door to call for the police. Either option would probably end with you dead in your house. You unconsciously took a step back away from the living room, accidentally knocking your foot into the cabinet. The blood in your face drained, all colour gone. Your heart beat loud in your ears, louder than the rushed footsteps coming at you.

The kid robber rounded the corner and drew his gun on you. You froze. You could see the weapon in his hand tremble, and you guessed that he must’ve been to breaking and entering peoples’ homes. You could probably talk yourself out of harm. You very slowly placed the pan in your hand on the ground by your feet and stood straight with your hands in front of you.

“Listen,” you started to say. “I don’t have a lot of valuables, but you can have whatever you found, alright?”

His arm started to falter and drop, and you let out a huge sigh of relief, but a sudden loud noise from outside startled the both of you. The boy gasped in fright, his finger squeezing the trigger. The loud bang made you jump.

At first you had thought that he missed, and you almost relaxed thinking that you were going to be okay.

Almost

Something wet began to soak through your shirt, and you looked down in horror as your clothing dyed itself red. Your legs trembled under your weight, and you collapsed on the floor.

The action startled the kid again, his attention having been on the direction of the noise. His grasped flinched, your body jerking as another bullet pierced your frame. It was higher this time; the first one hit your stomach and the second just under where your heart was. Both bullets did not go through all the way or cleanly.

You were confused that you weren’t in any pain; was your adrenaline so high that it just blocked it out?

You laid on the floor in shock. You were just shot, you were shot by a kid, and he just panicked and ran to the door. You wanted to stop him, to get him to come back and call for help, but your voice refused to work. You could only let out short breaths, your lungs aching as you did so.

Your shirt was a deep red colour now, nearly covering the whole material, soaked in your blood. Your injuries felt like how you could only describe as a burning fire, and that fire was slowly trying to consume you. Your hands shook violently as you tried to put pressure on the wound, a cry of pain slipping past your lips.

What were you going to do?

Call me whenever you need.

A surge of determination overtook the fire and you forced yourself to get off the floor. You stood on shaking legs and stumbled your way to where your home phone was in the kitchen – a quick pat of your pockets told you your cellphone was missing from you person, either it fell out or it was stolen. Regardless, you didn’t care very much in this moment.

You grabbed a dishcloth to press against the wound against your chest, which was bleeding faster than the other. Pressing with as much pressure as you could muster, you dialed a familiar number that had been on your mind all day. You hoped that the person on the other side would pick up.

“Hello, the Tardis speaking!” the Doctors voice was easily recognizable through the speaker.

You smiled at the sound of her voice. It almost seemed to ease the agonizing pain in your body. You slid down the wall to sit on the floor, the phone still pressed firmly against your ear.

“H-hey, Doctor,” you replied, clearing your throat to hide the tremble wanting to come out.

The Doctor excitedly said your name and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “Hey! I wasn’t expecting your call for at least another day. Change in plans?”

You winced, muffling your cry of pain as you pressed harder on you wound. “Ah, not really. I just wanted to catch up with you, ask how your day has been. I just missed you, you know? Haven’t seen you in a while, h-how you been?”

If the Doctor had any idea you were hiding something from her, or that something was wrong, she didn’t show it when she talked. “Oh, you, know, I’m alright. Been here and there and, well, everywhere. Saved the universe, the usual.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly, into the phone. “You always have the craziest adventures don’t you, Doctor?”

She also laughed, a beautiful sound, you wished she’d do it more. “Yeah, well, they’re no fun without you. When are you planning on coming back to the Tardis? I’ve got something fun planned. Imagine; sparkling blue waterfalls that fall from clouds and beaches of the softest sands.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you said almost sadly, a beautiful place that you will never get to see. You looked down to see the blood-soaked cloth and took note that the blood was not slowing down or stopping, the once white material was a deep dark red and poured down your side to form a puddle underneath you. Damnit this is bad. You were getting lightheaded and dizzy. You were glad that you were already sitting down, you didn’t want the Doctor to hear you stumble and fall. Pulling your shirt up to really look at your wound you saw the red angry skin that greeted you. “I was thinking soon. I’ve done all that I needed to do, figured I could use a day to relax, you know?”

“Absolutely!” You wished you could have seen the way her eyes lit up. “Just give me a shout, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, pulling your shirt back down. It was stupid not to tell the Doctor that you were hurt, dying even, you knew you were, but you didn’t want her to worry about you. You couldn’t do that to her, even though you thought it just as cruel, if not more, that she would most likely find you after you had already passed.

“So, tell me about your latest universe save,” you asked, trying to take your mind off the numbness in your fingers.

And so, the Doctor began her tale, and you clung to every word that she spoke. “Well, it was thousands of years in the future, right, and I went to go visit a planet that I used to go to all the time. Anyway, the place was beautiful, waters as clear as air you can almost see all the way to the bottom, so clear you almost couldn’t even see it, and the air was so fresh, and it smelled like vanilla if you could believe it!”

“Wow,” you whispered. Another place you’ll never get to see.

As you continued to listen to the Doctors story your mind couldn’t help but wander. You started to think about all the amazing adventures you had with the Doctor, how great your life had become after you met her, all those worlds you’ve seen, the lives you saved, seeing the people you’ve learned about in books and school. All the running you did, and, oh man, did you two go far.

Then, you thought about her. You thought about her smile as it lit up the darkest room, her eyes that held the universe in them, and her hearts that held so much kindness.

Tears slowly slipped down your cheeks. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, you couldn’t get any air into your lungs, and you hoped you weren’t wheezing into the Doctors ear, hoping that you didn’t interrupt her story.

The numbness grew from your finger, you could barely feel the phone in your hand, and it travelled up your arms and down your legs. Your arm had begun to shake and tremble, making it difficult to keep the phone up, but you held on, you held on for her.

