I wanna get back to writing full fic eventually so I’m gonna have a slow start by writing some scenes from this au - I haven’t written in forever and make no promises about finishing anything but please lmk if its any good
Buck stares at Tommy’s phone screen like he’s never seen one before. His first reaction is a painful tug on his heartstrings when he sees that his contact name still reads “Evan ❤️”, meaning that Tommy has never changed it, even during all their time apart.
But that tiny spark of hope is largely overshadowed by the cold feeling that slams into him when he sees Tommy’s text, the text he never got, and the reply coming from his own number.
Don’t contact me again.
“I… I didn’t… send this,” he mutters quietly, confused, “What..”
“Buck-” Tommy is using that tone with him, painfully gentle, but his blood is rushing in his ears so fast he barely hears it.
“I didn’t send this,” he says louder, “What the hell, Tommy, I swear I never even got that text!”
He wrestles his basket of baked goods onto his hip, fumbling in his jeans for his phone, he pulls up his messages and thrusts the screen at Tommy, who pockets his own phone and takes Buck’s with both hands. He looks at it for a few seconds, then back up at Buck like he’s searching for something in the desperation on his face.
Tommy moves half a step so he’s no longer blocking the door.
warnings: DEAD DOVE! DO NOT EAT!! 18+ MDNI!!! possessive yandere joong, time outs, humiliation, forced pet play, reader made to get in a cage and be hand-fed, captive reader, mind-breaking, fem reader, unwanted (?) praise
word count: 1432
author's note: helloo everyone. i'm sorry i haven't posted in ages. i hope you guys like this one, it's been finished for 2 months and just sitting in my docs bc i've been too scared to post it. this is inspired by A Puppy's Place by @last-words-ofashootingstar and the song mutt by Sophie Meiers
You don’t even remember what started it. Something small. Something that used to matter before all this. A stupid argument, a crack in the mask—you let it slip. Let yourself rise just a little too high.
He didn’t yell back.
That was the first warning.
He just stared at you, standing there in the middle of the living room with your chest heaving and your hands clenched into fists.
And he waited.
Waited until the anger drained out of you and left behind something colder. Something crawling in your gut.
“I said I’m not your fucking pet,” you snap. Quieter now, but still defiant. Still too much.
He tilts his head.
You regret it the moment the words hit the air.
Silence stretches.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “It slipped—”
“You’ve been acting up,” he says, calm. Not angry. Not loud.
Which is worse.
You blink, throat dry. “I was just—”
“Sit,” he says, and you do. On the floor. In the middle of the kitchen, like a dog waiting for scraps.
He crouches in front of you, expression unreadable. Close enough that you can see the faint bloodstain on his sleeve. Not yours. Not today.
“How long have we lived together now?” he asks softly, brushing hair from your face. His hand is gentle. You think it would hurt less if it weren't.
You swallow. “...Seven weeks.”
He smiles faintly, like he’s proud you remembered.
“Seven weeks. And I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?”
You nod.
“I feed you. I keep you warm. I talk to you when you’re lonely. I let you sit on the couch during movies.”
You nod again, slower. You know where this is going. You want to scream, but you can’t. Not yet.
“And yet…” He stands now, towering over you. “You’ve started talking back. Getting louder.”
Your mouth opens. “I haven’t—”
“Shh.”
That sharp little hiss slices through your voice like a scalpel.
He crouches lower so he’s eye level with you.
“Let’s go over the rules again,” he murmurs. “Where do animals sleep?”
You stiffen.
He waits.
Your lips part, but your throat locks. Shame wells hot in your chest.
“Say it,” he whispers.
You freeze. Everything in your body says don’t answer. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t shrink for him.
But you already are.
“…In cages,” you finally breathe.
He smiles, soft and satisfied. “Good girl.”
You want to cry.
“And what are you?” he continues.
The words stick.
He tilts his head, like he’s studying something interesting in your eyes. “What are you?” he asks again. “After everything I’ve done for you. After everything you’ve become.”
You shake your head.
But his hand closes around your jaw, firm but never bruising.
“What are you?”
You squeeze your eyes shut. The words fall from your mouth like a confession.
“…An animal.”
His hand drops. He exhales like that’s what he’s been waiting for all night.
“That’s right.”
He gestures with a nod of his chin toward the corner of the room. You don’t have to look to know it’s there.
The dog crate.
You haven’t had to sleep in it in almost three weeks.
“Now,” he says, still gentle. “Get in.”
You shake your head once. A twitch. Barely movement. But he sees it.
He steps closer.
You don’t flinch. Not because you're brave—because your body won’t move.
“Get. In.” Each word lands like the snap of a leash.
