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#tenth doctor fic
Peace At Last
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A purely self-indulgent Ten x Reader fic because I just love Ten so much okay! (gif made by me)
Let me know what you think!
Read on ao3
Tagging some people I’ve recently followed who I think might like it: @denaliwrites @tatennant @doctor-donnaa @quite-right-too @theetherealbloom @my-lonely-angel @casasupernovas @kbishop @tennant @raining-stars-somewhere-else @davidtennan-t
Ten x Reader, she/her/hers pronouns, one use of Y/N
(Sorry if this causes pain especially since it’s the last episode with Fourteen and David Tennant as The Doctor today. Wishing everyone so much love and hope you can cope with the pain we will all be experiencing in 5 hours!)
They bumped into each other.
Literally.
He wasn’t looking where he was going, just trying to focus on not collapsing in the street before he could make it back to the TARDIS, and she was coming out of a shop.
This was almost the end.
He could feel it.
He felt it when he saw Rose but he couldn’t let go.
Not yet.
He had one more stop.
He wanted to be near where she lived.
He just wanted to be near her.
One last time.
He didn’t want to wipe her memory but he had to.
It wasn’t like it was with Donna but he knew that one day she would die because of him and he didn’t want that.
He couldn’t bear the thought.
It had to be done so she could live and she never would have left of her own accord. She would never leave him willingly so what other choice did he have?
Especially after trying to change time and becoming The Time Lord Victorious. Look how that turned out.
Adelaide Brooke still died only it was his fault instead of it being an accident.
“Oh shit! Sorry! I should have been looking where I was going!” A voice said.
“No, it’s m-” He knew that voice. His luck really was great(!)
He must’ve paused for a beat too long because she spoke again. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
That was her all over. Always worrying and caring about others (him especially).
“Yeah! I’m fine!” He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just feeling a bit under-the-weather. Winter and all, you know?” His voice didn’t sound like him. It was nervous, slightly high-pitched, and shook a little. He hoped that she didn’t know that there was something wrong.
“I know. You might want to invest in some actual winter clothes though to keep you warm. Converse and winter are not the best combination,” she laughed, looking him up and down at his unusual (to her now anyway) attire.
He could’ve cried and hugged her at hearing the jibe she’s told him multiple times while travelling with him. Instead, he forced himself to laugh and smile at her.
“Yeah, I suppose I should. Maybe one day,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. A habit that he had developed when he was nervous.
She would have noticed and usually tried to comfort him. But not now. The thought made his hearts ache.
“Sorry but do I know you?” She asked, staring at him with a slight frown. His hearts leapt into his throat. “You just seem so familiar. What’s your name?”
He quickly composed himself before replying with a classic phrase. “No, sorry, I don’t think you do. I guess I just have one of those faces. Name’s David. David Smith.”
She had told him to stop with the John Smith alias as “no-one believes that’s your name. I may as well call myself Jane Doe.” So he had changed it as soon as he wiped her mind. Just in case he ever saw her again and the name John Smith made her remember.
“David…” She trailed off, as if she was trying to place the name, still slightly frowning until the crease between her eyebrows eased. “I guess you do just face on of those faces. Sorry about that,” she finished, smiling sheepishly.
He mentally released a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.
“No worries,” he replied, smiling to try to ease her embarrassment that he knew she was feeling.
She may not remember him but he still knew her like the back of every hand he’s ever had.
They stood there for a few moments, longer than two seemingly strangers should, just smiling at each other before she looked away, a light blush colouring her already flushed cheeks from the cold.
His hearts ached again and pain filled his entire being.
He would never get to see her blush from embarrassment due to looking at him for too long again.
“I should probably go before the snow gets worse,” she said.
He looked around and noticed that the snow had started to get heavier since they had been talking.
“Of course. Get home safe.” His voice cracked. Home should be in the TARDIS with him.
“You too. Before you go,” she said, putting a hand on his arm as he was turning the leave.
He could feel the pain of having to leave her almost bring him to his knees due to feeling her touch again. It had felt so long since he had felt that and he never wanted her to stop.
He would never feel her comforting touch or her hand in his again and he was starting to break
She was rummaging through her bag and took out a blue scarf. TARDIS blue.
“Here,” she said softly as she leaned up on her tip toes and wrapped it around his neck. “I don’t know why but I just bought this. It’s not really my thing and I don’t have anyone else to give it to but there was something in my mind that urged me to buy it. Maybe this was fate,” she chuckled. “There! Looks great!” She grinned, smoothing out the scarf and his breath caught as her fingers grazed the back of his head.
“Thank you, he responded quietly, tears filling his eyes “Truly. Thank you.” He took her hands in his and kissed the back of them.
“You’re very welcome,” she said, just as quietly as him, and blushed once more.
He let go of her hands and took a step back. He swore that he saw disappointment on her face at that.
He didn’t have time to dwell on it for too long as she had thrown her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, taking a deep breath of him in.
He wasn’t sure if his hearts had stopped completely or if they were beating so fast that he couldn’t feel them beating properly anymore.
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, taking in the familiar and comforting scent.
The hug ended as quickly as it had started but before he could feel too disappointed, she had placed her hands on his shoulders, almost wrapping her arms around his neck like the scarf was, and pressed her lips to his cheek.
She stepped back and smiled brightly at him
“Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she said as she walked away.
He was frozen.
Did she just-?
Could she-?
No.
She couldn’t remember him.
Could she?
His brain was working faster than normal.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he called after her before he knew was he was doing.
She briefly turned back and waved, that beautiful smile still on her lips, lighting up her whole face.
“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered, turning the corner as quickly as he could to find the TARDIS before him.
He could feel the old girl humming happily in his head and he smiled at her in return.
The image of his love didn’t leave his mind.
Not even as he noticed Ood Sigma.
Not even as he started to feel the pain of death returning.
Even when the Ood started singing to him and he felt himself burning, he could still see her.
Her smile bright and warm, helping him find peace.
At last.
~ A few streets away ~
“Huh. That was weird,” she said out loud.
Shrugging, she entered a café, still smiling and felt a warmth that travelled deep into her soul.
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writersblockedx · 1 year
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All Consuming: Chapter Seven
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Chapter Seven: Alienation 
Pairing - Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader Summary - By pure accident, Y/n comes across something she shouldn't have. Warnings - A lot of angst, mentions of death and violence Words - 1.8K
⇦  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter  ➪ Series Masterlist / MASTERLIST
The Doctor was seated alone as he awaited Y/n's return. Before they were able to slip out of the hospital, the patient had been bombarded by serval nurses, demanding that she stay put and be cared for. And no matter how much each of them would have liked that, they couldn't stay, any longer and the Pilot Fish or the Bane would have been able to gather her location and would already be on their way.
The doors to the TARDIS swung open and Y/n wandered inside, a variety of drugs in her hold. "I've got something called Tremadali, Andonsetroin and a bunch of other stuff!" She grinned as she raised her head from reading the labels to glance over at the boy.
The Doctor hummed and walked over to her, taking the bottles into his hold. He flicked the lid of the Tremadali sniffed the inside and winced, "You probably shouldn't have that." He said, almost to himself as he put the bottle into his coat pocket. Then he took the Andonsetroin and did the same, flicking the lid and sniffing the insides. "Definitely don't take that!" Again, putting the bottle into his coat. He looked over everything else and shrugged, "They should be fine. Average painkillers. Just don't take too many of them."
And like that, he spun, shrugged his coat off and placed it over the control panel, ready to leave once more. "I'd say you're no Doctor but, well..." She trailed off as her gaze returned to the man who showed no enthusiasm or no sign of a witty reply. Something of which she had become normalised to lately. "Doctor? Is everything alright?" She questioned him. He paused and fought to keep his gaze on the girl without guilt trying to drag him away. Something of which had only pulled Y/n in closer. "If this is about earlier, if this is about the kiss, then I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean for it to-"
"No, God no, it's not that." He cut her off as they faced one another again. "You are extortionary, you're brilliant, so brilliant in fact that technically you shouldn't exist right now." He went on with soft eyes and an even softer expression. "Even if every thought in my brain is telling me that you shouldn't be in front of me right now, I can't help but agonise over the fact I might lose you."
A light smile passed across the girl's face as her hands reached up, cupping the sides of his cheeks, "If I've worked out anything recently, it's that if anyone going is to save me, it'll be you, Doctor."
He nodded before a wide grin spread over his lips and he retracted from her touch. "Come on then!" He beamed as if his previous words hadn't been ones of despair. "We need to keep moving."
Y/n followed him over to the controls, as she held onto the bannister. The Doctor did his usual flicking of switches and pushing of leavers before the TARDIS was travelling somewhere new within time and space.
When it landed, and they both settled back on their feet, the Doctor practically bolted for the exit. All without an info dump on where they were - and how safe they might be. "Well?" Y/n questioned before he couldn't quite reach the doors. He halted to turn and faced her, raising his brows, "Not going to tell me where we are? What planet? What year? What species?"
He shook his head with a grin, happy to be hiding this from her. "No, not this time. Thought I'd make it a surprise. You can guess where we are." He gleamed as he slipped out the doors and waited for Y/n to follow him.
She was just about to jog for the doors, just as he had, when her gaze spotted something. Still hung over the TARDIS controls was his coat. "One second!" She called out to him before walking back over and grasping the material of which he had so easily forgotten.
She flung the coat over her arm, stopping once more as a thud came from her feet. Her gaze dragged downwards, a small file now on the floor which had fallen from one of the many pockets in the Doctor's coat. Y/n leaned down and scooped it up. Her eyes scanned it and her curiosity grew. She probably should have put it back in the coat, ignored it and pretended as if she had never seen it. It wasn't her's, so it wasn't her business. What she had yet to realise, was that this file was hers, in fact, if she were to flick to the first page, she would have been greeted with her name in print.
A passing thought said that her and the Doctor were close enough now. A passing thought of which she obliged. Doing so, she saw the first page and she saw her name. Many questions flooded in. First of being, what was this exactly? And second being, why hadn't the Doctor told her already?
She flicked to the next page and suddenly found her eyes beginning to water. There stared back at her were the test results of the blood tests. These blood tests were then stated as having 'high levels of radiation'. Something of which Y/n didn't need to be a Doctor to know was not a good thing. The same tests which the Doctor had protested had told him nothing, nada.
In short, the Doctor had lied to her.
"Y/n? We haven't got all day!" Gleamed the Doctor as he entered the TARDIS once again. He stopped half way as he caught the sight of Y/n's hands on his coat, and then on the file. "Y/n-"
"You've been keeping this from me?" Her voice choked over the words before they finally entered the air.
The Doctor took a cautious step closer, like he was walking over land mines. "I was going to tell you-"
She cut him off again, "Really? Because I didn't get that impression when you said that the tests had told you nothing!" She looked back to the page and quoted, "High levels of radiation? You didn't think that was something worth telling? You told me to trust you, you told me that you would keep me safe." She paused as she shook her at her naivete.
"I'm sorry. Believe it or not, not telling you was me trying to keep you safe." He said as he took another cautious step closer.
"Is that what you're telling yourself?" She questioned. "Because to me it just sounds like your lying. Who knows what else you're lying to me about? I mean you can't even tell me your real name, you seem to know more about outer space than you do Earth, I mean for all I know-" She stopped herself. She knew. All off a sudden she knew and he could see it on her face. "Oh my god. You're not some spy, you don't work for torchwood. All this technology, that talk of how easily aliens can blend into humans. That wasn't just advice, it was because you are one."
Y/n wasn't sure how she had gone so long knowing him, travelling with him, and only now had that realisation dawn on her. "You lied to me."
"Technically, I never actually told you I was human." He tried to defend.
"Nows the time you want to get smart?" She quipped and he chose it best to keep quiet. "God I- I kissed you and now-" She could barely get a grip on this information. It had all flooded her brain far too quickly and she found that she struggled to keep up. "I told you about my parents. I told you what happened to them and you didn't even have the decency to say that you were one of them too!" This time, her words were littered in sorrow and her eyes were glossy, the vision she had of the Doctor not as clear as it had been before.
"I was there that day, alright? I was the one that stopped the sycorax." He explained, though in such a time, Y/n was certainly not in the mood to listen.
So her head shook and, in a battle to not believe the Doctor, she stuck to what she knew. "No, that was the prime minister, that was Harriot Jones. I know, they showed me the files, had to sign a contract and everything. The Pilot Fish had only come to Earth for some time lord or something-" For the second time, she came to a sudden realisation. "Oh, no..."
"I was the one that stopped them, that sent them away from Earth. Harriot Jones was the one who killed them." He took another step, more certain of that one than ever as they became only meters apart. "Y/n, do you understand what I'm saying?"
Their eyes met through tears, "You were the reason the Pilot Fish were on Earth. You're the reason they killed my parents." At that point, the girl hadn't a care for the tears that had fallen. Though, now, she wasn't letting the Doctor get close enough to wipe them away. "I can't-" Her words were a stumbling mess. She had put trust in a man simply because he had asked her to, and now she had to face such a naive mistake. One glance, and it was like Y/n was staring at her parent's gravestones again. "I want to go home." She finally decided.
