#10th doctor fanfics

[gcballet]

Doctor Who as tweets/textposts pt.4

<- | DW | ->

[cas-is-queer]

I fucking love in fics when the Doctor gets hurt and the Tardis has to help his companion (mostly in romantic contexts, but others too). 9 or 10 gets hurt and Rose and the Tardis communicate via their bad wolf connection so that Rose can help him? Absolutely, gimme 20 of em. 11 or 12 has a really bad day or smtn and Clara has to try to help him, and asks the Tardis for help? Fuck yes gimme that hurt comfort. Literally any version of the Master choosing to save the Doctor and help them instead of hurting them, and spending the entire time playfully bickering with the Tardis? 100% that is my shit. 13 getting knocked tf out and Yaz cluelessly begging the Tardis for help on how to care for a stupid time lord? Fuck yes. Give me more of the Tardis telepathically communicating with companions to help the Doctor when they're hurt. I eat that shit up every single time.

[magiccath]

TARDIS Tricks

Tenth Doctor/Reader (could be any Doctor if you squint)

Summary: In which the TARDIS pulls some matchmaking schemes

The last week had been exhausting. Life with the Doctor usually was, but this week was just a little too much for you. Not just you either, the Doctor was wiped out too.

He pushed the doors of the TARDIS open with a tired sigh, throwing his long brown coat over one of the numerous coral-like branches littered throughout the control room. Then, he made a b-line for his worn-out captain’s chair, slumping into it dramatically. His long, spindly legs stretched out in front of him, making him appear taller than he was - if that was even possible. The way he stretched was more than akin to the characteristics of the cats you had encountered.

You weren’t much more energetic about your entrance, throwing your coat next to his and moving to slump against the circular console.

“Can we please take a break from the running?”

“We haven’t been running that much,” he groaned, though you could tell he was thinking the same thing. He might have ‘superior Time Lord biology’, but he was clearly as tired as you were. Maybe there was a limit to the running he could do.

“Daleks, New New York, then that weird Bio-tech company, followed by the literal end of the universe, and wrap it all up with diamond rain on Saturn.”

“Suppose there has been a lot of running,” the Doctor grumbled again, admitting defeat. “How about a day or two of rest? Get some sleep and relax a bit?”

You nodded, glad he finally understood what you were trying to say. All you wanted was to sleep for at least 8 hours uninterrupted. Ideally, 12 hours.

“Don’t fall asleep in that chair,” you scold, noticing how he already appeared to be half asleep, “you’ll get back pain and then you’ll be insufferable. Go to bed, I know you have one somewhere.”

The Doctor grumbled, not bothering to form a full and coherent sentence. You kicked his leg, not hard enough to truly hurt him, just enough to get him out of the chair. He grumbled again and sat up in the chair, stretching his slender arms above his head.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

He nodded, already looking slightly more alert. Slightly. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to fall asleep, you decided to head off to your bedroom.

You walked slowly down one of the numerous, winding halls of the TARDIS. You’d walked to your room hundreds, if not thousands, of times by now. You knew exactly where it was, and it wasn’t there. In the space where your door would normally be was… nothing. You tapped around the wall, wondering if perhaps the Doctor replaced your normal door with some kind of seamless door mechanism.

When the wall didn’t yield you let out a frustrated grunt, “What did you do?” you asked the TARDIS, resting your hands on the smooth surface of her walls. The wall was cold to the touch, colder than usual that is. Normally, you felt something when you touched her. The best way you could describe it was a presence. But, at the moment, you felt nothing.

Aggravated, you sulked your way back to the control room.

“Where is my room?” you glared at the Doctor, hands on your hips. Normally, you’d play along. Hide his Sonic Screwdriver or coat somewhere he couldn’t find it. This time, you were far too tired to humor him.

“What d’ya mean?” the Doctor frowned in confusion. “Did you get lost in the hallways again?”

“No, I know where my own room is and it’s not there!”

The Doctor’s frown deepened as he got up from his seat, brushing past you and into the hallway. He took long strides down the corridor, stopping in front of where your room normally was. He slipped his glasses out of his inner pocket, sliding the specs onto the bridge of his nose. His head tilted to the side as his hands ran over the smooth wall, examining the space with his characteristic curiosity.

“Did you do this?”

“What? No, why would I steal your room?” He peered over his shoulder, almost offended that you would suggest such a thing.

“You’ve done weirder things,” you argued, crossing your arms.

“Name one,” the Doctor challenged, mirroring your defensive stance.

“The time you put a pigeon in my shower,” you responded immediately, not needing time to think about weird things the Time Lord had done. It was one of the things you liked best about him, he was constantly strange. It made things fun, but it could also make things incredibly aggravating.

“He needed a bath. Have you met pigeons? They’re filthy.”

“Wash your pigeons in your own shower!”

“That's… that’s not the point here,” he mumbled, clearly deflecting the conversation. “Your room is missing.”

“I noticed,” you deadpanned, not looking away from him. “Can I have it back?”

“I told you, I didn’t take it.” The Doctor threw his hands up defensively.

“Rooms don’t just walk away,” you say, glaring at him. By now, your irritation was bordering on anger. All you wanted to do was fall into your soft bed and not leave until this exhaustion wore off, but you needed a bed to do that.

“Maybe the TARDIS sorted it away,” he shrugged. As if accentuating his point, the TARDIS let out a soft hum. You weren’t even sure it was real at first, maybe it was just the air conditioning kicking on.

“Did she just…?”

The Doctor nodded, confirming your theory that the TARDIS had responded to him. What reason did she have for storing your room away? You were about 98% sure that you still lived on the ship.

“Is this her way of kicking me out?” The TARDIS let out another hum, this one in clear disapproval. Not kicking you out, then.

You let out a small sigh of relief. You’d never admit it, but you had never felt more at home anywhere else in your life. Realistically, that wasn’t because of the TARDIS. It was the Doctor, he could make any place feel like home to you.

“Well then, can I have my room back please?” you asked the TARDIS

The corridor was silent. In fact, the whole ship was silent, if that was even possible.

Something you learned early on in your travels with the Doctor was that the TARDIS was the one really in charge. What she says goes. Always. It doesn’t matter if you were promised a beach vacation and ended up in the middle of winter in Victorian England. And it most certainly didn’t matter if you wanted a bedroom or not. She was a force to be reckoned with, and you respected that.

“I’ll sleep on the couch in the library, we can deal with this in the morning.” You decided it was easier to just let the TARDIS work through whatever tantrum or scheme she was cooking up. Sometimes when traveling with the Doctor it was better to just go with the flow - and that didn’t just apply to ship malfunctions or sleeping arrangements.

You trudged down the corridor, heading for the vast library. It really was an impressive library, even better than the one in Beauty and the Beast. Shelves lined the walls and extended up high for multiple stories. It was easy to get lost in the room because it was so large. Most of the time you just asked the TARDIS for directions if you needed a specific book. Mostly, you just used it as a calm and quiet place to take a break between your chaotic adventures with the Doctor.

Usually, there were at least three couches in the room at a time. Your favorite was a mustard yellow, not a particularly nice color (especially for a couch), but it was beyond comfortable. The issue was that the couch wasn’t there. Furthermore, there wasn’t any couch in the large room.

“Doctor!” you call out loudly, staring blankly at the space where there should be a couch. There were small circles on the wood where the legs of the couch would normally sit, leading you to assume that you weren’t going crazy. The TARDIS had stolen your room and now your favorite couch.

“What’s the issue now?” the Doctor grumbled, rubbing his face tiredly as he strode into the library. He came to a standstill next to you, staring at the empty floor with equal confusion.

“She got rid of the couch.”

“I can see that,” the Doctor said, his eyebrows raising in interest.

“I’m exhausted, I'm grumpy, and I just want to sleep,” you whisper urgently, almost on the verge of tears. It felt silly to be upset over such a small thing, but you were beyond tired. Your brain was functioning on sheer willpower and that was quickly running out.

“I know, I know,” the Doctor whispered sympathetically, gently lifting your face up to look at him. “Look, you can sleep in my room. She hasn’t taken that.”

“That's where you sleep,” you point out, trying not to show how flustered the endearing touch had made you.

“Normally, yes,” the Doctor smiled slightly, finding your response slightly comical. “It’s a nice bed, though I’m not sure it would matter much to you either way at this point.”

“Where would you sleep?” You frown, knowing that he needs the sleep just as much as you do, even if he would never admit it.

“I don’t need to-” he started but cut off once he saw your glare. “I can sleep in the console room, that chair isn’t really that bad,” he amended.

“You’ll hurt your back, I already told you not to fall asleep there.”

“It’s not like we have any other options,” the Doctor shrugged. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He would do anything for you, sleeping on a chair that hurt his back was nothing in comparison.

“I’m not letting you sleep in the chair,” you insisted, crossing your arms defensively. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”

“No one is sleeping in the chair!” the Doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I could just sleep on the floor, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, I’m not letting you do that,” he said seriously.

“What do you propose then?”

“Well… we could…” the Doctor trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. By now, you knew it as one of his many nervous tics. “We could share the bed,” he finally said, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Share your bed?”

The Doctor nodded, still not fully looking at you. At this point, you were too tired to question it, or even really think about it.

“Can we even do that? Are you ok with that?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. As you’re comfortable with it,” he said back, his tone only slightly less panicked. He wasn’t even sure when the last time he shared a bed was.

“Alright,” you whisper with a slight blush.

“I’ve never seen your room,” you add after a few seconds.

“You haven’t?”

You shake your head, “it could be a torture dungeon for all I know.”

“It’s- it’s not-” he struggled before realizing you were joking. “It’s a normal bedroom,” he whispered, already walking out of the library.

You smile to yourself and follow him down the hall, the only sound the soft tap of your footsteps. His room wasn’t far from where yours would normally be, just a few turns down the hall and to the left. The door was the same blue as the TARDIS, almost identical to the front doors of the ship.

The Doctor opened the door and slipped inside, leaving it ajar so you could follow.

Whatever you had expected when it came to the Doctor’s room, it wasn’t this. Almost every square inch of the place was covered with things. Gadgets and gizmos, rocks, keys, books, alien-looking things, and-

“Is that Starry Night?” you frown, looking at a framed picture leaning against a corner.

“Oh, yeah, Vincent gave that to me,” the Doctor shrugged like he didn’t have one of the most recognizable paintings in all of history on his bedroom floor.

“Isn’t it supposed to be in the MoMa?”

“That one’s fake. Don't tell anyone though, I’m not really supposed to have this one,” the Doctor shrugged, undoing his tie and slipping it off his neck. You tried to not follow the movement with your eyes, the nimble movement of his hands as he undid the knot capturing your attention.

You looked away embarrassed, turning your attention back to the painting. “Did you steal Starry Night?!”

“No, I told you, Vincent gave it to me,” he frowned at you, wondering if the exhaustion was finally getting to you. He had just told you that.

“And you just… decided to keep it on your bedroom floor? Next to your trash can and first editions of Lord Of The Rings?”

“That’s not a trash can, it’s an artifact from B-739. Priceless, don’t touch it.”

“Right, 'cause that’s the priceless item in here that I’m worried about accidentally defacing.”

“If you’re going to bully my possessions, I’m not gonna let you sleep in here,” he grumbled, a pout barely evident on his face.

“I’ll shut up,” you say, looking around the rest of the room. You kept your comments to yourself, instead taking the time to admire the strange collection of things the Doctor kept in his room. It was like a personal museum of all of time and space. That is if the museum prioritized shiny objects and children’s toys from the early ‘90s.

It was all very him, and you couldn't help but feel safe in the room. Sure, you felt safe everywhere on the TARDIS, but this was different. If you could, you would have spent hours scouring every inch, wanting to learn everything you could about the Doctor.

You tugged your attention the the bed. It wasn’t a small bed, but it also wasn’t ridiculously large for one (albeit, strangely tall) Time Lord. The sheets were dark blue silk with a thick woolen blanket on top, also in a matching blue.

“Do you need PJs?” he asked, poking his head out of the closet he was currently in. The doors were a dark oak with a row of ties hanging on the inside of one. The patterns ranged anywhere from solid colors to cartoon characters from your childhood you had forgotten existed. You smiled as your eyes caught on a brightly colored tie with Winnie the Pooh on it.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you nod, turning your attention back to him. A few moments later he came back into the main room carrying two sets of PJs. You’d only seen the Doctor out of his trademark suit once or twice, for all you knew he just slept in it. Maybe he invented some kind of sleep suit, like a three-piece made entirely out of comfortable knit fabric.

He handed you one set of PJs, a classic striped set. He held in his hands another set, that one also striped, just in a different colorway. You’d never put much thought into what the Doctor wore to bed, but for some reason, this made sense to you.

“Bathroom’s over there,” he tilted his head in the direction of a door in the corner. You took the clothes and made your way over to the room, closing the door gently behind you, the ‘click’ reverberating through the silent space.

There wasn’t anything spectacular about the bathroom. By most standards, it was a perfectly ordinary bathroom. Even still, it’s clear to you who this bathroom belonged to. Various products (mostly ones for hair styling) were scattered across the countertop, but you didn’t feel like it was a mess.

There was a bright, puffy, flower-shaped rug in front of the sink that reminded you of something you might find in a Barbie Dollhouse circa 2002. In contrast, the shower curtain was a bright striped pattern that reminded you of a beach ball. In any other room, the decorations wouldn’t have matched, but knowing this was the Doctor’s doing made it all make sense to you.

You slipped the pajamas on quickly. You looked a little ridiculous in the Doctor’s clothes, like you were playing dress up in his closet. They didn’t fit you perfectly, but that much was expected. Even still, the fabric smelled like the Doctor, leaving you with the aching feeling that he was hugging you. You pressed your nose against the sleeve, breathing in the familiar smell before realizing you were smelling the Time Lord’s pajamas.

You shook yourself out of it and exited the bathroom, poking your head tentatively into the main room. The Doctor was sitting on the bed, having already changed into his PJs. His head turned at the sound of the door, smiling slightly at the sight of you.

“Do y’a need anything else?” he asked.

You shook your head, standing in the doorway awkwardly. Seeing him sitting there, on the bed, made it all seem real. You couldn’t do this. How could you share a bed with the man you had the biggest crush on ever?

“I- well, I can’t-” you stammered, trying to put your thoughts into words. Your brain was tired and panicking, the combination leaving you unable to fully express anything. “I can just sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, just get in the bed.”

You shift anxiously, tugging at the sleeve of the PJs he gave you. There was no way to explain it to him without admitting your feelings. It was a double-edged sword. Or maybe it was paradoxical. It didn’t really matter.

Begrudgingly, you slide under the covers next to him. You lay like a corpse, your hands firmly tucked at your side as you stare up at the ceiling. He had those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. They weren’t even just haphazardly stuck up there, he took the time to form them into actual constellations. The ones that he’d shown you up close.

You felt a twinge in your heart. It took everything in you not to turn to your side and hug him right now. His hugs felt like oxygen to you. You could be having the worst day ever, but a hug from your favorite alien never failed to brighten it.

The Doctor turned the bedside lamp off, sending the room into darkness. Your eyes were still glued to the stars, their soft glow highlighting them against the black of the room. He settled down in the bed next to you. You felt every single shift as he got comfortable, the feeling of him next to you distracting. It was hard not to think about how much you liked the Time Lord when you were literally in his bed. It was impossible not to feel his presence next to you, the weight of another person weighing down your mind.

“You ok?” the Doctor whispered, pulling you out of your spiral.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. Maybe if you said it, it would be true.

You felt his hand slide against yours, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. You didn’t dare move, you didn’t even pull your gaze from the cluster of glow-in-the-dark stars above your head. Tentatively, he slid his hand into yours.

This wasn’t the first time you had held his hand. Far from it, actually. You held his hand almost every day. It was easy to get lost in space, it was just easier if you held onto each other. But this time was different, the intimacy of it making your heart thunder against your chest.

Neither of you said anything, the silence filling the room. Eventually, your eyes fluttered closed, the fluorescent greenish afterglow of the plastic stars remaining in your mind. It didn’t take long for you to slide out of consciousness, the heavy weight of sleep taking over and dragging you down.

-

You woke up of your own accord, a pleasantry you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced. No droning alarm, blinding rays of early morning sunshine, dogs barking, or anything else of the sort. Just your mind and body, having decided they were thoroughly rested, arising of their own accord - an internal affair rather than an external one.

After the initial fogginess of waking up after hours of deep sleep, you became quickly aware of your surroundings. Not just the Doctor’s bed or even his bedroom, but the Doctor himself. More specifically, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

At some time during the night, the exact timing unbeknownst to either of you, the two of you had found your way into each other’s arms. The action was seamlessly smooth, so much so that it almost felt rehearsed.

Your legs slotted together like expertly crafted puzzle pieces, fitting together in a way that made more sense than it should have. Could legs even fit together? You suppose they must if you were experiencing it. His chin rested on top of your head, his nose occasionally bumping the crown of your head as he shifted and nuzzled in his sleep. Your own head was tucked against his chest, your ear positioned right between his beating hearts.

The steady thumping of the twin organs pumping blood through his system was mesmerizing, the sound strangely familiar and comforting. You could feel the vibrations through your body, the asynchronous beats reverberating around in your head.

Slowly, the panic started to creep in, invading the sense of calm you had felt seconds before. You were in the Doctor’s arms. You woke up in the Doctor’s arms. Even worse, the Doctor was going to wake up and find you in his arms.

As if on cue, the Doctor started to stir awake. Low grumbles left his mouth as he buried his face further into the pillow beneath him. You stiffened, the change in posture immediately noticeable. You cursed yourself for drawing more attention to the situation.

The Doctor looked down at you, his tired brown eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, unsure what else to do.

“Good morning,” he whispered groggily, his voice at least an octave deeper than usual. You felt your cheeks heat up, almost certain that a blush was rapidly spreading across your face. He wasn’t moving you away or screaming in horror. If anything, he was holding you tighter now.

“Good morning,” you patored back, unable to form any words of your own. What was there to say? “Sorry, I’m a compulsive sleep cuddler, this totally isn’t because I have a massive crush on you please don’t read into it.”

The Doctor’s thumb rubbed small, concentric circles on the small of your back, his eyes still hung up on your face. You wished he wouldn’t look at you like that, like the most beautiful thing in the whole galaxy, like it was nothing.

As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, the Doctor stopped immediately. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and released his arms from around you, the sudden loss of contact disjointed. You frowned slightly and scooted to the other side of the bed, sitting up in the process.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hurriedly, his eyes purposefully avoiding you.

“It’s ok, I really don’t mind, I mean honestly it’s probably my fault,” you responded too quickly, your words falling out of you without much thought. “It’s really not that big of a deal,” you lied.

The Doctor finally looked over at you. By now, you were in expert in reading him. The secret was to look in his eyes. It didn’t matter what face he had, his eyes always told you everything you needed to know. You’d never seen them like this, though. An unfamiliar emotion him, a combination of his emotes you were so familiar with creating something you didn’t know. That worried you.

“Yeah,” he whispered, the look gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. He was back to his cheery self in minutes, stretching his body and springing up out of bed. “Let’s get on with it, maybe the TARDIS has found your room. I’d like to go visit The Beatles, what do you think?” he babbled on, striding across his room.

You scrambled out of his bed, almost begrudged to leave the silky warmth of his sheets. You scurried after him, practically running into his back as he came to a sudden stop. An annoyed groan escaped your lips as you peered over him, searching for the cause of the sudden stop.

The Doctor was pulling on his door handle, struggling to get it open.

“Forget how to open a door?”

“I’m over 900, I didn’t forget how to open a door,” he frowned, still tugging on it.

“Let me try,” you pushed him gently out of the way, tugging on the door handle yourself. Sure enough, it refused to budge. You pulled on it again, using both hands this time. Nothing.

Sheepishly, you turn back to the Doctor, ashamed to admit that he was right. “It’s stuck.”

The Doctor crossed his arms and nodded, an ‘I told you so’ look plastered on his face. He swiftly pulls the Sonic Screwdriver out of his pocket, pointing it at the door with his usual flourish. When it does nothing, he presses a few buttons on the device before trying again. After a few minutes of this, he finally gives up and resorts to kicking the door.

“Doctor!” you cry, grabbing his arm and forcibly dragging him away from the door before he can damage it or himself.

“Do you think…” you sigh, feeling guilty for even insinuating such a thing, “that the TARDIS locked us in here?”