You knew you were never going to see her again, and you accepted that, but as much as you wanted to tell her what happened to you, how you needed her, you knew it was too late for her to help you now. It was up to the Doctor if she decided if she wanted to time travel to save you before you got shot, but you wouldn’t hold any hate towards her if she decided not to, and you were happy that she was there to pick up the phone.

Your body jerked when the Doctor suddenly called your name in your ear. “You still there? Haven’t gone to sleep on me have you?”

You were confused at what had happened. You didn’t remember closing your eyes. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I think I dozed off for a second.”

“Hope my story wasn’t boring you.”

“No!” you told her. “No, as if anything you say could be boring.”

You could feel your heartbeat pick up faster trying to work overtime with the blood it had left over in your body to work with, to keep you alive. This is bad. Please, please hold on a little longer, not yet.

The Doctor hummed through the speaker. “It is getting quite late for you. You should go to bed, and I’ll see you later, yeah?”

No please don’t go.

You looked up at the window and saw that the sky was in fact getting darker, and you wondered how long it’s been since you got home.

“Not yet,” you told her, hiding the hitch in your voice as you shifted. “I want to hear more of your stories.”

“Well, there’s plenty of times for stories when you get back to the Tardis,” she told you.

A single tear slipped down your cheek. “Where’s one place you always wanted to go, Doctor?”

A moment of silence. “I don’t know, when there are so many places to visit it’s hard to pick just one. What about you? Where’s one place you want to go?”

You laughed; eyes transfixed on the red puddle that slowly covered white tile floors. “The place of cloud waterfalls and soft beaches.”

Whatever the Doctor said next fell on deaf ears as you zoned out, and it was getting difficult to keep your eyes open.

“You should go to bed,” was the next thing you heard.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah, I-I’ll see you later. Goodbye, Doctor.”

With a goodnight and goodbye of her own you kept the phone to your ear until you heard the familiar click of the call ending. You let your arm drop, the back of your hand landing on the red stained floor underneath you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled tiredly, your body slumping against the counter beside you. “I’m sorry…Doctor.”

Death’s door had opened for you and his skeletal hand reached out to beckon you into his peaceful embrace, an embrace that promised that you wouldn’t feel this pain anymore. You weren’t going to fight it anymore, you held on long enough to say goodbye to the Doctor, your life was filled with adventure after meeting her and you wouldn’t have asked for anything else. You wouldn’t stop the smile that lifted your face, and this time you let your eyes fully close.

The Doctor on the other hand stared at her phone in puzzlement. Her hearts were telling her something was off. Everything screamed at her to go check up on you, even the Tardis whirred her own concern urging her pilot to go. The Doctor, at first, thought she was overreacting, of course everything was fine, you are fine. She didn’t want to be bothersome when it most likely nothing but…then again there was something about your call that didn’t sit well with her.

Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong!

“I know!” the Doctor gave in, already rushing around the console room.

The Tardis had already set a course for your house, and she did not waste any time, not when your life may be on the line. As soon as she landed the Doctor ran out of the Time Machine, the Tardis just barely having enough time to open the doors for her.

The Doctor ran into your house, your front door was wide open which made her hearts drop into her stomach in fear. You never left your door open. Her boots thundered across the hardwood floor of your home as she shouted your name, trying to get you to reply to her. She hoped she was just overreacting and that you’ll come downstairs to greet her asking her what she was doing here, but you didn’t, the house remained still and silent while the Doctors voice echoed through empty halls.

Her voice died in her throat, her feet stopping dead in their tracks. She reached the kitchen, and there she found you. She felt tears in her eyes as she looked at your still body. You were lying limp against the counter beside you, your face was drained of all colour. Seemingly lifeless. Your arm laid across your stomach holding a cloth against you, your other hand holding the phone you used to call her. Your fingers were stained red.

Her hearts ached painfully in her chest when she looked at the large deep red puddle of blood that pooled under your body, and her eyes followed the red trail from the kitchen to the living room where the red had started.

“No, no, no,” the Doctor rushed to your side and pulled you into her arms.

She cradled your head against her and wrapped her arm around your shoulders to support you. She whispered your name a few times, her voice cracking but trying to be strong.

She tapped your leg to get a reaction from you, a noise, a twitch, something, but you didn’t even flinch. The Doctor urgently placed her fingers on your neck and held her breath, hoping for a pulse.

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

A faint ba-bump under her hand made the Doctor release the breath she had been holding. It was weak and barely there, but she could feel your shallow breathing against her neck, and that was enough for the Doctor to know you were alive.

She scooped the rest of you into her arms, standing slowly and carefully, so she didn’t hurt you more. Your blood stained her clothes while she carried you to the Tardis, but she didn’t care, the only thing that mattered to the Doctor was saving your life. You were the only thing that was on her mind, and she refused to let you go. She ignored the Tardis’s whirrs of concern and worry as she assessed your condition.

The Doctor took you straight to the infirmary room and put you down on the medical bed. She whispered strings of apologies when you whimpered, the movement jostling you. It was the first sound you made since she found you, but you still remained unconscious.

The Doctor made quick work to tear your shirt off of you so she could see your injuries. It wasn’t hard for her to find the bullets wounds in your chest and stomach, both were still bleeding pretty badly, and her hearts ached again.

Why didn’t you tell her? She could have helped you! She banished the thought. She couldn’t be angry. She wouldn’t.

The bullet wounds didn’t have an exit point, and a quick scan confirmed the Doctor’s theory that the bullets were still inside you. She knew that if she was to save you, she’d have to do surgery. She had to stop you from going somewhere she couldn’t follow.

