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hauntingcryptids · 1 year

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Touch Starved

Capaldi!Doctor x Reader

Summary - The Doctor has noticed your behaviour change over your time in his TARDIS and is determined to do something about it.

Based On This Request -

Warnings - Themes of depression and loneliness, not great parents

Word Count - 1292

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. This was requested and posted on my old Tumblr account and I just wanted to post it on here. I hope that you enjoy it!

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You were a very affectionate person. You knew this from a very young age as you would love to hug your friends and want to hold their hands constantly. Your parents, however, instilled in you the harshness of society and how many people don’t like random and public displays of affection or how some people can use your naturally affectionate against you. So, they quickly moulded your behaviour after childhood and taught you to restrain yourself. They said that affection was cute when presented in children, but annoying and awkward when seen in adults.

After you grew up and went into higher education, your parents expected you to follow their influence. So, you grew colder and more isolated with age until you barely showed your friends physical affection at all.

When you first met The Doctor, you saw this opportunity to shed the influence of your parents and to return to your warm and bubbly self, but you hadn’t tried to hug either him or Clara, yet. You grew insecure when you heard The Doctor’s protests to Clara’s hugs. He would always give in, though, but you could see that he was still a bit uncomfortable with the act. You understood that Clara was The Doctor’s companion longer than you, though it still hurt your heart every time you would see the two of them hug or hold hands.

You wanted affection so badly your body physically hurt. You didn’t know who to tell, though. So, you internalized your past and your current wants. You began staying in more, staying in your room in The TARDIS and usually sleeping. You were conflicted with yourself. You knew what you wanted, but the voices of your parents continued to echo throughout your head. So, you stayed in and secluded yourself so as to not be tempted into giving into your more affectionate personality.

After much convincing from both Clara and The Doctor (both of them knocking on your bedroom door constantly to see if you were okay), the three of you went on an adventure together. The Doctor decided to take the pair of you to a planetary market. They both explained that they had both been there before, The Doctor many times so, but the two of them figured that you would appreciate the aesthetics of the planet, as well. You have described to both of them many times that you always loved fairs and festivals and markets as they always gave you an opportunity to meet and interact with many individuals. Even if you avoided physical touch, you loved spending time with new people.

As soon as you arrived on the planet, your spirits instantly rose. You would go from booth to booth, talking to all of the individuals from various planets and people, just happy to interact with all of them.

You then went to one booth, excited by what they were selling, but you were unable to understand the seller. The Doctor came up from behind you and unexpectedly placed one of his slim hands on the small of your back. You tried to concentrate on what he was saying and his conversation with the seller, but your mind continued to drift to the weight of The Doctor’s hand on your back.

Clara motioned for the two of you to join her at another booth down the main market pathway. It was clad in different accessories such as jewellery and scarves and hats. The Doctor’s hand moved up your back to between your shoulder blades as he pushed you toward the booth. Once there, he dramatically picked up various accoutrements and moved you around like a model to see which was the best looking on you. Clara giggled, then added to The Doctor’s madness by wrapping a thickly-knit purple scarf, with stars and moons embroidered into the fabric, dramatically around your neck. The pair of them stepped back and smiled broadly.

Clara removed a strange hat from your head and The Doctor removed the scarf while you struggled to get a complicated bracelet off of your wrist. You tried to ask them multiple times what they were doing, but they always responded with a jolly “isn’t it obvious?” You had finally removed the bracelet when you saw The Doctor holding a bag out to you.

“What’s this?”

“The scarf. You looked good in it and I thought that you would want a souvenir.” He smiled and shoved the bag into your shocked hands before quickly taking your arm in his and walking after Clara who had gone to find some edible food for you and her’s Human palate.

The day continued just the same. Clara and The Doctor trying to make you happy by showing you the wonders of the Universe and the amazing celebrations of this planet. All of you ate strange foods (as long as they were safe) and you got a few more souvenirs. All the while, The Doctor always had a hand on your back or his arm hooked around yours. You couldn’t understand the change in attitude and what was happening and why The Doctor was acting so differently. The three of you even took a couple of photos in front of a monument with your arms all wrapped around each other. The Doctor, rarely, if ever, acted like this, but you were enjoying it.

You were starting to worry, though, that this was just The Doctor’s way of giving you one last great adventure before sending you back to Earth. This plagued your mind even though you tried to enjoy the rest of the day and create lifelong memories of your time with your friends. But your inner fears were continuing to rage in a confusing rubble in your brain when the three of you returned to The TARDIS and The Doctor said to prepare for a much more running-filled adventure tomorrow.

“Both of us?” You stayed behind after Clara said her goodnights and went to her room in order to ask some of your questions.

“Not just you and Clara?”

“Why wouldn’t you be there, Y/n? Are you not feeling okay?” You shook your head in confusion.

“I just thought that you were taking me home. This adventure was so fun and happy, I had figured that it would be my last one.”

“Do you want to go home?” You practically screamed a frantic “no!” back to The Doctor, probably a bit too quickly.

“Then why would I make you do so?”

“I don't really know. I was just worried that I might have made you and Clara uncomfortable because of how much I love showing affection to the people I care about.” You were looking down at your shoes until you felt The Doctor’s hands come to firmly hold your shoulders. You looked up at him, but you were still too afraid to look him in the eye.

“Y/n, I promise you that you have not made either of us uncomfortable. We know that you care about us, and our boundaries and we really appreciate that. I do especially. I’m not that big of a hugger, but I will always love a hug from you. Whenever you need one, just ask.” The Doctor smiled bittersweetly, he could see that you were on the verge of tears, and he just wanted to make you happy. He slowly opened his arms for you, and you fell into his chest. The Doctor ran a hand over your back, rubbing relaxing circles into your muscles, while his other arm was wrapped around your neck, gently curling you into his torso. The two of you stayed like this for a while, you couldn’t tell how long, just simply enjoying the relaxing peace of the gesture.

#ghost's posts #my writing #fanfiction #anon #x reader #doctor who #doctor who x reader #the doctor #the doctor x reader #capaldi!doctor x reader #capaldi!doctor #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #twelfth doctor #twelfth doctor x reader

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run-clever-boy · 2 months

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I love this gif, let me tell you why

I'm an absolute sucker for 12. But this gif inspires my brain on a whole new level.

- the WALK

The way he slows down as he gets closer to her, and she's backed up agsinst the console. *chef's kiss*

- just the vibe

He looks at her like all he can think about is pinning her against that console (prove me wrong!) Mood lighting is a major deal

- 👏CHE👏MIS👏TRY

She doesn't even back away, she leans in. You can cut the sexual tension with a knife.

Long story short i wish i was clara in this gif.

#doctor who #the doctor #12th doctor #peter capaldi #fanfiction #12th doctor x reader #twelfth doctor x reader #twelve x reader #twelfth doctor #twelfth doctor x reader

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raz-writes-the-thing · 3 months

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Better? (Doctor Who Drabble)

Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor comes to realise his lack of physical affection has been having more of an impact than he thought.

Fic type: hurt/comfort

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

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had made sense when he'd first regenerated. It had seemed to be a particularly difficult regeneration, but you'd thought maybe he'd grow out of the aversion to your touch. You had hoped, anyway.

Yes, you'd been with him when he'd had his previous face, and you'd loved him through all his faults and issues, and you'd thought, or rather hoped, that when he regenerated that he would feel the same.

But it was hard to tell.

Day in and day out, he barely touched you. He'd hold your hand as you ran from Daleks or squeezed your arm to get your attention to show you something at a market. He'd pat your head affectionately and give you a charming smile from across the room. But he didn't... touch you anymore. He didn't embrace you, he didn't brush his thumb over your cheek or tuck your ear when it was long enough for tucking. He didn't press light kisses to your cheeks.

And yet, sometimes when he smiled at you, it was still like he saw the universe in your eyes. It was confusing and hurtful, and you weren't sure how much longer you could live with that kind of uncertainty.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor asked, looking over your form suspiciously. Nothing got past him, clearly. You sighed deeply, rubbing at your forehead. "And don't give me that 'it's fine' nonsense you humans do, either. Come on, spit it out."

You gave him a warning look and he backed off... but only barely. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, making you smile despite yourself.

"What is it?" He asked again, softer this time. His brows furrowed in concern when he realised this might actually be something serious and not a 'silly human problem' as he called them.

"Do you not love me any more?" You asked, immediately regretting the wording. All these months you'd practised what you'd wanted to say and when the moment finally came- you botched it. Figures.

"Love you? Of course, I love you," he scoffed. "What kind of silly question is that?" Then he slowed, face turning into a deep and upset frown. "Do you not think I love you? I admit I've been rather caught up in other things- but just the other day we went on that date to the Human Museum."

You shuddered at the memory. He'd meant well, of course, but seeing preserved bodies detailing your species' entire evolutionary growth was not something you'd planned on ever seeing.

"You don't touch me anymore," you replied self-consciously, casting thoughts of the museum aside. The Doctor's frown deepened as he thought back on it. Realising you were right, he came to stand in front of you. Softly, he took both your hands in his, stopping your anxious fidgeting.

"My dear, I had no idea physical affection was so important to you," he said apologetically. The genuine regret in his expression made you feel a little better at least. "I'll make an effort to be more affectionate, yes?"

You replied with a smile, soft and agreeable. The Doctor squeezed your hands and pulled you into a hug. It was a little awkward at first. You'd only hugged him perhaps twice before and you'd spent so long yearning for it that now you finally had it- you didn't quite know what to do.

And then his arms tightened ever so slightly around you, and you melted into him, wrapping yourself close. Gods, it felt good.

"Better?" He asked, nuzzling your neck, voice muffled by your skin.

"Better," you confirmed.

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anteroom-of-death · 3 months

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Teacher's Pet part 1

Synopsis: The Doctor notices a student. She notices him.

a/n: thank u to the moots for sticking with me. Yall are the best. This is going to be a series. Somewhat of a dark!doctor ish fic maybe. I haven't planned this far. I have ideas. Will switch between a 3rd party but doctor centric POV and a 2nd party student centric POV.

