#david tennant fanfiction

[bi-bard]

Arguments & Paradoxes - Tenth Doctor Imagine [Doctor Who]

Title: Arguments & Paradoxes

Pairing: Tenth Doctor X Reader

Word Count: 5,531 words

Warning(s): arguments, discussion of character death

Summary: [Based on Season 3, Episode 10 (Blink)] What starts as a normal day leads to the Doctor, Marth, and (Y/n) finding themselves stuck in 1969. Now that they're stuck waiting, there are many conversations waiting to be had.

Author's Note: This story is pretty directly connected to another story from this OC: A Normal Life

If you have any particular episodes/seasons/doctors etc. that you want to see in this series, then let me know.

MORE STORIES OF THIS OC (AND OTHERS) HERE!

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There are times when the easiest days become the most complicated.

It could take one moment for everything to turn completely on its head. One sentence, one word. one movement. One small look.

At least, that was how my life ended up going. Maybe that was simply a side effect of traveling with the Doctor. Maybe it was all just because of me.

Martha, the Doctor, and I were heading toward the sight of an incident. Some lizard creature was planning to have her eggs hatch. The swarm would have wiped out the nearest city and then some.

We had gotten a taxi that took us to this small shop. It looked like it was mostly books and movies and things. It was something that I would never have paid any mind to... except for the woman who came running out.

"Doctor!"

He stopped. I stopped with him, turning to look at the girl.

"Hello," he said. "Sorry, bit of a rush. There's a... There's a sort of thing happening. Very important that we stop it."

"Oh my god, it's you. It really is you," the woman replied. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at the Doctor as if he would take the time to explain who this was. "Oh, you don't remember me, do you?"

"Doctor, we haven't got time for this," Martha spoke up. "Migration's started."

"Look," the Doctor explained to the woman. "I've got a bit of a complex life. Things don't always happen to me in quite the right order. Gets a bit confusing at times, especially at weddings."

"Oh, you're rubbish at weddings," I added.

"I really am... especially my own."

"Oh my God, of course," the woman said. "You're a time traveler. It hasn't happened to you yet! None of it! It's still in your future."

"What hasn't happened?"

"You guys, please," Martha spoke up again. "20 minutes to hatching."

"It was me," the woman explained. "It was me all along. You got it all from me."

"Got what?" the Doctor asked.

"Okay. Listen. One day, you're gonna get stuck in 1969. Make sure you've got this with you. You're gonna need it."

I looked back and saw Martha's worried face before I muttered to the Doctor, "We really need to go."

"Yeah, we do," he nodded. "Sorry, things happening. Well, four things. Well, four things and a lizard."

"Okay, no worries," the woman replied. "On you go. See you around some day."

The Doctor and I took off before he turned around again. "What was your name?"

"Sally Sparrow," she grinned at us both.

"Good to meet you, Sally Sparrow."

There was a man who walked up to her. She looked at him as he gave us a stunned look. She grabbed his hand, said goodbye, and walked back into the store.

I chuckled. "That will make more sense later, I hope."

"Me too," the Doctor replied.

We both turned again to head towards Martha. I felt the Doctor reach for my hand, but I pulled back. I hoped that it could be seen as unintentional. As if I just didn't notice it.

"I like that name," I commented, trying to change the subject. "Sally Sparrow. Good alliteration."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Come on."

Everything else went off without any major incidents. It was a normal day. I thought that it was all over. Until we landed in the next place, of course.

We had just made it back to the TARDIS. The doors had just closed behind us and we were just getting ready to leave. And then, the TARDIS jolted to the side.

"What the hell was that," Matha asked.

I grabbed the screen nearby. "What the... Paradox energy."

"Paradox?" the Doctor moved to look at the screen over my shoulder. "Well, that's not good."

"A paradox?" Martha walked over. "Like in Back to the Future or something?"

"What," I asked.

"I'll show it to you sometime," the Doctor muttered to me before going to move around the console.

"Time isn't always perfect and linear, but it does have rules," I explained. "If one of those rules gets broken, it creates a paradox. Paradoxes can be small or large, deadly at times."

"What caused this one?"

"Not sure yet," I shrugged.

"We'll have to go check," the Doctor added, flipping a switch.

"Hold on," Martha said. "You just said that one of the rules of time got broken. That one of these paradoxes can be deadly."

"Yup," the Doctor confirmed.

"So, you're going to just land in the middle of it?"

"We're not fools, Martha," I promised. "We're going to land on the edge of it."

"Oh, for the love of-"

The TARDIS suddenly lurching caused Martha to cut off the end of her sentence. She grabbed onto the console.

We landed just outside of a gate. There was a path that clearly led from the gate to a large, abandoned house. On the fence was a warning to keep out. None of us paid it any mind.

The house itself had seen many better days. The outside was in mostly okay condition, but there were some parts where the roof and the wall were falling apart.

It was almost a cliche.

"Are we still at the same time?" Martha said as we walked down the path.

"No," I answered. "We're about a year earlier. There was a... spike."

She nodded.

The inside was no better than the outside had been. The wallpaper was falling off. Plants were beginning to grow within the house. Every piece of the floor was creaking. If the lighting fixtures weren't on the floor, they were hanging dangerously low.

"So, any remarkable ideas about this paradox," Martha asked.

"Not yet, but I can feel it... like it's buzzing in my fingertips," I said, stopping in the middle of the room and turning toward her. "Where's the Doctor?"

"Wandered off," she replied with a shrug. "How are you two?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Fine."

"That's it?" she chuckled.

"What else were you expecting me to say?"

"Something a bit more... I don't know... romantic," she suggested. "I thought you two would be deep in the honeymoon phase by now."

I raised an eyebrow at her this time. I knew what she was talking about. It was just easier for me to pretend that I didn't.

To be honest, things had been... strained since the two of us kissed. I couldn't tell how much of it was my lack of knowledge in that area and how much of it was simply my ever-suffocating guilt. I had meant to sit and think about that, but I simply never had the time. There was always something more important to think about.

Martha sighed and held up her hands. "Fine. I'm gonna go check upstairs for some sign of anything... paradox-like."

"Be careful!" I called after her.

"I always am!"

I turned back to the room, trying to find some sign of what could be going on. The first detail that I saw was some sign of spray paint under the wallpaper.

I stepped forward, going to pull the wallpaper off. I only stopped because I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. My hand stopped. I took a step back before slowly turning my head toward the window.

Standing there was a weeping angel.

I let out a shaking breath. I slowly closed my eyes before quickly opening them. It had moved forward.

"Doctor!" I shouted, taking slow steps backward. "Martha!"

I heard the floor behind me creaking. I quickly turned around, finding another weeping angel behind me. I turned back around, finding the other angel now inside. Those panicked motions were enough for the second angel to reach out and grab me.

I found myself standing in some kind of alleyway.

"No," I muttered. "No, no, no, no, no!"

I looked around before starting to walk. At some point, I would have to find something or someone.

It had only been a few minutes before I heard someone behind me.

"(Y/n)!"

I turned around to see Martha and the Doctor walking toward me. I let out a relieved sigh before running in their direction. I hugged Martha first. After I stepped back, I hugged the Doctor.

"Weeping angels," the Doctor said.

"Yes, I know," I replied. "I tried to tell you both but no one responded. You guys must have already been sent back."

"Anyone wanna actually explain this all to me," Martha asked.

"Weeping angels are creatures that basically feed off paradox energy," I explained. "They touch you, zap you back in time, and eat the paradox energy that's left from all the moments that don't happen."

"They can't move when you can see them," the Doctor added. "They freeze in place until you look away or blink"

"Okay... so how do we get home?" Martha looked between us.

"Well..." the Doctor dragged the word out.

"You don't know."

"Not yet," he muttered.

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking around us before speaking up, "What year are we in?"

"Um," the Doctor looked around, muttering to himself as he tried to figure it out.

Martha ran over to a nearby bench where a newspaper had been left on it, "1969."

I slapped the Doctor's arm, ignoring him when he complained. "That was the year that the girl at the shop told us about. The one with the really good name... Sally Sparrow."

"Alliteration girl!" the Doctor exclaimed before digging into his pocket. "1969. She gave us instructions."

I grabbed the folder from him, going to sit on the bench where Martha had found the newspaper. I flipped through it. It was a collection of photos and a letter. I held those out for someone to take.

"The letter is addressed to Sally," I said. "She knew someone who got sent back."

"What's this list," Martha asked, sitting next to me. The Doctor took the letter.

"Not sure," I replied, handing it over to her. "Nothing that I recognize."

My eyes landed on a typed-out conversation.

"Look at this." I held it out to him. "It's a conversation. Half of one, anyway. Sally's part."

"She's at the center of this, then," he muttered, taking the folder so he could read it over. "'I'm clever and I'm listening.' I like her."

"Would be nice to meet her when we aren't stuck without our TARDIS," I replied. "Who is she talking to? You?"

"Maybe. She recognized me at the shop."

"And you do talk a lot."

"Thanks." his response was sarcastic.

"I got it," Martha said excitedly. "They're movies. All of them!"

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"And that," she snatched the folder out of the Doctor's hands, "is a script!"

"Half a script," I corrected.

"Well, yeah, but we can figure the other half out," she insisted. "We just need to get the other side of this conversation onto these movies."

"How do we do that?"

"I... I don't know," she replied. "You two are the alien geniuses. I figured out the hard part."

"I never really looked into how humans make their entertainment." I looked at the Doctor. "Have you?"

"It's basic technology," he shrugged. "Getting the film made isn't the problem. The problem is getting the film onto everything on that list."

"We need an inside man," Martha suggested.

"Can't be the Doctor because he has to be in it, so people would get suspicious," I explained.

"You could do it," she said.

"I really couldn't."

"Yes, you could," she replied. "You're a quick learner. You'd know what you're doing."

"But this would take years. We don't have that long."

"What do we do then? Talk to someone in the industry and hope that they believe us when we say we were attacked by monsters that can't move when you can see them?"

"Or we could find someone who would be more inclined to believe us."

Martha's eyebrows furrowed at my suggestion.

"Wait for someone else to be sent back to us," the Doctor said, seemingly agreeing with me.

"That could take ages," Martha replied.

"Sally knew someone who got sent back," I argued. "Maybe that wasn't the only one. Might not take as long as you think."

"What about in the meantime?"

"Well, we'll need to find a place to stay. Shouldn't be too hard."

"Whose paying for that?"

The Doctor and I both stared at her before briefly glancing at each other.

"Oh, you two so owe me for this."

We ended up staying in a small flat near a shop that hired Martha.

She would go work through the day while the Doctor and I busied ourselves with a new device that was meant to help track down other people who came through.

It was a few days into this new pattern that the Doctor decided to turn the conversation away from our current predicament.

"Can I ask you something?"

I had been hunched over some small part of this new device. The Doctor had taken a moment to lean back in his seat a bit.

"Sure," I replied, not turning my head away from the machine.

"Did I do something... wrong?"

It felt as if both of my hearts stopped at the same time. I had to fight the urge to tense as I responded, "No, why do you ask?"

"I just... I thought that things would change."

I couldn't find a string of words that felt like they were enough to explain how I felt. None of them could provide him any comfort. I found myself stuck with nothing more than an uneasy silence.

"I thought that we were..."

"Were what?" I tried to remain disconnected from the whole thing. At the very least, I felt like it would push this conversation away for a little while.

"We kissed," he continued. "I thought that it meant something, but you're acting like nothing happened."

"It happened." I nodded. "It happened and... that's it."

"'That's it'?" he repeated. "(Y/n)... this wasn't something insignificant to me. I have no interest in that being it."

"Well, that's all it's going to be." I shrugged.

The Doctor didn't respond after that. He stared at me for a few moments before going back to studying the machine on the table.

I went to do the same, pretending to be completely unaware of the new and terrible tension in the room.

"I've got it," the Doctor muttered, pushing my hands away.

I sat back, staring at him for a few minutes before standing up. "I'm going to go out for a walk. You know how to reach me if something comes up."

He just hummed to acknowledge that he heard me.

I nodded before heading to the door.

I knew that I had handled the whole situation incorrectly. It was all just too new and sudden for me to have any other way to handle it. There was nothing I could say or do that would be good enough for that conversation.

Everything would be easier if things had just stayed exactly as they were.

My mindless wandering led me to the front steps of a library. I stared at the door. I don't know what compelled me to go inside. Maybe it just felt like I should've been there. Like there were answers to some questions that I had. The whole place was comforting during this time.

I was filled with this sense of comfort that I had never imagined before. I could imagine spending day after day after day there.

And I did.