"I can't do that." He told her - something she already knew and an answer of which she had expected. "You know it's not safe for you on Earth-"
"I need to leave." She interjected before he could continue his lecture. "I can't be here anymore. I can't- I can't be near you." Her voice shot through the air and the Doctor was in no place to argue. Even if he wanted to, he could tell she was in no mood to negotiate. For now, he'd have to let her go.
"I won't put you in any more danger." He said.
She sniffled, attempting to conceal any more tears. "Fine." She replied and shoved the file back into his coat and pushed into against his chest. Once the Doctor took it, she walked passed him. And she kept going until she exited the TARDIS.
She wasn't home. She wasn't anywhere she knew. But she was away from him.
-
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aidanezra · 2 years
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Happiness is Fleating (Part One)
A/N: Long time, no see! I am so sorry for disappearing. Completely lost motivation to do much of anything creatively. And got sick, again. I'm okay now though, just some chronic illness stuff but I'm going to try and bounce back, hopefully with some more original works and maybe fics of heartstopper, dbh and stranger things. As well as anything in my drafts lol.
I've never seen a crossover with Doctor Who and Detroit: Become Human, anywhere. I know this is definitely a very specific niche and I hope those of you who enjoy my writing will enjoy it! It should be at least a two-parter, this just being the start of it. As always, I'm figuring out the plot as I go, anywho, I hope you all enjoy it! And again, gif choice has very little to do with plot lol.
Summary: Reader is devastated after the death of Connor during the fight for android rights, in denial, they use the Tardis to go back in time the day before he died, but The Tardis has other plans.
Theme: a lot of angst, sorry
Setting: a world where equal rights exist except for intelligent ai, also in the dbh universe where the doctor who universe merges.
Pairings: Tenth Doctor x Gn!Reader, Father!Hank x Son!Connor, Reader x Connor
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human, Doctor Who
Warnings: swearing, character death, grief, alcohol
Words: 2,391
<-Previous || Next-> (To be Continued)
----
"Hey, hey, stay. Please, stay." I practically whisper to Connor. I've held him in my arms for who knows how long, awaiting the doctor as he finishes off some Cybermen. He told me to stay here and keep Connor awake until Ten could come help. It's been so long and I don't think he's going to last any longer. The blue blood seeping from the gash on his side, looking at it makes me feel so hopeless and fearful that this is it. "Please stay, I can't lose you, Connor."
"Do me a favor, travel with the Doctor, and live your life. Please don't fret over me, I'll be okay." A soft smile creeps upon his features, his free hand, the one not holding onto his wound, reaches up to brush against my cheek. I hold his hand there with mine, the waterfall of tears threatening to fall.
"What about Hank? He needs you, Connor, you need him." I turn my head to place a gentle kiss on the palm of his hand. It's cold, his heaters have failed already.
"He'll be okay," Smiling again as he pauses, his blinking begins to slow. He continues, practically reading my mind, answering the questions yet to make it from my throat. "You'll be okay too. The Doctor will take care of you."
"You'll be okay." He mutters, throwing me one last smile before his systems shut down, everything slowing and turning off. And he's gone. He's already gone.
I hold him closer to me, rocking back and forth as I'm riddled with debilitating sobs. I move his hair out of his face, tangling my fingers in his locks, leaning my forehead down to touch his. Tears finally escaping from the confines of my eyes, dripping onto his cold--dead features. I couldn't save him. I couldn't save him and now he's gone.
I stay there, the lifeless Android held tightly in my arms. I lose track of time, letting it flow past me and letting grief evelope my being. Rocking him, whispering what good he could have done, muttering sorries while holding back sobs. Apologizing for failing him and letting him die.
Voices call out my name, muddled by the pain-stricken in my heart, a pair of hands gently pulls me away and up to stand. I close my eyes, ignoring the others around me. When I look back, I see someone take away Connor, carrying him away to whoever the hell knows. I scream, trying to run after him, to take him in my arms and somehow bring him back. I'm restrained as I struggle against their grip, screaming bloody murder. They've taken him, he's gone, he's really gone.
-----
"Y/N, you know you can't bring him back. He's gone." Ten tries to reason with me, he's been trying for the past few hours. But I could care less. I have a fucking time machine at my whim and I'm going to use it.
"Yes, I can. Him dying wasn't supposed to happen and you know that." I snap at him, running around the console, flipping switches, turning a couple knobs, and pressing a few buttons in the process.
"You could create a paradox! Not even remembering you saved him!" He counters, trying to pull me away from the console, I wiggle from his grip, jumping to push the final lever. It bangs, the Tardis whirring to life.
"I don't give a shit about paradoxes, he needs to be alive." I stare blankly at him, gripping onto the console, readying for the usual turbulence.
"Fine, you do this. But if you fuck up, don't come crying to me." His lips form a straight line, as he stares daggers at me, if looks could kill, I'd be six feet in the ground.
I roll my eyes, "I don't fuck up." Pursing my lips, I play with my next remark, weighing the consequences. "Unlike you."
He lets out a small sound, only to be described as a growl. Wow, mature. He steps back, anger painted on his features as the Tardis comes to a stop. I step back, turning on my heels and running out the TARDIS doors, yanking them open. I slam them shut, stepping out and onto the grass of the Earth before me.
"Y/N!" the Doctor practically growls as I hear him run after me, I walk farther away from the Tardis, looking for any sign of what day it is. I meant to come back the day before he died, to keep him far from the fight. So he wouldn't-- Nevermind.
The Doctor reaches me, his hand grasping my shoulder tightly, "Be careful."
"Sure." I hiss through clenched teeth, venom dripping from my voice. He cringes, regretting what he said before.
"I'm sorry." He apologizes, features softening.
I break from his grip, finding a digital newspaper laid on the bench not too far from where I stood. I grab a hold of it, then look beside me, noticing where I am. I'm stood in the park that looks over all of Detroit, I have no clue what park it is or in what relation to everything else it is. But I know what happened here. I look down at the newspaper tablet in hand, inspecting the date. when I find it, strategically placed in the top right corner, I throw it on the ground.
"Goddamn Tardis!" I yell, running my hands through my hair half hazardly, ready for another breakdown.
The Doctor must've followed me because when I turn to stalk towards the Tardis, he stands there, stopping me. "What is it?"
"Did you do it? Huh? Did you change the coordinates so you could get your fucking way?" I seethe, ready to stomp off, but he stops me. Looking at me with an innocently concerned gaze.
"Change the coordinates? No, I don't even know how to do that!" He yells back, turning on his heels to face away from me, ready to jump back into the TARDIS himself.
"Then what the hell happened?" I yell, chasing after him. He reaches the TARDIS, attempting to open the doors. Nothing, it doesn't budge. He tries to unlock it with his key, still nothing. Sonic, nothing. Brute force? Also nothing.
"She locked us out. She changed the coordinates. One of us must be needed here." He sighs, kicking the ground.
"Why the hell the day after he died?! That does nothing!" I throw my hands in the air, storming off. I head over to the railing that looks over the river. I shove my head into my hands. Tears threatening once again to fall. I hold them back, trying to keep my composure.
He stays silent, standing beside me at the railing. I raise my head to look over at the view, trying to come up with any reason as to why she brought us here. Why today of all days? I swear I set the exact date and time- Why would she do this, why would she change it?
"What do you think happens today?" Ten asks me, his hands having hold on the railing, keeping himself steady. I shrug, letting out a sigh of frustration, and anger-- everything that I could possibly be feeling at the moment. Hatred, sadness, grief- all of it.
"I don't know. I only know what was meant to be, what happened before. I- I never knew what happened today. If anything." He rests his hand on my upper back, trying his best to console me. Guess he's given up on anger.
"We need to find Hank." He tells me bluntly, in a tone that's expectant, expectant of me. But why?
"What good would he do? I'm sure he's furious with me." I let my gaze direct itself to him, my eyes meeting his. His expression is so soft, eyes glinting with something I can't even find the words to describe, his mouth formed in an understanding frown, eyebrows knitted as if I just told him everything I had bottled up. He looks as if he read my mind and my heart and knew all my thoughts and feelings with a single look. Breathe in.
"I don't know, but if he isn't the puzzle piece, he may lead us to what truly is." He holds my shoulders gently, his lips twitching up into a soft grin. Breathe out.
"Fine," Breathe in. "It's worth a shot I suppose." Breathe out. I go in for a hug, wrapping my arms tightly around him, "This doesn't mean I've forgiven you by the way. I'm still cross with you." As I say that, I press my face into his chest, hiding, hoping that if I hold onto him tight enough, I'll fade away and never feel again. Never exist again.
"Noted." He lets out a soft laugh, then pats my back as I step out of his grasp.
"So Hank's place, should we start our search there or the bars?" I ask, my hand reaching out to him.
He takes my hand in his, "The bars."
----
"Five bars and we've come up with nothing! Zip! Zilch!" I groan in frustration, kicking the ground with my foot as I dig my hands deeper into my pockets.
"What about Jimmy's bar? That's where we first met him, maybe he's there." He suggests, his shoulders shrugging, hopelessness painted in the browns of his eyes.
"He could be home as well," I add, wrapping my arms around myself as I gaze around me. It's decently cold, and it feels like it may snow soon. The road we stand on is completely abandoned, with no sight of another person, Android, or even a car.
"He could be, but there's a higher chance we'll find him at Jimmy's. He did just lose..." Ten then stops himself when he sees my expression fall, furrowing his eyebrows and then taking a sharp breath. He looks away, "I'm sorry." His hands are stuffed in his pockets when he looks back at me. "I really am. I am so sorry."
"Jimmy's bar then." I change the subject, looking away from him down the long and winding road before us. Littered with protest signs and..Android parts? But we just won the revolution yesterday? Maybe it's old, yet to be picked up and taken care of. And how did I not notice this until now?
"Allons-y!" He puts on a goofy grin, trying to lighten my mood as he holds out his hand for me, wiggling his fingers. I take his hand in mine and he runs. Again.
We take a few corners down the sidewalk along closed down buildings, lights off, and closed signs out. This doesn't feel right. I haven't seen one building besides the bars in town that are open or at least look semi-taken care of. We take a right at an intersection, where a grocery outlet is sat on the corner, aka the only open building I can see. I look in and for a second I think I'm seeing things when I see a speckle of brown hair poking up, an Android jacket donning on the person in ownership of the brunette locks. I stop Ten, my hand gripped onto his jacket sleeve. I stand there for a moment, trying to get a good look at the serial number on the jacket. The Android moves closer to the door, down an aisle and I catch a closer glimpse -- RK...800? No, no, it can't be!
"Ten..." I whisper and he catches my gaze, as I point over to the Android with Connor's hair and jacket.
"It can't be.." He grabs my hand in a tight grasp, turning me around and away from the grocery outlet, making a run down the sidewalk. We turn another corner to the right and we find the Jimmy's bar sign just a block away. This time we speed walk, our fingers intertwined with one another, whether for comfort or for security.
"You think he's here?" I whisper, gazing into the window of the small and very worn-down bar.
"Like you said, it's worth a shot." He gives me a warm half-smile, shrugging his shoulders.
"I suppose," I give him the same smile before looking forward again and opening the door. We step inside one after the other, me first with him following--our hands still intertwined--as the bell rings indicating our presence. I look around the room, a lot of middle-aged men sat in the booths that line the wall, a few younger-looking blokes sat at the bar--except for one. Hank is sat in the middle of the bar, his gray hair pulled up. Since when did he pull up his hair?
"Hank!" I call to him, waving as I make my way to sit in the vacant barstool next to him. He turns to me, donning a warm smile.
"Oh! Y/N! And the Doctor! I thought you two left yesterday?" He exclaims, waving back. Ten then takes his spot next to me, his hand resting on my leg.
"We intended to, but we felt like it was too soon. I uh, wanted to check on you, Hank." I try to give a soft smile, but I end up failing, turning into a faded grin.
"Why'd you need to check on me? I'm fine!" He assures me, my gaze moving to the door behind him.
The bell on the door rings again and out of curiosity, I gaze over. My jaw drops a bit, and Ten must catch my dumbfounded expression when his head turns in the direction of the door as well.
"Is that...?" I whisper, my hand flying to hold his.
"Why is your face like that? You look like you saw a fuckin' ghost, Y/N." Hank chuckles, bringing his drink up to his lips and then downing it in one go. I cringe, the idea of drinking that grosses me the fuck out. Must hurt like hell too. I shake my head, gaze still locked on the new customer. Connor. Connor's alive? I swear he was.. That he was gone?
"Well, I think I did." I sigh, my breath shaking. Hank follows my gaze towards the door.
"Connor?" His voice wavers, mumbling nearly inaudible, but I manage to catch it, my free hand resting on his shoulder. "I.. I haven't seen him in two months."
"What?"
<-Previous || Next-> (To be Continued)
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metacrisisdoctor · 10 months
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TENTOOROSE APPRECIATION MONTH 2023
“A man is the sum of his memories, you know. A Time Lord even more so.”
