#tenth Doctor x reader

[shuichiakainx]

Matt is too adorable in this photo 🥺🧡

[magiccath]

Psychic paper

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the psychic paper betrays the Doctor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[avocado-writing]

home

pairing: 14th doctor x reader & 10th doctor x reader

rating: E

notes: no gender or age given for reader, just that you last saw the doctor fifteen years ago. thank you to @mcganns for being my beta!!

This too shall pass.

It was a sentiment that you had to cling onto when he left, because fuck knows it was the most painful thing you’d ever felt. And you’d run away from actual explosions before. Big ones, in space! Supernovas which could eat entire planets while you hung onto the side of a little blue box. 

And yet none of it even begins to compare to when he fucking left you. 

He said it wouldn’t be forever. Well, he shouted it at you as you fell out of the TARDIS. There was a time explosion, and you got rocketed back to your little flat in the middle of Hackney, on Earth only a few days from when he’d picked you up — but in your reality months of adventure had passed. 

You’d not really settled back in, certain that he was going to come and rescue you. But then days turned into weeks into months and you finally accepted that the Doctor had abandoned you. 

So you went back to it all. Your mundane little existence before a mad, brilliant man had whisked you away. Your boss was a bit miffed that you’d gone AWOL but you were their best employee so they couldn’t afford to let you go, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a command not to let it happen again. The people you loved didn’t really seem to notice your absence that much, which stung; you couldn’t blame them though. You’d probably not miss you much either. 

The Doctor. He made you feel special in a way nobody had before. Like you were the centre of a whole, giant, fantastic universe, and he adored you for it. 

Still. 

No point mulling that over again, is there?

Fifteen years. Things did get better. You moved on eventually. But you still find your thoughts drifting back to him every once in a while, and that fragment of time you spent totally utterly in love with each other. When you think about the way he kissed you, without realising it you end up touching your lips.

No. No. Stop. 

The singing of the kettle snaps you back into reality, and you pour yourself a hot cuppa. Ah, tea. The antidote to everything. You go to turn the radio on for some company as you shift into your morning routine when you hear a knock at the door. 

Probably the postie. He’s a bit early today, you think, but make no more of it as you undo the latch and open the door. 

Your heart stops. 

Because there he is, of course. 

Older. Weathered. Not the young man you once knew but a grownup version of him, as exhausted by life as you are. 

You drop your mug. Quick as a flash the Doctor grabs it out of midair. The tea sloshes onto the floor but at least nothing gets shattered. 

He goes to look up at you, but his attention is drawn back to his hand. 

“I bought you this mug years ago,” he says, utterly amazed. 

You shut the door in his face. 

Well, you try to, anyway. But he sticks a foot in between the door and the frame, with one of those stupid Converse he always wears.

“I know you’re angry, I know. But please let me come in.”

It’s such an absurd statement you find yourself laughing, a high and desperate noise. 

“Absolutely not!” Actually, no. That’s not enough. “How dare you. Why are you even here?!”

“Because I wanted— I needed to see you.”

You still want to slam the door on him, but there’s a desperation to his voice that gives you pause. And when he looks at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Those eyes as lined with age as you are?

Fuck. You’re so weak. 

So that’s how you find the Doctor sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. You lean against the counter, defences still up, eyeing him from over the top of your mug. He drums his fingers against the tablecloth. 

“I like your house. Your calendar is nice, I enjoy the kitten motif.”

“Don’t,” you spit, slamming the mug down and sloshing tea onto the floor, “don’t you dare. You don’t get to waltz back here and start telling me ‘oh, I enjoy your furnishings, haven’t you made a nice little life for yourself since I abandoned you!’ I let you in to speak your piece, though god knows why. Say it and be done.”

The Doctor looks deflated. His shoulders sag, mouth falls. You take a moment to properly look at him. He seems… tired. Tired in a way you never knew him to be when you went on your adventures. Part of you wants to offer comfort, but the other part of you wants to withhold it maliciously. Anything to make him feel the way you felt. 

“I looked for you,” is what he settles on, heavily. You didn’t expect that, and it knocks you. 

“What?”

“I did. After the explosion, I tried searching all over the galaxy for you. I didn’t know where - when - you’d ended up. I scanned and scanned but something stopped you from appearing on the TARDIS’s sensors. I think… the amount of artron energy emitted during the blast somehow cloaked you.”

You say nothing, your silence an invitation for him to continue his explanation. 

“It took years. Literal years, for me. Every spare moment I had, I dedicated to looking for you. Head buried in the circuitry of the TARDIS, trying to fix whatever was hiding you, gave myself a couple of nasty shocks too. And, when I finally tracked you down, I’d regenerated.”

You blink. Right. Yes. He’d explained that, but you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The same person, a different face. 

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me if I didn’t look like me. But I had to try anyway, didn’t I? So I came here. To your house. I got myself all ready for it, knocked on your door… and found that you were married.”

Your fingers grip the counter. 

“Oh.”

“He seemed nice. Loved you a lot, as you deserved. And I couldn’t tell you I was back, could I? I saw you pottering around in the kitchen, making the tea - you were always the best at making tea - and you were happy. How could I ask you to leave that all, uproot the life you’d made for yourself, just to jump back in the TARDIS with me? How could I be so cruel? I couldn’t, could I. So I left again. Tried to move on. Like you did.”

You’re crying now. You can feel hot tears slide down your face and soak into your jumper. 

“Oh, Doctor,” you manage. You want to tell him so much. It feels like it might burst out of you. But instead you settle on:

“Why now?”

He smiles thinly. 

“Because somehow I got this face back, and I wanted to see you. I wanted to be selfish for once.”