I never truly thought about just how slow life would feel when the Doctor and I stopped moving. I didn't realize that I hadn't really stopped running since I met him.

Yes, there was my brief time as Jo, but that wasn't me. That was a different version of me. One that was much more equipped to handle a slow, dragging life. One that was going through significantly less emotional turmoil.

I busied myself with books. That library I had found had a very kind woman working there who offered suggestions to pass the time. Stories and art that I had never bothered myself with before. I read what I had been told were classics.

It was strange to fall into such a pattern. I could've gotten used to it, maybe. Under different circumstances. But this whole thing just felt odd.

The Doctor would sit impatiently at his machine. I would sit in some corner of the room, reading my stories and quietly hoping that the machine would finally make some kind of sound to fill the awkward silence. The two of us weren't talking much after our argument. Too stubborn on both fronts, I suppose.

Martha would walk in around the evening and ask what I was reading. She'd ask for any good news from the Doctor.

Over and over. Day after day. It was the same cycle.

Until there was a delightfully noisy interruption. The machine went off, telling us that someone had been sent back.

We all ran outside, Sally's folder in hand. It didn't take long to recognize that we were being led back to the alleyway that we had found ourselves in.

"How are we going to do this," Martha asked. "'Hi, are you from the future? Because we are and we have a job for you.'"

"Something like that," the Doctor said.

"Start with Sally Sparrow," I explained in more detail. "See if they know her. She might be the center of this whole thing."

"I wasn't being serious," he chimed in.

"I wasn't saying that you were. I'm just trying to make sure Martha is as prepared as we are. We should all be on the same page."

"Didn't think you cared much about that."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

I scoffed. "Sorry that I'm prioritizing the thing that is getting people killed. Didn't realize that was an issue."

He didn't respond, instead choosing to walk a little faster so he was ahead of us. I went to speed up so he couldn't get too far away.

"What's going on with you two," Martha asked, grabbing my arm so I'd slow down.

"What are talking about?" I said.

"Don't act stupid," she replied. "You two kissed. You told me. But now you two are acting like you can't be near each other. What's going on?"

"It's nothing," I shook my head, going to catch up with the Doctor.

"No, it's not," she insisted, grabbing my arm again. "You can talk to me, I promise. I can keep my mouth shut. Kept your feelings a secret, didn't I?"

"Martha," I sighed. "It's nothing. I'm fine. We're fine. Let's just... Let's focus on this. Please."

Her lips tightened. As if she had to actively hold back whatever comment was about to push through. She stiffly nodded and let me pull my arm away.

"(Y/n), Martha!"

The two of us looked down the way at the Doctor, whose back was still turned to us. I gestured toward him with my head. Martha nodded again and followed me down the alley.

We rounded the corner to find a man sitting with his back against the wall. He looked panicked and confused. The machine was going slightly mad when we found him.

"Welcome!" the Doctor greeted.

"Where am I," the man asked.

"1969," the Doctor replied. "Not bad, as it goes. You've got the moon landing to look forward to."

"The moon landing's brilliant," Martha added. "We went four times."

"When we had transport," I muttered.

"How did I get here?" the man interrupted us.

"Touch of an angel," the Doctor explained. "Probably the same one that sent us back since you ended up in the same year."

The man went to stand up only to be stopped by the Doctor before he could.

"Don't get up," he said as he plopped down next to the man. "Time travel without a capsule, nasty. Catch your breath, don't go swimming for half an hour."

"I don't... I don't understand."

I leaned on the railing in front of them both. "You got touched by a weeping angel. You probably noticed some big stone angel statues. Pretty fascinating really. They don't kill you directly. Instead, they send you back in time to whatever year they want and feed on the paradox energy that forms when you're gone. The potential energy of the moments that were supposed to happen but never did. They let you live a whole life, just not when you were supposed to."

"The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely," the Doctor added.

"What in God's name are you two on about?"

"They do this a lot," Martha said. "Just nod when they pause for a breath."

"Tracked you down with this," the Doctor continued. "My timey-wimey detector. Goes ding when there's stuff."

"I still don't understand." the man ran his hands over his face. "Where am I?"

"1969, like he said." Martha leaned on the railing next to me.

"We'd offer you a lift home, but our time machine got stolen by the angels." I shrugged. "We have a message that we need you to get to a woman named Sally Sparrow."

"Sally Sparrow? I know her! I just met her."

"Good, that'll make this easier for all of us."

"However," the Doctor spoke up again. "I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry. It's gonna take you a long time."

It felt like there hadn't been a moment to breathe after that. Getting the man a job to work on films was no trouble really. The psychic paper was enough for that.

Getting us on set was a new challenge but still ended up working out alright.

We snuck in during the middle of the night. Everyone in the studio had gone home by then. Billy, the man that we had found in that alleyway, had been very helpful. I think at some point, he knew that there was no good denying what had happened. He seemingly wanted to do some good while he was here.

And so, there we were. The Doctor sitting in front of a plain orange wall with the script and a camera in front of him. Martha and I stayed off to the side, watching as he read off his half of the conversation.

"How are you gonna know how long to wait?" Martha tilted her head. "Like between lines. How do you know you'll give Sally enough time to get her sentence out?"

"Didn't think about that," the Doctor muttered. "Guess I'll just hope for the best... gonna sound a little silly no matter what I do, isn't it?"

We both nodded.

"Good luck," I said, almost before I had a chance to stop myself.

The Doctor grinned at me. I let out a small sigh.

"Ready," Billy asked. The Doctor nodded.

It was as silly as it seemed. Small bits of a conversation that just sounded meaningless when there was no context to it. Had I not known the whole situation, I would've started laughing.

"I'm a time traveler. Or I was. I'm stuck in 1969-"

"We're stuck," Martha chimed in, leaning into frame. "I was promised all of space and time and now I'm working in a shop to support these two-"

"Martha," I pulled on her arm to get her to move back, trying to keep myself from chuckling at the whole thing.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

The Doctor fixed his suit before continuing on with the script.

"People don't understand time," he explained. "It's not what you think it is."

I thought about the lines that Sally had written down for herself. I grinned. She really was very clever.

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause and effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff."

I scoffed, hiding my face behind my hand. I barely caught sight of the Doctor's small glare focused on me.

"What matters is we can communicate," the Doctor continued. "We have got big problems now. They have taken the blue box, haven't they? The angels have the phone box?

"Creatures from another world... The Lonely Assassins, they used to be called. No one quite knows where they came from, but they're as old as the universe, or very nearly, and they have survived this long because they have the most perfect defense system ever evolved. They're quantum-locked. They don't exist while they're being observed. The moment they're seen by any other living creature, they freeze into rock. No choice, it's a fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing, they literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone.

"Of course, a stone can't kill you either, but then you turn your head away. Then you blink. And oh, yes, it can.

"That's why they cover their eyes. They can't risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their great curse. They can never be seen. Loneliest creatures in the universe."

I could make an argument against that statement but now wasn't the time.

"And I'm sorry. I am very, very sorry. It's up to you now. The blue box. It's my time machine. There's a world of time energy in there they could feast on forever, but the damage they could do could switch off the sun. You have got to send it back to me.

"And... that's it, I'm afraid. There's no more from you on the transcript, that's the last I've got.

"I don't know what stopped you talking, but I can guess. They're coming. The angels are coming for you, but listen because your life could depend on this. Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast. Faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink. Good luck."

And with that, the camera stopped. We bid our goodbyes and our best wishes to Billy and left the studio.

"So... what now," Martha asked.

"We see if it worked," the Doctor replied. "If the message got to Sally as it was supposed to, then the TARDIS should be on its way to us."

"At the old house," she concluded.

"At the old house." he nodded.

"Well, come on then," she pushed us both away from the studio. "Let's get out of here."

The house was still being built when we got there. It was mostly put together, but it was waiting on furniture and decorations and wallpaper.

"One last thing to do," the Doctor pulled out two small cans of paint and some paintbrushes as he spoke. I was always a bit jealous of his jacket.

"The message." I nodded. I grabbed the picture of it from the folder that Sally had given us. "Should go on this wall here."

"Won't someone just paint over it," Martha asked.

"Chances are that whoever comes to put the wallpaper up after we're gone will just see this as kids messing around," the Doctor said. "They're putting up wallpaper, no need to paint something so small."

She nodded.

I placed the picture down, leaning it against the wall.

"I'll start the top part. You start the bottom part," I explained, handing the Doctor a brush. "You have to sign your name on it anyway."

"Alright," he muttered.

Martha stood there for a moment, glancing around.

"I'm gonna check around the house," she said, turning to walk out of the room.

"Be careful!" I called after her. "Yell if you see anything!"

She didn't respond, probably because what I had said had seemed incredibly obvious to her.

I turned back to the wall. My eyes jumped between it and the picture of what Sally was supposed to find in the future.

I reached up, beginning to paint "Beware the weeping angels" as clearly as I could.

We worked in silence for a while. It was strange. I had grown used to there being some kind of rambling. The silence made my stomach twist.

I stepped away from the wall after finishing the first line, going to compare it to the photo.

"We need to talk," the Doctor said, still seemingly as focused on his part of the wall as mine.

"Is now the time for this?" I muttered. I couldn't avoid this conversation now. We were going to be here for too long.

"Yup," he replied bluntly, turning to look at me. "I don't like how we left things earlier. We haven't fought like that in ages."

"I know."

When that was all that I said, the Doctor continued, "Ages. We haven't argued like that since you hated me."

"Doctor, I know," I repeated as I looked at him.

"Then, you should also know why I feel like it's appropriate for us to have some kind of conversation about it."

I put the paint down on the floor. "Fine."

I paused when I saw the look in his eyes properly. There wasn't any anger or judgment. He just looked worried. Almost scared. It made me feel guilty for all of the anger that I had held toward him through the last few days.

"It's... It's Rose," I said.

The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed at me.

I sighed. "She was the first person that I could consider a friend. Before we got along, she was all I had. She helped me choose my name. She made me better. And I know how she felt about you and how you felt about her. I... I can't help but feel like I took something from her. It just... It felt selfish."

The silence after that was suffocating. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"I'm sorry," I muttered after a moment.

"You don't need to apologize," the Doctor took a few steps closer to me. I took a deep breath as he did. "I care about you. And I am willing to wait. As long as you need."

I took a deep breath. "I don't remember patience being a gift of yours."

"Well," he grinned. "Not always. But now... for you... it's worth it."

I stepped forward and hugged him. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Shut up and accept it." I stepped back. "We should finish the painting."

We were just finishing the last few letters when Martha ran in. "I found the TARDIS! It's in the basement."

"Yes!" I ran after her as she ran back downstairs.

A few moments later, I heard the Doctor running behind us. It was clear that he had waited for a few moments to finish up the message.

I cheered again as I laid eyes on the TARDIS. "Oh, I have missed you!"

"Oh, look at that beauty," the Doctor said. "Thought you'd never come back to us."

"Who wants to do the honors," I asked, looking at the two of them.

"Dibs!" Martha called quickly. "My turn to look cool."

I shook my head as I chuckled at her.

I looked back at the Doctor as Martha unlocked the door. He was already smiling at me. I smiled back, feeling a sudden calm settle over us both. It was nice to not feel so scared now.

The familiar creak of the TARDIS door made me look back at Martha, who was smiling proudly in the doorway.

"Let's go. I am happy to be out of... this year for a while," she said.

We followed her inside, letting out a collective sigh as the door closed behind us.

"What now," I asked.

"Well, we have the TARDIS back," the Doctor walked around the console. "And I'd suggest just flying off into the vast expanse of space, but... we have to make a small pitstop first."

"Of course we do," I muttered. "Cardiff?"

"Yup."

"What's in Cardiff?" Martha looked between the two of us.

"There's this little crack in the fabric of the universe."

"Originally, there were these gaseous beings using it as a door before a very clever woman sacrificed herself to close it," I added.

"But it didn't close all the way," the Doctor continued. "There's still a small crack. Like a scar."

"Park the TARDIS on it and the TARDIS can absorb the energy coming from it and use it to repair damage... like damage from the Weeping Angels trying to use it as an infinite food supply."

"Won't take long," the Doctor promised.

"Don't say that," I interjected. "Last time we did this, we almost dropped Cardiff into the rift."

"I'm sorry... what," Martha asked.

"That... was not our fault. No Slitheen this time." the Doctor said.

"Comforting," she muttered, sarcasm as clear as day.

I wrapped an arm around her, giving her a small side hug for her troubles. She grinned over at me as the Doctor ran around the console.

There was a new wave of calm through the TARDIS. Not the same kind of calm that happened after we made it out of some dire situation. This one was smaller, but still significant.