The Doctor left your side to gather her necessary tools and anesthetic. It would keep you sleeping, and hopefully you wouldn’t feel any more pain. You groaned, catching the Doctors attention. She had stepped away too soon, your eyes blinking open.

She was by your side in the blink of your eyes. The Doctor took note of how unfocused they were, your pupils barely dilating when she shined the light of her sonic over them. You had lost a lot of blood.

She placed her hand on your pale cheek, whispering your name. “Can you hear me?”

You blinked again, and the Doctor watched your face scrunch up as you tried to speak. Under different circumstances, she would’ve found the expression cute. “D-Doctor?”

“Hey,” she smiled, moving her hand up to brush your hair back. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re not here,” you said instead.

The Doctor was taken aback. How could you think that she wasn’t there with you? “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

You shook your head, the motion used up a lot of your remaining energy. “No, the Doctor is still in the Tardis far… far away.”

The Doctor knew you wouldn’t believe her no matter how often she told you that she was real. You were so delirious from blood loss it would be hard to convince you. Instead, she brought all her tools to your side and quickly got the anesthesia ready for you.

“What would you tell her if she was here?” the Doctor asked you.

You groaned in pain. “That ‘m sorry. Didn’t … didn’t want ‘er to worry a-about me.” You took in a shaky breath. “I-It hurts.” “I know,” the Doctor shushed you, running her hand through your hair. “I’m going to help you, okay?” The Doctor placed the mask over your mouth and nose. “Take as many deep breathes as you can manage.”

“Just let me go,” you whispered, voice muffled from the mask.

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor said. “Just take a breath and the next time you wake you’ll be better.”

You did as she told, taking in as much air as your lungs would allow. You noticed how you weren’t feeling as much pain as before. The fire that burned your skin was extinguishing, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“I’m scared,” you mumbled, your eyes blinking tiredly at the blonde angel above you.

The Doctor inhaled sharply. Her thumb gently brushing away a tear that you probably weren’t even aware was falling down your cheek.

“It’ll be okay,” she told you, watching as you finally succumbed to a deep long sleep. Hopefully, it was a sleep where you weren’t hurting, where you could forget about your injuries. If only for a moment.

The Doctor kept the mask over your face to keep you under until she was done the operation. She hovered her sonic over your body, finding the exact place where the bullets were. The one in your stomach didn’t appear to have caused any severe internal damages, but the other… the other was buried deep into your chest. It had nicked your heart and would move and damage more of you with every breath you took. She took note of your ever slowing heartbeat. The Doctor moved to grab her tools and she took a deep breath.

“You’ll be okay.”

