#doctor who reader insert

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Can I Hold Your Hand? (11th Doctor x GN!Reader)

Maybe actually writing a blurb? This can't be. Shock.

Anyway this series finally has a name! My Doctor Who x Genderfluid!Reader series is officially named Changing Faces, Static Hearts and just in time for me to be too lazy to write any of the serious stories I wanted to write for it so you get stupid blurbs like this🙃 I'll find the energy eventually, maybe when word dies down a bit.

according to it's place in the series Reader is technically male here but it's not mentioned so I'm putting it as GN

Wordcount: like 200

27) "Can I hold your hand?"

28) "There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person"

You'd been in a lot of very strange situations with the Doctor. You'd been kidnapped, snowed into a haunted hotel, almost married (twice), you'd even met another version of yourself(long story) but you had yet to be wrapped in the tongue of a giant reptilian monster, smooshed against the man who's big mouth had gotten you wrapped in the slimy tongue of said reptile.

"Y/N?" The Doctor asked.

"Yes love?" You asked in return, your face stretched in exasperation.

"Can I hold your hand?" Asked the Doctor. You could feel his slime covered palm worming it's way closer to your own hand.

"Why?" You asked.

"Because I feel like your mad at me and I was hoping if we were holding hands you'd be less mad at me" The Doctor said, trying to pry your clenched fist open to insert his palm against yours.

You took a deep breath.

"I'm not mad at you" You said.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his floppy hair was stuck to his forehead as wind blew in your faces. The monster holding you was running and had been running for at least 15 minutes. It had yet to so much as slow down.

"I'm sure love"

"Then why does your face look like that?" He asked and you took a deep breath.

"Because there is no way so much stupid can fit inside one person" You said.

"Oi!"

[daydreaming-of-doctor-who]

could you do a fic about the reader being stuck with the master and missy on the solar farm during the doctor falls?

A/N: Gladly! I love myself a Multi-Master episode <3

Another Day on Floor 0507 - Simm!Master & Missy x Reader

You were starting to lose track of time and the days. How long had you all been here again? Things had become quite the chaotic mess, but then again, when wasn't it when the Master was involved? You had learned that and not minded it.

For awhile now you had yourself staying inside the farmhouse with the Master and Missy, both adamant about keeping you away from the ramblings of the Doctor and the drama of his companions.

You sighed. "How much longer will we be here? I'm bored."

The Master had been excited about meeting his future female self. Meanwhile, Missy seemed to be not that thrilled about him at all.

"It seems you haven't been taking good care of our pet." Missy commented, shaking her head at her past self. "We can't have that. Something will have to be done about this."

She quickly got up from where she had been sitting, attention fully on you, blue eyes shinning with some kind of plan. There was no denying that smirk on her lips too.

Missy yanked you by your hands, practically sweeping you off your feet.

The Master quickly caught onto what she had been planning, grinning in equal amusement and agreement. "Oh, yes...that's good."

The Time Lady spun you around so that you landed in his arms, but now she was on the other side of you. You were trapped in the middle of them as they both locked hands together.

"You know...we really don't like sharing what is ours." Missy stated.

The Master nodded. "We are quite possessive, actually. We don't even like sharing between each other. It's terrible."

This made you swallow nervously, seeing their eyes locked on you from all sides. You felt like prey stuck in between two hungry cheetah's trying to decide who gets the first pick at you.

"O-Okay. Then don't fight each other. It's simple."

Missy and the Master both chuckled at the same time.

"But how can we not when it's over you?" Missy asked, practically close to nipping at your ear.

"Yeah...you said you were bored. We can't let that happen to our pet." The Master added, whispering into your other ear that you could feel his breath upon it.

This was the final straw, making your heart race and feeling the goosebumps on your skin from it all. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? It was something you were genuinely asking yourself for the first time since traveling with him.

Either way, you knew you wouldn't trade it for anything.

The Master and Missy had kept their word.

[scribble-bunnie]

Let You Go | Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Reader (Gender Neutral, I think, I didn't specify anything)

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending that's also kinda Open?

Summary: Fragments of the process of falling in love with you; and the moment it all built up to.

A/n: This is my first time writing for this fandom and I'm only watched till the 2nd episode of S4 so please forgive any mistakes! Also, the Doctor might be ooc (my biggest nightmare, writing ooc characters) but I was possessed last night to write this instead of studying so ofc I will share it. The pacing is all over the place and I'm not the proudest but it's something. I hope you enjoy it regardless <3

also available on ao3!

The Doctor doesn't remember how it happened. It had been too quick, or maybe too slow– or maybe it was both at once, leaving him unable to pinpoint when or how he fell in love with you. All he knew was that it had been easy.

There were moments though– moments when he could remember distinctly the unusual rhythm of his hearts that played only around you. Moments when, in the back of his mind, he had no choice but to admit that he was in love.

The one that hurt him the most to this day was the moment born out of his own anger. It had been at the end of a particularly harsh adventure, one that had left his feelings in a jumble, anger hot and quick to lash out the moment you had pushed a little too far, too close to his heart and to his hurt– he had shouted at you, "Don't you dare! You are not special!"

There was silence for a few seconds, enough to get the Doctor to realise what he had said but it was your response that still haunted him to this day.

"I know," you had said gently. He could see the hurt in your eyes, masked with an understanding and soft smile that was reassured. "I know I'm not special. I'm perfectly ordinary. And isn't that wonderful? Someone special like you needs someone ordinary like me by his side– to remind you that it's okay to be ordinary sometimes. It's not a bad thing, Doctor."

You had inched closer and opened your arms to offer him a hug, a way out of the conversation – a silent way to make an apology. He had taken it, not knowing what else he could have done instead to make you realise that you were wrong. Being ordinary was wonderful, but you were special. Special to him in ways he was too terrified to admit even to himself, so much so that he had said the opposite in a fit of anger because he was scared.

He didn't know how you did it, but you somehow knew that his anger was just him being hurt and scared. And you were always generous with your hugs when anyone was afraid– didn't he know that after seeing you hold so many strangers close while on your dangerous adventures? Those same strangers that he had been jealous of had been replaced by him in that situation and suddenly, the moment was not all that he had hoped it would be. It wasn't a delicate and vulnerable moment like he had thought; he had ruined it by hurting you.

Yet you were never one to hold a grudge. You never really mentioned it, except in passing sometimes when you joked about being ordinary and common whenever an alien or person would think you extraordinary. Every single time, the Doctor regretted not letting you know the truth– but that moment had been one where he couldn't have denied the truth even if he was scared.

There were other times, other memories of you that were a lot more warmer to remember. Like the time when you had asked him, a few days after joining him, whether the TARDIS was alive. He had answered you with a simple yes, and you had just nodded then but he could see you take the time to pet the TARDIS and speak to her sometimes when you thought he wasn't around. It was sweet, the way you were connecting to his only constant through all of time and space.

There was a moment on another planet, one in the far past where an alien species had been under attack from another. The Doctor still remembered the sight of you holding the alien child in your arms while you all tried to escape– had heard the comfort you had whispered into the child's ears despite being scared underneath the surface yourself.

When he asked you about it later, you had just given him a radiant smile and said, "The fear is just my natural instinct, Doctor. But the conscious part of me knows that you are there– and it's never scared because it believes in you."

You believed in him.

Sometimes, he wondered why. On the days when all the two of you encountered was death and destruction, the whispers of the danger that follows the Doctor clanging in the back of his head as hollow reminders, he wondered why you would choose to put all your faith in him. Why would you think that he was special, but you were ordinary? How were you able to still offer him comfort after seeing him destroy planets, species, entire civilizations? What did you see in him, an empty shell of a man he once used to be?

"Doctor?"

Your voice was like a steady anchor whenever he felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts. The loud volume of it was always offset with the gentleness in your tone whenever you spoke to him, and somehow, it always managed to make him feel warm. It sounded a lot like ho–

"Doctor, are you okay?" Your voice was concerned now. The Doctor blinked, snapping out of his own thoughts to look at you. You were holding something in your left hand and reaching out to touch him with your right one. "Is there something I can do?"

"No, no!" He cleared his throat, giving you a bright grin that faded a little at the edges when he realised that you were still staring at him impassively. "Sorry, just got a bit lost in my thoughts there."

You hummed, wrapping your arms around the box in your hands now. The Doctor looked at it curiously; wasn't it one of those cookie tins that you said were always full of sewing materials?

"Was it… about her?" You asked quietly, a little unsure and hesitant. It was the only topic you never really brought up– and whenever you did, you always sounded a little scared. Like anything you said would hurt him too much. Or maybe you were scared to pry too far into his feelings. "The planet we went to today… Did you go there with her?"

He had done that before. You had been there with Martha, when he had taken you two to places he had been with Rose. Never again after that, though.

"No, not this one," he shook his head, trying to look you in the eyes. It was usually so easy, you were always looking at him with wide eyes that seemed to admire him. Now though, you were looking away. He tried again. "I wasn't thinking about her."

"Home, then?" You finally looked him in the eyes, a little tension sucked out but not all. Gallifrey was the second topic you were careful to speak around. You had had your fair share of answers demanded out of him like Martha had, but after that, you had let the choice lie with him whether he wanted to talk about it. And, weirdly enough, sometimes he wanted to tell you everything. Wanted to tell you about the place that once used to be his home. Now…

"This is my home now," he replied quietly, hand slipping to cover yours over the cookie tin. You and the TARDIS. Home. "Anyway, what's this?"

If you realised his terrible attempt at switching topics (which you did, as always), you didn't comment on it. Instead, you held up the box and opened it to reveal not the notorious sewing materials but actual cookies.

"I," you blushed, embarrassed for once. It was surprising, considering you had held steadfast through far more humiliating scenes in all your adventures. Why were you blushing over cookies? "I tried baking some cookies. It's not, it's not much, and they're not all that goo– hey! I'm still speaking!"

The Doctor didn't wait after hearing that you made them. He immediately picked one up to try it. He could tell that the baking powder was just a little bit too much and the mix wasn't done properly in some bits but you were looking at him with a shy smile.

"I thought you deserved a little nice something after the mess our last adventure was," you mumbled, picking up one of the cookies yourself to eat.

"It's good," the Doctor felt a little choked– not on the cookie, but there was a lump in his throat. You rolled your eyes, waving your half eaten cookie at him.

"Liar," you called out, smiling through the action. "I promise the next ones will be better. Or maybe I should try a cake next time. Would you like that?"

The Doctor stiffly nodded, trying to blink away the sting in his eyes. As always, you knew something was off.

"Hey," your voice was soft, concerned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No," the word came out before he could stop it. Somehow, neither his brain nor his mouth had a filter when it came to you. "I just… wonder."

You waited for him to speak when he paused, trying hard to put the words together. Speaking his emotions was always so difficult.

"I just wonder," he tried again, "what I did to deserve you."

"It's just cookies, silly," you shook your head, inching closer. The Doctor hoped you would step even closer. A hug would be really, really nice right now. "It's nothing compared to all that you've given me. I have seen so much, gone all across time and space because of you– I could ask you right back what I did to deserve you."

"It's not," he was struggling but he had to let you know. You looked a bit confused, pausing in your actions to look up at him. "It's not nothing. All of time and space is nothing compared to all that you have given me. That understanding, that comfort, that warmth– I can't find it anywhere else in that time and space you speak of."