I could only hope that it would last long enough for us to truly enjoy it.

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[valaryswrites]

🪐 where tony baddingham wants you back.

warnings: (requests are open btw) pure fiction, no gender specified, dirty talking and english is not my first language. tony himself is a warning, tho. but again, pure fiction. scroll if you don’t like it. (requests are open btw)

You used to work with him some years ago.

No, not with him. For him.

You were his favorite screenwriter. His golden star. The only person he trusted enough to take some big, important decisions.

Then, you left. Left the country, and left him. There was a different project located on the other side of the world that you wanted to be a part of. And you were.

Tony let you go, knowing that sooner or later you’d be back.

“I’ll make you the highest-paid person in Corinium.” He said, trying to convince you.

“You know it’s not about money, Tony.” You told him firmly, crossing your arms over your chest and hoping he could understand. “You were insatiable. I’m afraid I won’t have enough creative freedom if I work here again.”

But Toby Baddingham hated the word “no”. He liked to think that everything in the world could belong to him.

“Come on, darling.” The man sighed, standing up from his fancy chair and approaching you. Not so close, though. “I can guarantee you all the freedom you want.” He promised. “We used to be a good team, you and I.”

You frowned, but there was a little smirk making its presence in your face. A team… a team? You used to fuck. Work during the day, fuck during the night. It was a routine.

“We weren’t a team, Tony.” You told him. “We were lovers.”

“Well, you used to make me come and I used to make you come.” He shrugged, both his hands in his pockets. “Doesn’t that make us a good team?”

You sighed again, and Tony knew he had to push further.

“Your potencial is wasted without me.” He assured you.

That wasn’t true; and Baddingham knew it as well. Your potencial was not wasted without him.

But hell, he did help. The money, the demands, the defiance. He did make you work better. Write better.

“You have hired plenty of new writers, I see.” You said, pointing to the empty desks outside his office. “Why you insist? Is it because I was the best you ever had?” That chuckling you let out after that last question made his blood boil.

“Of course I have to insist.” He firmly told you. “I know your potencial better than anyone else. I want you here again. To increase the rating and to remember the good old times.”

“To remember what, exactly?” You asked, aware of the answer.

“You know exactly what I mean, dear.” He took a step closer to you. “The late nights in this office, the discussions over your insane ideas, the mind-blowing sex we had…”

Ah, there he was. The Tony Baddingham you knew.

“It wasn’t that good to me.” You lied.

God, it was. It really was.

“You always seemed very satisfied.” He chuckled. Another step.

The way he was closing the distance between you and him was almost magnetic. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was a reflex. It used to be like that, during the the good old times. Magnets.

“Did you find another affair while I was away?” You asked. No shame.

“I’ve had other women.” He admitted. “None of them as good as you, of course.” Oh, that boosted your ego. “As eager and talented. I would have you writing wonders for me in the morning and riding me like an animal at night. It’s difficult to find an equivalent.”

You rolled your eyes, but that grin on your face was present. So, so present. He missed it.

“I miss your body. That bloody look on your face wanting to wreck me...” Tony exhaled, as if he was remembering the sight. “But I miss that beautiful, clever brain of yours too. And I want it back.”

Ugh, he was convincing you. You wanted the job. You needed it. And deep down you knew your writing was at its highest success when you were there.

“Highest salary.” You demanded, while your index finger pointed directly at his chest, almost touching it. “And you won’t turn down any of my ideas without trying them first.”

“And if I don’t like them?” Baddingham asked.

“You’ll give them a fair try either way.” Another demand. “Or I’m out. When did I ever do something you didn’t like, though?”

Not a good question.

“Well, I didn’t like when you left Corinium, and left the country, for starters.” He chuckled. “And left me, of course.” He said, in case you’ve forgotten. As if you could! “I would get into this office very morning and deal with some imbecile people, and then end up here, all alone, with no one to eat out over my desk.” The man teased. Another step closer. “I would sit on that chair, look at my empty desk and think of you kneeling under it…” He continued.

The bastard was making you picture all those things.

No.

No things; but memories. They were real once, during the good old days.

He was so close to you now that his hand traveled to the nape of your neck, and then back to your jaw, caressing you.

“Your pretty mouth, taking such good care of me…” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, and then sliding it barely into your mouth just to touch the tip of your tongue.

So you bit his finger.

Tony hissed, but that smirk on his face betrayed any type of irritation he might be feeling.

“Give me the damn contract.” You said, brows furrowed.

“Ah, that’s my girl!” Baddingham smiled widely for the first time in days. He handed you a stack of paper. “I’ll leave you alone so you can sign it.”

“I’m going to read it first.” You said, threatening him.

“Ah, you’ll be fine with it.” He assured you. “You start next week. 11AM to 6PM.”

“Everyone here leaves at 5PM.” You protested.

“Yes. But not you.” He giggled, about to leave the office. “You’ll work for an extra hour.”

“And you’ll pay me that extra hour.” You said, no question.

“Yes.” He nodded. “But just not with cash.” Tony Baddingham winked and left.

And you signed.

[ishomieokay]

✧❝Capillaries❞✧ (Ch.4)

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

✰ +18 tags//warnings - human au, rich!aziraphale, sex worker!crowley, dubious consent, past drug addiction, group sex, sexual exploitation, abuse of power, forced relationship, graphic description of murder, love triangles, more detailed tags on ao3.

✰ summary - To the residents of South Downs, Antony Crowley and Ezra Fell seem like any other old married couple. Two consenting gentlemen being so open about their relationship might raise a few eyebrows in this quiet corner of the world, but beyond that, they appear perfectly ordinary. Appearances, however, can be deceiving.

A companion piece of my Aziracrow Sex Work AU, No Pretty Woman Here. Read on AO3.

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

[messyworldfanfictions]

Teasing the Master of Hell

Summary : You're in a teasing mood while Crowley is in a bad mood. What happens when you tease too much and Crowley takes control?

Pairing: Crowley (Good Omens)/Reader

Warnings:  Dom/sub, anal sex, oral sex, cum, punishment, rough sex

A Notes: Hi everyone, this is for my Crowley thirst, hope you’ll like it :) !

The dimly lit interior of Crowley's luxurious penthouse was filled with a palpable tension as you watched the King of Hell pace back and forth, a dark expression etched onto his seductive face. Seated on the plush couch, you observed his restless state with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. It wasn't an everyday sight to witness Crowley in such a mood, and a mischievous idea began to take root in your mind.

"Something troubling you, Crowley?" you inquired with a voice tinged with playful teasing.

He shot you a piercing look, his sharp yellow eyes narrowing. "Don't start with me, Y/N. I have no intention of indulging in your games today."

You chuckled softly, leaning against the cushions. "Oh, come on. Surely you don't expect me to just sit here and watch you sulk. What's got you so worked up?"

Crowley sighed, running a hand through his slicked-back red hair. "It's simply... business. Nothing that concerns you."

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. "Business? Well, I've always thought that the King of Hell would have everything under control. Should I be worried?"

He growled under his breath, his growing irritation becoming more evident. "You know, sometimes you miss an opportunity to close that little mouth of yours. I always maintain control, Y/N."

You flashed a mischievous smile, undeterred by his veiled threat. "Oh, I'm just trying to lighten the mood a bit. Maybe I could be of service as a distraction."

Crowley halted his pacing and fixed you with an intense gaze. "You want me to use you as a distraction, my dear? Be careful what you wish for."

You raised your chin proudly. "Perhaps I do. And what do you plan to do about it?"

In a swift motion, Crowley closed the distance between you, his hand gripping the back of the couch and his face dangerously close to yours. His anger seemed to have transformed into something entirely different – a predatory glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

"You really should learn when to stop, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

Your heart raced, but you held his gaze unflinchingly. "Or what, Crowley? What are you going to do?"

Without warning, he pressed his lips against yours in a ravenous, possessive kiss. Your protest was muffled as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding over your waist as he turned you to face the couch. Your initial defiance faded as you surrendered to the intensity of his touch, the weight of his body against yours.

Crowley ensured your face was pressed against the couch, leaving you completely at his mercy. He gripped your hips, lifting them to give him unobstructed access.

"I'll behave like a gentleman, where would you like me, my little slut?" the demon's breath heated your neck.

"Please, take me from behind," you whispered breathlessly.

« Please, take me from behind." he mimicked you. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged, a moan escaping your mouth "Forget your clean language, you're a slut. You want me to fuck you in the ass. Say it, 'I want it in the ass, Crowley'."

"I-I want it in the ass, Crowley... Please. » you begged

With a raging thrust, he entered your tight ass and you cried out in surprise.

"You like this, pissing me off so I fuck you hard, don't you? "You could feel his thin hips slapping against your fleshy cheeks, the sound of your skins echoing in the room.

"Oh yes, Crowley... Harder." You moaned. He increased the intensity and you could feel the pleasure rising, you were about to cum when he pulled back roughly from your ass and grabbed you by your hair to get you off the couch and kneeling in front of him.

"Open your mouth, angel." he sighed as he jerked himself off over your pretty face.

You looked at him lovingly as you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue to receive his demonic seed.

He grunted and came in your mouth, and you swallowed while looking into his yellow eyes. A little of his cum had dripped onto your breasts, so you picked it up with your finger, put your finger in your mouth and started to suck it.

Breathless, Crowley leaned over and kissed you on the forehead. "I love you, you little brat."

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

prompt from @scealaiscoite

prompt: "please, i'm begging you. don't make me watch the nightmare before christmas again."

tags: @illiana-mystery, @fangsandroses, @onedirectionlovers2014

warnings: swearing, drinking

“Peter!” I yelled as Charley and Amy curled up on the other couch. “Get your ass in here!”

“give me a second asshole!” Peter yelled back, making the other couple laugh. “You’re making me carry all the fucking food. Least you could do is help!” Laughing, I stood up. Amy laughed as I slowly started to walk to where Peter was. “Fina-fucking-ly.” Peter laughed when I appeared on the doorway. I flipped him off as I grabbed the drinks and what I could of the food.

“Damn. Those kids sure eat a lot.” I laughed as we carried everything to the living room. “Alright. Foods on the table don’t kill us trying to get it. AH!” I screamed as charley lunged for the popcorn bowl, making amy laugh as she grabbed a drink from the other pile. “Fucking piranhas.” I muttered as I sat down next to Peter. He laughed as the younger couple settled in.

“what are we watching?” Peter asked.

“nightmare before Christmas.” Amy said, earning an eye roll from both males. Charley and Peter shared a look before turning towards their respective partners. Charley was talking to Amy in a hushed tone while Peter raised his eyebrows at me.

“darling, I love you. You know I do.” He took my hands and rubbed his thumbs over my knuckles. “But please, I’m begging you. Don’t make me watch nightmare before Christmas again.” I smiled softly at him.

“Pete, it’s not for me. Amy has never seen it and this is her pick.” I explained. Peter looked over at the other couple arguing and nodded. “After that you can pick whatever you want. I don’t care if it’s the bloodiest, most violent movie ever made. But please. Let her have this.” Peter nodded again.

“alright.” He whispered. “But this is the last time. After this, you have no excuses.” I nodded and Peter looked over at the younger couple. He whistled to get Charley’s attention. “Hey chuck! Drop it. We’re watching it.” Charley opened his mouth to say something but Peter gave him a look that made Charley nod. Amy looked over at us and smiled in thanks. “You know you owe me for this right?” Peter whispered in my ear as the movie started.

“yeah.” I whispered back. “That slutty Halloween costume you wanted me to wear to the hard rock party? How about I wear it just for you?” Peters eyes lit up and he nodded before kissing me.

“that’ll cover your debt.” He smiled at me before settling in to watch the movie.

[sailorvenusxoxo]

Demonic Bonding (Crowley x Male Reader)

Fandom:Good Omens Pairings: Crowley x M!Reader, Crowley x Aziraphale at the end Requests: Through the asks, and not comments, please ♡ Summary: You're a demon sent to survey Crowley's temptations, despite you two disliking each other. Aziraphale suggests a bonding session, to have you two tolerate each other better. Your minds misinterpret bonding. Warnings: Light smut, BDSM, swearing, author got cold feet by the end, collar, leather, soft aziracrow ending Word count:2.6k Requested by: @alexiyahyah , and @chrissydablsissy had also asked for something with Crowley, but not necessarily this. a/n (please read): So. I have no idea how to sum up my thought process shortly, but I'll try. By reading the Vulture Article, I was utterly disgusted. Distanced myself a bit, but still stayed in the fandom, because I love it so much. In my honest opinion, I now believe GO to belong to Sir Terry Pratchett, the honest actors and crew working, and the fans. It's my first time really writing GO smut. Read tons before, but not since the article. I don't know, I supposed that by doing this, I was afraid. I got a bit uncomfortable at first. What if people view this as insensitive? What if people misunderstand my intentions? But please be aware. I'm still a bit wary about writing smut on GO, but the fandom can't die. Some of us love it too much, to let this filth of a person ruin it. We can save it by our own fan works, not giving this man any once of recognition anymore, and simply support the victims, and try to make NG lose more and more money. Saw a blog talking about it. Either way... Love you guys a lot, I tried my best. I love Crowley and Aziraphale with all my heart, which is why I ended it on a soft note for them.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Do I look like a bloody…How do they call it? Kid-stander? Kid-sitter? Baby-stooder?”