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abbygracerecs · 5 months
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Doctor Who Fic Reccommendations
9th Doctor
I love you - @alloftheimagines
Just One Yesterday - @lovelyfictional-imagines
10th Doctor
A Noble Ship Embarks - @kisstherainwriting
Now that I saw you, I can never look away - @penguinwithitsarseonfire
Danger Magnet - @thepokyone
Deepest Truth - @quietkatie1864
Are you drunk - @iwritefandomimagines
Having the blues - @doctorslove
The way you look at me - @kisstherainwriting
Make a move - @okay-j-hannah
Snap out of it - @gracesimp
Heartstring - @make-me-imagine
Just like old times - @11thsdoctress
Hear my words - @okay-j-hannah
School Reunion - @starfirette this one is smut
11th Doctor
Deep - @marauder-exe
Little Family - @specialagentlokitty
You make me want things I can't have - @iwritefandomimagines
Touchy - @onceuponachole
You've changed - @11thsdoctress
Starry nights are for coffee and contemplation - @cloginthedrain
My point is... -@11thsdoctress
Is it alright to say what I feel? - @11thsdoctress
12th Doctor
Light in the Dark - @i-imagine-my-doctor
Heartbeat - @morganas-pendragons i cry everytime i read this
A Perfect Day - @quietkatie1864
In Another's Eyes - @cas-kingdom
13th Doctor
Come on in - @fabulouspotatosister
Autistic!reader - @x-neurodivergent-reader
Hidden Colors - @timelord-winchester-22b
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raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months
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A Little Paradox Never Hurt Nobody (Doctor Who One-Shot)
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Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open
Summary: It's been six months since Eleven joined you both, and it's safe to say things have escalated a little.
CW: smut, threesome, filthy stuff im so proud of this
DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
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See, the thing about Time Lords is that they are notoriously competitive. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time who both had (or was it has?) the same companion. Said companion was you. Said Time Lords were the Tenth and the Eleventh regenerations of the Doctor. 
When the eleventh Doctor had spouted his way out of a portal and into the tenth’s console room, there had been rather a lot of shouting, a lot of confusion, and a lot of use of the word ‘paradox.’ Quite frankly, if you never heard that word ever again it would be far too soon. 
After that, there was a lot of discussion around Eleven not being able to be there because he already knew how all this was going to go. All the things Ten had yet to live, Eleven had already been through and while it was general knowledge that one should not attempt to change one’s own past- one was not always able to control oneself if that particular opportunity should arise. 
They’d tried pretty hard at first to figure out how to get him back. There was some ‘timey wimey’ reason as to why they couldn’t just use the TARDIS, and that had been about the extent of time and space travel knowledge you had, so you didn’t put any other suggestions in after that. 
And so, Eleven was still with you six months later. 
You didn’t know, of course, that Eleven still had you with him after Ten was due to regenerate in the future, not that you knew when that was, but what you also didn’t know until about a month into Eleven’s presence was that your relationship with Ten continued on with Eleven after a brief adjustment period. Fair enough. 
And then Ten found out, and as they were both technically (but also not really) the same person, you ended up sleeping with them both. It had been their idea, though you were pretty sure that it had just sort of happened and they decided to take the credit. 
Anyway, all this to say- Ten and Eleven knew how to play your body like a violin, and when they worked together it was as if they moved in tandem. It’s own kind of chaotic different to when they were feuding. They did that a lot too, to be fair. 
Today it seemed as though they wanted to work as one. Riling you up every way they knew how. Lingering touches in bed, a hard squeeze on the way past you, whispered words of desire in corridors and spare rooms. Ten had rutted himself up against your thighs at some point and had unfortunately had to leave before he or yourself could finish- some urgent TARDIS thing. 
Eleven had you pressed into the wall of his bedroom and had you grind yourself silly on his thigh. You’d not been able to get off, and Eleven had tutted when you’d whined that you needed more. You’d practically begged him, but he’d said no- “later, Petal.” 
Things had continued on like that, teasing and close calls where whomever it was teasing you had to run for whatever reason. 
Of course- they’d been planning it that way. The two of them, working together to get you as desperate as they possibly could so that when they finally had at you, you’d succumb to the pleasure with no thoughts left in your pretty little head. 
“Oh, look at that,” Ten said from behind you, pinning your legs open with his own. You made some sort of sound- you weren’t even sure it sounded human. “Haven’t even been fucking into you for that long yet- already fucked dumb, love.” 
Ten’s hands were wrapped around your waist, squeezing comfortingly as Eleven laid one hand on your knee and the other on your breast, flicking at the nipple while he fucked his hard cock into you over and over without mercy. 
“Mm- she does, rather, doesn’t she?” Eleven commented, taking the hand on your breast to grab you by the chin and turn your face side to side. With your muscles so lax, you didn’t fight the motion, and Eleven wasn’t being rough with you anyway (yet) so it wasn’t a big deal. You whimpered, eyes screwing shut and head lolling against Ten’s shoulder. “Desperate little thing, aren’t you, love?” 
You could barely form a response, tears welling as Eleven found a particularly good spot and rammed his cock into it repeatedly. Your muscles were non-existent by this point, having been eaten out twice and fingered to completion once on top of that as well. Ten had to keep your legs spread with his own, and he did so without complaint. Getting to see Eleven fuck you silly over the top of your shoulder was more than enough of an incentive for him. 
On top of barely being able to form a response to anything your boys were saying, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so cockdrunk that nothing was registering for you except the deep thrusting of Eleven’s cock into your g-spot over and over like a mantra you never wanted to end. 
And because you were unable to keep your eyes open for more than two seconds at a time, you didn’t notice Ten’s fingers trailing over your hips to rub at your clit. You felt it though, and Ten had to tighten his muscles to keep you from snapping your legs shut around Eleven’s hips. 
“Oh, my darling,” Ten cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “I know, darling. I know, love. It’s so much. It’s too much. You can do it, oh yes, I know you can. You’re such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” It was all you could do to not start crying with the overstimulation. 
And it wasn’t to say you didn’t feel good. You felt fucking amazing, so so good, but it was so much. So much pleasure firing through your nerve endings. You could feel how puffy and swollen your lips were stretched around Eleven and it only served to make you cry out louder. 
“Hush now, dear,” Eleven said, pressing his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. You didn’t argue, whole body limp against their whims. Whatever they wanted, you would give it to them. Anything at all. 
Eleven grinned breathily, and fucked up into you harshly, not seeming to care how fucked out you were in the slightest. You wriggled against the fingers on your clit, and clung to Ten as though he were your lifeline. 
“There there,” Ten said softly, fingers rubbing tight little circles. “Oh, darling, oh yes, I know. He’s so mean to you, isn’t he? Mhm. Oh yes.” 
Eleven grumbled though it evened out into a moan when your cunt fluttered around him. His head dropped forward, already mussed hair falling into a curtain in front of his eyes. He gave his hips a few especially hard rolls, and your eyes fazed out onto the ceiling above you. 
“Oh, look at that, Doctor,” Ten said, cooing and shushing you comfortingly. “We thought she was fucked out before. Look at her now. Maybe we should give her a break, eh?” 
Eleven grunted, hips rocking softly now for a moment, giving himself time to think on it. 
“Nah, don’t think so,” Eleven replied, getting back into his rhythm. 
Ten’s fingers revived their assault, rubbing against you with such ferocity that you were afraid you might actually combust. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body forced you to climax again, the pleasure bordering on pain with how intense it was. Your clit almost felt like it was burning- and yet you didn’t want it to stop. Ten shushed you gently, rubbing his nose along the shell of your ear and pressing kisses to your sweaty hair as your body spasmed between them. 
Your cunt contracting harshly around Eleven forced him to cum, ropes of his seed painting inside you. The heat of them- warmer than a humans- filled you up so nicely that you were genuinely concerned under the foggy waves of pleasure that you might start crying. 
Eleven rode his high out with your body, no care given for your poor overstimulated cunt, and finally when the last rolls of pleasure were done with him, he pulled himself out. He did so slowly, and you grimaced slightly at the tug of your puffy walls around him. 
Eleven cooed and pressed a kiss to your cheek to placate you. 
Ten let his legs slide down the bed, and yours followed accordingly, unable to hold themselves up for even another minute more. God, you were well and truly fucked. Literally, not figuratively (at the moment, anyway). You lolled back against him, nuzzling your cheek into his neck. 
You hadn’t even noticed Eleven leave, but you definitely noticed him returning, towel in hand and water dripping off his face. Ah, he’d gone to clean up. 
“Now, Ten, dearest, are you planning to fuck her before we all retire for the evening?” Eleven asked without much charm. He was just like that. You didn’t take offence. In fact, his crass command of language was one of the things that made you love him more. “Only asking in relation to clean up, of course.” 
You could feel Ten hard against your backside, and you gave a half-hearted attempt to grind up against him. You were quite sore, but you wouldn’t say no if he wanted to use you.
“Can fuck ‘er tits if you like,” Eleven added, noting the way your legs subconsciously closed themselves. The ache was intense, but you considered it an added bonus to the pleasure you’d just been subjected to. 
“Oh, big load of charming you are,” Ten scolded. “Blimey, you’re lucky I was there to lay the foundations for you both or you’d have had no chance.” 
“Now, now, boys,” you said- the first words in a fair while to come out of your mouth and it was to stop them bickering. Even your voice sounded as though it had been thoroughly ravaged. 
“Can I?” The Doctor asked, turning his attention back to you. One of his hands squeezed at your tit, and you swore you could feel the lust rolling off him in waves from that one action alone. You nodded tiredly. Of course, he could. 
Ten leaned you forward so he could escape from behind you. Eleven took his spot without issue, pulling you up to sit against him rather than lay against him as you did with Ten. 
Eleven brushed the hair behind your ear as Ten positioned himself in front of you. You looked up at his eager face, running a hand over his chest and down over his tummy to wrap around his upper thigh. 
Just as you were about to let go and hold your breasts together for him, Eleven’s big, warm hands took their place, pressing against your skin, one forefinger flicking at a nipple quickly just to tease. 
“You’re so gorgeous,” Ten breathed, dribbling some lube onto your tits. “So brilliant, love. Just like that- oh, yes- f-fuck.” 
“Look at him,” Eleven whispered hotly into your ear. “Not even started yet and already stuttering.” 
You let out a giggle of a whimper, and Ten’s hips started to rock against you. Your tired arms wrapped around the backs of his thighs, giving his ass a little squeeze. 
Ten groaned, fucking your tits desperately. He wasn’t going to last long after having been teasing you and therefore himself as well all day, and it was barely another two minutes before his cock was starting to twitch and he started to moan with that lilt that he always did when he was close to spilling. 
“Please,” you whined, head dropping back against Eleven’s shoulder. “Ten, please- Doctor-” 
“Well, you heard the lady,” Eleven tutted, pushing your tits together that little bit harder to create a touch more friction for him. “You’d better cum then, shouldn’t you?” 
Ten groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his gorgeous neck to you both. Eleven nipped at the tip of your ear, causing you to gasp. 
“Cum on me, please- I need it,” you whined, brows drawing inwards in desperation. Ten seemed to finally hear you, and he let out a desperate little ‘o-hoh, yes, fuck-’ and he was cumming, spilling over your tits, rolling his hips back and forth to make sure he got the most out of his orgasm. 
You groaned pleasurably as Eleven let go of your breasts. A drip of cum dribbled off the curve of your tit and onto Eleven’s hand, who deftly and without hesitation licked it up. 
You were so fucked out and so busy thinking about how covered in spend you were that you barely noticed as Ten decided to collapse softly on top of you both. He snuggled close, not caring about the fact that he was now also covered in his own cum as well, and you huffed out a grunt. 
“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Eleven said sarcastically, now being crushed under two grown people. “Now I’m trapped. I suppose you’re both happy, aren’t you?” 
You giggled out a nod, and you could see Ten trying to contain his laughter as well. 
“Alright,” you say, yawning tiredly. Wow, that came out of nowhere. Suddenly you were oh-so-tired. “Ten minutes of cuddles and then it’s group shower time, yes?” 
“Maybe fifteen,” Ten replied tiredly. 
“Yes, dears,” Eleven added, and you could hear the affectionate roll of his eyes. 
Was it wrong, perhaps, to wish that Eleven would stay forever? Possibly. Was it going to stop you from wishing it quietly to yourself anyway? 
Absolutely not.
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cas-kingdom · 4 months
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Something Borrowed, Something Blue
A/N: Just a little something.
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Title: Something Borrowed, Something Blue
Summary: Ten is back, and by God are you going to hold his hand so he never leaves again.
Words: 1220
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He had registered it when it happened, of course. The feeling of warm, human skin—your warm, human skin—against his own, that familiar rapid pulse beneath his fingertips, was not something he could ever forget. And when it was this specific hand you were holding onto, attached to this specific arm leading to this specific face, he truly couldn’t blame you.
He guessed it had been a good hour. An hour since he’d regenerated, since you’d recognised his new-but-not-at-all-new face and your own face had lit up, utterly devoid of the dread you’d had before. And you’d hugged him, and he’d hugged you, and you’d latched onto his hand and hadn’t yet let go. Running around the TARDIS, landing her, holding Donna’s box, riding in the taxi, sneaking through the crash zone…your hands had been wrapped tightly around the other, each a constant, solid presence.