“The TARDIS didn’t lock us in my room,” the Doctor says like it’s the most preposterous thing he had ever heard.

In response, the ship lets out a low groan of disagreement. More versed in the language of the ship, the Doctor noticed first. “You locked us in here?!” he hisses at seemingly nothing, but you know who it’s directed at. The TARDIS hums again, this time in a more approving tone.

“Why?” you butt in to ask. You’re met with nothing but silence.

“I don’t think she’s going to answer that,” the Doctor whispers in your general direction. The ship lets out another hum of approval.

You groan loudly, throwing your hands up in defeat. Not knowing what else to do, you slump back down onto the Doctor’s bed. You sit there for a few seconds just staring at the carpet (‘90s arcade patterned, of course) before the mattress dips next to you. You pull your eyes way from the garish carpet to look at the Doctor, his face equally as dejected as yours.

“I suppose there are worse places to be stuck,” you offer, “could be Mars.”

“There’s more to explore on Mars.”

“There aren’t ‘priceless’ artifacts from B-739, a mobile of the solar system that I’m pretty sure is intended for children, a box of Hotwheels cars, and a collection of pirate maps all in the same corner.”

“The mobile was a gift,” the Doctor defended.

“That’s what you got from all of that?” you chuckle. “It’s like the world's most clustered, excentric, space museum in here.”

“I don’t really sleep in here much. I suppose it’s just become a storage room of sorts,” the Doctor says sheepishly, almost embarrassed to be this open with someone. Sharing this much of his life with you felt strangely raw.

“I think it’s perfect,” you smile, the expression lighting up your whole face, “it’s very you. Chaotic, unorganized, other-worldly, and… beautiful,” you whispered, eyes scanning across the room. It didn’t matter how much you looked at it, there always seemed to be something new and fascinating to look at.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was looking at you. He was flabbergasted at how interested you seemed in it all. The tiny twinkle in your eye reminded him of all the stars he had shown you, all of the alien planets and beautiful corners of space. Yet, you weren’t looking at something particularly odd or beautiful, you were looking at his room. His messy, haphazard collection of strange objects and patterns.

Then, you turned that curious gaze in his direction. He felt his hearts speed up, a subtle but noticeable shift within his body. It was a nasty habit, his body getting excited every time you looked at him like that. He was 903, pretty people smiling at him shouldn’t make him react this way. Yet, you did.

-

Neither of you could figure out what the TARDIS wanted from you, so you eventually gave up trying. There was no point in fighting with the ship, both of you knew that was a losing battle.

You read the Doctor’s first edition of The Hobbit in the comfy warmth of his bed. In that time, the Doctor opted to pace back and forth and fiddle with the door relentlessly. Finally, he gave up and joined you on the bed.

“Do you have any ideas of why we’re in here?” he asked, pulling the book from your hands. You let him slip the paperback from your hands, throwing it on the duvet without bothering to mark your place in the book.

“If I did, we wouldn’t be in here,” you pointed out, looking at the discarded book longingly. The Doctor popped his head back into your field of vision, clearly not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“It has to do with both of us, otherwise she wouldn’t have hidden your room.”

“Maybe she just thinks we need a few days off.”

The Doctor shakes his head, “She wouldn’t lock us in a room for that, she would just refuse to fly anywhere.”

“Maybe she thinks we’re fighting. Are we fighting?”

“Not that I know of,” he shrugs.

“I didn’t think so. Maybe we pissed her off?”

The Doctor shook his head again, “she doesn’t seem mad.” You didn’t need to question any further, you knew that the Doctor could read the TARDIS’ emotions better than his own sometimes.

“If it’s not anger, what is it?”

“Annoyance?” he said. You couldn’t tell if he was guessing or just generally unsure.

“Has she ever done this before?”

“Once she locked me out of the ship when I complained about her never taking me where I wanted to go, but this is different.”

“Have you said anything mean about her lately?” you asked more out of curiosity than animosity, but the Doctor interpreted it as the latter. He could be quite sensitive.

“No! Have you?”

“I have nothing but love and respect for the ship. She has put up with you longer than any of us ever could.” The TARDIS hummed in agreement while the Doctor scowled.

“I don’t know what we did!” he groans, falling back dramatically on the bed.

“Are you hiding something from me? A big secret?” you say as if you aren’t the one hiding feelings for the other.

The TARDIS lets out a quiet hum that lets you know you’re on the right track and you grin, poking the Doctor.

“I’m not hiding anything!” he swats you away, ��maybe you’re the one hiding things away.”

You shake your head. For a second the two of you just look at each other. It’s hard not to get lost in his deep brown eyes, they’re endless pools of wisdom that can only come from centuries of living. Beneath the wary tiredness and stoic armor you can see who he really is, a lost wanderer looking for a place to call home. It was foolish, but you secretly wished you could be that home.

“You have really nice eyes,” the Doctor whispered.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you whisper back.

“You were also thinking about how nice your eyes are?” he frowns in confusion.

You laugh, a smile taking over your face at his blatant obliviousness. “No, I was thinking your eyes are nice. I like them.”

“Oh… thank you?”

You nod, momentarily getting lost in his eyes again. Your mind was a mess, a kaleidoscope of him, the TARDIS, and your feelings for the former. You wanted so desperately to tell him how you felt, as you often did. Albeit, now was not the opportune moment. If he reacted poorly, you’d still be stuck in the room with him for an unknown amount of time.

And then it hit you. The TARDIS wanted you to admit something. She knew you had a secret, she maybe even knew what the secret was.

“Doctor?” you whisper shakily, surprised to find your voice uncertain and wavy.

“Mhm?” He pulled his attention to you.

“I just wanted to say that I love you.”

The room was silent for a moment. Neither of you moved or said a word, the normally quiet sounds of breathing and movement heightened by the lack of words between you.

“You too,” he finally said, his voice quiet. You knew admitting feelings was hard for him, especially when it came to things like love, so you couldn’t really blame him for the lackluster response.

You nodded, “I mean as more than a friend.”

“I know.”

Now it was your turn to sit in silence, your brain whirling as it tried to process his words. Was it hopeful to assume that he felt the same? That was what he had said, no?

“I’m very fond of you,” he added, sensing your confusion on the matter. “As more than a friend.”

You studied his eyes again. That unfamiliar look was back. For a minute you entertained the thought that it might be a look of admiration, love even.

The Doctor moved his hand into yours, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. It was a normal action from him, but it still sent your stomach into a frenzy.

“It’s quite an inconvenience, honestly. Makes it hard to get anything properly done when you’re around.”

You chuckle, a small smile forming on your lips.

“You’re my favorite distraction,” he said earnestly. In his own way, it was his way of saying you were the most fascinating, beautiful, unique, and magnificent thing he had ever seen. He’d rather have a day with you than centuries with anyone or anything else.

He leaned closer to you, his face hovering inches away from yours. He waited, giving you time and space to move away or protest. When you didn’t, he slowly closed the gap.

His lips connected with yours, the kiss short and light, but it conveyed the years of affection and yearning. He pulled away, both of you smiling like love sick idiots.

Satisfied, the TARDIS opened the door with a click, the sound echoing around the room.

[simp-ly-writes]

Lost Souls & Broken Hearts

─────── · ·  For All Time: The Series (pt.1)

─ · · PAIRING: 10th Doctor x F!Time Lord!Reader, 10th Doctor x Rose Tyler

─ · · SUMMARY: You thought yourself to be the last remaining Time Lord but that all changes when a certain Rose Tyler catches you breaking into your own apartment and is dead set on introducing you to the Doctor, your husband back on Gallifrey.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, second person perspective, canon divergence, soulmate au, emotional angst, depictions of anxiety attacks, coarse language, eventual happy ending (but not yet), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,223 | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

─ · · A/N: I'm so excited to finally be writing this, hope you all enjoy!

─────── · · 

It was easy blending in with human life, a bit too easy, you thought to yourself while carrying your shopping bags up the stairs and around the corner down the hall towards your apartment.

Living in the city made it easy to blend into the crowd and not be questioned, chased or judged. You could simply observe as the world spun around you day after day and as the human race followed its canonical historical calendar.

Sure you could skip time to make everyday Christmas or take a turn around the stars and be back for breakfast but the utter domesticity and simplicity of taking a boring human job, studying at a boring human university, and generally performing a boring human life was a pleasant enough change from the usual or what was the usual at least, you often thought. 

Once reaching the oak door, you jiggled the door handle with a huff before remembering the silly little key the landlord gave you, like that would stop anyone from coming in.

Patting down every pocket and starting to lose hope, you take one long look left and then right before quickly pulling out your sonic screwdriver from your jacket pocket and point it at the lock.

"Excuse me Ma'am, but can I ask you-" a young blonde woman halts your motions causing you to take a sharp breath in through your nose before turning swiftly on the heels of your leather boots, long coat sweeping with the dramatic motion to meet the younger woman's sheepish stare and greeting her with a plastered smile on your painted lips.

"It's The Lady actually, or Lady for short, but I also go by (name, last/name) now… what's your name and how may I assist you?" You tilt your head forwards, eyebrow raised to observe the woman's fashion choices with intrigue as the younger woman appears to do the same to you with squinted eyes.

"Well hello, Lady,” she drags out your old title with a sarcastic tone, “I'm Rose Tyler and I was just about to ask what the hell do you think you're doing breaking into that apartment with that-" she takes a sharp breath inwards, the recognizable type gasp, you thinks to yourself, eyes gone with with pure panic before kicking open your front door and throwing your bags to the floor before starting to rush inside.

Rose grabs your arm, pulling you back into the hall and pinning you against the chipped plaster wall. Blowing a strand of hair from your face, you shake underneath Rose's hold with a huff before managing to shove her off. "You know on this planet I was told they shake hands in greeting- not the whole bloody body!" you exclaim with a huff, adjusting the jacket on your shoulders, sonic screwdriver in hand.

Rose shakes her head, mouth aghast, "how did you get that?" she asks, fingers pointing towards the device in your  hand, taking a step forwards as you take one step back, "Get what?"

"That screwdriver!" Rose reaches out with both hands now, brain half frazzled with her discovery, the other clouded over with worry as to what this woman must have done to the Doctor in order to get that off of him.

"Oh, this?" you dangle the device from between your fingertips before tossing it upwards and catching it with a wink, "got it from the contractor's store on Yonge Street. They were having a sale, I think you may still be able to get the deal, half-off or something like that-"

"Don't lie to me, I know what that is. Now tell me how. did. you. get. that?" Rose demands, hand slipping into her pocket to phone the TARDIS.

"If not a screwdriver then what is it?" you ask, looking over Rose's shoulder and into your apartment, calculating.

"Just answer my question!" Rose yells, phone starting to ring. 

“What is going on out here?!” You both look towards an older blonde woman who steps out from across the hall in what looks to be a dull yellow bathrobe, “and who the hell are- you’ve got to be kidding me, you’ve found another one? Fucking ‘ell Rose Tyler, I’m starting to think danger follows you better then your own shadow!” 

“Mum! Now is not the time please and you-” Rose begins to speak before realizing you had taken down the hall and slammed the apartment door shut with a heavy BANG! Echoing down the hall. 

“Now look at what you’ve done!” Rose huffs, fingers balling up into fists as she walks past her mother to stand in front of your door, knocking repeatedly. 

“And what have I done?” Rose’s mom stands back, arms crossed as she watches her daughter switch between ringing your doorbell and banging on your door. “I know you’re in there! I’ve got words for you!”

Meanwhile inside the apartment, you are rushing around, tripping over the various groceries that have spilled out onto the wooden floors and knocking into the picture frames across the walls. You were not expecting to have to move so soon and to say you were disappointed to have to leave so soon would be an understatement.

Your features hold a frown as you rip open the closet doors and throw every article of clothing out onto your bed in search of a specific piece of luggage. I know I left you here somewhere girl. C’mon I know you must be just dying to get out there again so now’s your chance! Just have to show me where you- your thoughts are cut off by Rose’s relentless pleas as she yells in through the mail slot now. 

Gods that girl is really getting on my nerves now, is this really any way to introduce yourself? You scoff. Turing back out of your room and down the hall to the guest room and closet in search, nearly tipping over a tangerine on your way there with a curse. 

Never liked those fruits either, clementines are superior in every way, why do I torture myself with these things- why do I- oh! There you are, you look at the red luggage with a smile before unzipping it to find the uncovered stairs within and throwing down various papers and gadgets, anything that could link to her identity within the apartment. 

Textbooks, tea, pictures… you felt yourself pausing on the last one of that list, your fingers hovering over the some dozen faces you saw right through that all contained the same hearts and those hearts that you willingly connected yourself to all those centuries ago…

Shaking your head of those distant thoughts you throw the frames down into the luggage before taking one last look towards your… open front door? Shit. You spin on your heel, darting off towards the guest room and falling into your luggage, tumbling down the stairs and finding yourself at the console. 

The machine stirs to life with a joyous tune, Hello! Hello! Welcome back, I have missed you so! You laugh at the voice in your head, I’ve missed you too, girl. Now who’s ready for an adventure? You watch as the room comes to life, every bulb shining to full illumination, switches and dials spinning without your hands to command them and that familiar buzz underneath your feet has you giddy in your shoes- it had been quite awhile since you’ve had a frill… since… you remind yourself not to have such memories before inputting a time and destination and lean back against the rails waiting for the vworp sound to commence. 

But before you can begin to enjoy the sound, a voice calls out to you and not the two you had accounted for in your brain. Grabbing the edge of the console and poking your head around you look to see… Rose?! 

“Do explain yourself,” you cross your arms with squinted eyes. 

“How’re you alive?” Rose rebuttals. 

“Answering a question with another question again?” you tease a smile, biting your lip to hide its spread across your cheeks as you try and maintain a straight face. 

“What are you smiling about? Gods you are just as worse as him! And you started the question-answer thing!” Rose exclaims before taking in a deep breath and meeting your eyes once more, “Okay. I decided to follow you. I was… curious. I’ve travelled with your kind before but had never seen another one of… well you unless you’re the Doctor and decided to regenerate again… but then again we’d be in a blue box not some luggage.”

“The Doctor?” you question in a raised tone, you feel your hearts skip a beat in your chest, no… that couldn’t be… 

“Yeah, the Doctor. Do you know him?... Them? They? I don’t know how you refer to each other in the past,” Rose explains, starting to walk around the console, picking up on the various differences between the two machines she’s travelled inside. 

“I don’t know them,” you lie, turning back to the console and flicking some levers. 

“Really? You don’t know the Doctor?” Rose asks again in a much softer tone. You can feel the disappointment in her tone rattling your bones causing you to shiver at the sound of his name. You could distantly remember the sound of his voice calling after you regenerations ago, feel his touch against your skin, feel the way his essence buzzed with pleasure being combined with your own- “No. I… kept to myself back on Gallifrey,” you lie again. 

“Huh, do you know any other Time Lords?” she peers into the valves at the centre of the console, watching as the flicker between yellow and blue hues like a rampant fire. 

“What is this?- an interrogation Miss. Tyler?” you tease, walking behind the girl to reach the other side of the console as you correct your travel angle to a quarter of the degree, “I’ve met one other one… but he is long gone now…” your voice trails off as you stare at the specks of dirt on your outfit with utmost intrigue. 

Rose apologizes, “sorry.”

“For breaking and entering? Or for questioning me?” you joke, bumping the bad mood off yourself and into her shoulder as you smile at the girl. 

“May I ask a few questions? Since it seems you’re stuck with me now for the next hour or so,” you look down at your watch before tipping your head in the direction of your kitchen, “tea?”

“Yes please.” 

─────── · · 

Rose tells you all about her travels with the Doctor across the years, you don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes nor the sound of her heart soaring, pupils dilating everytime she brings up his name. You remember being that person, in utter awe of his intelligence, wit and wisdom. Put under a spell of his charm, weak to his touch… But with every word she adds, every memory that resurfaces, a new pain settles across your skin that you pick at, eyes flashing with a burning pain at the physical proof that he moved on from me… thought me good as dead… didn’t think of our bond…  

“Are you alright there?” Rose asks, reaching across the table to hold your hands, “I’m really sorry now. I was not thinking how painful it must have been to be alone for so long… you don’t have to be alone anymore though, you could take us back to earth after this adventure and I could introduce you to the Doctor and-”

You squeeze her hands in yours, leaning forwards across the table and letting out a long breath to only answer in a whisper, “it’s okay dear. I rather liked being alone… gives me time to think and after what you’ve told me… I think I need more time than ever.” 

Rose nods, “Are you sure- I think he’d love to meet- I mean okay! But do let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will,” you nod back before dropping your touch and leaning back in your chair, “now I do believe you had more questions and I have many answers.” 

“I wish for only the truthful ones,” Rose smiles as you mirror hers to hide the guilt gnawing at your hearts. “How old are you?”

Coughing up a part of your tea with the shock of the question, you laugh, “you know it's rather rude to ask a Lady her age,” you tease, “but I’m.. old… I think I’ve recently reached 900 but I would have to count again. I’ll get back to you on that.” 

Rose nods, “what planet do you like the most?” 

“Earth,” you say instantly. 

“Why?” 

“It's become a second home to me.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to your home planet.”

You look away, remembering the skyscrapers that reached the reddish glow of the homeworld atmosphere. “It was a sad necessity or else the wars never would have stopped,” you explain. 

“Is that what you truly believe?” she whispers, tone anxious, knowing that she really shouldn’t have asked but can’t help but desire to know. You partially admire this trait of hers. 

“It’s what I know,” your head falls, eyes cast to the remaining tea leaves at the bottom of your cup, observing the abstract picture with a frown.

“Lighter question, where are we going?” you shrug, “It didn’t really matter to me then… but with a human aboard…” you stand, speaking to yourself as you look at the travel log on the console, huh, why Earth?

“Say Rose, does Earth, January 2025 ring a bell?” 

“That's the first time I met the Doctor!” Rose smiles, jumping up from her spot and running down the hall to meet you, eyes cast over your shoulder with intrigue. 

“Great,” you smile tightly before slowly turning back to the screen, cursing your TARDIS.

─────── · · 

You could laugh at yourself, back where you started just a few years behind at some random street corner in Scotland. “Now this is not where we met but the time’s the same,” Rose says, eyes cast over wet cobblestones reflecting the setting sun. You let out a breath in relief. 

The streets were quiet as people prepared themselves for work the next day and you took off down the street, peering into various storefronts and cafes, a whole sleepy city all to ourselves, and to think I doubted you girl. You can hear the TARDIS buzz excitedly before quieting down once more within your head. 

“What’re we doing here exactly?” Rose asks, you turn around and shrug, placing your hands into your pockets. 

“Enjoying the world like we’re the last ones on it,” you reply with a smile before tilting your head, “how does a walk around the park sound?”

“Sounds a bit too easy than what I’m used to,” Rose laughs, looping her arm around your own, “usually when I’m with the Doctor the worlds about it end.”

“Is that so?” you mumble, “and what does he do about it?”

“Well, he saves the day of course!” Rose deadpans, scoffing at your question. 

“Does he shoot them? Kill them? Converse with them? How does he save it?” you keep your stare forwards so that Rose cannot pick up on your minute expressions, I know how he ‘saved the day’ last time… you think to yourself bitterly. He left you behind, better left for dead, you watched him do so without a second glance back and now he was with the girl on your arm that you walked around with in a barren Scottish park.  

You cursed yourself in this moment for not being able to move on centuries later, for waiting to feel his soul call out to you once more. You could still feel a part of him, maybe it was hope but you thought-no, knew him to be alive after all of these years. You wondered if he still felt you too but then again… he wouldn’t have gotten with her then… right? You ask yourself.  

You could remember his smile on your skin on your soul-bonding day, your wedding day where two became one for all time, for all existence, until the very end… or at least that's what you gave to him, the promise of forever… but at least he’s happy now… but that thought almost hurt more knowing what he was happy with someone else, you curse yourself for the selfish thought. 

Rose notices you stopped listening to her as she stops walking, causing you to pause alongside her. She walks in front of you, grabbing your shoulders as you tense in wait, remembering how the morning went. “I’m not gonna shake you for all your worth again, don’t worry about that but what’s going through your head? You stopped listening long ago…”

You stare at her, observing her youthful features, worried smile and kind eyes. You feel a stake driving through your chest, the last strand of your bond wilting away painfully slowly, untying itself from inside you causing you to grip your chest as you heave over your knees, falling to the ground. 