You mumbled, looking at Beelzebub, your lips pursed in an annoyed fashion. Your mind and mouth were starting to ramble, as you tried to remember that human word they used, to address the person who watched over their heirs.

You sniffled softly, rubbing in your nose, avoiding snorting a fly by inadvertence. You were used to flies and other soiled things that composed the realms of Hell, but that did not mean you were fond of ingesting it. It buzzed down the current body you possessed, and Beelzebub was always extremely furious to lose a fly.

Beelzebub groaned in warning,  looking up at you with their rotting lips and their glassy eyes.

“And do I look like I’m politely proposing this to you? This is not damned Heaven. Though we all wish it was damned. We suspect the demon Crowley of not accomplishing his temptations properly. For a bit, we let it through, despite the proofs he may or may not be fraternising with the blasted angel from the east gate. But now, we can’t let it slip. We need someone to assist him, and it’s going to be you!”

Barked Beelzebub, their voice raising in anger and command. You sighed in sheer annoyance, more bored and disgruntled than remotely afraid. You had been planning on torturing a recently deceased French twat politician, famous for colonisation, racism, and other lovely things that brought him to this place, but it looked like you couldn’t. You cursed silently, regretting the fact that Hastur would be the one applying the Nazi torture to the politician, instead of you.

But as you were contemplating on hurrying your task to get back to the little torture chamber, Beelzebub mumbled, a bit confused.

“I don’t get this bloody fussing. Thought you two got along, or you were his fan or s’mthing. You’re dressed like a groupie.”

Your head snapped back to the Duke of Hell, an offended scrunch on your face.

“…A fan? Will people just stop about it, already?! May I remind you he wasn’t the first snake in the existence of things? Nor was he the one who first dressed like this! He’s just trying so hard to be this snake entity, with it being his entire thing, just because he was the snake who tempted Eve, but he’s ridiculous! He’s trying so hard he even named himself Crowley! Who the fuck does that?! He’s just desperate, I’m telling you-!”

You ranted, as Beelzebub rolled their eyes, already sending you off to earth, as you pestered to yourself. You had never really met Crowley, nor did you interact with him, but you knew that because of that blasted fallen angel, the snake appearance was now all his… Sure, his snake tattoo near his ear was not a bad idea, so you did it yourself, except on the collarbone, also adding it to the list of things you had claimed for yourself. But come on, he wasn’t the only snake demon. You were there too! Bloody bastard had taken the credit all for himself…

As you descended on earth, you reviewed the information Beelzebub had literally thrown at you, the inscriptions written on the dirty parchment, that you held in your bloodied hands.

‘Demon Crowley. Not try and trick him, may possess holy water. Seen fraternising through years with angel from the East gate. Make sure he accomplishes temptations. Reports.’

You scoffed softly, as the crappy, shaky, and dirty elevator let out a cough of blurting horrible static noises, announcing you had arrived in earth.

Obviously, you had landed in Aberdeen, Scotland, instead of Soho, London, England. Typical of the people handling the elevator, to make demons land close enough to act like it was mistake, but far enough to piss you off.

Oh, well. Just a simple… Fly would do, right? Or a little demonic miracle to land in London. Not like they’d notice down in Hell anyway, with how much miracles bloody Crowley was producing recently, always making the alarms beep, driving Hastur out of his blasted mind. Which you always enjoyed, let’s be fair (or not. It was bad to be fair. Well, not your bad, so- anyway!)

You suddenly appeared in the busy London street, hurriedly leaning against a railing on the street, avoiding an old style Bentley that was driving extremely fast. You cursed to yourself, since you had almost gotten discorporated, all of that by a lousy…

You stopped, frowning, recognising the car. An old-style Bentley…? Oh god, it was-

“I told them I didn’t need or want to see you!”

Crowley hissed at you, storming out of his car, pointing a slender finger at you. You rolled your eyes, grumbling, recognising him immediately. Once again, you and Crowley did not really know each other personally. But you knew of each other.

And let’s say you two were not keen on sharing the same style and flair. It may sound so childish and immature, but you were demons. You were supposed to not care for maturity or proper, so you two weren’t going to pretend you two liked each other.

“You think I enjoy being here?”

You hissed back, pulling your hair away.

“Damn it all, I had a fat Frenchie to torture down there, and they just assigned me to babysit you, simply because you can’t do your job well!”

You snapped, gripping the railing with one hand, your knuckles turning white. Crowley scowled, rolling his eyes under his round sunglasses.

“Right, right. Sorry, forgot you’re always down there in the slums. Bloody loam, getting your hands dirty.”

He snarled, looking at your dirty and bloody hands, with some dirt under your fingernails. You rolled your eyes, unimpressed.

“Was that the best you can do? Acting like the posh angel you skip around with, and notice the dirt?”

You snickered, a mocking smirk on your chapped lips. Crowley’s squinted, a new fury seeping even through his sunglasses at the mention of Aziraphale.

“Do not speak of him. Do not even mention him, you hear me? If Hell is sending you about this, I’ll-”

He started, before you scoffed, your red snake eyes staring at him.

“Christ almighty, I’m not here to tell you to break up with your angel boyfriend. You think I give a fuck on what you’re up to here, between 8 to 8? All I need is actual proofs that you’re doing your temptations, and I’ll get the fuck out of SoMo.”

You grumbled, shrugging, as Crowley pinched his lips, still tense and annoyed.

“…I suppose they won’t just do it with reports, they also need other proofs, huh? And Aziraphale’s not- And it’s Soho, not SoBo-”

He grunted, as you mumbled.

“I said SoMo, not SoBo. Perhaps you’d hear better if it weren’t for that horrid tattoo on your ear.”

Crowley stayed silent, simply looking at you with a defying glare.

“…Wanna follow me around all day, like a bloody puppy? Fine. But no comments or other interactions. And just… Let’s say a week. It’ll satisfy them for a bit. And wear sunglasses, damn it! Humans will see your eyes!”

He snapped, walking away from you to a sort of old bookshop, that you reckoned to be the angel’s. You grumbled, cursing about the sunglasses, but still getting out the one you brought. You reluctantly followed him, crossing the busy street, looking slightly around. Last time you were around earth, it was… 1986, you reckoned? You had been checking in on new trends and stuff, for a bit of holidays from the Hell chambers, had even done some business with some slimy snarky TV magnate, Lord Baddingham or something.

Either way, you hurried to the store, your shoes clinking on the concrete, before entering the bookshop. Your nose scrunched at the unusual, pleasant smell, a mix of vanilla, coconut, and some monoi, along with the lingering smell of old books. This entire place, as large as it was for a bookshop, simply screamed of ‘Angelic’, and you were slightly disgruntled by it. Your throat hurt a bit, at all the pleasant smells, and you reluctantly walked in, as Crowley nonchalantly walked in, as if he owned the place, his pace always reminding of the tempting serpent he had been, before the first woman of Earth.

Should have been you.

Your eyes fell on a cozy, large royal red chair, where stood a fluffy blanket, with a pillow. It was angled directly to the sun, letting a ray of sunlight on the spot. You noticed Crowley’s eyes, despite the glasses, lingering quickly to it, and you scoffed to yourself. The lucky bastard… he must have relaxed so often here, simply lounging in his serpent form, embracing the warmth.

As your eyes still glared at it, visibly trying to burn it through thoughts, a person came in. Well, not a person. You immediately sensed it was the angel. Whether it was the white hair, the blue eyes, the fond wrinkles on his face, or the softness of his cheeks or his body, it was disgustingly angelic. This man was an angel.

“Oh, Crowley! This your guest, then…”

Aziraphale nodded, addressing a polite nod to you, as you blinked, a bit stunned at the angel’s reaction to you. Crowley grumbled, scoffing, laying his jacket on a sofa.

“Stop the teasing, angel. Y’know I don’t want him there. He’s just… there. For a week, minimum, time to give Hells the proofs.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a second, his eyes looking to Crowley’s, as he took off his sunglasses. The angel’s gaze seemed almost fond and amused, as he tutted.

“We talked about this, Crowley. With the amount of time, he’ll be spending here, might as well be making it more comfortable. You two ought to bond!”

Aziraphale grinned, nodding, as you cringed. Ugh, you remembered bonding. And as fun as it had been, you did not picture it with Crowley.

Crowley blinked, also taken aback by the angel’s proposition.

“Uh… Bonding? You are sure, angel?”

Crowley almost murmured, a bit stunned. Aziraphale proudly nodded.

“Yes! I’m sure you two can do it and simply create strong bounds! It isn’t that hard, when the effort is put it in.”

The angel confirmed, as the demon stood there, unconvinced.

“Were you the one who started this trend, anyway?”

Asked Crowley, as you both looked at his leather accessories and gears, up in his fancy modern flat.

You nodded, lips pinched, analysing each detail of the gears, begging to find a fault in it, just to spite him.

“I was. Well, BDSM was always a thing, humans can be kinky little things. I just put a name on it, made it more famous, and added the leather aesthetic.”

You explained, nonchalant, thinking back of numerous fun memories you had made on earth in the 80s, shocking some humans, and tempting others.

“Which you copied.”

You added, in a little jab, grabbing a collar with your bloodied hands. Crowley rolled his eyes, grabbing a whip himself. You stared at it and frowned.

“The leather’s worn. Throw it away. You’re fussy about plants, but not leather?”

You scoffed, scolding him, as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, piss off. You think this what I do all day?”

He grumbled, as you sighed, taking the collar off the wall.

“Let’s just wrap it up, hm? A little session, in all of hell’s ways, and maybe then we won’t discorporate each other in the next few days.”

You mumbled, heading to put the collar around his neck, your hands grazing against his neck, as he frowned.

“I’m the submissive?!”

He noticed, almost appalled, as you raised an eyebrow.

“…I’m supposed to watch what you do. So…Yeah, you are.”

You observed, rolling your eyes, hooking the leash to his collar.

“M’kay. You know everything, hmm?”

You asked him, as he scoffed softly.

“We’re not humans. I don’t believe we need to have the whole conversation about consent and boundaries with each other. Good on you for introducing it to them, which is odd for a demon, but we don’t need it.”

He said, as you raised an eyebrow, softly gripping it.

“…Piss off. Humans, demons, angels, no matter what entities, consent is the most important thing. I won’t touch you, unless you specifically say you accept, and want it.”

You gritted through your teeth, adamant.

“I don’t care if it means loathing this whole week. I won’t budge on consent. No nothing, without consent.”

You grumbled, as Crowley pinched his lips, looking away for a bit. He was hesitant. Not towards what he wanted, but perhaps over what he was willing to admit.

“…I consent, and I want it. I’ll be the submissive. My safe word is… ‘Be-bop’.”

He stated, as your eyes squinted. Huh, Be-bop.

“…Be-bop.”

You echoed, nodding, before gently tugging his leash down, to have him on his knees.

“…Are you ready?”

You asked, your voice surprisingly soft, as Crowley squinted his eyes, a bit surprised, but nodded.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You kept him bound to you, for a while. Tugging on the leash when you wanted, earning soft grunts from him. You couldn’t understand why, but it was working. When your red eyes looked to his yellow eyes, you felt it. The pool of heat in your abdomen, and the lust that came over you, crashing like a wave.

Limbs were tangled together, as the smell of the leather and his cologne remained between you two. Blows were struck, soft and hard, mixing pain and pleasure. You gripped his hair, he gripped yours. His hand wrapped itself around your neck, as you tugged on his collar.

Your lips also found each other, in this mess of leather and sensations, in a surprisingly soft lock. It was working. You were bonding.

Your fingers caressed his back, tracing the scars from his lost wings, as you feverishly bit and grunted at his shoulder.

It had ended with actual binds, and actual poles. Just two bodies in fusion, working against the others, wrists and ankles tied together, simply bonding, until you both fell asleep, to your own surprise. You had forgotten about fatigue and sleep. But it was a pleasant feeling, after the panting, the sweating, the marks, the leather, the words, the gestures… To simply fall asleep on him, bound.