So, though he had registered it, the conscious recognition didn’t come until he yanked you towards him when he instinctively reached with that hand for the screwdriver. Balancing on your haunches beneath him, you stumbled a bit. An apology was on his lips until he glanced down and saw the white knuckles wrapped around his.
He looked up. Recovered from your little topple, you were staring straight at him.
“Y/N.” He said it softly, eyebrows raising, and you blinked. There was a deep concern in your bright eyes. Not visible on the surface, only he could see it, because he could always see through you.
He lifted his hand, the one attached to you, and the corner of his lips lifted slightly. “I need my hand back for a minute,” he said.
Your face seemed to visibly pale. You sat properly on the ground and slowly released your death grip, your fingers returning to their pinkness. You didn’t quite let go though, your gaze seeming anchored to your hands as though…as though it was the one thing keeping him there with you.
The Doctor hummed. “Hey, you.” You caught your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him. He stretched out his free hand and tapped your nose. “It’s alright,” he promised you, offering a smile.
You nodded, hesitant at first, but more assured as you quickly dropped his hand and drew it back to your chest, holding it there with the other. “I know.”
The Doctor reached into his pocket for the screwdriver, eyes never once leaving you. You were distracting yourself from not physically feeling him, scratching at your head, twirling hair around your fingers, that leg shake you did whenever you felt restless. He couldn’t quite remember you being so anxious when he’d been him all those years ago. An inquisitive child, you’d followed him absolutely everywhere, but you hadn’t needed the assurance of his hand in yours to know he wasn’t going to leave you. But then, times had changed, and so had the both of you. He’d regenerated and regenerated and regenerated since, each one sucking a tiny bit more life from you than the one before. No wonder you’d grabbed the first hint of familiarity you’d received in fifteen years and not let go.
The Doctor stretched his legs out and rested his crossed ankles on a concrete block. He drew a box in the air with his sonic, a map of sorts, hoping to figure out what exactly the spaceship was and how he was expected to save little old Earth this time. Without looking down, he jerked his head a little to the side. “Space next to me,” he said.
A moment later you were beside him, crossing your legs beneath you, hands on your lap as though you had no clue what else to do with them. You watched as he fiddled with the sonic and sat in silence for a good ten seconds. Until he stopped. And he turned to look at you. And when your eyes met, his brows furrowed, and a smile, full of nostalgia and sadness, slowly spread across his face. He reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing the skin. Tears sprung to your eyes.
“I missed you,” you whispered.
“I know. Come here.”
He stretched his arm out, allowing you to move closer and all but bury yourself in his side. His arm wrapped around your back and the other went instinctively to your head, holding you close to his chest.
Your gentle sniffles weren’t hard to miss. He kissed the top of your head, lingering there for a bit, shutting his eyes. “I’m here now, Y/N. I’m here.”
“But for how long?”
He couldn’t answer that. Something was niggling in the back of his mind. This face was being borrowed for an undetermined amount of time, some cruel trick from the universe that by God he couldn’t help but be thankful for.
“Let’s not worry about that now,” he said. He removed the hand from your head and put it between you, feeling you grasp it. You held it tightly, that little hand, that hand he had watched grow, that sweet girl he had raised, and sent a silent prayer to whoever would bloody listen that he’d have longer than he dreaded this time.
“You look different, you know,” you spoke softly a moment later. You turned your head to rest your cheek against him.
The Doctor rose a brow, running his tongue along his teeth. “That so?”
“Still the same, but different.”
“Ah. You look different too, you know. From when this face last saw you, that is.”
 “I grew up.”
The Doctor frowned, subconsciously holding you that bit tighter. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, you did. Can you stop that, by the way? Growing up? I’m not the biggest fan, you know.”
You pretended to think about it wiping at your eyes with your free hand. “Don’t think so.”
“Big shame, that. Massive shame. Probably the biggest shame of all. I remember when you were little little, when I had to tie your shoelaces for you and peel your oranges.” The latter was still true now, come to think of it. “But you’re still that same little girl, aren’t you, hm?” He lifted his head a little to peer down at you, trying to catch your gaze. “Aren’t you, Y/N?” There was a point hidden in those words. A point he’d had to reiterate so many times before on so many different levels. No matter his face, no matter his personality, no matter anything, he was still the same. The same Doctor. The same alien. The same being who loved you with all of his hearts. And he needed to remind you of that, to prepare you, because if what he feared would happen happened, he wanted—he needed it to be easy. For your sake. As easy as it could be. In whatever way helped you. In whatever way gave you back that life he’d inadvertently had a hand in destroying.
You drew away from him to look him in the eyes. Your own eyes were glistening, but you sniffed and held them back. You smiled lightly, then rose on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck in a tight hug. The Doctor returned it without hesitation, shutting his eyes.
“‘Course I am,” you said quietly. “Just like you.”
“Just like me.”
Doctor Who Masterpost
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denaliwrites · 5 months
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Don't Blink
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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?"
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"Time & the Trickster"- MASTERLIST A MCU/Doctor Who crossover
by ijuststareatstuffhereok89
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One last-ditch effort to prevent his total sacrifice at the TVA sends Loki careening through the Timelines until he finds what may be the strangest one of all: one where there is only one Realm, gods and heroes are but the subjects of stories, and Loki is nothing more than a silly character played by a rather dashing actor. His only hope comes in the form of the first person he meets, who suggests a mysterious mad Doctor might be his only chance to return home. 
PAIRING: eventual Loki x Reader, hinted Ten x Rose Tyler GENRE: Time-Travel Adventure, Romance, Some Smut CONTENT WARNING (DNI, 18+ ONLY): some elements of smut, character betrayal, anti-Sylvie, more to come
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Prologue: The Stone 1- A Birthday Surprise 2- Window to the World 3- The Doctor and I 4- The Magic I Can Do 5- Boston 6- Two If By Sea 7- A Titanic Setback 8- For Now 9- Look Up 10- Green Sky in the Morning 11- London 12- The Three Time Lords 13- Those of Us Left Behind 14- Sylvie's Choice 15- Journey's End --Coming Soon! Epilogue
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IF YOU'D LIKE TO BE TAGGED FOR UPDATES, PLEASE COMMENT & REBLOG THIS MASTERLIST PLEASE! Thank you!
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gracesimp · 7 months
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Say It
tenth doctor x fem!reader
Warnings: smut. praise, edging, dom!doctor.
MINORS DNI
First time ever writing smut. oh god.
Summary: After feeling insecure about her body, (previous chubby!reader, but can be read by non-chubby reader I think), the Doctor shows Y/n just how much he loves it.
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"Say it." He commands, voice thick. Y/n's mouth stays open as she looks up to the ceiling, her thick thighs wrapped around the Doctor as he thrusts into her pussy. "Now."
"I-I can't." She manages to cry out, eyes closing tightly as the knot in her belly tightens. The Doctor growls, digging his nails into her hips, the mixture of the spark of pain and pure pleasure making her clench around him.
"Be a good girl and say it." He grunts as his hips thrust harder and faster. Y/n moans loudly as he brushes against her clit with every push. The noise is probably enough to wake Rose from down the corridor, but if anything, that just motivates the Doctor more.
"Please, I-" She's on the verge of coming, and he knows, so he slows down.
"Say it!" He yells, his hips slowing to an almost stop, causing a whine of desperation and protest to leave Y/n's lips. "If you don't say it, I won't let you cum."
"Oh, my-" Y/n whimpers, her face heating as she shyly avoids his eyes. He removes one hand from her hip and forcefully turns her head to meet his.
"I'll stop." He threatens.
In an act of desperation as the feeling begins to dissipate with his halted movements, Y/n quickly mutters the words he had been demanding of her since the beginning. Since he kissed her neck, then her belly, then her thighs. When he mumbled while sucking her clit, to now as he demands her to say it as he pushes into her so deep. "I'm perfect."
To taunt her further, he leans down, still refusing to move his hips as his cock was buried in her soaking sex. "Couldn't hear you."
"I'm perfect!" She screams. Begs. He smirks, finally satisfied as he begins to move again, causing a gasp to leave both of their lips.
"That's it," He praises softly, giving her a quick kiss before resuming to his vigorous thrusting. "such a good girl. Well done, my angel. And you know what happens to good girls, don't you?" He teases, their skin slapping and headboard banging filling the room. "They get rewarded."
With that, he uses his fingers to rub her clit as he fucks her. She moans loudly, tits bouncing with every hard plunge of his cock deep into her. "Cum for me, angel." He whispers, the feeling of her clenching around him urging him to his own release. "Fuck, angel, cum for me, you can do it."
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Has anyone written a Tenth Doctor x Reader fic set in The Runaway Bride where the reader is in Donna’s place? Or could someone please write one? I need this! Maybe she’s a bit different? Maybe she’s like ‘oh sorry. I must’ve gone through the wrong door. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Oh. That’s not home? Where am I? Erm…if it’s not too much trouble, could you take me home please? I mean, only if it’s on your way back? If not, no worries. Have you got any spare clothes? Only, I don’t know if you know this but erm, wedding dresses aren’t exactly comfortable.’ I dunno?
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quite-right-too · 5 months
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Animal I Have Become
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Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: The Doctor doesn't like seeing people harm what's his. (18+ only)
The Oncoming Storm.
The Time Lord Victorious.
The Destroyer of Worlds.
The Doctor had many names in many different languages that spread across the stars. Tales of the last of the Time Lords echoed through the galaxy — the man who had destroyed two entire races, including his own people, and stopped being merciful many years ago.
Nobody quite knew how old the Doctor was, or how far back the legends had been traced, but one thing was certain.
Everywhere you went, people were afraid of the Doctor.
The Doctor you knew was gentle and kind. He made you breakfast in the mornings and told you how much he loved you. His eyes were so full of adoration and joy when he was around you.
However, that didn’t mean he was always like that.
All you had done was stop for repairs. You had a task to complete; find the market stall and acquire a list of parts. The Doctor had already written a list and drew some pictures next to each part to make it easier for you to find.
The city you were in was disorienting. It had already gotten dark, making the directions you were given nearly useless. One wrong turn and you found yourself in an alley. As you went to turn around, a man approached you.
His skin was a dark, rich shade of blue. He looked human aside from that. And the small horns that stuck out of his forehead. ‘Like a devil,’ you thought.
“So,” the dark humanoid man standing in front you took a step forward, prompting you to take a step back. “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” The street lamp above you flickered unnervingly as you inched further and further away. Each step forward was met with a step back until you were cloaked in darkness, just outside of the small illuminated circle you were relying on for just a modicum of safety.
You felt your back hit the wall as you took another step backwards — it was a dead end.
You were trapped.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
Your heart began to race as a silver glint in the man’s hand caught your eye. The low light reflected off the knife that he held tightly.
Uncertainty makes you afraid. Fear makes you reckless. Just be confident in everything you do and above all else, just remember…
The Doctor’s words echoed through your head as you tightened your fists, preparing for whatever was going to come next. If you were going to die, you would not make it easy. You braced for the inevitable as your attacker surged forward.
I will always be there to save you.
The blue-skinned man was pulled backwards into the light and tossed to the ground. A sickening crack echoed through the dark alley followed by a groan and a cough.
Towering above him was the Doctor. Tall and powerful, long coat billowing around him from the speed he had run over. This was not the man you woke up next to that morning or made love to the night before.
This was the Oncoming Storm.
And he was pissed.
Even in the faint light, you could see that his eyes were impossibly dark. He stared down at the man on the ground with a sneer, his converse-clad foot pressing down on his throat. Below him, the stranger clawed at the Doctor’s leg.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” the Doctor murmured coldly. “Why shouldn’t I spill your blood all over the pavement like the filth you are?”
Fear flashed in the alien’s eyes. “Please, I’m sorry,” he choked out breathlessly. “I didn’t know you- I would never have-” He was cut off as the Doctor put pressure on his throat, kneeling down to pick up the dropped knife.
The Time Lord twirled the blade in his hand. “Oh,” he cooed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have.” Without warning, the Doctor quietly and subtly drove the knife into the man’s chest. “And you never will again.”
The thrashing subsided and the Doctor stood up, leaving the knife in the man's chest as thick red liquid began to form a pool underneath him. Wiping his hand haphazardly on his pant leg, he stared down at the body below him.
“Don’t touch what’s mine.”
Before you could even get a word out over what you had just witnessed, the Doctor had you pinned against the wall with a bruising kiss. “You heard me,” he growled. “You’re mine. All mine.” His hands gripped your hips with such force that you couldn’t move, even if you tried.
You gasped as he moved his mouth down your neck. “Fuck, Doctor!” That spurred him on further as he rutted against you, his hardening cock pressing against your lower abdomen.
Nimble fingers undid the button on your jeans, ripping them down your legs with your underwear. “You’re all fucking mine,” he growled as he unbuttoned his own trousers and shoved them down to his thighs, pants following. 
You were desperate for more. Hard and fast and brutal.
The look in the Doctor’s eyes indicated that he knew exactly what you wanted.
Wordlessly, he helped lift you so could wrap your legs around his hips, cock resting at your entrance. “Oooh, so wet for me already?” he breathed, thrusting himself against your slit. “You got absolutely soaked watching me make sure nobody ever touches what’s mine.” His long coat settled around the two of you, offering more privacy in the darkness.