“Oh my god, you’re not okay. Shoot, shoot, shoot! You we’re supposed to tell me if I could help with something! I’m going to call the Doctor, okay? He’ll know what to do with a sick Time Lord better than I will, just gimme a minute okay? Don’t go anywhere,” she warns you like a stern mother, finger in your face as she waits for you to nod. You just stare blankly up at her, a singular tear falling from your eye that opens the floodgates to a waterfall. 

You cry out your pain, knowing this to be how heartbreak feels. You remember reading about the science behind the bonds in your youth, enraptured with them. You would become soulmates with someone from them… two parts always able to recognize the other no matter what and even after death. And when treated right, the bond could strengthen and so would the couple and when weakened… so would its parts. 

You felt it vividly. A fire starting up from your feet spreading up to your head as you shook off a sweat in the grass watching as the moon came up from the horizon… I wonder if he’s looking too, feels this too…

─────── · · 

“Doctor!’ Rose yells down the line, eyes watching as you rock yourself back and forth refusing to meet her gaze, actively wincing everytime she tips her head trying to chase your own stare. 

“What? Where are you? I’m waiting outside your flat and your mother keeps staring me through the window like I’m the creep,” the Doctor replies, he feels a pang at his heart as he stares down at his chest, eyebrow raised in question as he touches the hurt gently before hitting his chest with a grunt and standing up straight one more. 

“I’m currently in Scotland-” Rose begins to speak before being cut off by a worried Time Lord. 

“What on Earth are you doing there?! When did this happen?” 

“Well only about two hours or so ago, I met another Time Lord and I kinda became a stow-away, she’s really nice! A bit sassy but I take that’s a part of your species DNA,” Rose rambles, kneeling down by your form, hand outstretched that you flinch away from, she pulls away quickly, feeling guilty for trying in the first place. 

“A what?” the Doctor gasps, vowels open alongside his jaw as he stares at Jackie, not believing a word he hears. 

“A Time Lord, you know console, sonic screwdriver, time travel and all that jazz,” she explains, “and she’s hurt, I don’t know what happened but she looks to be in a lot of pain. Please come quickly… I'm scared for her, I don’t like the thought of you being the last one left when we could have done something about it.”

“C-can you tell me her name?” the Doctor asks gently, sprinting back to his TARDIS.

Rose pauses, did I really just hear the Doctor stutter? She asks herself before responding, “She said her title was Lady but takes on a human name now-”

“Are you absolutely sure that was her name?” the Doctor asks, a sudden wave of sickness has him crashing into the console, gripping its ledge as he sways side to side, impossible, he thinks to himself. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’ll be there soon,” the Doctor says with utter determination, with utter need, he must see this for himself… see possibly you, “keep your phone on Rose, I’ll track the signal to your location.” 

─────── · · 

You hear as their conversation ends and you stare up at the star filled sky above as the oil lamps flicker on around you both. “If-” you wince at your weak tone, clearing your throat before beginning again, “If he’s coming here then this is where we must part ways… it was… nice getting to meet you Rose. Please, treat him well,” you smile softly up at Rose as she stares down at you, shock evident across her features before they are sculpted sharp into a frustrated expression. 

“You lied to me! You told me you didn’t know him, who are you truly?” she demands, watching as you stand with a wobble on your feet. You can hear the Doctor's muffled voice in her pocket, demanding to know what is going on. You look between both voices before turning back and walking towards your red luggage left on the street corner, “Goodbye Rose!” you yell hearing as she chases after you. 

“Please just tell me who you are, please stay, please-”

You fail to turn around, one foot in your TARDIS, the other on the cobbled streets, another play of history about to be written on these very stones. “I’m the Lady, I’m (name, last/name), and I’m leaving behind the past like I should’ve many centuries ago. Live a good life, Rose. The best life, with many walks in the park… make sure he does the same, okay?” 

Rose stares at you for a long moment, you both look up to watch as a blue box descends from the sky at a rapid speed. “But why can’t you tell me who you are?”

“Let the Doctor tell you whatever he wants you to know… I don’t want to become between you both,” you smile at her one last time before shutting and locking the door behind yourself and setting a course off somewhere you knew yourself never to be found, at least not for a long time. 

─────── · · 

The Doctor falls out the door, cursing as he sees the red box flicker before disappearing before his very eyes. He chases after the spot in which you last stood, shaking his head in disbelief as he grips his hair before turning towards his companion. “You really weren’t lying, there was another Time Lord here,” he blinks rapidly, hearts squeezing in his chest- impossibly tight as he coughs, feeling his airways somehow becoming affected. 

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Rose races to his side, shocked when he flinches away from her touch as if she burned him. “I’m fine just a little under the weather is all, should be good in a minute or two,” the Doctor rushes out to explain, “and are you positive that was her name?”

“Yes!” Rose replies exasperatedly, “why do you keep asking? Who is she? Why- how do you know each other?” 

The Doctor remains silent, choosing his next words carefully as he slowly walks back to the Blue Box, Rose in tow. “We grew up together…but that's a story for another time.”

“Why another time, why not now? She had the same reaction you're having,” Rose presses, taking a step forwards, cornering the man in between two sets of rails. The Doctor keeps his head low, “Is she your friend, companion, ex?” The Doctor does not even breathe. 

“She’s your ex, huh… girlfriend? fiancee?... wife?” Rose whispers the last title underneath her breath catching the way the Doctor’s breath hitches as he takes in a sharp breath of air.

“So that’s why you could never call anything official?” Rose questions yet she knows the answer. She blinks rapidly, stepping back as she is confused as to how to feel. She knew him to be a centuries old creature, lived longer and will live longer than she ever could, ever would and yet… she couldn’t help but feel disturbed knowing that in the few years they shared together… he hadn’t been entirely truthful. 

“What else are you hiding from me, Doctor?” she whispers underneath her breath. The Doctor remains silent, simply staring down at his converse, gripping the rail behind him with white knuckles. “I thought her to be dead, could feel it up in here,” he points up to his head in explanation.

Rose strides forwards, painted finger poking at his chest, he swears to feel it underneath his suit, gritting his teeth at the pricking feeling that spreads across his warm chest. “But you failed to listen here, didn’t you?” 

─────── · · 

PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

↳ Taglist: @just-levyy

[bad-wolf-blue]

The Longest Hour

10th Doctor X Reader

Description: The doctor leaves the reader in a time pocket to keep them safe but time moves differently than he thought

The TARDIS thrummed softly, its ancient mechanisms alive with an energy that seemed to mirror the Doctor’s own. He darted around the console with his usual manic grace, his brown trench coat flaring as he flipped switches and pulled levers. You stood near the railing, arms crossed, watching him work.

"Alright, explain this plan to me again," you said, raising an eyebrow.

He spun around to face you, his face alight with enthusiasm. "Simple! Well, simple-ish. The planet Kallenyx is in a bit of a pickle—unstable core, mass tectonic disruption, potentially catastrophic for their civilization."

"So, Tuesday," you replied dryly.

"Exactly!" He pointed at you, grinning. "But here’s the catch: I need to go into the planet's central seismic hub—think of it as the planet’s heart—to stabilize the core manually. It’s dangerous, obviously, but that’s where the fun begins!"

You frowned. "What about me?"

His grin faltered, replaced by a softer, almost guilty expression. He stepped closer, hands finding your shoulders. "That’s the tricky part. I can’t risk bringing you along this time. It’s too unstable, and I won’t—can’t—let anything happen to you."

Your heart sank, but you nodded. "Okay, so where does that leave me?"

He straightened, his eyes gleaming with a new idea. "Ah, here’s the clever bit! I’ll take you to a temporal safe zone—tiny pocket of time where you’ll be completely protected. To you, it’ll feel like only a minute has passed, even if I’m gone for hours. It’s perfect!"

You gave him a skeptical look. "And this...safe zone? You’re absolutely sure it works the way you think it does?"

"Of course!" He hesitated. "Well, probably. Ninety-eight percent sure."

You stared at him.

"Alright, ninety-five percent. But those are good odds!"

Sighing, you relented. "Fine. Just...come back to me, okay?" He cupped your face gently, his voice soft. "Always."

The TARDIS landed with a familiar wheeze, and the Doctor led you out into a breathtaking landscape. The ground was covered in soft, glowing moss that shimmered with each step. The sky above was a swirling canvas of purples and blues, dotted with stars that seemed far too close.

"Welcome to the Temporal Nexus," he announced, spreading his arms wide. "Time moves differently here—a minute for you is an hour out there. Safe, serene, and completely outside of danger."

You looked around, awe mixing with unease. "It’s...beautiful. But are you sure this will work?" He nodded, his confidence returning. "Absolutely. Now, I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone." You stepped closer, gripping his hand. "Promise me."

His expression softened. "I promise."

With one last kiss to your forehead, he turned and disappeared into the TARDIS, the sound of its engines fading into the distance.

At first, it was fine. Peaceful, even. You wandered through the shimmering landscape, marveling at its strange beauty. The air was crisp, the silence soothing. You tried to focus on the Doctor’s words: Only a minute. He’ll be back before you know it.

But as time dragged on, unease crept in. The silence became oppressive, the stillness unsettling. Minutes felt like hours.

You tried to rationalize it. Maybe he got held up. It’s the Doctor—he always manages to complicate things. But as the hours stretched into what felt like days, doubt and fear began to take hold.

Your throat grew dry, your stomach ached with hunger, and sleep refused to come. The endless expanse of glowing moss and swirling skies offered no comfort, only a cruel reminder of how alone you were.

By the time the TARDIS returned, Days had passed— you were sitting crouched beneath a tree, trembling, cold and dehydrated. When the familiar wheeze and groan of the TARDIS filled the air, you had not strength left to pull yourself to stand and go to your Doctor.

Once landed The Doctor burst out, his face lighting up at the sight of you—until he saw your condition. His expression crumbled, horror and guilt washing over him.

"No," he whispered, rushing to your side. "No, no, no. What happened? This wasn’t supposed to—oh, stupid, stupid me!" He knelt beside you, his hands hovering over your face, his voice shaking. "I thought it was safe. I didn’t know—"

You managed a weak smile, your voice hoarse. "Took your time, didn’t you?"

"Time?" he choked out. "It was only supposed to be an hour! Minutes for you! I didn’t—"

You reached up, brushing your fingers against his cheek. "I know. You didn’t mean to. You were trying to protect me."

His face crumpled further, tears welling in his eyes. "I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. I should’ve checked. I—"

"Doctor," you interrupted gently. "I’m okay now. You’re here."

He didn’t look convinced, but he scooped you into his arms, cradling you as he carried you back to the TARDIS. Inside, he laid you gently on the jump seat, fussing over you like a worried parent.

"Water. You need water," he muttered, rushing to fetch a glass. "And food. And rest—lots of rest."

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your body too weak to protest as he wrapped you in a blanket and pressed a glass of water to your lips.

I should’ve known," he murmured, mostly to himself. "I thought I was keeping you safe, and instead..."

You reached out, gripping his hand. "It’s okay. You saved the world, didn’t you?"

He shook his head, his voice breaking. "Not if it meant this. Not if it meant hurting you."

"You didn’t hurt me," you said softly. "You were trying to protect me. That’s what matters."

He sat beside you, his head bowed. "I’ll never leave you like that again. Never."

"I know," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.

For a long while, the two of you sat there in silence, the TARDIS humming gently around you. Slowly, the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his hearts began to ease the ache in your chest.

And as the TARDIS drifted through time and space, the Doctor held you close, silently vowing to do better—for you, always for you.

[badwolfrose34]

Girl in the Fireplace Rant (cont.)

There was at least some engagement on my last post about this so I decided I will in fact post a follow up. GitF was 100% a bad faith episode. Moffat wrote it because he is classist and misogynistic and hates Rose. Unfortunately, part of his purpose for the episode was to show that the Doctor will always prefer a “classy” aristocrat over Rose and he wanted to have her treated as nothing. So, all of us Rose fans have to come up with a headcanon that undermines the writer’s intentions.

I think the most common one is to believe the episode was the Doctor’s attempts to push Rose away because of her mortality and how that scares him.

That never worked for me because a major part of the Doctor’s character is his protectiveness. He would never push her away to the point of danger or abandonment. For me, I feel that fictional or not, the actions of the Doctor in that episode would be entirely unforgivable if they did happen. So my headcanon is that this episode was a nightmare Rose had.

If you are like me are also one of the fans for whom the pushing her away theory doesn’t work, read on for my explanation of why I don’t think GitF could be an actual event within canon. Moffat may be a BBC writer but it doesn’t give him a right to completely undermine the show, it doesn’t actually belong to anyone outside of financial concerns. If you’re content with believing he needed to push Rose away and that the episode did happen, you can ignore this.

Why the events GitF did not happen within canon (but could’ve happened as a nightmare)

1. Doctor Who canon is very loose as it is. With multiple writers across multiple mediums, things do contradict each other and us as fans get to decide for ourselves what fits with canon and what does not.

2. The Doctor has been clearly shown to be in love with Rose. He is protective of her to the point that if a decision will kill everyone else but give her even a slight chance of survival, he can’t actually make that decision. He almost did in Dalek, but after she didn’t get through the barricade the first time he was incapable of significantly reducing her safety for the good of everyone else. He snapped awake from a regeneration coma just because Rose said “help me”. He freaked out when Cassandra had her body and again in Tooth and Claw when she was in trouble. If you count Stone Rose that almost certainly took place before GitF and he once again, lost his mind over Rose being a statue.

I do understand seeing Sarah Jane age freaked him out. And I could’ve understood him distancing himself from Rose a bit in some way. But his instinct to protect her is so strong he’d never sacrifice her safety to push her away. Leaving her alone with clockwork for an extended period of time while he partied and invented drinks is impossible enough. Let alone the way he believed he’d have no way back to the ship when he went through the time window for the last time. Not only had he just promised she could spend the rest of her life with him, but her and Mickey would’ve likely died alone on that abandoned spaceship.

Simply, it’s just too out of character to happen within the rest of the Ninth and Tenth Doctors’ canon.

3. The horse. I have been a big horse person my entire life. Horses have extremely strong flight instincts. Even the most trusting and well trained horse in the world is never going to jump through reinforced glass. I do realize as Sci Fi fans we have to suspend disbelief for a lot of things. But we are never given an explanation as to why this horse would behave so dramatically differently from another horse. Every bizarre thing we accept in the DW universe is explained to some extent. There is a book where the Doctor tames a horse with psychic paper. But that horse is never asked to violate its instincts. That horse behaves as any other tame horse behaves. That is an example of acceptable DW suspension of belief. There is still a sci fi/alien technical explanation and I can absorb it. I cannot absorb a horse jumping through a firm glass window unless they were running from something even scarier. No matter how well trained a horse is, it’s not jumping through glass just because a humanoid asked them to. Nothing was chasing Arthur and his body language did not suggest any kind of fear to indicate he was running from something even scarier. All the droids were already in the other side of the window as well. It’s simply bizarre and impossible, even in a sci fi snow. Within this very show the Doctor states you can’t hypnotize someone beyond their survival instincts. I believe this applies to horses and a horse’s instincts is to avoid jumping through or into a reinforced barrier.

Next, we are given no explanation as to how this horse jumped through glass unscathed. Glass that was said to be so strong only a truck could break through. Horses are also extremely delicate and many have fatally injured themselves just playing in the paddock. Even for injuries not that extreme, every horse person knows that even small things result in giant vet bills.

Finally, it is once again grossly out of character for the Doctor to take a living animal and make them do something he previously calculated would required a truck.

4. Things are back to normal as if the episode never happened by the Rise of the Cybermen. If the Doctor had really developed feelings for another woman so strong that he would leave Rose for dead, then lost her, would he just be back to being the same old Doctor the very next episode? I doubt it. The Doctor is also a character known for holding on to guilt. Even if Reinette was mechanism to push Rose away, the way he abandoned her would’ve caused enough guilt he wouldn’t just be normal the very next episode. The show carries on as if Reinette never happened because Reinette never happened.

The only reference to that GitF is some clockwork droids in John Smith’s journal. Which could be explained by another encounter with the droids or by the Doctor looking at Rose’s mind to see the nightmare. Which would be an intimate enough moment to imprint on John Smith’s subconscious. The words “a girl in every fireplace” can once again refer to the Doctor seeing Rose’s nightmare or another off screen adventure entirely. There is no reference strong enough to confirm the actual events of GitF ever happened. The show functions exactly the same way without it. Because, it never happened.

5. The events of the show make perfect sense as a nightmare in Rose’s head. Take it from someone with a degree in psychology. Rose has abandonment wounds from Jimmy Stone. She also has abandonment wounds from her father dying when she was too young to understand it. School Reunion, the episode right before GitF triggers her abandonment wounds by making her see the Doctor has previously left companions and did not come back for them. It also makes her wonder if she is special to the Doctor. These doubts combined with her past trauma are a perfect recipe for her to have a bizarre nightmare where she gets abandoned in the most horrific way after the events of School Reunion.

I will leave you all with my fic where this was all a nightmare. Or you can write your own if you prefer. My point is that for those who feel the way I do about this episode, we do not have to accept the events as canon. We do not have to believe the Doctor has ever treated Rose this way except in her worst nightmares.

Update to address Deep Breath:

1. Doctor mentioned seeing clockwork droids before, but we know that the Doctor has many off screen adventures. He could’ve encountered the droids at any other point in his entire life besides GitF.

2. As for that episode stating the SS Madame De Pompadour existed, that still doesn’t confirm anything. There was a real life ship called the USS Queen of France. This was named for Marie Antoinette. Jackie dated a sailor once and Rose had a friend named Keisha whose brother was a sailor. This means Rose could’ve heard one of them discussing historical naval ships. This how she would imagine a ship named after Madame de Pompadour in the first place. She and the people who built the SS Madame de Pompadour and SS Marie Antoinette would’ve simply drawn inspiration from the same place. Also, there’s the fact that someone named a fictional ship Titan many years before Titanic ever existed.

Update 2: Rose was going to get an A level in French if she hadn’t run off with Jimmy. So she could’ve reasonably been familiar with some aspects of French history and able to imagine all of these things in a dream, even if it wasn’t a historically accurate dream, everyone knows weird things happen in dreams.

[once-ina-blue-moon]

he fell asleep under the tardis console again 🙄

[tardisblueten]

Desperate To Cool Off

[Tenth Doctor x Reader smut]

Content warning: SMUT (18+ ONLY), sex pollen, (slight) breeding kink! fem reader, riding, creampie, kinddd of subby/whiney/desperate doctor.

Summary: The Doctor and his companion accidentally get a hold of an aphrodisiac pollen on an alien planet.

Notes: This is my first time writing any kind of creative fiction really since MIDDLE SCHOOL... so please bare with me and let me know what you think! <3

The day started off typical. Well, typical for the Doctor and his companion. The Tardis had just abruptly landed in the middle of an exotic rainforest on an alien planet. The two of you stepped out of the Tardis and took in the breathtaking scenery. Beautiful alien trees and colorful vegetation surrounded you in every direction. Foreign bird-like, and insect-like creatures chirped and buzzed loudly. The forest floor was coated with twisting bright green vines that were dampened from the last rainfall. You wasted no time running off to explore, your face beaming with excitement. The Doctor smiled fondly at how cute you are when you’re excited.

You spent the adventure gawking at the outlandish plants. “Oh that’s an Arthropodemorus.” The Doctor informed you as you leaned in to get a closer look at the bizarre plant with teeth. “It kind of reminds me of a-” “Venus fly trap?” The Doctor cut you off, smugly grinning with his hands in his pockets. You glared at him and playfully rolled your eyes, “Yes.” Sometimes the know-it-all attitude of the Doctor annoyed you, but it definitely didn’t make you love him any less. “Distant cousins! They eat the pesky insects native to this planet. Helps keep them from over-populating the ecosystem.” He smiled.

“Oooh what about this one?” You were mesmerized by a beautifully weird looking flower, about the size of your head, just to the left of you. You crouched down to its level and the Doctor leaned over you to inspect the large plant. It had gorgeous thin spiky petals that faded from white to a deep purple. The middle part of the flower was an ominous dark red with a giant green stigma and stamens erecting from it. “Oh dear…” The Doctor nervously murmured. “Isn’t this just beautiful…” You whispered, inching in even closer to admire it. “Y/N… If I’m not mistaken, that’s a very dangerous plant-” The Doctor urgently tugged on your elbow, trying to get you to stand up. “I think it’s best if we took a step back just for safety precautions because-” 

Before you could even fully process the Doctor’s rambling, the flower suddenly puckered and viciously spat out an enormous thick cloud of yellow dust. It hit you right in the face causing you to jolt back and fall onto the ground. The Doctor stumbled back, nearly falling over himself as the cloud infiltrated his nostrils too. The both of you were stunned, coughing and choking on the cloud of gold pollen that slowly wafted throughout the surrounding area. “Y/N…” The Doctor gasped out between wheezy coughs. He fanned the air with one hand and helped you up to your wobbling feet with his other as you both struggled to breathe. The Doctor led the two of you back to the safety of the Tardis in a hurry, running as fast as both of your wobbly legs could carry you, nearly tripping on the exotic vines and roots of the forest floor. 