"Doctor…"

"Do you remember that time I said you were not special?" He asked quietly, taking a step closer. It was the first time he had done it; usually, you were the one who had to cross the space between the two of you. You opened your mouth, probably to say that it was all bygones, but he rushed ahead with, "I lied. I have wanted to tell you ever since then, that I am just a coward, and a liar. Saying that you're not special… that was just me trying to tell myself that I can't let you be special to me. Because the moment I let that happen, that's the moment I–"

He broke off, frustrated at how the words just weren't coming out the way they were supposed to. What was he supposed to say anyway? It's not like he could tell you his feelings. There was no way you would take it kindly. Not after knowing about Rose, not when you had only ever looked at him with respect and admiration.

"Doctor," your voice was quiet but you were so close and the hum of the TARDIS had quietened so much that he could hear you clearly. "Don't."

Was it possible for both his hearts to sink? He stared at you, tears welling up in your eyes as you gave him a painful smile.

"Don't do this," you added shakily, your arms coming up to hold yourself. Beside you, the cookie tin lay forgotten on the console. "Don't… give me hope, only to take it away. I have been strong, but I'm not strong enough for this."

"What–?" He didn't understand. You closed your eyes and took a step back, a step away from him. Something inside him fractured.

"I have loved you in silence, Doctor," you said quietly, "and I thought I did it well enough for you not to realise. But I must not have done a good enough job hiding it– you know how it is. I'm not, I'm not asking you to return my feelings. I don't expect or even hope you to. All I ask is that you forget it. Forget you know it and let me go on one more adventure with you. One last, if you can no longer bear to see my face after this. Just one–"

"Why one?" He stepped closer, covering the distance you had backed up. "Why not all of them?"

You seemed to have lost your breath as you stared at him. "Y- You mean it? I can stay? You will forget this happened?"

"No," he shook his head, hands reaching out to touch your elbows. With his eyes, he asked you for permission. You would be mad to deny it, when that's all you've wanted for so long now. "I can't forget it even if I tried to. I told you, you are something that I can't find anywhere else in all of time and space. And if you choose me, then I'm selfish enough to not let you go."

°•❀•°

all likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated ♡

[raz-writes-the-thing]

ok ok ok we’ve had some talk about the master, but have you considered. missy. femdom missy. please i want her so bad

-🍓 (ophelia)

Hey hey, Ophelia-

I- look don't hate me for this- but at this current point in time (first watch through of Capaldi's run) I am not a huge Missy fan

Like, I like her- but she's not my type yknow?

Having said that-

Here's some Missy nsfw hcs just for you, cutie

Missy is definitely a switch. But not a subby switch- a complete brat. But having said that, it's very rare that she's not overly dominant.

Missy? The biggest fan of incorporating sex and food. Whipped cream, chocolate, even bacon. Honestly, nothing is too weird for her.

That goes for everything else, too. Literally nothing is too weird.

She has a thing for using her partners as human furniture.

She also has a thing for being eaten out while she's working. She likes to be serviced.

"Oh, come on, dear- you can do better than that."

Let's put it this way- her partner would need to have a thing for being mildly to moderately humiliated.

She does also like to take photos and videos of you being sexy for her.

This woman is incredible at giving head, but she only does it as a "reward" for being good for her. She also absolutely prefers to receive and will put her hands on your head to keep you exactly where she wants you and your tongue.

Missy enjoys edging you until you cry and will take immense pleasure in pushing you to your limits.

[dolleffable]

hello !! i've decided to take in requests for doctor who as well <3 please do read my rules list and send in requests for any doctor who x reader fics <3

[that-one-girl2020]

Master List

K-pop Demon Hunters:

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader:

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Finished!

The Confrontation

Role Reversal!

Shovel Talk

First Kisses

Baby Photos

Smut 🔞🔞🔞

Doctor Who:

The Lonely Angel

[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.

[run-clever-boy]

Hey! Could I request some Twelve smut? Maybe when he was blind/relying on touch a lot? Thanks in advance love you bye!

I have been wanting to write something like this for SOOOO long!! Thank you sm!!!! I’m so sorry that this took me forever to write, hope you are satisfied!!

also on AO3

Inch by Inch - 12th Doctor x Reader

Blind! 12th doctor x Fem!Companion!Reader

Words: 3,247

Summary: The doctor is having a tough time dealing with the complications of being blind. A companion of his and a very understanding reader is willing to help him navigate, but will he let her?

Warnings: Smut!! Minors DNI!!!, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Unprotected sex (0/10 do not recommend), Nipple play, dirty talk if you squint

You walked out of your room on the TARDIS as you heard some clambering downstairs. You assumed the doctor got into something he shouldn’t have and wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

“Doctor! Wait a minute stay where you are! I’m coming!” You yell down stairs as you come running down.

You abandon trying to put on your t-shirt, considering he can’t see you anyway. You start picking up the pace in your bra and sleep shorts. You tried not to think about the fact that you would be so exposed in front of the man you’ve admired (More romantically than you care to admit) for years. It was the middle of the night after all, but you knew the doctor never slept.

You run into the console room to see the doctor surrounded by bits and pieces of some alien technology you didn’t recognize. What was most important was that he was lying on the ground, and you needed to help him.

You rush over and grab him by the arm to pull him up and onto one of the chairs surrounding the console. “Doctor? Doctor are you alright??” You say worriedly, checking over his figure to make sure he isn’t injured. “What were you doing up?”

“I’m fine, Y/n, I promise” He says, stopping your frantic hands with his own, smoothing over your skin with his own. “Even with the glasses, the depth perception just isn’t on point” He says, his hand moving further up your arm.

“I am getting a med kit, there is no way you haven’t hurt yourself by now” You say, trying to get him steady. Once he looks steady you quickly turn on your heels and hear an exasperated sigh behind you as you leave to get the kit.

You return just as quickly as you left, walking quickly to ensure he doesn’t do anything stupid. You see him exactly where you left him. You can see him lean back against the console, clearly exhausted.

“You there y/n?” He questions

“Any time you need me, I will be” you quip back. You take out the neosporin and bandaids you loaded up a med kit with and help him fix up the scrapes on his hands. He scratched those up most often when he would try to catch himself as he ran into items around the TARDIS, despite the amount of clutter you cleaned up for him.

You help him up onto a chair that sat near the console, grabbing onto his arm firmly for support. He settles in the chair and takes his glasses off, running his hands over his eyes. You can see just how exhausted he is. You know that time lords don’t need hardly any sleep, but you assume the blindness has been taking its toll on him.

“Are you alright now doctor?” You ask timidly.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to fuss over me. In fact, I truly hate it when people fuss over me. You worry too much-”

“I worry with reason, doctor.” You interrupt.

He stops for a second, and exhales. “But you shouldn’t have to” he says quietly. His voice is shaky and there was a different inflection behind that than you expected. He can’t look you in the eye, but you know it’s not just his sight that’s bothering him.

“Doctor, what’s wrong?”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me, Y/n. I’m supposed to take care of you, that’s how this works” He replies somberly. He can’t look you in the eye but he somehow finds you hand and holds it in both of his own.

“Doctor you do so much, I can take care of you too”

He brings your hand up to his lips gently. He stands up and brings you up to stand with him. He runs his hand along the seat to find his glasses and puts them back on, hitting a button on the side that presumably helps him navigate.

“I appreciate your help more than you know, Y/n. I have been a burden and I know that, please don't protest that. It's not easy having to take care of a stubborn blind man."

You chuckle a little. There was no doubt that he was stubborn. Even more so now that he was blind.

"Follow me" He says, squeezing your hand and turning to go down the stairs and into the halls of the TARDIS.

"I feel like that should be the other way around, Stevie Wonder"

"Shut up"

You can hear his smile in his voice as he says it. He very carefully weaves in and out of the halls of the TARDIS.

"Where are we going?"

"Surprise" His Scottish accent putting emphasis on the word.

"Well aren't we 'doctor mysterio' today” You quip back quietly. He turns his head and gives you the ‘shut up’ look. (Well almost, the angle was a bit off but you can’t blame him)

He arrives at a dark blue door, with some gold circular Galifreyan details. You recognize the language after spending so many years traveling with the doctor. You’ve seen him write in it once or twice, and you always found it mesmerizing. He’s tracing the pattern on the door with his free hand and you can’t help but stare. He turns the door knob and opens the room then walks in with you still in tow. You are just now able to see the room and look around properly. It’s a bedroom with a large bed in the middle which looks like it hasn’t been touched. It’s perfectly made with TARDIS blue sheets. You turn to see bookshelves filled to the brim with books, records, CDs, and pictures lining every wall. More Gallifreyan detailing is on the ceiling and sparkles like stars in the night. The room takes your breath away. Then everything click in your brain as you turn to face the doctor.

“Is this… your room, doctor?” You ask tentatively.

“It is” He replies. “It’s hardly ever used, other than storage lately. Considering the whole ‘Time lords don’t sleep’ ordeal” He smiles.

“It’s amazing” You say in awe.

“I thought you might like it”

He unclasped his hand from yours and ran it up your arm. You couldn’t help but shudder at the action, but your attempt to hide the shaky breath you let out was futile. He ran his hand down your side in an attempt to be able to guide you around by having his hand on your lower back only to discover that your side was exposed. You chose this particular moment to curse yourself for not putting on your t-shirt before running down stairs.

His movements froze when he felt your skin beneath his fingertips. You can feel you cheeks heat up and it quickly spreads throughout your body as your embarrassment floods through you.

“I- s-sorry” you mutter quietly, looking at the floor and shifting uncomfortably. You are all of a sudden way too aware that his hand still hasn’t left your side.

“What for?” He says quietly.

“Not wearing more, I guess” You stutter through and start nervously laughing.

There is a silence between you for a minute when he suddenly moves his hand against you waist. He finds a good grip against your side and gently pulls you in front of him so he’s facing you.

“That’s no reason to be sorry, Y/n” He says quietly, his face close to yours. “The only regret I have is not being able to see you right now”

You freeze in shock for a few moments. You feel your breath caught in your throat. All you can focus on is how the doctor’s hand is trailing up your side and across your chest. His hand finally stops when it finds the side of your face and his thumb glides over your bottom lip. You stay there frozen, finally letting out the breath you were holding. He could hear the shaky-ness in your voice and smiled at you. He was nervous too, you could tell (As much as he tried to hide it)

Just then you felt him tug you closer and you feel his lips touch yours. You could feel the hesitation in his movements so you pressed back against him. You could feel him instantly relax and get more bold with you. You move your hands up the smooth fabric of his suit jacket and wrap your arms around his neck. The one hand on your waist pulled you to him and you could feel the fabric he was wearing against your skin. You gasp and part your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He felt like he was every where, just overloading your senses. You ran your hands through his hair, needing him closer. You two move backward until your back hits the bookshelves behind you. You wince slightly at the contact not expecting it. He breaks the kiss for a moment, taking a second to breath.

“Are you alright?” He asks, evidently out of breath.

“Yes, god yes” You say, equally out of breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this” it comes out as more of a confession than you meant it to be.

“I wish I could see your face, see your reactions to my touch” He says, bending down so the sound of his voice is in your ear. “But feeling you is incredibly worth it”

He kisses behind your ear and down your neck. He stops at your pulse points and sucks a hickey onto your neck and you use all of your self control to not let out the moans threatening to break free. Whimpers keep escaping as his lips work your neck and his hands are tracing your figure and exploring every inch of your body. Savoring every touch. He is running his hands and lips all over you as if to create a mental map of your body and memorize how you react. Certain touches leave you breathless, arching your back, goosebumps along your skin, and heartbeat skyrocketing.