And she started working.

~~~

Hours went by until the Doctor finally allowed herself to rest when. Your vitals had finally stabilized. You were still unconscious on the bed, looking almost peaceful. If it wasn’t for your cold pale skin and bandage wrapped torso, one would think you were merely sleeping.

There were a few close calls where your heart had stopped, but she was able to bring you back every time. The Doctor watched your chest subtly move up and down with your breaths; her only reassurance that you were still alive, save for the rhythmic beeping that mimicked your heartbeat. Her own hearts clenched and skipped a beat of their own as she took in your old bloody clothes and the two bullets she had removed during surgery.

The Doctor sighed, cleaning the mess before leaving to quickly change her clothes. The blood, your blood, had already dried on her. It made her sick. She hadn’t been there to protect you.

Unable to handle the sight of stained red and brown on light blue, she threw off her coat, making short work of changing into cleaner clothes before she made her way back to your side. She had to be there for you now.

‘You were fine. You are fine.’

The Doctor brought a chair to your bedside and sat down. You weren’t out of the woods yet. The Doctor needed to know you were okay, that she was aware of your condition, make sure it didn’t drastically drop.

She carefully took your limp hand in hers and started to run her thumb over the back of your hand. Whether it was supposed to be a comfort for you or her, she wasn’t sure. “Please be okay,” she whispered.

You didn’t respond, of course you didn’t respond. How could you, you were lost in your body, and it was unknown when you would wake again.

The Doctor sighed and rested her head next to your arm, absentmindedly drawing patterns on the back of your hand. Perhaps she’d allow herself a few moments to rest her eyes. It didn’t take long for the faint beeping behind her to lull her into sleep.

The bed trembled, forcing the Doctors eyes open. She shook herself of her sleep haze and rushed to stand, checking what was wrong. Your body was shaking, jerking in violent motions. Your face was twisted in pain, marred by the blood coming out of the side of your mouth.

Your vitals were high, up to levels the Doctor thought not possible for a human. She tried to do a quick scan of you, but her sonic wasn’t working. She hit it against her palm, but only got a small spark of life before it died again. In a huff, she threw it to the side and tore the bandages off of you.

She froze.

The skin around your wounds were a deep purple and black in colour, it almost seemed to come out of the bullet wounds themselves. The Doctor had never seen anything like this before, it shouldn’t be happening, there should be no reason this was happening to you.

She ran around the infirmary looking for something, anything, to help you, to stop this from spreading further. A long, dull electronic note made her pause. She looked over at you, your body motionless in the bed.

The machine monitoring your heart had flat-lined.

“No, no, no!” the Doctor cried. “Come on!”

She ran over, trying CPR to get your heart beating again, to get you breathing. Why was this happening, this shouldn’t be happening! All this fancy tech and advanced medicines and she was losing you. She couldn’t lose you! What would she do without you? She had so many things she wanted to show you. Stupid, stupid Doctor! She should’ve been there with you; she could’ve stopped this! Her and her useless big brain and she couldn’t save you-

The Doctor jolted upright, and she tumbled out of her chair. Her eyes were cloudy and unfocused. Her hearts drummed loudly in her ears, almost drowning out the electronic beeping of the heartbeat monitor. The Doctors face scrunched up in confusion, why could she hear a heartbeat monitor?

The fog cleared in her mind - your heartbeat monitor! She stood on shaky legs, still half asleep, and looked at the machine. Its steady, monotonous rhythmic beeping calming her. She took a deep breath to slow her hammering hearts.

Her eyes moved from the machine to your still form, just able to see your chest slowly rising and falling with your breathing. The Doctor couldn’t help but reach out to place her hand right over your heart, feeling the weak thumping under her palm. It was small, but it was there, and it was getting better.

“Just a dream,” she said.

The Doctor ran a hand over her face, wiping away the lingering sleep and nightmare, and sighed. The nightmare left her shaken, her hand never leaving its place over your heart, helping calm hers down. She jumped when the Tardis hummed down at her.

“It’s okay,” she assured the Time Machine. “I need to find out what happened.”

With a final check on you she went to the console room. The Doctor pulled down levers and set the date for the same day, but hours before she got the call from you. The Tardis wheezed and trembled when she landed, but before the Doctor could run out the front doors again the monitor lit up.

“What?” the Doctor asked and going back to read it.

The words “Fixed Point” stared back at her and the Doctor felt like she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t stop you from being hurt. Couldn’t stop the pain you were feeling right now.

The Doctor was furious, not at you, never at you. No, she was furious at whoever it was that shot you, so furious she turned away from the monitor and marched out of the Tardis.

She was parked on the other side of the street, tucked away out of sight, but your house was the only thing the Doctor could see. She watched past you stand on your front step and lock the door, before leaving to go visit your family. It was hard for the Doctor to watch you walk down the street, completely unaware of what was waiting for you when you came back.

It was hard too for the Doctor to not go warn you, to tell you not to go home, to do anything to keep you from your fate. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t do anything, and it was the worst pain she had ever felt.

She didn’t know how long it was that she waited there waiting for something to happen, and it wasn’t until that the sun had begun to set that she noticed a boy, he looked to be in his teens, trying to make his way up the steps of your house and fiddle with the lock.

Rage began to build inside the Doctor when she realized that this is who shot you, and she very nearly went to confront him - but she was stopped in place.

Fixed point, fixed point, fixed point.

Her jaw clenched and her feet stayed glued to the concrete below watching the kid sneak into your home. It was maybe an hour or so before she saw you walking back. You seemed less energetic than when she saw you leave, your feet dragging behind you.

You glanced at your house with a look of unfamiliarity in your eye, like you didn’t want to go back in. She watched you walk up the steps, and oh so badly wanted to run over and stop you from going in. When you disappeared inside the house the Doctor waited … And waited … And waited, until-

Bang!

The Doctor trembled in anger. She hated this, but she had to know. Her feet were glued to the ground despite her attempts to lean forward to run in and stop this.

Bang!

The second one. The worst one. All time seemed to have stopped after that second shot. She watched as the shooter ran out of your house in a panic, leaving your front door open, and you inside. The Doctor couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t handle knowing that currently in the past you were laying in your house bleeding and dying and alone.

She forced herself to turn around and go back into the Tardis, where present you was injured and unconscious, but alive. When the Tardis doors shut behind her the Doctor collapsed on the floor, her mind replaying the scene over and over again. It felt like her hearts broke and died with both shots that nearly took you from her.

~~~ You groaned as your consciousness came back to you. You felt numb, and every movement ached and protested. You tried shifting around to ease the tension in your body, but a pained gasp left you, your back arching in an attempt to get away from the fire that threatened to burn through you.

You didn’t hear the door sliding open, or the heavy footfalls that followed, your ears feeling as if someone had them covered.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed the burning to stop. You scratched at the burning, at the material on you. Get it off, get it off, get it off.

Your hands met something wet, but you didn’t stop. It hurt so much. A call of your name, or what you think was your name, barely broke through the muffled space.

Suddenly, hands grabbed your wrists, moving you away from where you were scratching. You thrashed in their hold, but they remained strong and unmoving. You sobbed as the burn turned into a roaring fire. The hands wrapped around your wrist never loosened, pinning yours to your sides. You squirmed, thrashed, bucked to be released.

“Hey, hey, hey!” a shadow loomed over you, completely blocking the harsh light above you. Blonde hair lightly brushed over your cheek. “Shh, shh, easy!”

Tears streamed down your face, the fire burning worse and worse. “Make it stop!”

“I know,” the shadow said. “I know it hurts, but you’re healing.”

The Doctor moved both your wrists to one of her hands so she could wipe your tears away and check the bandage. You had done some damage to the wrapping, and it had started to stain red.

The Doctor had to remind herself to keep calm. If she wasn’t then you could hurt yourself trying to get away. The Doctor had hoped that you would stay sleeping while the nanobots did their thing healing you.

Normally, the process wouldn’t really hurt, but it could cause some forms of irritation. In your case, since you were literally being stitched together from the inside out, it caused that severe burning.

“Just calm down,” she soothed. “Listen to my voice. You’re okay. I know it hurts right now but I promise that it will pass.”

You whimpered in response, still trying to tug your arms free, but you were too weak to make any real effort.

“I can get you something for the pain, but you can’t claw at it anymore, okay?” She asked.

You gazed up at the shadow again, it felt familiar to you, so you nodded, feeling like you could trust it. The Doctor released your hands, watching you to make sure that you didn’t try to tear at it again, and reached into the drawer nearby to pull out an injector. She showed it to you.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

You nodded almost immediately. Of course, you trusted the Doctor, even if you didn’t know that the shadow person in front of you was the Doctor. “Yes.”