The Doctor slammed the Tardis door behind him. He leaned against it in distress as he hacked more. You ran towards the console and let your weak body crash to the floor. You both heaved for a few moments, desperately trying to catch your breath and finally breathe in some clean air. You looked up at the Doctor who was across the room. He was limply sitting on the floor, back leaning against the Tardis door, limbs sprawled out pathetically, chest heaving exhaustedly, face glistening with sweat and flushed bright pink, tickled with a few remaining particles of the golden irritant. His hair was more wild than usual, a few tendrils in the front clung to his face from the sweat. He looked so… good… That was all you could think as you weakly laid there and looked up at the man through your damp eyelashes. 

Your pink cheeks felt like they were on fire. There was an all consuming heat that burned you inside out. You felt beyond intoxicated. Your clothes clung to your sticky, sweaty body. All you wanted to do was rip your clothes off, to get some kind of relief from this dreadful heat. “Doctor…” You cried out to him from the floor. He would know how to fix this.  Whatever this was. You tried to stand up, your legs trembled and you almost fell back down on the way up.

“Y/N…” The Time Lord grunted as he shot out his palm to you, gesturing for you to stay away. He started to remove his overcoat and unbutton his dress shirt, desperate to cool off. “Don’t… don’t come any closer.” His voice was tired and hoarse from the violent coughing fit from earlier. “Doctor… please… What do I do?” You cried out helplessly again, slowly stumbling towards him despite his orders. You tugged at your shirt that was sticking to you.

The Doctor tried his best to be a gentleman and avert his gaze to anything else but he just couldn’t. Your shirt was drenched in your sweat, making it nearly completely see through and revealing the neon pink bra you wore. There was a deep ache he felt between his legs. “Doctor please…” You whined again. “I’m so hot.” You crumpled to the ground just a few feet in front of him. 

All the Doctor could do was just stare. But he wanted nothing more than to help you. You were his companion. He cared about you. He hated seeing you in so much distress like this. He needed to help you.

“T-take off your clothes…” He panted. Your head shot up at him and you quickly nodded. You wasted no time in ripping off your wet shirt and discarding it thoughtlessly. If it would rid you of this mind numbing heat, you would do anything he said. You sat up on your knees and hurriedly attempted to undo your jeans. Your shaky hands foolishly fumbled with the button. You gasped as your eyes caught the Doctor’s hands skillfully working on his own buttons of his white undershirt. His hands were so much larger than your own…Your mind started to wander off to the thought of what his fingers would feel like on you. In you. You felt a strong twinge between your thighs. You swiftly yanked down your jeans and the fire that took over your body was finally starting to extinguish just the tiniest bit. You sighed in relief and collapsed onto the Doctor, drunkenly throwing your arms around his bare shoulders. You felt sparks on your damp skin when it made contact with his. It still wasn’t near enough though.

All the Doctor could feel was your bra clad breasts squishing against his flushed jaw, and his trousers tightening. He knew exactly what this was. He knew from the moment he saw the deceitfully beautiful flower. He knew exactly what was happening. He knew exactly how much time you had until all hell broke loose. He knew exactly what the only antidote was. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do this to his best friend. It wasn’t professional and it broke all his codes. But the heat between his legs was only growing stronger and stronger. And he knew it was only a matter of time before he wouldn’t be able to control it any longer. 

The man gently pushed you off of him and anxiously but firmly placed his hands on your shoulders. The contact made your shoulders feel like they had just been struck by lightning. “Y/N…” He gulped as he looked into your dilated eyes. “That pollen that we got sprayed with… It was… an aphrodisiac.” His tone was low, a tone you’ve never heard come from him before. A tone that rumbled throughout your skeleton and deep into your core. “Y/N do you understand me?” Your eyes were glazed over, lids heavy. “Doctor…” You whispered, staring at his perfect plush lips. Your eyes traveled down to his exposed torso. His skin looked so soft. There was a faint red patch between his pectorals from the warmth. You wanted so badly to just glide your fingers over it. Kiss it. Taste his salty, sweaty heat on your lips, tongue. “The native race sometimes uses it to help with m-mating rituals…” His voice was urgent, anxious. Just the word ‘mating’ made you pitifully clench on nothing. You felt so empty. You needed so badly to be filled. “The side effects can include dizziness, intense hot flashes and…” You stared up at him, lips parted and eyes dilated with want. No. Need. “Intense sexual desire.” 

Your tits were threatening to burst out of your bra with every heavy breath you heaved. Your chest was glistening with sweat. The Doctor’s eyes traveled down to your panties that had a wet stain soaked through right where your clit would be. His breath caught in his throat at the sight. His throbbing dick was so hard and all he wanted was to be buried deep inside you. Put a baby in you. “Y/N…” He sighed quietly. 

His hot breath was centimeters away from your face. You hastily closed the gap and kissed his lips feverishly. The growing desire between your thighs was taking over you. You needed relief. There was nothing else that occupied your mind other than him. His fingers. His lips. His tongue. His body. His dick. You pushed him down onto his back and straddled his lap, deepening the passionate kiss with your tongue. The Doctor gasped into your mouth and fought back with his own tongue. There was spit pooling at both of your mouths but it only made you kiss him harder. You felt like you would die if you didn’t have him inside you right now. 

Your hands extended down between you and him to quickly take off his slacks and discard them without breaking the animalistic kiss. His large hands reached behind your back to unclasp the hooks of your pink bra. “Need you,” He breathed into your mouth. Your tits sprung out almost cartoonishly after your bra was removed. “Need to make these get even fuller.” He wasted no time grabbing at your boobs and gently tweaking and massaging the nipples, making you moan and writhe. You grabbed at his brown locks, tugging hard which made him jump and whine loudly. It was a pathetic, squeaky sound coming from a man such as him. It only made you wetter. With his slacks off, you could better feel his twitching bulge beneath you. You shifted your hips, grinding his aching erection against your throbbing clit. You sucked at his neck and grinded harder. The both of you moaned loudly. “It's not enough,” He panted, eyes shut tight and hands gripping your hips. You couldn’t agree more. “Fuck, I need you darling.” He growled. 

His hand snaked down between the two of you to push down his briefs and pull out his rigid cock. You didn’t have time to gawk at the size of him because he was already urgently pushing your panties to the side and lining his dick up with your soaked cunt. He teased your clit with the tip and threw his head back at just the mere touch. “Fuck, there’s no time for that.” You panted as you swiftly grabbed his dick and sat on it. You both watched the obscene view of your drenched pussy slowly swallowing his stiff pink cock. You leaned in towards his handsome face as you grabbed the sides of his cheeks, both of you moaning in pleasure. The Doctor’s jaw hung open in a heavenly expression you swore would make you cum right there. Your body tensed up as he finally slid all the way in you. You finally felt so full. 

“Shi-” The Doctor exclaimed as you started bouncing on his dick. “I need you- Fuck- I need you.” He kept chanting over and over underneath you as you desperately rode him. You moaned in ecstasy and threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut, holding his hands tightly on either side of his head as if you were about to collapse if you didn’t hold onto him. “Your pussy-” He gasped. “‘Squeezing me so tight… Fuck- You got me so close already,” He admitted, too intoxicated with the pollen to be embarrassed that he was already nearing the edge. You rode him harder, faster, deeper. His length kissing parts of you so deep you didn’t even know existed. Your heart was banging wildly against your chest. There was only one thought that equally took over both of your minds.

The Doctor gasped harshly and gripped your hips so tight that your eyes shot open at him. “Need to- fuck- fill you up.” He groaned. Your pussy tightened around him at his words and the man grabbed the back of your hair, pushing you down closer to his face. His lower abdomen was rubbing against your clit oh so right with every thrust making you squeak with intense pleasure. “Oh fuck!” He moaned loudly into your mouth as he felt his balls tighten. He held you tightly and lovingly as he frantically bucked his hips into your pussy. The base of his cock was dripping with your abundant amount of slick, sliding against your sensitive clit over and over. You whined as your walls clamped down on his cock. The man couldn’t even form a word, he just let out a loud moan as his thrusts into you got more and more erratic and desperate. Your mind could only focus on the sole thought of milking his cock dry and suddenly you were on the verge of cumming. The Doctor was already dangerously close, but as soon as he felt your body tense up, and your walls pulsing around him, he pushed you closer against him and tightened the grip on your ass. Your orgasm took over your body. Intense waves of ecstasy washing over you making you cry out. The Doctor groaned out. Your cunt spasmed around the man’s cock as he shot large hot ropes of cum deep inside your pussy. His hips finally started sputtering but more cum just kept filling you up. 

You fell limp against his broad chest as you struggled to catch your breath. The time lord’s hips slowly halted to a stop, his moans turning into sensitive whimpers as your pussy still spasmed around his spent cock. You laid on top of him, his cock still inside you, panting heavy. You hugged each other close, and gently stroked each other’s hair.

“I feel better.” You finally said after some time of just recovering and resting on top of him. The fire within the both of you was finally extinguished. The once thick and humid air of the Tardis suddenly felt so much cooler and crisp. The Doctor looked at you adoringly and smiled, “Me too.”

[justsomerandomfanfic]

The Perfect Paradox - Tenth Doctor X Female Reader

Title: The Perfect Paradox

Tenth Doctor X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother mentioned, neighbors, Susan Johnson (OC), town Elders, TARDIS, Rose (Mentioned),

WC: 8,003

Warnings: Reader wears a dress/skirt, nicknames, marriage, 50s women stereotypes/misogyny mentioned, 50s-themed clothing, italics, yelling, gaslighting, slight mental breakdown?, italics for a flashback, teasing, banter, brainwashing, be prepared to run, protective Doctor, Doctor's trauma mentioned briefly (Rose), slight angst, and fluff

Your melodic humming filled the kitchen as you stood by the stove, stirring scrambled eggs around on the frying pan. The bright morning sun shined through your windows and past your white lace curtains, enveloping the kitchen in a warm golden glow. Sizing the scrambled eggs up - assuming they were done - you reached over to turn off the stove. 

Brushing down the skirt of your blue, fit-and-flare dress, you walked over to the coffee maker, grabbing your two mugs from the cupboard - one Prussian Blue, and the other a simple brown - you poured the steaming coffee into both of them. Leaning over the counter slightly, one foot lifting in the process, you opened the small glass jar of sugar cubs. Dropping two in one of the mugs, you grabbed a small spoon and stirred the sugar into the hot liquid. 

You decided to not take a sip - fearing that you might burn your tongue - so you quickly turned back to the eggs on the stove. Grabbing one of the two plates from beside you on the counter, you began to plate the scrambled eggs, continuing to hum as you heard the toast pop up in the toaster. Grabbing the pair of freshly made toast from the toaster, you began to spread butter upon both of them, before setting them down on the plates beside the eggs. Picking up one of the plates, fork in hand, your husband came in through the kitchen doorway. Right on time.

Dressed in a neatly pressed, dark blue suit with red pinstripes, he straightened his herringboned burgundy tie with a mauve flora design. His white button-up underneath was wrinkle-free from when you ironed it the night before. Your husband looked handsome, as always. You dreamily sighed mentally. You had always considered him a handsome bloke in a tight suit with amazing hair. And speaking of his brown hair - the soft strands usually stuck out everywhere, especially in the early mornings - was gelled to the side. His sideburns were prominent, one of your favorite physically attractive things about your man. All ready for work.

As he spotted the brown coffee mug on the counter, he gave you a glance, his smile growing as he winked in thanks. You mentally sighed once more. You always found yourself staring at his dark chocolate eyes - even when he wasn’t looking. 

As he took a drink from his coffee, his eyes landed on the plate of eggs and toast you were holding for him, and he let out a hum; setting the coffee mug down. "Oh, I'm sorry, darling, but I am really running late." He spoke, grabbing the briefcase from off the dining table. His Estuary English accent sounded beautiful every morning, and night; just all the time really. 

You only smiled, shaking your head lightly, "No, it's alright." You sat the plate down just as he made his way over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek in a farewell; his tall, lean statue towering over you. "Have a good day, honey."

"You too, dear." He replied, grabbing his long, light brown overcoat and tossing it over his arm, he turned halfway out the door, giving you one last grin before leaving for work. You wished your husband wasn't running late, giving him time to eat, but those times weren’t often, seeing how busy he is with being an internationally renowned neurosurgeon and all. Your mother had always wanted you to marry a Doctor.

Letting out a small content sigh, you began to wrap up your husband's breakfast in some saran wrap, before placing it in the fridge. You then ate and got ready for the day. Taking the rollers out of your hair, you made sure you looked presentable enough to go out and about. Looking out the window, you admired how nice it looked outside; you decided that it would be nice to go for a small walk.

Grabbing your purse, you slipped on your short, white gloves, and matching hat. Making sure you had everything you needed, you grabbed your house keys and left. 

There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sun shone brightly, warming your skin. Passing house after house in the wonderful suburbs you and your husband lived in, you continued to smile. The streets were clean - as were the sidewalks and people's yards; freshly mowed. Colorful flowers were planted at each home, composed of roses, tulips, and marigolds. Your home also had a lovely little garden in the front yard, where you raised your pretty pink roses. They were your joy. 

Shady Grove was a small town in practically the middle of nowhere. All the houses were very similar and matched in color, size, and shape. Every yard - as said before - had gardens, perfectly planted, near the large front windows of the homes. White picket fences lined each property line, separating each house from the other. The wives made breakfast in the mornings while their husbands got ready for work. And after saying goodbye to their wives, they would leave for work. 

Everything in Shady Grove operated with perfect precision. The same type and brand of cars left their driveways at the same time each day, their engines starting in perfect unison. The children, neatly dressed in their school uniforms, marched to the bus stop, their laughter bright. The air was filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming roses, as if someone had bottled the essence of suburban bliss and sprayed it all over the town.

You loved Shady Grove with its tidy streets and friendly neighbors. The community events organized by the Women's Association were always a highlight, bringing everyone together for picnics and bake sales. The local library, with its rows of perfectly shelved books, was your sanctuary on Saturdays - a place where you felt at peace among the orderly rows of shelves. To you, Shady Grove was simply the epitome of suburban paradise, and you cherished every moment spent within its meticulously maintained borders. 

Spotting a few blue birds, you watched them fly with a smile, hearing their little chirps. Your eyes then landed on the high grassy hills outside the town. Your eyes immediately spotted something in the distance, but before you could even think further, you remembered that you were planning on making a strawberry milk pie. You loved pie, and it was one of your husband’s favorites. Your neighbor, Susan Johnson, was dropping off some of her fresh home-grown strawberries the very next day. The market was just around the corner, so you decided to get some milk and eggs to prepare for the baking.

~~~

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you hummed softly to yourself in the kitchen. You chopped vegetables with practiced ease, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filling the air. The aroma of roasting chicken wafted through the house, mingling with the comforting scent of herbs and spices. It was your husband's favorite dish, and you took pride in preparing it just the way he liked it.

When you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening, you smiled to yourself; continuing to cook. "Honey, I'm home!" He called, making you giggle.

"Welcome home." You called, before finishing dinner. You were almost done.

"Is dinner almost ready, dear?" You heard your husband's voice, knowing him to be in the dining room. 

Opening the Dutch oven, you smiled as the scent of the delicious food wafted out, the aroma making your mouth water. A large plate full of roasted vegetables sat on the counter before you. Turning the heat off, you began to make both you and your husband a plate. "Yes, honey," You called back to him, "Just one moment." Heading to the dining room, you placed your husband's plate down in front of him, making him look away from his newspaper; setting it down on the table beside his food.

"This looks delicious, darling," He complimented, slipping off his dark brown, acetate frames, before beginning to dig in.

Sitting down at the end of the table, you grabbed the pastel yellow cotton napkin from the table, opened it, and placed it on your lap. Shuffling slightly in your seat, you got ready to eat, cutting into the meat with your fork and knife, "Is it to your liking?" You asked, glancing up at him, and taking a bite of the food.

Nodding, he spoke, "It is perfect, my darling," 

You smiled, watching as he enjoyed his meal, a sense of contentment washed over you. You loved these simple moments of domesticity, where the outside world seemed to fade away. "Well, how was your day, honey?"

Your husband cleared his throat, "It was quite a day, dear. I spent most of my time in the operating room." He began, pausing to sip at his water before continuing, "We had a particularly challenging case involving a brain tumor, but I'm pleased to say it went well." You nodded along, fully engaged in his words, "After the surgeries, I attended a meeting discussing new techniques we're hoping to implement soon. It's exhausting, but fulfilling work." He finished, looking up from his food, "Oh, how was your day today, dear?" He asked, as if remembering, but you hadn't noticed.

Your hand froze holding your fork mid-air at his question before you placed it back on your plate, "Oh, it was great, honey. I got groceries from the market, and I also cleaned up around the house and did some laundry."

Your husband paused, looking up at you slowly, "Nothing... Odd happened today?" His gaze was intense; questioning.

You continued to smile, though confused, you shook your head, "No, I don't recall anything odd happening today." Your smile then dropped as a question popped up in your head, blinking your eyes owlishly, "I didn't miss anything important today, did I?"

"No," Your husband spoke, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

"Oh!" You exclaimed as you remembered something, your husband's head shooting up at your exclamation, "I saw that there was a deal on that type of pork that you like, so I bought it for a future dish."

At your response, his shoulders dropped and he breathed out of his nose. Finishing his dinner, and patting the side of his lips, he grabbed the newspaper once more, "That's nice, dear," He spoke, his voice sounding slightly muffled behind the newspaper. "Some dessert would be nice."

"Dessert, absolutely," You quickly dabbed the corners of your own lips before standing. Grabbing your empty plate and his, you headed to the kitchen to fetch your loving and doting husband some well-deserved ice cream; he had such a long and hard day.

~~~

The next morning, you and your husband woke up bright and early; as you both did every morning. Dressing in a sunflower yellow fit-and-flare dress, you carefully made sure the rollers in your hair were still in place before getting ready for the day. It was the weekend, so your husband was thankfully staying home with you and keeping you company. Though, you did have a few plans for the day. Susan was coming over to drop those strawberries off, and you were planning to go to the library before coming home to make dinner and two strawberry milk pies - along with any house duties that needed to be done. 

Making sure you looked presentable, you began cleaning. As your husband read in his La-Z-Boy recliner, a cup of steaming coffee beside him on the coffee table - made just how he liked it - you were mopping the kitchen floors. The scent of lemon-scented cleaner filled the air, mingling with the aroma of brewing coffee. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the freshly polished countertops.

As you finished in the kitchen, you turned your attention to dusting the shelves in the living room. Everything had to be just right for Susan's visit later. You straightened the neatly arranged books on the shelves, occasionally pausing to glance at your husband, immersed in his book with an unreadable expression.

"Would you like another cup of coffee, honey?" You asked, breaking the quiet concentration that filled the room.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a faint smile. "No, thank you, dear. I'm fine for now," He replied, returning his attention to his book.

You nodded and continued with your tasks, the rhythmic swish of the feather duster against the bookshelves becoming a comforting background noise. But at the sound of the doorbell, you turned towards the noise, your content smile widening. "That must be Susan with the strawberries." You spoke, before heading to the door. 

Stashing your feather duster away, you brushed your skirt down with both hands before letting out a sigh. Reaching out, you opened the door, though, at the sight of the man outside your door, your smile faltered slightly; though, it didn't vanish.

The man in front of you let out a sigh of what seemed like a sigh of relief, a bright smile appearing on his face, "Finally! I found you! I've probably checked every house on this block looking for you. Are you alright? We have to go." He reached out to grab your arm but you stepped back, now majorly confused.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Found me? What- Uh," You asked, stuttering, confused, but you recomposed yourself, "May I help you, sir?" 