“So responsive, love” He groans into your skin, hiding his cocky smirk behind explorative kisses.

He pulls you closer in an attempt to move to a different location, not that you minded. He guides you in the general direction of his bed, but stumbles as you both hit the edge of it. He uses the opportunity to wrap his broad hands around your waist, stroking your sides up and down from your ribs to your hips. He kisses you feverishly while he clumsily gets himself onto the bed and on top of you as you guide him. You run your hands up the fabric of his suit and gently guide the jacket off of his shoulders. He takes the hint and slips his arm out of it, tossing it carelessly to the side of the room, having no clue where it landed. You reach to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt while he pulls you closer to him by your hips. He helps you with the many buttons on his clothes in between his explorations of your body. You get everything off of his body and run your hands over the pale skin there. You can feel the roughness of him underneath your fingertips as you trace his body. He runs his hands wherever he can reach on you. From your neck, down your body, worshiping your hips and waist, and further down the run his hands over your legs. All he could want right now is to take all the time in the world to commit your every curve to memory.

His hands come underneath you and fumble around, searching for and then unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side. His lips leave yours for a moment and you almost whine at the absence.

“Show me where you want me”

His Scottish brogue is even deeper than normal. His breath is uneven and his attraction is evident within it. You know what he means now, he wants you to guide him.

You tangle your hands in his silver hair and gently pull his lips to your pulse point. He attacks the spot, licking and sucking hard. He moves just under your jaw and hits the amazing spot on your neck and a moan comes flying out of your mouth before you can stop it. He smirks into your skin as you mutter incoherent apologies. Ignoring your words, he puts more work into that spot, nibbling at the sensitive skin there which has you biting your lip in a failed attempt at concealing your whines. Your hips grind on nothing, begging for some sort of attention and the doctor presses his knee between your thighs to give you just that.

He glides his hands over your shorts and slips a finger into your waistband and slides the smooth material down your legs. You skillfully undo his trousers and he kicks them off.

You run your hands down his soft stomach and go to reach under the waistband of his boxers when his hand comes down and catches yours.

“You’ve done enough taking care of me as of late. Let me take care of you”

With that he resumes his kisses to your skin but then ventures them down your body. He roughly kisses the sensitive spots on your collar bone and then kisses the valley between your breasts. He searches for and then palms your tit, then kisses around until he finds you nipple on your other, taking it into his mouth. He licks over the hard bud lightly then puts a sudden but not unwelcome amount of pressure on it with his teeth. His other hand uses his fingers to roll your nipple between his fingers and pinches it allowing the very little pain to morph into complete pleasure. He switches his hand and mouth to give attention to both and you can barely think. Your breaths have run completely ragged and you can’t even bother to try and die down your moans. The whines escaping your lips go straight to the doctor’s cock and you can only imagine how hard he is for you. The inability to see you is only heightening every other sense he has and you are overwhelming them all.

He lowers his attention to your stomach, his hands running down the grope at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. He can hear you, touch you, hell even smell you. All he wants to do now is taste you.

He runs his fingers over the cotton fabric of your underwear and you raise your hips involuntarily to meet his touch. He chuckles lightly at your enthusiasm and you curse him for his cockiness in your mind. He decides he’s wasted enough time so he slides your panties off and runs a finger through your folds. He groans when he feels just how wet he made you. He can’t wait any longer.

All of a sudden you can feel him everywhere. Licking stripes up and down all over you. Sucking your clit in his mouth. Sliding fingers around your entrance. It’s incredible and so much to take in at once. He has you bucking your hips into his hands and whining for him. He slides 1 finger into you. It’s just enough for you to squeeze onto. He continues his ministrations while curling that one finger to reach a spot inside of you that you had never felt before. Your eyes rolled back into you head and your back arched. You were so breathless even your moans had turned almost silent. He pressed his weight into your hips to stop their frantic movement as he added another finger which prodded at the most intimate areas he could possibly find. You didn’t even have time to think about the embarrassment that came with coming so quickly as you let out a desperate moan and your vision went blank. All you could feel was the white-hot sensation of the pleasure flooding through your every nerve. You could hear the praise and groans coming from the man you so desperately loved distantly as your consciousness came back to you. You didn’t realize that you were gripping his silver curls tightly as you came on his fingers. What you did see when you look down, however, was the Doctor licking his fingers clean with one hand and stroking his impossibly hard erection with the other.

This time you pulled him up and kissed his lips, desperate to taste yourself on him. He kissed you sloppily, his tongue sliding over yours and you biting his lip as he pulled back. You slid your hand into his boxers and grabbed his erection, pumping him slowly. His head fell onto your shoulder as he muttered a Gallifreyan curse.

“Fuck, Y/n. If you do that any more I won’t get through the night.”

You slid his shorts off his body and then wrapped your legs around his hips. You hooked your ankles into his back and pulled him closer. He hit your sopping wet entrance and a small whine escaped his lips. You reached between your bodies and lined him up with your entrance and pushed your hips forward.

“Take me like it’s the last time you’ll ever get the chance”

That was all he needed to kiss you fiercely on the lips and push into you, inch by agonizing inch. He bottomed out and waited for you to adjust to him. He felt like heaven, stretching you out just enough to where is felt like you were filled to the brim. You moaned at the thought and he took that as affirmation to start his thrusts. He hit the perfect spots in you and stroked every inch of you perfectly. It wasn’t long before the both of you were on the edge of complete bliss. His hips snapped with the fervor of a man much younger than him and his touch set a blaze on your skin. You had never felt someone pour so much into being intimate and it ignited a fire deep within you. He reached down and (with no vision might I add) expertly massaged your clit until you were writhing and screaming his name. The feel of you clenching around him had him gasping and stuttering out his orgasm quickly after yours, riding out your high to prolong this incredible moment. His hands still ran up and down wherever they could reach, but this time he hardly needed any guidance what-so-ever.

“If that’s what you can do without your vision, god knows what you could with” You joke, the words coming out breathlessly.

He pulls himself out of you and lays down at your side. “I don’t think I’ll need it”

“Why not?” You question curiously.

“Because…” He pauses to turn towards you and run his fingers down your torso. “As much as I would love seeing you under me, I can already tell that I’ve committed your every move, noise, reaction, and curve of your body to memory.” Sliding toward your ear as he says it. “I know you said to do this like it was the last chance I’ll get, but you greatly overestimate my self control if you think I can resist this for long”

You smile and lay your head down on his chest which is still heaving.

You couldn’t wait for him to explore your body once again, inch by inch.

[able-remedious]

Aurora Light

Touched Starved - Oneshot

Summary: After about a week of her new situation with living with a toon/light god she finds out he has not felt the warmth of touch, so when she gently gives him a alright touch he is all over her

A/n: Based heavily on @velka-art ‘s touched starved Lux art, Lux gets very handsy, Deliah is gonna be FLUSTERED, suggestive, and fluff cause Lux needs to be held

It’s been a week since Deliah brung the living cartoon home, and it’s been, something. Mr Ring a Ding has been a bit of a pain to her. Constantly asking her many questions, and rummaging through her stuff, not to mention is trying to charm her.

Everyday when she wakes up he’s just there staring at her and it’s creeped her out at first but now it’s getting annoying. Today is no different, she wakes up and he’s there sitting at the end of her bed just smiling.

“Good morning sunshine!” He waved and she just sighs and gets off her bed “morning to you too” she says and walked to the restroom to brush her teeth and locks it and puts a towel at the bottom cause Mr Ring a Ding has got in a few times, even when she showers.

She’s tried to explain her boundaries but he just brushes it off and doesn’t listen, well sometimes he’s does but it’s not very often.

Then she goes back in her room, buried her hair and has to basically beg Ring to get out.

“Mr Ring a Ding, please, it’s just for a few minutes!” Deliah whines “but you don’t have to be ashamed, doll! I’d admire your body on how whatever it looks, and I bet you’re quite the looker~” he smirked.

“Shut up, get out! I don’t wanna do this so early in the morning!” She groaned “you better be out or I’ll literally throw you out mister”.

“Ok, ok” he rose his arms in defense and walked out and she closed the door to get dressed in just a simple t-shirt and shorts.

As she was getting dressed she thought about the realization that, she has never touched him once, like since they met she has never got into any physical contact with him.

Neither has he, Mr Ring a Ding has also not touched her, and come to think of it from memory it kinda seems that he try’s to avoid that? It confused her.

Once she was done she walked out of her room and went to her kitchen and decided to cook potatoes for today. She cut a few to small pieces and cut a few onions and put them in a pan.

As she was cooking Mr Ring a Ding came in “what’s on today menu sweetie pie?” He asked. “Just come potatoes, um, do you want some? I mean you said yourself you really don’t need to eat since lights all you need but, maybe a meal wouldn’t hurt?”.

“Hmm, you know what? Sure! I mean your being so nice to me now after that small yell this morning” he chuckled “hey, you need to respect my boundaries, and I mean it, or else bug boy” she came up with that nickname from the antennas on his head, his design confused her but that cartoon was made in the 30s or something and many cartoons had interesting designs.

“I’ll try, but you’re just too irresistible~ tell me, do you think the same?” He asked with half lids eyes and a smug smirk “we just met, ok? And I wouldn’t know how this kind of relationship would work”.

“Well, I’d definitely give you unconditional love, my beautiful angel”.

“Yeah ok, take a seat these are almost done”.

The small man had to literally climb onto a chair and stand on it to reach the table and Deliah chuckled a little, she went to the fridge to quickly get something to add, cheese, she sprinkled a lot onto the cooked potatoes and made sure it melted then put the potatoes on two separate plates.

She put them in the table and got some juice and poured a cup for her and Ring. “You’re gonna love this Ring, it’s very good” Deliah sat down and began to eat.

Mr Ring a Ding looked down at the food he picked up a spoon he was given and used it to scoop some potatoes and put it in his mouth.

He chewed and swallowed, it was kinda weird for him since he’s probably never done this before. It rooms moment before he gave a reaction “wow, this is actually pretty good! You’re a good cook”. Deliah smiled “thanks, I’m glad you like it” she continued eating.

After a few minutes the two were done and Deliah washed their dishes so she wouldn’t have to worry about it later. After she was done walked to the living room where Mr Ring a Ding was going through her cds.

A lot of them were animated movies and he found an interest in those cause he wanted to see how animation improved over the years. “When you find a movie to watch you better clean that up after”.

She sat down on the couch and he looked over at her “sorry, it’s just there’s so many choices” he attention went back to the cds “you know we can also stream these, there’s many other animated movies options from that”.

“Nah, I’d rather stick to what’s close to traditional”.

“Ok, so, which one for today?”.

“I don’t know, maybe you can pick this time?”.

She looked over the movies on the floor “hm, ok, do you wanna watch Monsters Inc or Cars?”

“Let’s do Cars, living cars sounds intriguing”.

He passed her the dvd and she put it in, Mr Ring a Ding sat down next to her as the movie began to start.

────────────────────

Soon the movie was over and Ring of course loved it, and asked many questions after wards “is someone driving the cars?” “How do they have tongues?” “How do they make new cars?”.