The Doctor nodded and placed the injector to the side of your neck and squeezed. It was something close to nanogenes, but instead of healing you instantly like she wanted, they worked to stitch you up from the inside out, especially so close to your heart to make sure you didn’t unexpectedly go into cardiac arrest.

Your head twitched at the pinch you felt, but when you tried to ask you what it was you, your tiredness took hold. You whined; you didn’t want to sleep again.

“I know,” the Doctor started to say. “You’ll feel better soon.”

With your bandages redone and you softly resting, the Doctors attention drifted down to your hands. Your fingers were red, your blood slowly matting and dry, into your palms. It was no doubt uncomfortable on your skin, and the sight pulled at the Doctors hearts in the most uncomfortable way.

The Doctor grabbed a wet washcloth and carefully cleaned your hands. Her mind drifted away as she did her task. She couldn’t stop the sob that left her, and the cloth dropped to the floor. She brought her head down so she could press your hand to her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”

It was hours until you woke up again, groggy and disoriented. You couldn’t recall where you were and what happened. You felt stiff and groaned when a muscle in your leg pulled when you tried to stretch.

A warmth in your hand drew your attention. Familiar blonde hair and a light blue coat sat in a chair beside you, her hand, occasionally twitching, in yours

“D-Doctor?”

The Doctors head jerked up and met your hazy eyes. You could still feel the effects of the pain medication.

“Hey,” she whispered and gave your hand a squeeze. Her hearts skipped a beat when you gave a weak squeeze in return. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and your head rolled to the side so you could look at the Doctor. “Am I dead?”

The Doctor shook her head, her eyes holding her uncontained sadness. “Of course not. You’re here on the Tardis with me.”

You frowned at that, trying to pull your thoughts together, but couldn’t think through the fog clouding your mind. Instead, you tried to sit up, but the Doctors hands grabbed your shoulders to gently push you back down on the bed.

“No, no,” she told you. “Don’t try to get up yet, you haven’t healed completely.”

“How am I … here?” you asked.

The Doctor sighed. “How much do you remember? Do you remember calling me?”

You tried to think. You remembered coming home and that someone was in your house and … oh.

A loud bang echoed through your memories and you jumped, suddenly sitting up and backing away from the Doctors hands, nearly falling off the bed. Your hand went to your chest where the second bullet had hit you. You could feel the slight indent under the bandage, and your breath left you.

“I-I-I,” you gasped, struggling to breathe.

“Shh, shh,” the Doctor soothed. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” She gently grabbed your hand and pulled it away from your chest, worried that you might start hurting yourself again, and laced your fingers together.

“T-There was a … g-gun,” you tried to get out.

The Doctor nodded. “You were shot, and you called me after.”

“T-The blood wouldn’t s-stop.”

A squeeze from the Doctors hand. “I knew something wasn’t right and I went to see you. When I found you, you were…” she trailed off, a sad pained look in her eyes. “I brought you back to the Tardis.”

“I didn’t … I’m … I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Doctor, I didn’t…”

You couldn’t get it out. You couldn’t tell her how sorry you were that you were dying and that you wouldn’t tell her, how sorry you were that she had to find you as you were. She probably hates you now, hates that she had to waste her time bringing you back.

The Doctor didn’t say anything, just tugged gently on your hand until you had no choice but to shift closer to her and lean against her side. Your wounds protested with the movement, and you inhaled sharply. You hated this, this feeling of helplessness.

The Doctor carefully wrapped her arm around your shoulder to better support you, her other hand still held yours. You could feel her double heartbeats under you.

“I’m not mad,” she told you.

You looked up from you intertwined hands in shock. Her words confused you. How she knew what you were thinking, and how could she not be mad at you? “H-how?”

“You’re very easy to read,” she told you, running her thumb over your wrist. She could feel your still weak beating heart. “You mean so much to me, I was so scared when I found you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears at her words, you didn’t know which situation would be worse; the Doctor being mad, or the Doctor forgiving you so fast.

“I’m sorry,” you cried into her shoulder.

The Doctor shushed you, whispering gentle nothings in your ear until you calmed. You stayed in the Doctors embrace until your tears dried and both of you were just leaning into each other, taking in each other’s presence. You were still in pain, and the Doctor gave you another injection when she noticed.

“Are you getting tired?” the Doctor asked you.

She noticed that you were starting to nod off against her shoulder after a few hours. She couldn’t help the small smile on her face, her hearts giving a strong thump the longer she looked at you. You were alive!

“Just a little,” you admitted, sighing and relaxing fully into the Doctors body. “I think the pain meds are kicking in again.” “You should get some more sleep,” she told you, and untangled herself to help you lay back down. “Here. Slow, slow.”

You grunted, your wound flaring, and sighed when you head met the soft pillow under you. The Doctor pulled the blanket up over you and told you that she was just going to do some Tardis maintenance and if you needed her to give her a shout. She was just about to leave when you thought of a memory.

Call me whenever you need.

You grabbed the sleeve of her coat. The Doctor paused, turning to see your frightened eyes.

“Stay,” you said before she could ask what was wrong. “Please, stay.”

The Doctor nodded, moving to go sit back in the chair that she had been occupying during your recovery, but another tug of her sleeve stopped her.

“No,” you said again. You moved to the side of the bed, giving another tug. “Here. Please.” The Doctor’s hearts picked up. You wanted her to lay in the same bed as you. “I don’t want-”

“You won’t,” you cut her off.

The Doctor allowed herself to be pulled back towards the bed. She shrugged off her coat, tossing it onto the chair before sliding into the bed. When the Doctor settled under the blanket with you, you shifted and squirmed so you could lay on your side, facing the Doctor without kicking her or hurting yourself more.

“You should lay on your back,” the Doctor started to say. “It would be more comfortable for you.”

“Ever the Doctor,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I’m okay, I just want to lay like this for a bit.”