This man before you went to speak, but ultimately shut his mouth. And then he just stared at you, his own eyebrows furrowed, his dark brown eyes seemingly analyzing you. It was intense. His eyes then broke from yours and glanced around wildly to the side and behind you before looking back at you, "It's me, the Doctor," He gestured to himself, but upon receiving no reply - confusion still in your eyes - his tone dropped, "You have to remember me." His voice is low, and deep, but you remained silent; a shiver ran through you from his intense stare, your cheeks feeling warm. 

You also took this time to observe him. His hair was brown, strands sticking up in odd angles like he had just gotten out of bed. His eyes were brown, like dark chocolate. He was tall, and lanky, wearing the very same attire your husband would wear to work. A thought buzzed in the back of your mind as you eyed his sideburns... 

'He looks a lot like my husband.'

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't recognize you." You began, seeing something flash in his eyes as he ran a frustrated - almost angry - hand through his hair, "Do you work with my husband?"

Before he could speak though, your husband's voice caught your attention, "Who's at the door, dear?"

Turning, your smile widened at his presence, watching him enter the entryway. Your smile faltered slightly upon seeing your husband's frown. "This gentleman said that he was a doctor." You spoke to him, "Is he one of your colleagues?"

Your husband doesn't answer, coming up beside you, his hand coming up to press against your lower back. "Why don't you vacuum the living room, dear? You did mention that you wanted to clean the floor earlier." Your husband spoke, and you gave him a bright smile, nodding.

"Yes, honey." You spoke as your husband went to stand by the stranger at your door, his hand on the doorknob to shut the door behind him, wanting a private conversation with the man outside. Heading to the living room, just as the front door began to shut, it stopped suddenly. 

"Y/N!" You heard the stranger call for you, making you turn, seeing him holding the door open as your husband visibly glared at him. Your husband was trying to close the door, but the stranger was preventing him. The look on the stranger's face was a look of total determined desperation. For some reason, you felt that whatever he was going to say was urgent. Pushing against the strength of your husband, he grunted lightly before speaking; his dark eyes bore into yours, "When did you get married!?"

At those words, he was overpowered and the door slammed shut. The sound reverberated in your mind, echoing as you found yourself frozen to where you stood. You stared at the door, before you moved your hand up, your eyes meeting the glimmering ring on your ring finger. 

'When did you get married!?'

'When did I get married?'

Your mind felt suddenly blank, fuzzy even. You tried to recall the details of your wedding day, but the memories remained elusive, obscured behind a fog. You shut your eyes tight and rubbed your temples, hoping to coax out fragments of recollection, but all you could grasp were fleeting glimpses: the scent of roses in the air, the warmth of sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows, and the faces of smiling guests.

Opening your eyes, you looked around the living room. If you had gotten married, wouldn't there be pictures? Searching the walls, you passed each one, trying to find something - anything - that would confirm your wedding day. Each frame held snapshots of idyllic moments: vacations, family gatherings, and smiling faces captured in time. 

"No wedding photos," You muttered, your voice barely audible as a knot tightened in your stomach. It was as if the most significant day of your life had been erased, replaced by an unsettling void that threatened to swallow you whole. But you kept searching - from the dining room, kitchen, hallways, bathroom, and bedroom - yet, you found nothing. You even searched the closets for your dress, but even that too was missing. Finding yourself back in the living room, you heard the front door open. You could feel your husband's presence behind you, and you let out a shaky breath, "How come we don't have any pictures of our wedding?" You asked, not bothering to turn around.

"You didn't want any," He spoke, and that made you turn, your eyes holding so much confusion. He looked down at you, continuing, "Don't you remember? You didn't want us to waste our money on all that film or to hire someone to take them. That's why we didn't get any." He explained.

"I did that?" You asked, doubting yourself but more questions began popping up in your head, and before you could even stop yourself, you were speaking; "How long have we been married?"

Your husband let out a laugh as if what you had said was stupid, "Seven years," He replied, causing you to blink, "What do you mean how long have we been married?" Your husband shook his head, his hand rising to stroke your back, "It's nothing, darling. Just forget it, alright?"

“What about my dress? My wedding dress, where is it?” You asked, your finger twisting your wedding band around your finger; fidgeting.

“You donated it,” He answered, “Please, dear, this is silly-”

"Why did he look so much like you?" You ignored him, his usually comforting and welcomed touch burning you, you quickly slipped out of his hold, staring up at him with wide eyes as if he had grown a second head. "Who was he?"

He blinked at you before letting out an almost awkward chuckle, shaking his head, "Just a friend from work, really, this is nothing you need to be so worked up about. Isn't Susan coming by soon?" He tried to again divert the conversation, but you weren't having it.

"No! Something's not right here!" You exclaimed, gesturing around you wildly, "How come I can't remember my wedding? Which is supposed to be the happiest day of my life! And why don't we have any evidence of a wedding, except rings? Not even my dress! How come I don't know when we married, when you proposed, or how I even met you?" You then gestured to the front door, "And why the hell does he show up at the door claiming to know me? And why the hell does he look so much like you!? He had the same hair and the same suit! Th-the same eyes!" You paused, your chest heaving with emotion as you awaited his response. Your husband’s expression shifted subtly, a flicker of unease crossing his features before he composed himself.

"Darling, I think you’re overreacting," He said gently, his voice soothing yet tinged with an edge of caution. "You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. It’s understandable that you might feel confused."

You shook your head vehemently, your mind racing with unanswered questions. "I'm not overreacting!" You insisted, your voice rising despite your efforts to remain calm. "There are too many things that don't add up, too many gaps in my memory. Important things missing. What is going on!?” You felt like you were having an anxiety attack, “I feel like I am going crazy.”

Your husband sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he regarded you with a mixture of concern and frustration. "Darling, please," He implored, reaching out as if to touch your arm. "Let's not do this now. Susan will be here soon, and-"

"No!" You interrupted, stepping back to avoid his touch. "I need answers.” He hesitated, his gaze flickering towards the doorway where Susan's impending arrival seemed to be his only lifeline. You began to pace the floor, biting on your thumb nail as you stared down at the floor, concentrating; "I don't remember- There are too many gaps... He looks just like you... The same eyes... Oh, god, his eyes..." You continued to pace until you stopped. "He knew my name. He said my name." You realized, slowly looking up at your supposed husband, "What's my name?"

He scoffed out a laugh - as if what you said again was ridiculous, "I know your name, darling, we're husband and wife."

"Yeah, you say that, but for however long I've been with you, you've only called me 'dear,' or 'darling.'" You took a step towards him, "What's my name?" His laughter grated against your fraying nerves, his dismissive tone fueling the fire under you. Yet, you stood your ground, refusing to back down despite the uncertainty gnawing at your core. "What's my name?" You repeated, your voice steady but laced with desperation. "Tell me my name."

Your husband’s face faltered, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet the weight of your gaze. Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken truths and the gravity of the situation unraveling before you both. "I..." He began, his voice wavering, but instead of answering, he looked away, his jaw clenched

"He knew my name," You murmured, a chill running down your spine as the pieces fell into place. "He called me by my name." The realization hit you like a tidal wave, washing away the illusions that had ensnared your mind for too long. You weren't the doting and compliant wife of your husband in Shady Grove. You were Y/N, a companion of the Doctor; a traveler of galaxies. 

~~~

Leaning against the console of the TARDIS, you tried to keep still - rocking on the balls of your feet - but you were excited to see where the Doctor was taking you next. You watched as he whizzed around the circular console, pulling levers and flipping switches. 

"Where are we going today, Doctor?" You asked, unable to stop a small smile from growing on your face as Doctor flipped the final switch, the TARDIS hummed loudly, and the lights flashed for a split second.

"We, my dear companion, are going to Xephus." He exclaimed, looking over at you, "I stumbled upon it a couple of decades ago. Lovely place, nice people."  

The Doctor started talking about the planet and its history. How it was a beautiful planet with lots of trees, animals, water, and so much food it would be impossible to eat it all. He continued talking about the beauty of the place and how it was similar to Earth. You admired him as he ranted, watching as the different expressions crossed his face; passion and excitement sparkled in his eyes at the mere thought of showing you another spectacular planet. 

It was hard not to admire him. The way he spoke, the boundless enthusiasm he had for every discovery, every hidden corner of the universe. You'd been traveling with the Doctor for what felt like a lifetime, each journey only deepening your affection for him. At first, you told yourself it was just admiration, pure and simple - respect for his intelligence, bravery, and endless curiosity - his overall zest for life. But, the admiration had developed into something deeper, something you were hesitant to acknowledge fully in the beginning.

But you accepted that you had feelings for him a long time ago. More specifically when he took you to a planet called 'Blimszarys.' It was a quiet, unspoken truth that had made its way into your heart, a warmth that spread through you whenever he smiled or took your hand as you ran from danger.

You came to terms with it, embracing the reality of your feelings without expecting anything in return. The Doctor was a being of infinite complexity, and you were just one of many companions who had shared in his extraordinary life. The thought of burdening him with your feelings felt selfish and unnecessary. He had enough weight on his shoulders.

Besides, being by his side was enough for you.

"Y/N," His voice broke you out of whatever trance you had been trapped within, seeing his eyebrows furrowed, and dark eyes staring down at you; confused. "Was I boring you?" He asked with a chuckle, and you quickly shook your head, feeling your cheeks flush from embarrassment.

"No! Of course not, Doctor. You could never bore me," You insisted, turning to fully look at him, "I'm sorry, there's just a lot on my mind right now." You gave him a reassuring smile, but the concern on his face still lingered. 

"Are you alright?" He then asked, "If you're not feeling well, we don't have to go. You humans and your human diseases, you never take care of yourselves properly." He huffed with faux indignantly, shaking his finger in your direction as he walked around the console.

"Hey, us humans certainly try," You protested, chuckling softly, following him around the console, meeting him by his side, "I am perfectly fine though. I'm not getting sick or anything. I just have a lot on my mind right now." 'You’re on my mind. You’re always on my mind.' You thought as the Doctor stared down at you, his gaze intense as they were whenever he was deep in thought. You just looked right back at him, a smile on your face, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

With a huff, seemingly accepting your answer, that brilliant smile of his returned and he threw an arm over your shoulders; bringing you to his side. "Alright right then! To Xephus! Allons-y!"

~~~

You remembered appearing on Xephus, feeling pretty excited to see the planet that the Doctor had discovered decades ago, and spoke so fondly of. You remembered leaving with the Doctor - hand-in-hand - as you both traveled through a large field of flowers, towards the town in the distance. You then remembered going off to wander the town on your own. At some point in your wandering, you remembered seeing glimpses of people in dark cloaks. You remember the feeling of their hands on your arms, the fear coursing through you as you tried to call out for the Doctor.

You didn't know what they did to brainwash you, and you weren't going to stay for anyone to try and brainwash you again. Staring at the man before you, he stared right back, but before he could do or say anything, you bolted. Running out of the room and out the front door, you stumbled down the walkway, past the sidewalk, and onto the street. Your breathing was heavy, your chest rising and falling as your eyes frantically searched around you. 

"Stop her!" You heard the man, who paraded around as your husband, your head whipping around to see him rushing towards you. Eyes wide, you continued to run, passing house after house; seeing men leaving their homes to chase you as well. Your labored breathing and your quick-beating heart echoed and pulsed in your ears as you passed the market; housewives, dressed in their fifties-themed attire, looked at you through the large windows oddly before going back to their shopping. Turning down another street, you frantically searched for any sign of the Doctor, weaving past an oncoming car - narrowingly missing it - as you frantically looked around for the Doctor.

Passing through two buildings - a barber shop and a diner - you pressed your back against the wall, trying to control your breathing as you quickly chucked off your heels. "She's over here!" You heard another voice yell, and you booked it. Running in between the two buildings, it spat you back out onto another street. You didn't look back, hearing the pounding of feet behind you. The large group of men - dressed in their suits and ties - were chasing after you; in reality, all of them were manipulating husbands. 

You ran until you reached another street lined with shops; only to then feel someone grab your arm and pull you into an alley. You were whipped around, your back pressing up against the brick wall of the apothecary shop. Regaining your bearings, you quickly recognized the hands that were wrapped around your upper arms. You knew those long and long and slender hands anywhere. His grip was a mix of gentleness and intensity; the warmth of them seeping into your skin soothingly. Looking up, you sighed - tears of relief burning the backs of your eyes. 

"Doctor, I-"

"Are you alright?" He interrupted, his voice gentle but urgent - his words came out quickly, yet clearly - though breathless from running and hiding; searching for you. Your well-being was his top priority. He waited for your response, his wide, dark chocolate brown eyes flickering over your face, before searching your eyes; looking for any signs of injury or distress. His furrowed eyebrows softened as he confirmed to himself that you were unharmed. If anything were to happen you...

"I'm okay," You spoke softly, still trying to calm your racing heart, "I'm okay," You repeated, your hands coming up to grab the edges of his light brown overcoat. “Right when I remembered, I ran for the hills.”

The Doctor let out a breath of relief. His hands fell from your arms, cupping your cheeks. Already looming over you, he bent towards you, shutting his eyes, and pressing his forehead against yours. Your own eyes fluttered shut, your grip on his overcoat tightening. The Doctor, internally, felt a pang of guilt rush over him. If only he stayed by your side. If only he kept an eye on you... This wouldn't have happened. 

His protectiveness was fierce. Every instinct screamed to keep you safe, to ensure that no harm would ever come your way under his watch. The very thought of you being hurt stirred a deep-seated fear within him, a fear that fueled his relentless vigilance.

"Stay close to me," He whispered, his voice a blend of tenderness and steely determination. His hands, warm and reassuring, remained on your cheeks as if anchoring you to him; as if he was reassuring himself that you were truly safe. That you were there with him, next to him, alive and in one piece.

At that moment, with his forehead pressed against yours and his breath mingling with your own, you knew the Doctor would fight against the universe itself just to keep you safe, and as you stood there in his arms, you knew that you were more than just a companion - you were someone he cared for deeply, someone he would protect with every fiber of his being.

"I don't think we can talk or charm our way out of this one." You softly spoke, opening your eyes as he pulled away; his eyes meeting yours. Suddenly, a loud piercing siren began to blare, startling both you and the Doctor; it sounded like an earthquake siren. "They have sirens!?"

"Nifty, huh?" The Doctor spoke, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity, "It's probably for those who try to escape."

"What are we going to do?" You asked, cupping your hands to your ears

Seemingly going back to his usual self, an idea formed in his mind. "Oh, you know, the usual." He spoke, flashing you a quick, mischievous grin. "Run like mad, avoid getting caught, and come up with a brilliant plan on the fly." You couldn't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm. 

"Sounds good to me, just as long as we get out of here together," You spoke, and the Doctor grinned, taking one of your hands in his.

"Right then," He said, his eyes sparkling with renewed determination. "Allons-y!" He ducked his head out of the alleyway, peering left and right before leading you through an empty street, his pace quick and purposeful. As you ran, despite the chaos, the terrible siren went off. He thrived in these moments, where quick thinking and daring moves were essential. Finally, you reached the TARDIS, the blue box standing tall and resilient on the field outside of the town. The Doctor pulled out his key, the door swinging open just as your pursuers came bounding up the hill of the green field. "In we go!" He urged, practically pushing you inside before slamming the door shut behind him. He immediately began flipping switches and pulling levers, the TARDIS roaring to life. As the familiar wheezing and groaning filled the air, you leaned against the console, catching your breath. The Doctor, now back in his element, looked at you with a triumphant smile. "See? Piece of cake."

You laughed, the tension of the past moments finally melting away. "You're impossible," You said, shaking your head.

"And you love it," He replied with a wink, his hands still busy at the controls.

You felt an immense warmth fill you, engulfing you, and making your heart skip a beat as you smiled. You suddenly closed the distance between you and the Doctor, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment in surprise before relaxing, his arms encircling you in return.

"Thank you," You whispered against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "For getting me out of there."

The Doctor's hold tightened slightly, his head resting gently against yours. "Always," He murmured softly, the single word carrying so much weight behind it. And at the feeling of his soft kiss on the top of your head, you held him tighter, wanting to convey everything that was rushing through your mind at that moment.

Letting go reluctantly, you gave him a small - yet, almost shy - smile. "I'm going to change, and get these rollers out of my hair." You spoke, "I'll be right back." 