Your throat is dry. “Please—”
He raises an eyebrow. “You think dogs get to talk back? You think they raise their voice?”
You don’t answer.
He waits.
And waits.
And then, finally, you move.
The carpet burns. Your hands scrape as you crawl across it, shame prickling hot under your skin like a rash. The metal cage looms, open and waiting. You hate how familiar it feels. You hate how small you’ve learned to make yourself.
You slide in.
Your knees curl to your chest. Shoulders hunched. Just like he taught you.
The door shuts behind you with a click.
He doesn’t lock it. He never does. Doesn’t need to anymore.
You wouldn’t dare come out without permission.
He stands over you for a moment—shadow blotting out the ceiling light. Watching. Making sure you stay quiet. Stay curled.
Stay put.
Then he turns and walks away, humming softly to himself.
You stare at the bars.
And you remind yourself, again and again, that you are not a pet.
You are not.
You are not.
But when the lights go out, and the quiet sets in, and you press your cheek to the cool metal floor to sleep—
It’s hard to remember what you were before the cage.
You don’t know how long it’s been.
Hours. Maybe more.
Your breathing’s slowed, but your body’s still tense—curled tight inside the crate like you could disappear into yourself. Like you wouldn’t fill the space at all if you just tried harder.
You hear him return before you see him—soft steps across the carpet, deliberate. No rush. He wants you to hear him coming.
Wants you to think about it.
A bowl scrapes gently across the floor as he crouches in front of the cage.
You don’t look at him.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
“I brought you something.”
You glance at the bowl. It’s torn pieces of bread and cold chicken—the same thing he ate earlier, but colder. Smaller. Stripped.
You hate that you’re hungry. Hate that your mouth waters at the smell of it.
“Come here.”
Still, you don’t move.
A pause.
Then his voice changes—not louder, but heavier. A quiet sternness that coils down your spine like cold breath.
“Come. Here.”
Reluctantly, like your body is someone else’s, you shift forward. Crawl across the crate’s tiny interior until your face is close to the bars. You don’t look at him. You stare past his shoulder. At the wall. At the floor. At anything else.
He reaches through the bars, holding a strip of chicken between two fingers.
“Open.”
You hesitate.
He waits.
“You don’t want to go hungry, do you?” he asks, like he’s giving you a choice. Like he isn’t kneeling there with the only food you’re allowed.
You hate this part.
Hate how familiar it is. Hate that your body already knows what to do.
Slowly, you part your lips.
He slips the bite into your mouth with two fingers. Not roughly. Carefully. Like always.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
You chew. You swallow. It tastes like cold meat and shame.
Another piece follows.
He doesn’t offer the bowl. Doesn’t let you feed yourself.
He lifts the food to your mouth one piece at a time, hand through the bars like you’re in a zoo, and he’s showing kindness to something wild and sad.
“See?” he says quietly, sliding another bite past your lips. “It’s better when you behave.”
You don’t answer.
He wipes his thumb across the corner of your mouth. The touch makes your stomach turn. Too intimate. Too practiced.
“You don’t like the cage,” he says, “but you always listen better after a night in it.”
His tone is almost mournful.
“You know I don’t want to do this to you,” he says gently, like he’s consoling a child. “This isn’t fun for me.”
Your jaw clenches.
“You think I like putting you in there?” he murmurs, voice low, intimate, like a secret between friends.
“I warned you what happens when you start barking, didn’t I?”
You don’t respond. You stare at the floor of the cage as you chew another piece of cold chicken, fists curled into your sides, breathing thin.
“You think I’m being cruel,” he continues, and you can hear the smile in his voice now. “But if I let you talk to me like that—if I let you yell, disobey, bite—then what? You’ll think it’s okay. You’ll do it again. And again.”
His fingers tap lightly against the metal. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“And that’s not how you train a pet, sweetheart.”
You swallow, and hate that it’s loud enough to hear.
He leans closer, until his face is almost level with yours through the bars. His eyes shine with something patient. Sickly sweet.
“Bad pets need to be punished,” he says softly. “Or they keep making the same mistakes.”
A long, long moment passes.
And then, slowly—your pride breaking somewhere deep inside your ribs—you speak.
“Thank you.”
His expression softens.
“There she is,” he whispers. “There’s my good girl.”
The cage door never opens.