The head of his cock slipped inside you, resting just for a second, before he slammed himself into you to the hilt. “Oh, gods,” he groaned, beginning a punishing rhythm. “You feel so fucking good.” His mouth began to wander down your neck, sucking deep purple bruises into your skin.
As he pushed you harder into the wall, one of his hands wandered up to the back of your head, keeping you from hitting the wall as he fucked you mercilessly.
Even in the situation you were in now, you found it extremely endearing.
“Doctor, please,” you choked out, hands grasping at his back. “I need you, all of you.” You felt him grin against your throat at your words.
“Damn right you do. You’re mine. Only mine. Nobody else gets to touch you.” He enunciated with a particularly hard thrust, “Look at you. Fuck, nobody even gets to think about you.” He let out a filthy moan as your fingers tangled in his hair. “I’ll kill the next bastard that thinks they can take you from me.”
Tightening around his cock, your impending orgasm was making itself known. The Doctor knew it too, keeping his thrusts hard and fast.
“You’re going to come, aren’t you, love? When you do, you’re going to scream for me. Scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to. Be good and come for me. Now.”
You felt the coil snap as your orgasm crashed over you. You followed his instructions, screaming his name. Calling out for the universe to hear. Making sure everyone knew what you were.
Property of the Doctor.
A few more thrusts and the Doctor followed with a shout, burying his face into your neck. He marked you inside and out, filling you just as you liked. Spurting his come into you and letting it trail down your arse. Leaving you absolutely fucked filthily and ruined for anyone who even thought of trying their luck with you.
“Thank you,” you sighed happily as he helped ease you down off of him. It didn’t take long for him to clean you both up and drag you off to the TARDIS.
He made sure you knew you were his at least five more times that night.
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bluuscreen-png · 3 months
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silly silly silly
i’m apparently not immune to the idea of domestic saxteen [and tensimm is also there. if that’s what that in the top left of the canvas counts as]
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magiccath · 3 months
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Secrets big and small
tenth doctor x GN!reader
Summary: in which you are forced to admit your feelings for the Doctor, even if you think he will leave you for it
A/N: For the absolute love of my life and favorite beta, thanks for dealing with me talking about this more than I wrote it
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The Doctor poked his head out of the TARDIS, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. After a few good inhales, he popped back inside the ship, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 
You waited by the ship's console, your hands planted firmly on your hips. The Doctor had promised you a beach vacation, and judging by his face, this wasn’t a beach. Sometimes you wondered how much control the Doctor actually had over the ship, considering it only landed in the places he intended about 25% of the time. 
“We’re not at a beach are we?” 
The Doctor ignored your question and moved over to the console, grabbing one of the many oddly shaped screens attached to the control panel. He pulled his glasses out of his suit pocket, perching the spectacles on the bridge of his nose. 
“Interesting…” He hummed, more to himself than you. 
“Where did we end up this time?” You asked, opening the door to peek outside. You knew better than to walk off without the Doctor, but a little look had never hurt you. 
The minute you opened the door you were met with the bustling noise of a street. All kinds of aliens walked by you, each one unique in their own way. 
“It would appear we landed on the planet Phact, but I’m not sure why.” 
You continued to stare out of the TARDIS wide-eyed, taking in all of the strange creatures before you. Your eyes followed an individual who walked by, a series of tentacles hanging out of his mouth.
“Is it safe?” you asked as an afterthought.
“As far as I know,” the Doctor shrugged, putting his glasses back in his pocket. He moved away from the console to stand at your side by the door. 
You looked over at him, debating if you should tell him that wasn’t exactly a reassuring thought. 
“Since we’re here…” he smiled cheekily, inclining his head toward the door. You laughed and rolled your eyes. The Doctor never could resist a good adventure. 
You followed him out the door, waiting momentarily as he locked the TARDIS up. 
“Remember that time you forgot to tell me it was rude to wear less than three layers on Titan 4?” you ask, watching him slip the key back into his endless coat pockets.
The Doctor shrugs, pushing his hands into his pockets and leaning toward you. “Yeah, what about it?”
“Is there anything I should know about this planet?” you raise your eyebrows questioningly.
The Doctor’s brow wrinkled as he thought about it, trying to remember his limited knowledge about Phact.
“I don’t think so,” he shrugged again, smiling softly. 
You scrunched your nose slightly, not sure you believed him. Still, you followed him.
The Doctor talked excitedly as the two of you walked through the city streets. Most of the time, you only understood half of the words he was saying. Frankly, you just enjoyed listening to him talk.
As you walked your eyes took in everything around you. It didn’t matter how long you traveled with the Doctor, it always seemed like there was more for you to learn and discover. 
The Doctor continued talking, waving his hands about in the air. Abruptly, he stopped to look at a nearby poster. You followed him, trying to peek over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. The Doctor shifted to the side so you could read the sign too, the TARDIS translation circuit making the writing legible to you.
“The 998th Olympic games?” you read aloud, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“That would explain all of the species here!” he smiled brightly, looking at the diverse crowd around you. 
You nodded in agreement, following his gaze. There really did appear to be all kinds of species from around the galaxy. 
“Want to go?” He whispered to you, raising his eyebrows mischievously. 
“We don’t have tickets. Or money.” 
The Doctor wiggled his eyebrows again, pulling the psychic paper out of his pocket. He shook it at you with a mischievous grin.
A smile took over your own face as you nodded, “alright then,” you said excitedly. You’d never been to the Olympics, let alone the space Olympics. 
The Doctor guided you through the crowd towards the giant area, holding your hand tightly so as not to lose you. You tried not to focus too much on the feeling of his hand wrapped around yours. He just didn’t want you to wander off, there wasn’t much else to it, right?
“Y’know I carried the Olympic torch once,” he smirked back at you, still guiding you through the crowds. 
“Why am I not surprised?” 
“What?” the Doctor asked, not catching your comment over the chatter of the crowd. You smiled softly and shook your head, deciding it was best not to repeat yourself.
The Doctor led you to the ticket line, waiting patiently for the guards to check your tickets and let you in. He bounced slightly on his feet, unable to stand still for too long.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” you asked anxiously, eyeing the copious amounts of security surrounding the arena.
“Of course!” the Doctor smiled brightly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. The movement made both of you realize he was still holding your hand, even if he didn’t need to. With a small, hardly discernible blush, the Doctor slid his hand from yours. 
The line moved forward and the guard asked for your tickets. The Doctor winked at you before handing the psychic paper over with a confident smile. 
“Are you serious, mate?” The guard laughed dryly, looking between you and the Doctor. 
“Most of the time,” the Doctor’s confident smile didn’t waver. 
The guard sighed and leaned into his walkie-talkie, chattering softly to someone on the other end. You looked up at the Doctor with wide eyes, urging him to explain.
“Probably getting us a special escort or something,” he shrugged, turning the paper around to see what your fake tickets said. When his eyes landed on the paper his face instantly turned ghostly white.
“Doctor…” you growled softly. 
“W-we should probably run now,” he whispered back. Before you could react, the security guard pulled the two of you firmly to the side. 
“Doctor, what is going on?” You whispered as the guard led the two of you to a police car. At least, you assumed it was a police car. Unless flashing red and blue lights meant something else on other planets, it was definitely a police car. 
“I’m sorry,” the Doctor winced softly as the security guard guided the two of you to an officer. The cop looked you up and down before guiding you inside of the car.
“I would feel a lot better if you told me why.” 
You weren’t necessarily mad about the police car, it wasn’t the first time you had gotten arrested on the Doctor’s behalf. Usually, he was able to get you out of it. You were more frustrated that he wasn’t telling you what was happening. 
“Remember Titan 4?” he winced. 
“Doctor!” you snapped angrily, “I specifically asked you if I needed to know anything about this planet!” 
“Right, I know I’m sorry, I forgot,” he whispered, shaking his head softly. 
“How bad is it?” you sighed, looking down at your lap. 
“They’re not gonna kill us,” he shrugged with a sad smile. 
“What did we even do?”
“You can’t lie on Phact.” 
“Like, physically?” 
The Doctor grimaced, thinking the question through, “not exactly,” he offered. You waited for him to further explain. 
“They can tell telepathically if you lie and that ability extends to psychic paper.” 
“I gathered as such,” you sighed, “but that still doesn't explain why we’re in a cop car” 
“It’s illegal to lie.” 
“Seriously?” you gaped, “any kind of lie?” 
The Doctor nodded.
“Even if you tell your friend she looks fine when she really looks a mess 'cause you want to spare her feelings?”
The Doctor frowned but nodded again, more tentatively this time.
“That’s a horrible idea.” 
“Don’t tell them that.”
You sighed softly in agreement.
“I really am sorry,” he looked at you with those big, sad brown eyes of his. It was very, very hard to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that. It was your weakness.
“It’s fine,” you shook your head. “What are they going to do?” 
Before the Doctor could answer, the car stopped and a cop came around to help you out of the car. The officer led you inside a very space-looking police station to a very Earth-looking interrogation room. You sat next to the Doctor in metal fold-out chairs, a table separating you and the officer. At least they didn’t cuff you.
“Names,” the officer groaned, clicking his pen and hovering it over a yellow legal pad. He had the kind of face and demeanor that told you he would rather be anywhere else.
“The Doctor.” 
“Really funny, what’s your actual name?” the officer frowned. 
“That’s my name,” the Doctor pouted, offended that someone would think it wasn’t. You smiled softly to yourself, finding the Doctor’s disappointed frown adorable.
“Fine,” the officer groaned, scribbling it down on his paper. “Age?”
“904,” he said without blinking. You hid your widening smile with your hand. You were starting to feel a little bad for the police officer. 
“You’re how old?”
“904.”
“Species?”
“Gallifreyan.” 
“Never heard of them,” the officer shook his head, writing it down on his paper. “You lot must age differently,” he grumbled, more towards his paper than the two of you.
“Right, and you?” the officer asked, tilting his head in your direction. 
The Doctor nodded softly at you, urging you to comply with the officer’s wishes. You sighed and answered the same questions. The officer just seemed relieved to write down something less ridiculous. 
“Alright,” he slid the paper pad away from him before leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed “You have been charged with a first-class felony of deception. You will not be fined or executed. To be released from custody you must provide your biggest secret”
“That’s it?” you asked, it seemed a little too simple. The officer nodded, clearly fed up with you and the Doctor.
“Look, folks, let’s just make this easier for all of us and get on with it?”
The Doctor nodded his agreement, casting a nervous look over at you. You nodded back, trying to think of something you could say. You knew easily what your biggest secret was, but you knew you couldn’t say it out loud. Especially not in front of the Doctor. 
“I’m terrified of hospitals,” the Doctor said with a small frown. 
“That’s ironic,” you chuckled, assuming he was making a joke. The officer stared at him for a few minutes, probably thinking the same thing. 
“Checks out,” the officer sighed, writing “scared of hospitals” next to his other notes on the Doctor. “Weird secret, mate,” he added before turning his attention to you.
You fiddled anxiously before leaning back in your seat, your eyes trained on your hands. 
“Does he have to be here for it?” you asked softly. The Doctor looked at you confused, wondering what was so bad you didn’t want him to know. 
“I just admitted I'm terrified of hospitals as a doctor, it can't get worse than that,” he laughed.
“Does he?” you asked the officer, ignoring the Doctor. The cop looked between the two of you; the Doctor staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at you, and you trying to act like he wasn’t there.
“Yes,” the officer challenged, leaning back in his seat again. You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering if he only said that to see how things would play out. 
“So, what’s your secret?” he smirked, confirming your suspicions. “I’ll know if you’re lying” 
You sighed, trying to steady your racing heart. You wanted to scream, maybe even cry. You wanted to blame the Doctor, even if it wasn’t really his fault. Even more, you wanted to wipe that stupid, smug smile off of the officer’s face.
You took one last look at the Doctor, smiling sadly at him. He looked back at you with confusion, unsure why you were looking at him as if it was the last time you’d ever see him. To you, it felt like it would be. He could never look at you the same, not after this.
“I’m in love with this idiot,” you sighed, cocking your head towards the Doctor. The silence that followed was deafening. While the Doctor’s brain struggled to process your words the officer sized you up, searching for any falsities in your statement. 
“What a strange pair,” the officer shook his head, leaning forward to write on his pad again. “In love with the other one”
You looked at those words scribbled on the thin, crappy paper and felt your heart clench. It was out there now, the Doctor knew. At the moment, you couldn’t think of anything worse. You would rather spend your entire life in prison than have had to admit that.
“You’re free to go,” the officer waved you off, more preoccupied with writing more things on his paper pad. It seemed so simple, yet one little secret had turned your world upside down.
You nodded solemnly and stood up, heading out the door. The Doctor wasn’t far behind you. 
The walk back to the TARDIS was really quiet, a stark contrast from a few short hours ago. You tried not to sulk too much as you walked through the busy streets back to the ship.
The Doctor unlocked the doors without a word, holding them open for you. You walked inside the ship for what you assumed was the last time. The Doctor followed, heading over to the console to mess with a few buttons. 