The sun drew itself in on the cold day, light filtering through large windows in the lecture hall. It caught and reflected the motes of light swirling around. First day of the Spring term. Lots of new students trickled in and found their respective seats. Of course, the syllabus was now online and such. But the Doctor still preferred to give a paper one. He felt it helped students focus if they had it real and tangible…unable to forget.

Just like he forgot so much. A lingering pain….

He started up his usual dazzling spiel. Enough to keep them from dropping out, but not enough to rile them to madness. He learned that lesson early on in this particular charade he was distracting himself with. All he had to really do was keep Missy in the Vault and attempt to rehabilitate her. Humans were such a delicate group to keep balanced. Too much stimulation and they would self destruct. Not enough? The same but in a reverse spiral.

Or just fall asleep.

He preferred it if a few actually did fall asleep.

Allowed him to build a reputation as a teacher. Keep the act up.

He didn’t notice the young woman intently staring, writing down the key phrases from his opening statements. He was enraptured in the normal routine he has become familiar with.

The hour came to a close, and he did a bow. He was to visit Missy again some time soon. Just a cursory check. See if she’d calmed down from her last temper tantrum, where she demanded a saxophone and stated that Billy Clinton was also a war criminal, but made some sweet jazz.

He could hardly agree. She already was a mediocre piano player. And the drum set she demanded earlier lay in tatters in her cupboard.

Being her keeper and therapist was rotten work, but it warmed him. Gave him a gram of hope that she may get better and he may have his friend back once more.

Though, he knew in both is hearts, hope could be a fragile thing for a man to hold onto.

But, especially in this body, he believed in redemption and change. They both had forever to change. They had forever.

A few weeks had passed, and he noticed that keen eyes were burning the back of his neck as he scrawled on the chalkboard. It felt different than the usual glazed-over focus of people trying to write or type out his valid points. It was hot and felt more personal. Less trying to pass a class.

He paused his sentence and raked his eyes over. It was a student with large gold hoops and a few tangled gold necklaces. The Doctor recognized two or three of the symbols used on some of them from his travels through Earth’s history. She was chewing hard on her pen. He could see flecks of her tinted chap stick clinging onto the sides of it. Her eyes were squinted slightly and a slight patch of blush rested on her checks. He couldn’t tell if it was a make up look or some feverish feature of her human body. Perhaps she was in the first phases of getting sick!

He went back to his lecture. Some misfocused student was the least of his concern.

But he still felt her eyes bore into him. Intent on something. He trudged on.

He came to a close, reminded everyone of their upcoming projects and let the day start to rest. The Doctor announced that his office hours were changing to represent the spring coming soon and to “Allow you all to feel the sun on your faces, you don’t know how long you’ll have. Humans usually only live once!”

He scanned the audience and saw her shoving her notebook and that well-gnawed on pen into her bag. Big purse with a rhinestone buckle. Resembled something that Rose or Jackie would have had, he mused.

She slung that and a tote bag that seemed overstuffed and ripe for the breaking over her shoulder. She audibly groaned under the weight. He pitied her. The stressed look she had on her face was oddly enchanting in the light just starting to sink.

He knew she was struggling in the class. She did good work, yes. When he opened up questions and debate, she usually had such pointed takes that verged on mind-racing. Sometimes others would bristle against what she said on the more provocative topics he offered up. Essays and tests? Not so much. She floundered.

She had accommodations for some diagnosis or whatever. He could tell her mind was making connections in a far more tangential way than the other’s either couldn’t or wouldn’t make. And for that he did like her. Enjoyed what she brought to the table. Although, even his brains had difficulty making some of the leaps her brain did.

But why was she staring at him like that today? It was almost reverent. Very off putting.

She came forward to his desk and clicked open her notes app .

“Erm…Professor.” She cleared her throat and started up. “Uh, I was wondering if I could see you sooner rather than later. For office hours. I’m sorry for my late essay last week. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I can’t focus and I feel like I’m losing my mind half the time lately. May I have some insight or whatever you want on how I could do better. I know I’m doing…like, so bad.” She confessed and exhaled on the final note of her punctuation.

She turned a new type of stare towards him. Less intense and personal and more of a thousand-yard death grip.

Her entire demeanor in this moment was very lamb like. A confused air of innocent need to do well, to pass her classes, clouded her.

A weaker man would have felt more predatory, he noted.

She wasn’t unattractive for a human, not like past companions he worshiped the ground of. Of course. He was drawn to them for their natures, often ignoring their faces wholesale.

She started to chew and rip at her pinky nail and lower lip simultaneously…

“Of course,” He said. “I have to go help a friend with something, so I have to talk and walk.”

She nodded eagerly and gave such an appreciative smile. “Thanks!” The words came out so quickly, almost breathlessly.

She trotted along side him.

Once outside, they started discussing her options. She had to work nights, she stated, she said so they were arranging a time to work in a little extra help and tutoring.

He genuinely enjoyed her company and led her to a bench.

“What about your friend?” She asked.

“Oh, Nardole can handle himself.” He smiled. “He’ll not miss me for an extra four or five minutes.”

She laughed a bit.

She plunged her hand into her purse and started rifling around. It was a chaotic sight.

She produced a pack of cigarettes and a tiny green plastic lighter.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to quit, but it’s been hell lately.” She grimaced.

He shook his head, no, he didn’t mind. It wouldn’t affect him. Her, yes. But one little luxury, especially if she was trying to quit.

“So long as it’s your last for a while.” He took the teacherly route.

She lit up and took a huge drag. Closing her eyes he noticed that deep look of exhaustion had given her dark purple and almost black under eye circles. She had apparently tried to cover them up with some make up products and some mascara and smudged eyeliner. She held that breath in for a few seconds. It was almost beautiful.

She exhaled and fluttered them open. The smoke wisped and flew away quickly in the gentle breeze.

“Yeah, thanks. People get so weird about smoking. But they’ll vape? Like, indoors. All the time.” She rolled her eyes at that mildly hypocrisy.

They planned for her to meet up with him in his office on Monday just before the lunch hour. Then turned the conversation to some topics in debate that another student, a male who irked her with his constant urge to play Devil’s Advocate. She had some very often-overlooked viewpoints and a very bizarre way of describing things. It was enchanting.

“Thanks.” She ignored a boundary and squeezed his hand. He felt a holy jolt of electricity go up his arm from the small touch. “I gotta go…you’ve got a friend. Works been slow and I have some…appointments. So I have to make sure I’m perfect.” She elaborated with an almost tic-like shake of her head.

“Yes, my friend is probably going insane dealing with our little issue.” He responded in kind. Missy had probably caused Nardole to melt down or malfunction.

He watched her leave towards the bus stop. Her bags hitting her back as she rushed. Her coat barely covering her bottom and the belt caught in the hem of it. He felt himself feeling almost physically unable to leave the bench. Something tugging at his gut was preventing him from doing so. It felt akin to what River and Clara evoked in him but different.

River and Clara were strong and capable, avant-garde. Self-confident. Cocky. But this student was seemingly the inverse. Very vulnerable and nervous to the point of a near imperceptible, even to him with his keen Time Lord senses, shake and a heart that was audibly racing in its cage. Coupled with her addiction to cigarettes and minor tendency towards self mutilation via near-constant picking and chewing…

Something dark, but heartwarming rushed through his core and took root.

He felt himself deeply looking forward to Monday.

#personal #12th doctor #peter capaldi #12th doctor x reader #self insert #doctor who fanfiction #i wrote this #pov fanfiction #student teacher #daddy issues #like my god #doctor who #the doctor #12th dr #reader x 12th doctor #yeeet #get in loser were writing indulgent fics because we've lost control of reality and our lives

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ramen-flavored · 8 months

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You know the episode of Doctor Who, The Lie Of The Land (S10 E8), when Bill was sacrificing herself to stop the monks and the Doctor was tied up, do you think he was having flashback to The Library (S4 E8-9) and watching River die????

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blogurlnotfoundwhoops · 6 days

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never would've thought my first doctor who fic would be 12 😭😭 ofc i love him but ive only read a handful of fics for him. it just felt right. i was originally planning to write 11, but what i was writing was wanting 12. and i honestly think i did a great job writing it.

(check it out if you haven't :p)

also, how do i grow a community on here? i want people to see my posts, but idk how. pls help if you can 🫶🏻

#doctor who #the doctor #12th doctor #twelfth doctor #x reader #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #peter capaldi #petercapaldi #doctorwho #drwho #dr who #doctor who 12 #12 x reader #12 doctor x reader #12 doctor #12th doctor x reader

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kinglivv · 1 year

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Seventy Years

Missy x Reader

Summary: Missy and the reader used to run together, wreaking havoc across the universe. But since Missy’s entrapment in the vault, they haven’t had an ounce of contact…

Warnings: Swearing, generally threatening behaviour from both parties

A/N: I haven’t posted a fic in a year and half, but today I sat down and forced myself to write after Missy popped up in a dream of mine very briefly. I’m not sure if there’s still even an audience for it, and my writing skills are a bit rusty as well as my Doctor Who knowledge. Enjoy!

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

This was bad.

You grab the TARDIS leaver for what must be the hundredth time and slam it down to no avail. The ship creaks slightly, but as you desperately press buttons and turn knobs, it doesn’t budge. Why, why, why had you never got the Doctor to teach you how to fly it properly?

Catching your breath, you slump against the console, it’s edge digging into your lower back as you stare at the wall blankly, racking your brain for a solution. Psychic link? No - you hadn’t done that in years and you weren’t in the mood for a migraine. Search for a manual? No - you’d spend days just searching for it. Ask the ship nicely? Definitely no - she was a bitch.

There was simply no one but the Doctor who knew how to fly the TARDIS, and when the Doctor was stranded on another planet in another time zone, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do to get back to him.

And then another idea spawns. It makes your guts twist and your stomach crawl and you grit your teeth. You were smart, even for a human, and you knew there was really no other solution.