He just strokes his hand once along the bars like he might pat your head if he could.
another angst thought that won't leave my brain: dwobbit frodo au, but canon compliant (aka thorin died in BOFA)
genuinely warning: this is quite angsty!! im putting under the cut so you can escape now while you can!!
like, specifically the thought of bofur visiting bilbo some years after the battle of the five armies, both to check in on him, but also because they were good friends! he had always been charmed by bilbo from the start, always looked out for him.
he goes on the long journey to reach the shire, and upon bilbo's doorstep, bofur is greeted by bilbo with a little lad in his arms, probably a hobbit child, whatever they're called-
oh. oh mahal, the lad is the spitting image of thorin.
he's stunned into silence, almost missing bilbo's warm greeting. and he's still deathly silent when bilbo lets him in, and puts frodo down in the sitting room to let him back to his toys and to serve bofur tea (he had come at precisely the right time!). the sight makes bofur forget all of the funny stories and great news about the rebuilding of erebor, being hit with a thousand realizations at once.
bilbo could have children. thorin and bilbo loved each other. they loved each other so much that there was a physical proof of it. and the pebble had to live without one half of his parents. and bilbo had to raise a lad all on his own.
he asks bilbo how he's holding up, and the hobbit's cheer from bofur's visit withers a little. bilbo responds, quite calmly though, not necessarily with sadness, that he's doing quite fine. and he decides to address the elephant (or rather, oliphaunt) in the room that yes, the little lad in the sitting room is his and thorin's lad, and yes, they did have a relationship of that nature.
and yes, he was carrying frodo during that battle. he hadn't found out till he got home, when symptoms started showing up and he came to the tragic realization himself.
when he got to that part, bofur abandoned his tea and scones and got up to gingerly hug bilbo. he whispered into his friend's hair, from where he stood, apologizing that he couldn't have been there for him. that bilbo should've written and called for the company's support, or at least some of them. that he had to go through the ordeal of bringing a child into the world alone. bilbo reassured him that he'd had a few close cousins of his help him, but he knew. he would've appreciated the company of bofur.
the two friends just stood in the silence, bofur stroking bilbo's arm gently.
he asks if it would make bilbo better to talk about frodo. all his milestones, and his adventures as a growing boy. and bilbo smiles wetly, and nods, wiping the tears from his eyes. but he'd like to hear how erebor is holding up first.
ʚɞ "santa baby" - a 𝒋𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒈 oneshot by @cosmicalily ★ view 𝓵𝓲𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂 ʚɞ
୨ৎ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: a very special christmas gift for husband!han jisung ♡ 900w
ʚɞ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: san-ta, ba-by !! (i'm such a lauver and have such bad baby fever rn, that's all the context you get!
ʚɞ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: pregnancy, mentions of sickness
“I can’t believe you’re still sick on Christmas Eve,” Jisung pouted, gently running a hand through your hair. He stroked your warm cheek, eyes sad, and you offered him a weak smile.
“I’m sorry Ji, I know we had so many plans,” you sighed, snuggling into him. “Don’t let me stop you. You should still go ice skating with the boys; I’m happy to stay at home, I promise.”
“I don’t wanna,” he whined, sliding down the headboard and further under the covers. Anyone else would keep their distance from someone who’d been nauseous for the past week, but you being under the weather only made Jisung clingier. He wanted to take care of you and stay by your side, making sure you were okay every single second of the day, even when you assured him you just needed a glass of water and a good nap.
Despite your slightly more fragile state, the past few weeks in preparation for Christmas had been oh so cosy and domestic, filled with shopping for gifts (although the two of you ended up with more for each other than your friends and family), comfort food at home in front of the tv, watching Elf approximately 12 times (it was Jisung’s ride-or-die Christmas movie, there was no talking him out of it). Something about the colder season meant the two of you were even more inseparable than usual, always needing an arm or a leg thrust over the other to share a little body heat. Although, right now, with Jisung’s face nestled into your neck and his arms around your waist, you were scorching.
“Baby, I’m really hot right now,” you groaned, trying to push him away. Being the clingy menace he was, he simply held you closer, and you sighed.
“Ji, if you don’t let go, I’m probably gonna throw up,” you said, opting for a more direct approach. That got his brain working, knocking him out of his loved-up mind fog. He snapped up, sitting up straight and looking at you intently, brows furrowed with concern.
“Actually?” he asked worriedly.
“Maybe,” you replied, feeling a little bad for scaring him. But you were feeling nauseous, and it had only been getting worse the past few days. You hoped that by tomorrow you’d feel a little better.
Even if it wasn’t physically, you hoped that Jisung’s excitement, something you anticipated in response to the surprise you had for him, would perk you up.
“I’m gonna get you some chamomile,” he declared, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and scrambling out of the bedroom, leaving you feeling a little dazed. You felt warm, probably from the slight fever, but also because of him.
He was gonna be the best dad.
