#the doctor x you

[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. 

[awkward-halfhug]

permission | eleventh doctor x reader

summary: you have your first kiss with the Doctor

sequel here

(also on my ao3)

2.1k

He's gone and done something stupid again. Stupid and heroic and brave and you're proud of him and angry at him at the same time.

You had prepared things to say to him. Angry things. But looking at him now, fresh from the fight, planet saved and looking like he's just avoided death by mere inches, all your frustrated words are gone. You still feel something strong, but it's not quite anger. Not mostly.

Now, the feelings you usually shove to the way way back of your subconscious are surging through you with a vengeance. He's standing there in front of you like that and you can't ignore it.

There's a split in his bottom lip, and that's sort of attractive, and it shouldn't be. He's got cuts on his arms and a bit of blood on his face, right by his temple, and that shouldn't be attractive either, but it is. So is the dirt on his clothes, his tie hanging undone around his collar, his shirtsleeves rolled up messily to the elbows. His hair is all over the place and he has this wild look in his eyes that you can't quite decipher.

He's never looked more beautiful.

You swallow, hard. You need to get a hold of herself. You know you do. But you don't want to get a hold of yourself. Your fingers itch to reach out and touch him.

You hold back. Because of the what ifs, because of who you are and who he is and how he deserves more and how very insignificant you are. You hold back like you always do.

Until you don't.

His collar is between your hands before you can talk yourself out of it, yanking him to you. And he's surprised, you can tell by the little yelp he gives, but you hope it's not bad surprised.

Now that he's close, your heart beats faster. Both of his seem to as well, although that could be because you surprised him. You hope that's not why. His eyes seem less wild now, but you still can't read the emotion in them, which does nothing for your confidence in this situation.

You clear your throat.

"Doctor?" You say, much quieter than you meant to.

"Mmm?" He manages.

"May I kiss you?" You rasp out, somehow even quieter than before.

At this, the Doctor's expression clears and morphs into another complicated one. Mild shock, delight(?), and for some reason, amusement. He's got a funny little lopsided smile on his face when he replies after a thoughtful moment.

"Yes, you most certainly may."

You huff out a relieved laugh, before slowly drawing yourself up onto your tiptoes, and placing your palms on either side of his head. Your gaze meets his with shyness, but upon reading...something...in his eyes, you gain the confidence you need.  Hesitantly, you close the gap between you and places your lips very gently on his face, right at the edge of his mouth.

You feels his breath catch. You hope that was okay. He said it was, so you'll try not to worry yourself over it.

You keeps your lips pressed there a moment.  The Doctor won't have known it, but he is now your very first kiss, and you want to remember this moment for a long time to come.

Eventually though, you pull back, just a little, and move to place your second kiss on his nose. You close your eyes for a second and smile to yourself, because you're sure that must seem silly to him, but you can't help it. You've been wanting to do that for a long time.

You pull back and look in his eyes, belatedly realizing that you had asked for one kiss, but took two. You hope he isn't upset.

But he doesnt look upset. Although you still can't quite tell what it is his eyes are saying at the moment. He looks a little dazed. But you don't see anger. You do see confusion, however. But you did ask him, so why--?

"Doctor?" Your voice is slighter louder than it was before.

"Huh?" His has gotten quieter.

"Is this okay?"

"Ve-" he tries to say, but seems to choke on the word and starts again. "Very." He answers, and he seems sincere.

You should probably leave well enough alone now. He's probably tired. He probably wants to go home to the TARDIS and eat his weight in pastries and then go lose himself in machinery. You should probably let him. Still, you find yourself asking-

"Is...Is it okay if I...kiss you again?"

He looks on the verge of tears now and you have no idea why that is but you feel sorry immediately. You're about to backtrack when he smiles. A tender, genuine smile, full of affection. That, you can identify. And it's aimed at you. Now you want to cry.

He nods and you smile back at him.

You lean in and places your third kiss ever, on the other side of his mouth. Then your fourth ever kiss, on his cheek, right under his left eye. You feel him smile as you do so, and are surprised to find yourself slightly annoyed by that. It's hard enough to reach his face, even with him bending down slightly, and you on your tiptoes. Why must he move his face around like that?

He starts laughing abruptly and you realize you're pouting. You pull back, but when he reaches for you, you stop retreating.

His hands hover over your hips, waiting, as he asks you, "May I?"

You're not sure what he's asking, but you trust him. You nod.

His hands grip your sides firmly, but gently, as he lifts you up and places you on a surface behind you that you weren't even aware was there in the first place. He steps forward into your space and you realize you're now eye level.

"Proceed." He says. His eyes are playful when he says it, but he seems nervous somehow. The Doctor, 6 foot tall Gallifreyan, Oncoming Storm, your best friend the Doctor, nervous? Because of you?

It just doesn't make sense. So you file it away for further analysis at a later time. Right now, you do what he says, and proceed.

You bring your hands back up to his face and take a moment to just brush your fingers across his skin. He closes his eyes. You think that's a good thing. Then you lean in and place your...fifth? Or fourth? You're going to have to stop counting. Seems kind of silly at this point. A wave of giddiness surges through you as you realize you've now had too many kisses to keep track of. And they've all been with the Doctor. Your Doctor. Your best friend.

You place your possibly-fifth kiss right under his other eye. Then another just between his eyebrows. A feather- light kiss on one closed eye, then the other.

His breathing's gotten heavy, and his hands tighten a little on your hips. Your face heats a bit. You'd forgotten his hands were there.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter and a tear escapes.

You let out an alarmed noise and his eyes open again, but you can't tell if he looks sad or not. You give him a moment to say something. He looks like he wants to.

"Can I kiss you now?" His voice sounds much more stable than the tear would suggest.

His question, while perfectly reasonable, has you floored. You're not sure why, but you hadn't considered that he would want to kiss you. You're aware kissing is usually a mutual thing but...but still.

Truthfully You're a little bit scared. You're not quite sure you're ready for...for the kind of kissing he's probably used to.

Her heart is thudding in your chest by the time you finally work up the courage to answer him.

"If...if you want to?" It came out like a question. Smooth.

One of his hands reaches up to cradle your head, like you did with his. And he brings his lips to your face, just to the side of your mouth, just like you had done to him. You feel herself gasping, just like he had. You get it now.

He takes his time, before bringing his lips to the tip of your nose, then the other side of your mouth, then to just below your eyes, one by one, tracing the same path you made with your lips on his face. It's so tender, and torturous and loving that it makes your chest ache. By the time he's done placing a kiss on each of your closed eyes you can feel yourself crying. Not just one tear, like the Doctor had, but a steady stream of them out of both eyes. You get that now too.

You feel his arms wrap around you, feel him pull you tight against his chest, and you sob. You don't even know what you're sobbing for, you just can't stop now. Your body wracks as the sobbing gets harder and his arms tighten around you, almost crushing you to him.

You're pretty sure this is not how someone's first kiss is supposed to go. Or someone's first several kisses. You were so happy a few moments ago. You're still  happy, you're pretty sure of it. So why can't you stop crying? Whatever the emotion is that you're feeling, it's strong.

The Doctor's soothing voice breaks through your confused thoughts. He's saying things like "it's alright" and similar phrases, but amongst them are words in another language you only hear him speak when he thinks he's alone.

That thought distracts you enough to calm you down, and you pull herself together. Wiping your face with your sleeves, you pull back from him slightly. His arms loosen from around you but drop back down to your hips, not willing to release you yet. The thought makes you feel light again.

"Sorry" you say to his chest.

The Doctor hooks a finger under your chin and gently brings your face up to look at him.

Whatever it was you thought you'd see in his face- pity, awkwardness, regret; it's not there. What you see is understanding. Warmth. Affection. He smiles at you and you almost can't take it. Almost starts crying again. You doesn't, but just barely. What is wrong with you today?

"Can I have just one more kiss?" The Doctor whispers, and he looks unsure you'll say yes. You're acting like a crybaby, of course he's afraid you'll burst into tears again. But you do want another kiss, whether the tears give that impression or not.

You look him in the eyes and nod. You brace yourself for another feather light brush to your cheek.

He ducks his head, hesitates, and then his lips capture yours. You gasp. His mouth moves against yours and your brain short circuits. It takes you a few moments but eventually your mouth starts to move against his with unsure movements. He seems encouraged by this and presses his lips firmly into yours.

You can hear a whooshing sound in your head where coherent thought used to be. All you can think now is this is not like the other kisses, and more more more.

You pull back a centimeter from his lips so that you can catch your breath, and then you attache your mouth to his again, a little more forcefully than you had intended. He chuckles a little and you find yourself laughing with him, before he's kissing you again.

You move their mouths together for an eternity, or mere minutes, you have no idea. And then he surprises you again by running his tongue along your top lip. You gasp, again. And then his tongue is in your mouth, and you always thought that kind of thing sounded gross. But it's not. It's just...not. you feel like your body is going to explode and your legs feel like jelly and you're suddenly very glad he put you on this perch.

He pulls back, places several slow, pulling kisses to your lips, and then rest his forehead to yours.

He's breathing hard too, you're gratified to note.

Neither of you say anything for a while. You don't seem to need to.

The cool evening breeze brings you both back to reality when you shiver. The Doctor runs his hands up and down your arms to warm you and you lean into him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You both sigh contentedly together.

Your mind starts to sober as the adrenaline from the kiss wears off. You feel comfortable in his arms, and you want to stay there. Will you ever be able to be held like this by him again? What if he thinks this was a one-off? What if this was just another casual kiss for him? You've seen him kiss strangers before, usually in gratitude and he doesn't seem to think anything of it. Is this like that for him? You feel even colder now, and your shivers become more violent.

"May I hold your hand?" The Doctor's voice rumbles in her ear, causing you to shiver for a different reason.

The Doctor's companion pulls your head back to look at him. You're trying to read him but once again, his expression is unreadable. Yoy give up and focuses on what he said.

The way he says it gives you  pause. Like he's asking for more than that. Like the answer to his question would be the start of something. Or like a continuation of things already started. Things you just put in motion. Or maybe they've been in motion for quite a long time, you've both just been ignoring it. Whatever the case, it renews your confidence. This is serious to him, just as it is to you. You know your answer.

"Yes, you most certainly may." You echo his words back to him.

His relief is clear on his face. He doesn't even bother hiding it. Have you not been the only insecure one in this relationship?

"Pastries back in the TARDIS?" The Doctor whispers.

You bury your face into him again and smile into his shoulder. "And cocoa."

"And cocoa. Mustn't forget the cocoa."

"Would be a crime" you nod.

"The worst kind." The Doctor agrees. "Let's go"

The Doctor lifts yoy off your perch and places you back on solid ground. You huddle into his side immediately.

Hand in smaller hand, you walk back to your TARDIS.

♡ thank you for reading! please consider reblogging/commenting if you enjoyed, it means a lot

[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?"

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Would He? (Doctor Who Drabble)

Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You're not convinced the Doctor is a big fan of aftercare.

Fic type: fluff (sorta), mentions of smut.

EVERYTHING: @winchxters 

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers @mochabonesblog @iguirisu @thegen3sisark @wereallbrokenangels @florduarte @pansexual-imp (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You're a needy little fucking thing, aren't you?" The Doctor asks rhetorically, arm curling around you like you so clearly wanted. One of your own brushed up against his bare chest and the being in question sucked air into his lungs, pleased with the contact.

"I'd have thought three orgasms were enough of a gift. Now you want cuddles too?" His fingers pinched your arm sharply.