—-

“Missy?”

There’s silence from the other side of the door and you almost turn back. This is a bad idea.

“Missy?”

“This is an unusual place to find you, dear,”

The Glasgow accent cuts through tension like an ice pick, so clear, crisp and steady, just as it’s always been. You swallow.

“I need your help.”

More silence. And then the voice is right there on the other side, so close.

“Ah. Should have known you’d only come down here if you wanted something.”

“The Doctor’s on Mars,” you power on, squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you’re speaking to anyone but her, “sometime in the 1800s. There’s Ice Warriors and Victorians, and I was in the TARDIS and it just - it just dematerialised and it won’t go back to him. I don’t know what to do.”

There’s a pause as she contemplates your predicament. You haven’t uttered the question, but she knows exactly what you’re asking.

“Have taken any readings?” She finally asks.

“Yes,” a hurried hand pulls out the piece of paper you’d scrawled over, “Eye of harmony’s at 260 degrees Celsius. Oils at 350. Pressure’s at 7.”

“Good girl,” you can hear a smile in her voice and your cheeks flare up.

“So do you know what’s wrong with it?” You almost snap.

“You’re not gonna be able to fix it, I’ll tell you that much,”

“So what do I do?”

“You let me out.”

—

The vault doors open with a hiss and there she stands, silhouetted in the dim blue light and cutting the most dashing figure. There’s a tap tap tap of her heels as she approaches you, a smug smile on her face. She’s changed since you last saw her, maybe seventy years ago now. Her make-up’s softer, her hair less tamed, and her smile is somewhat half hearted. The mania’s still there though, in the whites of her eyes and down the line of her cheek bone.

She reaches you and takes a brief glance around the hallway. It’s the most she’s seen of Bristol since her entrapment in the vault. And then there’s a click and she looks down in time to see a handcuff slotting around her wrist. The other side is on yours. She looks to your other hand and sees a… pencil and she grins. She’d taught you decades ago just how easy it was to kill a Timelord with even the smallest of sharp objects - just one nip at the back of the neck and they’re forced into their next regeneration. The sight of it in your hand makes her heart flutter and her stomach sink.

“I see how it is,” she fakes the bravado and you see right through it.

Without a word, you give the chain a yank and she follows you silently.

—-

“No funny business,” you instruct her as you approach the TARDIS console, although you know it’s a useless sentiment. She could pull the leaver and shove you into a black hole within seconds if she so pleased. But she’d allowed you the luxury of obediently walking up to the Doctor’s office without so much as a word, save for the moment when she’d grabbed your hand as someone passed by you in an effort to hide the handcuffs. Your heart had caught in your throat and you’d hoped she couldn’t feel it hammering away.

Now, stood in the TARDIS, she looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“As if I’d ever!” She mocks offense. “Mars 1810, you said?”

“Yes,” you reply, and your arm is forced to move with her as she reaches for different buttons. You’re uncomfortably close. “Coordinates 29487 by 74,” you say unprompted when her hands hover over the keyboard expectantly, and it makes your stomach twist with how easily you fall back into this routine after seventy years of virtually no contact. Memories surface of you decades ago, pressed up against her as you whisper all the places you wanted her to take you.

She types in the coordinates and twists a vast variation of knobs and presses buttons you’d never had thought needed pressing. Just before she pulls the leaver, you say “Wait.” and pull the monitor over, double checking she’s taking you exactly where she’s promised. You neglect to notice how she’s looking at you.

“You really don’t believe I’ve changed,” her shoulders have slumped slightly and you glance at her.

“Is that supposed to make me feel something?” you say passively, attention shifting back to the monitor.

Missy’s jaw clenches.

“Seventy years,” she states.

“Seventy years is nothing compared to the hundreds you’ve spent wreacking havoc.”

“I seem to remember you were present for quite a bit of that,” she retorts, “you could have visited me at any point. I know you’ve been living in Bristol,l.”

You ignore the thinly veiled accusation and scroll through the monitor. She was right though. You’d been here this whole time, posing as a student (you’d acquired almost thirty degrees in your decades spent here with the Doctor) and living a normal human life, avoiding the Mistress and waiting for her to change.

And then she yanks the cuffs and you’re dragged into her with an “oof!”

“You know what I think it is,” she hisses, “I think you like to pretend we’re different, like those years we spent together didn’t happen.”

“Missy, stop!” You struggle against her but she holds you fast.

“Does it never occur to you that I might be trying? And that your ignoring me for seventy years might be having a detrimental impact on that?“

“I wanted to know if you’re serious about this,” you snap back, the threat leaking into your voice and there you are, she almost wants to smile with glee. You were never really scared, least of all of her and you still had that bite in you. “Me and you are no good for each other if you’re really going cold turkey from being bad. Civilisations have burned because we’ve egged each other on, and the fact is that you can’t get better when I’m in the picture. Not when you could persuade me to break you out, or teach me how to force the Doctor into his next regeneration. We’re not good for each other and that’s a well known fact - I’ve not been avoiding you, I’ve been waiting.”

Missy’s face softens in surprise and you wonder if maybe you’ve gone to far. Maybe she’ll really sling you into a black hole now. Her mouth opens but before she can say anything, you’ve snapped off the cuffs and yanked the lever down. The TARDIS wheezes and you storm off to stand at the doors and wait whilst she’s left to pilot to a safe position on Mars.

—

You’re in trouble with the Doctor, you’re well aware. You’d apologised profusely when he’d stepped on board and his ever expressive eyebrows had knotted so deeply in her direction. There was a silence as he’d quickly dropped a shaking Bill home, and now he’d stepped out to drop Nardole off in his office - they had been out there a while and where presumably having an argument about the current predicament.

Missy however, sits unbothered by it all, tucked into a little alcove off one of the upper walkways circling the console room. She’s reading a book on TARDIS maintenance.

She glances up when you sit down opposite in the alcove.

“You’re right,” you announce, “and I’m sorry.”

Usually she’d retort with an “I’m always right!”, but today she just watches you, waiting, her cheekbones hollow in the soft light of the TARDIS, her eyes so blue. It occurs to you that you haven’t really seen her in a long time. Sure, the Doctor had occasionally showed you a photo of her, updated you on her progress, but this is the first time you’d really looked at her since you’d gone cold turkey from your friendship.

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited you,” you say, “and I should have. I guess I’ve just been… scared. And after I went so long without seeing you it was just easier to pretend none of it never happened.”

She nods, gaze shifting to the pillar in the centre of the TARDIS. “I am trying,” she confesses, “some days are better than others, but in whole… I think I really am trying,”

“I know you are.”

You lean over and press a kiss to her lips. A proper one, and it strikes you how familiar it is, how easily you fall back into your old pattern. You’re made for each other really, in body, mind and soul and you hold her jaw as she kisses back eagerly, not daring to move her hands from her book, frozen in the moment.

And then the door swings open - the Doctor’s definitely seen it, and the Doctor’s definitely not happy, but you turn away from Missy and push past him. A new chapter seems to be beginning.

(Will add my old taglist when i can find it)

#doctor who #the master #missy x reader #missy #gomez!master #michelle gomez #madam satan #the twelfth doctor #nardole #bill potts #peter capaldi #gender neutral reader #reader insert #doctor who fic #the vault #empress of mars #ice warriors

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blogurlnotfound · 5 days

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Drumming - Doctor Who x Reader

hiii this is my first fic in about 4 years probably :) this is obviously a new account, so yeah that's why there's nothing else here. um anyways, i definitely got incredibly carried away with this, did not have an idea going into it (still think it ended up great), 12 is probably out of character, and i somehow wrote it in under 3 hours??

anyway, I hope it's enjoyable! and please let me know your thoughts :)

12th Doctor x Reader

(really student/professor but can be romantic or platonic, whatever vibes you catch.)

Word Count: 2,600+

Summary: You have been hearing a drumming in your head. One, two, three, four. It's been affecting your mental state, and you haven't been to class in a while. Maybe your professor, The Doctor, is able to help figure this out?

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts. any gender reader, but makeup mentioned.

A drumming had been haunting you for months as you slept.

One, two, three, four.

It would sound non-stop until you couldn't bear it any longer, and woke up. Every time you would wake up the same: in a cold sweat, panting, with tear streaks running down your face.

Each day the drumming's effect on you grew. It was affecting your mental state immensely. You felt a deep pain and sadness hanging over you like a cloud most days. You wouldn't be able to get out of bed, much less go to classes. You weren't hungry often, and couldn't eat when you were. You avoided your friends and your schoolwork, occasionally texting your parents to keep them from worrying.

You weren't sure if your professors noticed your absences. They hadn't reached out to you in any way. It's not like they'd notice you in the sea of students. They must see hundreds a day anyways.

It's not like anybody would notice you anyway. At least that's what the drumming would whisper to you.

One, two, three, four.

You keep to yourself. Don't have any close friends in your classes, and not many close friends at school in general. Nobody really knew who you were. Your favorite color. Childhood pets. How long it takes you to sleep. How often you're awoken by the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

Nobody would notice if you're gone.

One, two, three, four.

They don't even notice when you're there.

One, two, three, four.

-+-

You wake up. In a cold sweat. Panting. You reach both your hands to your face and rub your palms on your cheeks. Tears were cleared from your face and now sat on your hands. You sit up and release a heavy sigh. It's like the sigh has been waiting to escape all night. Like your body was relieved to be released from the nightmare drumming.

You decide to get out of bed, an easier decision than previous day's had been. You stretch your limbs and yawn. You walk to the bathroom and face your reflection. Today was going to be okay.

Or will it be.

One, two, three, four.

"It will be. Today will be okay." You affirmed to yourself in the mirror. You let out another sigh, smiled at yourself softly, and began your morning routine.

You do your make-up while watching a video. You found that taking the time to do your make-up gave you time to relax, breathe, and be yourself. You felt better about your days when you take this extra time to yourself in the morning. So, whenever you manage to get out of bed, you try to manage doing make-up too.