“I have something for you,” you said suddenly, grabbing the remote and pressing pause on the movie you hadn’t really been paying attention to. The two of you were sprawled on the sofa, Jisung’s head in your lap as you played with his hair. The room was dim and warm, fairy lights sparkling, and it felt magical, yet familiar.
He raised his head curiously. “But it’s not Christmas morning yet,” he replied, looking confused, and you laughed at him.
“I know. It’s not a proper present; it’s more the promise of one,” you explained vaguely, leaning over the armrest of the sofa and handing him a small box.
Jisung raised an eyebrow, then undid the plaid ribbon, opening the box and retrieving a note. “Unfortunately, these things tend to take a while to arrive, but I promise you’ll have it by August! Love you, sweet boy.” Jisung read aloud, then gave you a strange look, thinking it was some weird prank and expecting you to giggle. However, to his surprise, your eyes were a little glassy, and you reached to hold his hand.
Giving it a gentle squeeze as he unfolded the tissue paper one handed, he found a small stick buried at the bottom. A white plastic one.
With two lines on it.
“Oh my god,” Jisung breathed, holding it closer and then dropping it in shock. “Oh my god, is this real?”
“Why do you think I’ve been feeling so crap the past few days?” you giggled in response, but tears were now rolling down your cheeks. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I thought it would make the perfect surprise.”
“Oh my god,” Jisung repeated, for once lost for words. He suddenly reached forward, cupping your cheeks with his hands and pressing your foreheads together. “I can’t believe it. I’m so happy, baby, you don’t even know. I’ve been wanting this for so long for us.” Then he paused, scrunching up his nose and dropping the test. "Ew. I can't believe I just touched a stick that you peed on."
“Shut up, that's the only way to find out, dumbass. And I know you have, you’re not subtle,” you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you, Ji. You’re going to be the best dad.”
He beamed, eyes shiny, then yanked up your tank top. You squealed in shock, but was placated when he pressed a soft kiss to your belly, looking up at you wistfully.
“Are you gonna call the boys and tell them your news?” you asked, running a hand through his hair as he rested his cheek against your stomach.
“Later,” he said, closing his eyes. “Just wanna be with you right now. And our baby.”
Notes: I hc Ace as transmasc and in this fic he’s a kid for most of it and referred to as “she” or “girl”
Also mind the random ass gap I tried fixing it but yeah
ao3 link
The sounds of people walking were overwhelming.
A small boy had his head sunk in between his knees while in complete tears.
“Hello!”
As the boy brought his head up he was greeted with the face of a bunny plushie.
“H-huh?”
He backed away and saw a ginger haired girl with a black headband. She smiled at him, mouth wide with a notable missing tooth, ‘Whatcha doing?”
“U-um…”
She sat next to him and her smile faded, “Were you crying? What happened?”
“Um um…..” He sniffled, “I can’t find my mom…”
“Oh….” She looked at the boy with pity, “I bet she’ll show up soon! Hey, how about I wait with you?”
The boy looked confused. He didn’t even know who this girl was and yet she was asking to stay with him, “Huh? Wait, what about your parents?”
She paused and looked around, “Oh looks like I lost mine too, hm! Well they gotta find me soon! Same with your mom! No worries!”
The girl stretched her legs out and swayed her feet, resting the rabbit plush in her arms.
Seconds and minutes went by in silence, until the girl “I like your ears by the way!”
“My…ears?”
She pointed up.
The boy made a little tug at his rabbit headband, “Oh…thanks…..your little bunny is cute.”
The girl held the bunny up, “Thank you! Papa got it for me! We came here to visit so he could do a mini show!”
“Show?”
She nodded, “He’s a magician! He can do all sorts of cool tricks! One time he managed to pull 12 whole rabbits out of a hat! And get this: HE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE MAGIC!!! Papa’s just that cool!”
“Woah, that does sound cool.” The boy’s eyes sparkled.
“Oh oh! Once we find our parents, you could come watch him later!”
“Really?”
She nodded.
The boy wiped his previously watery eyes and made a small smile.
The girl ended up jolting as they heard someone call her name.
“There you are!”
A taller boy with similar colored hair walked up and tugged on the girl’s arm.
“Running off like that is how you get kidnapped, you know?”
The girl stuck her tongue out at the older boy as the smaller boy beside them watched. He assumed that the older boy must’ve been her brother.
“Oh oh, can we wait a bit?” She got out of her brother’s grasp and sat beside the smaller boy again, “I promised I’d stay with him until his mom found him!”
As if on cue however,
“DEUCE, oh my seven there you are!”
A young blonde woman came running and immediately hugged the boy extremely tight.