You snuggle closer, enjoying the petering of the sting as he rubbed the area with his fingers. He smelt like cum. You both probably smelt like cum. And sweat.

"It is, and yet a cuddle is just what the Doctor ordered," you snorted, pressing kisses to whatever skin you could reach.

"What Doctor is this, then? Certainly wasn't me, was it." Not a question. There were very rarely questions the Doctor actually wanted you to answer, you had found over the years.

"Besides," you ignored him, "you should know the protocol by now. You give me orgasms, I give you orgasms- and then we give each other cuddles. Then, a little later, we'll go get snacks and terrorise some poor planet or go on an adventure or something."

The Doctor hummed, sucking air through his teeth as he thought over your proposal. Your eyes were starting to droop when suddenly he had pushed you over onto your back.

Before you could make a sound of protest or upset, his gangly form was lying on top of you, head resting on your chest.

Trying to sound menacing, the Doctor mumbled, "run your fingers through my hair or I'll cut them off."

Blinking, you did as you were bid. As you always did. Your fingers rested on his scalp, parting the brown strands and tugging just lightly- the way you knew he liked.

An answering hum confirmed you were correct on that.

"If you cut my fingers off it might make it a little difficult for me to do pretty much anything."

"That's what I'm for, love," the Doctor answered immediately, eye cracking open. You nodded, somewhat unconvinced. "Not that it matters anyway. You're doing what I asked. Therefore, no punishment and no cutting off of fingers required."

Well, you supposed that was true. Besides... he wouldn't actually do that to you, would he?

[simp-ly-writes]

For All Time

Paring: 10th Doctor x Fem! Time Lord!Reader

Summary: Many, Many worlds ago you were married to the Doctor. That was until a war tore your home planet and species apart and you were part of the lucky handful that managed to make your way out into the universe- alive. As you go through many regenerations of yourself, you run into the Master, an old friend of yours that you faintly remember. He tells you of the Doctor, warns you of your spouse and from then on, you are on a mission to never interact with him. Should be easy... right?

Warnings: 3300 words. Angst with no HEA. Themes of death. Depictions of Blood.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Doctor Who and I have only watched 12 hours worth of video essay's on the series. Please be kind and I hope you all enjoy~ :)

Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.

You were terrified of time lords, the Doctor in particular and as to not be a hypocrite, you were scared of yourself- of everything you could fuck up for all time- that you already did fuck up for all time as the Master had already reported to you all those regenerations ago.

He told you of the horrors you made, the inconsequential decisions you thought to be just so now added up to a few hundred deaths on your hands as universe's threatened to collapse and the possible elimination of dozens of species painted your hands in guilt. Your finger nails pressing into your palms as you shook your head, trying to wring the statistics out of your head. But in the sliver of a smile, his dark eyes filled your thoughts as he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned closer to your face, tears began to well up in your eyes.

You felt his breath on your neck as he brushed your hair away from your face, drinking up your tears while whispering in your ear, "But you haven't done the worst, love." He emits a small chuckle, his head knocking slighting against your own as you lean further back into the wall for support. "It is the Doctor that damned us all and yet we are the one's to be blamed, for everything, for all time, now and forever. He has killed millions, and nearly every little lover he calls companions he takes on his tyrannical adventures."

Your voice meek, throat clogged with tears as you sniffle for air, "I thought I was the only one, old friend... I thought that- that-"

"From what I know..." he cuts you off, taking a step back, allowing you room to breath as your legs give out from underneath yourself, your back falling against the wall before you are sat on the floor. Your fingers picking away at the grout between the tiles as you count the tiles of the room, doing your best to blink away the tears. "... its just the three of us and if I can offer you a tidbit of advice form one friend to another..."

He stand at full height, leaning down to lift your chin, that sliver now a toothy grin as his fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing your lips together, his eyes flash over to them before continuing his eye contact as you wince at the force he handles you with. "...continue to run away from us all." He drops your head, as if your skin burned his own and by the time you gain the momentum to look up once more, there are no traces he ever was here- he ever exist, a mere fragment of your imagination. You pick yourself up the floor and take his advice to heart.

--

So thats how you found yourself, sat underneath an umbrella in early spring within France. You and your Tardis concluded the time to be the mid two-thousands as you tried not to let the everlasting smell of piss on the streets keep you from enjoying an early brunch.

You watched as various tourists rolled themselves out onto the streets, snapping hundreds of pictures with their digital cameras, kids pointing at various things in storefronts, leading their parents chasing after them. A small smile casted upon your features as you listened to their little feet run across the cobbled streets, cheering loudly at the sweets in the window.

The Sun begins to peek out from between the clouds as you cast your gaze down to escape its shinning rays sneaking underneath your cover. Taking a sip of your now ice-cold coffee, you jolt in your seat, unaware that it was yourself who clattered the cup to the plate, trying to set your drink down. Dropping your shoulders down, your cheeks warm as the kids from earlier snap their heads towards the noise as you begin to pat your pants dry from the spilled coffee.

You swear lightly underneath your breath, your book-ruined and the liquid threatening to ruin your pants as well. Taking a napkin from the holder, you pat yourself down before opening the book in your lap, trying to air out the pages.

But soon the book and outfit become the last of your worries as your ear twitch to the familiar mechanical wizzing sound of what could only be a Tardis. Sweat instantly forms in your palms, your eyes dart around the streets, looking, watching, waiting for his arrival. You hate to admit that the panic holds yourself still, strapped to this very chair to witness the horror about to be unleashed yet all these humans appear none-the-wiser to their upcoming demise.

And when you think all those tears you shed were now buried away yet new ones burn your vision blurry as you grip the table in wait. What of the children, the families, the lives of them all? Your brain presses, kicking into hyperdrive, asking yourself if you are ready to die. But what will he do if he finds me? And your mind goes blank, incapable of thinking of what tortures you would endure.

So you present yourself human, plastering a fake smile, bright eyes as silent tears run rivers down your cheeks. Your breathing staggered just like your hearts, threatening to exit your body and make a life for themselves. It would be better to die, you convince yourself, the words echoing through your soul, it is better to die, die, die.

--

It feels like lifetimes move as you await his presence, eyes casting down the various alleyways, ears pointed for the sounds of agony and screams in his pleasure for universal domination. "He's killed millions," the Master's voice whispers into your ear with the breeze following by the sound of two beating hearts.

It was hard to miss the way your heart slowed, matching the breaths in between his own. His steps organized in the crowd surrounding him as a woman follows just behind his every step. His hair caught you first, its frazzled appearance as if he dragged his hands through the roots a few hundred times yet no stress coated his features, not a single wrinkle or crinkle besides a smile that has you loosening your grip on the table.

His direction leads him closer towards the coffee shop you sit in front of as a child runs across his front, stepping on one of his sneakers, an involuntary gasp escapes between your painted lips yet the Doctor takes no attention nor comment to them, simply continuing his way through the crowd. You hear his voice above all the afternoon commotion, his accent catching you off guard, "Say Donna, have you ever seen Paris or the South of France? I must say that this tower of theres is nothing in comparison to some of the future civilizations I've seen, I should, I will take you to one in the future or well, when we are done here."

The woman nods along to what he says, biting her lip, a knowing smile growing across her features as if she is cooking up a line to fire back, "Well the last time I was here was with you but we didn't really get to have a getaway besides running from those martians trying to KILL US! This is much better, oh!- did you see that woman's sandwich! How about lunch?"

Your eyes are wide as she tilts her head in your direction. You embody the appearance of a deer in headlights before swiftly unfolding the newspaper on the table, doing your best to read the various headlines with plausible interest.

The Doctor hums thoughtfully, looking to where Donna's eyes had landed, his eyes narrow in of the outrageously large paper that covers your face as he leans closer to Donna, "is that newspaper big, or is the woman just small?"

Donna laughs, knocking her shoulder with the Doctor as he shuffles back, head tipped down into a playful glare. "Well, spaceman. In comparison to you, anything appears larger than life."

"Do you want that sandwich or not?" The Doctor responds, eyes already bored and looking at the various other shops and people on the street, subconsciously looking for a threat to ruin the day.

"Well, yes-"

"Then lets get you that sandwich," and with that the Doctor is taking large strides up to your table. Curiosity brimming with excitement to uncover whoever was behind that paper. His heart rate began to climb, the walk now a light job as Donna wondered whatever has gotten into the Doctor.

--

You tense in preparation, saying your grievances underneath your breath as the man reaches forward, ripping the newspaper that had gradually been pressed closer to your face as he leaned closer to you. You pick up the book in your lap, spreading the pages wide open. Wincing once your fingers trace up the spine, finding a new crack upon its surface- that too is torn out of your hands.

In a childish effort- you close your eyes, hands racing across the tables surface before feeling the soft material of a serviette. Your plate clatters against the wooden table as you rip the cloth from underneath, waving it in the air to unfold it and subsequently into his face as he audibly complains. Swiftly opening your eyes, you look through the thin material, tracing over his blurry outline and hard-to-reach features while leaning back as far as your chair allows you too. Your feet hooking under the tables legs as only two chair legs hold you from toppling over.

The man huffs, his chair scraping against the pavement in a horrifying screech as your tableware clatters to the floor, bits and pieces of porcelain scraping across your leather shoes and socks. He peers over your napkin, eyebrow raised, brown-eyes peering to see your wide ones. You watch as his other eyebrow races to match the other, a small gasp escapes between his parting lips with fingers brushing against your own. He steals away the last of your cover, casting it aside to a nearby empty table.

The Doctor leans closer to listen to your hearts beating rapidly in your chest as he casts a hand down to feel his own. By the time he looks back up at you, a charming smile has one threatening to spread across your face but the Master's words make it fall the next moment as the Doctor gently clasps your hand between his own, taking the seat behind himself, pulling you forwards to sit level.

"Hello, darling," he whispers out, unsure if you are truly you as he awaits your answer. He squeezes your hand, ushering you to respond. You hate the way the pet-name makes you feel, the memories that flood your mind and all the time in between. A moment passes between you both before an approaching fiery-headed woman shifts your attention away from one another.

"DOCTOR? DOCTOR! What in the hells do you think you're doing?! Harassing this poor woman- oh I apologize dear, I have no idea what gotten into him today. I don't want that Sandwich in particular, just any sandwich!" Donna shouts out in the Doctors face. You wait for her to take him by the ear like a tired mom yet she smacks him on the back of his head as he drops your hand to ease the oncoming bruise.

With this distraction you quickly stand, throwing an unknown amount of currency on the table before darting down the crowded Paris streets. The Doctor curses underneath his breath lightly, "You don't understand, Donna!"

"What don't I understand? You going after some random human, is she a past companion or something?" Donna asks, eyes casting towards your empty seat that the Doctor glares at.

"Thats my wife!" The Doctor outbursts, grabbing your book and paper in hand before darting off after you, Donna running swiftly after the spaceman. "YOUR WHAT?!" Donna screams out between breaths.

"MY WIFE!"

"Don't you have five of those already?" She teases but the tone is peaked with genuine curiosity.

"Well yes- no. I don't know, they were the first!" The Doctor stumbles the words out, mind a fumbled mess at the sudden shock of you.

"The first, wait. Are they..." Donna's steps come to a halt as the Doctor casts his head back, steps slowing as they regain their breath, he hands your book and newspaper to Donna who holds onto the materials tightly. "...a time lord?"

"Yes..." the Doctor says in a remorseful tone. "....Yes, they are."

--

You lost where you last parked your Tardis as you turn down road after road, cars honking as you interrupt the traffic in your maddened dash. You keep your ears peaked for the two intruders to your centuries of peace. Your mind running a mile a minute for a plan that you assure yourself to be thinking of on the fly as you take another sharp turn, flying into someones arms.