The Doctor didn’t say anything after that, and she turned herself over so the both of you were facing each other. It wasn’t until this moment that you saw how tired the Doctor looked. There were dark circles under her eyes, the whites tinted pink. Either from sleep deprivation, crying, or both, you weren’t sure.

You reached your hand out and ran a finger down her cheek. The Doctor closed her eyes under your touch and sighed, and she seemed to fully relax and sag into the pillow.

She took your hand and held it tight - as if afraid that if she let go you would disappear, and brought your clasped hands close. She placed a kiss on the palm of your hand before settling into a restful sleep.

Your face warmed at her actions, the skin on your hand tingled from her kiss. You tried to ignore it and closed your eyes to sleep, held the Doctors just a little bit tighter.

When you woke up the next morning you were surprised to see that the Doctor was still sleeping in your bed. You had honestly expected her to be already up and doing whatever it is that she does, so you guessed that she probably hadn’t been sleeping while you were unconscious. It was a rare sight to see the Doctor sleeping anyway. She was always claiming that Time Lords didn’t need as much sleep as humans, and you wanted to take this in while you still could.

The Doctors eyes opened not long after you woke, and you were mesmerized by the colour. You never really took too much notice of them - you knew what colour they were, but now being as close as you were, you were finally able to see the colours hidden underneath.

They weren’t just hazel. You could really see the mix of green and brown, and, surprisingly, little gold flakes that seemed to dance across her eyes. They almost reminded you of space and stars. You looked away before you would get lost in those colours, your face growing warm.

“Morning,” she said to you. “How are you feeling?”

You lifted your hand to where you knew the entry wound was, only to find it nearly smooth. “Better,” you told her. “It’s still sore, but good.”

“Good.” The Doctor got up from the bed and threw her coat back on. “I don’t want you doing anything to strain yourself. So, no adventures until you are 100%, alright?”

You mock saluted. “Yes ma’am.”

The Doctor took one of your hands, placing the other against the middle of your back, and helped you sit up. “Still okay?” You nodded, taking a sharp inhale when you felt a pinch of pain. When your feet touched the ground you sighed in relief, glad to no longer be laying down, but your joints ached and protested from disuse.

“You want to try standing and walking?”

“Yes please,” you said.

“Okay, just take it slow,” the Doctor told you.

Still with the Doctors help you slowly got to your feet. A sudden wave of dizziness hit you and your eyes blurred over, your knees giving out. Luckily, the Doctor was quick to catch you. Her arms wrapped around you, and she held you close.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?”

You groaned and pressed your head into her arm to try to stop the pounding headache behind your eyes. “Yes, sorry. Just got dizzy for a minute.”

“You lost quite a bit of blood when … you know, so you’ll most likely have some dizzy spells for a bit. Do you want to try again?”

You blinked rapidly to get rid of the blur and nodded. “Yeah.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close the Doctor was to you - how warm she was. You cleared your throat awkwardly and stood up, with the Doctors help, and only wavered once before getting your footing.

“Good!” the Doctor praised, and you blushed.

“Can you help me to my room?” you asked. “I’d like to change,” you gestured to the hospital gown you had been wearing probably since the Doctor brought you to the infirmary.

“Oh, yes, of course!”

With slow careful steps, and the Tardis’s help of bringing your room closer, you and the Doctor reached your destination. “I’ll just wait out here for you.”

You nodded and shuffled your way inside. Your room was exactly how you left it, and you felt much better in this room than you did in your own house. There was a certain warmth to it that you couldn’t explain.

It would probably be better to wear something lose and easy to slip on, you thought, so you found a large hoodie and sweatpants to wear. You couldn’t help but look in the mirror at the damage. The bandaging was wrapped tightly around you, dried blood spots painted on.

Your face was pale and cold to the touch. You quite honestly looked like death, on the verge of life. You sighed and turned away from the mirror, unable to look at your reflection any longer, and shuffled back over to where the Doctor was. You wondered if she thought the same, that you nearly looked like a walking corpse, and your shoulders sagged at the thought.

“All good?” she asked when you came out. You nodded. “I bet you’re hungry,” she continued. “Let’s get you something.”

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. You were starting to feel stronger, and didn’t have many more dizzy spells. You could even walk without dragging your feet. Sometimes though, if you breathed too hard you would double over into a coughing fit, sharp pain attacking you.

The Doctor remained by your side the entire time, always there to catch you, to help you get your strength back. When you grew tired the Doctor allowed you go to sleep in your own bed, which you nearly cheered in joy for. You longed for your own comfortable mattress and not the thin stiff bed in the infirmary. Your back would thank you.

It almost felt weird though; sleeping in your own bed after however long it was that you stayed in the infirmary. When the Doctor walked you back to your room, she removed your bandage to see your progress, and you were surprised to see it completely healed. Only a faint scar remained, even though it had been just a few days since the incident.

“The scar will disappear soon,” the Doctor told you. “Then it’ll be like it never happened.”

“But it did,” you said.

The Doctors eyes turned sad, and she placed her hand on the side of your head, her thumb running over your temple. “The mind heals at a different pace. Try to fix it too fast and it crumples, but we’ll get through it, yeah?”

After that you and the Doctor hung around the Tardis for the day, she didn’t want to take you somewhere potentially dangerous and have something happen to you again, so you spent the day reading in the library or going to the surprise garden filled with many different kinds of flowers, both human and alien alike. They were beautiful and you made a note to come back to this spot, you found that there was something soothing about the garden.

When you noticed the “sun” starting to dim you made the walk to your room, saying goodnight to the Doctor with a yawn as you passed. Now, here you were. You laid on your back, staring up at the dark ceiling, and were wide awake. Your chest began to ache, your mind wandering to the incident. You rubbed your hand where the bullet once was.