“I’m sorry I am so sorry. My eyes left you for one second and you weren’t there! I was so worried, are you alright?”
The boy hugged his mother just as tightly, starting to tear up again, “I’m fine mama! I was upset for a bit but um…”
He pulled away and looked at the ginger haired girl.
“She made things better!”
The girl made a bright grin and waved.
The boy’s mother smiled back at her, “Why thank you!”
“No problem!”
The older ginger rolled his eyes, “Great can we go now?”
“Fiiiiine.” The girl turned around and made her rabbit plush wave at the boy, “Byyyyeee, see you later!”
The boy smiled again and waved her off, “See you later!”
~~~~
An older Deuce Spade eyed the entrance of his new dorm. This will mark his new start! The entirely new Deuce, someone to make his mother proud.
“Yo!” Someone bumped his shoulder.
He looked at the new student and it was a ginger haired boy with striking red eyes.
“You’re a freshman right?” The boy asked.
“Uh…ye-“
“So you think that whole orientation thing was totally nuts right?”
“Well-“
“What do you think happened to that weird weasel thing?”
“I have….no clue….”
‘This guy isn’t even letting me get a word in…’
“Hey, idea!” The boy made a mischievous grin, "What do ya say we take a tiny peak at the headmages office?”
“Eh? You mean like, break in or something?”
“Hey! I wouldn’t put it like that now. You in or what?”
‘What was this guy’s deal? That just sounded like he was looking to get into some sort of trouble.’
Before Deuce could reject the offer one of their upperclassmen came up behind them.
“Whatcha talking about?”
The red eyed boy jolted and turned around, “Ah! Where did you come from!?”
Their upperclassmen giggled, “FYI, if you skip out on the welcome party, Riddle’ll have your head.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it! Who would want to skip out on your amazing party?” He elbowed Deuce’s arm slightly, “We’re so grateful that you put it together for us. Right?”
“Huh?” The red eyed boy gave Deuce a small look, “Oh, yes! Of course!”
Luckily their upperclassman didn’t bother to pry anymore and moved on with the event.
“Something tells me this dorm has tough surveillance.” The boy sighed, “The food looks good at least. I’ll be at the snack table. See you around…uh?”
“Ah, it’s Deuce.”
“Deuce….” The boy stared as if he was trying to remember something but pushed past it, “Well, I’m Ace! See ya around!”
Ace made a wave as he wandered further into the party.
“Yeah, see you around….”
Divider by @/fae-and-wolf
And so they forget each others names by like a day
@lilstrawberryghost @mentally-eel-moray @avoyuki-avocado @angelicyumedoll @cherrytreegrove @driedupeyeballs @vanrouge13 @cacti-inwonderland @pumpykynpatch @telltalebsdfan @purrseon @purezneon @novalunarabem (Ask to be added or removed)
"What do you mean 'hell no'? I wanna break up with you cuz I can't stand you anymore."
"Then sit. Why were you standing anyways?"
"This is why!! You aren't taking my words seriously!!And our relationship...It's just- It's not working for me anymore..."
"Then I'll fucking fix it, I'll make it work."
"I don't know if you can... I don't even feel the chemistry we once had anymore."
"Then I'll use my fucking ass quirk to spark it up."
"...I can't face you no more what the actual fuck."
"Then turn around then dumbass."
"I hate you."
"I love you too."
"What is wrong with you."
"There's nothing wrong with me baby, I'm just obsessed with you."
"Your insane..."
"You make me insane. Everything you have, everything you do, just everything about you make me insane."
"Your ridiculous."
"And you love it."
▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬
A/N: Hihi!! Sorry for suddenly disappearing, lifes tough lolss Anyways this was inspired by an ai text story in tiktok that came up to my fyp lmfaoo It gave me motivation to write another oneshot! Might edit this😓‼️
summary: the doctor drags you to an off-world concert and when he notices that you’re in awe of the lead singer, he naturally has to one-up him.
cw: femreader, fluff, usual level of doctor antics, the doctor is jealous but refuses to admit it, probably ooc 12 (still getting used to writing him apologies😥)
it’s barely 7am when you hear the familiar groan of the tardis materializing in your bedroom — waking you up from the deep sleep you were in.
you cover your ears with your pillow, hoping that if the doctor saw your tired state he would get back in his tardis and fly away.. you really should have known better.
stepping out of his blue box, the doctor freezes seeing you, “what are you still doing in bed? you silly little humans, always sleeping in. did you even set an alarm?” the time lord rambles, picking your clock up and examining it, as if trying to find out if you had set an alarm,
you hadn’t and even if you had, it would be on your phone. sometimes you really question his technological genius.