You find yourself at the table, on the wonky chair opposite him, sliding your hand over to cover his. It’s rough and warm. Just like you remember. He says your name with reverence, but like it pains him. 

“I never stopped loving you. Ever. Through it all, every adventure, I knew it wasn’t complete because you weren’t there. It just wasn’t the same without wonderful, brilliant you,” he admits. He sounds defeated. It breaks your heart — or, actually, it might just put it back together again. 

A beat passes. His confession lingers in the air, heavy, thick and choking like smoke from an untameable fire. 

“His name was Simon. He was a baker. He was lovely, actually… and we got divorced two years ago.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows. 

“You… what… why?”

“Because he knew there was someone else I never really let go of. Someone else who, despite everything, I still loved.”

He looks you in the eyes, and you see something glimmer there that you long since gave up on. 

Hope. 

And then, suddenly, you’re kissing. 

It’s like nothing has changed. His lips are still rough and searching on yours, a hint of tongue giving away into more the deeper you entangle. He sits you up on the table and steps into the space left by your spread legs, and between each kiss he says your name. It’s full of adoration but lined with desperation, too. 

Like the kisses he gave you the first night you laid together, on a bed in his spaceship floating across the galaxy. When he buried himself inside you and you felt his two hearts beat in rhythm with your own. 

“Doctor…” you manage. 

Fuck. You need him. You didn’t realise how badly you needed him. You didn’t realise a piece of your soul has been missing this whole time, fucking torn out of you and leaving a jagged hole in its wake. And him, back, telling you he loves you and always has? You’re patched together like kintsugi. 

Your Doctor is the molten gold you need. 

“Please. I need to…” he’s so desperate he can barely get the words out, but you nod; he’s undoing the belt buckle of your jeans and pulling them off like they’re silk. When his thin waist meets yours you cross your ankles behind him and lock him into place, and his hands - a little fumbling, a little nervous to be mapping out the plain of you again - begin to trace your chest. You lean into his touch to let him know yes. This is okay. I want this. Make me whole again. 

His warm, rough palms slide under the hem of your shirt and lift it easily over your head, the only break in a while you take from your kiss. You let yourself grab his tie to bring him closer. He’s fully dressed still and you’re almost naked; you remember how he used to like that, enjoy feeling a bit more put together than you. Cheeky blighter. Still though, as his suit scratches your skin, you can’t say you don’t agree. 

However. In this instance he has far too many clothes. 

You tug at his jacket and he knows what you need, letting it fall to the floor with his tie and waistcoat following it. He ruts against you as he unbuttons his shirt a bit, not the whole way, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of his chest. He’s so skinny. You’ve always been a bit worried that, on one of your rougher days, you might snap him in half. You still are now, actually. 

Cupping his face in your hands you let your thumbs caress his cheekbones. Your Doctor. Older but the same. Just like you. 

You can feel him more than half-hard against your leg. No more time wasting. You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him. 

It doesn’t take long to undo his fly and have him in your hand. You’ll always be glad he chose this human anatomy. Though you’d love him no matter how he looks, there’s something wonderful about his cock as it is here. He lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder with a moan if your name. 

“Oh… you’re…”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree, a genuine smile passing your face for the first time in god knows how long. He’s just the right length and on the thick side, and you know what a delicious stretch he is when he pushes inside of you. You can’t wait to feel it again. A couple of pumps and he’s ready, dripping precome and a ruddy red. Another time you’d bend down and taste him, remind yourself what a Time Lord’s cock is like. But now today. Well, not now. 

You lay back, readjusting yourself so he can push your underwear to the side and find your entrance. A couple of fingers - those long, delicate, clever and cunning fingers - press inside you and test you out. You’re ready for him. He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat as he realises and you laugh, properly, throwing your head back. 

“Come on, Doctor. Show me that you’ve missed me.”

He used to never shut up. And now he’s stunned into a desperate silence, lining up with you and pushing in as he does his best to make you feel what he’s been feeling too. 

A loneliness is fixed. He slides home inside you and your hips meet, the both of you letting out a long and ragged breath. You sit there for a moment, locked in the most intimate embrace, and just feel each other. You fist your hands in his shirt. He’s here. He’s real. You feel him trace his palm up your back as if you assure himself of the same thing. 

Slowly he begins to move. It is a long and lovely drag, his cock hitting all the points you missed being touched, and when he feels you gasp he goes harder. The Doctor nuzzles into the skin of your neck, nestling to the warmth of you there, and you hear him repeat a mantra both of your name and “I love you”.

Over and over. As if the two phrases are inextricably linked. 

You’re so full. You’re so light. Everything feels perfect in this moment. And when he reaches between your bodies to touch your sex, push you to the edge, you know you’ll climax for him embarrassingly fast. 

When you come you see stars light up behind your eyes. The sky, the unfiltered and untamed sky takes you over. The Doctor says your name one final fine and releases inside you, his hips riding it out as if to savour every second in the sweet grip of you. 

He can’t look at your face when he asks you. He says it from the safety of your shoulder where his face is buried, because if you say no you know his heart will shatter. 

“Come with me, in the TARDIS again. I know I shouldn’t ask you to leave your home but… you complete me, you know. Always have.”

“Leave my home?! Doctor, don’t be daft. This is just a house in bloody Hackney. You’re my home.”

You pull back to meet his gaze. He’s tired, but bright. His eyes twinkle. And there’s the Doctor you know. 

“And of course,” you continue. And, as the smile engulfs his face and he lights up, “it’s not like I’m doing anything else, am I?”

This time, when you go AWOL from your job, you never come back. 