________________________________

Crowley woke up, feeling something stirring at the binds. At first reluctant and wary, he opened his eyes, finding none other than Aziraphale, beside the bed, softly untying the binds.

“…Angel?”

Crowley croaked out, surprised to see him. Aziraphale looked at him, his blue eyes bright due to the sunlight. His smile was as soft as usual, though there was hint of cheekiness to it, like whenever he was about to mock Crowley, and thought of a thrilling joke.

“Just so you know, I had meant a light lunch, or perhaps some baking, to bond. Not this.”

Aziraphale remarked, softly sighing, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“But I supposed it worked. Which I’m glad for. The result is the same, as you so often say.”

Crowley snickered softly, looking at Aziraphale.

“…Yeah, it worked. And you’re… You’re here.”

Crowley remarked, sounding nonchalant, though his eyes were everything but this.

“…Yes, I’m here.”

Aziraphale confirmed.

“I suppose… That at the end of the day, no matter what or who, it always is just the two of us.”

Perhaps it always was, yes.

[super-predictable98]

Always an Angel | Casanova AU

Part 1: Helpless/Satisfied

Word Count: 2 k

Warning: Strong language, mild sexual content, mention of blood

a/n: Hey you guys! So as promised some more David Tennant content for you. Casanova is one of my fave roles he ever played and it always hurts me to see how he ends. So in this story, you get to pick the ending! My retelling will include my OC and at one point of the story, you will be able to choose what happens to her and Casanova. Thank you so much for your support and enjoy (also more Good Omens coming soon hehe)

(Masterlist)

"This dress is itchy, Henriette!" Angela grumbled. She had complained about every single aspect of her look. The hair was too tight, the shoes hurt her feet, the dress was too itchy, and the jewelry was too heavy. 

Angela was still learning to navigate girlhood, she was only a few months short of turning sixteen and her older sister, Henriette had been dragging her along to parties and gatherings so she could prepare to enter high society... or at least infiltrate it. 

"You're beautiful, Angela, once you look in the mirror you'll be happy I dressed you up in the way I did," Henriette chuckled. "Besides, it was a present from Grimani, the best way to thank him and show your appreciation is to wear it."

"I don't know anybody here, I want to go home!" The girl whined, looking around at all those new faces was very intimidating. 

"That is precisely why we're here, so you can know these people and find yourself a good husband in the future." 

That's when Angela saw him, a tall gentleman wearing the most beautiful teal jacket that matched his blue eyes. His smile was contagious and his charm poured out of his mouth with every word he said. His features were sharp, but he wasn't intimidating, he looked like the most approachable person in the vicinity. 

"He has dimples too..." she breathed to herself.

"Who?" Henriette asked, immediately spotting the man her sister had her eye on. "Angela, he's much too old for you!" 

Just as the older sister scolded the younger, the man in question caused a stir, getting himself punched in the face within five minutes of the first conversation he was able to start. 

"Grimani! Bugger off!" Angela screamed, not caring how unpolished that made her seem. She rushed to help the gentleman that captured her attention. "Oh dear, you're bleeding! Come here, let me help. What is your name?"

"Giacomo Casanova, may I ask what is yours?" He groaned, accepting her hand. His eyes already traveled around her figure which definitely did not reflect her age. Anyone who laid eyes on her would think she was at least eighteen or twenty. 

"Angela D'alvitas, it is a pleasure to meet you," she took him away to a water fountain where she could wash the blood from his face. 

"The pleasure is all mine, my lady," Giacomo smirked, trying to look brave despite hurting. "Hope you at least enjoyed the show."

"Oh, I loved it, next time you should punch Grimani back, that would make it even better. He certainly deserves it for squeezing me into this hideous itchy gown." 

"Glad to be of service, at least I amuse you." 

"Your jacket, that is Chinese silk? It is gorgeous." 

"Yes, it is, good eye! And good lips, and good hands, and good..." 

"Careful with your words, sir!" Henriette rushed towards them. "My sister might look like a grown woman, but she's only fifteen." 

"Sixteen in sixty-eight days!" Angela yelped. 

"Jesus Christ! You are fifteen?" Casanova's eyes grew. "I apologize, my lady, I did not mean any disrespect. You just look... more mature than you turn out to be." 

Angela gave her sister a death glare. How could she ruin their perfect moment like that? There was nothing the girl desired more at that point than to be disrespected by Casanova. 

"He's not even a real gentleman, sister," Henriette quirked an eyebrow knowingly at him. "He might look like one, but it is all pretending."

"I admit it, it's an act," Giacomo sighed, now setting his sights on the older sister, who looked very much like Angela. Same dark hair, same big doll eyes, same tempting cherry lips.

"You must remember that everyone else is also pretending, you just need to lie with conviction," Henriette smiled, fixing his jacket to get her hands under it. "Stand tall, chin up, act better and you will become better. See? Quite the gentleman." 

"Quite the lady, your mother is sure to be congratulated for her ability to create beautiful daughters," Giacomo smirked again. 

"That is quite enough, goodbye now," Henriette left, dragging her sister along. "Oh, and one more thing... trust no one." 

She waved the money she stole from him in the air, it was an old trick she had performed multiple times, being a very skilled pickpocket in her youth. 

"That's my purse!" Giacomo shouted.

"Henriette! Give it back! We don't need it!" Angela ran after her sister angrily. "Well thank you for ruining my chances with him!"

"You are a child still," the older sister laughed once they were far away. "When I said you should find a husband, I meant a rich one!" 

"I would much rather get a loving one."

"Then you are looking in the wrong place. Did you notice how he looked at us? How he talked? His heart falls in love with a different woman every single day, he is incapable of being loyal to only one."

"I don't believe it... I saw it in his eyes, despite his armor, he is a good and honest man."

"A good, honest, and unwealthy man who can't give you the future you deserve."

"The future I deserve is up to me, sister," Angela said firmly, snatching Giacomo's purse back. "Now I need to find him and give this back."

**

Angela took every opportunity to leave the house. Before, she would much rather stay in and read books, but now all she wanted was to catch a glimpse of Casanova. Even her mother was starting to find her behavior odd.

She went to every party, every dinner, soirée, and social event she could. And in every single one, she simply ignored everyone else, discreetly watching and admiring Giacomo from afar. He barely noticed, busy making his connections. 

His popularity was growing, he was gaining more money with his scams that always ended up being more legitimate than he originally planned. 

He posed as a lawyer, a doctor, an astrologist, and many other things... the outcome was always the best possible for both parties. 

"You know, the Viscount has a son about your age, Angela," Henriette said, gesturing to the boy who sat in the corner looking bored. "He is quite handsome, isn't he?"

"He looks as dull as a butter knife, sister. Besides I am no longer a child, I'm nearly an adult," she smirked, having turned sixteen the week prior. 

"Every boy is dull at that age, but he will grow up and if you win over his affection now... maybe your future is secure," Henriette said. 

"I bet he wasn't dull at that age," Angela turned to look at Casanova, who was playing violin for a small crowd. "Now if you'll excuse me..." 

The young lady made her way to watch more closely and clapped once he was done. 

"Good evening, Angela," he smiled when she caught his eye. "Happy birthday, sorry I could not attend your party, I was studying a case." 

"That is not a problem, you have been working so hard. That is the mark of a true gentleman," she grinned. 

"About that, I caught wind that you have been giving my name to every single person you hear needs any sort of expert," Giacomo chuckled. "Is that true?"

"May be true..." 

"You are truly an angel, you know that?" He gently kissed her forehead. "Thank you." 

"It's the least I can do after my sister so rudely stole from you... I do apologize on her behalf once again." 

"Oh, no apology necessary." 

"You are quite amazing with the violin." 

"This old thing? I just picked it up, how does it even work?" He joked. "Do you play anything? It's good to start learning when you are still young." 

"I am not that young, Giac, I am not a little girl anymore," Angela rolled her eyes. "And yes, I actually play the harp." 

"That is a lovely instrument! Very hard to play as well, consider me impressed..." 

"You're impressed? You're the one who made your way to the top lying so well that everything you touch turns to gold." 

"Not my fault I was born clever. Show me a book, a map, a language, a libretto... I will not just learn it, I'll use it," he smirked.

"That must be how you win over the ladies, I have heard that many of them find themselves gravitating towards you. I do not assume that they only like your looks and cheap innuendos."

"My lines seem to work on them. Besides some other attributes that I might be inclined to tell you about in a year or two." 

"You are filthy!" She gaped.

"Ladies seem to like that too!" He laughed.

"Angela! There you are, you keep escaping whenever I try to ask about your dress for the wedding," Grimani called, followed by his bride. "Oh, it's that man again." 

Grimani looked at Casanova with such disgust, that one would think he was staring at a pile of rubbish or a full chamber pot. 

"Are you following me? People will talk," Giacomo teased. 

"You are not that unlucky, this knobhead has been following me all day..." Angela grimaced.

"And here you are, Casanova, flirting with a girl who is barely out of leading strings?" Grimani sneered. "Shame on you."

"No, he isn't. We were only talking and I am old enough to get married if I want to." 

"No one treats Miss Angela with more respect than me, I am utterly afraid that my purse might be stolen again if I ever lay a finger on her," Giacomo winked at Henriette, who seemed terrified of her fiancée finding out about her tricks.

"You should surround yourself with better company. This man has the look of a manual worker about him. What is your profession, Casanova?" Grimani asked. 

"I am a... Spy," he said and Angela chuckled. 

"A spy?" 

"Yes, a spy, that's me, the spy. Being a spy I should not announce that I'm a spy, but..." 

"But I suppose you can prove it?" 

"What? You want me to spy on something?" Giacomo joked, looking intently ahead. "Look there's a canal, there I spied it... look, still there... oh, and again!" 

Angela laughed even harder at that and Henriette also could not resist, which filled Giacomo with pride.

"I take it you're laughing at him?" Grimani huffed angrily.

"Absolutely," Henriette nodded sarcastically. 

"I did not know the lady was engaged," Giacomo tilted his head. 

"Unfortunately," Angela groaned.

"Now that I have your attention, let us talk of the dress," Grimani took both ladies by the hand. "My mother had questions about the colors."

Angela looked back over her shoulder at Giacomo, her heart racing more than it ever has. She was a woman, but the entire world didn't see her as such.

Later that night, when getting herself a glass of champagne while her sister wasn't looking, she heard the most interesting conversation:

"I heard he's courting Angela like a fool," one lady in a blue gown said. 

"Casanova? Courting Angela?" her friend in the purple gown seemed amused by the idea.

"Yes, no amount of dedication or wit can help him this time, I fear. From what I heard, he is playing the long game. He's been moving slowly, but it seems every single time they talk, there's the matter of the sister. Her older sister is like a hunting hound, isn't she? Always keeping the girl locked up, she is never allowed to be alone with him."

"I did hear about that... I imagine he will get what he wants one time or another, it is Casanova, after all. He always gets the lady in the end, but I hear this time he's quite persistent. He thinks of nothing else, he is being consumed in desire, can't sleep, can't eat. All because of this lady."

"All because of this lady," Angela repeated to herself with the biggest smile on her face, already planning the next step.

[chelsieb]

My favorite smug bitch 😇💛

[hansoeii]

Supreme Archangel Aziraphale and Duke of Hell Crowley.

This piece was a commission for @moonyinpisces's fanfiction "how do we turn on the light?" on Ao3! Had such a blast working on this!

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil, David and Michael on fanfiction :) ❤

Neil Gaiman:

David Tennant:

Michael Sheen:

[bi-bard]

Reckless - Tenth Doctor Imagine [Doctor Who]

Title: Reckless

Pairing: Tenth Doctor X Reader | Rose Tyler X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,274 words

Warning(s): canon-typical violence

Summary: [Christmas Special (2005)] The Doctor's regeneration has left him unconscious for the unforeseeable future. Now, with an invasion on the horizon, (Y/n) is pushed onto the frontlines on their own for the first time.

Author's Note: I did a poll to decide what episode I should write about next and this episode won. I hope I've made you guys proud. If you have a doctor/series/episode you want to see in the future, just let me know.

Y'all. I need you to trust me here. I know what I'm doing.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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

It was as if there was no pause between the burst of regeneration energy and the Doctor's attempt to fly the TARDIS.

As if nothing had happened at all.

But it was clear that something had. Something fundamentally had changed about him. Some wires were still waiting to be properly connected. I could see it. It was in how he was stumbling and frantically glancing between things on the console. He wasn't ready. Not yet.

"Doctor, move," I said, stepping toward the console.