The Doctor watched you go, a small fond smile slipping onto his face. Watching as you headed towards your room that the TARDIS gave you. 

~~~

Sitting at the open doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor watched the death of a few stars. As he waited for you to return, he thought back to Xephus. The guilt of losing sight of you still gnawed at him. If only... No, he couldn't allow himself to dwell on what-ifs.

When you had both split up, he found himself wandering around town, near the shops. Xephus was completely different than it was when he first visited it decades ago. He remembered the planet to be like Earth, with Earth-like food, plants, animals, and people who lived there. But, instead of cottages, there was a town full of suburban homes, barber shops, and markets. Your words played out in his mind, 'It's like stepping into the nineteen-fifties.' For some reason, the Doctor had a bad feeling in his gut. 

Before he knew it, he couldn't find you, and the 'Elders' of the town of Shady Grove had taken him to their underground facility underneath the suburban houses. The Doctor stood in the dimly lit room, his eyes fixated on the screen displaying you, a shadow of your former self, dutifully fulfilling the role of a perfect housewife. His initial curiosity of why the planet had changed so much had given way to a burning anger, his normally lively features now etched with fury.

"Why would you do such a thing!?" He demanded, his voice echoing through the large room of metal walls and concrete floors. "What possible reason could you have for stripping away her identity, her memories, her life?"

The Elders, a group of stern-faced older men, exchanged glances before one of them stepped forward. His hair was graying, and his eyes were piercing. "We needed to create a harmonious society," The Elder explained, his tone measured and cold. "Individualism breeds chaos, and we have perfected a system where everyone has a role, a purpose. That was why Xephus has changed, Doctor. When you came here, we deemed your companion suitable for progressing our town. She was then chosen to be integrated into our community to maintain order and balance."

The Doctor's fists clenched at his sides, "Order and balance?" He echoed incredulously. "At the cost of her free will? Her autonomy? You have no right!"

The Elders remained unperturbed by the Doctor’s outburst. Another one stepped forward, his expression impassive. "Order and balance are paramount, Doctor," he stated calmly. "Without them, society would descend into chaos. Your companion’s integration was essential for the stability of Shady Grove."

The Doctor's fists tightened further, his knuckles turning white. He glanced back at the screen, his eyes narrowing as he observed the fake husband’s interactions with you. Jealousy tickled the edges of his mind, an unfamiliar and unwelcome emotion. Then, he noticed just how eerily similar the fake husband looked to him - his brown hair, sharp features, and charming demeanor. 

"Why does he look like me?" The Doctor demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The first Elder, the one with the piercing eyes, replied with a faint, knowing smile. "During the brainwashing process, we extracted your companion’s subconscious desires and ideals. We created a husband based on her ideal partner to make her transition smoother and the illusion more believable. It turns out, Doctor, that her ideal partner is you."

If the Doctor was shocked, he didn't show it. He turned back to the screen, watching as the fake husband leaned in to kiss your cheek, a gesture that sent a sharp pang through his hearts. It was a bitter irony; you had been taken from him and given a life that mirrored what you might have desired, but it was a cruel mockery of reality.

The Doctor felt a mix of emotions, though his anger reigned supreme. The intensity of his anger rolled off of him in waves. "You think you've created the perfect society," He seethed, his eyes narrowed slightly. "But you've only created a prison. And I will free it! You won't hurt her, or anyone else, ever again." He stood tall, his jaw tightening, and his eyes darkening, "Enjoy your illusion of control while it lasts," He spat. "Because I’m going to dismantle it, piece by piece."

In short, it took three days for him to escape the cell they tossed him in while at the underground facility. Thankfully, he had his sonic screwdriver. It was also surprisingly easy to destroy their brainwashing machines. He then navigated through the facility’s labyrinthine corridors, his thoughts were solely focused on one goal: reaching you. Emerging from the underground facility - for some reason popping out of the barber's shop - he took a moment to breathe in the cool night air, the stars above a stark contrast to the artificial confines below.

And well, he found you, and he had hoped - deep down - that upon seeing him everything would come back to you, but it hadn't. Then your 'husband' got in the way. But, as he was getting led back to the facility, he escaped and hid in a nearby alleyway. But you were safe, you were in the TARDIS, not brainwashed, or injured. You were safe. 

However, what the Elders had said and showed him was bubbling in his mind. The Elders said that they created your ideal partner to help you believe in your new life. And your ideal partner was him. The Doctor let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He had always known that you admired him, but this revelation was different. It forced him to confront feelings he had buried deep inside. Feelings he had for you.

The fear was still there, gnawing at him. He was scared because of what had happened with Rose. Losing her had been one of the most painful experiences of his long life. The thought of starting a relationship with you only to lose you in the end terrified him. He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. 

The sound of your footsteps drew him from his troubling thoughts, his gaze shifting from the stars and over his shoulder. You walked out of the hallway, dressed in your sweats. You ran a hand through your hair, free from the rollers; you had taken a shower. Spotting him, you smiled, walking over. The Doctor turned back to the stars as you sat down beside him. Letting your socked feet hang off the edge, you gently kicked them; your hands pressed at your side, palms against the grated floor. 

Turning your head, you observed the Doctor's side profile before speaking, "So, I have some questions," You spoke up, breaking the silence, and the Doctor turned, giving you a grin.

"What would you like to know?" He asked, and you huffed lightly, looking back at the stars.

"How long was I under their control?" You asked, a rough one right out the gate, but you had to know.

"Ah," The Doctor nodded his head, "Three days."

You snapped your head over to him, your eyes wide, "Three days?" You gasped. "It felt like forever. How did they make it seem so real?"

"Ah, well," He breathed out, "They manipulated your memories and created an environment that catered to your subconscious desires. Time felt different because they controlled every aspect of your perception." He spoke nonchalantly, masking his inner turmoil with his usual wit and calm demeanor. "I'm afraid they were quite crafty, those Elders. Manipulating time and memory like a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat," He answered with a wry smile, though his eyes betrayed a hint of self-disappointment.

You nodded slowly, absorbing his explanation while sensing the underlying tension in his voice. "It's incredible and terrifying at the same time," You murmured, your own emotions still raw from the ordeal. “Did you stop them? Whatever they were doing or using to brainwash people?”

“Of course,” He whipped out his sonic screwdriver, tossing it in the air and catching it, “They won’t hurt anyone again.”

You nodded, pleased, before you asked the last question on your mind, "What about him..." You began, feeling your face become warm as you glanced over at the Doctor, "Why did he look so eerily like you?"

The Doctor's smile softened, "Ah, that," He sighed, his gaze turning thoughtful. "Your ideal image of a companion, someone you'd trust implicitly, resembled me. I suppose they delved into your subconscious desires and found me lurking in there somewhere," He explained, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and melancholy. "It's unsettling, I know," He continued, "But they used that resemblance to make their charade more convincing. They wanted to create a seamless transition for you, to make you believe in this fabricated reality they'd constructed."

You let out a small chuckle, making the corners of the Doctor's lips twitch, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm laughing," You spoke, calming down to finish, "What a twisted version of reality."

"Yes, but you saw through it," He said, his eyes searching yours with admiration. "You broke free from their grip. That takes immense strength."

A faint flush warmed your cheeks as you met his gaze - his compliment practically turning you into mush. "Thank you." You shuffled, becoming slightly nervous under his gaze, your hand moving slightly, accidentally brushing against his, also pressed against the floor of the TARDIS.

The Doctor smiled warmly, "You're welcome," He glanced at your hands beside his, "And as for him," He added, his tone turning slightly playful, "Well, I suppose I should be flattered that your ideal partner bears such a striking resemblance to me."

"I do have impeccable taste," You teased, a playful glint in your eye as you met his gaze.

The Doctor chuckled softly, the sound like music in the quiet of the TARDIS. "Well, who wouldn't want an adventurer with two hearts?" 

"And that hair," You quipped, reaching up to tousle his hair playfully. "Definitely a plus."

Laughing in unison, you looked back out at the beautiful dying of stars, the bright colorful light reflecting off of your face and hair. The Doctor couldn't look away, captivated by the way the starlight danced across your features, illuminating your face with a soft, ethereal glow. He found himself mesmerized by the way your eyes sparkled with curiosity and intelligence, absorbing the vastness of the cosmos with wonder.

"You know," He murmured, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "I've seen countless stars and galaxies, but none of them compare to the way you shine in their light."

Eyes wide in surprise, you stared at him, mouth slightly agape. His words were sweet but unexpected. You were not expecting him to say that, in such a way. You were so used to his charm, wit, and sarcasm, and yes, he complimented you more often than not, but with the way that he was gazing at you... It was different. Again, the intensity. His words left your heart racing, the beat of your blood pounding loudly in your ears. Your fingers twitched, desperate to reach out and touch him but you stopped yourself. You didn't even know what to say. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse, your mind reeling with the weight of his admission. "Doctor," You finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know what to say."

He nodded slowly, his gaze gentle yet filled with an intensity that spoke volumes. "You don't have to say anything," He assured you, his hand reaching out tentatively to brush against yours. "I just needed you to know."

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers intertwining with his as you met his gaze. At that moment, surrounded by the majesty of the cosmos and bathed in the light of a thousand dying stars, uncertainty melted away. The Doctor's admission had laid bare his hearts, and in his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you. It reminded you of a song, oddly enough.

Unable to stop a giddy smile from appearing on your face, you let out a small giggle. "That is quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," You spoke softly, squeezing his hand.

The Doctor's cheeks flushed at your statement, unable to fight the smile on his lips. He was thankful that you hadn't let go of his hand; your touch was comforting, and his smile only widened as you shuffled closer to him. A soothing, bubbly warm feeling spread through his body as you then laid your head on his shoulder. His hand left yours before moving behind you, his arm enveloping you in his embrace. 

The sight of the stars dying, bursting into a kaleidoscope of colors, was breathtaking, but both of you knew they were insignificant compared to each other.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Doctor Who Masterlist

[shuichiakainx]

Happy Birthday David 🤧❤️

[comfortcalls]

Hope for Change - Tenth Doctor x Reader

characters: Tenth Doctor gn! reader (reader is not described physically) content: injury, comfort, abuse mention, abusive fathers wc. 3.2k (not beta read)

Change. That’s all you ever truly hoped for.

On all your adventures, you met the most amazing people (and creatures) and saw the most beautiful place beyond your imagination. And you were inspired; by the fight, the love, the care in the eyes of those you’ve met on your travels with the Doctor. You saw the change people were willing to make. They fought for change, for things to be better. Even the Doctor changed, just a little bit more each time he stepped out of the Tardis. 

You wanted that too. You hoped he could change too. 

But he didn’t. He never does. No matter how old you get, how far you move, how much you achieve, he never changes. Your father would always be cruel and hurtful. And you were stupid for hoping for something different.

Sitting down on your bed, you stared down at the drops of blood that stained your jeans. The trip back to your apartment was quiet. You were broken, there was no music or friends that could really cheer you up from this. So you just drove home in silence and slowly dragged yourself to your bedroom. And you’ve just been here, defeated. 

It was as if all the memories from your childhood came flooding in at once, overwhelming every part of you until it was so big that it left you feeling entirely frozen. All those years with conditioned fear and anxiety, trying again and again to be different. You thought if you changed enough, if you could change his mind; maybe, just maybe he’d love you the way you wanted. It didn’t matter what you did for this world or all the worlds out there, it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t do it. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to lift your head when you heard that wonderful whooshing sound of the Tardis landing in the corner of your room. He was always careful not to crush anything too important when he landed. He cared about you more than you could ever truly know, enough to even keep in mind not to park his Tardis on any of your plushies or books that had gotten tossed onto the floor. 

“You’ll never believe what I stumbled across!” His voice chimed through after that charming little squeak of the Tardis door opening.

 Normally, just his presence was enough to bring you out of any bad mood. Part of you wanted to perk up and hide this pain so he never saw you so low. You were good at keeping these parts of yourself hidden from everyone but the more you stared at those little stains on your jeans, the less strength you had to put up a front. 

The Doctor stepped out from the Tardis, holding some strange contraption he definitely pulled out of nowhere. “Well, you might believe it, I’m surprised you believe half the things I show you. Any-who, I was-” He began his usual rambles but when his eyes landed on you, he went quiet. 

He took in the sight of you sitting on the bed, eyes that seemed almost hollow. And he knew immediately. If anyone knew true sadness, it was the Doctor. Your nose had dried blood that stained your lip down to your chin, cheek swollen from what could only be from being slapped. Someone hurt you and he was going to find out who. 

“What happened?” he asked, his voice taking on a concerned tone to mask the anger he felt inside. He set down his odd little contraption as he took a few tentative steps towards you. His mind was running a million miles per minute coming up with a story that would explain your injuries. 

When you didn’t reply, The Doctor closed the distance to be in front of you. He looked over you, his chest feeling tighter, his hearts beating faster. He was already prepared to fight any battle for you, to keep you from any harm but he needed answers. And more importantly, he needed to comfort you. 

He bent down enough to meet your eyes, reaching a careful hand out to your cheek. His hand was warm and just a bit calloused but soft nonetheless. His eyes examined your face. He knew from just looking that a bruise would form and that you were hurting. He swallowed the tightness forming in his throat.

“Tell me what happened,” The Doctor said, forcing his tone to sound calm. His voice was almost stern but kind. His gaze intense as he searched for answers within your eyes. 

It was enough to make you speak up. Your eyes flickered down, never truly meeting him. “I...” you started but the words sat on your tongue. You swallowed the sad lump that had been sitting on the back of your throat. “I had to visit home.” The words came out low and hoarse. “I went back to see my parents.” 

His brows furrowed. It took a moment for the Doctor to process. How could that result in injuries like this? Who did you run into? What did you get yourself involved in? At first, he thought about maybe it was one of the countless enemies he had. Being with him meant you’d be a target, he knew that much. However, It didn’t take long for it to connect in his mind based on that sad look in your eyes and the small quiver in your lips.

“Your parents did this?” He whispered with disbelief, brushing his thumb over your swollen cheek as he tilted your face for him to get a better look at your bloodied nose. 

“My dad did.” You correct with a small sigh. You felt ashamed to tell him. You felt weak. The Doctor was so great, so brave and strong. He never allowed himself to be defeated, always trying to find a way and here you were, broken down by something so... small in comparison to what he had dealt with. You felt so small under his gaze, like you were disappointing him by allowing this to affect you. 

You let out a shaky breath. You looked into his brown eyes, your face twisting with embarrassment but more than anything, pain. Your eyes flickered back down, lowering your head in shame.“I was being stupid. He was upset because I-” 

“No,no, no.” The Doctor’s jaw set tight, having to manually control his breathing to stay calm. “There is no reason for a father, a man, anyone... to hurt someone like this.” he said quietly but firmly. He moved his other hand to cup your other cheek, guiding you to meet his gaze. “Don’t even say something like that. You were not being stupid.” 

You close your eyes, shaking your head. “No, but I was.” Your voice trembled under the weight of your guilt and humiliation. “...I thought-” Your eyes shut tighter, a shaky breath forcing itself from your chest. You grit your teeth, trying to keep that guttural sob down in your chest.

The Doctor shifted, kneeling down in front of you to keep eye level. His thumbs lightly caress your cheeks, trying to comfort you through your story. His brown eyes full of concern, brows knitted desperate for answers but not wanting to push you too far. 

“I thought he could change.” You admitted, your eyes watering more than you could handle. “I was naive and caught in the moment. After all the things we’ve done, all the people we’ve helped... I thought I had some power, some influence... something special. I thought if I tried to speak with him again, he’d listen. I thought he would change.” 

A tear rolled down your cheek and a weak little hitched sob escaped your lips. After a short breath, you continued. “But I was wrong. I was foolishly hopeful...” you sniffled. “And... just stupid to think I could make a difference.” 

The Doctor shook his head with a soft sigh, wiping the tear from your cheek. It hurt him to hear you speak so lowly of yourself. It hurt him to know someone had brought you down so much. “Listen to me,” he said softly. “You are not a fool for hoping. You are not stupid for trying. And it is not your fault he did not change.” 

Your eyes searched his. Your eyes were watery and breath trembling as you held back from outright bawling from his needed comfort. You spent so long alone, hiding this pain and burying the feelings the abuse had formed so deep inside you that it felt like it was rotting you to the core; that having someone who cared so deeply for your well-being and your happiness was foreign and yet...entirely welcome. It was like a relief you so desperately craved.

“It is not your fault he cannot change.” He whispered. “Some people are so caught in their own darkness, they want to pull everyone down with them.” The Doctor’s gaze was intense and serious. A sight that wasn’t exactly rare but it was still monumental. “Don’t let him pull you down.” 

You closed your eyes, allowing more tears to fall. “I just don’t understand why he hates me so much,” you finally gave into your sadness, allowing yourself to cry.. “All my life, I’ve just tried to be exactly what he wanted, what anyone would want in their child. I tried to be good and kind. To be something he could be proud of. I just want to help people, to be useful, to be worthy...but no matter what I do, I’m never good enough.” 

The Doctor’s jaw clenched slightly, hearing those words come from you. It was a side of you he never saw and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like seeing someone so bright and kind, saying such cruel things about themself. How could you even think of yourself in such a way? He’d never forgive your father for making you feel this way. 

“You are good and kind.” he said softly, brushing some of your hair from your face. “There are people all throughout the galaxy who can sleep peacefully, who are free to live their lives however they want because of you, because you chose to help them.” He said gently. “You don’t need to prove yourself worthy. You already are. And it had nothing to do with me or him, you are completely brilliant on your own.” 

“And your dad is an idiot if he cannot see that.” He said. He meant it seriously but there was a hint of lightheartedness in his voice. “...and you do not need to make him see it either. It is not your job to change him. And you should not change for him.” The Doctor caressed your cheek with his thumb, soothing that stinging pain. 

“I ask you, Don’t go back. Don’t give him any more power over you. I know you want things to be different but the change that must be made, is one you need to make for yourself. You need to know when to walk away...” He said, low and serious,  “And I am telling you, now is the time.” 

You teared up more, biting your lip to keep in a small sob. “I know you’re right. But I’m scared. I don’t know how to be without them... It doesn’t even feel possible to walk away. They’re my family.” Your hands clenched in your lap, trembling over the idea of ending things. 

You spent your whole life forced to believe that family was everything. You had to be loyal, to do everything you could for them even when it exhausted you to the bone. Walking away felt selfish but you were so tired. You knew he was right. You couldn’t do this anymore. You didn’t want to do it anymore. 

“But you are loved and cared for by so many. And by me more than anyone. You’re not alone. I am here for you.” The Doctor whispered softly, leaning close so you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “And even if I am not here, there are so many people in your life that will help you. You don’t have to do this alone. You have more than just that family.” 

You nodded, letting out a small cry. He watched you break into sobs, unable to contain it any longer. He could only imagine the amount of pain you were in. He loathed the fact that you held in those sobs, conditioned not to let out your feelings. How many years did you suffer alone? How long did you hide this pain? He couldn’t bear the thought. 

Slowly, the Doctor moved his hands from your cheeks, to your shoulders, guiding you into an embrace. His arms wrapped around you, one hand rubbing your back gently and the other cradled the back of your head. “Shh, it’s alright.” He whispered, moving closer to rest his chin on your head. “You’re alright.” 

You sobbed in his hold, allowing yourself this moment of vulnerability. Even though you were exposing your deepest pain, you didn’t feel weak or scared. You just felt relieved that the Doctor met that openness with only love and care. He wanted the best for you and you could feel that. 

The Doctor gave you that moment to cry, to grieve and let go of all the hurt deep inside you. He knew he couldn’t fix this, not right away, anyway. But he’d be there for you no matter when you needed him. He held you through the deep sobs and shaky breaths, whispering soft things to calm you down.

“Breathe,” he said softly, shifting back to cup your cheeks once more. He looked over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and watery eyes. He made a sad smile. “Sometimes we need a good cry, that’s all... Just breathe through it.” he cooed softly, he made a show off breathing in and out for you to mimic. “In and out.” 

You made some small breaths, slowly easing your breathing and your tears subsiding. The tension in your body slowly released, focusing entirely on him. 

“No more tears, okay?” He wiped any leftover tears with his thumbs. “There, now give us a smile?” he smiled with his teeth. 

You couldn’t help but smile, even if it was little. He was so silly and you always found that endearing. Even at your lowest, he could make you feel better. You loved that about him. 

“There we go! All better!” The Doctor’s smile grew seeing you cheer up a bit. “You’re going to be okay.” 

You let out a teary laugh and smiled weakly.  “God, I’m a mess.” You sniffled and wiped your eyes with the small of your palm. You felt like you could breathe again, a little less burdened by the pain in your face and in your heart. He just had that effect on you, on anyone really. “Oh...we’re all a bit of a mess in the end.” The Doctor smiled, his tone a bit lighter. “Now. Can I take a look at your nose?” 

When you nodded, “Good. But first, let's get you cleaned up,” He hummed while you let out any shaky breaths still lingering in your system. He pulled out a handkerchief from the pocket of his long signature coat.“Hold still for me, alright?” 

The Doctor was gentle, wiping the dried blood and left over tears from your cheeks with soft practiced motions. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was actually a doctor and knew how to handle things like this. His hand rested on your jaw to keep your head still while he worked to clean up the injury. He didn’t want any blood or pain on your face.

Once cleaned,  He pulled out his glasses from his pocket, and moved his hand to hold your chin gently. “Lets see here.” he tilted his head to an almost silly degree, making weird hummed sounds as he observed your face. “Alright...” he murmured, still studying your injury. He took off his glasses, folding them closed. “It doesn’t look broken, but it’s still pretty bad.” He clicked his tongue as he pocketed his glasses. He stood up straight. 