“go away doctor, i’m exhausted.”
“no.”
“excuse me?” you snap, sitting up in bed to see if you had heard the man correctly,
“i said no, you need to learn some discipline and besides, i have something i need to show you”
you try to throw your pillow at him, but he simply moves out of the way and stands by the tardis, holding the door open and expecting you to just hop inside in your nightie.
“what could possibly be this important — did you turn your microwave into a metal cat again?” you sigh, pushing yourself out of bed instead of arguing further, knowing it would get you nowhere with the stubborn alien,
“even better! a concert on iroria 7X”
“you woke me up for…a concert?” irritation seeped in your voice as you searched through your closet for something to wear, apparently something concert appropriate.
“not just any concert, y/n. this planet holds a big mega concert every millennia! species from all different planets come together, the celebration lasts a month altogether it’s brilliant”
“so…? we can go at literally any other time, are you forgetting the fact you live in a time machine?”
“that’s the thing, the tardis can’t travel to these concerts out of their designated time spans, not sure why, but the old girl doesn’t like doing it”
“how convenient” you roll your eyes and gesture for the doctor to turn around so you could change, which he quickly obliges to with zero argument — you suspect that stems from his eagerness to head straight for the planet he seemed so excited about.
once you were dressed, you push the doctor aside lightly to maneuver around the cramped bedroom and enter your bathroom — finishing your morning routine quicker than you usually liked.
“shame, i quite liked that nightie” the doctor comments and your eyebrows lift in surprise, it wasn’t often the doctor complimented your physical appearance. it wasn’t necessarily that he was rude — at least you hoped he wasn’t trying to be.
“can’t exactly show up to a concert with my knickers hanging about, now can i?”
the doctor raises an eyebrow in thought, “last i heard, musicians enjoyed that”
“doctor! i am not a groupie!” you shriek and if you were still holding your pillow, you would have thrown it at him again. instead, you simply push past him and enter the tardis.
the doctor follows swiftly behind like a puppy with his tail between his legs, “i wasn’t trying to imply you were!” he counters and really, he wasn’t. the thought made his skin crawl. another man’s — god forbid multiple men’s hands exploring your body? he thinks he may vomit.
you watch as he types coordinates into the tardis and then pulls the lever, your body lurching forward as the tardis takes off — something you were still trying to get used to.
in a second, something dawns on you — something the doctor said to you that you completely overlooked in your tired state, “wait… a month?! we’re not staying the entire time are we?”
“of course we are, y/n! the next time this happens you’ll be long dead and won’t ever get to experience it again!”
the mention of death makes you shiver, he really needn’t have been that harsh about it, but what else can you expect from the doctor at this point.
“long dead… alright then. a month-long concert celebration. this better be good.”
“it’s better than good, my dear y/n. it’s absolutely life changing” the doctor smirks while leaning all too close to you, for a minute you think he’s going in for a hug, but then he swerves and heads for the wooden doors of the tardis, swinging them open as the air from the new planet fills your lungs,
“iroria 7X! it’s been so long old girl!” he exclaims and you find yourself laughing at his excitement, something that was often a rare sight for the older man — who was usually so cross and grumpy.
“old girl? the planet is a girl?” you ask as you follow him outside, the planet was very colorful and you weren’t sure if it was the decorations for the upcoming concert marathons or just how the planet normally looked.
“every planet is a girl, y/n. keep up.” he scoffs, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
noted. you thought.
you follow the doctor as he brings you into a large building, it seemed to be the entrance into the main city where the event was being held, built similarly to an entrance to a local zoo back on earth.
you stand in the long line for what felt like centuries before the two of you finally make it to the front desk, the doctor spent most of the time explaining the customs and history of the planet.
the woman up front was an aquatic looking alien, her skin was blue and there were gills where a human’s ears should be. if you were honest, she was quite beautiful — someone you’d take out on a date. well.. you were going to be here for awhile, maybe if you saw her again,
but after glancing up at the doctor, you knew you could never bring yourself to do it — your heart had already been stolen by an alien.
“name and place of origin?” the aquatic alien asks the both of you, she sounded exhausted — you would be too if you had to sit behind a desk filling out wristbands for hours on end, especially considering how big this event was hyped up to be.