The video you watched was just of some guy unnecessarily analyzing a TV show you liked. He went into extreme detail about small details from the show and created theories about why certain things happened and what might happen next. You enjoyed his content. He reminded you of one of your professors.

He was a very kind old man who you can tell cares deeply about everything he talks about. He has a Scottish accent that somehow grows stronger with excitement. He's enthusiastic and rambles, and never really has a set course of taking points. He just lets his mind and his heart lead him. Saying whatever he finds most awestrucking and veering off topic drastically. In fact, you weren't really sure what the class was meant to be about.

The course description when signing up simply said, "Discussion-based class, humanities topics." The syllabus was no extra help, practically said the same thing with all the extra school required information listed. But it fulfilled your humanities credit, and the first day was interesting enough, so you stayed in the class.

Thinking about the professor, The Doctor, just The Doctor, made you want to go to his class. You checked the time on your phone. It did start in a little over two hours. You finished getting ready and then waited.

You waited maybe fifteen minutes before getting bored. You quickly put your bag together and walked out your door, then your building, into the outside would. It had been at least thirty-two hours since you were last outside. The air felt cool against your skin, reviving your senses and making you softly smile to yourself. You could hear the wind rustle the branches of nearby trees that swayed. Somehow, these trees looked the same as ever, and more beautiful than ever.

You turn around in a full circle and take in the Earth around you. She really is beautiful. You don't sit with her enough.

With new energy in your body, the dark cloud caused by the drumming smaller than ever, you walk around your campus mindlessly. Every step you take grounds you to the Earth, reminding you that the drumming can't be real.

One, two, three, four.

It isn't real.

-+-

You take a seat in the auditorium where The Doctor's class is held. You gently place your bag on the floor next to you and wait as the seats pile up. Five minutes later the room is almost full, and the tall man with short grey hair walks in, greeting the class with a Scottish, "Hello!" as he places his bag down and immediately starts writing on the chalkboard.

"Music." is written on the board. He swiftly turns around on his heel. He stops and makes direct eye contact with you. He stares for a moment, a twinkle in his eye. He diverts his attention from you and begins speaking,

"So," he clasps his hands, "who wants to tell me the importance of music to humanity?"

Hands shoot up all around you. You had been missing a fun class.

-+-

The class ends and you have a beaming smile on your face. You hadn't realized truly how fun and entrancing The Doctor was. Every student was hooked on his every word, waiting for what insane piece of information would come flying out of his mouth next. Every student including you.

The class was packing their bags and leaving around you. You heard groups starting to chat. Friends laughing loudly.

You don't have friends like that here. Your smile falls.

One, two, three, four.

A tap on the wooden desk in front of you wakes you from your thoughts, a Scottish voice accompanying it, "Are you okay, y/n? I noticed you haven't been to class in a while."

You looked up at The Doctor, no doubt admiration for him and sadness from your thoughts filling your eyes. He could read your eyes. He could read the pain and the sadness. He's felt it before.

"You noticed?" You stifled out.

"Of course I noticed." His face softened, "All of my students are important to me."

"But there's so many of us?"

"So?"

You didn't have a response to that. You suppose he was right. You just looked down at your bag, grabbed it, and started to stand up.

"Would you like to come into my office?"

You looked at him, confused and shocked.

"Just for lunch and to discuss whatever is going on. If you'd like." You look at him, still confused. Your head cocks slightly to one side, and your mouth begins to open, but The Doctor beats you to it, "I lost a student not too long ago. Her name was Bill. Bill Potts. I miss her a lot, you see, she was more than just my student. She was also my friend. She made me better. I can see her in you, and I would hate to... " He pauses, "I'm just worried about how many classes you've missed. You may not be able to pass my course."

You're really confused now. The gears are turning in your head, processing his confession of loss turned into you not passing the class. The Doctor can see the gears turning on your face, in the way your eyebrows scrunch intensely and your pupils move back and forth. You close your eyes, relax your face, and look at him with a smile.

"I would like to go to your office, yeah. Thank you." Your eyes are sincere, and when you meet his, so are they.

You follow him a short ways through campus to his office. His steps and your steps opposite. Like the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

You try to ignore it. You try really hard but can't. You stop walking, and the drumming stops. You sigh in relief, The Doctor looks back at you with concern.

"Sorry," you say, catching up to him with a smile, "I thought I saw something."

"Like what?" He asks, curiosity filling his face.

"Oh, nothing." You weren't expecting him to ask. You didn't know what to say.

He hums in response, picking up pace until you're at his office. It's a huge room with a desk in the middle, you take a seat on one side of it while The Doctor sits opposite. He has many picture frames on his desk, and a mysterious blue police box in the corner you can't take your eyes off.

One, two, three, four.

"What's that?" you ask, pointing at the box before you can help yourself.

"A police box. It's from London in the 60's. I'm a bit of a collector of sorts."

He had this lie down pat. But you could tell he wasn't being truthful, you didn't know how, but you knew. You didn't press on about the box. You just nodded and smiled, "That's cool."

He nodded too. "Let's talk about why you've been missing class. Is everything okay back home? Anything I can do to help?"

One, two, three, four.

Something compelled you to be honest with him. Again, you didn't know what. He felt familiar. Of course you've known him the whole semester, but it felt more than that. You feel safe. You feel seen. You feel known. You knew when he lied to you just a second ago, but why?

One, two, three, four.

"Can I be honest?" you make eye contact with him, "Like, you won't lock me up in the looney bin for being crazy?" He's about to say something but you interrupt him, "And won't get me kicked out of the school or, or, I don't know, send me off to get government testing?"

He's confused now. But curious too. You can tell he's interested in what you're saying, he wants to know more. It doesn't feel like he's going to judge you. "Yes, you can be honest. You can trust me."

"Promise?" You hold out your pinky. Sure it's silly, but silly makes it more meaningful, more powerful, somehow.

He chuckles and interlocks your pinkies, "Promise."

"Okay." You stop to think.

One, two, three, four.

"So I have this noise in my head."

One, two, three, four.

"It's like drumming. One, two, three, four."

One, two, three, four.

The Doctor stiffens. "And it won't stop, Doctor." you continue. "And it's like it's affecting my thoughts. They're all negative and I'm depressed and it hurts. It really hurts, Doctor." Tears are streaming down your face. You weren't even aware talking about this would make you cry. And you didn't know why you told The Doctor about it.

After a moment of thinking, The Doctor moves from his chair and towards you. His movements are stiff. As if he's nervous. He knows something you don't. He leans down and wraps his arms around you, your head at his chest. You cry harder, and he pulls you closer in comfort.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming was louder than ever. In your head and in your ears. It's not scary anymore though. You move your head away from The Doctor to release you from the hug. The drumming stops. You reach out to his chest without asking, without thinking.

On your hand you feel two heartbeats.

One, two, three, four.

You put your other hand to your own heart. Only one heartbeat. One, two.

Why did he have two heartbeats. One, two, three, four. Why was his the drumming.

"Why-" you start, but need to close your eyes and breathe, "Why does your heart sound like the drumming. Why do you have two heartbeats?"

"Follow me." He walked to the blue police box, opened the door and went inside. You sat there for a moment stunned. Then you cleared your face from your tears and got up. You made your way towards the box, looking at the door before walking inside.

You looked around in amazement. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your face broke out into a huge grin. You ran outside and back inside. "This defies all laws of physics! How is it-? It's?" You looked at him expectantly.

"C'mon, I know you want to say it." He had an equally bright, shit-eating grin.

"It's bigger on the inside!"

He laughed with his whole chest and body. His laugh was contagious.

"This," he gestures around the room, "is my T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. And I'm a Time-Lord from the planet Gallifrey. We have two hearts, hence the two heartbeats."

You look at him; confusion, amazement, admiration and more displayed on your face.

"Now I don't know why you're hearing my species' heartbeats in your head, but I'm going to figure it out." He looks at you and smiles, you can't help but smile back, "If you want to come with me?"

"With you where?" you ask.

"Anywhere! In the whole wide universe. Not really sure where to start to help you though. Or when for that matter?"

You've never been so confused so many times in the span of one day. "But I have other classes? And don't you too?" Something clicks in your brain, "And what about my parents? And I barely know you! No offense, Doctor. I can't go traveling with someone I don't know."

"If anyone can help you, y/n, it's me. There might not be anyone else in the whole universe." You look at him, desperate now after hearing his words. "And as for your other classes and your family- TARDIS, t," he said, dragging out the sound, "stands for time. She's a time machine. Can take you right back to this moment." He smiled confidently, and made his way towards the center of the room where some sort of console was. He puts his hands on a lever, and looks at you again.

"What?" You asked, awestruck.

"Let me show you." Mischief flashes across his face, but you can tell it's more childlike than malicious. Which is odd for a man who is likely in his sixties.

A whirring sound comes from the center. The door slams shut and the lights start fluctuating. You find it hard to steady yourself as the floor becomes unstable.

"Grab onto something!" The Doctor yells. You do, a railing a few feet away. You grab on tight and try to stand up right. The Doctor is laughing with joy.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming in your head is drowned out by the TARDIS whirring. The whirring sound would soon become a new comfort. And the TARDIS a new home. And The Doctor, he would soon become the most special and fantastic person in your life.

You knew today was going to be a good day. And there are thousands more to come. Thousands more with The Doctor.

He was going to stop the drumming in your head, no matter what he had to do.

#someone help idk how to tag fic #doctor who #the doctor #12th doctor #twelfth doctor #x reader #doctor who x reader #peter capaldi #petercapaldi #doctorwho #drwho #dr who #12 x reader #12th doctor x reader #doctor who 12 #12 doctor #bbc doctor who #12 doctor x reader

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bloody-slutty-pathetic · 1 year

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When he’s a scary, handsome, genius from space >>

#doctor who #twelth doctor #peter capaldi #twelth doctor x reader

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kon1fer · 1 year

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Y’all I swear be nice this is my first one…

Twelfth Doctor x reader

12th Doctor x F!reader

~ 700 words

Warning: nothing else than fluff 💕

Wrote that at 4am ⚰️

As I said this is my first fanfic and my first language isn’t English so yyyyeeeeaaaahhhahsh

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Why?”