They grip you still, smelling of aftershave and coffee with a dash of honey. You take in a deeper breath, curious to find the undertones before a chuckle has you pulling away, blinking rapidly as they hold onto your elbows and pull you into an empty shop under construction. You curse when seeing those familiar brown eyes, your hands drifting over the soft fabric of his jacket, feeling the small rips and seams before pulling away. Dusting your hands off on your pants, he moves his touch up to your shoulders, giving them a light shake.

"Why are you running, is there an emergency? A planet being overtaken, a universe about to explode?" He rattles off various answers for your selection yet you chose to remain silent. Ripping yourself away from his touch, you watch as his hands flex, itching to hold onto something, to someone, before he reaches into his jacket pocket as you do the same.

Two sonic screwdrivers are presented, shoving the glowing end into one another's presences. The door slams open and shut once more as Donna casts her arms wide and behind herself, blocking any potential escape. "Alright, lets gets things settled here, we don't need to me shoving our sonic screwdrivers at each other now!" Donna announces.

You wait for the Doctor to drop his first, eyes following as his hand open, his movements slow as he guides the technology back into his coat. He nods towards you, beckoning for you to do the same, your hands shake as you press it into your pant pocket for easier access. The Doctor raises a brow to this, looking back at Donna who's sights are set on you with pity.

The Doctor takes a step forwards, you shake your head, hands raised, your voice cracking, "You. Are. A. Monster! A Monster that has destroyed lives! You are in the midst of ruining another just now. If you would PLEASE just let me walk away I can promise you that I will do nothing- a personal moral of mine-"

The Doctors eyes gloss over, memories flash over himself. His arms feel heavy, shoulders slumping forwards as he remembers holding what he thought to be the second-to-last time lord in his arms, the Master as he died- unwilling to regenerate. "But here's the thing, I don't want to just 'let you walk away,' not with how I lost the last one- not when I am so close again to what could be," the Doctor pleads sincerity, his heart shattering at your words he knows a part to be true. But to hear them coming from who he surly believes to be you, it cuts him wounds him as you continuously step away from him as he nears.

The pain, the fear in your eyes, dictating your speech, he wishes to comfort you, hand raising to capture your outstretched one yet you quickly press your hands back into your chest. Right above your heart as it covering it for an attack. Donna sternly voices the Doctors name causing the man to pause in motion. Feet posed for another step, hand outstretched in a welcoming fashion, palm stretching outwards.

"Exactly. What COULD be. Couldn't have said it better myself, Doctor," you spit his name out, copying the Master's tone. "I'd say it even makes things easier on the both of us. Now please, let. me. go. Or better yet- kill me! Kill me right here, right now! I know you want to so just DO IT!" you scream out, words chocking on tears as you cough, hunching your form over. You feel so small, so hopeless as you look over to his companion, silently asking for her to convince him.

"No," the Doctor states firmly, hands now gripped into fists as he struggles to articulate his next words, looking over at Donna for support.

"Then I am sorry," you hush out softly before jumping up with all your strength as you cast a right hook across his nose. Blood pours over your knuckles as you fling your hand to remove the bodily fluid form your skin, making a mad dash towards the door.

You shout an apology to the human companion, having to shove 'Donna' you remember her name to be, out of the way and make your way back onto the streets. The Tardis had to be close, you think to yourself- the feeling in your gut starting to swell alongside your knuckles as you hissed through the pain, flinging yourself back towards your on-the-go home and pressing towards a random position. Pleading towards the console, anywhere but here, but now, with him- please.

--

"Wa-" The Doctor began to say before gripping his noise, casting his head upwards to try and stop the onslaught of blood. Tears cascaded down his features, creating a mess across his face as the liquids dropped down to his collard shirt and suit, staining the material for good.

Donna watched your escape through the window, you paid no mind to turn around, to take one last look no matter how hard your shoulders tensed or your neck tilted until you were out of sight. Shaking her head she walks over to the Doctor, reaching around in her pockets for a napkin as she presents the thin cloth to him.

The Doctor mumbles a thanks, beginning to wipe away at his face from his reflection in the glass. The air in the room is depleting as the Time Lord struggles to choke down air from the weight heaving in his chest. Donna rubs his back, watching as his back tenses before settling yet he refuses to look at her, only looking at the direction you fled in.

A few moments passes and the Doctor and Donna had yet to move form their positions, in a light tone, nervous to cut through the heavy silence too swiftly, Donna softly speaks, "You alright?"

The Doctor stands to full height, tissue dropping to the dirty floors beneath as he kicks away a loose bunch of screws. "I'm always alright." The Doctor nods- as if hyping himself up. He begins to make his way towards the door, looking back with a hand outstretched once more.

Donnas heartbreaks then and there as the spaceman smiles at her. She can see the pain in his eyes, the remnants of tears still in the corner of his eyes and the small sniffles he does his best to hide. She softly grasps his hand, giving it a squeeze. She listens to the breath he lets out shakily before leading them back out the door and in the opposite direction of you.

↳ A/N: what did you think? :)

[owen-writes]

Goody-Two Shoes

11th Doctor x Gender Neutral Reader

The TARDIS hums softly as it materializes on an alien planet. You step out, the 11th Doctor at your side, his signature bowtie slightly askew.

"Alright, now listen carefully," the Doctor begins, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and concern. "We're here to retrieve the Chrono Crystal. It's in the catacombs beneath that ancient temple over there. Follow my lead, stay close, and, most importantly, don't touch anything."

You nod, eager to prove yourself as a valuable companion. Amy and Rory exchange glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism. The Doctor takes the lead, and you follow his instructions to the letter.

As you traverse the dimly lit catacombs, Amy shoots you a sideways glance. "You're quite the goody two-shoes, aren't you? Always following the Doctor's orders."

You shrug off the comment, focusing on keeping pace with the Time Lord. The Doctor, however, seems pleased with your cooperation. "It's essential to follow instructions in these situations. Trust me, I've had my fair share of companions who thought they knew better."

As the mission progresses, Amy's jabs become more frequent. "Honestly, you're like the Doctor's little lapdog. Can't you think for yourself?"

The remarks sting, and you find yourself growing increasingly self-conscious. Determined to prove you're not as "lame" as Amy suggests, you decide to take matters into your own hands during a crucial moment. Ignoring the Doctor's warnings, you touch a peculiar-looking device, setting off a series of alarms.

The Doctor whirls around, his eyes widening. "What did I just say about touching things?!"

Your rebellious act results in chaos, drawing the attention of hostile creatures. The Doctor, Amy, and Rory engage in a frantic escape, and you realize your attempt to break free from the perceived mold has backfired spectacularly.

Later, in the safety of the TARDIS, the Doctor pulls you aside. "Alright, spill it. What's going on? That's not like you at all."

You sigh, feeling the weight of Amy's disapproval on your shoulders. "I just wanted to prove I could be more than the obedient one. Amy thinks I'm boring, and I don't want to drag the group down."

The Doctor looks at you with a mix of understanding and amusement. "Ah, Amy. She has a way with words, doesn't she? But you don't need to change who you are to impress anyone. I value you for being yourself."

Surprised by his sincerity, you open up about your insecurities. The Doctor listens intently, his expression softening. "You're not a lapdog or boring. You're reliable, and that's a rare quality. Trust me; I've traveled with all sorts. I chose you because I see something special in you."

Over the following adventures, the Doctor makes an effort to involve you more in decision-making, showcasing your unique strengths. Amy, while still a bit skeptical, begins to appreciate your contributions. As the TARDIS hurtles through time and space, you find solace in the fact that the Doctor values you not for your rebellious acts but for the person you are.

[sleep-i-ness]

Disillusioned 2 (Tenth Doctor x reader)

Synopsis: You’ve awakened

Content Warning: Injury

PART 1 | DOCTOR WHO MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST

You let your eyelids flutter open as you uncurled in the soft expanse of your bed, head propped up by a mountain of pillows, just the way you liked it. You had read something once about a large number of pillows correlating to loneliness or missing something in life. But frankly that just seemed like a stupid assumption to make.

The soothing, ever-present hum of the TARDIS lulled you back to sleep, a small smile twitching at the corner of your lips.

Wait.

You jolted upright, rubbing the bleariness out of your eyes. The TARDIS? What the hell were you doing here? The last you remembered you were – oh. Oh.

Well, there was no fucking way you were staying here any longer.

A dull tug at your forearms stopped any attempts to move out of bed, and you scowled down at the innumerable wires that presumably the Doctor had attached to your skin. Overbearing arse. No doubt he was trying yet again to make amends for turning you into this freak. It hadn’t really been his fault in the first place; you had never been great at listening to instructions. And no one expected that a badly made replica Eye of Harmony would explode with you still in the room.

But he still didn’t get that that wasn’t your issue with the whole situation.

Immortality wasn’t the blessing the media from your childhood had made it out to be. But when you had found out you couldn’t die, you hadn’t been able to help the flutter of hope in your chest, the warmth blossoming as you had looked at the Doctor. He didn’t have to worry about you dying anymore. You could have travelled the stars forever.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite felt the same way.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek as you yanked out the various drips and needles, setting off a cacophony of alarms. The medical bay was lit up by the colourful flashes of sirens, and you glowered. Protective prick.

But luckily enough for you, he had left your stuff piled neatly beside the bed, including your gorgeous vortex manipulator. You really owed Jack one for that.

As the door burst open, your Doctor flushed with his hair all awry, you smiled sardonically and gave him a little wave goodbye. He didn’t get to hurt you again.

“Y/N, please, listen, just wait-”

And you stumbled into Jack’s arms.

“Hey sweetheart.”

“Jack.”

He held you out at arm’s length, eyes scanning the length of your body, and he frowned. You smiled up at him, feeling your eyes well up and you blinked the traitorous tears back. You weren’t going to cry to Jack, not again.

He led you to a chair, hand on your arm to steady you as you stumbled. Trembling. You slumped into the chair, staring off into the distance. And then you jolted, like a current of electricity had run right through you.

Jack frowned, tilting your head back and forth. You wrinkled your nose under his intense gaze, tired of being treated like a test subject in some experiment. You just wanted a nap. To be unconscious. Just something to take your mind off everything.

You screamed as your vortex manipulator began to sear on your arm, burning deep into your wrist. Jack started. His eyes narrowed as he stared at you, before abandoning his grip on your face and lifting your arm. You tugged at it, pulling at the strap, anything to get it off as it set your veins aflame, scorching you from the inside out.

“Get it off me, Jack!”

He yanked at the watch, cursing as it glowed in his hands.

“What have you done to it?” You shrieked, black spots appearing at the corner of your vision from the red-hot pain blistering under your skin.

Jack began to fade from your sight, edges slowly going blurry and the colour saturation seeping away. “Nothing, I swear, I don’t know what’s happening.”

And he was gone. The world fell away. Dropped right out from underneath you. Darkness swum up to meet you, joining the black spots and filling your sight.

Everything was black. Pitch black, not a single speck of light from no matter how far away. And the silence. The silence was endless, deafening in its emptiness. You tried to scream, but no sound came out, even as your body heaved to make a noise, anything.

You inhaled shakily. There was air. At least there was air. Eternal suffocation was not how you’d pictured the rest of your life.

But the rushing sensation never ceased, as if you were tumbling, head over heels. You swallowed back the saliva crawling up your throat, a precursor to the sick heady feeling slowly building in you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground yourself in the sensation, the only real solid feeling you had left.