[gracesimp]

Together Forever

14th doctor x fem!wife!reader

summary: The newly regenerated doctor is finding out some very interesting things about himself. Luckily, his wife is supportive. (super quick drabble).

"Was it just me, or was issac Newton hot?" Donna asks and y/n giggles, her hand tightening around her husband's as he sways them back and forth.

"he was, wasn't he? he was so hot - ooh, is that who I am now?" The Doctor ponders aloud, and his wife snorts, fondly shaking her head.

"Now?" She asks playfully, raising a teasing eyebrow. The Doctor pauses, pouting as he looks down at her, scrunching his nose as he sniffs.

Donna bursts into a fit of loud laughter, actually wiping tears from her eyes as she looks between the two. "Well," She starts, clutching her stomach as she tries to calm herself. "It was never that far from the surface, mate."

"Literally!" Y/n agrees quickly, nodding her head as she blinks up at him. Her husband rolls his eyes and she gently grabs his cheeks, bending him down so she can kiss his lips softly. "I'm happy you're finding yourself, and I'm even happier that you feel comfortable talking about this." She assures quickly.

The Doctor's eyes soften immediately, a small smile slowly replacing his pout as he looks to Y/n with complete adoration and love. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer, kissing her deeply.

The kiss lasts longer than necessary, but neither of them were complaining. He rests his forehead on hers, pecking her lips again and again before mumbling softly, "I love you."

[abbygracerecs]

Doctor Who Fic Reccommendations

9th Doctor

I love you - @alloftheimagines

Just One Yesterday - @lovelyfictional-imagines

10th Doctor

A Noble Ship Embarks - @kisstherainwriting

Now that I saw you, I can never look away - @penguinwithitsarseonfire

Danger Magnet - @thepokyone

Deepest Truth - @quietkatie1864

Are you drunk - @iwritefandomimagines

Having the blues - @doctorslove

The way you look at me - @kisstherainwriting

Make a move - @okay-j-hannah

Snap out of it - @gracesimp

Heartstring - @make-me-imagine

Just like old times - @11thsdoctress

Hear my words - @okay-j-hannah

School Reunion - @starfirette this one is smut

11th Doctor

Deep - @marauder-exe

Little Family - @specialagentlokitty

You make me want things I can't have - @iwritefandomimagines

Touchy - @onceuponachole

You've changed - @11thsdoctress

Starry nights are for coffee and contemplation - @cloginthedrain

My point is... -@11thsdoctress

Is it alright to say what I feel? - @11thsdoctress

12th Doctor

Light in the Dark - @i-imagine-my-doctor

Heartbeat - @morganas-pendragons i cry everytime i read this

A Perfect Day - @quietkatie1864

In Another's Eyes - @cas-kingdom

13th Doctor

Come on in - @fabulouspotatosister

Autistic!reader - @x-neurodivergent-reader

Hidden Colors - @timelord-winchester-22b

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Riled Up (Tenth Doctor)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged (im begging)

Summary: The Doctor grows tired of you trying to work him up.

CW: smut, frottage, closet sex (lmao), the Doctor is jealous, biting, tame dirty talk (imo), thigh riding, gender neutral reader

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Can I ask,” the Doctor says, pulling you down a hallway and into a tight closet. “What- are you doing?” 

He sounds angry. The expression on his face is hard. Eyes wide, mouth pursed into a thin line. You’re almost sure you can see a vein pulsing in his forehead. In his defence, you had been flirting with the ambassador for Pilch. In your defence, however, you’d not been flirting for reasons other than diplomatic strategy. But the Doctor clearly did not like it either way. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you replied indignantly, knowing exactly what you were doing. It had been somewhat of a game for you the last little while. How far can you push him before he snaps? You knew he wanted you, and he knew that you wanted him. You weren’t entirely sure what it was that was holding him back, but you were determined to break that barrier down brick by brick. It just so happened that the one time you weren’t actively trying to turn him on and get him to shag you in the bushes was the one time it apparently seemed to work.

“Bollocks,” he growled, pushing you up against the closet wall. The Doctor crowded into your space, nosing at your jaw and forcing you to raise your chin in submission. You sucked in a breath, hands reaching for his hips as he forced your knees apart and slotted his own between them. “You’re teasing me. You’ve been taunting me for weeks. Is this what you want?” 

The Doctor bit at your jaw, the sharpness of his teeth making you whimper. His hands squeezed at your hips and he rubbed his knee against you. 

“O-oh,” you whimpered before biting your lip to keep the sounds in. 

The Doctor tutted, pulling you into a kiss to make you release your lip as he rubbed your hips over his leg, rolling you against him so that the friction jolted electric pleasure up your spine.

“Want- want to hear you,” he said heavily, eyes dark with lust. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer my question, love.” 

Your hips begin to move of their own accord, working with the push and pull of his warm hands to bring you closer to the edge. Oh, this was not how you were expecting today to go. Not that you were complaining, of course. 

“I- It wasn’t my intention,” you panted, wrapping your arms around him tighter and moaning into his ear. He shivered as the sounds reverberated through his system. “But I can’t say I haven’t been trying to wind y-ngh-you up lately.” You nipped his earlobe to punctuate the point. 

The Doctor rubs his leg up against you harshly, delighting in the moans that fall from your pretty mouth.  

“Mm, see- I think you’re a liar,” he chuckles, gripping particularly tight at your hip. “You want this. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? The Doctor, huh? Bit of an age gap, but I’ll let it slide.” 

One of his hands releases your hip to palm at himself in his trousers. He groans, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Oh-oh- yes, maybe I should do this more often, hm? Maybe,” he trails off, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat. “Maybe I should split you open on my cock? Watch you tire yourself out. I’d like that. Would you like that? Oh, look at that blush. You would, wouldn’t you? You want to split yourself open on the Doctor’s cock.” 