“Thank you for the day. It was amazing, one of the most amazing day in my human lifetime.”

“Because you have an alien lifetime?”

“Possibly. I wish so.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did, honestly.”

She looked at him, dangerously sinking into his eyes.

“What are you eyes made of?”

He didn’t really wondered why she asked him that.

“Probably star dust, like yours.”

“I assume that this stardust was from a beautiful blue nebulae.”

There was a barely visible blush that landed on his cheeks.

“Why are you doing this to me.”

She looked down.

“I want you to like me so you take me again for the cool space trips,” she said, totally honest.

She looked away, trying to not feel his eyes on her before talking again:

“You are so mysterious. I like that about you, you know?”

He stepped a little closer.

“What is so mysterious about me?”

She looked up at his face and searched with her eyes.

“Everything about you is strangely beautiful. But the hair are helping a lot.”

He slightly grinned.

“Are they?”

“Yes, they look like they’re kind of space magic. Magic hair for the outer space man.”

All of a sudden, she noticed that her heart was almost beating out of her chest. Must have been the peacefulness that the Doctor emanated that kept her unaware of everything else.

He seemed to be so above all this, like if he could control the situation; yet he let it slowly stream, and she felt like he wouldn’t say a word of what he thought. Because both of them were intensely hiding, all their lives, what their hearts language could say, but that only their eyes could really share.

He slowly reached for her hand, letting her the chance to step back. His were cold and she felt a shiver quietly breezing every atoms of her body.

“It’s 4 in the morning and you’re getting sleepy. You don’t mean what you say”, he breathed.

It’s true. She has the unfortunate tendency to act and feel drunk when she’s tired. But that couldn’t really interfere with her emotions, either then making them feel duplicated, but she always handled it.

“I know. I’d say yes at everything you’d ask me for. That’s concerning.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“It is.”

She decided that she’d look up into his eyes until he’d look away.

“But I like it.”

But he didn’t even flinch or not even close to, and she was about to give up when he gently stepped closer and cupped her cheek in his hand, his cold fingers on her warm skin like snowflakes.

“You do?”

The few inches gap between their faces was painful, and it was impossible to tell what he was doing. He was the orchestra director, and she was waiting for his next move to know what to do.

Her eyelids closed.

The time stopped when their lips connected.

He softly placed his other hand on her waist like he didn’t wanted her to go, and his other hand was holding her face like if she was made of glass.

Her heart was fluttering more than ever, but she was only focused on the body gap closing between them as he grabbed her waist. Their lips parted slightly, and she could feel his two hearts, also beating fast and unsynchronized.

“Why are you doing this to me,” he repeated in the kiss.

She got on her tip toes and put her arms around his neck and one hand in his hair (finally, she waited so long), and they were softer than she had thought.

This could have lasted forever, but he felt that she was getting out of breath and quietly pulled away.

They heavily breathed, enlaced, sharing each other’s the body warmth.

She kissed the time lord. She was in love with the serious, frowning man who looked so sad sometimes.

He kissed the earth girl. He felt his hearts melting for her, even if he tried to escape this fate.

She didn’t talk, she just embraced him and placed her head in the crook of his neck.

“You have such cold hands”

#doctor who #peter capaldi #12th doctor #twelfth doctor #twelfth doctor x reader #dw fanfic #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #dw

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lexilee15 · 8 months

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Just some Doctor Who one shots I've written. It's all platonic and fluff...no smut👀.

I think you'd like this story: "Doctor Who One Shots" by _lexi_k_lee on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/337454458?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=_lexi_k_lee&wp_originator=bpnfvyvXS6pDxsQooUbj6HX6%2BTPwEmdCpXLNl9Dp1BpQG3OaeIt1UhC3jwZhMEqXNwjuLIfqQoRNOOMzzpXZLdgC5tIfHpt3dGWkdu4DN0mOG8CE6h9kDbyEXho0eF1w

#doctor who #fanfic #bbc dr who #david tennant #matt smith #doctor x reader #the doctor #tardis #doctor who fanfiction #oneshot #11th doctor #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #peter capaldi #y/n

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hauntingcryptids · 1 year

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Speaking Up For Your Needs

Capaldi!Doctor x Reader

Summary - The Reader is having a bad day where they are feeling incredibly touch starved, but then The Doctor decides to teach The Reader how to fly The TARDIS.

Based On This Request -

Warnings - Themes of depression and loneliness

Word Count - 1510

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. I had a second idea from this request. So, I just wanted to post it because I thought it was cute!

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

Your body hurt and your skin felt like it was burning. You desperately wanted to reach out and hold someone’s hand, hug them, and rest against their shoulder after a tough day, but you could never bring yourself to ask for that kind of comfort. This happened a lot in your life; you remember feeling this way since you were a child. Whenever you had gone months without touch you would become like this. Just a mix of want and anxiety.

Your parents had instilled a toxic ideology in you from a young age: overly touchy people are annoying, and you mustn’t trouble people with physical affection. Even when you grew up and left your parent’s home, you never braved showing physical affection to your friends or partners. You were too scared of scaring them away because of everything your parents had told you. But it seemed that the more reserved you stayed in those relationships, the more they pulled away from you. And after a while, you would end up alone again.

You began travelling with The Doctor almost a year ago. He had asked you to travel with him after months of the two of you accidentally meeting in random places. The Doctor had said at the time that the main reason as to why he asked you to travel with him was because he could sense that you were lonely. You didn’t understand what he meant by that until now. You were in so much denial about how lonely and touch-starved you were. Now, though, you understood. You wanted to reach out to The Doctor about your needs, but you didn’t know how.

You had seen how The Doctor interacted on adventures after saving people. Some would offer him handshakes and pats on the back and hugs, and he would either skirt away from them or his body would tense uncomfortably. You never wanted to make him feel that way. But he offered you so much emotional, financial, and just general support in so many ways, yet all you needed right now was a hug. Because of all the help he offered you in other ways, would The Doctor actually be willing to show you physical affection?

Today was a quiet day in the TARDIS. That almost made what you were feeling worse. On loud days, you could ignore your needs and just focus on the adventure and helping people that were in trouble.

“Now, given that you have been in the TARDIS for a while…” The Doctor announced as soon as he entered The TARDIS console with a couple of books in his arms. He had asked you to meet him there once you were ready for the day.

“I think that you should learn how to fly her.”

“What?!” You jumped up from your seat in shock.

“I’m not ready for that, Doctor!”

“Of course you are. Aren’t they, old girl?” The Doctor patted the console of the ship after setting the books down. The TARDIS then beeped reassuringly in agreement with The Doctor’s comment.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt her or get the two of us into some sort of trouble.”

“Don’t worry. I will be here to guide you and The TARDIS will put extra protections on everything so we don’t punch a hole in the fabric of reality.”

“Can that happen?” You asked frantically as a new wave of panic rushed through you.

“No! Just joking around with you.” You nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, but then when you looked at The Doctor again, he was grinning like a maniac.

“Are you lying?”

“Of course!”

“Doctor!”

“Just come on, come on, come on! You’re ready and you know it!” The Doctor made a rapid circular hand movement in the air before he pulled you toward The TARDIS console. You ended up slumping beside him as he began to describe the functions of his ship.

The Doctor first explained every button and lever and random alien spinning device before you. He was being incredibly considerate in helping you understand something so incredibly inhuman, which surprised you. The Doctor, especially in this regeneration, didn’t have the most patient attitude.

You did well in remembering all of the parts of the console, but actually flying the time and space machine proved to be very difficult for you. Again, though, The Doctor was very encouraging, but nothing you tried led you to successfully flying The TARDIS.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” You ended up whining after another failed try at piloting the alien ship.

“Yes, you can! You just got to give it some welly!”

The Doctor, almost out of nowhere, moved behind you and placed his hands on the console on either side of you. You instantly froze. The Doctor was still talking, encouraging you about your abilities and reminding you of some of the buttons and levers. You could barely concentrate, though. You could feel the heat of The Doctor’s body radiating off of him and into your back. He was so close to holding you that you almost couldn’t believe that this was really happening. Eventually, you had to take a deep breath in order to contain yourself from developing into a full daydream.

The Doctor stayed behind you and muttered encouraging statements as you attempted to pilot his ship again. It was difficult, of course, but you felt different this time. For some reason, with The Doctor so close to you and his words in your ear, you finally managed to fly The TARDIS.

“I did it!” You exclaimed excitedly.

“Of course you did! I knew that you could.”

You sighed and tried to release some of the tension that had built up in your body since The Doctor surrounded you with his body. You could hear that The Doctor was continuing to congratulate you, but you didn’t know how to respond to his comments, so you just hid your head and nodded.

Tentatively, The Doctor placed his hands on your upper arms and sighed heavily in thought before speaking. You froze again upon feeling The Doctor’s boney yet firm hands on your body. You didn’t know what to think of everything that occurred that morning. But eventually, The Doctor spoke and did his best to relieve any anxiety that you might have.

“I know that you're lonely. I told you so when I first invited you to travel with me …” The Doctor paused before continuing.

“I’m lonely, too, sometimes. But I have been a lot less lonely since beginning to travel with you.” The Doctor paused again. You felt your eyes begin to water, but you refused to let yourself cry.

“Our situations are very different, but you don't have to completely close yourself off to me. I want to be here for you, however you need me.”

You fell back into The Doctor’s chest, and he instantly wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head against yours. It felt so nice to be held again like everything was right in the Universe. Your skin felt cool, and your body relaxed, the opposite of how your felt earlier. You now had to intensely fight to hold back tears as you felt your body finally fully relax within the strong arms of The Doctor.