"I- I'm just trying to land," he replied, still scrambling.

"I know, but you are fresh off of a regeneration, this is-" my sentence was cut off by the TARDIS jerking to the side harshly. "Doctor, get away from the console, now!"

He stopped as soon as I raised my voice at him.

I moved around him, flipping a few switches to try to undo some of the chaos he had caused. I wasn't doing a great job, but I had most of it under control. There was one more crash before the machine finally stopped moving.

I ran over to Rose, who had fallen during the earlier chaos. "You alright?"

"What... What's happened to him," she asked quietly. "What's this regeneration thing?"

I watched the Doctor go stumbling out through the doors. "I... I'll explain in a bit. As soon as I know that he's not going to do something stupid."

I ran outside, making it through the door just as the Doctor fainted. I glanced between Jackie and Mickey. They both stared at me in shock. I knelt down, checking that he was alright.

"What happened," I looked up to see Rose in the doorway. "Is he alright?"

"Should be," I replied.

"He just keeled over," Mickey added. "Who is he? Where's the Doctor?"

"That's him," Rose explained. "That's the Doctor."

"What do you mean, that's the Doctor?" Jackie said.

"I'll explain in a bit, but can we first get him inside, please," I pleaded.

It took a bit of work, but we managed to get the Doctor upstairs and into bed. I don't know how they did it, but they managed to get him into a pair of pajamas while I was searching around the apartment for something that could help.

"I... I don't wanna know," I muttered when I walked into the room and saw him. "Do you have anything I can use?"

"Like what," Rose asked.

"Stuff to check vitals. Anything will be better than nothing."

Jackie let out a gasp. "I've got something. Be back in a tick!"

I barely had a chance to blink before she went running out of the room. I sat down next to the Doctor, letting out a small sigh as I looked at him.

"Are you going to explain what's going on now?" Rose muttered, leaning on the doorframe.

"He regenerated," I said. "It's a normal process for Time Lords. The body senses that it's near death and finds a way to fix itself. Losing consciousness like this isn't entirely normal. It happens sometimes. Usually, it means the whole process wasn't complete during the initial regeneration. His cells are still burning and regrowing. They're settling."

"But he'll be alright?" she replied.

"I hope so," I mumbled.

Jackie ran back in a few moments later, rambling about some neighbor of hers. She handed me a stethoscope. I placed the ends in my ears before pressing the flat piece to his torso, moving to check both hearts.

"I still think we should take him to a hospital," Jackie noted.

"We can't," Rose argued before I could. "They'd lock him up. Dissect him. One bottle of his blood could change the course of the human race."

"But-"

"You would trust human doctors with no experience of this situation while I am here and the only being alive that shares his anatomical makeup," I asked.

"I didn't-"

I shushed her, going back to listening to the Doctor's hearts. "Good. Both working fine. We'll just have to wait."

"Both?" Jackie replied.

"They've got two hearts," Rose explained. "Each."

"Really?"

I nodded.

"Anything else you lot have two of?"

"Ew," I murmured. "Come on. We need to let him rest. Finish the process."

Rose sighed, pausing a moment. "Could make tea?"

I chuckled. "Is that just a natural human response? Making tea when things are going wrong?"

"Mostly just the English," Jackie shrugged.

I nodded. "I see..."

I followed the two of them out of the room. As soon as they made it to the kitchen, Jackie seemed to be berating Rose with questions when she should have been asking me. Rose didn't know anything about this. She was already dealing with so many emotions. It wasn't fair.

"Stop it," I said firmly. "If you have questions, ask me. Don't torment her."

Jackie huffed. "I just want some answers."

"Rose isn't gonna have them," I replied. I looked at Rose, who looked back at me with tears in her eyes. "Hey..."

"I thought I knew him," she muttered. "I thought me and him were..."

The way her voice trailed off broke my hearts. I took a breath before speaking, "He may have changed, but his memories didn't. Who he cares for, what he believes in... they're built on more than his physical form. Those kinds of things are built on experiences. His favorite food might change, but not something as deep as his thoughts and feelings about you or me or anyone. He'll most likely still see you in the same way he did."

I was caught off guard by her hugging me tightly. I hesitantly wrapped my arms around her, closing my eyes as she hid her face in my shoulder. There was a long silence as we sat in that hug.

She leaned back, wiping her eyes. She looked at her mother. "The big question is... where'd you get a pair of men's pajamas from?"

"Howard's been staying over," Jackie replied, turning back to the counter.

"What, Howard from the market?"

I chuckled a bit as I turned around. I had never known a race to spend as much time gossiping as humanity. In some strange way, I admired it.

I glanced at the TV in the main room. "Is that Harriet Jones?"

Rose followed me out of the kitchen when she heard me speak up. "Why is she on the telly?"

"She's Prime Minister now," Jackie explained. "I'm 18 quid a week better off."

"Britain's Golden Age," I said quietly. "This is it."

"That's what they've been calling it," Jackie shrugged. "I keep on saying my Rose has met her."

"Did more than that," Rose replied. "Stopped World War III with her."

I furrowed my eyebrows as the report carried on. "Space probe... humans... always reaching for more."

"I thought you'd be a fan of exploration."

"As long as it doesn't draw in any unwanted attention."

Rose and Mickey left later that evening. Something about Christmas shopping.

I split my time between checking on the Doctor and awkwardly trying to help Jackie while she rambled on the phone to a friend.

It all felt... slow. Time was something that I was used to being able to somewhat ignore. It wasn't an important factor to me. I could bend it to be as fast or slow as I wanted, but now... all I could do was wait. Sit and wait.

It was infuriating.

It was a little while later that Rose and Mickey barged in, yelling at Jackie to get off the phone. I furrowed my eyebrows at them.

"What's going on," I asked.

"It's not safe. Someone- something is after the Doctor," Rose explained quickly. "We've got to get out. Where can we go?"

"My mate Stan. He'll put us up," Mickey suggested.

"That's only two streets away" Rose replied. "What about Mo? Where's she living now?"

"I don't know, Peak District," Jackie answered.

"We'll go to cousin Mo's then," Rose replied.

"It's Christmas Eve, we're not going anywhere!" Jackie exclaimed. "What are you babbling on about?"

"Where'd you get that tree," Rose asked. "That's a new tree. Where'd you get it?"

"I thought it was you," Jackie said.

"You accepted a new tree when you didn't know who sent it?" I chimed in. She paused for a moment. "Get the Doctor to the TARDIS and we can go anywhere in time and space. Escaping to a different planet will be better than a different... district or whatever."

The lights started turning on. And then, the branches started spinning.

"Go, now!" I shoved them all out of the main room.

Rose sprinted into the Doctor's room. I followed her, shoving Mickey and Jackie in with me. The two of them shoved a dresser in front of the door while I started rummaging through the pocket of his leather jacket.

I let out a relieved breath when I found the sonic screwdriver.

It was perfect timing.

The robotic tree had broken through the door. The others had quickly backed away from the door.

I picked up my arm and pressed the button on the screwdriver. I shielded my face as the tree blew up.

"You guys alright," I said, scrambling to the other three.

They all nodded, each clearly still in shock about the entire event. I made it to the Doctor, checking his pulse to make sure that he wasn't somehow hurt during the whole event. He seemed fine... and then I saw a puff of regeneration energy escape from him.

"No," I muttered to myself. "No, no, no!"

"What is it," Rose asked.

I ran outside, stopping at the railing when I saw a collection of Santa-looking robots standing on the ground below us. Rose was right behind me, along with the other two.

"What are they?" she whispered to me.

I shushed her quietly before lifting my hand, pointing the sonic screwdriver at them. They seemed to recognize the situation they were in. They moved closer to each other and teleported away. Presumably back to their ship.

"They've just gone," Mickey said. "What kind of rubbish were they?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I mean, no offense, but they're not much cop if a sonic screwdriver scares them off."

"They're pilot fish," I replied. "They're being controlled by something else... someone else. Like the tree. Toy soldiers, robots."

"And that gold dust we saw?" Rose pushed.

"Regeneration energy," I explained. "I... I didn't think he was releasing it and now that I didn't see it, I don't know how long or how much he's expelled. Time Lords are powerful and there are creatures who know that."

"They can find him?"

"Pilot fish were what attacked you earlier, weren't they?"

She nodded.

"That's why. They found out where the energy was and knew that they needed to destroy his 'guardians' to get to him. Either use him or kill him or... just experiment on him. We walked away from something that we weren't meant to survive. There are a few species with a few questions."

"What do we do?"

"Nothing. You lot go inside. Protect yourselves. Watch telly, have tea, do whatever it is humans do in a crisis that they can't fix."

"What about you," Rose asked, going to grab my arm.

"I'm going to the TARDIS," I explained. "If there are pilot fish here, then there's something coming. Something strong. I need to figure out what it is."

"You're just gonna go running off?"

"If I need to, yeah."

"I'm not gonna let you do that!"

"It's not your choice!"

"And why is that?"

"Because I am not going to be the one to get you killed!"

She froze.

"Go inside. Take care of the Doctor. Let me handle this."

I turned and walked away before she could say anything else.

I made it to the TARDIS. I scrambled around the console. I found faint traces of the regeneration energy. Along with it was the signal from the new space probe that had been sent up earlier that night. I furrowed my eyebrows. That couldn't be right.

I watched the signal's trajectory. It had been lost at some point. It was around the same place that the regeneration energy seemed to disperse.

"Who is up there..."

I flicked a switch, tuning into the news about the space probe. I saw the head of the mission scrambling, trying to explain away the loss of contact.

"You are terrible at de-escalating," I muttered.

It was then that the signal was interrupted. Through the static came an image of four creatures. I leaned in a little bit closer. The creature suddenly growled at the screen and then the image was gone.

"Well... shit," I murmured, frantically reaching for a few more buttons.

It was a matter of minutes before Rose stormed through the door. "Did you see that?"

"Yes," I answered. "How's the Doctor?"

"Pale, sick."

"Oh...," I mumbled. "It's okay. He'll be okay."

Rose looked down for a moment. "What... What was that thing?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "I didn't get a clear enough image. But... I know something. I was tracking the trace of regeneration energy that the Doctor has been emitting and it is going to the same place as the probe's signal is coming from."

"So... mars?"

"No," I shook my head. "The probe never made it that far. It's 5,000 miles above it. It's a spaceship. The probe is onboard and they're tracking the energy, coming this way. That puts the entire planet at risk."

"Can't we go stop them before they get here?"

"No. If they're looking for a Time Lord, then handing them a piece of Time Lord technology would be reckless at best."

"But if they get to the Doctor-"

"I won't let that happen!"

"Are you sure? Because you don't seem to be doing much to stop them!"

"Rose, they will kill you. They will kill me. They will kill the Doctor. We don't know what they want, so I'd like to not hand them one of the most sophisticated pieces of space and time travel equipment to ever exist!"

She huffed and turned around, going to storm out.

I closed my eyes and dug the heels of my palms against them.

I was just trying to protect her... protect everyone. I just... I didn't know how to do that on my own. I had become so accustomed to having someone to bounce my ideas off of. I was lost. Stuck. I didn't know what to do yet.

I had spent ages continuing to try to get some kind of answer when the screen turned to static again.

Those four aliens were there again. One of them started speaking again, but the TARDIS wasn't translating.

"Hey, hey," I said quietly. "I know that I'm not him, but I'm still Gallifreyan. I can still fly you. You can still work with me."

The video replayed. This time, the voices were translated. "People, you belong to us. To the Sycorax. We own you. We now possess your land, your minerals, your precious stones. You will surrender or they will die. Sycorax strong, Sycorax mighty, Sycorax rock!"

"'They'," I repeated the word to myself. "Who are you talking about?"

I tried to search for any sign of who they could be talking about.

It was hours before another message came through. One of the Sycorax stuck their hand out. A blue light emitted from it. The image disappeared after that.

"Nice to know that humanity wasn't slow to do something stupid," I muttered to myself. It was a harsh assumption, but it was a valid one.

I ran outside only to be met with a crowd of people walking by me. I furrowed my eyebrows as the blue light shined around their heads. I saw Rose up on the landing outside her door. We shared the same look with each other.

I followed her and Mickey to the roof of the building.

There was an entire fraction of the population standing on the edge. Each seemingly ready to jump. I stepped back, running my hands over my face.

"What is it? What's going on?" Rose said, grabbing my arm.

"I... I don't know," I mumbled. "It... I have an idea but... it can't be. I want to believe that the top minds in your country are not stupid enough to do something that would allow it."

"What is it?"

"Mickey, can you still get access to the military's files?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, of course, I can."