The burning sensation in your arm had stopped and you were almost sad for it; at least then you’d actually be feeling something. Well, something other than this nausea.

Well, there were worse ways to go.

Falling endlessly would at least allow you to sleep once you got used to the horrid rocking motion, and the darkness, and the silence. The silence, which muted the sound of your breath, the huff of noise, the rush of blood in your eardrums. You’d never heard the world so quiet before.

Although this was hardly a world. More like the absence of a world.

The absence of anything.

And then everything came rushing back. The lights, the colour, the noise and oh God, it was blinding. You fell to the ground in a ball, clutching your head as you wept from the surge of everything.

“Is she okay?”

“Come on,” you felt arms slip underneath you, picking you up as if you were nothing, “let’s get you to bed.”

“No, no,” you thrashed against the grip, sobbing as it only tightened around you. “Get off me. Please. Please just get off me.”

“Okay, okay,” you were placed down on the cold, hard, solid floor again and you whimpered, stretching out a hand to ground yourself. You felt a pinprick in your arm, a slight crest in the rolling waves of nausea.

And then nothing. Again.

You screamed.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Eleventh Doctor x insecure/ anxious reader?

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Cold feet" - 11th Doctor x Reader

SUMMARY: Funnily enough, after facing death and vicious aliens, it's small talk with strangers that gives you cold feet. Fortunately enough, you found yourself in the company of an expert on running away.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

A/N: As an anxious person I cannot be thankful enough for people in my life who casually roll with my anxiety and don't try to "fix" it with cheap advice

"Time Lord to human! Are you listening to me?"

The sudden yelling shook you awake. Only then did you realize you zoned out in the first place, letting Doctor's rushed words brush right by you. You looked at him only to see pure annoyance seeping from his expression. Although you never meant to hurt him, the guilt still gnawed at you.

"Sorry, missed the last bit," you explained yourself as you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. "What were you saying?"

Instead of repeating his scientific ramblings which definitely would have been a little too fast and complex for you to understand, he shifted his posture to rest his hands on his hips. You felt as if he had caught you red-handed doing something he had absolutely prohibited you from doing.

"Oi, what's going on with you? It's like you've lost your head."

You absentmindedly shook your head to dismiss his worry. "Yeah, sorry, it's no-"

"Are you in love?"

For a moment you couldn't get any sound to leave your mouth. "What?" It was a bizarre conclusion to jump to. You couldn't tell what on Earth could even get him that idea. "No, it's on-"

"Good for you!" he said as he clapped his hands. "Now, moving on. Focus, eyes on me."

"Look, it's just that I've got a..." you suspended your voice thinking of the right word to use. The Doctor stared at you with wide eyes, clearly awaiting the second part of the sentence. "Thing."

"A thing?" he repeated in confusion. It seemed as if with each of your words he only grew more offended at your misplaced attention.

"Yes, a thing." Out of all the words you could have used, your choice seemed to have fallen on the worst and least exhaustive one. "My friend, Ada, is throwing a party for some of her college friends but apart from me everyone invited is from her course, so she's going to be the only person I know there."

"And that's what you've been thinking about while I was explaining my clever, clever plan?"

The Doctor stared at you with closely knit eyebrows. In some way, he couldn't fathom how a party invitation could be in any way more interesting than him showing off his extraordinary intellect and creativity. Choosing between a college party and aliens should have been a lot easier than it truly was.

"It's not as simple as it sounds, you know?"

"Alright, then tell me." By his hand-flapping and surprisingly undivided attention, you couldn't tell whether he was growing more upset or actually wanted to hear about what was troubling you.

"Honestly, I don't want to go but it's important for Ada. Also, I haven't seen her in ages. On the other hand..." your voice drifted away. Now that you've started this little heart-to-heart, it was pointless to lie to the Doctor - if successful, fooling him wouldn't gain anything anyway. "It's a party full of strangers."

For a moment he stared at you in silence, visibly expecting you to elaborate but truthfully, there wasn't anything more to say. The hypothetical group of strangers, as faceless as they were, was already stressful enough, even without giving them imaginary traits or habits.

"Strangers, right," he said as he clasped his hands. The sound echoed throughout the console room. He looked away for a moment, basking in enlightenment, before looking back at you. "How exactly is that a problem?" he dwelled on the subject. It seemed as if the discomfort of a company of strangers was hardly conceivable.

"You wouldn't get it." You vaguely waved your hand at him in a dismissive manner. Maybe it was unfair towards him but you really couldn't imagine a scenario in which he doesn't throw in a sarcastic comment about your anxiety. "I mean, how could you? Socializing has never been a problem for you."

"How could it be? People, party, cake, dancing. I love dancing! Great times, nothing to be scared of."

"Yes, there is: small talk and thirty people I've never met. And that's only the beginning."

Even the mere mention of that situation made a cold shiver run down your spine. A flutter of anxiety in your chest brought an unpleasant, suffocating sensation. Unconsciously, your face contorted in a grimace.

"You just go up to them and talk, what's hard about that?"

"Everything!" you exclaimed as you made a broad movement with your hands. "It's just... I can't do that. I physically can't make myself go up to a stranger and ask how they're doing, I'd rather hit my head against a wall. I know the theory, the 'walking through a house' metaphor, it's just... I can't force my body to do that. And when I do find myself talking to a stranger, I want it to end immediately. And the silence! Oh God, the silence... Like when you ask them a question, they answer and then the silence. The awkward silence of my anxiety, lack of social skills and being a generally uninteresting person. Just a bit of quiet and everyone knows I'm weird, awkward and-"

"Hey, hey, stop it!" he scolded you in a whiny voice as if you were a child. "Don't say that. You're not awkward or weird, you're brilliant!"

"Thanks, that's nice of you but unfortunately, I am self-aware."

He may have known you for weeks but you've known yourself for decades.

"No, really." He refused to let go. If the Doctor was going to spout cliche pick-me-ups, he appeared exceptionally committed to the meaningless act. "You crossed the universe as it is wide and long. Fought aliens and risked your life because a toddler couldn't sleep at night. Blimey, you told a Sontaran with a bomb bigger than your head to piss off. And it's house party small talk that gives you cold feet?"

Contrary to his presumption, the context didn't give you any comfort or motivation - it only made you feel worse. If you really were as brave as he made it seem, why couldn't you just start a conversation with your friend's guests? By the measure of saving the universe multiple times, you should be more than capable to do so.

"I know it sounds ridiculous and I agree it's stupid but it's not the same. When we're saving worlds it's a mission, a puzzle to solve." You paused for a moment but by your expression, the Doctor could tell there was something else on your mind. "And I've got you," you added.

"Me?" he asked sheepishly. The Doctor vaguely pointed his finger at himself. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You make me a little braver. I mean, you don't look scared even when you are, so it gives me a little push. I feel a little less anxious when I know that you've got my back."

"So what do you do when I'm not there?"

"Bail," you answered with a shrug. Were you really the same person who criticized the fashion choices of an alien with more guns than limbs? "I rarely go but when I do, I just run off around midnight like Cinderella." You made a small pause when you lowered your gaze, avoiding the Doctor's face. "Honestly, it always makes me feel ashamed like I'm making myself miss out on something but it's either that or panicking in the bathroom."

A silence fell between you. The Doctor's typical hand flapping came to a strange halt as he continued to stare at you with an inexplicable expression. He would have agreed on your resemblance to Cinderella, your regent-esque charm and princess-like beauty but there seemed to be a matter more important at hand:

"Has that ever happened?"

His voice was surprisingly quiet, hesitant even as if he didn't want to actually know the answer. Maybe he wasn't sure he was ready for the responsibility the knowledge would bring. The Doctor's words were barely audible over the whirring and wheezing of the TARDIS's engineering.

"Which part?"

"Panicking in the bathroom."

"Yeah," you said quietly. Your gaze fell to the floor. Looking for some kind of comfort, you slowly rubbed your arm. "It was New Year at my friend's, didn't know anyone there except for him. At some point, I just needed to take a break from being around so many people. I sat in the bathroom wearing a silver sequin ballgown and fought back tears. Funny, I probably looked equally pathetic and great. The only thing I could think about was how rubbish I was at just hanging out with people and, you know, being a normal teen at a normal teen party filled with normal teens. I just..." you stopped yourself at the last moment possible. A heavy, defeated sigh left your lips before you continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish I was a little less anxious."

"You never said anything."

"Why would I? It's not something I'm exactly proud of." You let out a bitter chuckle as you answered him.

Suddenly you found yourself engulfed in a tight hug. The Doctor's arms were tightly wrapped around you, his slow but ragged breath brushing against your neck. Surprised at the unforeseen affection, you hesitantly reciprocated the embrace. The tweed of his jacket was slightly coarse, some strings were coming out of the seams. He always smelled like burnt wires and a second-hand bookshop. At first, that distinct fragrance wasn't exactly pleasant to you but with time it became a beacon of hope, comfort, adventure and a good laugh.

"Oh, you brilliant, clever you," he quietly said in a sad voice.

Then he stepped away from you just as swiftly and surprisingly as he hugged you in the first place. The first thing you noticed was the change in his facial expression: the Doctor was no longer annoyed or concerned but excited as if he had just come up with a perfect solution to some mind-boggling problem.

"Well then, good thing you're not going alone this time."

"I'm... not?"

"Yes! A plus-one. It's still a thing, right? I'm your plus-one."

"That's sweet of you but you really don't have to. I'm fine on my own," you assured him, although he had no reason to believe you after what you'd already told him.

"Change of plans, sweetheart!" he exclaimed as he pulled one of the many levers. The TARDIS was about to take flight and it was a little too late for arguments and second thoughts. "We're going together and when people become a little too much we attend to an emergency," he said while running between different parts of the flight console. As if he was dancing, he made a whole circle around the control switchboard and stood in front of you once again. The Doctor stuck his index finger in your face as if reprimanding you once more. "No panicking in the bathrooms."

"Wait, what emergency?" you asked as he was already taking directions to your hometown.

"You know, this very real emergency that can't wait and we have to take care of it at the very moment. The crisis that I definitely did not invent just now."

"Right..." you drew out your answer as you caught on to his ruse. A smile crept unto your face. "Time travellers, defenders of the universe. You can never know when you're needed. Any suspicions as to what the emergency is?"

"Laskos' fourth moon. There's that small waffle bar that might need an inspection."

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none. reader kept gn as always

↳ song: this is the day—the the

masterlist!

• He might not look it, but the space man is very keen on cuddling

• Initiating it is a nightmare for the both of you—think awkward conversations and over exaggerated hand movements—but once he gets your permission to proceed, he's as happy as can be

• The Doctor has spent centuries watching people come and go from his life. Lacking true connection and hating to watch it all end. So to be able to participate in such a domestic thing, even if it's just the simple act of holding each other, makes both his hearts swell

• He will be the big spoon the most of the time. The Doctor feels the urge to wrap himself around you like a protective barrier, momentarily shielding you away from all the troubles of the outside world. It's just in his nature to protect—especially if it's you that's being protected

• He does occasionally enjoy being the little spoon, however. It's always nice to know someone else you trust has your back. And he might crave touch just a little bit more than he's willing to admit

• Won't ever say it to your face, but he thinks you're ethereal when sleeping. Appreciates how the TARDIS stays just bright enough to where he can admire you while you doze off; hair matted and lips parted slightly without a care in the world

• Gallifreyans don't need to sleep as often as humans do. You know this. The Doctor knows this. But nonetheless it's become a routine for the both of you to head to a bed after a particular hard adventure and fall into each other wordlessly. Sometimes you'll talk to each other about things that are bothering you. Run ins with Daleks, lost lovers, the enslavement of the Ood, etc. And other times you'll just sit in silence, heads buried in each other's necks protectively

• More than once you've woken up to an empty bed. The Doctor, as you discovered, is still working out how to deal with his feelings after so many tragic endings. Which you respect, allowing him to take as long as he needs. But occasionally, if you're lucky, you'll wake up to find your legs intertwined with his and an arm thrown over your side haphazardly

• He starts keeping a little go bag of your pajamas in a corner of the TARDIS. It's easier than landing inside your apartment each night to grab something. Plus, he likes the way your face lights up at the thoughtful action

• If you're having a particularly hard time falling asleep one night, The Doctor will take to opening up about some of his past. He'll tell you tales of the brilliant orange sky on his home planet and the way it sparkled with the morning light until you're asleep in his side, a distant smile etched on your face

[gracesimp]

soulmates

tenth doctor x fem!reader

Summary: it's rare, but sometimes in the universe, people meet their soulmate. Upon first touch with one's soulmate,a connection is formed. A physical and mental bond. What happens when the Doctor meets his soulmate?