“I’ll pack my things,” you whispered, more to the floor than the Doctor. You moved towards the hallway that led to your room but the Doctor cut you off. 
“What?” 
“I’ll pack up,” your eyes remained trained on the floor, not wanting to look into his. You knew the Doctor wasn’t going to keep you around after this. It was glaringly clear that he didn’t have those feelings for you, that he couldn’t.
“Why would you do that?” he frowned, moving away from the console. 
“You’re kicking me out.” 
“I think I would know if I was.” He moved so he was standing in front of you, tilting his head down in an attempt to catch your eye. 
“It’s ok,” you shook your head, your eyes trained on your shoes, “I know you don’t want me around anymore.” 
“Is this about the whole secret thing?” the Doctor asked gently.
“I know you don’t feel the same, I never expected you to,” you shook your head, averting your gaze again. “I’d understand if you just wanted to drop me back at home.” 
“Is that what you want?” 
You shook your head, clearing your throat, “It’s not exactly about what I want is it?” 
The Doctor remained silent, his mind working for the right thing to say. He didn’t fully comprehend what was happening. 
“You’re under the assumption that I’m going to drop you because you love me?” He said softly, still trying to catch your eye. 
“Is that not what’s happening right now?” You frowned, confused. 
The Doctor laughed softly, moving away from you with one long stride. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the spiky strands. You continued to frown at him, confused by his demeanor. 
“I can establish a psychic block,” he explained, waving his hands about as he talked. You frowned, confused as to why he was talking about this now. “I told the officer a secret, but I didn’t tell him my greatest secret.”
He had the kind of look on his face he got when he was trying, and failing, to figure something out. It was a look you knew well at this point, you had just never been the cause of it. 
“There’s so much of you in my head,” he groaned, waving his hands by the sides of his face, “which is saying a lot 'cause I have more in my head than you will ever experience in your entire life.” 
You gaped at him, unsure what you were supposed to say in this scenario. Was this his secret?
“You take up so much space,” he emphasized exasperatedly, repeatedly running his hands through his hair. “Even when you’re not here I’m constantly thinking about you!” He leaned his hands against the console, hanging his head as he continued rambling.
You stared at him like he had grown a second head. No, three extra heads. And a tail. 
“I’m sorry, what?” you asked.
The Doctor moved back over to you, reaching out to cradle your face in his hands. He cupped your cheeks gently and bent his head forward so your foreheads connected. 
“You take up so much space,” he whispered, his breath fanning across your face. “And the fact that you can’t see that kills me, it really kills me.”
“Doctor-” you whispered in shock. In your mind, there was only ever one way that the Doctor could react to your feelings, and this certainly wasn’t it. “Are you saying what I think you are?” 
The Doctor laughed sharply, shaking his head against yours, “You’re clueless, y’know that?”
“You’re not much better,” you frowned back. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” Your heart thudded against your chest, threatening to beat right out of your body. The mere implication that the Doctor could have even a shred of feelings for you was sending your senses into overdrive.
“Yes, I am,” he whispered. That was all you needed. You knew it was hard for him to say things like this. He wasn’t exactly the “I love you” type. The fact that he had said this much already was a wonder. 
You didn’t really think about it, you just kissed him. His lips fit against yours perfectly and the kiss was over much sooner than either of you had wanted.
Your face was still cradled in his hands as the Doctor bent down to press another, quicker kiss against your lips, returning the act of affection. You smiled happily as he pulled back, looking up at him with pure adoration.
“Are you really afraid of hospitals though?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Terrified,” he shook his head.
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starfirette · 1 year
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School Reunion
He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason...
...especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him. His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side...
❇Tenth Doctor x Fem Reader
❇hmmmm this took a month to perfect! I shall page @bellaswansrealgf because this does indeed have a size kink portion :)) this is cross posted to my ao3 (username is the same if you want to check that out!)
❇ masterlist | 17+ | size kink goes brr | cheeky Tenth doctor | "Mr Smith" | Sexual Roleplay | Vaginal Fingering | Penis In Vagina Sex | Age Difference kinda technically | this word is so gross but I have to put it in the tags Squirting | Also some degradation | Overstimulation | Creampie | switchy Tenth doctor, but he's a dom rn | Older Man/Younger Woman and teacher student vibes but also not really
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You were the illustrious and young English teacher, and he was the older, more experienced Physics teacher.
But it had only been a game. It was the ruse for a job at some school.
Of course you had "just" graduated college; you needed a guided hand to show you how to handle those rowdy students. "Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, thighs clenched and heart beating in anticipation. 
"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' had said. His hand is ruffling up the chiffon of your knee length skirt. "You're so needy for attention. You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher." 
You wouldn't yet go into further detail of what conspired that day. After all, it was a little bit inappropriate of you two to do such fooling around during the hours of an investigation. Rose would have been livid to know that while she was slinging chips and pizza to students and staff, you and the Doctor were rather preoccupied with teaching not the students but yourselves just how Miss [L/n] and Mr Smith ought to behave. 
Of course, the roleplay was divine. Mr Smith was a role that the Doctor deeply enjoyed to act with, especially when it came to shamelessly flirting with you as if he didn't know you. You suspect he had all his fun that way. 
Apart from the canoodling in the workplace, everything else was really a ruse. The way it all started is a little bit convulated, but Rose heard from Mickey who must have heard from someone else that strange things were going on back in her hometime. (Hometime was a bit of a private joke between you, Rose, and the Doctor, it's a play on the word hometown! You and the Doctor fight for the credit of who actually coined the term but Rose often sides with the argument that you truly did.) The Doctor went into full dramatic effect, as he tends to do, and he created you a full fledged identity and a college degree. In real life (for lack of a better term)you're almost done with college where you're honestly pursuing a degree for English Literature.
The Doctor surprised you with the position at this school. Albeit it's undercover, he wanted you to have some fun. His face lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree when he saw how excited you were. Granted, this was a far cry from being an English professor at a prestigious university, as you drunkenly confessed to his prior face while celebrating the win against the nanogenes during the second World War. Though he looked different then,  he still loved you with the same, big heart. 
Hearts. 
Force of habit. 
Day One of the mission was the easiest mostly because day one didn't require real work. Rose helped you research the winning numbers for some lottery tickets. She dropped off two winning tickets at the homes of a couple teachers from the school: one from the Mathematics department, one from the Literature. 
Needless to say both resigned in an instant. Unfortunately this sparked nasty rumors which accounted the two teachers (who really didn't know one another at all) were having an affair. Well, so long as they enjoyed the money. And since neither of their spouse's seemed to believe these rumors, you supposed there was no real harm done. 
Day two consisted of applying for the jobs and actually getting them. The interview process went well. You interviewed with the superintendent who claimed the headmaster was busy. 
'This isn't fair,' Rose said. 'I want to be a teacher.' 
'You'd look so cute as the lady administrator,' you pointed out from the sofa of the Tardis common room. 'You could wear fake specs. Y'know, look over them and give students dirty looks. Type obnoxiously on your clunky laptop. It's such a shame mini iPads weren't invented sooner. I'd look soooo cute carrying mine around.'
Rose groaned theatrically as she collapsed onto the sofa. She rolled on top of your lap, pushing the remote out of your hands so you could pay attention to her. 'Tell your boyfriend to make me a teacher,' Rose indignantly said.  Her nose scrunched as you shifted your thigh to push her off. 
'My hands are full,' The Doctor said through a mouthful of snack food. He tossed a sprinkle of crumbs at Rose, consequently catching some on your lap. You shoved his face with mock disregard. 'You mean your hands are tied,' you corrected.
'Sure,' he said, 'that too.' 
The start of day three. You dressed in a knee length skirt with pointy flats and a smart looking blazer. You decided to forgo a pair of fake specs (though you were known to occasionally need a pair of real lenses ever since a strange trip with your blue-eyed, prominent-nosed Doctor to an interesting laser show which had some nasty effects on your eyes; it was some sort of festival on Mars in the year 3000). As you walked down the hall to your class room the Doctor walked past, heading the opposite way to the Mathematics department. He sent a prolonged look up and down your outfit. 
"Hello, Mr Smith," you said curtly. You had to fight the grin that tussled with your lips. You enjoyed playing your role too, too much.
Mr Smith uncharacteristically fumbled over his feet as he looked over his shoulder to meticulously study the way your bum and hips moved as you went about your merry way. Needless to say this is when he decided to amp up his game. 
The children in your classroom couldn't have been older than fourteen. You didn't expect anything outwardly startling at this point, because you didn't yet realize the secrets this school held. 
You took a look at the lesson plan the students had been going through before their previous teacher took a miracle vacation to Sicily to renew their marriage vows.
Good for them. 
"Who would like to examine the motifs of this scene?" you asked. You were picking through a bit of Macbeth. A beginning scene with the three witches; it should be easy enough. How typcal to have stumbled upon their Shakespeare unit. An obligatory staple of middle school. Or highschool. Whatever grade these kids are in. You tried thinking of it in terms of Harry Potter; are they fifth years? Harry Potter was certainly fifteen during Order of the Phoenix. 
You contemplated this as no one actually tried discussing Macbeth. 
"Would anyone like to mention anything?" Your attempts to get them talking was dismal. Perhaps they missed their old teacher. You felt a little guilty. Even more guilt poured in you when you obnoxiously thought that their old teacher wasn't missing them, not while they were having a second honeymoon in Sicily!
"Anything?" 
You could have heard an eyelash drop in that room. 
"Going on about motif, it's rather interesting that when Macbeth enters, he notes...? What does he say that directly links him to the witches? Oh, goodness, I've lost my place...'So foul and fair a day I have not seen.' Does anyone remember what the three witches say in the opening scene?"
Finally a hand is raised.
You want to thank the kid profusely as you call on her. "What's your name?" 
"Addie Jones," the girl said. 
"Wonderful! Nice to meet you, Miss Addie. Do you remember the line?" 
"'Fair is foul and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air.'" 
"Excellent," you tell her with a smile. "Not only does this line set the overarching theme for the story, it also is a neat trick Shakespeare put in. Macbeth enters a few scenes later and by repeating their words, he's effectively sealed his own fate. This is a pretty good example of a motif. Does anyone know what a motif is?" You scanned the room, hoping for another arm to pop up, but Addie's hand waved shyly in your sight. You understood, then, why teachers threatened to call on students at random. You'd threaten that yourself if you knew anyone else's name. Besides, Addie seemed eager enough to share her answer. "Addie!" 
"A motif is a series of repeated patterns, often dialogue or imagery, in literature used to further a narrative." 
Whoa. 
"Great answer," you told Addie, a sincere smile capturing your lips. "Given that definition, can anyone find other motifs in the play?"
Addie raised her hand. 
"Does anyone other than Addie have an idea?" you tried. To no avail, you nodded at Addie. You took a seat behind your desk, grabbing a pen to jot down a forethought about Harry Potter. 
Addie took a loud and deep breath. "Another integral motif in the play is sleep. Banquo states, act two scene one, 'And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers restrain in me cursed thoughts that nature gives way to response.' Act two, scene two, Macbeth by now has killed the king. 'There's one did sleep laugh in's sleep, and one cried Murder!' 14 lines later, same scene, Macbeth then says, 'Methought I heard a voice cry 'sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep. The innocent sleep, sleep which knits-,'"
You were extremely puzzled. You tried to gently interupt Addie's train of thought, which seemed to be more than just reading directly from her book than actually answering your question. Taking a stand, your flats smacking the linoleum floor, you strolled back to the front of the classroom, your lesson plan in hand. You caught a glance at Addie's desk. Wherein you'd been expecting to see her fingers eagerly scanning along the pages of her open book, you found that her textbook was rather shut, her hands clasped atop it as she waited for you to say something. 
Blinking in surprise, you looked back at the lesson plan. You skimmed through a couple pages. Just when did they begin studying this play? That thought was muting all of your prior Harry Potter saga theories. Only at the start of the week...and they were only assigned an at home reading for the first four scenes. 
Perhaps Addie liked to read. Perhaps she enjoyed Macbeth so very much that she chose to memorize the entire damn play.
You hadn't seen any notes marking Addie's remarkable abilities in the subject, so you wondered on about how she could have done such a quick study of the play. "He certainly prattles on about sleep, doesn't he?" you asked Addie, who grinned toothily and nervously. "What do you think it means?" you continued as you hugged the lesson plan to your chest. 
That smile faded. "Oh. I'm not sure." Addie, who had memorized all the lines and their scenes regarding 'sleep', was at a loss for words. 
You felt a little bit guilty to find that she seemed incredibly embarrassed to be without an answer. You didn't necessarily care, but you wanted to probe for more answers. "Want to venture a guess? Why do you think sleep is so important here? What might it symbolize?" 
Addie went red in the face. She played with the edges of her textbook. Her nails pulled apart the layers of the hard cover, flaking specks of cardboard across her desk. 
"We could ask ourselves what a literary symbol is," you continued, quickly trying to move on before Addie could explode. "What's a symbol in literature? Maybe someone aside from Addie?" 
You sighed. Defeated again. Tomorrow you'd have to try harder. "Alright, Addie, take it away." 