"I need you to get any information you can on that probe. Now. I can't work on it on my own."

"He left us," Rose muttered. "This is the time when we need him the most and he left us. He left... He left me."

"Rose, look at me," I grabbed her hands. "I have known the Doctor maybe as long as you have. I know one thing though... he is never going to abandon you. I promise."

"How do you know that?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Mickey chimed in before the conversation could continue, "Come on!"

We ran back down the stairs to the ground level. As soon as we had made it outside, I turned to Mickey, "Go get your computer and then come straight back here. We'll work in the TARDIS. Rose, you're gonna go up and watch the Doctor. If something happens, then you call-"

My instructions were cut off by a loud boom. Any glass nearby had broken, shattering all over the ground near us. I covered my head and squatted down to cover myself, yelling for the others to get down as well.

"What the hell-"

"A spaceship just entered your atmosphere," I said as I scrambled to stand up. "Sonic wave."

"What do we do," Rose asked.

I looked up as the spaceship flew overhead. It stopped just above us. "Get the Doctor to the TARDIS. Now. It's the safest place for him now. I'm sorry that we didn't do it sooner, but we need to move."

I watched as the trio scrambled to get the Doctor and Jackie's supplies into the TARDIS. She ran out to get the rest of the food, even though I yelled at her not to go.

"What now?" Rose said.

"I... I'm not sure," I replied. "I'm... I'm not usually the only one coming up with ideas at this point."

"But you're clever. I've seen you; you are clever. You... You were said you were trained for wartime."

"A war. I was trained for a war on one planet with different conditions and tools and-"

"And they never taught you to adapt? To do... I don't know... peace talks and things?"

I paused for a moment. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

I leaned forward and flicked a switch.

"What was that?"

"I let out a signal. There's no way the TARDIS would be able to land on the ship, but I could get them to teleport the TARDIS onto the ship."

"You're gonna talk to them."

I nodded. "I'm gonna try... see if that theory of mine was correct."

I took a deep breath, going to walk toward the doors. I rolled my shoulders back and tilted my chin up a bit. I pulled the door open, letting out a sigh of relief when I found myself on the spaceship.

Harriet Jones was standing there with her assistant.

"Harriet Jones," I said, a grin forming. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

"I could say the same to you," she muttered, hugging me. "Is the Doctor with you?"

"Not exactly," I replied as I stepped back. "But if you trust me, I can handle this."

I stepped ahead of the group, facing the Sycorax leader as bravely as I could.

"You. You have the clever box," the presumed leader spoke up.

Harriet's assistant tried to translate for me, but I stopped him. "I can understand him."

"How," Rose asked.

"TARDIS has a stronger psychic connection with the Doctor but I am still the same species as him. I may not be able to expand its reach like he seemingly can, but I don't need him to be able to use the translation."

"Silence!" the Sycorax shouted.

"Alright," I muttered.

"You speak for this planet!"

"Yes."

"You will understand my wishes."

"Surrender, correct?" I replied. "Basic signs of obedience in your eyes. Harriet, what did he ask for? Some of the population?"

"Half," she answered.

"Half to be used for their own benefit," I turned back to the Sycorax. "Half to be used as slaves in exchange for letting a third live."

"Correct," the Sycorax said.

"Why Earth?"

There was a silence.

"There are millions of planets that are far more advanced. That," I pointed at the TARDIS, "isn't human technology. There are other planets more beneficial to you, if you're looking for resources. And many are ready for the taking. These people are barely scratching the surface of space exploration and you're exploiting it. There's a whole planet renowned for being quick to surrender, why not go there?"

"We want the Earth," the leader said.

"But why," I pushed. "Why can't you just leave these people alone?"

He didn't respond.

"And then there's the third of the population," I continued, going to step around him. "I have a theory of course, but... oooooh, great."

I ran up the steps.

"Look at that! A big red button! Control matrix. Tell me, if I look under here, will I find a little bowl of blood?"

"Step away from that!"

"Alright," I held my hands up before leaning down, going to open the center console.

"That was English," Rose said.

"Well, yes, Rose, I speak English," I replied, still looking at the control matrix. I dipped my finger into the small bowl. "A+!"

"No, the Sycorax spoke English. I understood him," Rose explained.

I stood up, turning to look at her. "What?"

"He... He told you to step away from the controls, right? I understood him!"

"That means the TARDIS is translating for you again," I took a few steps closer.

The TARDIS doors behind them creaked open, revealing the Doctor in his pajamas and a robe.

"Took your sweet time, didn't you?" I crossed my arms.

"Could say the same to you," he shrugged as he stepped out.

The Sycorax tried to attack him, but it didn't work out well. Instead, the Doctor grabbed the weapons that the creature had and simply tossed them away. Being fresh off regeneration energy either made him stronger or dumber, I wasn't certain which one yet.

"Now, give me a moment. I am busy," he said to the leader before turning to the group of four that was now behind him. "Mickey! Hello!"

That was the happiest he had ever been to see Mickey.

"And Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. Blimey, it's like This is Your Life."

"Harriet Jones, Prime Minister," I corrected.

"I see," he grinned. "Tea! That's all I needed. A good cup of tea."

I almost chuckled at the idea.

If there was one thing about the Doctor that didn't change at all, it was his ability to talk. He ranted and rambled and jumped between different tones of voice. He talked about little he knew about himself now. He was a clean slate with nothing known yet.

I had regenerated before, but I had never thought about the process before. Truly, I never had the time. I was kind of thrown from one thing to the other. Getting confused after regenerating never made it onto my schedule.

"Doctor," I called from the steps.

"Yeah?" he turned to me. "Oh, I interrupted you. Go on. Bet you were doing brilliantly."

"Oh, you didn't interrupt at all," I shook my head. "It's just that, well, if I were to find a big red button, then I would know better than to press it. However, a Time Lord fresh off a regeneration may not be so rational... considering he's figuring himself out and everything."

"You're right," he replied. "Does the very rational one happen to know what the button does?"

"It's operating a blood control system."

"No!" he exclaimed excitedly, running over to me. "I haven't seen blood control in years."

"I've only read about it. Similar to hypnosis, yeah?"

"Exactly," he nodded. "When'd you work that out?"

"It was a running theory when I saw everyone on the roof. If they could control any chunk of the population, then why would they not make it half alive for a half enslaved? Why only a third?"

"Oh, you are so clever."

"I know," I shrugged. "So... what do you think?"

"Well, here's the danger with a freshly regenerated Time Lord," the Doctor looked at the Sycorax. "I truly don't know who I am. So... if I see a great big threatening button which should never, ever, ever be pressed, then I just wanna do this."

The Doctor slammed his hand down on the button.

I heard the others yelling at him.

"You killed them!" Harriet's assistant said.

I turned to the leader of the Sycorax. "Are they dead?"

"We allow them to live," he grumbled.

"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes. "He couldn't kill them. He had no choice. When I said blood control was like hypnosis, I was being honest. You can't hypnotize someone into doing something that they'd never do such as kill themselves. Humans operate on an evolutionary basis that forces them to protect their genes, so the fight-or-flight system kicks in."

"Everyone's okay," Rose asked.

"Everyone's okay," I nodded.

"Blood control was one form of conquest," the leader spoke up. "I can summon the armada and take this planet by force."

"Which brings me to my question again, why? Can't you just leave them alone?"

"Or what?"

"Or... I'll stop you."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

I looked at one of the soldiers next to me before rushing over and grabbing the sword on his waist.

I stepped back, getting away from the crowd.

I poised the sword out toward the leader. "I challenge you."

"(Y/n)," the Doctor scolded. The Sycorax laughed loudly as he stormed over to me. "This is incredibly stupid. Reckless."

"No, it's not," I replied. "This is what I was trained for. I existed before you met me, Doctor. You need to remember that."

He stepped away from me slowly.

"You're just gonna let (Y/n) do this?" I heard Rose mutter.

"I can't stop them," the Doctor replied.

I looked at the leader of the Sycorax again.

"Am I right that the sanctified rules of combat still apply," I asked.

The leader unsheathed a sword of his own. "You stand as this world's champion?"

"Proudly. Do you accept my challenge?"

The crowd roared around us.

We both took a knee, swords next to us.

"For the planet?" the leader tilted his head slightly as he spoke. He was taunting me.

"For the planet," I confirmed.

We stood up.

I could barely remember who actually took the first swing.

I was beginning to realize that I hadn't been in a fight so similar to what I had originally been training for.

I could just remember the technology, the instructions, the fake wounds. It was as if with every swing, my blood started boiling more and more. I hadn't felt like this in a long time.

I could remember the days when I felt that every day.

Fake Daleks, fake Cybermen, fake monsters, fake gods. I could see them all so vividly. In between the visions were the familiar flipping of pages and frantic searching and reading. The tests and quizzes and practices.

Oh, I was furious. It was making me sloppy.

I ran onto the outside platform of the ship as I found myself getting angrier and angrier.

I needed to be able to focus on one target. I needed to bring myself back to the current moment. To recognize that this was not fake. That this was not every evil being that I had been forced to face, but was one being. One thing that wanted to have more power than he deserved.

I also needed to get out of the crowd as soon as I could. That crowd could turn on me the moment I won. My victory could last a matter of moments before they turned on me entirely.

I learned how much the leader of the Sycorax valued straightforward aggression. He wanted the anger. The yelling and wild thrashing that seemed more calculated than they were.

I had learned long ago how to adapt to someone like that.

This means that despite any scratches and bruises, I was more in control than he thought.

So, when I squatted down and swung my leg so I could knock him off his feet, he was the only one surprised.

I stood above him, only leaning down to throw his sword as far away as I could. I pressed the tip of my blade to his throat. His head was hanging off the platform. I could have turned him into an example for the entire human race and Sycorax alike.

"I win," I said.

"Then, kill me," the leader's words were hoarse.

"I was raised as a weapon," I explained. "I was created to fight. To stop any threat that could have come my way. But mercy... I had to learn that. And it took me so long to perfect."

I pushed a little harder.

"So do not take it for granted when I offer it to you now," I warned. "I will spare your life as long as you listen to this command. Leave this planet and never return. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Swear on the blood of your species."

"I swear."

"Good."

I stepped back, pulling the blade away from the leader's neck.

I turned around to see the Doctor walking over to me already. I let him pull me into a tight hug, making sure to keep the blade away from either of our bodies.

Rose ran out just behind him. I smiled widely as I went to hug her.

"I told you that you could do this," she muttered to me. "I told you that you were clever."

"Thank you," I mumbled back.

She stepped back.

"We should go. Now."

The Doctor smiled for a moment. "Sounds like- (Y/n), look out-"

I turned around. The leader came running at me, shouting as he went to attack me. I slammed my blade through his torso. I pulled the blade up and twisted it slightly.

"I warned you," I murmured to him before shoving him down. I dragged the blade out of him. "I... I tried to warn you."

"Hey," Rose touched my back. "Come on. It's done. It's over."

"No. Not yet."

I stormed into the main hall, staring up at the collection of Sycorax. I slammed the sword into the ground.

"I am this planet's champion, and you will heed my command. You are to leave this planet and never return for the rest of time. And I would advise you to take this battle as a warning. A warning that you will spread among the stars. As you speak of Earth and its people and all that it could offer, ensure that you tell them all that this planet is- and always will be- protected."

The Sycorax's teleport sent us all back to the surface after that.

I watched in silence as the ship began to fly away. I let out a shaky breath as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

"(Y/n)," I turned to the Doctor.

"I killed someone," I murmured. "Directly, I mean. I... I wasn't just there. It wasn't some misguided attempt to save him. I killed him-"

He shushed me as he pulled me into a hug. "I want you to listen."

I closed my eyes, listening to the rumbling of the above spaceship. The sound of Rose and Mickey cheering cut through. Sharp and deafening in the best way. I heard Jackie's voice join them. Thankful and caring and proud.

"I hear hope... joy. I hear the cheers of the very people you just saved. Now, imagine that sound echoing all over the world. All of them. Safe because of you."

He stepped back, holding my upper arms.

"I'd say that's an alright balance, wouldn't you?"

I felt my lips tugging up as I thought about it. Yeah, maybe-

Any hope I had was shattered with the sound of an explosion. It silenced any cheering. Any joy. It was loud, violent, terrifying.

I looked over at Harriet. She stood there with a sullen expression painted on her face.

"What the hell is wrong with you," I asked. "They were leaving!"

"You said it yourself," she replied. "They go out and tell the rest of the universe about us. What happens when you and the Doctor aren't here? When another race decides that they want Earth?"

"You think that you're so important that it justifies murder-"

"Yours was?"