He lets out a breathy laugh as you grind against him harder, getting so close now. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, bouncing his leg up to give you the extra stimulation. “Cum for me- God, please- cum for me.” 

It hits you all at once, the pleasure rippling from your core and through your body. You can feel your muscles spasming as you continue to rut against him, your arms grow tired and heavy and the Doctor laughs as he has to hold you up while your legs twitch with pleasure. 

“That’s it, love- just like that- oh, so good for me, aren’t you? Shh, that’s it. You’re alright, love.” 

The Doctor caresses your hair, holding you up and in his embrace. You’re panting into his shoulder, nerves alight and scorched with pleasure. 

“I don’t think the Ambassador is going to be happy that you took his newest toy,” you panted with a giggle. The Doctor grins that oh-so-charming smile of his. 

“I don’t think I care. Do you?” 

Your exhausted grin splits wider.

“Not really,” you reply. 

“Good.”

[meshla-cyarika]

[dreamtheatre]

how do you think your favorite doctor(s) would act when they're sick or injured and their companion is caring for them? does that make any sense lol

a/n ooo I have ideas for this one!

Pairing: 10/11/12 Doctors x GN!Reader Fandom: Doctor Who Genre: headcannons Word Count: 815 Warnings: slight mentions of injuries

10th Doctor

"what!?"

he would deny needing help, but with enough pleading and puppy-dog-eyes you would eventually get him to settle down enough to let you stop him from going on an adventure

"i'm fine!"

"you got stabbed by a half-platypus-half-jaguar-half-whatever-the-hell-that-thing-was alien on a jungle planet, doctor. you're not fine."

you would try to get him to stay in bed, but whenever you left his room for more than a minute you'd return to find him either jumping up and down on the bed or running around the TARDIS halls.

"i can't just sit around doing nothing all day!" although when you were around in his room he found it fine to sit around.

eventually, you and the TARDIS ganged up on him and the TARDIS locked the door to his room, only opening it when you wanted to leave.

the TARDIS also moved your things to his bedroom so that you could make sure he didn't do anything silly while his injury was being healed, and when his wound had finally healed, both you and the time lord came to a silent mutual agreement that your things wouldn't be moving back.

11th Doctor

like his previous regeneration, he would be in denial that he had any sort of injury whatsoever, even after seeing the results from the TARDIS scan.

you and the TARDIS had to force him away from the console room into his bedroom.

when you lounged around the TARDIS for the next couple of hours, you heard him banging at his door (which the TARDIS had locked) and he only stopped when you finally opened the door for him.

"...yes?"

there would be silence before he spoke meekly. "if you're going to force me in here... at least keep me company?" you weren't exactly complaining.

for the next couple of days, you would help the timelord change his bandages with the assistance of the TARDIS and bring food to him (three whole days of endless requests of jammie dodgers and fish fingers and custard... the only reason you coped was because it was the doctor asking).

he would 100% seek any form of physical contact with you, if you were okay with that. he would lay his head on your shoulder while you watched your favourite TV show. not his, since he stated he didn't have one (he did, but he wanted to watch whatever you wanted to watch). he would fall asleep with his head in your lap as you read whatever book the TARDIS gave you aloud to him.

after he recovered, he would remember all the things you let slip during your conversations with him. your favourite place that you had travelled to with him so far (he would take you back), your favourite foods and drinks, and any place you wanted to go. whatever you asked, the doctor would gladly give to you.

12th Doctor

this doctor would try endlessly to convince you that he's just fine

he's a time lord, after all, a simple, common human cold would not affect him! (that's what he kept telling himself, choosing to ignore the constant coughs and sniffles that escaped from him)

when you ask him if he's alright when you witness him fall asleep for the first time (the doctor... sleeping! you never thought you'd see this day), he waves you off and takes you on an adventure

little did he know that that adventure would end in you dragging him back to the TARDIS after he offended some kind of turtle-human alien hybrid race and was too sick to defend the two of you

after that, the doctor continues to grumble and complain when you insist on not going on any adventures for a while (he secretly is grateful, but he'd never tell you that)

you'd find him asleep in the most random places - on the floor of the console room, in the library... etc

noticing how he's intentionally ignoring your asks to help him, you and the TARDIS work together to find little ways to make him feel better.

you prepare tea in the kitchen and get the TARDIS to send it to his room for him with a small note along the lines of "get better soon!" from you. you make him the comfort meal the two of you found together when you travelled. you send him new books to read and sheet music to play on his guitar

in his absence (he refuses to let you in his room to see him in such a weak state), you find a new guitar appear in your room and you start to teach yourself how to play. you learn a few basic chords and begin to build up your skills until one day, you notice someone standing behind you.

"doctor?"

"yes?"

"are you okay now?"

"yes."

there would be a silent pause before the doctor offered tentatively to teach you how to play the guitar properly, and only a short pause before you agreed.

the doctor would never admit that it was him who gifted you the guitar, though

end xx dreamtheatre requests are open! .

[jophiel-extras]

summary :: tenth doctor x reader smut drabble

warning :: slightly bitter, but mainly horny

note :: going to start taking requests for doctor who

He’d slipped in with a low grunt that had his sternum rumbling. With your head pressed against his chest, you could hear the double thudding of his hearts as they worked to sustain his quick breathing.

You had chittered at the fullness, arms now weak and shaky around him, clinging to his blazer. The warmth of him was trapped in by his long coat, and as the thickness of it warmed your naked skin too. You felt a sudden wave of bashfulness cool you from the fact that you were half naked, and The Doctor was fully dressed. Aside from his unbutton and unzipped pants, he had full coverage.