“the doctor. gallifrey.” the doctor provides and then looks towards you for your answer,
“y/n. earth.”
as soon as the words leave your mouth, the room falls impossibly quiet for the amount of people crammed inside. you gulp, wondering what you said that would warrant such a response.
thankfully, the lady up front is graceful enough to fill you in as she wraps the wristband around your wrist, “we just don’t get many humans here. you’ll have to ignore them, i hope you have a wonderful time” she says sweetly, giving your hand an encouraging rub before you and the doctor enter the main city.
the doctor notices your slight anxiety from the previous interaction and furrows his eyebrows, “you needn’t be frightened. they’re just confused. humans never venture this far”
“have you been here before? that lady didn’t seem surprised that you came from gallifrey.”
the doctor didn’t respond immediately, as if deciding on whether to tell the truth or not. of course he decides to come clean, “i was here last time it happened.. with some old friends of mine… also human. the only other known humans to walk this planet”
you could hear the sadness in his voice and decide not to press further, instead changing the subject and asking about the food on the planet and if it was even digestible for humans,
“so.. is any of this food actually safe for me to eat or am i finally going on that diet i’ve been meaning to try — extreme fasting” your question was serious, but you add a joke at the end to try and get the doctor to crack a smile, it doesn’t quite work, instead he just gives you a concerned glance,
“there are no humans cuisines on iroria 7X, but there are some from the vrukriks, who have a very similar diet to humans”
“good enough for me, let’s find a restaurant and eat before the concerts then, old man” you say with a smile, ignoring the way he glared at you for the ‘old man’ nickname as you grab ahold of his hand and lean against him — walking through the busy streets of the city, scared that if you let go you’d lose him in the crowd, he was very easily distracted.
after you ate, the doctor rented you both a tiny flat for the month, where you spent the rest of the day searching through magazines and the concert slots on the wall, before starting to get ready for the night — you found it a little weird that the closet was filled to the brim with clothes and you didn’t want to ask whether it was the planet or the doctor’s doing.
the doctor had spent most of the time in the city, which was surprising considering he wasn’t the most sociable man. still, you couldn’t help but crack a smile when you finally hear the door open as the sun was starting to set,
“y/n!” you hear him exclaim your name five times in rapid succession as he runs down the hall, finding you sitting in front of the vanity, “i found a discontinued flavor of jelly babies! i searched through 300 universes looking for these and finally found them! open wide!” he was like a kid in a candy store, well quite literally, a large grin on his face as he holds a jelly belly in his hand,
you open your mouth and he tosses it towards you, he misses and hits you square in the eye, but before you can move to reach your hand to the newfound pain, he throws another one which lands directly in your mouth and you nearly choke on it, but manage to chew and swallow it.
you finally understood his excitement, those were good. you didn’t dare ask for more though, you knew the man was very stingy with his jelly babies — especially a discontinued flavor.
it’s only then he notices your attire, teased hair and heavy makeup, paired with a plaid skirt, a ripped up shirt, and a leather jacket — in true 70s london punk fashion.
he thinks you’ve never looked more attractive.
“the first show is rock, and i know this is more punk, but i don’t really care — it’s not like these aliens really know human subcultures” you shrug as you stand up, visibly taller which makes the doctor confused as he looks you up and down, “did you get taller?”
“it’s the boots” you say, lifting your foot to show him the platform boots, to which he nods in understanding, still stuffing his face with jelly babies, “well, i got us floor tickets, right in the front where the magic happens” he grins and it almost makes you forget about the copious amount of gummies in his mouth.
“in that case, lead the way doctor”
and he does. he guides you to the venue and to the front of the floor — right in front of the stage. the arena shaped dome was cramped, you and the doctor squished together like sardines among the various alien species that had come to see the performance
with every passing minute you grew more and more excited, you nearly threw up as soon as the band took the stage. most of the members were clearly alien, but the lead singer looked humanoid — similar to the time lords, you wonder how many alien species look similar to humans.
you can’t explain the rush you feel when the band begins to play, of course you’ve been to concerts before, but this felt like something entirely different. it was almost like you could feel the music in your veins as it was played and oh god…you could, couldn’t you.
that’s what makes this place so different, you can feel the music sloshing about inside you. you grab ahold of the doctor’s arm, the new sensation making you nauseous.
“i’m sorry, i should have warned you” he seemed genuinely apologetic and appeared to have no problem with you clinging to him, these things would make you think twice in any other situation, but when you can feel the chords of the guitar vibrate in your veins, you can’t bring yourself to think about anything else.
your heart flutters when the singer looks at you, you realize that you probably stand out a ton, being the only human in the crowd. sure, there were other humanoid species, but your bright orange wrist band is one that no one else on the planet possessed.
there is no hatred in the alien’s eyes, nothing to fear, if anything, it seems like he’s giving you bedroom eyes. if you had looked at the doctor right now, you would’ve seen the way his eyebrows furrow in anger at seeing the man look at you like that and maybe if you hadn’t been so focused on the way the singer’s voice felt underneath your skin you’d notice how the doctor went rigid under your touch.