After taking a breath of relief, Addie prattled away, "A symbol in literature is one of the literary devices that an author might use to convey a hidden message or theme. Symbols often are represented through objects or ideas that serve with a literal purpose but have metaphorical meaning which furthers the narrative, much like a motif." 
Puzzled by her in depth definition all you could really do was nod in response. 'That's correct," you informed her. Though it was far too correct. It didn't sound at all like the answer of a thirteen year old girl. It sounded like a line from a thesis paper or even from some dictionary. Her knowledge us certainly expansive but robotic in nature. She can identify patterns, like motifs and sleep and what not, but she can't analyze their meaning. 
You frowned. More accurately, she couldn't form her own thoughts on the subject matter. 
During lunch break, you searched the cafeteria for the Doctor. You went through the line, declining food after food. You made a scene of asking Rose for an apple, and then  you leaned in close as she handed it to you. "I found something a little bit strange. Sweet girl in my class basically memorized her English textbook. She might as well have memorized mine. Have you seen him?" 
Rose's brow twitched with contempt. "No," she said sharply. "Fuck 'im, really, I'm stuck back here slinging chips at bratty kids and he's off doing who knows w-oh, there he is." She pointed him out in the crowd of students, the man sitting at a table and picking apart a turkey and cheese sandwich layer by layer. "He's bein' weird again," Rose snickered. The Doctor smelled one slice of bread. "Oh, God, go stop him. I can't watch him deface himself like this. Wait, take your apple, now. If I was working on commission then you'd be of no use to me. That's right, take some milk, too. Not the skim, you daft. That's basically water. Take the two percent." 
You tried to juggle the milk and apple that Rose had tossed in your arms as you sped walked towards the Doctor. You dropped the apple on the table as you took a seat in front of him. His nimble fingers dropped the bread in a split second and he eyed you close. "I've got something," you said. 
"Ah, ah," the Doctor said sharply with a wag of his finger. "I don't even know you and you're going to sit down, without even asking, and try and engage in conversation? Tsk. You naughty thing." 
You rolled your eyes. "It's nice to meet you," you told him, playing into his game. "I'm Y/n L/n, yada yada. Anyways. Girl in my class-"
He shook his head. "Nope. You didn't ask my name." 
"I know your name," you mocked his tone. "We met at the staff meeting." 
"How do I know you actually remember it?" the Doctor challenged you. "Go on, just ask my name!" He looked much too amused as you angrily peeled open the cap to your milk. 
"What's your name," you therefore said monotonously, trying to void the words of any inquiring tone. 
"John Smith, physics professor. I'm single, by the way." 
"Anyway! Girl in my class! Basically memorized the entire textbook. She had an answer for most of the questions. However, those answers were all...materialistic. I don't know how to describe it. She didn't know how to input her own thoughts. It was like she just downloaded all the information to her brain. Does that make sense?" 
The Doctor nodded. "I've had a similar experience. Kid in my own class has knowledge way beyond planet earth." He pushed his plate of food forward. "Try some."
"No, thanks," you said politely. "I'm not very hungry. Something about this food weirds me out," you drawled as you poked his lightly tousled food around. He was more sampling everything rather than eating. "I've always hated school food. The chips look...odd. The smell of them is somehow off. Does that make any sense?"
"Come with me," the Doctor responded, not saying anything to your earlier rebuttals regarding the school food. "Toss that, I'm not going to eat it," he added. He took the tray and dumped it. You followed behind him as he slid his tray with the other dirty ones. Rose sent him a glare so foul you were surprised he didn't collapse on the spot. A glare like that could make him regenerate. "Found anything strange?"you ask Rose before she and the Doctor can get into a cat fight, an occurrence which frequents the TARDIS.
Rose gossiped, "Half the kitchen staff got replaced not too long ago. And this lot are weird. Get this! The entire lunch menu has been designed by the headmaster himself. What qualifies him to even do that? Don't you have to study...nutrition?" Rose shook her blonde fringe from her milk chocolate eyes. A flare of mischief came in her eyes. "I bet he didn't."
"Is nutrition a course of study? Actually, it is, isn't it? Oh, Rose you should be a nutritionist!" You said gleefully. 
The Doctor sighed. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to keep up with his two companions.
"Oh, shush," Rose chided to you. "The point is we've been at this for three days! We don't even know what's going on. More like you two don't even know what's going on. I've done my part! I reported back to you an' all!" She looked at you both with arms folded across her chest and her eyebrows raised indignantly. She licked her lower lip in a dare for you or the Doctor to argue back, her chocolate-brown eyes strangely malicious. "That's right, isn't it? You've got nothin' to say but-"
"Stop yelling at us!" The Doctor finally dished back. He seemed irritated beyond his senses, which was typical of him. "Your boyfriend is the one who called us."
Rose's mouth quivered at the term. Her lips opened and closed as though she was a fish out of water. "Mickey's not my--hang on a minute, where are you two going?" she finally demanded as the Doctor started to manhandle you. You looked vaguely surprised, staring at him with incredulity. 
"Research!" the Doctor called without looking as he kept his deft fingers tightly wound on your wrist. "We've get a lead!"
You struggled to let her know as he escorted you away. 
The halls were empty as the Doctor pulled you contently down the Mathematics hall. His classroom was certainly empty, all students eating their lunch for the next thirty or so minutes. 
"Show me what you've got," you told him excitedly as he turned the lock on the door. You looked around eagerly for whatever gadget or gizmo he was going to produce. You waited for another moment before you watched with curiosity as the Doctor settled himself easily on the edge of his desk.  "Where is it?" you asked.
"What do you mean?" The Doctor countered, crossing his arms with some semblance of an attitude.  You mimicked the pressing of a sonic screwdriver. "Where's the...gizmo...aren't you going to sonic something?" 
"Oh. No gizmo," the Doctor said. "Not this time. Well, not right now, actually, I'm sure I'll sonic some sort of gizmo sometime soon. No, I actually wanted this time for ourselves. I'm not fond of your attitude, Miss L/n." 
You raised a brow. "My attitude?" 
The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. Your behavior has been nothing short of abysmal. Neglecting me, running about with Rose, and entirely disregarding your duties here. I supplied you with a title of superiority and you have sorely misused it. There's only one word to describe you these past two days." 
For a brief moment your heart stuttered with genuine fear, but then you watched the sparks which flickered in his hazel brown eyes burst into a large flame. 
"Naughty." 
You barked a laugh. You put a hand over your fast beating heart. "That's not funny," you chastised. "I thought you were being serious!"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 
No going back now. Not with the rapid pooling of warmth in the bottom of your belly. The Doctor shook his head, tutting his tongue as he folded his arms. 
He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason; especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him. 
His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side with a not so quiet splash of kinky foreplay. There were zero hints of that face in this one, and the first time you saw it you didn't know what quite to think. 
The Doctor had burst into a bright, ball of golden light. Spheres, marble sized, of such light fizzled around him, orbiting his figure while Rose gripped your hand. Her fingers slipped on the fresh blood, making you wince as she slid over the fresh slice.  The fight against the Daleks had been the most important matter in all the world just moments ago. And now you felt as though...you were about to lose everything. 
Your mouth burned with the hard kiss the Doctor had given you. His tongue had meddled against yours, sweeping the roof of your mouth the way he knew you liked. His thumbs swiped away the tears that dotted the corners of your eyes, and just like that, he was saying goodbye. And then this. 
Dizzying rushes of blinking in and out of reality coursed through you. This almost felt like a dream. The image charading in front of you didn't seem right. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, afterall. You three were supposed to find Jack and go home, wherever 'home' was. No matter where home was, the day would always end with you laying on the Doctor's chest, ear to dual hearts while he played with your hair. 
And yet that wasn't how this was going to end. 
Rose gripped your hand tight. Your vision flickered with stars as her fingers slipped into the gash on your hand. Nausea punched you in the gut as the light grew brighter and brighter. Stop, you wanted to tell him. It's not funny. 
It wasn't funny at all. 
The energy surged, so loud you could almost hear it, you could practically feel it sizzling inside of you. Energy sang inside the TARDIS: the chime high and loud, the pitch far beyond any regular frequency. And God, it hurt. 
The ringing ascended frequency and finally it shut off as the Doctor cried out just a bit. 
The light disappeared. 
And so had your Doctor. 
You crept closer. 
He pushed his leg out, patting the top of his thigh. "Take a seat, Miss L/n," he sighed, making a point to sound disappointed. He would really be if you didn't play along! So you hopped up to take a seat, holding onto the back of his neck for leverage as you made yourself comfortable. 
It wasn't unusual for him to become unexpectedly horny, especially in the midst of a mission such as this. He was one for taking fortified risks. 
"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked. 
"Just that I've been a very bad girl," you informed him with an exaggerated pout. You puckered your lower lip. "I just wanted your attention, Mr. Smith." 
"Consider it done. You've certainly caught my attention with this little garb," the Doctor said as he pushed a hand up your skirt. His lean fingers squeezed the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. The flash of quick pain on the easily bruised skin made your heart rush. Looking up at him, it was easy to spot the remnants of the other Doctor. Your first Doctor. 
Though his face has changed, and you love him all the same-if not more-he'll always have that face. 
"Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, stomach clenched with eager anticipation.
"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' said. His hand kneaded the jiggling flesh of your leg, pinching it and grinning at the way you wiggled in his grip. "You're so needy for attention," he cooed. "You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher." 
His mouth pressed against yours. Lips against lips, both soft as the petals of a flower, but clashing hard, as if you two had never kissed before! But kisses are less than few-and-far; they're frequent. They're the Doctor's favorite past time.
Even with this face you two spend nights in his study, laying in the chaise lounge, your ear against his chest and listening to his dual hearts. Even with this face do you two kiss passionately into the hours of the ambient night lights that the TARDIS has set for you. Your hands plucked at the buttons of his shirt.  His build was entirely different from the previous one he bore. Where then he'd been slightly bulkier with more muscle and mass, he was now slender, lithe, and graceful. He walked like a cat with cunning mischief on his mind. His deft fingers were slipping up your skirt, hooking across the band of your underwear and cheekily tugging them down as he pushed his thumbs into your hips.
He loved, loved, the curves of your body (he always had. It wasn't something that would ever change). He liked to grip the fleshy parts of you tight, squeeze and fondle any parts of you he could get his hands on.  You splayed your fingers out like a starfish, pushing your hand on his sternum just between both hearts. You could feel them both beating fast as his shirt drifted open,  framing his clavicle and abdomen like a picture. He couldn't be more gorgeous than this; freckles constellated his pale skin. The shades that stood out on his skin compared  to yours made your lips curl. The colors were like blots of paint on a pallet in the hands of an artist. 
Confidently, you believed that a painting with every shade your two bodies had to offer would outshine the Mona Lisa or Starry Night. 
The Doctor's hand crept below the threshold of your underwear. His thumb padded through the plush lips of your pussy, nudging at your pearled clit. "Not nearly as wet as I'd prefer," the Doctor chastised as he flexed his thumb in a circle on your clit, not bothering to start at a slow pace. The quick lashings of a hurried pleasure made your body tremble. Like a startled newborn you spasmed in his hold, nearly collapsing backwards. If he hadn't had an arm around your waist you would have made a fool of yourself. 
"Can't stay still?" The Doctor cooed. "The more I rub this little clit, the more wet that oozes out of you. That makes it so easy for me to simply..."
Your voice strained as the Doctor slowly pushed his middle finger inside of you. He moved slowly so that you could feel every bit of your cunt that he stretched out. For all the times you'd ever attempted to stick something inside of yourself, this really took the cake.
Every time you tried it just felt...like you were sticking something inside of yourself. Like there was just something inside a vaginal cavity; Just something inside that was vibrating.
Not sexy, nor pleasurable.
The amount of times you'd attempted to do gymnastics around your bedroom in your home time, stretching your legs or doing back bends, all to find the magical spot that the internet claimed existed. These exploits were all for naught.
Imagine how strange a feeling it was for you to be proven wrong by the Doctor. You swore up and down there was something wrong, something maybe even broken, but no matter what, you just didn't have what other women suspiciously claimed to have. Well, the Doctor loves to prove others wrong. You can imagine how that first night went, with him grinning down at you and touching both the inside and outside of you at once to bring about a genre of pleasure you hadn't realized existed. 
You gnawed on your lip as the Doctor slowly pushed a second digit inside, still tending to your clit to keep the feeling from being too uncomfortable. "It's alright," the Doctor said softly. He shifted his body, making a swift stand as he set you on the desk and settled between your legs, without removing his hand from you at all.  He widened the gap between your legs so your knees laid hip length apart. His tall figure stood straight as he looked down at your cunt which dropped over his hand. 
"And there it is," he sighed. "You're taking it like a good girl, aren't you? Even though we're in a school. A learning facility. Have you no shame?" 
Whether or not he wanted an answer, you couldn't say. Your vision was blurry as he pumped up into a secret place inside of you while also stimulating your clit. The small bundle of nerves was pulsating, having become a bulbous bud of despair and anxiety. It tensed and twitched under every touch but ultimately it yearned for more. You kept tensing around his fingers, holding onto the lapels of his jacket tight. 