But the thought had slipped your mind as quickly as it came, head now full of the sensations that buzzed through your body as The Doctor rocked himself inside you with an aching slowness. Softly, you had exhaled, a sign of relief from something you weren’t quite sure of. As acknowledgment, The Doctor pressed his lips to your head and kissed you allowing himself to swallow the smell and feel of you.

Moments like these were far and few but when they occurred, The Doctor wished with all of his two hearts that time would stop and he could live in the bliss forever. His desire for it made the climax that much more intense. He needed it but he hated it so much when it was over. So, slowly he pulled himself in and out against your flittering walls. Like a marathon all the others would run, The Doctor walked, slowly and steadily, he walked you to your orgasm.

The thick perfume of sex filled the TARDIS, you quivered in the doctors arms as he continued, the tight spasming of your heat forcing his own delayed orgasm. For a moment, his gliding thrusts became deep and stuttered as his seed slipped inside of you. You could feel the liquid pool inside and shivered. As the euphoria washed over him, The Doctor’s hands gripped you with an uncomfortable amount of pressure. Holding you to him. The desperation of a man abandoned too many times in his life.

Soon, time pulled you away and the moment was over. Already, he was craving it again.

[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?"

[cometeore]

hi i hope ur having a good day ^^ can i get some 10th doctor headcanons? nsfw plz! thank you so much, i love ur writing! i was so happy when i saw that you had doctor who on your list :) 🤍

thank you so much! i hope your day has been going good as well. of course you can, ive been waiting for someone to ask.

TENTH DOCTOR NSFW HEADCANONS

gn reader/18+ only (requests are open!)

• Ten has experience. He’s lived for so long, been to so many places, he has experience. And he knows how to use it.

• He likes your hands in his hair. Pulling it, playing with it, scratching his scalp, whatever. It’s not only grounding, but its also hot.

• A very soft dom. Lots of praise, kisses, and gentle touches. But when he’s subbing he’s very needy. Whiny, almost begging.

• He likes to look into your eyes. He’ll get you in a position where he’s looking right at your face, and if you hide your face or close your eyes he’ll have you open them right back up and show him just how pretty they are.

• Ten holds you during sex. By the hips, the thighs, the hair, even the neck, he is holding you. He likes having you close to him. It keeps him conscious, lets him know that this is real. That you’re real, and that you’re there.

• He’s a love maker, but he can do a quickie. He does them typically if you both need quick release or if you’re on a mission together.

• He likes when you ride his thighs. Often, he’ll have you sitting in his lap and grinding up on his thigh under a table while you’re around other people if you both need that relief.

• Being a Timelord, he has a lot of stamina. He can last longer than you most of the time. He also cums a lot.

• After sex, he’ll have you both washed up and then he’ll be attached to you like a parasite. Snuggling you, holding you as close as he can, asking you if you need anything.

• He’s more length than girth.

• It’s very easy to rile up the Doctor. A passing touch, a light kiss to his jaw, touching his thigh while he’s seated near you, even sitting in his lap can get him turned on.

• He likes to leave marks. He likes to see them on your collarbone when you wear low cut shirts and on your thighs when you wear shorts or skirts. He likes to know that you’re there, and that you’re his. That you belong to him.

• Huge on aftercare. He’s got you washed up and eating snacks within minutes of you both finishing, cuddling you while you eat on whatever he’d brought you.

[magiccath]

The Ring

tenth doctor x f!reader

Summary: In which the only way for you and the Doctor to get out of this one is a fake marriage. But how fake is it really?

You keeled over, your breath coming out in short pants. You weren't as good at this running thing as the Doctor was. 

Sensing you weren’t behind him, the Doctor turned to check on you. You threw your thumb up, signaling that you were okay. You didn’t like the Doctor worrying about you. 

“I’m sure we’ve lost them for now,” he assured, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. It was a nervous tick that he had.

“What are we going to do?” You asked once you had caught your breath. You allowed your legs to fold underneath you, sitting in the grass. The Doctor crouched down next to you. 

It was supposed to be a nice vacation, a break from the hustle and bustle of time traveling. You had explicitly asked for a relaxing trip, one where you didn’t have to save the world or run for your life. You should have known that was never how it was with the Doctor. 

Everything was fine at first. The alien town the Doctor had selected for your trip was throwing an elaborate festival. You were more than happy to partake in the dancing and sample the foreign foods. What you failed to notice was the ritual behind the festival. The village selected an unmarried woman each year to sacrifice to their gods. In retrospect, it wasn’t the weirdest ritual you had encountered over the years. What made it so uncomfortable was the fact they had selected you. 

“I would rather not be a blood sacrifice,” you admitted, pushing your wayward hair out of your face. 

“I won’t let that happen,” The Doctor said seriously, taking your hand gently. He had the duty of care, something that he didn’t take lightly. 

“I’m not sure how much good we are against a whole village of bloodthirsty aliens,” you laughed, burying your head in your hands. You should have been scared, upset even. Instead, you found the whole thing funny. You supposed that was a side effect of traveling with the Doctor. Everything could always be worse, and everything in front of you could always be funny. You just had to frame it the right way.

“I have an idea,” the Doctor murmured. You looked up at him, confused. He only whispered things when he knew you wouldn’t like them. 

“They only want to sacrifice you because you’re unmarried,” he stated. You stared at him, unsure of the point he was trying to make. 

He groaned, running a hand down his face in frustration. 

“I’m gonna need you to spell this one out for me,” you laughed lightly.

The Doctor swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing aggressively. “We could get married,” he said matter-of-factly, with the same tone he used to ask if you wanted tea or coffee in the morning. 