Deliah couldn’t really answer any of them since it was complicated to her too. Speaking of questions that thought she had earlier came up and she thought she’d might as well ask it now.

“Mr Ring a Ding? I’ve noticed I’ve never touched you once and you haven’t touched me once, and I’m wondering if you have a reason for that”.

He looked over at her and felt a little frozen “um, well, it’s just I normally don’t touch honey, I mean, it’s not much of a concern right?.

“Ring have you never felt touch before?” She asked and he felt more frozen “…no, I mean, I’m a god, I don’t think I really need that”.

Deliah would think other wise, I mean, from looking at him now, he looks like he needs it “I think you do, I mean if your trying to date me, I’m sure learning to feel another being would be good in a relationship”.

“Look, I was all alone for many years and I was fine, ok yeah I was bored and needed someone to talk to, but I didn’t need touch, I mean, do I sometimes think about it? Yes, do I just imagine feeling the warmth of someone’s hold that doesn’t even need light to feel warm? I admit that, yes, but I’m again, I’m a god, I think I can go on without all that”.

He looked a little nervous and sad at the same time now, Deliah frowned, he’s been yearning touch and by the looks of it, fearing it too.

“Ring, are you scared of what touch might feel like?”.

“What? That’s preposterous! No! I’m the god of light, I don’t get scared of something so simple”.

“I think you are scared, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s not bad”.

“…so what? I mean it’s still something new to me, everything is!”.

“Then how about I try and do this”.

She reached over to gently touch his cheek but he shooed her hand away “hey now! I just said I don’t need touch!”.

“Mr Ring a Ding it’s just for a moment, give it a try” she reached over again and he wasn’t liking this, he was about to tell her off until she managed to cup his cheek in her hand, and since he was smaller, her hand just held one side of his head.

He jumped a bit at the touch, this was a whole new sensation to him. He didn’t try and pull away, he looked embarrassed and like he was gonna cry.

Deliah grazed his cheek with her thumb, he felt warm, I mean for a light god that wouldn’t be surprising but this warmth felt not like normal body heat, but like warmth from the sun.

Then Mr Ring a Ding grasped her wrist and leaned into her palm more with a visible blush on his face and a single small tear. He kept the grasp and his head tilted up a little, with his nose and mouth being pressed up against her hand.

She started to softly smile at him and move her hand so she had her index finger and the rest of her fingers between his cheek. He had hearts in his eyes now and looked dazed, and his antennas formed a heart.

She cooed and this continued till she started to pull away cause it seemed like he had enough but he snapped out of his trance and looked at her hand, wanting it back.

He proceeded to do the most cartoon thing possible and wrap himself around her arm and press his face against her hand with a bigger blush. Deliah blushed too and was surprised he was this light.

“Ok Ring, you can let go now” she said trying to gently shake him off “no..let me stay like this..just for a little longer” he mumbled nuzzling her hand. “Ok, but you better get off once my arm gets tired”.

────────────────────

3 hours later, after that flustering moment Deliah could only think about how desperate Mr Ring a Ding looked and honestly she liked it, seeing him being so touched starved. She got an idea, if he could tease her then she should tease him back.

Mr Ring a Ding was in her room, looking at her things again, Deliah walked in with a smirk he didn’t notice her there until she walked up to him and held his chin and made him look at her. He looked confused then pushed her hand away.

“No, no, not again”.

“not again? What do you mean not again? I thought you liked my touch?”.

“I did, but it made me all mushy and gushy, and I love you sweetie but I don’t think I want to act like a fool again”.

“Not even one hold?”.

“No, not interested”.

He turned his gaze away from her, but she wasn’t gonna give up like that. She reached up to his antennas and grabbed one with two of her fingers and Mr Ring a Ding froze again like last time.

Deliah got him right where she wanted him and stated to rub the antenna between her fingers and he started to get flustered.

She rested her hand on his head for a moment and slid up to hold both his antennas and started to rub again.

“Is bug boy getting flustered?” She cooed and he couldn’t take it anymore as his eyes turned to hearts again and were yellow this time.

He smacked her hand away with one of his eyes looking yellow with a very flustered look on his face as he tried to laugh it off and tugged his collar a bit.

Deliah was still determined tho, she put both of her hands on each side of his face and his eyes turned yellow again, he was surprised at first but didn’t fight back, instead he just accepted it with a blush.

She moved her hands along his head, his eyes had hearts in them once again and was in a trance. His eyes closed letting her hands wander and he grasped her wrists again.

He started to let out little noises of love and Deliah was getting excited about that and continued moving her hands around, slightly brushing his hair with her finger tips, pressing his cheeks with her palms, and brushing her thumb over his lips.

She was loving being in control and in a quick moment she got his antennas and messed with them. He let out a flustered noise and held her arms.

His antennas formed into a heart again “aaaww, you love me”. She went down back to his face and squished his cheeks. They were both enjoying the moment, Deliah had him being all blushy and touched starved and she LOVED it.

She squeezed his cheeks once more then pulled away. He did that cartoon floaty thing to feel her hand again then fell on the floor, Deliah laughed “oh man!”.

He lifted his head and immediately got up, with a small blush on his cheeks he just stood there. “You ok? Ring? Lux?” Deliah asked.

He looked at her with a wide smile “well then, whoever enters the game, must endure the game”.

Deliah got confused then suddenly or film stock appeared out of nowhere and wrapped around his wrists “what the?-” she was pulled forward and Mr Ring a Ding pulled the film stock down so she was sitting on her knees.

He looked down at her with a wide grin and sat down in front of her and took one of her hands, she was getting a little nervous but all he did was rest it on his cheek.

He nuzzled her palm and just stared at her with half lidded eyes, she tried to move her other arm but the film stock held her in place, she thought on where the hell did it come from?

Her attention was brought back onto Ring as he slid her hand down and kissed her palm! She blushed and her hand flinched. He kissed is again, it was soft and warm and slow, he kept slowly kissing her palm and moved her hand a bit and bit bellow her thumb.

It wasn’t a hard bite but enough to leave a mark, Deliah had her mouth shut to make sure she didn’t let out any noises to boost the ego he currently had.

He pulled away only to bite her index finger and leave another mark, then he licked the mark and that made her blush more and gave him a peeved look.

His tongue was warm and he licked the whole mark slowly, very sensual, he left a kiss on it and another kiss on the other mark.

Deliah thought it’d be over as he pulled away and let go of her hand, but he tugged his bow tie off then slowly slid off his vest, Deliah knew what he was gonna do and she tried to move to protest. He crawled over to her and made a shushing gesture, still with his smirk.

“Oh no, no, no, no! Mr Ring a Ding! Lux! No!” She thrashed but he got on top of her. “You know you want to~”.

She shook her head “if this is just payback I’m sorry! I’m not ready for anything like this dude!” She looked up at him and he took a good look at her.

“Alright” he simply said and she stopped moving “what?”. “If you’re not ready then alright, and besides, I was just teasing you~” he winked.

“You asshole!” She yelled “hey, language” he snapped his fingers and the film stock disappeared, he rested his heads on her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Can you please get off?” She asked “nope, this is still payback” he nuzzled her and she sighed and sat back just going with this “so, how did you do that with the film stock things? Where did it come from?”.

“Oh, it’s a little something I picked up, I can do some really sensual stuff with them once you’re ready~”.

“Well that won’t be for a while and we’re not even dating”.

“Yet, all you have to do is say you love me”.

“I’m debating on that, and these marks are gonna a few days to fade, thanks a lot”.

“You’re welcome!~”.

[enby-jellyfish]

Return to Me. Masterlist

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

Pronouns: You/Your, They/Them

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

Warnings: (Probably) inaccurate timeline.

Prologue: New Year, New... You?

(TBC)

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[stardust-and-snickerdoodles]

Let Me Save You

fandom: Doctor Who

pairing: 11th Doctor x Reader

summary: Your favorite hobby is collecting alien medical supplies. At least, the Doctor thinks it's a hobby.

Or, you try to make your chronic illness go away without consulting the Doctor first. Can be read platonic or romantic.

tags/warnings: chronic pain, chronic illness, medical experimentation, self-medication, experimental drug use, emotional hurt/comfort

word count: 4384

a/n: an 11 fic in the year of our lord 2024? more likely than you'd think

i hope this is comforting for someone. i had a dream about this and now here we are.

reader's illness is never specified (it's mentioned that you experience pain of some sort, but not where or how or anything like that) so this can be generalized. also no gender identifiers that i can see (but ialso wrote this really fast so please correct me if im wrong!)

It’s been a week since your last market trip, and you still haven’t sorted the supplies. You know you’re slacking, but it’s been more difficult lately. To get up, to put on a smile for him, when your whole body is falling apart. Of course, he doesn’t know that. He can never know.

But he can keep you company while you sort the supplies. Hold you accountable. Even if he doesn’t know what for.

The Doctor, as usual, is tinkering away at the interface. Occasionally, a spark flies out at him, but he seems unbothered. You approach the console room from a nearby hallway, your satchel slung over your shoulder. You glance around, looking for him, before taking a seat on the floor.

The Doctor had heard your footsteps, and now he lifts his goggles to observe you. He watches as you set the satchel down. “Everything alright?”

You spare him a quick glance and a nod. “Fine. Just… looking for company. You can go back to work; I’ll just watch, if that’s okay.”

The Doctor pauses, disturbed by the slight downturn of your smile, but lets it go for now. “As long as you don’t distract me.”

You hum to yourself in quiet agreement. “I’ll try my best.”

As the Doctor turns back away to continue his tinkering, you dump the contents of your satchel on the floor - spoils of your previous trip to the Martian Markets. Your eyes scan over the bottles and tubes and capsules; all sorts of alien medical supplies. There were pain medications, instant bandages, antiseptic infused with nano-bots. This is your hobby - at least, that’s all the Doctor thinks it is - collecting medical supplies from the planets you visit.

You sit quietly, your brow furrowed in concentration, as you sort the supplies into piles. The Doctor hears the slight commotion and looks over his shoulder, a curious look on his face. He sets down his screwdriver and rests his elbows on the console. “You’ve never told me why you collect all these.”

You hum, eyes still fixed on the piles. “Might come in handy someday.” You manage a small smile, although it doesn’t quite reach the rest of your expression.

The Doctor tilts his head, a frown forming on his face. He doesn’t want to push; you would tell him the reason when you felt comfortable enough to do so. But he couldn’t help his curiosity. “You worry too much. Always thinking about the what-ifs.”

You snort and pick up a bottle of Martian healing salve, turning it over in your hands. “I worry too much? Okay.”

His mouth gapes open for a moment, taken aback by your sarcastic tone. Immediately, he jumps to defend himself, pointing his screwdriver at you. “Hey, I-”

“Do you think we could visit another market soon? I’d like to see if I can find anything else.” You cut him off, hardly noticing that you’re even doing it. You glance up at him, finally noticing the faux-wounded look on his face.

The Doctor closes his mouth, reaching for his bowtie in a self-soothing gesture. You’re being… weird. But he doesn’t mention it. “A… another market, yeah. Shouldn’t be a problem. Somewhere with lots of alien medical supplies, I assume?”

You smile again, the dull look in your eyes a stark contrast to the expression. “Yeah, preferably.”

The Time Lord’s unease grows as he sees the falsehood in your countenance. He goes silent for a moment, watching as you go back to picking through the supplies. Finally, he decides to speak. “I know there’s something wrong. You can tell me, you know.”