“Every person has boundaries. It would be unsafe if you were to not have them. But please don’t think that you are upsetting me by speaking up about your needs. Okay?” You nodded into The Doctor’s shoulder and uttered a content ‘I understand’ which was muffled by The Doctor’s coat. Sometime during your time being held by The Doctor, you had turned in his arms. You didn’t remember doing this until much later, but you were surprised, despite what he stated, that he stayed like this with you.

The Doctor ended up swaying back and forth for a bit with you in his arms, but as The Doctor usually does, he got bored very quickly.

“You know … There is a planet where instead of handshakes, it’s mannerly for the people to introduce themselves with long hugs. Also, they have multiple interactive cuddle amusement parks and resorts. If you would like to go there with me?”

“You’re getting bored just standing around, aren’t you?” You joke into The Doctor’s jacket.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’d love to go to that planet with you, Doctor. But will you cuddle me while we read together sometimes?” You asked as you slightly pulled away from the Time Lord. The Doctor still kept his arms around you tightly, not allowing you to move too far away from his chest.

“I’ll do it all the time, Y/n. But let’s go to that cuddle planet!” The Doctor kissed your forehead before taking one of your hands and spinning you around a couple of times. He then jumped around the console in order to pilot the two of you to the cuddle planet, where you spent the rest of the day together.

#ghost's posts #my writing #fanfiction #x reader #doctor who #doctor who x reader #the doctor #the doctor x reader #capaldi!doctor #capaldi!doctor x reader #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #twelfth doctor #twelfth doctor x reader

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run-clever-boy · 3 months

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Talk to me - 12th Doctor

12 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minor DNI, Dirty talk, Oral (Fem receiving) Fingering, P in V sex, Unprotected, Swearing

Summary: On an adventure with the doctor, a man tries to take advantage of you in a rough area of a foreign market. The doctor is very protective, and it doesn’t help your obsessed with it.

A.N. - This is my first smut! All comment are appreciated, please be kind. All criticism is welcome, be kind and don’t eat pears! :)

You sat in the TARDIS console room, finally stopping to catch your breath after the exhausting few hours you had just endured. The Doctor decided he would take you to a market on a planet you couldn’t pronounce, which was true for most of the places he takes you. Thinks started getting scary when you got lost and ended up in that end of the market. (Similar to a red light district) You could see the nervousness in his face as men started walking up to you and asking for your price.

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“Is 500 interyen enough, sweetheart?” Asked a particularly insistent man who had gotten a hold of your arm.

“I’m not for sale” You bit out angrily, attempting to shake his arm off of you “just passing through.”

“Everything is for sale here darling” He said slyly, pulling you towards him.

“Not her” The doctor breathes out, barely above a whisper. He grabs you and rips the man’s arm off you. He then guides you out of the place with his hand on your lower back.

That’s when you looked at him only to be met with the rising fury in his eyes. Something you had only seen against the worst of enemies. The wrath of the time lord. You knew that this regeneration was extremely protective, and god did you love it.

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When you looked back on the interaction, the thing that stuck with you wasn’t the market, or the things you bought there, or even the man who grabbed you. It was him. His fiery eyes. His cologne. His protectiveness. Most especially, his baritone Scottish voice. The sound, deep and threatening, sent shivers down your spine. A demanding asset, but one that could whisper sweet nothings to you if he chose. He could captivate you by speaking the simplest things.

-Not her-

You crossed your legs to relieve some of the tension coiling in your stomach as you watched that very man walk back into the console room. He walked around the console on the side opposite of you and flipped a few levers. He walked around slightly to the right as if to approach you, but returned across from you. He gripped the edge of the console and dropped his head, scoffing.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

“He shouldn’t have touched you.” He said quickly and coldly, his head still dropped.

“It’s nothing we could help, doctor, it just-“

“No!” He cut you off, looking up into your eyes. “No man should lay a hand on you!” He raised his hands off the console and tugged his hair. Slowly walking towards where you sit. Power and rage emanating from him.

“Doctor please, it’s alright” You pleaded “Nothing happened to me, I’m fine.” You repeated. You were finding it extremely hard to concentrate with his voice protecting your honor.

“No, Y/n, I don’t think you get it.” He sighs “You aren’t a high dollar whore, you are one of the best beings in the universe. You deserve to be worshipped, not grabbed off the street” He continued, walking towards you still.

If you thought you couldn’t concentrate a minute ago, you had no hope now. His praises played over and over in your head. Your heartbeat quickened and your breaths became shallow. The ever growing ache in your stomach fighting the urge to escape as you squeezed your thighs together in hope of relief.

“That fucker should pay” He continued “He should know what he did, who he did it to. That you are… protected”

He had inched toward you so that he was standing about a foot away from where you sat. You looked into his eyes to see that fury once again, but this time there was something else. His eyes were enveloped with a darkening pupil. Your eyes were hooded with the weight of the lust behind them.

Before you knew what happened, he reached out, tangled his hand in your hair roughly. His lips met yours swiftly. Hard and passionate. You could feel all of his emotions in his searing touch and ragged movements. The breath had been knocked out of you. Your move your hands up and down the smooth fabric of his black suit that you adored. He only finally led up on his more-than-welcome assault to your lips when you needed to come up for air.

“You could’ve just said mine” You breathe against his lips, your faces still centimeters apart.

“What?” The doctor said between pants with audible confusion.

You smirk. “You said ‘He should know that you are… protected’, well you could’ve said” You paused, pulling your hips and body flush against his “that I am yours, or in context-”

“That you are mine. All mine” He cuts you off again.

Your breathing hitches in your throat, and he notices. Of course he does.

“Oh,” He smirks against your lips “someone likes being claimed, do they?”

“Only when it’s you” You quip back, prompting a dark chuckle from him. ‘and in that voice’ you think.

He leans down and brushes his lips against your ear. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You aren’t as good as you think you are at hiding those precious blushes and reactions when I speak.” He says in a particularly sultry tone, accentuating his accent just for you.

The melodic tone of his sexy voice has your eyes fluttering closed and your lips parting, soon being unable to bear the amount of tension.

“You’re right, He shouldn’t have touched what was mine.” He all but growled out, lust evident in his lowering voice.

He takes advantage of your leaned back head and leaves marks all over your neck. He made sure to make you whimper at every sensitive spot he could reach, leaving a soft bruise.

After recovering from the shock of the past few moments, you reach your hands underneath his suit coat and gently move to slide it off his body. He takes the jacket and throws it to the side dismissively, focused on you. He stands you up and kisses you more gently on the lips, with the hint of possession you craved. You stumbled backward and he pressed you against the console as he continued his trail of marks down your body. He would have to move clothing to reach other areas of your figure that he yearned to touch, but has yet to remove anything out of respect for you.

“Now darling, I know you aren’t holding back because of me, are you?” You say between pants. He looks back up into your eyes to see the suggestive smile dancing on your lips. He chuckles and hums lowly, sending a bolt of electricity up your body. You grabs his wrist and move it to touch the skin lying beneath your baggy t-shirt.

He grabs you by the waist underneath your shirt and kisses you gently on the lips. The touch was so… delicate. Contrary to the crime of passion he committed earlier. His lips left yours to stare in your eyes. He took a moment to admire the woman who had spent years following him to the ends of the universe with him. Y/n and her mad old man In a box.

"Well darling" he said in that tone designed to make you crazy "i want you to feel how much you deserve to be worshipped".

He raises your arms above your head and removes your t-shirt, casting it aside in the console room without caring where it landed. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, kissing and biting slightly. He tilted your head back in order to reach the sweet spot under your jaw. His teeth scraped over it and you had to fight back a moan. Meanwhile, his hands wandered around the bare skin of your torso, settling on your back to unclasp your bra, casting it aside.

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you began to unbutton the white dress shirt he was wearing. Each button you unhooked revealed more of his pale figure. You removed the shirt and threw it aside to join the other pile of discarded clothing. You ran your hands all over the cool surface of his chest as he continued sucking and biting on the skin on your neck. He stepped back for a moment. He was just far enough that you could still feel the heat of his body as he looked you up and down.

"God you're beautiful, y/n"

He steps between your legs again, cups your face, and kisses you so tenderly. You press back into the kiss with a little more force, causing him to groan against your lips and move a hand to the back of your neck to steady himself. Your bare chests colliding. His voice playing over and over in your mind. You separate for a moment to rest your foreheads against each other with labored breaths.

“May I?” You say as your hands travel down his stomach the rest on his waistband, looking into his eyes for silent permission.

“Please… yes” He growled out between short breaths.

You trailed your hands over the fabric of his jeans, teasing him over the fabric. His breath hitched and he reached down and caught your hands.

“How about you first, darling?” His Scottish accent rolls the R right onto your skin and sends a major shiver up your spine. “I won’t last long if you tease me like that”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it and drops it. He drops his hands to your jeans and unbuttons it with ease. He grabs the side of your pants and drops them around your ankles. You regain balance against the console and kick away the jeans to join the other long forgotten about garments.

He glides his hand under the hem of your underwear and slides his cool fingertips over your folds, noticing how wet he’s made you. He removes his hand and begins to pull the thin fabric down your legs slowly. He gets the fabric about to your knees before he kneels down to pull the fabric down your long legs, kissing the heated skin all the way to your ankles. After the garment is gone, he pulls his legs underneath him and sits up on his knees, eye level with where you want him most.

He puts his large hands on your hips to steady himself. He slides his hands down between your legs, pressing kisses to your outer thighs, pausing to look up at you through heavy eyelids. Suddenly, he slid his hands over your wetness once again. You silently praised him for his experience with the fairer sex because he managed to find your clit quicker than any man could find a light switch. Your head drops back against the console, your mouth gaping open at the sensation. He used his thumb to circle the bundle of nerves while his other fingers roamed curiously. You turned to see the glorious sight of the most powerful man in the universe, on his knees just to please you. You silently prayed you would get to return the favor at some point.