“What?” you asked, wide-eyed. The Doctor swallowed again, his eyes diverting from yours. 

You loved the Doctor, in every sense of the word. He was your home, your comfort. He was everything and more to you. But he only loved you as a friend, and you were more than willing to accept that love. It was better to love him like this than not at all. 

“They can’t sacrifice you if we get married.” 

“No, I got that part,” you rushed out, waving your hands about anxiously.

“You,” you sighed, pausing before continuing, “marry me?” 

“To save your life, yes,” the Doctor said like it was the simplest thing in the world. He would walk to the ends of the universe for you. He had.

“Can we do that?” you laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. The whole thing felt too good to be true. 

“I can’t think of anyone else I would rather fake-marry,” he smiled, taking your hands in his again. 

You grinned, the smile taking over your whole face. The Doctor loved it when you smiled like that. He loved it even more when he made you smile like that. 

“Let’s get fake married!” you laughed, jumping up from the grass. The Doctor nodded in agreement, standing up next to you. 

“How exactly…” you trailed off. “Are we going to get fake married?” The Doctor had a habit of making plans without a way to execute them. 

It wasn’t like you could just walk into the village church and get married. You certainly couldn’t go back to the TARDIS, or that would have been the plan before suggesting a falsified marriage.

“There was a little cottage on the outskirts of town, we can hope that there’s an inhabitant there who can serve as a witness?” He suggested. 

You couldn’t come up with a better idea so you agreed, following the Doctor as he walked off into the distance. 

You tried not to read too much into the whole marriage thing. The Doctor was doing it to save your life, nothing more. Still, the mere idea of it left your skin tingling and your heart racing. 

You were so lost in thought you hardly noticed the cottage creeping up on you until you were standing on the front steps. 

The Doctor rapped his knuckles against the wood softly before stepping back. You waited in silence for a few moments. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What if this didn’t work? 

The door flung open, revealing an old woman. 

“What do you want?” She barked, clearly disturbed by the visit. 

The Doctor cleared his throat, searching for his words. You frowned, he usually didn’t have any trouble talking to strangers. 

“This is a bit of a strange request,” he laughed lightly, his hand drifting towards the back of his neck subconsciously. 

“Spit it out, young man.” 

You bit back a giggle. The Doctor was far from young, even if this face was youthful. 

“We need a witness for our wedding,” he rushed, his words coming out in hurried clusters. 

The woman remained silent for a moment, her eyes darting between the two of you. You could see hundreds of questions forming in her mind before she shook them away. 

“I don’t want to know,” she murmured as she opened the door. 

You exchanged a look of relief with the Time Lord before following her inside. 

She bustled about her cottage, sorting things out while the two of you fiddled anxiously in the corner. 

“Well, let's get on with it,” she finally sighed. 

The Doctor nodded timidly, holding out his hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, your fingers interlocking instantaneously. You had held hands hundreds of times, yet it felt different.

With his other hand, the Doctor rifled about in the pockets of his coat. You frowned, wondering what could possibly be in there. Did he really need a jammy dodger from the depths of his pocket right now? Finally, his hand slipped out of the pocket holding two silver rings. 

“Why, on Earth, are you carrying around wedding bands?” you laughed. He only shrugged, handing the simple rings over to the old woman. She examined the objects in her hand wistfully, turning them over in her hand. 

“I can’t say I’m a professional at this,” she warned. It didn’t really matter to either of you.

The Doctor took your other hand in his, standing face-to-face with you. You laughed at the domesticity of it. 

“Do you,” the woman paused, looking at the Doctor. 

“John Smith,” The Doctor smiled. You shook your head at his fake name. You had told him hundreds of times that he should change it. No one was really named John Smith, that's the kind of name you only ever found in books. 

“Alright,” the woman said, not even blinking. “Do you, John Smith, take this woman to love and hold blah, blah, blah?” She finished, looking back to the Doctor. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were glued to you, studying every single aspect of your face. He never wanted to forget this moment. From your end of things, you were left with a sickly feeling that you had food on your face. 

“I do,” He smiled brightly. 

“And you?” she turned to you, repeating the process. 

“Absolutely,” you grinned. 

The woman handed you each a ring, which you placed on the other’s hand. You noted the slight shake in the Doctor’s hands as he slipped the silver band onto your finger.

You had always wanted to get married. Sure, you never imagined it like this. Standing in some random cottage in a pair of worn-out jeans exchanging wedding bands in order to save your life was never your plan. Even still, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“You may kiss the bride,” The old woman chided, looking at you two disapprovingly. You were so busy looking into the Doctor’s eyes that you completely forgot about the whole kissing part of getting married. 

A scarlet flush overtook your face, but the Doctor pretended not to notice. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands gently, angling it upwards towards his. Slowly, he dipped his way down until his lips were inches away from yours. 

You could feel his breath on your mouth, you noted each and every twitch of his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as he eliminated the gap, his mouth crashing into yours. 

He very well could have given you a chaste kiss, the kind you give your gran on Christmas Eve. Instead, he kissed you like his life depended on it. Like he had been thinking about kissing you for eons. 

His mouth fit against yours perfectly. There was no other way to describe it. 

He pulled away slowly, leaving you stunned and breathless. Your eyes remained closed for a moment, taking it all in. When they finally opened, you saw him. Your Doctor. The impossible, magnificent, loving creature in front of you. It was foolish to claim that such a being was yours alone, but you couldn’t see it any other way. 

“Congratulations,” the old woman smiled, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, pushing your hair out of your face. 

-

You didn’t keep the ring on long. A few days after your wedding it came off with the rest of your jewelry before bed. You just never put it back on. It was a fake wedding after all. 