Phantom pain you think it was called.

You scowled and threw the blanket over to try to go to sleep, you didn’t want to think about it anymore

That didn’t stop you dreaming it, however.

You were back in your house. The shooter held you at gunpoint, but it was different. He was more aggressive than you remembered, or maybe it was always like this.

“Please don’t,” you begged.

He didn’t say anything, just pulled the trigger. That familiar burn coursed in your chest. You fell to your knees gasping. Looking down, you watched your blood dye your shirt that terrible red colour. The shooter was now standing above you, his gun aimed right at your head. He never spoke before, that much you remembered, but when he opened his mouth to speak, icy cold fear ran through your veins.

“No one to save you now.”

He pulled the trigger.

You awoke with a scream, only seeing that terrible nightmare. Your chest tightened painfully, and you gasped for breath. Your door opened, but you didn’t notice it, barely feeling as the mattress dipped beside you.

“Hey, hey,” hands cupped your face. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

You struggled to get your breath back, instead trying to focus on something, anything, to make you forget your dream. Looking up through your tears, you saw the blurry shape of the Doctor, her thumbs wiping at your cheeks.

“You’re okay,” she said, her voice soft. “Just breathe, ready? In,” you tried your best to inhale along with the Doctor, but only managed broken sobs. “And out.”

It took a few times, and you weren’t sure how long it had been or what time it was. By the end you were finally able to calm down enough to breathe with the Doctor, only hiccupping every once in a while.

“Sorry,” you apologized, your voice weak as you pulled away from the Doctors hands. You already missed the contact. “Sorry if I woke you.”

The Doctor’s hands slowly dropped into her lap. “It’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

She wouldn’t admit why she wasn’t sleeping, wouldn’t tell you that she couldn’t after her own nightmare the day before.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You looked up at her eyes, yours flickering between them. Your breath threatened to leave you again.

“How do I know…” you trailed off, now sounding unsure.

The Doctor tilted her head. “How do you know what? I can’t answer if I don’t know.”

You were quiet for a moment, then asked in a quiet voice. “How do I know that I’m not really dead?”

She didn’t reply after that. Maybe she didn’t know the answer, maybe you did die, and this was your afterlife. It wasn’t a bad one, you had to admit, to be stuck on the Tardis with the Doctor. You jumped when the Doctors hands cupped your face again, but this time she leaned in, and you sighed when the Doctors lips pressed lightly against yours.

“How did that prove anything?” you teased when you parted from the Doctor.

She laughed and leaned forward so your foreheads were touching. “Guess you’ll have to just take my word for it.”

You hummed. “Well, dead or alive, this isn’t a bad place to be.”

“Come with me,” the Doctor suddenly said pulling away and standing up from the bed, her hand outstretched for you to grab. You grabbed her hand and she pulled out from the bed and out of your room. The floor of the Tardis was cold under your feet as you followed the Doctor down the halls, but you didn’t mind. She led you to the front doors of the Tardis and opened them. The stars shone in the distance.

“Figured you’d like to take your mind off everything,” she told you.

She pulled you to sit down beside her and you both sat with your legs swinging out of the Tardis.

“I think this is the one view I’ll never get tired of,” you admitted, a smiling lifting on your face.

The Doctor hummed in agreement, but she wasn’t looking outside like you were, her eyes were on you. She watched as the various blues and purples lit up your face and brightened your eyes. It took the Doctors breath away. Neither of you were sure how long the both of you stayed there, but you didn’t really care very much. You simply enjoyed the view and the company the Doctor provided.

“Thank you,” you said.

“For what?” she asked.

“For helping me,” you replied turning your attention to look at her. “For saving me. For just being you.”

“Of course,” the Doctor smiled.

You stayed out there for a little bit longer until you had to try to hide a yawn.

“Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” the Doctor suggested.

You groaned and took the Doctors hand again so she could help you stand up. Your fingers interlaced and you walked side by side until you found yourself sitting on your bed again. The Doctor was about to leave when you called her name making her pause by the door.

“Can you stay with me again?” you asked her.

The Doctor was surprised. You wanted her to stay the night with you again?

“I just…” you started to fidget with your blanket. “You … you make me feel … safe. You help me forget, if it’s only for a moment, chasing away the bad memories.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

And like the night before, the Doctor shrugged off her coat, slipped off her boots, and crawled under the covers. You had already moved to the other side of the bed, giving her more room, and you laid on your side like you did before to just look at the Doctor.

“What is it?” she asked, laying down to mirror you.

You shook you head. “It’s nothing.”

“We’ll get you through this, okay?”

You nodded, although part of you wasn’t so sure.

“The nightmares are just a bump in the road, they won’t be there forever,” she continued to say.

“And if they are?”

The Doctor reached over to brush your hair behind your ear. “Then you’ll learn to overcome them.”

You grabbed the Doctors hand and, much like she had the night before, pressed a kiss to her hand and nestling closer to her, your head tucked under her chin and her arms held you close promising to protect you from any nightmares that came to haunt you.

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

~~~

“You cleaned.”

You had asked the Doctor to take you back to your house, back to where you were hurt. She insisted on coming with you this time and you agreed, you wouldn’t be able to go back inside by yourself.

“I couldn’t leave it how it was,” the Doctor replied.

You wandered into the room where you first found the shooter, the room had been absolutely destroyed; drawers flung open, items thrown across the floor, but you were shocked to see it was like nothing ever happened. Even the blood seemed to disappear. Your chest tightened when you remembered how much blood was on the floor, the red trail and the puddle that sat underneath you. So much red. You could still feel the phantom pain of the bullets hitting you, burning you, consuming you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You vision was blocked by light blue and all you could feel, hear, and smell was the Doctor. You grasped the Doctors coat in a tight shaking fist.

“Sorry,” you spoke into her shirt.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Do you want to go outside?”

You nodded and let yourself be guided outside, near the comforting presence of the Tardis.

“I can’t…” you started to say.

“You don’t have to,” the Doctor told you.

“Can I just … Can I stay on the Tardis with you? I don’t think I can go back to that house yet,” you asked, a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Of course,” she assured you. “I told you that we’d get through this together, and if you don’t feel safe in your house right now then we’ll try again when you feel ready, yeah?”

You nodded, tearing up. “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.”