when the singer leans over the stage, dangerously close to you as if he was singing directly to you, lewd words that the doctor has already tuned out, he finally dares himself to look at you, hoping to see some sort of disgust, but instead, you were smiling at the man. you were enjoying his affections.
it felt as though one of the doctor’s hearts had stopped, his stomach churned but not because of the music. it’s then that he finally pulls away from you, as if you had burned him.
you pry your eyes away from the singer and look in the doctor’s direction, but he was already gone. you search around for him in confusion — his face should be so easy to spot in the crowd, and yet it was like he vanished out of thin air.
at first you feared the worst, that there was an alien threat here. that the doctor had been kidnapped, but then your eyes land on him. on the stage — walking towards the singer.
your eyes widen, what the hell was he doing? this was supposed to be a vacation, he wasn’t supposed to get the both of you kicked out on your very first night.
you watch as the doctor reaches his fingers up to the singer’s temples and he almost immediately surrenders his guitar and microphone. the doctor wanted to play, but why? he was so excited to watch performances, not be apart of them.
unless that was always apart of the plan and he just didn’t mention it to you. you honestly wouldn’t be surprised.
after attaching the microphone to his head, the doctor grins as he flings the guitar strap over his shoulder and plays a few chords to get used to the instrument. those few chords send a shiver down your spine, as if they’d been directly sent to you,
“what’s up my alien dudes!” he yells into the mic and you internally cringe, he was never like this. what the hell has gotten into him?
it reminds you of when older people tried to appeal to younger audiences on the internet and failed miserably, which seemed pretty on brand for a two millennia old alien.
“xelkor got a wee vocal strain, so stand by as i blow your minds” his tone drops a few octaves towards the end of his sentence and you bite your lip in response, he was so hot when he spoke low, even if you were infuriated by his impulsive action.
it only takes a few chords for you to realize what song he was playing,
are you gonna be my girl.
the feeling of your stomach twisting was a harsher feeling than the other singer, you weren’t sure if it was because of the feelings for the doctor you harboroued or the way he was stringing the guitar.
the doctor’s voice was rough and clearly not meant for singing, but in a way that was almost sexier than an extreme vocalist.
he bounced about the stage as he sang and played the guitar, showing much more enthusiasm and strength than someone who looked like him would often be able to withstand.
despite the cheers and singing of the crowd, the only thing you could focus on was the doctor — and he knew it too.
it made his ego swell three times its usual size. knowing that you thought he was the only person in the room, why else would he do this?
he smirks towards you, trotting over as he strummed the guitar — you bit back a comment about his peculiar run as he leans forward and momentarily stops strumming the guitar to pass his sonic sunglasses onto your face,
“i said, are you gonna be my girl”
he sings, those were the lyrics of course, but for a moment you start to think they were meant for you specifically, but before you can ask, he was gone, back on the stage performing,
he always did love an audience.
after his surprise concert, you meet him off the side of the stage, where people crowded around, looking for autographs, he waved the people off and honestly you felt a little bad, “you know you’re usually supposed to sing a song you actually made, right?”
the doctor scoffs as if you had offended him, “i did”
“…no”
upon seeing the doctor’s signature grin and nod, your jaw nearly hits the ground, “oh my god, honestly what haven’t you written”
“a shakespeare play” he answers truthfully and it was now that you realized how close he was, how he was peering down at you. despite the strobe lights, you could recognize the grey eyed stare.
“xelkor didn’t really have a vocal strain, did he?” you ask, changing the subject. you watch as an unidentifiable emotion flashes on the man’s face, only to be replaced by a sly grin,
“do you take me for a liar, y/n?”
“when you want to be” you shoot back, taking the sunglasses off and attempting to give them back to him. the doctor only closes your hand and pushes it back to your chest, indicating he wanted you to keep them,
“a girl must always keep a souvenir from her first off-world concert”
“this isn’t a souvenir, doctor. these are your sonic sunglasses.” you scoff, but put them back on either way — it was nice to have something of the doctor’s.
“well then, better find you a souvenir then” he settles, holding out his hand so he could guide you through the crowds, but you don’t take it yet,
“hey doctor?”
he doesn’t answer you, simply shoots you a confused look and shakes his hand around, as if saying ‘well hurry up then’
“yes” you say simply, and this only seems to confuse him further,
“what are you babbling on about?”
“i’ll be your girl” you respond, grabbing his hand tightly and you watch as he falters — as if he was having an entire database reboot inside his head, but when he manages to contain himself, he grabs your hand tighter than ever before, dragging you through the crowds without a word,