That didn’t mean that you threw it away though. Quite the opposite. The ring sat on your bedside table, occasionally glimmering in the light. 

Sometimes, you would run your fingers over it before bed. You relished the idea of it all. The memory of his hands holding yours, the feeling of his lips on yours. It haunted you.

The Doctor, however, never took it off. Not after the wedding. Not before bed. Not when he fiddled with the wires under the TARDIS console. 

You noticed this one evening, the dimmed lights of the control room catching on the polished metal. 

“Why do you still wear that?” you asked, gesturing to the Doctor’s left hand. His eyes traveled to the band on his finger that he had been idly spinning. 

“It’s my wedding band,” he shrugged as if it was as simple as that. 

“I’m not sure you can call it that,” you laughed, “I’m not even sure our wedding was legal.” 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he frowned, still looking at the ring. 

“I can take it off if it bothers you,” he suggested. He didn’t want to take it off, not ever. But if you wanted him to, he would. 

“It doesn’t,” you whispered, staring at the space where your own ring used to be. The feeling of his lips came back to you, and you had to push it to the side. 

“Did it mean nothing to you?” He asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. If you hadn’t been listening you might have missed it. 

“Not at all,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“You don’t wear yours,” he commented, taking your left hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, not trusting yourself to meet his eye. 

“You married me to save my life,” you stated. 

“And?” 

“It was a fake marriage.” 

“Not to me,” he whispered, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes drifted up to his face. He was looking at your hand with a pained expression. For the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps the absence of your ring was upsetting to him. For so long, you had assumed that he just wanted to forget the whole thing. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “I always wanted you to be my wife.” 

You didn’t know what to say. For a minute, you hardly believed the words coming from his mouth. 

“I always wanted you to be my husband,” you whispered, leaning in towards him. You paused, your breath bouncing off of his lips. It reminded you of your first kiss, the familiarity of it shocking. 

You learned in and kissed him gently, a tender kiss to test the waters. You pulled away, unsure if this was what he wanted. The Doctor gripped your face, crashing his lips against yours in a much more urgent matter. You smiled against his mouth, melting into the kiss. 

“My wife,” he chuckled between the kisses he planted all over your face. 

“My husband.”

[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.

[gracesimp]

Say It

tenth doctor x fem!reader

Warnings: smut. praise, edging, dom!doctor.

MINORS DNI

First time ever writing smut. oh god.

Summary: After feeling insecure about her body, (previous chubby!reader, but can be read by non-chubby reader I think), the Doctor shows Y/n just how much he loves it.

"Say it." He commands, voice thick. Y/n's mouth stays open as she looks up to the ceiling, her thick thighs wrapped around the Doctor as he thrusts into her pussy. "Now."

"I-I can't." She manages to cry out, eyes closing tightly as the knot in her belly tightens. The Doctor growls, digging his nails into her hips, the mixture of the spark of pain and pure pleasure making her clench around him.

"Be a good girl and say it." He grunts as his hips thrust harder and faster. Y/n moans loudly as he brushes against her clit with every push. The noise is probably enough to wake Rose from down the corridor, but if anything, that just motivates the Doctor more.

"Please, I-" She's on the verge of coming, and he knows, so he slows down.

"Say it!" He yells, his hips slowing to an almost stop, causing a whine of desperation and protest to leave Y/n's lips. "If you don't say it, I won't let you cum."

"Oh, my-" Y/n whimpers, her face heating as she shyly avoids his eyes. He removes one hand from her hip and forcefully turns her head to meet his.

"I'll stop." He threatens.

In an act of desperation as the feeling begins to dissipate with his halted movements, Y/n quickly mutters the words he had been demanding of her since the beginning. Since he kissed her neck, then her belly, then her thighs. When he mumbled while sucking her clit, to now as he demands her to say it as he pushes into her so deep. "I'm perfect."

To taunt her further, he leans down, still refusing to move his hips as his cock was buried in her soaking sex. "Couldn't hear you."

"I'm perfect!" She screams. Begs. He smirks, finally satisfied as he begins to move again, causing a gasp to leave both of their lips.

"That's it," He praises softly, giving her a quick kiss before resuming to his vigorous thrusting. "such a good girl. Well done, my angel. And you know what happens to good girls, don't you?" He teases, their skin slapping and headboard banging filling the room. "They get rewarded."

With that, he uses his fingers to rub her clit as he fucks her. She moans loudly, tits bouncing with every hard plunge of his cock deep into her. "Cum for me, angel." He whispers, the feeling of her clenching around him urging him to his own release. "Fuck, angel, cum for me, you can do it."

[specialagentlokitty]

10th doctor x deaf!reader - the way you talk

Heya! Absolutely love your work! I've been rewatching doctor who ready for davids comeback😍 it's kinda hard because i'm deaf and sometimes the subtitles dont keep up with the timings😫 i was wondering if i could request a 10th doctor with a deaf reader if possible pleaseeee, thanks 💜 - Anon💜

A/N: Italics will be sign language

The TARDIS enabled the doctor to speak and listen to every language there was.

And for somebody like it, it was amazing, incredibly useful, meaning there wasn’t anything that would be lost in translation.

But, he realised there was limitations to this, and that he wouldn’t make him an expert in some areas, especially sign language.

He knew some, enough to get by if needed.

But when he met you, he realised that wouldn’t be enough if he wanted to communicate with you.

You talked through notepads and text messages, but for him it wasn’t enough, he wanted more. He wanted to communicate with you the way you had to.

So, when he had some free time, which surprisingly was quite a lot considering he always seemed so busy, he began to learn.