~~~

It took a few weeks. You spent the entire time on the Tardis with the Doctor, spending time with her and going on very small trips. Alien hot springs, festivals - very small fun things, and you loved every bit of it. You couldn’t help but tease the Doctor on how she actually could find things to take you to that didn’t involve running for your life.

“It’s not all me,” she would protest, almost offended at what you were saying. “It’s the Tardis! She just ignores what I want to do!”

“Sure, Doctor,” you laughed. “Sure.”

Nearly a month later, you told the Doctor you wanted to go back to Earth. You wanted to see your family again, and the Doctor felt slightly reluctant to let you go. She knew that you would eventually want to go back.

“I just want to spend the day with them,” you told her.

When the doors closed behind you the Doctor was suddenly very aware of how empty, and how big the Tardis actually was. She felt very … alone. The Tardis hummed down at her Pilot, reassuring her that you would be back.

“I know,” the Doctor said to the empty space.

The Doctor decided to do some console “repairs,” keeping herself occupied, even though she knew they were completely unnecessary. She laid underneath the console, pulling out wires and leaving a huge mess on the floor.

She continued this for a few hours, pausing when her phone started ringing on top of the console. The Doctor’s mind went back to the incident. She hesitated to pick it up, almost fearing for what was waiting for her on the other side. She slid from underneath the console, wiping the grease from her hands, and picked up her phone. She took a deep breath, answered in the middle of the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Doctor,” your voice greeted her.

“This better not be another goodbye call,” she threatened.

You laughed through the speaker. “Definitely not dying this time, I promise.”

“Good, great even! Because once was enough.”

You smiled even though you knew that the Doctor couldn’t see you. “I’m just letting you know that I’m on my way back.” The Doctor pulled the phone away from her ear to see that it was well into the evening, the entire day had passed. She put the phone back to her ear, looking at the mess she created. Wires and tools littered the ground, and she could have sworn she heard the Tardis laugh at her predicament.

“Fantastic! Wonderful! I’ll, uh, I’ll see you soon,” she trailed off in thought. How was she going to clean all this up?

“You’ve made a mess of the Tardis, haven’t you?”

“No, of course not!” she defended.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “You’d think a time travel spaceship would be able to repair herself if she needed to.”

Before the Doctor could reply the Tardis whirred and beeped an “I told you so!”

“Hey, no!” she told the machine. “Don’t take their side!”

You laughed at the argument. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

The Doctor pocketed the phone after she gave her own bye. She glared at the time machine, who beeped innocently. “Don’t even start.” She warned. “Just help me put you back together.”

It didn’t take you very long to get back to that familiar blue box, feeling more at home the closer you got.

“Hey, girl,” you greeted. “Hope that Doctor wasn’t too much trouble.”

The Tardis opened the door for you in a “come on in and see.” You walked in, your jaw falling at the sight you saw. Wires and cables littered the floor. The Doctor sat in the middle of it, struggling to pull it all back.

“What did you do?” you laughed.

The Doctor jumped at your voice, dropping all that she had in her arms. “Oh! Me? Nothing! Well, I was doing some small repair and I tried to clean it all up, but someone…” She glared at the console. “Decided to be difficult.”

The Tardis let out a series of irritated beeps and a panel on the wall behind the Doctor suddenly dropped to the ground.

“Oi!!”

You couldn’t stop your laughter. You tried to hide it behind your hand, but the Doctor heard you and threw you a glare as well. There was no real irritation or anger behind it, but still, you cleared your throat and held your hands up to show you weren’t laughing at her. You were barely able to keep your smile down.

“Sorry,” you said. “Please, continue your little fight with the Tardis.”

The Doctor groaned, gathering the cables back into her arms and dragging it over.

“You want some help?” you offered.

“No, I’m fine” she dismissed.

“You sure?” you asked again, voice filled with amusement.

Before she could answer, the Doctor stepped on a tool. Her balance faltered, and the wires fell from her grasp. “Alright, fine.” Your smile grew as you walked up the steps to the console before running a hand over it.

You spoke to the Tardis. “Can you put yourself back together for us, girl?”

You received a warm hum in return as the console room started to fix itself. The panel that fell returned to its spot on the wall, the wires reattached themselves, and the cables snaked back under the console. The room looked as good as new.

“It pays to be the Tardis’s favourite, I think,” you winked at the wide-eyed Doctor.

The Doctor shook herself. “You’re not supposed to pick favourites!” she scolded the Tardis.

You laughed again and watched the Doctor move up to the console, turning her back to you and twisting her coat around her.

“So,” she clapped her hands together. “Where would you like to go today?”

Where would you like to go? A memory came to you, words of place you never thought you would be able to see. You smiled at her. “Soft beaches and waterfall clouds.”

The Doctor smiled back at you, her expression understanding. “Soft beaches it is!” You watched fondly as the Doctor moved about the console, flipping switches and levers until she stopped by the main lever and looked over at you.

“Together?” she gestured her to lever.

You grinned and ran up beside the Doctor, placing your hand on top of hers. “Together.”

#13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th Doctor #i am not good at this #lmaooo

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