Nearly eight billion people live on Earth. With the possibilities of life on other planets and different worlds, the belief of soulmates wasn't unwarranted in any way. The belief, however, of meeting your destined partner was a little harder to accept. Maybe it was one of the cruelest tricks of all. Knowing that they were out there - somewhere - but unlikely to ever meet them.

The Doctor often talked about miracles. The gift of the universe. Rare, though that makes then more magical when they occur. Never when you're expecting nor prepared. The Doctor was neither when the present of a miracle was handed to him, but he couldn't be more grateful if he tried.

________

Rose Tyler ran into the console room, a spring in her step, yelling out for the Doctor and squeaking in surprise when his head popped up from under the railings.

"Whistle, would you?!" She moaned, resting a hand on her racing heart as the Doctor laughed. She rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him when his smile widened.

"What do you want to do today? We could go to the future! There's this planet, yeah, that's literally made of diamonds! The sky shines so bright, you have to wear these really blocky sunglasses that they invented especially for sightseers." He chuckled, words spewing out faster than his poor companion could comprehend.

"OR, we could go back in time! I could take you to meet Cleopatra..ooh, actually, maybe not. I think she's still mad at me for winning that game of cards. Sore loser-"

"Doctor!" Rose cut his ramblings short, failing to keep her amusement hidden. "I need to go home. Just for a quick visit." She said, reaching into her pocket and taking out her 'super-phone' before she waved it in front of his face. "I've not seen my best mate for a bit. I'm beginning to miss her." She frowned.

The Doctor hesitated slightly due to a strange feeling running through him, but it was gone as quick as it came. He shook his head then began to press random buttons.

"Sure, where does she live?"

"Nah, I already messaged her, she's meeting me at home." The blonde told him, receiving a low groan from the alien. She turned to him, eyebrow raised. "What?"

He cursed under his breath, kicking his feet on the ground in defeat. "Nothing, just means we've gotta see your mum."

"oi!"

_____

After a little struggle with parking the tardis, the two had finally landed in the correct time and place. Rose immediately hopped up from off the floor after she had been struck down by the dodgy driving and ran out the door.

The Doctor was taking his time, slowly shoving his arms into his brown coat, unable to shake this weird feeling. He moved towards the door, ready to leave, when the tardis began to trill. Her lights flashed teasingly and the Doctor narrowed his eyes. "What do you know?" He asked. "What are you not telling me?" He didn't earn a response other than some more flashing lights and a playful wheeze from his ship. "Whatever." He huffed when the tardis mentally nudged him with a tiny sense of urgency and made him feel compelled to walk out the door.

Doing as instructed, he shoved the door open and was met by his blonde friend, who simply rolled her eyes at him before linking their arms and pulling him towards the estate. "Could you take any longer?"

"You wouldn't understand but it takes time to look this good." He mocked, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Oh, shove it." She nudged him hard.

After countless amounts of stairs, the duo had finally made it to the Tyler residence. Not bothering to knock, Rose walked straight in, dragging the doctor with her. Jackie came running at the sound of her daughter, embracing her tightly in a hug. The Doctor subtly tried to slip away, but was unfortunate and the oldest Tyler spotted him, pulling him in, uncaring of his arms flying around awkwardly.

They pulled away and Jackie turned to her daughter, crossing her arms across her chest. "What have I told you about that bloody phone? Just one call, please!" She cried, and the Doctor sniggered at the embarrassment on his friend's face at the telling off she was receiving.

"Sorry." Rose mumbled, slyly elbowing the Doctor in his stomach, ignoring the groan of pain that replaced his snickering.

"Right, anyone for tea?" Asked Jackie, sauntering away into the kitchen, noting Rose's shadowing footsteps.

"Ooh, tea. Lovely! Milk and six sugars, please!" The only brunette spoke, following Rose into the living room and deciding to ignore the disgusted look on her face. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes making rounds across the room. Messy, but a natural kind of messy. Like it had recently been cleaned, but there were signs of life. Such as the magazine that was just thrown on the sofa and a stained mug abandoned on the table. He liked it.

"Yeah, I'll have a cup please, mum." Rose shouted into the kitchen. "Y/n not here?"

"No. You know what she's like. Always late, that girl." She chuckled while she poured the water into the cups.

"I'd better go help her." Rose said, excusing herself from the room.

"So, go on, where've you been now? You been taking care of her, Doctor?" The mother questioned, smiling softly when he answered with a 'She takes care of me!'

"Good, that's what I like to hear." She smiled, taking the milk out of the fridge when the doorbell rang. "Ooh, that'll be y/n!"

"Doctor, can you go let her in?" Rose asked, peeking her head around the door, hands full and a tin of biscuits under her chin. He chuckled at the sight, nodding as confirmation.

He opened the door, ready to greet Rose's friend, but stopped in his tracks at the sight of her.

Her reaction was similar. She smiled brightly, but it slowly dimmed at the stranger in front of her. Her eyes took all of him in. His messy hair, his freckled cheeks, his honey brown eyes that adorned specks of caramel.

The Doctor did the same, watching as she took a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Looking at her lips as they parted in surprise. The feeling he felt earlier only intensified when he trailed his eyes slowly down her body, taking his time and savouring every detail.

When they locked eyes again, a mutual blush was shared. No words had yet been spoken, but somehow an understanding was made. Neither could quite tell how long they had been stood in silence. Maybe a few seconds, perhaps a few minutes. Neither cared, both wishing to live in this moment for as long as possible.

Alas, they were interrupted. The blonde came marching to the door, whacking the doctor on his head as she placed her hands on her hips. "What are you doing?" She rolled her eyes, watching as the Doctor reluctantly tore his eyes away from the woman still standing outside. "Invite her in, idiot!"

The Doctor sputtered, blush deepening as he brought up a hand to rub the back of his neck. "O-Oh, yeah," he coughed. "Come on in."

Y/n smiled shyly, ducking her head as she walked by.

Rose tutted, leading her into the living room. "You'll have to excuse him. Still training him. When we first met he had no idea what was socially acceptable or not. He's why my job blew up. Still, good job he's got me, eh?" Rose giggled, tidying around a bit.

Y/n laughed a little, trying to ignore the tall man who had reentered the room.

The Doctor coughed, tapping Rose repeatedly on the leg as they sat down. Ignoring him, Rose turned to Y/n, attempting to start a conversation but losing her nerve at the neverending smacks she was getting from the Doctor. "Oh, my God, what?"

"Are you not going to introduce us?"

"Oh, right. Y/n, this is the Doctor. We travel together. Doctor, this is y/n. We've been best friends since primary." She smiled fondly.

"Lovely to meet you, y/n." He grinned, reaching out to shake her hand in greeting.

"Likewise." She smiled, taking ahold of his hand. Both of their grips tightened as gasps escaped their lips. The room and the sound of Rose's panicked yells faded away.All Rose could do was watch, confused, as golden energy began to course through the veins in their arms.

The pair had been engulfed in pure ecstasy, all three of their hearts racing. Y/n clung on tighter to his calloused hand as she began to see visions. Strange, random flashes that didn't make any sense, but she somehow knew that eventually they would. She saw as shadowed figures danced in the moonlight. She heard echoed laughter, she could see stars and supernovas. Flashes of a blue box began to appear. A little blue box, not so little at all.

It was strange. It was like she was experiencing memories that had yet to be made. Some of them felt as though they weren't hers. Perhaps a tad longer than she'd like to admit, she was able to conclude that she was walking upon the memories of the Doctor. She could see his past faces, his former companions. She could even see the first time Rose ran into the tardis, then out again, then back in. She listened to all the astonished cries of 'it's bigger on the inside!' and she could feel the joy the Doctor felt for hearing it.

And lastly, a soft echo of a whisper could be heard. A name kept hidden. A name so secret the power of it alone broke her from the transelike state.

They both came to with a deep gasp, losing their grip on each other as the room reappeared. Y/n's head bobbed a bit, feeling too heavy and her hearing was diluted. Rose and Jackie's yells felt so distant. A sharp burning sensation struck her head as she cried out, unable to see the Doctor rubbing at his own temples, or the hiss he released before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she allowed the darkness to consume her.

Hours had passed by before Y/n woke up. She let out a soft wimper as she took I'm her surroundings. She was tucked up in Rose's bed, still wearing her clothes. The Doctor had a soft smile toying on his lips when she let out a noise of surprise upon finding him sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Hello." His voice was low, almost talking in a hushed whisper.

Y/n smiled back and rearranged the pillows behind her so that she was sitting upright. "Hello."

The Doctor nodded to the side of her and she looked at the bedside table. "Tea?" he asked, pointing to the hot cup situated on the otherwise lone table. "Just how you like it."

Y/n picked it up, raising an eyebrow at the, what she had previously discovered, timelord.

"Don't worry, Jackie didn't make it." They both shared a chuckle and he watched as she took a little sip, moaning in delight.

Silence filled the room as y/n placed the cup back down. She just stared at the man, and he did the same.

Seconds had passed before she broke the quietness. "Doctor.. What happened before? I mean, it was weird. It was like.. I was seeing into your life. And even now, I can feel things that aren't mine. I just don't understand." She frowned.

The doctor leaned over, taking her hand in his when he felt the twinge of her panic, able to make it subside just by his touch.

"I don't believe it." He whispered, brushing his thumb across the small mark on the back of her hand. One that had not been there before. One that now matched his. "Y/n, have you ever heard of soulmates?"

The woman nodded, replying softly with an "of course."

"Well, sometimes, very rarely, but sometimes, people meet theirs. I've only ever heard about it in stories, I never thought it would happen to me." He said, now searching her face with his eyes. "Y/n, you're my miracle."

And she was. She saved him in every aspect.

OKAYYY, I WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS SLEEP DEPRIVED AND HAD NO IDEA HOW TO END IT LMAO SORRY FOR THE CHEESIENESS. BUT IT WAS SOMETHING DIFFERENT AND I ENJOYED WRITING THIS :)

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Dreaming Of You - Tenth Doctor X GN Reader

Title: Dreaming Of You

Tenth Doctor X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's parents (Mentioned), Actual doctors (Mentioned), Charlotte (Mentioned), Lucie (Mentioned), Rose Tyler (Mentioned), Martha (Mentioned), Donna (Mentioned), Jackie (Mentioned), and some popular Doctor Who aliens (Mentioned)

WC: 3,501

Warnings: Reader's parents to have been mentioned sending the Reader to a therapist/psychologist, brief mention of Rose and the Doctor's separation, it's a small bit sad, but only for a second, first meeting, not a lot of dialogue, past mini angst parental-wise, and fluff

Ever since you were a child, around seven or eight, you would have vivid dreams about one person. Though, that person seemed to change every couple of years. You had seen so many faces, but in your dreams, they were all the same man; or whom you had thought was a man at the time. 