And when he next went to pick you up, he wore a grin from ear to ear as he waved at you.

You waved back, following him into the TARDIS, and you set your notepad and pen on the console, putting your bag out of the way before coming back over.

The doctor was flicking through the notepad, and you waved your hand at him, gesturing for him to pass it back.

Quickly writing in it, you flipped it over and held it out to him.

‘Where are we going?’

The doctor beamed.

He took it from you and set it down, making you furrow your brows a little bit, and he began to put some coordinates in.

You took the notepad again, asking him where he was taking you, but he wouldn’t reply, so you knew it was a surprise he had planned for you.

Which wasn’t so bad, except usually his surprises ended in some sort of running or rescue situation.

He was bouncing around, and you smiled as you watched him, leaning against the railing as you just watched him bounce from thing to thing, doing whatever it was he needed to do.

You didn’t quite know how the whole TARDIS worked, and he had offered to explain it, but you didn’t want him to sit there for hour writing it all down.

You were happy not knowing.

As long as you were travelling with him you didn’t care.

He bounding over, and with a grin he held out his hand to you.

“Come with me.” He said.

He knew you could lip read, so often he would just speak to you.

Sometimes he would forget and be stood behind you, trying to have a whole conversation with you and getting confused when you wouldn’t talk back.

You smiled, placing your hand in his, letting him lead you to the doors and outside.

It was bright, multiple sun sun the sky. It was warm, it wasn’t hot, it seemed like the perfect temperature.

The sand was a vibrant shade of gold, and in the distance the heatwaves rippled about, creating almost an illusion if there being water over there.

The doctor looked at you, smiling even more when he saw you smiling, and he reached out, tapping your shoulder.

You turned to him and he took a small breath.

I don’t know if I’m doing this right, I’m still learning.

Your eyes shot open at the sight of him signing, carefully watching what he was doing as he carried on.

But I want to make it easier for you to talk.

He looked at you slightly nervous.

How long have you been learning? When did you start?

You carried on signing questions and he quickly took your hands to stop you.

Laughing slightly, the doctor smiled and let go.

Not so fast, I’m still learning.

You grinned sheepishly.

Sorry. Why did you start?

So I could talk to you.

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

Yes we write or text to each other, but I want to talk to you properly. The way you do, I wanted to make it easier on you.

You smiled and rushed to hug him tightly, and he happily hugged you back.

He had a long way to go, but with some practice and you to help guide him, he would be able to have longer conversations with you in no time

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Perhaps It's Time (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You think you're finally ready to have your cherry popped.

CW: virgin!reader, sort of implied smut, discussions around sex

Doctor Who Tag List: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It’s not necessarily something you’d thought about a whole lot. You just assumed like most other people that you’d be ready when you were ready. It wasn’t for lack of interest, either. You’d had partners before, but you were younger then, and while conceptually the idea of sex was appealing- when it got down to it, you just weren’t ready. 

But that was then and this was now. 

You’d been travelling with the Doctor for at least a year. Probably longer, if you really stopped to think about it. The two of you had gotten together sometime around month six or seven, and you hadn’t looked back since. 

The Doctor was the best partner you could ask for. He took you on plenty of dates, made sure you had tasty things to eat, gave you cuddles whenever he could, and was very respectful of all your wishes and boundaries. 

He’d never so much as laid a hand on your thigh with sexual intentions. And yes, while this was good at the beginning of your relationship, you were finding yourself growing more frustrated by the day with his lack of instigation. 

“Hey, uh, Doctor?” You ask him, surprising yourself as the words slip past your mouth. The being in question turned towards you, a stick of red liquorice hanging out of his mouth. He hummed as an invitation for you to go on. “How come you haven’t- uh, how come we haven’t… you know.” 

The Doctor’s brows furrow in confusion, and he removes the liquorice from his mouth, clearly resisting the urge to play with it. 

“Oh, erm- haven’t really thought about it,” he replies, making the short trip over to stand before you. “That’s not me saying I don’t want to. I want to. Oh yes, I want to.” This is the first time you’ve noticed that lustful gleam in his eye, the colour darkening just a shade as he looks you over hungrily. 

Your cheeks flush a shade darker. Just enough to be noticed. Your eyes are trained on his lips and the way he licks them as though he’s thinking about all the ways he could make you come undone with his mouth alone. Let’s be real, though, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been thinking about that since you got together either. 

“So why haven’t we?” You ask breathily. The Doctor crowds you up against the console of the TARDIS, getting as close as he can without making you uncomfortable (as if he ever could). He gives you enough room to move out and away if you need to. Always so considerate of your feelings, the Doctor was. 

“Well,” he replies, brushing a finger down your cheek softly. “Thought you weren’t ready. ‘Sides, I don’t mind waiting. I’m here for you, and you can take as long as you need to. I’m not going anywhere, am I?” 

The change in tone from dark and lustful to soft and caring almost gives you whiplash, but you also appreciate it. How could you ever fall for anyone else? Answer, you couldn’t. Maybe you’d never had your cherry popped because you were simply waiting for the Doctor.

“I think I’m ready,” you say, biting at your lip. The Doctor grins, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. He pulls away and kisses you hard on the mouth. His lips still taste of liquorice and you melt against him. 

“I- I don’t want to right now,” you add dazedly when he gives you space to breathe. You’re flushed from head to toe, heart swelling with happiness. “But I’m ready, I think. For when we want to.” And when you have the time. That prerequisite was also pretty important for something like this. 

“I don’t need it to be special, just- when it happens it happens.” 

The Doctor winked, sticking his red liquorice back into his mouth with a wide grin. 

“Sounds spontaneous. I like it.” 

You bet he does.