You locked eyes as he used his index finger to probe into your core, then quickly adding his middle when he was sure it wouldn’t cause you pain. You unconsciously slid a hand into his long silver hair, searching relentlessly for something to steady yourself. He steadily curls and uncurls his fingers inside your core, thrusting a bit further into you each time in hopes to reach your sweet spot. His slender and powerful fingers had no problem identifying the spot that made your toes curl and abusing it. Your legs started shaking from having to stand and withstand the pleasure he was giving you. He pressed kisses to your inner thigh, continuing his ministrations while guiding you leg onto his shoulder. He did the same to your other leg and he kept your hips firmly pressed into the wall so you wouldn’t fall.

He couldn’t help but watch the involuntary faces you made due to his manipulation. He withdrew his fingers from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact, tugging his hair slightly. He very quickly replaced where his fingers were with his skilled tongue. A loud moan escaped your lips and he groaned against your core, the vibrations only making the pleasure more unbearable.

“Fuck, you taste so fucking good, love.”

He added more pressure, combined with his tongue flicking back and forth against your clit and moving to tease your entrance. God his voice. You couldn’t imagine any other sound that turned you on as much as that. The pool of heat started to build slowly in your lower abdomen. He brought his thumb to tease your clit once again.

“Please… do-don’t stop. I’m s-so close, doctor”

He continued at a feverish pace, steadying your figure with his hands having a tight grip on your thighs that were draped over his shoulders. You could feel yourself get to the very cusp. Your vision started blurring. Mixes of moans, pleas, and groans streamed out of your mouth. The white hot feeling fast approaching when it all of a sudden hits like a freight train. The most guttural moan left your mouth, the pure want and relief leaving your body. He moved your legs back to their original positions, being careful to keep your weight help up. He licked you clean through your orgasm and kissed his way back up to leave a searing kiss on your lips.

“Do you have… a bedroom, doctor?” You say when you have regained enough consciousness to form sentences.

“I’ll lead the way”

He grabs your hand and slowly navigated the TARDIS hallways in an attempt to find his room, being careful to make sure you can keep up with your shaky footing. Eventually, he stops at an unassuming dark blue door, and opens it. Inside are piles upon piles of books and his other belongings. To be honest, you could look at the collection later, but right now there was something else on both of your minds. He closes the door behind him and kisses you again. He backs you up until you hit the beam. You crawled onto the bed and laid down below him submissively. He crawls on top of you and doesn’t break a string of curses for anything. He unbuttoned his pants and discarded them, along with the boxer underneath. He was one hell of a man. His lean figure and his pale skin. You reach out and stroke him, observing the look of pleasure on his face.

“Do you need more time?” He asked, clearly aching with anticipation, but still values your safety and concerns over anything.

“No, please doc, I need you”

The few words was all the permission he needed to coax himself into your tight core. The sounds that came out of him were unholy. As were the sounds he forced out of you. He stayed inside so you could adjust to his size. When he saw your face distort in pleasure, he took the hint to start moving in and out. He filled you so completely. The passion between you made it feel like two pieces of a puzzle, finally fitting together. You longed for every part of him you could reach. Skin gliding across skin. Fingers caught in your lovers hair. Nails scratching up and down his scarred back. The sweet nothings drove you crazy.

“You’re mine”

“You feel so good”

“You are my universe, and every star in it”

“Oh, y/n”

Most of all you loved the love letters he spoke in Gallifreyan that you couldn’t understand. The mystery of the language and pronunciations fascinated you. The tone and his admiration made your senses heighten and all the pressure build quickly once again. You could feel the doctor start to tremble, knowing he’s doing everything he can to hold back until you were satisfied. He leaned down and nipped at the skin underneath your jaw, eliciting the loudest moans you thought you could muster. He picked up your hips and started thrusting into you sloppily, now hitting both your clit and g-spot. You couldn’t even warn the doctor before you came, the euphoria taking over every spot of your vision, leaving you seeing stars. He thrust a few more times lazily and you could feel the tension snap. He spilled into you, holding you tightly as he steadied himself.

He pulled himself out of you and layer next to you. You could see the layer of sweat covering his body. You leaned over and rested your head on his chest.

“I’m yours” You breathed against his chest

“Y/n?”

“Yes doctor?”

“I want to make sure that you know… well” He hesitated then sighed “That I love you”

You looked into his eyes “I love you too doctor, never forget it” He sighed a sigh of relief this time.

“I really liked it when you said that”

“I’ll do it more often, darling. Just for you”

You were lulled to sleep by the soothing sounds of the TARDIS humming on the chest of the doctor. Your doctor. Limbs tangled with limbs, draped it the light of a thousand stars. All was as it should be.

Now on AO3

#12th doctor #twelfth doctor #twelve #doctor who #peter capaldi #doctor who smut #smut #Twelve x reader #the twelfth doctor #twelfth doctor x reader

181 notes · View notes

raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months

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Twelfth Doctor NSFW Alphabet

Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

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

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Twelve doesn’t like to sit still for too long, even after sex. He does like to cuddle, and one of his favourite things is tracing your palm lines while his head rests on your shoulder, but he can only relax like that for about an hour at most before he’s itching to go do something- usually shower with you or tinker with some sort of alien tech.

He also likes to listen to music after sex- soft instrumental music. Sometime’s he’ll play with your fingers and read you an excerpt of a book he’s reading if he’s wanting to do something but also cuddle with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favourite body part on himself are his ears. He loves having them kissed and stimulated, but he also just likes the way they look on him. Twelve’s favourite body part on his partner is usually their ankles. The man is obsessed with a pretty ankle.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Twelve goes absolutely feral when he sees his cum dripping off from your skin. Chest, chin, back, ass- wherever.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not for everyone (and not for Raz either) but I feel like Twelve would like- enjoy giving foot massages a little too much. Something about the view up your legs, the curve of your skin and the way you moan under his touch when he rubs a stubborn knot out of the sole of your foot. Just drives him wild. He just has a little bit of a thing for feet.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Twelve is not that experienced. He doesn’t fuck on a whim, he fucks for love and companionship- so he’s not had many one-night stands or anything like that, but he’s a fast learner and one of the things that he enjoys the most about a new relationship is finding out exactly how to make his partner melt for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Twelve’s favourite position is having you ride him. He loves to put his hands on your ass and watch you pleasure yourself on him. He finds the sight of you like that spectacularly erotic- particularly when he grips you tight and decides to fuck up into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends. Twelve can be serious, but he can be goofy too. If he’s feeling self-conscious, he’s definitely going to be a little goofier in order to distract himself and his partner from his insecurities.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Twelve doesn’t really care for pubic maintenance hair-wise. He just lets the hair do what it wants, but he makes sure to keep it clean, of course.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, it depends on how insecure he’s feeling. If he’s feeling confident, he’s very suave and romantic, but if he’s feeling insecure, he can be a bit awkward, too. If he’s feeling dominant, though, he’s not very romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Twelve only really masturbates when he’s really, really desperate. He doesn’t really have time to, otherwise. Always flitting about from one thing to the next.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Twelve has a daddy kink. He also as I mentioned before, has a mild thing for feet, and he really likes to choke his partners. That rush sends pleasure up his spine and makes his brain tingle.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Up against the wall is his favourite place to do it. Second to that is over the couch.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Twelve is turned on by music, sometimes. As in, bassy guitar riffs and lyrics to match. If you wear lipstick, a deep shade of red will also get him going, too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Gun and knife play are big no-no’s and he’s not big on cnc, either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preference is to give. There’s nothing like being trapped between his lovers’ thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Generally speaking, Twelve likes to be slower and more gentle, but he’s not opposed to a good hard fuck either if the mood strikes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Twelve is a big fan of quickies. The amount of times he’s fucked you in a broom closet between lunch and the oncoming alien incursion has been innumerable.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Twelve is all about risk in the bedroom. He’s keen to try things, learn things, experience things. As long as they don’t put you in danger, he is game.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Twelve can go three to four rounds before he needs to take a break, but that doesn’t mean he’s not game to eat you out between them either, though.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Twelve is a big fan of toys. He makes them for you- manages to make sure they are attuned to you specifically and what gives you pleasure. He loves to watch you use a toy and work it inside yourself or on yourself that he’s made with his own hands.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Twelve is a huge tease. Both with touches, caresses but then with orgasms too. He’s not opposed to seeing how many times he can edge you before you break your last record.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Twelve isn’t super loud, but he’s not quiet either. He moans a lot and tends to suck in his breath, too when something feels particularly good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If you lick, nibble or suck on his ear lobe, he will be complete putty in your hands. Just brushing over the shell or whispering in his ear will do the trick too, to be honest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

For an older body, he’s surprisingly toned. Not a six-pack or anything, but he’s got the beginnings of some muscle firmness under the soft belly. In terms of his dick, though, he’s rather long and pale, and there is a vein that runs along the left-hand side that pulses blue.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Twelve’s sex drive is a bit sporadic. He will go through a period of time where he’s not in the mood, and then it will all suddenly hit at once and all he will want to do for the next two weeks is fuck your brains out.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

Barely ever. Twelve doesn’t really sleep a lot, and he doesn’t fall asleep after sex very often at all.

192 notes · View notes

anteroom-of-death · 3 months

Text

Teacher's Pet part 6

Synopsis: The game is set, and the players are playing. The Doctor and the Reader...what will go on?

A/n: I'm laughing evily. Also, I'm in good spirits, had a phenomenal day. This one is a bit longer. Turns out if you have little responsibility, besides yourself, you can bang out a banger. Also, listen to Maria by Justin Bieber.

You saw the Gmail alert go off on your phone as you changed into a suitable cute outfit and did your first layer of work make up. You were out of luck, there was a new girl in and she was getting the VIP treatment with the largest suite offered. You were moisturizing yourself before you dared to look. You really couldn’t be arsed if it was a personal email on your private account. And you didn’t need the anxiety if it was on your school account. You were angry that you didn’t have enough room to stretch out or put emotional distance between a man and you, if the situation provided required it.

You got yourself perfect, as there were already some cars in the car park. Probably a bit of stress relief before these men went home to their wives and kids. They’d blame traffic. Probably.