Your dreams always consisted of him, in a strange room with blinking buttons and metal levers... And a strange blue police box. Sometimes you would see others, but they never lasted long in your dreams. They always... Faded out. You had no idea why.

Soon after your first couple of dreams, you would begin drawing him and the many adventures that he seemed to go on. You had even gone to your parents at some point with your drawings. You had thought that they would be interested in your designs and works, asking you questions with curiosity and intrigue... When in reality, they looked at you with worry, especially since most of your drawings - other than the strange man with many faces - were of horrific alien-like creatures. Instead of compliments and questions, they sent you to a child therapist... And psychologists in later years.

None of the many therapists and psychologists that you had gone to knew exactly what you were - quote on quote - suffering from. Some said that you just had an overactive imagination, while some said that you were possibly stressed or anxious. You didn't like going to the appointments. When explaining your dreams and showing off some of your drawings, they would all just act so concerned and confused. That just made you feel more and more uncomfortable as time went by. None of them really took you seriously.

It got to the point that you lied to your parents and said that your dreams had stopped. The dreams didn't stop, but you stopped showing your parents your drawings and stopped letting them read in your dream journal... And soon enough, they got off your back and you didn't have to see those doctors anymore. 

This all didn't stop you from continuing to draw and write about your dreams though. You kept writing and you kept drawing. At this point, having moved out of your parents' home, and having your own place to live, you had more than three dozen drawing sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches; the same goes for those dream journals. It took around two cardboard boxes just to pack them all away when moving. 

And even into adulthood, you had thought that at some point the dreams were going to fade away, but they didn't. In fact, you could argue that they only got more vivid, and more detailed as time went on. The drawings also became more and more realistic. And you couldn't help but wonder if it was because of how often you drew him. All the dreams, all the drawing, all that practice made you a pretty good artist if you had to say so yourself. 

But you had questions that didn't have answers, and you wanted those answers. Why were your dreams so vivid, realistic, and detailed? Was there any truth behind them? You were sure that there was, but you had no way of proving it. You weren't sure if you even wanted proof some days. The dreams were a part of who you were now, and they were not easy to ignore. It even came to a point where they were talking...

When you were a kid, the dreams were silent. No one said anything. You would just watch as this man traveled around the strange room, pushing buttons and so on. More often than not, you'd watch as he and a friend would travel to strange and astounding new worlds, meeting equally strange and astounding beings. But as their lips and mouths moved, you never heard a sound. It was almost like a silent-picture movie.

Only a couple of months after you turned seventeen, did you begin to hear things in those said dreams. It was as if someone was turning up the volume on the radio really, really slow. By the tenth or so dream, you could hear them clearly as if you were right beside them. You heard their conversations, their secrets, dreams, worries, fears... Everything. You found out what the man with the many faces was called; The Doctor, and that he was a Time Lord from a planet that no longer existed. As well the names of his prior companions and the planets and galaxies that they traveled to in space and time. 

For years, every night, you had seen them and got to know them. You grew attached to them. The first one that you could remember was named Ace. There was even a Charlotte, and Lucie, and many others. But, then came Rose Tyler. Now, you remembered her name and face very well. You had grown very fond of her until she faded out of your dreams as well. It was a bit silly, but when you saw roses for sale, you bought them. You always had roses in your blue vase in your kitchen by the window. And only somewhat recently - in the past year or so - had you seen two new people with the Doctor; Martha and Donna. Martha was gone, long faded a couple of months ago, but Donna had stayed and was still in your dreams as of last night. 

And though, having these dreams was, in fact, very intriguing and thought-inducing, they weren't always so grand. In addition to seeing all the marvelous places that the Doctor and his companions went to, there were the horrors that came with it. You had seen so many beings, so many creatures. And though some were quite peaceful, your mind was somewhat plagued by the evil ones. Though you had once thought Daleks were cool, design-wise, you began to fear them. Especially after what your dreams had said about them, had shown you. You feared the Clockwork Droids and the Sycorax. Not to mention the Abzorbaloff and the Racnoss. And you found the Ood quite interesting, despite their somewhat frightening appearance.

It was around eight in the morning when you woke up, your alarm blaring. You quickly grabbed your dream journal, writing down your latest dream involving the Doctor and Donna Noble before getting to work with a sketch. Swapping your dream journal, you grabbed your sketchbook and pencils. For the next hour or so, you sketched what you remember most about your dream. This dream was a bit different than most of the others that you had had, this one featuring less running for their lives and more enjoying their lives. They had traveled to this planet that the Doctor found extraordinary. It was purple. The ground was purple, and the grass and vegetation were purple. And the large trees, reminding you of Giant Sequoias, were orange and red. You liked the red ones best. You loved it when the Doctor stood in front of one of those orange trees, admiring the colors as the sun rose. You wondered what it might have felt like to have been there. What did the planet smell like? Sound like?

Before you knew it, your mind had wandered, and you snapped out of your memories of your recent dream. Looking down at the two pages that you practically filled with sketches from the said dream, you sighed. Like most days, you had filled the page with him. Mostly. The page on the left had a sketch of the large, towering trees, the silhouettes of the Doctor and Donna standing before them, looking so small. On the same page, you had even drawn some of the plants that the Doctor had pointed out to Donna with such infatuation and excitement. Then, turning to the page on the right, it was filled to the brim with just the Doctor. A collage of his many different expressions; joy, excitement, calm, and content. 

Some were of him from his side profile, while others were of his full frontal view; brown suit and dirty Converse. He had a goofy grin, in what was the middle of a bright laugh, his hands on his hips as if he was proud of himself. His hair was very messy, with dark strands sticking up everywhere, unable to be captured and secured by the gel in his hair. He looked so carefree. Other sketches showed just his eyes, the dark orbs seemed to stare at you through the page; in addition to some of just his nose, hands, or that smile of his. In the bottom right corner of the collage, you had a drawing of him crouching in front of one of the many plants, arms resting on his knees as he stared down at it thoughtfully. 

You found him beautiful. 

That was something that you had noticed in the many, many years of seeing the spaceman in your dreams. He was handsome, caring, and thoughtful. Very handsome indeed, although you wouldn't admit it to anyone. Most people would probably think that you were crazy if you had told them that you were crushing on a man that you had seen every night in your dreams for years upon years. And that's why you never told anyone. Not even your closest friends knew about your dreams, your journals, or your drawings. 

Sighing, you snapped out of your thoughts once more before writing the date and time - ‘March 21st, 2024, 8:53 AM’ - in the corner of the left side page in fine print. Then, right below, you wrote, 'Day 8,432.' Setting your pencil down, you stared at the finished two pages for a moment before closing the sketchbook slightly. You would have to go and buy a new sketchbook soon, you were almost out of room; running out of pages.

Checking the time, you figured you had enough time to look at the previous dreams. Flipping towards the front of the sketchbook, you reminisced over the dreams you had seen throughout the year. The first page of the sketchbook was of the last couple of dreams with Rose. 

Fighting off or running from different types of aliens. Her and the Doctor holding hands, smiling at each other. Staring up at falling snow… Having tea with Jackie… Fighting the Daleks… The tears streamed down their cheeks. The Doctor… Hand and cheek pressed against a white wall, unable to do anything, helpless. And Rose, stuck in another dimension; in agony, heartbroken.

You bit your bottom lip as you flipped through the pages and the memories, you stumbled past the ten pages of Martha before landing back to Donna. 

You had often wondered whether your dreams truly meant anything. You had thought that there had to be some way that they did. Your mind would think rationally, telling you that you just had an overactive imagination like all those doctors had told you. But, your heart wished and yearned for something more. The thought that something more was out there. That there were beings and creatures out in the far-off places of the galaxy that you and everyone else hadn't yet seen. The whole thought was fascinating and you only wished that it was true. You had always wished for there to be something more out there.

Shutting your sketchbook, you quickly got ready for the day; getting dressed, brushing your hair, teeth, and so on. After eating breakfast, you grabbed your messenger bag and stuffed your pencil case, sketchbook, wallet, phone, and whatever else you needed for work before leaving your home. 

The walk to work was a bit too quick for your liking, but time seemed to fly and before you knew it, it was your lunch break. Walking down the sidewalk, you were minding your own business, somewhat lost in your thoughts. Headphones over your head, you listened to your playlist as you headed towards your favorite cafe where you always had lunch; their sandwiches were to die for.

But before you could decide on whether or not to get a coffee or indulge yourself in a milkshake, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You stopped, turned, and then froze. Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping slightly as you stared at the man before you. Dressed in a brown suit with a white button-up and brown detailed tie; complete with a brown, long overcoat and off-white Converse. He had very familiar brown, sticky-uppy hair and striking brown eyes... His gaze, intense, stared right back at you. As handsome as ever. His eyebrows were slowly but surely furrowing as the corners of his lips twitched into a confused frown. 

You were literally speechless, your shaky hands moving your headphones to rest around your neck. He was actually here. Standing right in front of you. After a few moments of silence of staring at each other - but what felt like hours for you - his mouth opened, his voice sounding just like how you remembered it, just like in your dreams, only clearer. "Hello." He said simply, tilting his head to the side and raising his hand to reveal the pencil he held within it. "I think you dropped this."

You looked from him to your pencil, and back, and finally, you could breathe. "O-Oh... Uh, thank you." You took your pencil from him before daring to look back up at him. 

He continued to stare at you, obviously confused that you could practically see the gears turning in that head of his. "Do I know you?" He asked, stuffing his hands into the large pockets of his brown overcoat. He raked through his mind, trying to figure out if he had ever met you or run into you before when he visited Earth, but he was left empty-handed. He was sure that he would’ve remembered you if he had met you. “You seem to know me…”

You let out a breath, blinking rapidly, still shocked out of your mind that the literal man of your dreams was standing right in front of you. It couldn't and shouldn't have been possible. 

"No... I don't think you know me..." You muttered, swallowing thickly, unable to break your gaze from his hazelnut brown eyes. "But... But I do know you." That only seemed to confuse him more. Quickly looking away, you checked your watch on your wrist before looking back up at him, "I can explain everything somewhat if you have the time- nevermind," You shook your head - as if what you had said was ridiculous, which it was in his case - and waved your hand dismissively, "Time is relative... Ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff." You muttered the last couple of lines, mostly to yourself, but he heard you; only spiking his immense curiosity. "Uh, just follow me." 

The man - The Doctor - followed you without a second thought, a step or two behind you as you led him to the park across the street. Finding a park bench somewhat away from the main path, you took a seat. As the Doctor sat down beside you, you took your messenger bag into your lap, opening it. The Doctor watched intently as you grabbed your sketchbook and passed it to him.

He noted your name on the cover before he opened it to the first page and froze. Though as quickly as he froze, he unfroze, quickly but carefully flipping through the many pages of your sketchbook; his, and many of his past and current companions' faces staring up at him.

Martha and Donna… And Rose…

Along with objects and aliens from his prior adventures; the TARDIS - inside and exterior - his Sonic Screwdriver, Oods, and Daleks…

And in the first couple of pages, he even saw one of his past faces. 