You frowned slightly, touching your nose and winced slightly. “It feels pretty bad.” You sighed. “But then again, I just sort of feel bad in general.” 

When the doctor held his hand out to you, your gaze flickered up to his face. He had a warm smile on and his eyes glimmering with that special look he got when an insane idea formed. “What’s that look for?” You asked with a small chuckle, taking his hand without needing to even think about it and allowed him to pull you to stand. 

“Well.” He dragged out the word with a small flick of his head, “if my companion is injured, we might as well stop by a planet with a really good hospital. Just to make sure you’re alright.” He smiled, squeezing your hand. “And then, oh... I don’t know, we might make another stop. Or two.” 

“Or three.” you smiled, him grinning in response. 

“Oh, you never want to stop on an odd number. Odd numbers are so....odd!” He smiled cheekily, leading you towards the Tardis. “We might as well make it even! In some cultures, Four is a lucky number, you know!” 

You let out a sweet laugh as he pushed the door open. “So one quick trip to an alien hospital and then four more stops?” you smiled as he pulled you inside the Tardis and closed the door behind you. “Isn’t that a lot?” 

The Doctor chuckled, pulling off his coat and tossed it onto the railing. He jogged up to the console. “Oh, well, maybe. But you can handle it.” He grinned, pulling a lever as the Tardis began to make a low rumble. “Besides! It’s just a quick stop to heal those injuries and then we can go on the real fun!” He looked at you with an excited twinkle in his eyes. “It’s a really fancy hospital too!  They’ve got technology to heal the worst of the worst with just a simple button! We’ll be in and out!” 

You laughed, rushing over to the console, “Can I at least pick one of our trips?” you smiled. He stepped around you, flipping some switches before turning to face you. 

He was so giddy just to see you smiling again. It took everything inside him not to drop everything and storm into your family’s home and give your father a taste of his own medicine. But right now, he just wanted to focus on you and ensure you were okay, safe and happy. 

“Of course.” He nodded like it was obvious. “Where would you like to go?” He asked. “Or when? Or the combination of the two?” 

You laughed lightly. You made a show of pretending to think but you already knew your answer. “Somewhere new.” You smiled. 

He beamed, letting out a little hummed laugh. “Right. Somewhere new.” The Doctor turned to the console and pushed a button. 

And with that, the Tardis began to make that sweet whooshing sound. 

i hope it gets better for you. Thank you for reading.

[tenth-doctor-whore]

Feast

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　Tenth Doctor x Reader　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 18+ SMUT - MINORS DNI

Summary: The Doctor decides that more than anything, he needs you to sit on him, and he needs to devour you. Word Count: 1.5K A/N: First fanfic and it's a smut, hope you guys enjoy!! GN reader with female anatomy. Feel free to request :) ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡

You and the Doctor had been dating for a little over a year now. Or, dating is the term you use. While there hadn’t been an official label put onto your relationship, it didn’t matter to you and the Time Lord. He didn’t confine to human social constructs anyways, but loved you all the same. He would press kisses on your head before running out of the TARDIS, little care in the world, other than you of course. His hand would constantly be on yours, trailing Gallifreyan that if you asked about he would get vague and change the subject. Occasionally, there would be quick pecks here and there, when his energy got high and he didn’t know how to contain himself. Other times, especially after close calls, he would be slow and needy. That’s how your first time went, a few months after platonic and romantic got blurred before you two. After a dozen (give or take, the Doctor doesn’t confine to schedules as much as you would think a Lord of Time would) or so adventures, he would take you the same way. Rarely needy, though that has happened as well. 

This was one of those times, and the Doctor was starved. Something about a scent somewhere on the last adventure and his nerves and body, something about an ancient Time Lord biology thing. It’s hard to think or understand his words as he quickly strips you down, taking you into the nearest room and unwrapping you like a gift he desperately craves, leaving you in just your underwear. Not that you’re complaining. His hands are all over you as he rambles, apologies here and there, but you reassure him lovingly. You cup his face, dragging him down on top of you as you passionately kiss him. His lips are soft, as you graze your teeth over his bottom lip, biting it to hear his noises. He lets out a soft gasp as your tongue makes his way into his mouth, undressing him when you can. Soon, after a few giggles, gasps, and his roaming hands that make it hard to get any progress, he’s down to his underwear too and showing. The Doctor sits up, straddling you onto the bed, as he looks them up and down, deciding his next course of action. His lips meet your neck, eyes fluttering shut as he nips gently, his tongue flicking out to taste their skin. Their breaths are needy, as he continues his trail down to your underwear, looking up to them with eyes dilated. 

“Y/N, I need you to trust me, alright?” His voice is slightly raspy, as if dehydrated. You give a slight nod, eyes half lidded as you look down at him. “I need you to sit on my face.” Your eyes snap open quickly as you sit up to look at him. You two have done oral before, but never like this. “I can’t- we can’t- you need to breathe. Isn’t it the same if you do it down there like normal?” He sits up as well, moving next to you and grazing your neck again, unable to stop himself from touching you for even a moment. “I said to trust me, right?” His teeth make his way to your ear, tugging on the lobe softly. “Are you against it?” You shake your head, heat pooling into your underwear at the thought, but concern tugging its way into your mind as well. “We can try.”

His smile widens as he repositions himself where he’s laying down, pulling you over him and quickly toying at your underwear with his teeth, which he quickly discards as well. Soon your sex is bare above him, and he’s staring like a man who is malnourished, your juices being his nectar. He starts marking up your thighs, unable to feast with how far up you’re positioned from him. Instead of giving him the satisfaction, you bite the inside of your cheek and start palming his cock over the fabric, hoping to satisfy him that way. You, frankly, were worried, as far as you knew Time Lords still need oxygen and probably shouldn’t have an entire human body’s weight on them. 

The Doctor groaned, head tilting back slightly, closer to your lower lips but still not close enough to do as he pleases. The hand, he knew, was a distraction, as of course they would be worried. They’re just that type of person. The Doctor grumbles as he grabs you by your thighs and drags you down closer, forcing you to properly straddle his face as his fingers dig into your soft skin. Another rough palm to his cock has him hitching his breath slightly. His breath fans over your wet pussy as he hums impatiently, knowing your tactics. 

“I meant what I said, darling. I want you to sit on my face, properly. I’ve survived a hell of a lot worse than suffocation, and this would be a hell of a way to die.” “I would rather you not die, Doctor-” You gasp out as he bites against your thigh again, silencing you. You palm against him more as his eyes flutter shut. He was so close to your sex, eager to taste it fully. He could feel the tension in your body, knowing he can turn you into a liquid under his touch if you would just let him. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks gently, your consent being his topmost priority. You shake your head quickly, as he gives your thigh a squeeze, his hand warm and firm, urging you to settle down then. As you lower yourself gently, his eyes widen as he lets out a content hum. He could feel their weight and warmth engulfing him entirely. His tongue darts out, tracing the folds of their sex, spreading the wetness around entirely. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent, as he laps your juices up. His tongue is flicking and swirling, his hands reaching up to cup your ass, squeezing and kneading it, holding you into place as he feasts. He hums against you, his voice vibrating, as he manages out,

“be a darling and grab my sonic for me?”

Your legs are shaking slightly as you lean down to his discarded coat on the side of the bed, grabbing his sonic, trusting him like he said. It’s hard to think or move your limbs as his lips continue their relentless assault on your pussy. 

“What do you need the sonic for?” You gasp out, his tongue making his way inside your hole. His tongue is slightly longer than a human’s, reaching deeper than you thought it could. One of his hands comes off of your ass to guide you to hold the sonic to your clit. He pulls out just enough to respond.

“Hold the button there, and don’t stop, got it?”

You nod shakily as you do as he says, almost screaming out as it immediately vibrates directly on your clit. His tongue is back in you as well, mouth completely open as he makes quick work of you. Your body tenses as moans of his name flow out of your mouth like a symphony, unable to stop even if you tried. His hands are both back on your ass, so as you try to squirm away from overstimulation, he lets out a disapproving hum, keeping you there. Your core tightens, a large orgasm about to flow over you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. 

“Doctor please I’m about to-” You start babbling at this point, finding it hard to keep your mind straight. He speeds up as you completely tense, a wave crashing over you as you release on his face. The sonic is forgotten, dropped onto the bed during the intense feelings. You moan out loudly, body shaking, as he gently laps over your folds, taking up every drop. He eases your body down with his tongue, and soon your orgasm is done, body heavy and weightless at the same time. He taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to move when you’re ready, and you manage to get off of him and lay down onto the bed, still seeing slight stars. 

His face appears above yours, lips and chin dripping wet with your juices. He licks his lips with a grin, looking down at you before taking your lips in his gently. You can taste yourself, which makes you let out another soft moan. His hands trail your body, still worshiping your body through his touches. He pulls back, a soft smile on his face as he kisses your nose. 

“Didn’t die.” 

“Well, I almost did.” You laugh softly, legs feeling like jelly already. 

“We’re not done yet, Y/N.” He tsks, flicking your clit softly with his thumb, smiling wider as you flinch. He starts taking off his underwear as your breathing picks up slightly, already overstimulated from one orgasm but absolutely not going to stop him.

“There’s worse ways to die, right?” You say softly, closing your eyes as he starts to slowly insert himself.

[enby-jellyfish]

Return to Me. Masterlist

The Doctor X GN!Immortal!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your, They/Them

Summary: You are an immortal, having lived since the birth of the planet Earth. A certain Timelord takes interest in you.

Warnings: (Probably) inaccurate timeline.

Prologue: New Year, New... You?

(TBC)

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[magiccath]

Psychic paper

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the psychic paper betrays the Doctor

A/N: The Doctor is fruity, deal with it xx

You’d been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and you loved every minute of it. In that time he had shown you all kinds of things you had priorly deemed impossible; aliens with wiggly tentacles, a spaceship that defies the laws of 3 dimensional space, a buzzing device he calls the Sonic Screwdriver, and homicidal salt shakers with toilet plungers for arms to name just a few. 

It seemed that with every adventure he showed you something new and fascinating, constantly topping himself without even trying. There was so much in all of time and space it wasn’t that hard. Anything outside of the 21st century was new to you. 

This time, the Doctor had taken you to see a mechanics factory in the 35th century, but as always the adventure didn’t end there. Aside from new experiences, the Doctor could almost always promise some kind of trouble. He claimed he didn’t go searching for it but rather that it tended to follow him. Either way, most adventures with the Doctor involved some kind of mischief and usually a lot of running.

“It’s no good, you can only get in with an ID,” you groaned, popping your head back around the corner. “There’s a security guard checking everyone going in and out is an employee.” 

You were hiding in a hallway, hoping to get inside the establishment's headquarters. The Doctor had a hunch that malicious alien forces were behind the operation, but he couldn’t be sure without poking around further. Typical Doctor, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“I can’t think of any legal ways to get in there,” you shrugged, turning to the Doctor for ideas. 

“I have identification,” the Doctor smirked, rummaging around in the seemingly endless pockets of his coat. 

“You’re not an employee,” you pointed out. 

The Doctor made a triumphant sound as he pulled what appeared to be a small black notebook out of the depths of his pocket. He flipped it open and you realized it wasn’t a notepad. The item was more like a police badge, minus the actual badge part.

He turned the paper towards you with a smile, clearly expecting you to be impressed 

“Aren’t I?” He grinned brightly, looking at you eagerly. “Psychic paper,” he explained, tapping the stark white paper with his finger.

You grabbed the item from him, squinting at it. You wanted to make sure you were reading it right, maybe your eyes were acting up. 

“This just says ‘I love you’?” You asked, handing the Doctor his weird paper back with a frown. 

“I think that flirting with the security guard is more of a Jack move,” you winced, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The Doctor was quite the charmer, but strategic flirting wasn’t his strong suit.

The Doctor grabbed his psychic paper from you, frowning at it aggressively. It wasn’t supposed to say that. 

“What-?” he asked, glaring at it the same way you did. Once the words registered with him he turned a dark shade of red. He should have been more careful when he handed it over to you.

“It’s not supposed to say that,” he mumbled his thoughts, trying to hide his fluster. 

“How does it work? Is it like a reusable notepad?” You asked, genuinely interested. Even if the Doctor’s tools could be finicky, they were interesting. Maybe he had just forgotten to erase the message from the last time he used it. 

“No, it’s supposed to show the reader what I want them to see,” he blushed, shaking the paper out like a Polaroid. Usually shaking the item would clear it, but those three words refused to fade from the paper. 

“Sometimes it’s a bit slow…” he said, really more to himself than to you. He was still shaking the paper, desperately trying to get the words to disappear. 

“So you were going to try and flirt with the security guard?” You frowned, now you were even more confused. The Doctor would much rather blow the whole place up than try and flirt his way through security. 

“No!” He said, almost a bit too quickly. He blushed again and averted his gaze, an anxious hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t planned on telling you like this. He hadn’t planned on telling you at all.

“When I handed it over it was supposed to show you an employee ID,” he winced. You nodded, this much you knew. What you didn’t understand was the confession of love. 

“But I think the psychic paper picked up on my feelings instead,” he whispered. If you hadn’t been listening intently you might have missed the last few words. 

“Are you saying that you love me?” You frowned, looking at the floor with concentration, “or the security guard?” The second option seemed more viable at the moment.

For the first time in a century, the Doctor was speechless. He stared at you, wide-eyed and unblinking as you waited for his answer. If it was possible, his jaw might have fallen to the floor.

“He’s pretty handsome, I can’t blame you,” you added, peeking over the wall to look at the security guard again.

The Doctor shook himself out of it, rambling a string of incoherent words. “I- uh, wha-?” He stumbled, trying to form a sentence.

“I handed the paper to you.” He said definitively.

“It’s a really dramatic way to come out, Doctor.” You continued on, ignoring him. It’s not like you didn’t know already, he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.

“It didn’t say ‘I love men’!” He threw his hands up in distress. “It said ‘I love you’!”

You finally stopped rambling on about the security guard and turned your attention to the Doctor. His words caught up to you and tentatively you pointed at yourself as if there was any other you. The Doctor nodded exasperatedly as if to say “Yes, you!”

“You love me?” you asked, still pointing at yourself. 

“I think I’ve said it about four times now.” 

“You?” You pointed at the Doctor, “Love me?” 

“Blimey! Yes!” He shouted, frustrated now. You widened your eyes and anxiously checked around you, scared he might have given away your location. Thankfully, everyone appeared to be out of earshot. 

“Yes, I love you,” he whispered this time, his eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, your brain still refusing to process his confession. 

You smiled brightly, your grin taking over your entire face. The Doctor loved it when you lit up like this, your happiness radiating off of you. He felt a small smile of his own tugging at his lips just looking at you. 

“I hope that’s alright,” he whispered quietly. He would never forgive himself if he lost you over a psychic paper mishap. The embarrassment would be too much - he’d have to run away. Maybe to that planet inhabited by only rubber ducks? 

“That’s more than alright,” you grinned, a hand instinctively reaching up to his arm to comfort him. The fabric of his coat was cold against your palm, but you didn’t pull away.

The Doctor really smiled back at you now, the wild lopsided grin that was reserved just for you. The kind of smile that always made you laugh with joy. 

He wasted no time wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting your body off the ground in excitement. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. You laughed happily, waving your feet about slightly. 

The Doctor pulled back just enough to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. Neither of you could stop smiling, even as your lips met. You laughed against him, planting kisses across his face sloppily. Your lips brushed the tip of his nose, the arch of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, and his jawline.

“The security guard is pretty cute though,” the Doctor teased with a sly smile. 

“I knew it!” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you did.

[simp-ly-writes]

Love Don't Roam

─────── · · For All Time: The Series (pt.5)

─ · · PAIRING: The Doctor x F!Time Lord!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: After nearly drowning in the Titanic, you find yourself a few years later in France where two men wait for you in the gardens, a famous painter and later a physician who comes bearing dire news. Now it wouldn't be very "Lady-like" of you to not help out... right?

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, second person perspective, canon divergence, soulmate au, big ass monologue, mutual pining, grovelling, emotional angst, ✨ tension ✨, coarse language, suggestive themes, kissing, eventual happy ending, not beta read or edited.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,216 | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR | PART SIX

─ · · A/N: this chapter is inspired by the song "Love Don't Roam" by Murray Gold from the Doctor Who soundtrack :)

─────── · ·

You smelled too much of aftershave and coffee with a hint of honey. Your skin was crawling to life, hot and yearning, your thoughts a whirlwind of how his touch felt, the sound of his voice whispering into your ear- you wanted to scream at your body for thinking it could control you. So when stepping foot back into your TARDIS, you quickly stripped yourself of all your clothings, stuffling the garments into a bin before finding a new outfit. 

The first shirt felt too itchy, the next not warm enough. You grew even more frustrated when you couldn’t find the skirt you wanted to wear and felt like a tantrum throwing toddler once seeing the mess you’ve made of your wardrobe. A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you hug your knees on the floor, head atop your knees as you stare off into the distance. You are the Lady, you are a Warrior of the Time Wars, a survivor, one of the last of your kind… you do not need-

Your TARDIS choses then to gather your attention, a hum for the engines sounds like a soft coo  meant to comfort you, the lights gone dim and presenting a warm yellow-ish colour yet you only feel more frustrated. “Not helping! I’m trying my best not to feel pathetic right now,” you retort to the walls. 

The TARDIS remains silent, guilt starts to creep its way up your spine as it was just trying to help. “I’m sorry, I’m just not in the right headspace right now,” you whisper yet receive no reply. Sighing through your nose, you will yourself enough strength to stand and head towards your bed, tossing and turning underneath the covers before holding your pillow.  

Drip… Drip… Drip… the distant sound drives you mad, distracting you from your floating thoughts as you rush out the room and towards the console where the lower level has been flooded. I didn’t travel… shit! Shit! Shit! You panic, looking up to the ceiling and rafters that have started to take on water damage. 

Slipping on the wet floors, bathrobe caught on a lever and brain a bit frazzled in a sleepless haze, you press in random coordinates with no date or time in mind, just anywhere but here, now! The TARDIS slowly stirs back to life, the internal voice gargles like their mouth is filled with water. 

Suddenly you are thrown around the interior of your spacecraft. Lights are blaring and fading, warning sirens sound in your ear, the rush of the water from underneath your feet as you hold on tightly to the console as your TARDIS tips and sprays the water back out into the ocean. 

Once the room is upright you shakily sit down in a nearby armchair and flick a switch for the heating to come on. Well… that just happened, you and the TARDIS share a laugh before your heavy head starts to dip into the high back of the chair. Your legs tucked over the armrest as you bury your face into your shoulder, taking in one deep breath before the room fades to blackness around you. 

─────── · ·

In the morning, or what you hope to be not fully knowing how long you were resting. You walk out of your TARDIS in a lace white dress, your outfit is complemented by its various small bows as you twirl a parasol in hand keeping the sun away from your face. 

Flowers, hills, a small pond surrounded by mature trees. You look back to see your TARDIS become a simple shed on the property before continuing down the gravel path. The hills come alive with the wind causing the grass to stand and wave. Tree branches creek and groan as birds sing high up above. For a moment you question if you’re in heaven as the sun gently kisses your face high in the afternoon sky. 

But in taking a deep breath in you feel your nose hairs burn at the faintest hint of gunpowder, a shiver runs down your spine as you realize that the peace of this moment was on the cusp of ruin- the world would forget all about it for years to come…. Humans and their silly little guns, you shake your head, adjusting the hat upon your head with a small frown. It was late March in 1914, two months ahead of WW1 and when you turned a blind corner around a tall hedge you saw a bearded man in a pork pie hat that matched the leather of his suspenders. 

His suit was a beige linen, dress shirt a light blue as he offered you a smile, waving you over to the park bench he sat upon. “Is it my time finally?” he asks once you are within hearing view, you pause in your strides, eyes going wide at the sudden sight of tears dripping down his cheeks. You rush forwards presenting a handkerchief in hand as he pats his face gently, holding the material between his shaking fingers. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I’ll come willingly. I fear there’s not much left for me to realize here. I’ve lost my second wife, my son, and soon my house and garden to those savages with guns… the world would be better if everyone held a brush. But maybe that's a world only when I’m gone, we best make it quick then,” he smiles up at you before turning towards the swans in the pond drifting elegantly around the water lilies as if trying to put each detail to memory. 

Water lilies… you ponder, eyes drifting across the pond to where a record player sits beside a canvas upon the rocks. You then turn yourself around to see a grand pink house with green shutters. Mature veins span all across the lower level making their way up to the second floor where the roof has been maintained with freshly lain shingles. 

“I’m no angel, Monsieur Monet, but I can tell you that you have many years ahead of you to finish the scene and maybe it’ll inspire others in that new world you imagine,” you greet the Father of Impressionism with a small tilt to your head, clasping your parasol shut as you take the empty seat on the bench. 

The Master Painter chuckles, “you speak with such certainty, are you sure you’re not a higher being? No human should speak in such a way for the light is always changing.” You don’t reply straight away, watching as the sunlight reflects off the waters and dances across the white feathers of the swans. 

“I’ve lived long enough to always be certain of somethings,” you respond, patting the hand that rests upon his knee. 

“But you look so young?” Claude Monet’s brows furrow as he tries to look more closely at his face. You hum, “it's because I’ve made art.” Monet laughs at your comment whole heartedly, “maybe I should have made less then.” And you join in on the laughter. 

“So, if not an angel and most certainly not my nurse or child. What are you doing here in my gardens?” the Painter asks, tone curious with eyes holding a knowing look of what you have yet to place your finger on. He suddenly stands and motions for you to do the same, offering you his arm before leading you further into the painted scene you had viewed many times before. 

“That I still have yet to discover…” your sentence drifts off with the wind as you stand on a green bridge. Your forearms lay across the railing as you take a closer look across the pond at what he was painting. The landscape looks serene, pink hues dance up the middle of the canvas parting the blue waters to encapsulate the setting sun. “Waiting for the sun to set?” you comment off handedly, looking to take the attention away from yourself again. 