You, too, go silent. Your movements still. Finally, you reply quietly, “I know.” You begin to pack the things back into your satchel, finished with sorting and cataloging them.

“Then why won’t you tell me?” He slowly approaches from the console, kneeling down so he’s at eye level.

“It’s… complicated, Doctor.” You avoid his searching gaze and ignore the way your heart races.

The Doctor scoffs, settling down cross-legged in front of you. “I’m a Time Lord. I think I’m more than well-versed in all things complicated.” He reaches out a hand to gently touch your knee and his voice grows soft. “Try me.” When you don’t respond, the Doctor frowns. He can feel his own frustration bubbling up, the sort that comes when his companions keep secrets from him. But he tries to keep his voice level, not wanting to scare you off. “I can tell when you’re lying. I can see it with you just as I can see it with anyone else.”

You finally place the last item back in the satchel. Your eyes lift slowly to meet his gaze. “It’s not a lie if I haven’t even told you anything,” you whisper.

The Doctor’s expression softens as he looks into your eyes. There’s something broken there, and it scares him. “Fine. You haven’t lied. But you still haven’t told me the truth.”

You look down at where his hand rests on your knee. Slowly, you reach for his wrist, circling your fingers around it. The Doctor’s confusion only grows, his body tensing slightly at the unexpected touch. But he doesn’t pull back. You slide your hand to the underside of his wrist, two fingers pressed against his pulse point. Your gaze is fixed on the point where you touch, the warmth of his skin, the soft thrum of his hearts. “It’s odd, you know.” The words come out as a soft murmur. “Two hearts, but only one pulse.”

The Doctor swallows hard, feeling a strange sense of dread. His hearts pound in his chest, thrumming against your fingers on his wrist. He speaks quietly, “Not entirely. Gallifreyan biology isn’t the same as humans. Our cardiovascular system works differently. That’s all.”

You quickly withdraw your fingers, almost as if his touch has burned you. Your expression grows a bit harder - not unkind, just closed off. You swing your satchel back over your shoulder and stand. “The market soon, yeah?”

The Doctor’s eyes widen as you suddenly pull away. A pang of hurt, confusion, and fear shoots through him. The words stick in his throat. “Yeah. The market soon.”

You give one quick nod. “Just come get me whenever you’re ready to go. Or have the TARDIS tell me. Whichever.” You turn on your heel, heading back down the hall to your room.

Helplessness washes over the Doctor as he watches you leave. He wants to reach out, to call you back and demand you tell him what’s going on. But he has seen enough of his companions shutting him out, and he has no desire to make it happen again. With a heavy, dejected sigh, he stands, returning to the console to seek out a market you haven’t visited yet. He hopes perhaps this will cheer you up, or at the very least, give him a chance to try and talk to you again.

About 30 minutes later, the TARDIS lands on the unfamiliar planet with her usual jolt, letting out a groan to signify their arrival. The Doctor calls down the hallways in the direction of your room. “Oi! We’ve landed, come on!”

You come out with a smile on your lips, the previous interaction seemingly forgotten. There is still an emptiness in your eyes, but it’s clear you’re trying to offset it. You clutch your now-empty satchel at your side eagerly. “What are we waiting for then?”

Your vigor should put the Doctor at ease, but it only serves to strengthen his resolve to find out what is bothering you. He tries to swallow down his nerves, giving you a broad, excited grin as he opens the TARDIS doors for you.

As you both step outside, the brightness nearly blinds you. You have to blink to clear the sudden spots in your vision. The Doctor rattles on enthusiastically beside you. “The interplanetary markets of the Rumalian system. They have 3 suns, which makes for some interesting orbital patterns. We’re actually standing on the remnants of the 4th planet in the system, which imploded after a nasty leak of toxic goo.” He rubs his hands together, eyes taking in the various tents and canopies which line the streets of the market. “But nothing to worry about now; the implosion managed to burn up all of the toxicity and now it’s a wonderful place for the markets! All sorts of folk around here, Grumians, Braleths, Wertikens…”

Finally, your vision clears and you can observe the sight in front of you. The ground is a mottled green color, with bits of rock and dust around. The street winds and twists, branching off into different sections. There must be thousands of market stalls, stretching out as far as your eye can see. Alien species of all shapes and sizes wander past, browsing the tables and exchanging wares. You hold your satchel a little tighter, tamping down the anxiety that rises in your chest at the noise and commotion. “Right. Where are the medical supplies then?”

The Doctor breaks off from his tangent about the stall that makes the best plum creams to look at you. He points down the path. “Three rows down that way.”

You look where he’s pointing and nod firmly. “Good. I’ll meet you back here, yeah?”

The bowtie around the Doctor’s neck seems to grow tighter as he looks at you - it’s like all the air has been sucked from his lungs. The look in your eyes is something fierce and determined. It scares him. Still, he manages a small smile and a nod. “Or I’ll find you. I’ll get some plum creams for us.” As you begin to walk down the path without another word, he calls out to you. “Make sure you read the labels!”

Aliens brush up against your shoulders as you make your way to the row the Doctor indicated. Your eyes grow wide as you arrive at the end. Nearly every table and stall is lined with bottles and jars and tubes. For about the thousandth time since you began traveling with the Doctor, you send a prayer of thanks to the TARDIS translation matrix. This would be impossible without it.

You spend the next two hours stopping at every stall on the row. You speak to vendors about their wares, picking up a few items at nearly every table. By the time you reach the end, your satchel is heavy and nearly bursting with neatly wrapped packages. As you finish up, placing a roll of Gradorian tendon tape into your satchel, you hear the familiar sound of the Doctor’s voice. He’s at the end of the next row, conversing with an alien that has the head of a walrus and the body of a horse.

You approach the pair, struggling to zip your satchel as you go. The Doctor notices you and gives you a smile, walking away from the walrus-horse thing. “Looks like you’ve done well.”

You smile back at him, and this time the darkness in your eyes seems a bit lighter. “Yes, I think so.”

The change in your demeanor only causes the Doctor’s confusion to grow. But he keeps his face neutral, nodding at your stuffed satchel. “Might need a bigger bag soon. The Lorentians make a wonderful dimensional bag, like a TARDIS! Bigger on the inside and all that. In fact, there might already be one here.”

He’s already begun to walk away in search of a Lorentian bag stand. You manage to catch the end of his sleeve, bringing him to a sudden halt. “Maybe next time. Let’s get back, yeah? I wanna go through all this.”

The Doctor raises an eyebrow at you but nods. He falls into step beside you, watching how you clutch the satchel at your side protectively. You make your way back down the row to where the TARDIS is parked. As you walk, the Doctor hands you one of the infamous plum creams he’d mentioned. You chew on it, savoring the flavor as you walk.

Once you’ve arrived back to the TARDIS and taken off, you turn to the Doctor. There’s a strange look in your eyes, the same look you always get after a trip to a market for more medical supplies - something eager, something… desperate. You pat the full satchel. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Right… I’ll leave you to it, then.” He watches as you head down the hallway. The lump in his throat seems to choke him. He’s missing something, and it’s driving him wild.

In your room, you mirror your movements from earlier, dumping the satchel’s contents onto the floor. You sit cross-legged and begin to sort the supplies - pills in front of you, injections to the left, and any goops, solutions, or salves to the right. By the time you’re done, the floor around you is covered in neat rows of bottles, tubes, and syringes.

You stretch out your legs and roll up your pants to above your knees. A roll of medical tape sits beside you, and you grab it to begin carefully taping a grid on your knees. You make sure to have enough squares for each of the substances intended for topical usage. Before long, you’ve neatly taped off each joint.

Out in the control room, the Doctor is pacing. He rounds the center console over and over, his frustration mounting with each revolution. He’s racking his brain, trying to find what he’s missed, but nothing comes to mind. He runs his hand through his hair before leaning back on the console. He speaks quietly to himself and to the TARDIS. “What do you think? Surely there’s something wrong… it’s been like this for weeks and it’s only getting worse.” The TARDIS lets out a low hum, the lights glowing brighter for a second. The Doctor takes this as a sign of agreement. With a determined huff, he strides out into the hallway. He’s going to get answers, whether you like it or not.

The Doctor has to focus hard in order to unclench his jaw, tight with anxiety. He tries to tamp down the fear that rises up in him - it feels like walking to his doom. As he approaches your room, he straightens his bowtie, then raps firmly on your door while calling your name. “It’s me. Open the door.”

You startle in the room, accidentally dropping the bottle of pills you’d been holding. They scatter across the ground, rolling all over the place and causing a loud clatter. “Bit busy!” you call out, desperately trying to clean up the mess you’ve made.

The Doctor frowns as he hears the commotion, the knot in his stomach growing tighter. “I need to talk to you. Open up or… or I’m coming in.” Normally he would never threaten such things, but the anxiety coursing through him was enough to drive him mad - well, more mad than usual.

You swore under your breath, staring at the incriminating scene around you - your gridded knees, covered in colored goops, the rows of pill bottles in front of you, the syringes waiting neatly beside them. “No! I’m… I’m changing!” The lie came out thin as you searched for something to clean the substances off your skin.

“Oh come on, I’m a thousand-year-old alien. I think I can handle the sight of you in a state of undress.”

You huff indignantly, staring at the door with narrowed eyes. You can make out the shadow of his form under the door. You’re silent for a moment, scared and a bit angry. Then, finally-

“No.”

The Doctor clenches his jaw at your simple response. He can hear the hesitation, the defiance, and knows that you’re certainly getting yourself into trouble. “Right. You’ve left me no choice. I’m coming in.” Before you can protest, the Doctor pulls out his sonic and points it at the door handle. It unlocks with a gentle click and he pushes it open all the way.

It takes a moment for the scene before his eyes to register. He scans the substances laid out in front of you, the pills scattered across the floor. One rolls across the ground to stop next to his foot. He sees the cacophony of colored gels on your knees, the odd grid pattern you’ve placed them in. The waiting syringes, the bottles of pills…

“What are you doing?” His voice comes out small, almost trembling.

Your mouth gapes open, an odd sort of croaking sound coming out of it as the words stick in your throat. You have nothing to say, no explanation that will make this any better.

The Doctor leans down to pick up the pill that stopped by his shoe. He examines it carefully, scans it with the sonic, and reads the results. His brow furrows and fear rises up in his chest. He whispers your name. “Talk to me; what is all of this? Why… why do you have all of these?”

Finally, the shock wears off and you look down at your hands in shame. You slowly move to take the tape off of your knees, then grab a towel to wipe them down. As you do, the Doctor watches in silence. You can’t look at him - you can’t look at his face when you’re sure he’s absolutely infuriated with you. “It’s nothing.” The words sound weak even to you.

“Don’t say that!” The Doctor’s voice is louder than you’ve ever heard it before, and you startle, looking up at him with wide eyes. He softens as he sees the fear on your face, slowly lowering himself to the ground. He holds his hands out to you like one might do to a wounded animal. “Please. Please be honest with me. Just… tell me what’s going on. I only want to help.”

Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and you hate your body for betraying you. You wipe them away angrily, then pick up the towel to continue scrubbing at your knees. You can’t speak, even if you wanted to. Anything you want to say will just come out as a shitty excuse, or a lie. And you can’t lie to him. You manage a deep breath and meet his eyes. To your surprise, there’s no anger, no frustration - just fear. “I can’t tell you… I just need you to know.”