"I never wanted to do that! I wanted to show mercy! I wanted them to have the chance to make the right choice! Do not use me as an example to justify your monstrous behavior!"

She had no response to that.

"I shouldn't have just said to leave. I should have told them to run. Run as fast as you can because here comes humanity, the true monsters! The species ready to destroy anything different than themselves!"

I was almost screeching by the end of it. I felt the Doctor move his arm in front of me. I must have moved forward without thinking much of it.

I stepped away, turning to the others. Rose hugged me, muttering how sorry she was.

"I should have stopped you," the Doctor said.

"What does that make you, Doctor? Both of you? Another alien threat?"

"Don't challenge me, Harriet Jones, 'cause I'm a completely new man," he pushed. I stepped away from Rose, turning back to Harriet. "I could bring down your government with a single word."

"You're the most remarkable man I've ever met, but even you aren't capable of that."

"No, you're right," the Doctor replied. "Not a single word. Just six."

"I don't think so."

"Six words."

"Stop it!"

"Six."

He stepped around her. He walked to her assistant, muttering something into his ear. He came back to us.

"You go back with these three. I'll meet you there," he explained to me. I furrowed my eyebrows. "I can't very well keep walking around in pajamas and a robe."

"Fair," I chuckled. "See you in a bit."

"You too."

I followed Rose, Mickey, and Jackie back to the apartment.

They forced me to go sit down while they got dinner together, only letting me join them when the table was set.

"I could've helped," I said when I sat down.

"Well, we couldn't let the planet's champion make their own meal," Mickey replied. "Now, eat."

I chuckled and shook my head.

The door opened a few moments later. I turned to look at the Doctor. He was wearing a suit now. Dark brown with a light button-up and a tie. He had a long trench coat on now. He grinned at us before coming to sit at the end of the table.

I found myself faced with Rose holding out some roll of something. It was wrapped in green foil with gold and red details. I furrowed my eyebrows at it.

"Grab that end," Rose instructed. "It's a Christmas cracker. This is a very human thing. Like the tea."

I was hesitant but listened to her anyway.

"On three, pull toward you," she continued. "1... 2... 3!"

I tugged the roll toward myself. I flinched a bit as it popped. I found myself with most of the roll in my hand. I moved it, looking inside.

I found a crown made of tissue paper. It was yellow. Bright yellow.

"Put it on!" Rose pushed.

"Okay, okay," I replied. I placed the crown on my head, struggling to get it to stay in place. The Doctor reached over and fixed it for me. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he muttered.

Rose pointed at the TV. "It's Harriet Jones."

She was rambling, trying to defend staying in office. I looked at the Doctor. He gave me a look that simply said 'don't ask'. I turned back to the screen.

That was until Jackie pushed us all outside.

I almost froze in the door at the sight of what seemed to be snow. It was as I stepped on it that I realized that it wasn't. It was ash. Leftover ash from the spaceship still burning up.

I closed my eyes for a moment before looking around me. I saw people. Couples and kids and whole families running around in it. They were laughing. Cheering. Spinning and celebrating.

There it was again.

That sense of hope.

That very small shred of it that made me feel like I needed to hold onto it as tightly as I could.

"(Y/n)," I turned to the Doctor. He was standing next to Rose, holding hands with her as they both looked at me. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Absolutely."

He grinned before going to open the door.

I let out a small sigh as I followed them both inside.

One shred.

That was all I needed.

Or... all that I was going to have... for now.

If I wanted more, I had to go find it.

And yeah, I was absolutely ready to do that.

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Author's Note: I would like to take a moment to thank everyone for reading and accepting this OC. I know I play around with canon and I promise it is only going to become more evident as we go on. I have this OC planned out through Flux, just to give you an idea of how committed I am to this OC and their story. They have been through many of iterations before this one and I am so happy that this is the version that resonated with people. Thank you for your time and care. I promise that it is recognized and appreciated. I'll see you all soon!

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[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.

[ishomieokay]

✧❝Capillaries❞✧ (Ch.3)

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

✰ +18 tags//warnings - human au, rich!aziraphale, sex worker!crowley, extremely dubious consent, past drug addiction, group sex, non-graphic description of a gang-bang, verbal humiliation, dehumanization, drugged sex, jealousy, controlling behavior, gaslighting, forced relationship, more detailed tags on ao3.

✰ summary - To the residents of South Downs, Antony Crowley and Ezra Fell seem like any other old married couple. Two consenting gentlemen being so open about their relationship might raise a few eyebrows in this quiet corner of the world, but beyond that, they appear perfectly ordinary. Appearances, however, can be deceiving.

A companion piece of my Aziracrow Sex Work AU, No Pretty Woman Here. Read on AO3.

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

[honeylullaby]

“I’ll be gentle, angel.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by @nebulastarr / Rupert discovers it’s readers first time.

18+ FANFIC / SMUT. Reader character aged at 21.

Hopefully isn’t too disgustingly dirty, or too long. Rather let myself get carried away. • indicates the beginning of the smut. Please request more if you want to see more! 🩷 Can do longer pieces.

“Good evening, Mr Campbell-Black.” You rehearse aloud, having placed a gentle knock on the regal front door of Penscombe Court, the clock ticking just past 10pm. No, far too formal, you decide.

“Good evening, Rupert.” You chime once again, self-cringing as the words fall loosely from your mouth.

“Good evening, angel.” You hear a gruff, distinguished voice reply. Pure embarrassment ripples through your body as your eyes dart immediately to the effortlessly handsome man stood before you. Before you could reply, he pushed the door ajar to let you in to his magnificent home. By instinct, you make your way to the lounge — where the flames dance and crackle in the fireplace and cast an amber glow against the two freshly-poured tumblers of Scotch. “Drinks already?” You ask, sitting on the sofa and attempting to take us as little room as possible.

Not once averting his piercing gaze from you, Rupert takes a seat next to you and takes a large swig of his Scotch. “Helps to loosen us both up. Stop any awkward conversations.” He replies, undressing you with his eyes already. “Tell me, angel,” Rupert begins, “You have been here 3 nights in a row now and haven’t even so much as looked at me in the wrong way. Why is that?” He finishes, in an interrogating tone.

The silence thickens around you both, and the warmth of the fire wraps itself around you like a comforting hug. Shuffling the cardigan off your shoulders, you take a gulp from your drink and, for the first time, hold eye contact with Mr Campbell-Black. “Because… I know what you want from me. And that scares me.” A tiny voice replies that you recognise to be your own. How pathetic! You need to exude confidence around Rupert before he chews you up and spits you out. Without replying, Rupert pushes out an almost sarcastic-sounding laugh and lowers his head towards his right shoulder, cracking it in the process, and again towards the left.

•

“Darling, you’ve got nothing to be scared of.” He smirks, after what feels like an eternity. As he speaks, he places a gentle hand on your knee and blood rushes to your cheeks, immediately flushing them a bright crimson. It’s now or never — the inner voice in your head speaks as you stand up in front of him, and shimmy out of the figure-hugging black dress, stepping out of it and kicking it away from you.

For once in his life, Rupert is speechless as he takes a moment to drink in the picturesque image in front of him. A woman built of soft, fleshy curves and intricate lines, held together by red lingerie — an elaborately woven bra and thong and black suspenders held up with black garters. The best piece you owned, ready to be christened by Rupert’s yearning fingers peeling them from your body. “Wow angel.” He manages to spit out, eyes unmoving from the marvel image of your body. He sits at the edge of the sofa and smothers his face amongst your breasts, breathing in the feminine aroma of your skin. “You have no idea how hard you make me.” He adds, pulling back to rip the shirt from his body.

Now it’s your turn to marvel at the man that is Rupert Campbell-Black. Bulging veins sitting atop rippling muscles. Carnal lust aflame in his eyes. And, most importantly, the most impressively large bulge growing in his trousers. After you had wiped the drool from the corner of your lips, you lay yourself down on the sofa. Within seconds, he had stripped himself of his trousers and was leaning over you, propping himself up with one arm. The look in his eyes told you all you need to know. Inching backwards, he pulled your thongs from your body, revealing how terribly wet you’d became from his stripping. “My God.” Rupert smirked, instinctively delving his tongue between your folds. Arousal left your lips in laboured moans, and your fingers gripped a handful of his jet black locks. “You’re so fucking wet.” He spoke, pulling himself away and taking a hand to his cock, stroking it slowly and readying himself to enter you.

“Rupert…” You whisper breathlessly, scared and reluctant at the sheer size of his manhood. Readying yourself, you place your hand on his cock, pushing his own hand away and matching his rhythm. “I don’t know about this.” You mutter.

“Why? Don’t be scared, angel. I won’t bite… Unless you want me to.” Rupert chuckles, and pushes out a moan at the soft touch of your hand. Rupert grabs the base of his cock and lines it up with your soft opening. He attempts to shove himself in, but within seconds, winces in pleasure at the tightness. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Rupert… I’m…”

“Darling, you’re so tight.” He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. “Are you?…” He asks, not wanting to make assumptions. Is it really that obvious? “Rupert, this is my first time.” You speak gently under your breath. Closing your eyes momentarily and expecting to hear his condescending chuckle, you quickly open one eye to see a soft smile across his mouth.

“I’ll be gentle, angel.”

He replies earnestly, and with pinpoint precision, softly pushes his way inside you. Looking up at him, you capture a glimpse of something you’re certain no one has ever seen before. Rupert Campbell-Black encapsulated in complete ecstasy. “Fuck.” He manages to spit out, his words fighting for power over your ever growing moans. With each thrust, you felt the knot in your stomach loosen. Rupert’s eyes were glazed over in pleasure as he tenderly thrust in and out of you.

“If this is how wet you get for me, you must come again.” He spoke breathlessly, grabbing handfuls of your breasts as he spoke against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “Fuck, Rupert, please go slow.” You splutter, wincing ever so slightly, stretched out completely around the girth of him.

“Sorry, darling. Is this better?” He asked, tentatively making his strokes slower. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes in euphoria. Tension builds slowly in your lower stomach as his large member managed to hit the right spot every time. “You feel incredible.” Rupert manages to speak, as the intensity of his thrusts slowly speeds up. You can feel him twitching inside of you. You cannot believe you have just lost your virginity to THE Rupert Campbell-Black.

Flipping yourself over onto all fours, you positioned your shapely arse as an offering for the rugged man, and he grabbed a firm hold of your hips and began thrusting himself into you. Moans escaped your lips faster than you’d have liked. With each pulsating thrust inside your body, Rupert drew nearer and nearer his orgasm. “Cum inside me,” You pleaded, almost begging him to release himself. “Please, Rupert, I need it.”

Rupert placed a gentle fingertip to your lips, then ran his thumb across your tongue, desperately wanting to feel every single inch of your body. His abs tensed and twisted — his body preparing for his release. “Fuck angel, I’m going to cum.” He spat, and a smirk pulled at your mouth. Never in your life have you been so ready for anything. “Cum. Cum for me, Rupert. I need it so badly.” You reply, bringing your arm to his level to scoop up his balls and inch him closer to ecstasy. He paused for a moment, and pushed out a low grunt. You felt his cock twitch and pulsate as spurts of his hot load shot deep inside you, so much so that it began to drip outside of you with every weakened thrust from Mr Campbell-Black. “Fuck… Oh, fuck.” Rupert exclaimed as he pulled his dripping cock from your wet spot, and you lowered your mouth to lap up every missed drop of cum. You had never seen him to enamoured in desire. You wanted to please him this intensely every time — you and only you. In a pool of sweat, Rupert collapsed next to you and huffed out a sigh of relief.

“Angel, you were incredible. Thank you.”

[izarph]

Because i'm a good Old-Fashioned lover boy .

[sailorvenusxoxo]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Broadchurch Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Alec Hardy/Original Female Character(s), Alec Hardy/Tess Henchard, Alec Hardy & Daisy Hardy, Alec Hardy & Tess Henchard, Alec Hardy & Original Female Character(s), Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller Characters: Alec Hardy, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Tess Henchard, Ellie Miller (Broadchurch), Daisy Hardy Additional Tags: Mentions of Violence, Mentions of SA and Rape, Police, Case Fic, Slow Burn, veryyyy slow burn, not even about romance to be fair, mutual obsession, Insanity, PTSD, Angst and Tragedy, Angst Summary:

While Alec knew of the justice to be flawed, he wasn't one to allow any regular citizen to simply take the arms themselves, and go on a killing spree.

A case, with a Sandbrook Alec, where multiple rapists are slowly getting hunted and killed. A case that takes over Alec's entire life. A case that obsesses his mind, with it's grey areas and morality. A case that Alec is adamant on solving, despite no one believing his current suspicions.