Monet does not look at you, simply staring at his painting with a mixture of thoughtfulness and dissatisfaction. “I’ve been debating all this morning if I should stake a knife through it or try and fix the reflections again,” he lets out a frustrated sigh, taking off his hat and rotating the brim around in his fingers, “I’ve succeeded with the other two panels, it is this middle one that fails me or maybe it is my eyes.” 

“Not your eyes, not yet,” you mumble, feeling yourself becoming lost in the painting as you drift off in between the subtle ripples he’s captured. So enraptured by the scene you fail to realize that the Painter had walked away and back off to his canvas. You snap up to attention once realizing he joined the painting, brush in hand, hat castaway upon a nearby stool. 

You pick up your skirt- ready to follow along yet he holds his palm out halting your actions. “Stay there, I think I might change this one,” he smiles at you, “as you were,” he orders as you try to resume your relaxed appearance. You hear him chuckle from behind the canvas, you roll your eyes, “you better not be painting me green, Monsieur,” you joke yet receive no response as the artist has lost himself to the canvas once again. 

Hours pass you by as you close your eyes, head starting to slip from off your palm as the sun sets behind you. A cough as you stand upright as Monet waves you over and removes his hand from off the stool, offering you to sit. At first you don’t think to take it, gasping at the elegant image of yourself, dress blowinging away with the wind as you lean over the banister watching the lilies float and suddenly you find yourself sat, eyes filled with thankfulness as you grasp the hand covered in paint without a care for your dress or gloves.  

“It is wonderful, one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and trust me that is a compliment, you truly are one of the greats,” you smile brightly before confusion clouds over your features as when Monet opens his mouth to speak yet a different voice calls out from behind you. 

“I think I see two suns in that image, it reminds me of home in more ways than one,” the voice sounds eerily familiar yet you didn’t think to have ever heard it before. Spinning around you are met with a tweed jacket and bowtie, their smile is large as they bend towards you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

You freeze in your spot as does the man before you. He pulls back quickly, clearing his throat before sucking in his lips, “So we haven’t connected yet… alllll-right.” And in an instant you place your finger on who this could be. 

“Haunting my past, present, and future are you now?” you tease whilst patting the future Doctors cheek, his larger hand holds your touch against his face, eyes closing briefly to savour the moment. 

“You know how time works, darling. Can’t tell you anything about the future,” the Doctor mumbles, opening his eyes slowly to look over every feature of your face with precision, “but you can answer me, when's the last time we saw one another?”

You pause, “well for me it was about a day or two ago on the Titanic, I have no idea where the Doc- well you are,” your spouting smile starts to wilt once realizing the situation, “Does something bad happen if you’re holding me like this now?” 

The Doctor's face drops, you can hear his hearts thumping loudly as he scrambles for words. His hands move to gently cup face, “nope, nothings happening to you, not now, not ever. You’re fine, more than fine actually you’re stunning- practically better than ever. But for me… well,” his tone high and awkward, “...I need you to do something.” 

You raise a brow, “need me to do what? It best not be you,” you joke, removing his hands from your face to go back to looking at the painting and realize that Monet had gone inside for the night. The Doctor frowns at your lack of attention, moving to stand behind you, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Future you is very physical… noted, you comment to yourself. 

“Of course you would say something like that now,” he grumbles in your ear, “We’re both too stubborn for our own good. I remember when your father warned me of that.” 

“He hated you, you know,” you scoff at the memory. Your father was furious that out of all the suitors you ‘had to go with him,’  your father’s words not your own. 

“He just hated that I was the best choice,” the Doctor stands, puffing out his chest proudly. You roll your eyes, giving him a playful knock with your hip. “If you’re so playful with me now… what's stopping you from going to current me?- Wait, don't answer that quite yet,” his voice goes down a notch, a smirk beginning to form as you hold your breath in wait for whatever nonsense he was about to spill, unable to contain the humour in his eyes. 

“Do you fancy me more like this?” he whispers, biting his lip whilst waiting somewhat patiently for your answer. You suck in a sharp breath at his question before bursting out laughing and walking out of his hold. The Doctor appears absolutely mortified and offended before marching after you, “I promise you I am better in many-”

“Oh shush you. I’m not telling you what variations I like the most-” you begin your sentence before getting cut off. 

“So you DO have favourites! If you can’t tell me details you can at least tell me where  matchstick man sits on the rankings,” the Doctor tilts his head, eyes bright at his new discovery as he practically dances across the pathway stones behind you. 

“If you really must know he’s up there and that’s all you’re getting,” you cross your arms, the cool kiss of the night air making you cold. The Doctor instantly notices this, stripping himself of his coat to cover your shoulders. “Thanks,” you smile up at him loving the way his eyes dilate at the sight, “so what did you need me to do?” you ask whilst leaning up against your TARDIS camouflaged as a garden shed. 

The Doctor's shoulders drop as he realizes his time with the younger you was coming to an end. He takes two long strides forwards to stand toe to toe with you. An arm comes up to rest above your head, his face leans down to stare into your eyes. 

You place more of your weight against the door, head tilting upwards to meet his gaze, exposing your neck. “Well don’t you look gorgeous like this,” he teases. “Doctor,” you strain his voice in warning. 

“Fine, fine, I need you to pretend,” he emphasizes, “to kiss me-” he gets cut off by your gasp. 

“What?” you start to look off to the side for an escape, the Doctor's other arm cages you in.

“Donna Noble is about to come in,” he looks down at his wrist watch yet just before you can look down to double check the time he grabs your chin, gently tilting your head back up with a smile, “just under a minute to try and convince you to stay, and as you can tell by my sudden appearance, it fails. Soooo!- above all else, I need you to stop me from doing something to someone that affects the future Doctor, this Doctor,” he raises his hand, pointing at himself and then the surrounding environment, “and the whole universe,” before placing his hand on your hip.

“Ah so this current ordeal is a canon event? And how am I going to distract you if I’m standing here with future you?” you swallow deeply. “Mhmm,” the Doctor hums back, a wild look in his eyes as you lick your lips and you don’t know what question that hum answered. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you try another angle to get your questions answered, the Doctor just presses his body closer against your own, disregarding your comment. “Place your hand here please and oh, you are ahead of me,” he kisses your cheek again in praise with a chuckle. 

“Doctor,” you warn more breathily than the last. “Sorry,” the Doctor replies instantly and you can tell for a fact that he was very much not sorry. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you grumble, starting to feel drunk off of his affections, fingers struggling to undo buttons and trying to loosen his neck tie. With your head clouded, your legs fall weak at the sounds of the Doctor's short gasps everytime you touch his skin whilst tugging at and wrinkling his shirt to make him look more dishevelled. 

“And I’ll be there and waiting to meet you on the other side. Thank you for cooperating, my love,” the Doctor states earnestly, hand sneaking underneath your skirt to rest on your lower thigh. You hear footsteps trailing uphill, looking at the Doctor and suddenly feeling breathless, head spinning, body burning in want that practically make you forget about all those dark years just to feel this warmth, this light in this moment. 

“I think this is one of the weirder ways I’ve saved the universe,” you murmur, lips hovering just above the Doctors holding your position as a sudden burst of light shocks you both, you whine as your eyes burn from the flash of a camera, the bubble of bliss popped. The Doctor places your head against his chest trying to recapture what was lost, “I hope you know that I-” he begins to say before you both freeze at the sound of a shout. 

“Oi Minster! You get your hands off her! I can’t have you ruining my plan so off you go, shoo!” You are frozen in spot feeling as the Doctor's shoulders bounce- trying to conceal his laughter in your shoulder. “If you think I’m playing around that one there has a very angry alien friend that is looking for something to rip his teeth into and it could be you!” Donna tries to persuade the Doctor from… the Doctor, you begin to giggle too, biting your lip to conceal a smile at the ridiculous scenario you find yourself in. 

“Didn’t you hear? I’m looking for something to sink my teeth into,” the Doctor whispers while looking up at you, a dark look passing through his gaze, a finger trails down your spine and then it all clicks together. “You’re using me to distract you,” you deadpan, shoving the future Doctor away from you as you sober up, “You’re making yourself jealous… with yourself…” you pinch your nose, what a mess this is going to be. 

“Well If I know me, and trust me I do, you are the best way at getting me to do something,” the Doctor clarifies before waving a hand behind him as Donna opens her mouth to speak again, “and yes, hello Donna. I’ll leave in a moment just have to make sure the Lady here gets to where she needs to go safely.” 

Donna stands appalled that this stranger before her somehow knows her name. She looks at you for clarity yet you just roll your eyes before slamming your TARDIS door shut and when she looks back around the man is gone. Great… Just great! She thinks to herself. 

─────── · ·

This man! Should have gotten with the Editor at least then I wouldn’t have to worry about greying so much, You grumble to yourself, hands starting to fly across the console as you undo the pins in your hair, massaging your scalp with one hand, typing with the other. Yet just before you pull the lever to launch yourself back off into the space you suddenly remember… the painting!

Darting out of your box and down the hill in bare feet you are surprised to find a lack of Donna Noble when you reach the bottom of the hill yet think nothing of it, must have returned to the Doctor. Grabbing hold of the large frame, your arms wobble as the weight of the wood frame has you stumbling side to side before carrying it successfully into your home and leaning it against a wall. 

Out of breath you grip the console, leaning forwards and trying to regain your breath. Yet when you close your eyes, all you see is him. Fuck… you press a hand to your hearts and feel as they jump at the sudden sound of the door slamming shut behind you.

Swiftly turning around to face the intruder you see the Doctor, your current Doctor, you specify looking rather coldly at you, jaw locked, breathing ragged, and is that a drop of blood on his collar? The final thing you notice are his eyes blazing with a passion you had yet to discover what for. He walks swiftly up to you grabbing hold of your wrist as you try and twirl away- setting your hand back against the console as he cages you between his arms and chest. 

“Doctor,” your throat dry as you stare up at him with a nervous smile, “any reason for your… sudden appearance?” you lie straight through your teeth. 

“I think you know why I’m here, love,” you suck in your breath at his quiet, deep tone, “So you have a choice, you either tell me what happened and who that was or… I will make you forget.”

“That sounds like a threat, Doctor. You know I don’t like to be threatened,” you fire back whilst pushing against his chest yet he does not move, doesn't even touch you, just stares… waiting for your answer, sighing when you don’t. His and the Masters words are so mirrored yet it feels so different when it comes from his mouth, you think to yourself. 

“You’ve said my name twice now, which means I’m doing something right, and it's an offer, sweetheart, I’m giving you a way out as soon as I know he’s good for you,” he explains, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead before setting his arm back down. You close your eyes at his touch, feeling the warmth of his fingertips and the small calluses that accompany his touch and your skin comes alive alongside your heart, bond humming with joy as the missing parts of yourselves are rekindled. 

“Well for starters, he really is fit,” you nearly cackle but just manage to refrain in seeing the creases that suddenly appear across the Doctors forehead, “and he never failed to make me laugh or become weak at the knees,” a frown sprouts and grows quickly, “he is surprisingly muscular… and just a bit shorter than you but I like that I can weave my hands through his gorgeous hair more easily,” the current Doctor subconsciously runs a hand through his hair, I have good hair too and I’m not that skinny am I? He thinks to himself. 

“And don’t even get me started on the suit or suspenders, just adorable for someone whos saved the universe-”

“I’ve saved the universe more times than he has I can bet,” the Doctor fires back, oh he is jealous, jealous now, you smile up at the Doctor, eye’s fluttering as you reminisce some more on the recent memory in your greatest form of justice for the last half a millenia. 

“I actually doubt that Doctor, he is older than you and has seen more than you could imagine. It must be a shock for you to have found someone older than you,” you joke, fingers crawling up his arm watching as the muscles relax just in time for your final strike, “and I’m interested in how you’re gonna make me forget you, but indulge me, I’m very curious to know, as I’ve failed to forget countless a times.” 

You observe the Doctor's blatant confusion, his mouth opening and closing like a wish out of water and you throw your head back in laughter pulling the Time Lord closer to you. 

“That man, Mr. Bowtie, was me? Gosh I really let myself go… I really need you, darling, so I don’t end up dressing like that,” the Doctor shakes his head that now rests upon your shoulder. The tease of his hair against your skin has your laughter converting into giggles as you raise a hand to rest against the back of his head, fingers drifting across his scalp. 

“So that's all you need me for? A personal stylist? Quite the fall from being your wife…but if it’s what you want I cannot hold it in me anymore to question that mind of yours,” you press a little further loving the way your husband scrambles with his words, his actions speaking louder as his large palms rub up and down your back in an effort to comfort you or himself you have yet to know, perhaps both.

“No, but if you want to become a professional undresser I would gladly become your partner.” Your laugh warms the Doctor's heart. You can feel the Doctor's smile against your shoulder, feel the small shakes of his chuckles echoing his future self.

“Partner not customer?” you decide to further the joke once your laughs die down. The Doctor presses a featherlight kiss to the nape of your neck, “partner since I would be your only customer.” 

“Jealous still, are we?” you pull the Doctors head up from your shoulder, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw hearing as he hums out in pleasure. 

“Always. I’ll even be jealous of dirt if it keeps your attention from me,” he rests his forehead against yours. 

“You’re insatiable,” you whisper, eyes flicking down to his lips and up again. 

“Very much so. You are everything I could ever want, you are my desire,” and yet his words meant to comfort manage to ping that still hurt part within yourself as you remember Martha, Rose, and all the others you had yet to meet and yet to even know of. 

“Then why be with all the others? Why destroy me and then rebuild me?- You left me there on that battlefield as our planet burned and imploded, I watched you leave with tears in my eyes and blood dripping down my arms,” you grip his arms tightly, shaking the man before you, your words rattling him more than your actions. 

 “At first I looked for you, endlessly but always came empty-handed. There was too much smoke, too much blood and fire, my injuries too demanding. If I had known my love, If I had known I would have not had any second thoughts and taken you with me but after a while my brain refused to register you in any way, the mere thought too painful,” the Doctor steps away, walking around in circles as he recounts the scenes of war so vividly he finds himself flinching before forming fists that slam against a wall before he continues to speak,

“In a way, I was terrified that I had killed you somehow, terrified that you would know what I had done- what had to be done because who would want a killer? Even if you were alive, I told myself, you would not want me. I had watched billions die at my command, I've killed millions with my bare hands and watched their lifeforce dry underneath my fingertips. I've listen to over a thousand species scream my name, curse it like the devil, like a god, like darkness itself- the victorious time lord that knowingly let my planet and people burn and die for the betterment of the universe- to create an equal universe where the only one that would have to suffer to such extent would be myself… how wrong I was… but…” the Doctor takes in a deep breath feeling as you press your head against his back. 

“...Soon that terror soon took to anger that I was forced away from you. That the universe had been so cruel that I lashed out for a while in the never ending silence of your absence and soon realized that I needed some way to cope. Needed someone to make me forget I was missing my Lady, my wife, so that's when the companions came in. Mostly platonic but I could when I would catch a glimpse of you in someone… I couldn’t help myself,” the Doctor feels sick with himself feeling as you hug him from behind and sob, staining his suit jacket with something arguably worse than blood. 

You sob thinking back to the closeness you both used to share back of Gallifrey and then to the Titanic and Monet’s Gardens. You grip him tighter when you hear those screams he tells you off, can smell the blood that has stained his hands just as well as you feel the way it coated your hands like gloves you never managed to get rid of and with a broken voice you ask him to turn around, “please-” but it is the Doctor that falls down to his knees, begging.

He holds the back of your thighs, forehead pressed against your stomach as he shakes, recalling all the grief he has faced and prepares himself for your final rejection that never comes, “I am overwhelmed… parts of me are unsure but I must speak it, I love you,” you whisper his true name with tenderness like easing an old bruise. 

The Doctor raises his head blinking once, twice, thrice, “I’m sorry?” he clears his throat and you laugh, trying to haul him upwards to stand alongside you, “I. love. You,” you speak the words slowly and clearly and you can’t help but cry in seeing that brilliant smile appear just for you, just from your words alone as he suddenly picks you up, causing you to scream as he spins you and for the first time in 700 years, his lips are against your own.

Like two universes colliding, time slows to a halt as warmth begins at your feet spreading across your body and warming your soul from the inside out. His touch is grounding, a bit firm but comforting as you both lose your heads, not knowing how to process such unrivalled bliss. His head dips to deepen the kiss, your hands tugging at strands of his hair as his moan rumbles against your lips, the vibrations going straight to your legs that the Doctor lifts with your assistance around his waist, walking you both towards a chair. 

Pulling back you make yourself comfortable in his lap, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as the Doctor fails to fully pull away, his breath hot and heavy against your shoulder as he trails open wet kisses all the way up to your jaw, stopping and sucking the skin in all those familiar places you can’t believe he still remembers and you jolt as his teeth nip your ear before whispering inside, “I love you too.” 

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: 😮‍💨 that was a lot, thank you for making it all this way- I hope you enjoyed~ (also can't wait to write about Donna POV next chapter 🤭). No promises on any smut or things like that for now but if I do end up writing it in the future I'll only be tagging blogs that have an age of 18 or above!

─ · · FOR ALL TIME TAGLIST: @posionapple24 @azriel64290 @smallerontheoutside @soniiyi @spirit-of-the-hollow @f0x33 @blackoutdays13 @dlljdhsh @staygoldsquatchling02 @athenxt

[bad-wolf-blue]

Tittle: A Time Of Rest

10th Doctor x Reader

Context: The reader gets sick and the doctor struggles to cure her.

Fluff/Angst

The TARDIS hummed quietly in the background, its familiar whirring a constant source of comfort. However, the inside of the ship was unusually still. The usual whirlwind of adventures had come to a sudden halt when you fell ill, the Doctor’s bright smile fading the moment he saw how pale and flushed you were. His clever mind, usually too busy analyzing the universe's mysteries, had come to a screeching halt as he focused entirely on you.

You had collapsed in his arms earlier, and now you were lying on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, your body trembling with chills. The Doctor paced nearby, hands running through his hair, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. "I don't understand it, I really don't!" he muttered to himself, pulling open the TARDIS’s medical panel. "It's just a common flu virus, nothing the TARDIS can't handle, but you're still not getting any better. Why aren’t you—" He stopped mid-sentence, glancing over at you with wide eyes, his voice softening. "You need to rest." You barely had the strength to lift your head. “I’m... fine, really. Just a little... tired." The Doctor sighed, sitting next to you, placing his hand gently on your forehead. His brow furrowed as he noticed how warm you were, far warmer than you should be.

His fingers brushed against your damp skin, but he didn’t pull back. He never pulled back. You were his constant in this chaotic universe, and nothing was going to change that. "You're not fine, and you know it," he said softly, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. "You’re burning up, and this is—" He trailed off, as though unwilling to even voice his worst fear. He’d never seen you this vulnerable before. It unnerved him. “I don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered, closing your eyes for a moment. “You’ve done so much for me already. I’ll be okay, Doctor. You don’t have to worry.”

A short, humorless laugh escaped his lips as he gently lifted your hand into his. “Don’t you dare tell me not to worry. I’ve seen entire planets fall apart, civilizations collapse, but this—this is different. It’s you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice faltered slightly as he said the words, and for a moment, his eyes softened, vulnerable in a way that made your heart skip. The Doctor was always so strong, so confident in his ability to save the universe. But here, with you, he was just a man trying to make sure the person he loved the most was okay. ”You’ve got nothing to worry about, Doctor,” you whispered, trying to smile through the dizziness. "I’m tougher than I look." His gaze softened further, and without saying another word, he leaned down and brushed his lips gently against your forehead. The touch, so tender and warm, was a silent promise: I’m here. I will always be here.

The Doctor sat back, glancing once again at the medical panel, then back at you. “Right. I’ll make us some tea, then. Ginger. It’s supposed to be soothing. You stay here, and I’ll be right back. No moving. Got it?” You gave a slight nod, not having the energy to argue. “Got it." He stood and hurried off to the kitchen, and though you tried to close your eyes, your mind felt fuzzy, your body aching in ways that only the Doctor’s presence seemed to ease.

The TARDIS was there, but it wasn’t enough. You needed him—his comforting words, his hand in yours, the way he always knew how to make the impossible seem surmountable. It was only a few minutes later when he returned, a steaming mug of tea in hand, and he handed it to you carefully. "Here, this should help." He sat down next to you again, his eyes never leaving your face, as though afraid to blink. You took a careful sip of the tea, feeling the warmth seep into your chest. For a moment, the nausea and aches seemed to fade, but they returned all too soon. The Doctor watched you, his fingers absentmindedly running over the edge of the mug as if it were a fidget. "I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have let you get this sick." “Hey, it’s not your fault,” you replied, though you could hear the weakness in your voice. “I didn’t exactly see this coming.” He smiled, albeit sadly. "No, neither did I. But I can’t help but feel responsible." You reached up, taking his hand in yours. "You don’t have to. You’ve always looked after me. You always do." His thumb gently traced the back of your hand. "That’s because I care about you. More than you could ever know." You felt your chest tighten, but the warmth of his words settled like a balm over your anxiety. His voice was steady, but you could hear the edge of desperation, that unspoken fear that he might lose you. "I know," you whispered, closing your eyes for a moment, comforted by his touch. “You don’t have to keep reassuring me. I’m not going anywhere, Doctor."

For a long moment, there was silence between you, the hum of the TARDIS and the sound of your slow, steady breathing filling the air. He squeezed your hand gently. “Good,” he said, his voice firm yet soft. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever. I’ll take care of you, always." And just like that, the warmth of the TARDIS seemed to wrap around you both, the Doctor’s unwavering presence keeping the dark shadows at bay. Even in sickness, you knew you were safe with him. The Doctor would always make sure of that.

As you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, you felt his fingers still resting lightly on yours, and in the quiet of the TARDIS, you knew one thing for certain: whatever happened, you’d always have each other.