The Doctor dips his head to hold your gaze. He speaks softly, “How can I know if you don’t tell me?”

You shake your head, averting your eyes once more. “You’re the Doctor. Make an educated guess.”

The Doctor’s hearts feel like they’re about to burst out of his chest. He’s so scared and worried for you; he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. His mind is in overdrive, going a million miles per hour as he tries to work this out. Why do you have all these pills? Why were you using alien medicine on yourself? Don’t you know how dangerous this is?

The answer hits him all at once and it takes everything in him not to scream his frustration for not figuring it out sooner. The exhaustion, the medicine, the desperation…

“You’re sick.”

It’s not a question.

It’s a breath, an exhale, a momentary nightmare that the Doctor wishes he could wake up from. He hopes you laugh, hopes you tell him this is all a big joke or something. He wants you to deny it, to say it’s not true. But the look in your eyes says the exact opposite.

A sob rips itself from your lips as you clap a hand over your mouth, trying to hold in the emotions that threaten to escape.

The Doctor feels like he’s been punched in the gut. The air seems thin and tenuous, each breath a struggle. “How long?”

You sniff and discard the towel you’d been using, wiping away tears once more. Each word wobbles as your resolve fades. He knows now; there’s no use holding back. “Since the beginning? It’s… I was born with it.”

With every word, the Doctor’s grip on himself grows weaker. The lump in his throat almost chokes him; his hearts squeeze in a vice. “And you’ve… you’ve kept it a secret this whole time. From me.”

The brokenness in his voice nearly makes you crumble. Shame and guilt race up your spine and blush burns on your cheeks. Another sob spills from your mouth. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

Immediately the Doctor regrets his words. This is about you, not him. He can manage his own feelings later. Right now you need him. He shuffles closer to you, almost close enough to touch. “No, no, shh. It’s not your fault. It’s alright, hush now.” He carefully wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side. You immediately turn your head into his chest, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He rocks you gently, murmuring reassurances in your ear. “I have you now; you’re alright.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually your tears slow. The Doctor continues to sway you side to side, the motion soothing both of you. When he thinks you’ve calmed, he slowly starts to pull away. You grip his shirt with both fists, letting out a whine. He moves to hold your hands, already trying to reassure you. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Can you just look at me?”

You release your vice grip on him although you stay close. You manage to tilt your head to meet his eyes while still keeping in contact, his hands covering yours.

He smiles softly, sadly, at you. “There you are.” His voice is kind, almost paternal.

You sniffle, shame still coursing through you. But the gentleness in his eyes makes you feel a bit more at ease. This is the Doctor. He won’t hurt you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought…”

The Doctor waits for you to continue, hating to hear you apologize but wanting to know what you’re thinking. He nods, indicating he’s listening.

“I thought if I… found a cure, then I wouldn’t ever have to tell you. That I could keep going, keep traveling with you, and you would never know because… it wouldn’t matter anymore.”

The twin hearts in the Doctor’s chest seem to stutter. The thought of you carrying this burden alone, of keeping this a secret to protect him… “How could you think… I care about you. Of course this matters. You matter. You’re my… you’re my friend.”

“When I… when I was diagnosed, I lost people. People I thought were my friends, too. They promised to be there, promised to stay. But they only helped when it was convenient for them. Once they realized that my condition stops me from living like they do, they moved on.” Your voice was small and scared.

The Doctor raises a hand to cup your cheek gently, ducking to look into your eyes. “Hey. I’m not people. And I would never leave you. Not for this.” His hearts ache at the fear and pain in your eyes. He wants to hold you tight to his chest and never let you go. Instead, he keeps his voice steady as he speaks. “You are more than just what you go through. You’re brilliant, and kind, and caring. I could never think less of you for something like this.”

A soft sob spills from your lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you… that I didn’t tell you.”

He shakes his head, bringing his other hand up now to hold your face. His touch is gentle, like you’re something fragile that might break if he lets go. “Please, don’t apologize. I understand, I really do. Just… promise me you’ll never keep something like this from me again. Please.”

Your eyes search his, looking for any sign of deception, or anger, or hurt. But you find none - just affection and a concern as deep as the universe. “Promise.”

He gently rubs his thumb across your cheek, your faces only inches apart. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours for a moment. Now you can feel his fear, feel the anguish that you’ve put him through. You wince as the feelings grow stronger. He pulls away and murmurs, “Sorry. Time Lord telepathy.”

“It’s alright,” you reply, feeling off-kilter, unable to sort his feelings from your own. “What… what do I do now?”

The Doctor opens his eyes once more. “We work together to find a cure. For whatever it is you have. You stop keeping secrets, and you stop this reckless attempt at a solution. You stop the self-medicating, the experimenting, the searching-”

Already you’re shaking your head. “No, I… I can’t stop. I’ve been trying for so long. I can’t just… give up.”

“It’s not giving up.” The Doctor clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice level even as his frustration grew. “This is dangerous. Do you have any idea what these things could do to a human?” He releases one hand from your face to grab a nearby pill bottle. His eyes scan the label before he holds it up in front of your face. “These could kill you.”

You swallow hard, averting your eyes. “It’s all I have.”

“No.” The Doctor’s voice is firm, almost scolding. “Absolutely not. This is not all you have. You have me and I want to help. But I won’t let you destroy yourself.”

You shrink away from him, a little scared by the tone of his voice. You’ve seen the Doctor angry; of course you have. But never at you.

He notices, sees you retreating into yourself, and regrets his words immediately. He whispers your name like it’s something sacred. “I say it because I care. I’m not angry, I’m… I’m afraid. I don’t… I can’t lose you.” He grips your hands once more, holding them like he’s afraid you’ll disappear right then and there. “Please, let me help. Let me save you.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. You’ve kept your secrets close to your chest, and that was a mistake. Now here he is, always the savior. The Doctor. Your Doctor. How could you ever say no to him?

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Wrong Tardis (Ninth Doctor x M!Reader/ Tenth Doctor x M!Reader)

I'm not a huge fan of Nine but I'm slowly going back and watching his episodes and he's kinda growing on me.

Not sure if he's ooc here (though I'm like 90% sure Rose is) but whatever. I'm super excited for tomorrow's special and really wanted to write more for this series.

If you have any requests for this series send me an ask! (just keep in mind I have my own plans for big episodes like Silence in the Library or End Of Time.

Wordcount: Just over 1k

Series masterpost

The Tardis was old, like really old, like when the Doctor stole it it was already in a museum old. So occasionally it glitched, nothing too big. That is until it glitched and teleported you you to Cardiff 2005.

That was a whole earth year before you even met the Doctor. On the plus side the glimpse of his face you saw before you were teleported told you he would find you and come to pick you up, it was only a matter of time so you walked around.

You had yet to be in Cardiff in 2005, you'd been in to Cardiff circa 1910 but not 2005 so you look around, you saw the sights, you people watched for a bit and then you saw a familiar blue box.

"About time" You told yourself as you walked in.

"Did you fix the timezone processor?" You asked, happy to be back. By your calculation is had been about 3 hours.

"Who're you?" Asked a blonde woman who'd put herself between you and the Tardis console. You blinked.

You may have jumped to conclusions.

Looking around the inhabitants of this Tardis were very much not the inhabitants of yours. You only recognized one face. Captain Jack Harkness (Though he wasn't traveling with you when you'd been teleported away).

"You're Rose Tyler" You said to the woman who stood in front of you and she nodded.

"Yeah, and who are you?" She asked again. By now Jack and the Doctor, or the man you assumed was the Doctor were looking at you wearily.

You looked to the Doctor, his hair was darker and buzzed close to his head, his forehead creased in ways your Doctor's didn't and his ears were definitely larger than you remembered them being. Looking into his eyes calmed you though, because those were definitely the eyes of the man you loved. Though perhaps a few years younger.

This was the Doctor before you'd met him. before he knew you existed, maybe even before he destroyed Gallifrey.

"Well? Aren't you gonna answer her?" Asked Jack all three were looking at you expectantly.

"I'm an anthropologist" You finally said.

"An anthropologist?" Rose asked and you nodded.

Both Jack and Rose looked at you intently, not really buying it.

"Is that your name?" Rose asked wearily.

"No" You answered honestly, "But I can't tell you my name. I'm sorry." You told her and once again looked at the Doctor. He hadn't said anything yet.

"What do you mean you can't tell us your name? Why?" Rose asked.

"Because he's from the future Rose" The Doctor finally said, climbing down from the ladder he was perched on when you burst in.

"Aren't you?" He asked and you nodded.

"You're from my future" He said and you smiled almost sadly.

"Inquisitive as ever Doctor" You told him.

"I should go" You said, slowly turning around.

"Wait, if you're really from the future how come you were so shocked to see us? Don't you know us? Like, the future us?" Rose asked.

"He can't tell you anything Rose, it could put the whole timeline at risk" The Doctor said.

"He's right, I really shouldn't even be here. I thought this was my Doctor's Tardis coming to finally pick me up."

"Finally? How long have you been here?" Jack asked.

"About three hours" You told him.

"Does that mean there's another version of the Doctor wanderin' around Cardiff right now?" Rose asked and you chuckled a bit.

"No, we had a bit of glitch—" "With the timezone processor?" The Doctor asked.

"I can't tell you that" You said but he smiled at you with the cheeky little smile that only this face must have because you'd never seen it before and you sighed, "Yes with the timezone processor".

"What's a timezone processor?" Rose asked.

"It's what keeps all occupants of the Tardis in the same time bubble in flight" Both you and the Doctor said together, the two of you looked at each other.

"It's going to be your fault you know. You don't check the timezone processor enough and at some point it's going to act up. I want you to remember me saying this when I see you again. It's your fault" You told him but your voice held no malice, quite the opposite, it was loving teasing and both Rose and Jack could tell.

"I'm gonna go meet Mickey at the train station" Rose said and she grabbed Jack with her as she left. Leaving you and the Doctor alone but not before looking at the Doctor one last time, smiling and giving him a big old wink.

With just the two of you left the Tardis was quiet except for the soft whirring of the engine as it fueled up.

"How do you know what a timezone processor is?" The Doctor asked.

"I can't tell you" You said.

"When are you from?" He asks.

"I can't tell you that either" You repeat.

"Then can you tell me why you're looking at me like that?" He asks.

You step closer to him and gently cradle his face in your hands.

"I've never this face before" You simply say.

"What are you to me?" He asks.

"One day you'll find out. One day you're going to look at this face and smile and you're going to call me brilliant and when you do you're going to remember this and who knows, maybe I'll see this face again" You told him and kissed his cheek.

The wheezing sound of the Tardis landing could be heard faintly from beyond the wooden doors and you smiled widely.

"See you soon" You said and turned around, walking out to hopefully find your Doctor waiting for you.

Outside the Tardis stood another blue police box with the door open and the Doctor stood outside.

"There you are! We've been looking all over for you!" He said. His face was covered in oil and grease.

"Did you fix the timezone processor?" you asked.

"Eh, eventually" The Doctor said.

"And was it sparking because of a loose wire from when we crashed on Auros?" You asked, admittedly somewhat condescendingly.

"Yes" The Doctor mumbled and you rolled your eyes.

"I told you to check it" You said as you walked inside. The Doctor closed the door behind you.