You didn’t know or care. Their lives seemed like parallel universes. Hypothetical. Unproven. Just a theory.

You decided to give yourself another dusting of antiperspirant before checking your phone.

It was fucking him…

You opened it,

“Dear (y/n),

It’s a shame that you’re not well. I’ll see you at the same time as last week. Secure the notes from someone.

Cordially yours,

Professor Smith.”

And that’s the name of that tune, you bitterly scoffed. You tossed your phone onto the table you had it rest on with the rest of your needs for work.

Seemed up his alley to wreck your focus! With his stupid face and stupid lust for life!

Plus, being on your phone was not focused on your bag.

Out of sight, out of mind..

You said “Hello” to the security guy again on your way to the bar. A few men were there and you had hours to go before your first appointment. One of the other girls working was talking to two at once. One was in deep discussion with the bartender and the phone girl.

One man was nursing a beer and was watching something on his phone. A target.

Good.

You walked over and put in the work. He was easily satisfied and went back to the bar and nursed another beer before getting up and leaving.

You actually had a good day and napped easily before you went on your second shift. You had plenty of money and dropped a fat, crisp twenty note in front of the homeless person outside the shops.

You bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked one on your way back to the cloister of your “office”. You let out a shaky cough. It had been over a week since your last one, so obviously, the smoke hit your lungs harshly.

Damn that man!

You napped some more before returning to work. Fresh outfit, even more make up. A spritz of perfume to hide the scent of smoke in the hair…

A whole routine.

Friday night was lucrative to the point of pain. You had to tell your manager and booking girl that you were going on a walk and needed a break.

You took your phone, bundled up, and your headphones.

It was after midnight, dangerous, but whatever. Keep to the area.

You had a wonderful time, the few cigarettes you consumed and the Fanta you drank restored you. The music was a good thing.

Suddenly the air felt heavy. And you felt observed. Something on the back of your neck. The hairs. It felt perverse. You paused your music and took out your headphones long enough to hear a weird, distinctive “vwrorrp-vworrp” followed by what sounded like a car wheezing.

Whatever the hell it was-it freaked you out enough to go back in the safety of the car park.

You finished up and went back. Had a quick shower and started preparing for the next chapter of your work shift.

You hated the stupid schedule system, but shifts like this made it all worth it.

Saturday was just a bit slower and Sunday, outside some bookings that were already scheduled was glacial and dry. Bad fishing.

Thank heavens for Thursday and Friday! You thought. You made bank, and had some fun. Always a good thing. And the manager got you all some fancy pizza in celebration of the new girl surviving her first rotation. And her deciding that all this was worth some more time to sell.

The manager really must have taken a shine to her. That never happened.

All in all? Good work. You could rest easy for the rest of the week. And pay off bills. And afford to shop at a fancy health food store instead of probably junk, loaded with shit, that’ll kill you quicker.

Yippee!

You had barely thought of your little distraction all weekend, until Monday.

Your alarm went off. And you remembered you hadn’t responded to him.

“Thanks! Sorry for the late reply! I was busy! I’ll be there!” It was quick, apologetic and mostly-honest.

Him.

You cursed yourself out. The minute he came into focus, you were a bigger mess than you were ever before!

You messaged someone who you knew had probably had the notes from Thursday. No such luck. And your little meeting was looming large.

You’d have to tell him the truth, you fucked up. No notes.

Deciding to revel in the mundane, before leaving, you made yourself a nice cup of mint tea with honey. You sat in a corner wrapped in your blanket and luxuriate in the warmth of the tea and the rest of the blanket pile. You wasted a few minutes on social media. Drowning your brain cells seemed like a good idea. A distraction for you from the returned knot in your stomach and hole in your heart that your stupid crush on Professor Smith had caused. A very welcome one.

After all, you did have couple thousand pound weekend! A freak occurrence! Rare! So why not indulge in some mindless self care?

After a while, you made the smart choice and readied yourself for school and the war zone that being locked in the office with him would be.

The class you had in the morning slipped by with your focus becoming increasingly erratic. You didn’t want to go, but you trudged into the bathroom to psych yourself up. Not out..

Finally stable, you trudged your way to your new Hell. A concept that, up until this semester, was comical to you.

You felt like a clown.

Booboo the Fool.

You had to laugh at yourself. Buy yourself a clown nose and ship yourself off to the circus!

Pathetic!

You knocked raptly. Maybe you’d just go into a manic state or overdrive and the time would fly away and you’d go back to life. And he would potentially be scared of you enough to back off and not encourage any more meetings besides what your schedule permitted…

He welcomed you in, offered to take your jacket and pulled out the chair for you.

“I had my assistant get me some hot chocolate for us.” He gestured over to some disposable cups lodged into one of those cardboard cup holder things.

The fuck was he doing? Had you passed out and entered dream world? Was he tormenting you? Did he know that you were just head over heels for him?

“Thanks…” You said and took it. You off-handedly wished you had those strips that you could test if a drink had been fucked with. Not that you’d accuse him of it. Or rather that you leapt to the conclusion that he was trying to. Life had taught you that free drinks from men sometimes came with consequences.

You reassured yourself that he was still besotted with his dead wife. The total badass.

You envied her. She got what you clearly desired.

You swallowed a sip.

He seemed casual. Had a simple jumper on over his body and a pair of dark jeans. You noticed he wore Doc Martens. Very ageing punk rocker. The jumper hung on his chest quite well. He was skinny, but you could see his chest was sturdy.

“So, did you get your notes?” He smiled, all of his teeth showing. He seemed to know something. There was a bizarre glint in his eye. It was as freaky as it was mesmerizing.

“No, didn’t get a chance. I’m going to the school tutoring soon. I’ll talk to them about it. My fault. The weekend got away from me. I was swamped at work. And then I forgot. I’m sorry.” You blabbered on, deeply apologetic.

You prayed in your mind that if Gd was listening, for him to open a hole up in the planet, swallow you whole, and that you were sorry for that one time you accidentally ate a cheeseburger drunk.

Among other sins…

“Then I have to educate you from scratch. You remember on Tuesday we were talking about the nature of the universe and what it owes us? If it owes us?”

“Yes.” You added a keen head-shake. Remembering how you fled the room and had a mental breakdown.

“What if you put in the work? For years. Centuries even. Battled with the darkness in yourself and others. Saved all you could save. Then what? Would the universe grant you a favor? What would you do to garner that favor?”

You were losing the plot. Clearly.

“What if you were timid and didn’t mean to tread on things? Just survived. Suffered a bit, nothing to write home about, but still enough to Mar your soul? Did what you had to. Would the universe grant you mercy in form of a favor?”

Seemed like this was bordering on less of philosophy and more of theology. Something a small child would pester their rabbi or priest or imam or whatever about. But that was first glance.

Secondary seemed like it was flying too close to the sun.

Self-descriptive much?

God complex?

You slung an arm on your chair and settled back. A game? Is that was he was getting at?

“If the universe owed someone something, that would be antithetical. If you’re bargaining with a God, which is what it seems that you are proposing…Gods usually don’t answer you unless you give them a good offer first.” Your tongue clicked forward, you could feel your eyes making a push forward, widening.

You could play along.

“Are you making an offering to a deity? Dear professor…” You crossed your arms and leaned forward.

You saw something pass over his face. A trillion different micro-calculations. Several amused and several dark looks.

He swallowed.

What was his deal? You mused before trying a new string of words.

“Or are you the God here?” You blasphemed…pursing your lips. Biting the skin under them.

More emotions shot through his painfully attractive face. The lines on his face seemed to glimmer deeper.

He swallowed harder. A singular eyebrow arched up.

Seriously, those things were weapons.

“What if I am?” He breathed out.

“Does that make your students your devotees?” You pushed a bit further…

He slinked over to the chair and leaned forward. Fully turning his eyes unto your soul. “Oh, maybe you’d enjoy that.” He smoothed out his voice, directly into your mind. It seemed to echo into the corners of your skull. Vibrating.

You would enjoy it. Too much.

Your body and mind felt flushed and overheated. The office seemed to get as hot as a midsummer day on the beach.

“So, does the universe get what it’s owed, (y/n)?”

Your breathing quickened and your throat got dry. You reached (well more like flailed…) for your beverage. A big gulp, not breaking eye contact.

“Are you a devotee? To come worship at the altar?” He questioned further. Placing both of those incredible hands at the sides of the chair. Leaning further forward. His cool breath hitting your face. It smelled fresh. Not like good oral hygienic skills, but something foreign and strong. Striking, and a little addictive. You could spend the rest of your life trying to find a word to describe it further, or something to compare the scent to. It’s was…incredible. And maybe edible.

Barely two inches stayed between your noses. If you were a computer, you would have blue screened.

Your were human, and could afford no such luxury, sadly.

The pit of your stomach closed up.

An increasingly rare, but familiar throb coursed through you as warmth accelerated its way through your body. Rocking your core. Your heart was rocketing for the moon. You started to sweat. Literally.

You clenched yourself. Literally squeezed your legs together. To stop yourself from coming undone. From going deeper under this spell he cast on you.

But too late!

Far too late!

You already were becoming quite undone. Wet in more ways than just the sweat now forming on your brow and your back.

You knew what he was getting at. But didn’t want to conceded the victory to him…

Why did he make you buckle?

And more importantly, why did he seem to want you to buckle?

The trap was set, it was elaborate and elegant. He even provided drink and ambiance! How could you be so blind?

Especially you!

A shoe on the other foot…

You felt in a verbal checkmate.

“Maybe.” You choked out finally after a short eternity. Your heart raced faster still, threatening to break through it’s cage.

“Maybe isn’t good enough.” Another breath washed over your face. The gap between your noses closed to barely an inch.

You buckled…

#personal #doctor who #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #reader x 12th doctor #12th doctor x you #you x 12th doctor #self insert #self indulgent #write with what you know #i am a prime candidate for a lobotomy #too bad time travel ain't real #doctor who fanfiction #teacher student #i wrote this #peter capaldi #yeet

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