He saw little scenes, moments of his life and the adventures he had been on with his companions. He saw a sketch of himself, standing before the Clockwork Droids in the ballroom when they had wanted to harvest Madame de Pompadour’s brain for the ship. Turning a couple of pages, he saw a sketch of when he and Martha were in the hospital she worked at when it was transported to the moon. And flipping a couple of more pages, he saw when he saved Donna from the Empress of the Racnoss on her wedding day.

Once he got to the last and recent page, he looked up at you. And what you had thought was going to be a look of confusion and shock, you were surprised to find that instead, he had a wide grin on his face; eyes wide in excitement and curiosity. "This is incredible!" Your eyes widened.

"What?"

"Your drawings of course!" He answered, gesturing to your sketchbook with a hand, "I must know, can you see the future or into the past? Or do these just come to you? In all my years of traveling through space and time, I have never seen anything like this, to this extent!"

You blinked, "Uh... I don't really know much or how this works... I'm still a bit shocked you're even real, in front of me." You rubbed your cheek, glancing away, "Ever since I was a kid, I've had dreams about you every night." You inwardly cringed when you said that aloud, "They're so vivid, so... Real. They feel so real!" You paused, thinking about it. Looking back up at him, you continued, "I've seen everything you and your companions had gone through. Daleks, cybermen, everything. Well, not everything. But, I've seen a lot of it." You looked down at your lap, "I have always wondered whether or not those dreams really meant something if they were as real as they seemed to be. Or if I was just crazy… For years, I have always wondered if there was really life beyond Earth, beyond the solar system... If there was something bigger, better out there in the vastness of space." You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening them again, you looked up at him; watching as the Doctor stared at you in wonder. His eyes sparkled, filled with emotion. He was clearly fascinated.

And he was fascinated. He was so incredibly captivated by everything about this human who sat before him. "So you know who I am?" He passed back your sketchbook.

You nodded. "Of course. You're the Doctor." You answered simply.

You then watched as he then wordlessly grabbed the Sonic Screwdriver from the inside pocket of his overcoat before scanning you. You blinked again, the somewhat bright, blue light blinding you momentarily as the Doctor stared down at the object with a thoughtful frown. "Well, you're human all right. Nothing out of the ordinary there." He was silent for a long moment before suddenly looking up at you with a small grin, eyes still bright. "Come with me."

Your eyes widened, "What?"

He stood from the bench and offered you his hand, grinning at your bewildered expression. "Come with me. The TARDIS brought me to you for a reason. See the great dying stars of the Berugawa galaxy, see new worlds, and new beings, and see amazing planets beyond your wildest imagination!”

Your eyes widened. The sight of him, the way his warm chocolate eyes gleamed, and the way his face lit up made your heart flutter; the charm. There was always something that drew you to him, something about his aura that made your heart beat faster and your chest tighten; a sort of gravitational pull that seemed to pull you closer to him; like the planets that orbited around the sun. 

You could finally see all the things that you had seen in your dreams. You could live the life that you so wished that you could live. One of adventure and discovery; one of being able to go anywhere and see anything. To learn anything you could, to experience everything possible. And you could even possibly find out why you’ve been having those dreams in the first place. The possibilities were endless...

And then you saw him - the Doctor - your dream come true, standing right in front of you; his open hand waiting for yours.

A smile slowly stretched across your lips as you took his hand, standing up. Hands interlocked at your sides, you followed the Doctor to the TARDIS, which sat parked on the curb, waiting patiently for its passengers. You felt excitement bubble within your stomach as he opened the door, your smile widening at the sight. 

The Doctor watched you with his own grin as he led you inside. You slowly dropped his hand as you slowly spun around you, looking at the lights and the console in the middle of the room; unable to stop smiling; the awe on your face made his grin widen. "I know you hear this a lot, but..." You began, turning around to look up at him, your grin matching his. "It's bigger on the inside."

[j-eryewrites]

Rocks and Rinthonians

MAIN MASTER LIST 

Request: Hi I’m a huge dr who fan and I love your work it’s possible do you think you could create a piece with the 11th doctor where they are on a planet fighting some Daleks and the reader gets injured but hides it until they are back at the Tardis where the reader collapses, then the doctor sees the blood and realized what’s happened and has to stitch her up. Thanks

Pairings: 11th doctor x reader

Warning: Typical Doctor Who Violence, angst, blood, and injuries

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“Let’s go to a mining planet, he said! There are pretty rocks, he said!” You mocked. 

The Doctor flashed you a glare. “It’s not my fault I didn’t know the planet was enslaved by Daleks!”

An explosion thundered nearby as scorching sparks flew in the air. Each spark reached out hoping to burn your skin. The Doctor quickly yanked you to the ground for cover. 

“EXTERMINATE!” The robotic voice of the nearby Daleks loomed over you and the Doctor. 

It was getting hard to focus on anything else besides that cold metallic voice. A unanimous voice you grew to know too well for your comfort. 

The Doctor’s brown hair flopped around as he peeked over the edge of the container you two were hiding behind. He glanced around the room, listening for any trace of the Daleks amongst the chaos of the planet. You didn’t understand how he could focus on anything and everything else besides the threat of death. 

You, on the other hand, were finding it hard to breathe as you closed your eyes and wished you had just stayed on the TARDIS and slept in just like you had promised yourself. 

“Right,” The Doctor said as he crouched back down next to you. “Not long before we reach the control room…” The Doctor’s voice trailed off as he noticed your panicked state. 

The next thing you knew his gentle hand was cupping your cheeks and his sparkling green eyes were staring right at yours. “We’re going to make it.” He comforted. His thumb trailed along your cheek as he raised his lips to kiss your forehead. “I’m going to grab your hand and then we’re going to run. I’m going to say some fancy words. We’ll stop the Daleks and save the day. How’s that sound?” He whispered against your skin. 

You find the courage to nod your head. 

“Good.” The Doctor smiled. Then he grabbed your hand. “Run!” 

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“Welcome to Rinth-678! One of the Rurn galaxy's greatest mining planets.” The Doctor spread his arms out as if presenting the planet to you. 

Like most planets you visited, the view always left you speechless. Even after all the time you spent travelling with the strange man with an even stranger blue box, you never got used to the sight of a new planet. The Doctor had promised you rocks and rocks you got. Icy blue mountains peaked up far above the clouds. The sight reminded you of the glaciers you and the Doctor had visited back on earth except these ones towered over you. You were sure they were ten times larger than Mount Everest. A belief that was soon confirmed by the Doctor as he spewed facts and information about the planet. From the taste of the soil to the economy of the planet. 

“The Rinthonians rely on their mining. An ounce of the ore could provide an entire ship with a whole year's worth of power!” The Doctor exclaimed as he led you around the planet like your own personal tour guide. 

You spun around trying to take in as much of the landscape as you could before the Doctor practically dragged you to a nearby city. It didn’t take long before the two of you snuck off into the mining facility armed with the trusty psychic paper. 

You always enjoyed seeing what the paper came up with each time its use would come in handy. This time you were Chief Mining Inspectors. Well, you were and the Doctor was your assistant. The Rinth planets believed in the superiority of the female sex. A treatment you were not quite used to back on Earth. Soon after, a guide was presented and then you and the Doctor were led straight to the source…and right into the hands of the Daleks. 

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“Daleks. Daleks, DALEKS. You messed with the wrong Doctor–wait, no that doesn’t work,” The Doctor whipped his head over to where you stood in the control room. 

“I think you’re looking for ‘the wrong man’,” You so graciously suggested. 

The Doctor smiled and returned to glare at the Daleks. “What she said.”

“Enough,” The lead Dalek enunciated. “The Doctor and the companion will be exterminated!” Then a chorus of EXTERMINATE sang throughout the facility. One would think you were in a church with how commanding the phrase was. 

“Ah, let me stop you right there. You see this?” The Doctor pointed to the console beside him. His sonic screwdriver was ready to release the signal. 

The Daleks were silent as they eyed the Doctor carefully. “You cannot stop the Daleks!” The Daleks sang once more. 

“See that’s where you’re wrong.”

“The Daleks can never be wrong!” The Dalek bellowed. 

“Just shut up will you!” You barked at the Dalek who turned to look at you. Its electric blue eye narrowed in on you. 

“You see, long ago when the power of the ore was discovered,” the Doctor explained, “The Rinthonians were smart, they knew that the power of the ore could get into the wrong hands, so what did they do…?” The Doctor turned to look at you as if he was a teacher calling on a student for an answer. 

“...They created a safeguard?” You muttered. 

“Exactly! Ten points to Hufflepuff! The Rinthonians, you know what they did, Daleks? They found a frequency that destroys the ore. It hit it at the core causing the ore to lose all sources of power. Brilliant people, the Rinthonians!”

The Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver and pressed a few buttons before pointing it back at the console. “In a few seconds, I will release the frequency, and with the boost of the sonic screwdriver, all the ore you have collected Daleks, all the ore on the planet will lose all power. The very power that keeps you and the other Daleks here alive. Boo ya!” 

The Dalek began to quiver and shake. “EXTERMINATE!” It shouted just as the Doctor turned on the frequency. 

It was hard to see what happened next. Sparks flew, lights went out, the Daleks screamed, and you fell to the floor. It hurt. You couldn’t tell if it was just going dark or if you were losing sight. You could only hear a loud ringing…Suddenly there was the Doctor. You could practically feel the worry dripping from his fingertips as he held your head in his hands. 

“I’m fine…” You croaked as your senses came back to you. 

Then you were enveloped in a hug. The Doctor was hugging you. Now everything seemed to move so fast. One minute you were in the control room of the facility and the next you and the Doctor were being paraded throughout the city like heroes. You smiled as the Rinthonians thanked you for freeing them from the Dalek’s control. Your smile grew tense as you felt something wet drip down your side. It hurt. Why was it hurting? Next thing you knew, you were back in the TARDIS. 

Home. The TARDIS chirped and whirred to life the moment you and the Doctor stepped back into her safe confines. The Doctor was brushing off the dust and wiping away his sweat before flicking some controls. His mouth was moving, but you couldn’t hear his voice. Why couldn’t– The next thing you noticed were the black spots in your vision. Was the world always this swirly? You took a step forward falling flat into the darkness.

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Then there was light. It was a piercing and painful light, but soon the colours came into view. Colours became shapes. Shapes became figures. You smiled as you saw a mop of floppy brown hair resting near your hands. You felt compelled to run your hands through the hair, so you did. It was softer than you could have ever imagined. 

The Doctor sighed before shooting up in his seat next to your bed. His eyes were wide and alert as he looked over you. His view began to water when he saw your smile. Then he heard your voice. Oh, how he wished to take a picture and capture this moment forever. A moment that is never affected by time or space. A moment that never wilts like a rose or fades from view. This was forever. You were forever. 

“Doctor?” You whispered. Your voice was dry and coarse. 

The Doctor can’t control what happened next. He blamed it on the gleam in your eyes. You were alive. The flush in your cheeks said so. The breath in your lungs. He wished to breathe the same air as you. He wished to run his fingers over your cheeks. He wished to and so he did. 

Your eyes widened as his lips met yours. You smiled against his lips as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but kiss back. Then he pulled back. 

“Doctor?” You said again. 

His forehead came to rest on yours. His nose brushed against your nose. The two of you shared the same breath–The same life. 

“Don’t you ever do that again, my wonder girl.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, Star-boy.”

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Comment below if you would like to be added to the Doctor Who tag list!