"Y/N" He said, calling your name and you turned your attention from the Tardis console to him.

"Yes love?" You asked.

"Have I told you that you're brilliant?" He asked and you smiled.

"Not recently, no" You said.

[daydreaming-of-doctor-who]

anything fluffy with simm!master x reader. i am such a sucker for him being soft

A/N: You and me both! I love a soft Simm!Master with his human/companion.

Simm!Master x Reader - Going on a Date

While traveling around with him in his TARDIS one day, an idea on where to go next hits you. You wondered if you should even mention it. It was worth a try. "Hey, Master...let's go on a date."

The Master pauses, although you can't see the shock and confusion on his face. He was so rubbish at the concept of dating. Not because he had never been on a date before, but because he had never had anyone ask him. Although he wouldn't admit that out loud...ever!

Gathering himself, he replied, turning towards you. "What?! What put this silly idea in your head? Why would I want to do such a...primitive thing?"

This made you frown, feeling sad for asking now. "Sorry...I just..."

Noticing the state his answer had left you in made him realize how harsh he had been. It wasn't his intention. With a sigh, he walked towards you. "Fine, where did you want to have this date?"

A smile came to your face. "You're the expert. How about somewhere beautiful? Quiet? No chaos. Just you and me enjoying time together?"

While he admired the fact you called him an expert, the reality was he wasn't on this particular subject, but he was in everything else. "Come here." He motions, having you follow him towards the console. "Put your hands here on the console and she will read your mind, knowing exactly where to go."

You followed his instructions, doing just that. Immediately, the TARDIS started to take off. You looked towards him with a smile. Next thing you knew, it had landed at the spot you had in mind.

"Alright, let's see where you've taken us. I refuse to step outside that door in case you got it wrong." The Master turned on the screen, surprised at the scene you've taken him to. "What is that?"

Now it was your turn to make him follow. Grabbing his hand, you started to pull him along with you. "Come on. You'll find out!"

You both ran out of the TARDIS that had blended in with it's surroundings, matching with the setting of a tearoom. The Master felt as though he had landed on another planet entirely, trusting you with this one entirely.

A waitress met you both and set you down at a private little table surrounded by teacups, tea pots and an assortment of goodies to eat. However, what was getting him was how...floral and decorated the place seemed to be. If any one of his enemies, especially the Doctor, was to spot him sitting in such a place and doing something so simple...

"What's wrong?" You asked, pouring yourself a cup of tea. "Allergic to tea?"

"No. This wasn't what I imagined when you described where you wanted to go."

This made you chuckle. "Don't tell me you've never been on a date like this before?" You sipped your tea.

However, the way he looked away spoke it all. Your cheeks went red before grabbing his hand, trying to comfort and reassure him. "I'm glad I'm here...with you. Thank you for this."

He sighed, nodding. "Yeah. I'm just hoping the Doctor doesn't come bursting through the door any minute now."

"And? What if he does? We're on a date. This is our moment. I won't let him interrupt it." For that, he smiled at you, giving a genuine and warm smile. A rarity to see on his face, but it did happen. "Want some tea?"

"I would like that."

[denaliwrites]

Don't Blink

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: Going home was meant to be a vacation from all the aliens and monsters.

Part 2: Don't Turn Your Back Part 3: Don't Look Away Part 4: Dreams See Us Through

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

Warnings: Weeping Angels, babes.

You hadn't slept in days.

It started innocuous enough -- some nerves as you crawled into your bed, for once. You'd assumed it was because you were so used to the TARDIS that home didn't feel as much like home anymore. You thought that maybe, after a day or two, it'd get better.

It got worse.

Waking up the next morning, you were confronted with the feeling of being watched. No matter where you went -- your mum's, the shops, the cellar, even the restroom. Everywhere. All day. By the time you dropped into your bed that night, you were exhausted from being on high alert the whole day.

You didn't sleep well that night.

Nightmares plagued you -- they were nebulous, slipping just out of focus every time you thought you could make out even just a single detail. But despite that -- or maybe because of it -- you were terrified.

You awoke drenched in a cold sweat, covered in goosebumps and with a stomach churning with unease. You felt feverish, but when you took your temperature the thermometer flashed with a perfectly normal number.

Going about your day felt like a monumental task. While your limbs felt weighed down with lead, the rest of you felt light, jittery... panicky. Any attempts to focus for more than thirty seconds at a time failed miserably.

Maybe it was just your heightened state, but you could've sworn that everyone could see that you were starting to lose it.

That was the first night you didn't sleep.

The second night, you finally caught sight of the predator in the underbrush -- the thing that had been stalking you since you arrived back home. Only for a brief, blink-and-you-miss-it moment, but it was still long enough for you to know that it was the cause of your sleepless nights and worsening mental state.

You weren't sure how a perfectly ordinary angel statue could cause so much distress.

The third night, you noticed the statue had moved -- just a couple inches -- but it was enough for you to see the difference. Finally, you called the Doctor. Not five minutes later, you heard the TARDIS materialize outside.

You turned away for all of one second, but when you looked back, the angel had gone.

Well, "gone" was relative. It was out of line of sight, you could say that much for sure. But you knew it was still lurking nearby -- you could still feel it watching you.

The Doctor didn't bother announcing himself as he barged into your flat -- the TARDIS brakes were announcement enough. The sonic screwdriver was held aloft, its light moving in erratic circles in the darkened flat as the Doctor gradually made his way to you.

"Where is it?" he asked once he finally reached you. "Did you blink -- did it move!?"

You weren't sure how to answer. He had told you not to take your eyes off it, you recalled that now that he was here, yelling at you about it -- but you didn't even remember looking away just moments ago you were so exhausted.

In the back of your mind some little part of the normal you knew that the Doctor was just worried, but that little piece was dwindling with every moment you continued to lose sleep.

You'd moved right past delirium at this point -- and, hell, you weren't even sure how much of this was real. What if you were hallucinating? Angel statues that could only move if they weren't being looked at? That was a little crazy, even for the Doctor.

He turned to look at you when you remained silent, and when his eyes met yours they melted into pure, unadulterated concern and some dam inside you broke.

Sobs wracked your body and you collapsed. The only reason you didn't hit the ground was the Doctor surging forward, arms wrapping around you and holding you steady.

"Oh, dear," he cooed, holding you close. You buried your head into his chest, your cries still rocking through you, though the Doctor's arms kept you pretty snugly in place, and his clothes did an excellent job of muffling your blubbering.

You could feel one of his hands running comfortingly through your hair, while the other rubbed soothing circles into your back.

Miraculously, you calmed. For the first time in days, you felt like you could relax. Breathe. Hell, maybe even sleep.

It was with that thought that you felt yourself being effortlessly lifted. The Doctor carried you, bridal style, back to the TARDIS, through the doors and the console room and the halls, until he reached your bedroom and settled you carefully onto the bed.

"What about the angel?"

"You're completely safe in the TARDIS. I promise."

You knew that he knew that you had meant something different, but you were too tired to argue. Now that you were safe, sleep was coming to claim you rather quickly.

Once you fell asleep, you were haunted by nightmares again, but you were just so glad to be getting any sleep at all that you didn't care.

You found the Doctor in the console room the next morning, looking over something on one of the monitors. Without even so much as sparing you a glance, he dived right into it.

"That's no ordinary Weeping Angel."

"What do you mean?" you asked with a yawn and a bleary blink in his direction.

"See, normally a Weeping Angel wouldn't waste any time -- you blink, you're dead. Well. Teleported to another time so that they can feed off the energy that the displacement causes. But this... this is..."

"It's torturing me."

It wasn't a question -- how could it have been? You and the Doctor both could see what it was doing to you.

"Yes," he confirmed sadly.

"Reminds me of something," you said with a shrug.

"Oh?"

"Oh, do I get to be the brainiac for once?" you teased with a smirk, leaning back against the console beside him.

"I guess we'll find out," he teased back, mirroring your expression and bumping your shoulder lightly with his own.

You blushed, suddenly self-conscious, but you forged ahead anyway. "So, usually when a predator becomes a maneater it's because it's sick or injured and almost always starving, and humans are really easy prey compared to deer and antelope and stuff."

He was watching you with such rapt, adoring attention. You could barely stand it.

"But," you continued, "sometimes there are outliers. Predators that kill humans for unknown reasons, reasons that don't align with what we know about typical maneaters. The maneaters of Tsavo -- they were these two perfectly healthy, normal lions by all appearances, that killed anywhere from -- realistically speaking -- twenty-eight to thirty-two people, but reportedly they killed over a hundred. And no one really knows why they did it. There are theories, of course, but because they were healthy, and it happened over a century ago, there's no way to really confirm one way or another why they killed all those people."

You paused, thinking.

"Well, no way for the average person."

The Doctor beamed at you. "Oh, you are clever, aren't you?"

"I try."

"So you think maybe this Angel is an outlier?"

"Yeah, it's possible."

"No indicators of illness or injury, no signs of weakness or starvation. Just..."

"Sadistic tendencies?"

"But why?" he asked no one in particular, leaning back to stare at the monitor again.

"And..." you started thoughtfully. The Doctor turned to look at you again. "Why me?"

"Why you?" he repeated cluelessly.

"I wasn't here when it arrived, and it couldn't have known I was gonna be coming back anytime soon. It's possible it's been waiting for days, weeks for me to come back -- and it could've been waiting even longer if I hadn't decided I needed a break. That's a lot of waiting for a random person you don't know is coming back."

Realization dawned on the Doctor's face. "It's targeted."

"But why?"

"Why indeed?" he asked in that tone that was meant to sound casual but only served to let you know that he was deeply worried. "Let's find out, shall we?"

[aspenmissing]

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ -

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ, ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ, ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ, ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ, ᴊɪɴx (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ, ᴠɪ, ᴄᴀɪᴛʟʏɴ, ᴄᴀɪᴛᴠɪ, ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ, ᴇᴋᴋᴏ, ᴍᴇʟ, ᴍᴇʟᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ

ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ -

ꜱᴀᴍ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴄᴀꜱᴛɪᴇʟ ɴᴏᴠᴀᴋ, ᴅᴇꜱᴛɪᴇʟ, ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ᴋʟɪɴᴇ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ɢᴀʙʀɪᴇʟ, ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ, ᴄʀᴏᴡʟᴇʏ, ʀᴏᴡᴇɴᴀ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ -

ʀɪᴄᴋ ɢʀɪᴍᴇꜱ, ᴅᴀʀʏʟ ᴅɪxᴏɴ, ʀɪᴄᴋʟʏ, ɴᴇɢᴀɴ ꜱᴍɪᴛʜ, ɢʟᴇɴɴ ʀʜᴇᴇ, ᴍᴀɢɢɪᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴᴇ

ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ ᴍɪɴᴅꜱ -

ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ, ᴀᴀʀᴏɴ ʜᴏᴛᴄʜɴᴇʀ, ᴇᴍɪʟʏ ᴘʀᴇɴᴛɪꜱꜱ, ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʀᴏꜱꜱɪ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ᴅᴇʀᴇᴋ ᴍᴏʀɢᴀɴ

ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ -

ʀʜᴀᴇɴᴇʏʀᴀ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ, ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏɢᴇɴ, ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ, ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ , ᴀᴇɢᴏɴ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ, ᴄʀᴇɢᴀɴ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ

ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜʀᴏɴᴇꜱ -

ᴊᴏɴ ꜱɴᴏᴡ, ʀᴏʙʙ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʏʀɪᴏɴ ʟᴀɴɴɪꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴊᴀᴍɪᴇ ʟᴀɴɴɪꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴅᴀᴇɴᴇʀʏꜱ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ, ᴛʜᴇᴏɴ ɢʀᴇʏᴊᴏʏ, ʙʀɪᴇɴɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴀʀᴛʜ, ʀᴀᴍꜱᴀʏ ʙᴏʟᴛᴏɴ

ʟᴀᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ -

ᴏʟɪᴠɪᴀ ʙᴇɴꜱᴏɴ, ᴅᴏᴍɪɴɪᴄᴋ "ꜱᴏɴɴʏ" ᴄᴀʀɪꜱɪ ᴊʀ, ʀᴀꜰᴀᴇʟ ʙᴀʀʙᴀ, ʙᴀʀɪꜱɪ, ᴀᴍᴀɴᴅᴀ ʀᴏʟʟɪɴꜱ, ɴɪᴄᴋ ᴀᴍᴀʀᴏ, ᴅᴇᴄʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʀᴘʜʏ, ᴍɪᴋᴇ ᴅᴏᴅᴅꜱ, ᴛᴇʀʀʏ ʙʀᴜɴᴏ

ʜᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ (ᴛᴠ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ) -

ʜᴀɴɴʙᴀʟ ʟᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴡɪʟʟ ɢʀᴀʜᴀᴍ, ʜᴀɴɴɪɢʀᴀᴍ, ꜰʀᴇᴅʀɪᴄᴋ ᴄʜɪʟᴛᴏɴ

ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ -

ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ, ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ, ꜱᴛᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ, ​🇯​​🇮​​🇲​ ​🇭​​🇴​​🇵​​🇵​​🇪​​🇷​, ʙɪʟʟʏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴏᴠᴇ, ɴᴀɴᴄʏ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟᴇʀ, ʀᴏʙɪɴ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ, ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ʙʏᴇʀꜱ

ᴄꜱɪ (ᴍɪᴀᴍɪ/ʟᴀꜱ ᴠᴇɢᴀꜱ) -

ɢɪʟ ɢʀɪꜱꜱᴏᴍ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ɴɪᴄᴋ ꜱᴛᴏᴋᴇꜱ, ɢʀᴇɢ ꜱᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱ, ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʜᴏᴅɢᴇꜱ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ʜᴇɴʀʏ ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴡꜱ, ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴇ ᴊᴏʜɴꜱᴏɴ, ᴅ.ʙ. ʀᴜꜱꜱᴇʟʟ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ᴍᴏʀɢᴀɴ ʙʀᴏᴅʏ, ᴛɪᴍ ꜱᴘᴇᴇᴅʟᴇ, ʀʏᴀɴ ᴡᴏʟꜰᴇ

ɴᴄɪꜱ -

ʟᴇʀᴏʏ ᴊᴇᴛʜʀᴏ ɢɪʙʙꜱ, ᴀʙʙʏ ꜱᴄɪᴜᴛᴏ, ᴛɪᴍᴏᴛʜʏ ᴍᴄɢᴇᴇ, ᴀɴᴛʜᴏɴʏ ᴅɪɴᴏᴢᴢᴏ

ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴡʜᴏ -

10ᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, 11ᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, 12ᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, 13ᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ꜱᴘʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ, ʀɪᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴏɴɢ, ᴄʟᴀʀᴀ ᴏꜱᴡᴀʟᴅ

ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ -

ʙɪʟʟʏ ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ, ʜᴜɢʜɪᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴘʙᴇʟʟ, Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴇᴠᴇ, ʜᴏᴍᴇʟᴀɴᴅᴇʀ, ꜱᴏʟɪᴅᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ, ᴀɴɴɪᴇ ᴊᴀɴᴜᴀʀʏ

ɢʀɪᴍᴍ -

ᴍᴏɴʀᴏᴇ, ʀᴏꜱᴀʟᴇᴇ ᴄᴀʟᴠᴇʀᴛ, ᴍᴏɴᴀʟᴇᴇ, ɴɪᴄᴋ ʙᴜʀᴄᴋʜᴀʀᴅᴛ, ꜱᴇᴀɴ ʀᴇɴᴀʀᴅ, ᴛʀᴜʙᴇʟ

ɢᴏᴛʜᴀᴍ -

ᴊᴇʀᴏᴍᴇ ᴠᴀʟ��ꜱᴋᴀ, ᴊᴇʀᴇᴍɪᴀʜ ᴠᴀʟᴇꜱᴋᴀ, ᴏꜱᴡᴀʟᴅ ᴄᴏʙʙʟᴇᴘᴏᴛ, ᴊɪᴍ ɢᴏʀᴅᴏɴ, ʜᴀʀᴠᴇʏ ʙᴜʟʟᴏᴄᴋ, ꜰɪꜱʜ ᴍᴏᴏɴᴇʏ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

ᴘᴇᴀᴋʏ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇʀꜱ -

ᴛᴏᴍᴍʏ ꜱʜᴇʟʙʏ, ᴊᴏʜɴ ꜱʜᴇʟʙʏ, ᴀʀᴛʜᴜʀ ꜱʜᴇʟʙʏ, ᴀʟꜰɪᴇ ꜱᴏʟᴏᴍᴏɴꜱ, ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ -

ᴛᴀᴛᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴅᴏɴ, ʟᴀɴᴀ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀꜱ, ᴋɪᴛ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ, ᴄᴏʀᴅᴇʟɪᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅᴇ, ᴋʏʟᴇ ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ, ᴍɪꜱᴛʏ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴊɪᴍᴍʏ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ, ᴅᴀɴᴅʏ ᴍᴏᴛᴛ, ᴇʟꜱᴀ ᴍᴀʀꜱ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ᴊᴏʜɴ ʟᴏᴡᴇ, ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ, ᴇʟɪᴢᴀʙᴇᴛʜ, ᴋᴀɪ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ, ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴅᴏɴ, xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ ᴘʟʏᴍᴘᴛᴏɴ

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏᴍᴇɴꜱ -

ᴄʀᴏᴡʟᴇʏ, ᴀᴢɪʀᴀᴘʜᴀʟᴇ, ᴘᴏʟʏ

ʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴡᴀʀꜰ -

ᴀʀɴᴏʟᴅ ʀɪᴍᴍᴇʀ, ᴅᴀᴠᴇ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴄᴀᴛ, ᴀᴄᴇ ʀɪᴍᴍᴇʀ

ꜱɴᴏᴡᴘɪᴇʀᴄᴇʀ -

ᴊᴏꜱᴇᴘʜ ᴡɪʟꜰᴏʀᴅ, ʙᴇꜱꜱ ᴛɪʟʟ, ᴀʟᴇxᴀɴᴅʀᴀ ᴄᴀᴠɪʟʟ, ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴀᴜᴅʀᴇʏ, ʙᴇɴɴᴇᴛ ᴋɴᴏx, ᴊᴏʜɴ ᴏꜱᴡᴇɪʟʟᴇʀ, ᴊᴀᴠɪᴇʀ ᴅᴇ ʟᴀ ᴛᴏʀʀᴇ, ʙᴏᴊᴀɴ ʙᴏꜱᴄᴏᴠɪᴄ

ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴛʀᴇᴋ -

ꜱᴘᴏᴄᴋ, ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴛ. ᴋɪʀᴋ, ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴏᴘʜᴇʀ ᴘɪᴋᴇ, ʟᴇᴏɴᴀʀᴅ "ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ" ᴍᴄᴄᴏʏ, ᴍᴏɴᴛɢᴏᴍᴇʀʏ "ꜱᴄᴏᴛᴛʏ" ꜱᴄᴏᴛᴛ, ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ᴛ. ʀɪᴋᴇʀ, ᴘᴀᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴇᴋᴏᴠ

2/ʟᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ -

ᴊᴏᴇʟ ᴍɪʟʟᴇʀ (ᴘᴇᴅʀᴏ ᴘᴀꜱᴄᴀʟ), ꜱʜᴇʀʟᴏᴄᴋ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ, ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀɪᴀʀᴛʏ, ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱᴛᴀʀ, ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ "ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀɴᴅᴍᴀɴ"

[noforkingclue]

Okay, I have my dark Dhawan!Master request idea to share with you. May I please request a Dhawan!master x reader where the master has caused an accident and the reader has amnesia as a result. The master has the role of a loveable boyfriend/partner but one day the reader gets their memory back but accidentally reveals this in front of the master where he tells the reader that he's impressed that the reader has been able to remember so quickly but unfortunately for the reader they won't remember the truth again.

Please, of course, feel free to ignore, and i hope you have a great day at work.

Of course anon!

Dhawan!Master is one of the few things I liked from Chibnall's era and I love writing for him (especially dark fics)

Also been meaning to get Dhawan!Master's Big Finish stuff...

Anyway, hope you like the fic :)

Title: Mind Games

Warning: dark fic (mind manipulation)

The Master sighed as you backed away from him. He gave you a disappointed look and walked towards you. You continued to move away and winced as your back hit the kitchen counter. The Master smirked at this and seized the opportunity to box you in against it. His hands rested on either side of you as he leant closer.

“This look suits you,” he said, “frightened. Wondering what I’m going to do next.”

“And what are you going to do to me?”

“Now then, love,” he tutted, “patience. Do you want me to spoil the surprise?”

You yelped as he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the kitchen. He sat down heavily on your sofa, wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping you close to him. You grimaced at his touch and tried to pull free but he was a lot stronger than you. You used to love spending nights curled up on your sofa with who you thought was your loving boyfriend.

How wrong you were.

“Why,” you asked, “why me?”

The Master rested his chin on top of your head as his hand snuck up under your shirt. He rubbed circle against your hip with his thumb as he said,

“Why not?”

“Because you never do anything without reason.”

“I do plenty of things without reason,” he said, “sometimes it’s fun just to do so. Causes more chaos that way and irritates the Doctor.”

Of course, this would be about the Doctor. The Master never did anything without the Doctor always at the forefront of his mind. You should’ve known that all of this was just another way to piss her off and what better way to do that than manipulating one of her companions.

“Of course,” the Master’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “that’s not the entire reason why I do this.”

He tilted your head back, running his thumb across your cheek. He smiled down at you leaning closer. You felt his cheek brush against yours, his beard scratching against your cheek. You tried to pull away but he kept you close.

“I wanted to see why the Doctor kept so many little pets,” he practically spat, “of course I knew so you wouldn’t come with me willingly so some… adjustments,” he smirked at the word, “had to be made.”

He raised a hand and brushed it against your forehead. You tried to pull away but the Master was quicker. He tightly gripped your hair and his grin sharpened when you winced in pain.

“Of course,” he said, “you’ve proven typically stubborn. You’ve managed to shake off my influences. Unusual for a human.”

“You mean you’ve done this before?” you asked quietly

“Yes.”

“How many times?”

“You really want to know?”

You hesitate and the Master laughed. He leant closer, brushing his lips against yours. You were vaguely aware of a memory of him kissing you and how much you loved it. It was almost as though he could read your mind and, to be fair, he probably could.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” he asked

“About what you’ll do to me.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

He pressed a mockingly sweet kiss against your forehead.

“Don’t fret love,” he said, “you won’t remember this again.”

And then, once again, you sunk into an inky darkness.