The Doctor looked down at you. He smirked. 
"You're holding onto me with quite a strong grip. Afraid I'll pull away? Afraid I'll stop? Your cunt just keeps squeezing onto me. So hot and wet. So comforting. Don't you wish it was my cock?"
You panted out a reply, not bothering to sound witty or naughty. Not the time. "Yes."
A laugh. A genuine sound. The musical chime of it faded before the Doctor replied, "I do, too. But first I'll watch you cum on my fingers. It's alright. Door's all locked. My attention is entirely on you. You've been working so hard, so eager to please Mr Smith. Now you ought to let Mr Smith please you. Although...I should be punishing you. Shouldn't I? I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a real punishment, though. After all, you tend to enjoy it when  I spank your sweet ass."
The mere words sent the images into your brain. The thought of it made your pussy flinch, and the Doctor laughed again though this time round it was a touch harsh sounding. "I knew you enjoyed it," he said quietly. He kissed your forehead, his lips curled into a smile as he did so. "It's alright, dear, it's only me. You can be honest. I quite like it. Oh, my, you're dripping all the way onto my wrist!" 
He feigned annoyance. "Just look...look at this mess you're making."
You dared to take a look. 
A small gasp choked in your throat, the sound making the Doctor chuckle. The muscles of your thighs twitched. The knee length skirt was thrown back so you were sitting bare assed on the cool desk, the skirt gathered around your hips. Your panties were stuffed in the Doctor's trouser pockets: you could see them sticking out. When had he done that?
The tendons in his wrist were flexing as he thrust his two fingers up and in, while his thumb angled upwards to continue the steady pace on your clit. The lazy rhythm which he had set was making you sweat. He didn't seem terribly bothered by the writhing around you were doing.
"Don't you like the sight of it?" The Doctor's content was evident in the way he spoke, looking at the mess with a dreamy sparkle in his eye. 
He appeared visibly intoxicated as a long and loud 'mmm' escaped you. You had a difficult time remembering that the sounds were your own; you didn't always feel physically mounted in your body during your horny escapades. Sometimes the thrall of an orgasm separated your physical self from your metaphysical self like the whites and yolk of an egg. You were being gradually poured apart with every furthering motion the Doctor made. Joules of an intense pleasure rumbled inside of you. Your stomach had a slippery feeling, like a pad of hot butter on a skillet, fuzzy and warm and enticing. 
Your legs jerked around, ankles flanking into the back of his thighs and effectively pulling him closer. He was trapped between your legs-just the way he liked. 
Tension unfurled in your shoulders, slipping away like drops of rain on a window pain. It tingled down your back and you tilted away, Your chin raising towards the ceiling as one of your hands roughly gripped the edge of Mr Smith's desk. Anchored to the British classroom of 2005, you started to feel the edges of a smooth and velvety orgasm close in on you. It was a feeling that couldn't be physically embodied by much else than a velvet ribbon, or a warm vanilla latte, or-
"Fuck!" You whined. "It's-"
The Doctor pushed the familiar feeling forward. It was an intensity that you could only ever feel with the Doctor, with his hand or his cock or his anything. It no longer mattered that the year was 2005; the pressure on your clit felt nothing short of a pulsing burst of energy and fire. Gold fizzled in your vision. Your cunt felt heavy. Something tickled behind your bladder, the feeling making you beg. "Doctor, wait!" You urged him as you pawed at his torso. "I think I'll-"
"That's what I want," the Doctor muttered. "Don't worry, darling, I'll take good care of you. It's alright. Just keep squirming like that and let me rub your pussy to completion. Don't tire yourself-I want to feel you with my cock, too, so just relax and enjoy it. Can't you try?"
The urge to clench your walls and even the muscles around your clit was hard to fight. But when you did, it allowed an enormous wave of pleasure to drown you. You tremored and babbled a string of incoherent words. Some kind of begging, you think, or perhaps declarations of love, hatred, or anything in between. Passions had built up inside you and now  they're spilling out like the waters from a broken dam. Judging by the bleary grins of content through your teary eyes, you were praising him to high ends. Likely spilling out your love for him and his hands. 
Pressure started to release as the gradual high came about. It wasn't an overt transition from pleasure to climax; it was never black and white, it was a grey scale that slowly blossomed to a bright gold and silver.  Weight transpired from the top of your head to your torso and then to your belly. It sank low, behind your ovaries. A heavy, swollen sensation was hanging right over you, taunting the burst of energy that would soon make a mess over the Doctor's hand and shirt. You feared the worst as you pathetically tried to wiggle your hips around. You were so close to that feeling. If you just pushed yourself a little bit more than you could reach it. 
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're about to cum all over me," the Doctor murmured in a harsh tone. "That's repulsive. That's so human of you. It's disgustingly easy to make you leak with just a hand."
You buried your face into the chest of the Doctor, trying not to be too loud with the whimpers and shallow breaths you were releasing as though you were a television woman in labor. 
Babbling out vowels, your entire body released a burst of warmth; like pink ribbons and fresh croissants and the tops of your thighs after you sat by a bonfire. The convulsed through you as that swollen feeling finally burst, indeed making a mess on the Doctor as you feared. 
You looked down at yourself in shock. A grim sense of shame started to take over the pink-flakey-croissant-bonfires-with-Rose feeling. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice a cracking piece of foil as the Doctor licked the corner of his mouth. He quickly licked his fingers clean before shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he said as he quickly moved his fingers to the button of his pants. "It was quite a learning experience, I should say. I learned that you are a very cute, young, little cunt in desperate need of an older, wiser cock. I'm just going to give you what you want. You don't have anything otherwise to say. I know you don't."
You shook your head as you watched the Doctor palm himself. His bulge was prominent and you had to restrain a whimper as he pulled back the boxer briefs he wore, which you insisted on because he wanted to wear boxers, but you found boxer briefs undeniably sexy, and so he wore them; he couldn't exactly do otherwise when the Tardis was replacing his go to wardrobe with other garments--it was totally accidental the way the Tardis now listened to your opinion before his. But he couldn't deny: blood runs thicker than water. And your blood had sizzled on the heart of the beloved Tards. So yeah, sometimes the Tardis chose to play Christmas music when it was only November (according to the earth-calendar programmed into the mainframe, but that was also another story). 
You pulled him down by the scruff of his neck, forcing him to kiss you as he played with himself. Your sloppy kiss was all tongue against tongue, open mouthed groans into one another as you guided his hand up and down on himself. 
Now leaking precum, he smothered himself   In the lubricant and thumbed the slit of his cock, a clenched-teeth hiss escaping himself as you urged him to prepare. But the Doctor likes to edge himself; he likes the discomfort of wanting to chase an orgasm, the self control it required to ignore the body's instinct. 
"Come closer," he groaned against you. His forehead rested on yours. You both watched him pump his cock a few more times; your chest was rising and falling as hard as his. 
He guided himself inside you, kissing your forehead as he slowly inched forward. The brief discomfort as he pushed past the curve of your walls was strictly rewritten into a song of bliss. Mint green paint, fresh croissants with oozing chocolate, an open campsite by the sizzling fire. 
He hunched over your little figure; he was completely towering atop you, the size of a dire wolf pinning a rabbit against his own torso. He grunted as he pulled himself out only to slam his way back in, the motion making you feel full and heavy. 
He worked his hips to thrust in and out of you, pulling himself practically to the tip each time. His hand was tending to your clit as he moved. Each touch on your clit felt like torture, in the best sense. You already felt swollen and every touch was amplified. The starts of a new orgasm made you tired and shudder, your mouth desperate for water as it worked its way through your body. 
"You're so small," the Doctor huffed through a laugh as your figure jerked with each thrust. You were trapped against his torso, feeling the doubly beat of his hearts pounding as he plowed in and out of you. "So pliable," he added as he groped the side of your thigh exposed by the wrinkled fabric of your skirt. "So hot and tight while I have my way with you. You couldn't help yourself. You just had to be fucked right now, just like this. Always needing my attention, always, always. I never thought you'd be so bratty in public! I like it."
"Stop talking," you groaned. "That's all you ever do. Talk, talk, talk. I think you like that, more." 
The Doctor gripped your chin, slowing his movements down. His hand skittered away from your clit but you were quick to pin it in place. You pushed one of your fingers inside of his mouth, watching him pucker his lips around the digit and sucking. His thick eyelashes fluttered before he jerked his head back. "Not your turn, princess," he sneered. "I'm in charge right now." 
"You like when I'm in charge, too," you retorted. "You could just give up, you know." 
The Doctor once again groped at you, squeezing hard on your pebbled nipples with a growl of warning. "Not the time," he told you with a rough thrust up. It made you gasp and heel over as the spotlight of sudden pleasure shone over you; the Doctor smirked as he carefully weened his way back into a quicker pace than he had been previously going at. "Don't you dare stop," you pleaded as you gripped him by the collar of his button down. "Or you're in for a load of trouble when we get home." The Doctor's brown eyes twinkled at the idea: home on the Tardis, being straddled and used by you, it sounded like a marvelous plan. 
"I'm not the one who's about to get a load," the Doctor said, grinning at the gross slang, but he was unable to really care because your cheeks had tears dripping down them. "Can't wait to see how full you become. I'll be dripping down your legs the rest of the day." 
"Shut up," you whimpered as you tilted your head back. 
Honestly speaking you quite enjoyed his babbling chit chat. He really did like to hear himself talk. You liked it as well. 
"Make me." 
You two pressed your mouths into a rough mold, your tongues slithering over tips and teeth. Your arms wrapped over the back of his neck, locking him in place. His chuckles dripped down your throat as he vocalized his own pleasure. Your breathing hastened. Panting like a dog in the summer heat, you were kissing him back as if it were a fight for your life. You clenched all your body into a rigid stake as the peak of the orgasm finally prodded into your cunt. The Doctor's hands pressed into your hips and legs, his thumbs rubbing calming circles into you as he moaned. He was much more accepting of the pleasure wave as it rode through him. 
Hiccuping whimpers fluttered into the Doctor's mouth as your slick, wet released. The feeling made the Doctor groan, loud and strong as he finally released the gates of his own seed. He grunted as he made sloppy thrusts; cum mixed and squeezed out of you like the lemon custard in a powdered donut, a rare, sweet, tart taste that made your eyes water. 
Your mouths pulled apart with a loud smack. You both looked down at the mess. He pumped in and out a few times, hissing as you suckled a bite on the underside of his jaw. You cried out a curse as he swiftly pulled out and gripped his cock, the limb still half hard. He pushed the tip of himself against your clit, making a harsh circle so your bodies both shuddered. "Too much," he said between clenched teeth. He released a breath as final spurts of his seed painted on the lips of your pussy. 
The strain on his chest eased. 
The Doctor swayed forward. His face lulled into a lazy grin, tucking itself within the crook of your neck. Carefully exhaling your last deep breath, you slid back so you were laying face up, looking at the ceiling as the Doctor remained curled atop you. He hummed with content, rubbing his hand over the soft skin of your pelvis. Your skirt was still flipped up; his pants were unbuttoned. 
Panting. The fluorescent lights seemed so homely in the aftershocks of this feeling. Left over in your core was the tingling of the orgasmic pain on your clit, now soft and bruised, but for good reason. 
"I really think there's something strange going on," you mentioned after a few minutes of calm silence. You softly scratched his scalp, combing through his soft hair while he purred at the feeling, reminding you of a cat. "This school seems off." 
"I'm tired," the Doctor said. "Work seems boring, now." 
"It's life or death," you pointed out. 
"Is it?"
"You're just fucked out, aren't you?" you pointed out again but with a laugh this time. 
"Yeah, you're probably right...probably." 
"I'm always right," you informed him. "The sooner you realize that, the easier your life will be." 
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sometimes I see David Tennant's face in Doctor Who as he monologues about time travel/immortality/the eternal loneliness and I go...that's him. that's my rotten lil guy. my wretched wreck of a dude. wreckage in humanoid form. the lonely divine corrupted by himself forgiven by himself made by himself made by his companions made by the universe. horrible and horrifying and far too human and not human enough. the worst thing to ever happen to so many (Martha, Adelaide, Astrid, everyone else who flashed through that whole montage thanks to Davros). a corrupter. a corruption. a cleansing. a man carved out of grief and love and pathos and hatred and grudges and forgiveness who can only make the worst decisions with the best, most selfish of intentions. a man who loved until he lost everything. a man, more than any other doctor, who should never be left alone, and yet he dies alone, with the shortest regeneration speech of any doctor. desperately lonely, desperately tragic, a disaster of a man who is too careless with everything and everyone around him.
And yet I care about him so much, because he is also the man who at the end of it all, after he lost everyone and everything he held dear, after he lost rose and donna and sarah jane and jack and martha and mickey left him and he was more alone than he's ever been, he does the right thing. the kind thing. he stops the time lords from descending on the earth. he once again gives up his people because he understands that the Time Lords Victorious cannot and should not ever be the way to go. he steps in and he saves wilfred mott. he lets himself become the doctor once again. he doesn't want to go, but instead of taking that one final step into godhood, he gives his next self a chance at being a better doctor than he ever could be.
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