Tag list:  @bartokthealbinobat​

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[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 30- Cunnilingus

Thirteenth Doctor x fem!reader

Word count- 1.2k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), oral (reader receiving), pining, feelings, fluff, praise, no use of y/n

Notes- My wifey how I've missed writing for her!!! I actually got to meet Jodie too and she's just as nice and pretty in person too!! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

You missed her. It had been weeks… months since you last saw the Doctor and every day without her was agony. She promised she would be back, though, and you knew she wouldn’t break a promise to you. All you had to do was wait for her. But, the waiting was harder and harder every single day. 

A knock at the door made you jump from your thoughts, and without a second thought you bolted for the door. Your heart pounded in your chest as your trembling hands opened the door. Hoping against hope, there was only one face you wanted to see on the other side. And your heart almost burst from your chest when you saw…

“Doctor,” you breathed in relief, “Is it really you?” 

The Doctor looked up from where her gaze was focused on the floor, and her face lit up as he whispered your name, “It’s me, love,” she lingered in the doorway for a moment, “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I…”

In your relief, you didn’t care what happened and you crashed your lips into hers in a heated kiss. Explanations can happen later, right now, all you wanted to do was feel her, have her close to you. You wrapped your arms around her, and your heat bloomed when you felt her embrace you as well. Guiding her inside, you fumbled with the door while never breaking away from her lips.

“Well this was a nice welcome,” the Doctor laughed between kisses as she caressed your body.

You broke away just for a moment to look into her eyes, “I missed you, Doctor.”

She smiled sadly as he cupped your face, “I missed you too, love,” her eyes lingered on yours for another moment. The Doctor breathed your name as her thumb brushed across your cheek, “Come here,” she leaned in and kissed you again, this time slowly yet deeply.

You moaned into her as you clung to her coat. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let her guide you across the space; she knew the layout well enough by now. Without even opening your eyes, you knew where she was leaning you, and it sent a pulse of need through your body right to your core.

The Doctor led you through the doorway to your bedroom, and spun you around so that your back was to your bed. Without hesitation she pushed you down so that you landed on your back, and she smiled brightly as she watched you bounce on the mattress. 

“Doctor…” you whined as you immediately parted your legs for her. 

“That’s my girl,” she purred with pride as she slipped her coat off.

A needy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. In a rush of desperation, you quickly undressed yourself, knowing what that look in her eyes meant without the words needed. The Doctor grinned with satisfaction and she slipped off her shirt and pants before she crawled on top of you.

“Just as beautiful as I remembered,” she cooed before she took your lips with hers.

“So are you, Doctor,” you breathed between kisses. You bucked your hips against hers in a silent plea, “Please… It’s been so long… I need you.”

The Doctor looked down at you, her hand on the side of your face tenderly, “I know, love,” she placed a light kiss on your lips, “I am sorry I was gone so long,” she paused as her eyes trailed up and down your figure, “Let me make it up to you.”

“Doctor… Ahhh…” you cried out as she kissed her way down your body, stopping at your breasts to lick and suck at your soft flesh. Your hands landed in her soft hair as she circled your nipple with her tongue, eliciting louder moans from you. Arching your back, you lost yourself in your touch as she kneaded your other breast.

“That’s it,” she cooed. The Doctor shifted herself and continued to kiss her way down your stomach. Her breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt. But when she reached your pussy, she paused, lost in admiration for your body. “Lovely,” she murmured as her fingers ran along your folds, teasing you with her light touch. 

“Please,” you begged as you blinked your eyes open and met her gaze as she looked up at you from your parted legs, “Doctor…”

“Shh,” she shushed you gently, “I’ve got you, love.”

Not wanting to tease you anymore, and having missed you just as much if not more than you missed her, the Doctor dove into your pussy with an open mouth. She savored the scream you let out as her lips made contact with your skin for the first time in a long time. You tasted even better than she remembered, and the Doctor was instantly hooked on you once more.

She moaned into you, a rush of need pulsing through your veins as she devoured you. Her tongue ran up and down your folds, exploring your pussy like it was the first time. You moaned loudly as your hand landed in her hair, gently tugging it as your hips bucked into her face.

“Fuck… Doctor…” you cried out as your skin warmed.

The Doctor groaned into you as she grabbed onto your thighs, parting them more. She nodded her head up and down as her tongue hit your clit over and over again. Losing control of herself, she rutted against the bed, desperate for some fiction for herself. Between the beautiful sounds you made and the intoxicating taste of you, the Doctor lost herself for a moment. Nothing else in the world- in the universe- mattered. All she wanted to do was taste you for hours, to give you a pleasure unlike anything else.

“Shit… Doctor! Right here!” you moaned as you felt dizzy from the way she worked you with her tongue.

She smiled against you as she turned her attention fully to you. Determined to send you over the edge, the Doctor moaned into you as she picked up her pace with her tongue. Her movements were precise and calculated as she licked and sucked as your clit until your legs started to shake under her grip.

Heat rose in the room as your moans grew louder and louder. You saw stars as your climax hit without warning while the Doctor’s tongue ran up and down your folds. Your entire body shook as you screamed loudly and threw your head back against the mattress. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you gushed into her mouth.

She didn’t stop, not until she was sure she had pulled every once of your climax from your body. It was only when you let out a whimper that she reluctantly pulled away with a loud pop. The Doctor pushed herself on her elbows and watched as your breasts rose and fell from your heavy breaths as you came down from your high. 

Feeling her gaze on you, you blinked your eyes open and smiled when you locked eyes, “Doctor,” you breathed as you reached and caressed her face, “Welcome home,” you whispered.

The Doctor smiled back at you as she leaned into your touch, “It’s good to be back, love,” she kissed your palm before her tone dropped and she smirked, “But I’m not done with you yet.”

[denaliwrites]

Cute Things

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: The Doctor gets you a plushie, thinking it'll be a nice gesture, but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Warnings: Pure, unadulterated dumbassery.

Requests: Open!

"I thought you'd like it," the Doctor tried hopelessly as you stared down at the gift he'd brought you.

"Why... why would you think that?" you asked, bewildered. You held the object up, bemusedly examining it inch by inch.

"Well... You like cute things... and it's blue, like the TARDIS," he offered. When you shot him a look, eyebrow raised, he continued. As if he couldn't help himself. "And, I'm, well... I'm crabby? Ish? Oh, I don't know!"

You held up the little blue crab plush so that its beady plastic eyes were staring right into the Doctor's soul. Finally, a grin cracked across your face. If he'd been holding the thing, he would've (playfully) thrown it at you.

"You are not crabby," you told him with a laugh.

"I can be!" he protested lightly, hand reaching out to pluck the little crab from your hands.

You held it just out of his reach, cackling. "Oh, no," you said, bouncing back. "He's mine and his name is the Docrab!"

"The Docrab? Really?"

You could hear the exasperation in his voice and it filled you with delight.

"What will my friends think?" he sighed dramatically.

"What friends?!"

"Oi! I have friends!"

[raz-writes-the-thing]

“faster, please~” for the tenth doctor please? also I really love your works and have been admiring you from afar for a long while

thx love (if that’s okay)

EVERYTHING: @winchxters 

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18+ BELOW

"Yeah? You want it faster, Doctor?" You all but cooed, fingers tightening only slightly around the flushed head of his cock. He looked gorgeous underneath you like this, bathed in the lightest sheen of sweat as you repeatedly brought him up to that edge and then backed off again. You liked to watch him squirm every time he thought you were finally going to let him cum but didn't.

"P-please, love, I-" his voice choked off as you started to stroke him in earnest, thumb swiping over the head and other hand reaching to lightly curve around his throat. He arched his head back, encouraging your touch.

"Oh, pretty thing," you said, moving your hand over him faster. You used heavy strokes up and down, tightening your fingers around the top and loosening them on the way back down again. "Look at you, begging me to choke you out, huh?"

He nodded desperately, eyes squeezed shut as his oncoming orgasm threatened to take him by force.

"Come on, sweetheart, let go for me."

[simp-ly-writes]

Space Cat

─────── · · A Doctor Who Story (pt.1)

Pairing: 10th Doctor & Cat-Hybrid!Reader, Donna Noble & Cat-Hybrid!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You are a cat hybrid. How? You have no idea- just like you have no idea how you ended up in what is defiantly not a police station.

─ · · WARNINGS: silliness, bickering and possible non-canon behaviours. eventual x reader

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 772

─ · · A/N: I have had this idea in my head for awhile now.

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You don't know how you ended up as a cat, what deal you must have made with a witch in your past life or contract you signed with an unknown devil yet here you were walking amongst the sea of commuters making their way back home for the day.

With the various heels nearing stomping on your tail, or the dress-shoes you swatted at as they held no concern to step on your paws. You cautiously made your way through the seemingly never-ending crowd. The pads of your feet were burning from the hot pavement, furry skin wet with sweat from this record summers day heat.

Stopping at a street corner, you opened your mouth to ask for help- for guidance only to forget the situation you found yourself in. The people peered down at you, cooing and trying to scratch behind your ears as you swatted their hands away- the hairs on the back of your neck standing up with caution before you darted off for shelter from the heat.

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A few blocks down the line, and a few alleyways passed through as fellow cats tried to communicate with you that you failed to understand. You found yourself walking into a blue structure. Walking back and straining your little neck as far as you could, police was written in large bold letters.

Your body slumps forward in relief as you take refuge on the doorstep, you pray to whoever is listening that someone would allow you into the air conditioned space-

"Oh my GOD, Doctor! Look at this sweetheart here- oh you poor thing," a lady speaks before you. She is already falling down to her knees, palms reaching outwards to greet you.

Standing up cautiously, you press yourself further towards the door emitting a pitiful meow as her coo's only increase. "It probably has rabies, best we leave it to its own device-" Your head snaps over, eyes narrowing at the man that protests your possible sanctuary.

You take in his lanky form, the oversized jacket he wears paired with converse and a brown suit. His hair nearly matches your raised fur as you are scooped up into the red-haired woman's embrace as she starts to stroke the hair on your back.

This feels quite nice actually, you think to yourself- allowing your limbs to go weak as you fall into her embrace emitting a few quiet purrs. You can hear her smile as she confidently walks up to the door, keys already in hand and a gust of cold air has you forming a smile- point teeth poking out as the man wags his finger in horror.

His eyes catch your own, his narrowed, finger now pointed in between your eyes with an accusatory manner. If he places that finger any closer- I may just have to bite it, yet the woman seems already ahead of you. Swatting his hand away with a scoff.

"Donna..." the Doctor warns, "...I don't trust these... these things!" he outbursts, standing tall with his head raised. His glare never ceases as you match his own, claws starting to dig into Donnas clothing.

"I swear you say that about every creature, I mean, look at the size of..." Donna looks down at you, your scowl now directed at her as she snaps her head right back up, "...them. Worst they could do is scratch up that already ugly face of yours-"

"My face is not ugly, I have heard quite the contrary in fact-"

"Well the fact is, I'm the married one right?"

"... I guess? But thats besides the point!"

Your head snaps back in forth as the bicker at one another, their voices only raise as your ears start to ring. You try and wiggle your paws to cover them as Donna fumbles to keep you in place. You end up landing on your feet, now free to take in what was definitely not a Police Box.

The high ceilings catch you by suprise, matched with the warm lighting of a hundred lightbulbs illuminating the space. Narrow hallways dart off in all directions as you peer down from the stage you are set on before backing away and into the back of the Doctor leg as he taps his foot in warning.

You raise your clawed paw, ready to retaliate as he crouches down next you you, flicking your head with a warning look in his eyes. "Now don't you start to, little thing. I know what you really are."

Your heart stops in that moment, paw falling to the ground as your eyes widen... well shit.

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─ · · A/N: asks are open!

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) ... (pt.6) (pt.7) you are here