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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Eleventh Doctor x insecure/ anxious reader?

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

"Cold feet" - 11th Doctor x Reader

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

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you in love?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Has that ever happened?"

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

"Which part?"

"Panicking in the bathroom."

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

"You never said anything."

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm... not?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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writeyouin · 1 year

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Doctor Who (11) X Reader - Holding You

Description - The Doctor finds you sleeping in his bed, and he can't bring himself to leave you. Angst. Hurt / Comfort.

A/N - So, after 29 years I finally see what all the fuss is about and got into Doctor Who. I was just never into it before but now I'm really watching it and I adore it, so I had to write this.

Warnings - None.

Rating - T

Usually, adventures with the Doctor were grand events, full of intrigue, mischief, and maybe a dash of trouble, but the trouble was nothing that you and he together couldn't handle.

Yet, for the first time, things had gone terribly wrong. For the first time ever on an adventure, you hadn't felt safe with the Doctor, almost meeting your end as you were faced with the reality that you could die on any mission and you very nearly had. Yet, even though you had lived and would see another day, you didn't feel good about it when you considered the mass genocide of an alien race that both you and the Doctor had been unable to prevent.

After such an unfathomably awful event, you weren't sure what to do. So, to give yourself some time to think, you told the Doctor that you were going to bathe, and that was that, he didn't even question it, falling into his own quiet despair as he singlehandedly manned the TARDIS, flying it into Deep Space until the two of you were ready to go somewhere else.

Eventually, when you didn't return, the Doctor began wondering where you were and if you had gotten lost; it was quite possible since you weren't familiar with the TARDIS like he was, and it was considerably larger than anyone really anticipated it to be.

The Doctor stroked the TARDIS' control panel affectionately.

"Stay on course, old girl," He instructed. "I think our friend might be having a hard time of it."

With that, he left the control room and began searching for you, calling your name and masking his pain with a charming grin and a jovial tone. In truth, he would have liked to be allowed to cry but at his age, when he had already seen the worst of everything, he was more apt to comfort others and pretend that everything was okay even when it most definitely wasn't.

The Doctor searched room after room, going through them methodically as he sought you out, hoping that you weren't hiding away where he wouldn't be able to help you.

Eventually, the TARDIS' strip lights turned on, setting out a path for him to follow.

"Clever girl," The Doctor praised the TARDIS, his wonderful ship.

He followed the lights to the one room he hadn't expected and for a moment, he was certain that the TARDIS had made a mistake or was ordering him to rest, for of all the rooms on the ship, it had led him to his own bedroom.

There were six bedrooms in total on the ship, and though the Doctor hardly spent any time in his, often just falling asleep in the control room or on one of the catwalks, he did still keep one room for himself. Having often dropped you off at home, the Doctor hadn't gotten around to presenting you with one of the other rooms yet, though he had meant to.

Heading inside, the Doctor fell silent, finding you asleep on the bed. You didn't look peaceful, nor did you look happy as many often did at times of rest; instead you simply looked tired. It was quite likely, the Doctor supposed, that you had indeed gone to seek out the bathroom and instead gotten mixed up and had found this room instead, though you likely wouldn't have known it was his room.

Did you even have any idea that the Doctor avoided this room so much because when he stared at the ceiling on a night, his head and hearts were full of ideas of you?

Ideally, the Doctor knew that he ought to leave you there to rest, but he too was tired. He was heartbroken by his losses today, and his bones were weary with age. He longed for a simple life, a human life that he would never be permitted. The TARDIS was his home, his responsibility, and sometimes, just sometimes it was his prison, constantly reminding him that he was a nomad and couldn't revel in an ordinary life with a person he loved. Oh, how he dreamed of the things that most people cast off as mundane.

Yes, he knew that he should leave you to your rest and set himself about on another task, but he loved you, and if he couldn't have you to hold forever, then he could at least have you for a moment.

Moving quietly, the Doctor got into bed beside you and leaned into the curve of your body, holding you delicately, and taking a moment to breathe you in.

He pulled the blanket over you both and then exhaled contentedly.

No doubt when you awoke he would make some hyperactive excuse as to why he was there, casually brushing it off as normal or perhaps blaming you for taking his bed, but for now, while you were asleep, he could simply dwell in the comfort of a night holding you.

#Doctor who #new who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

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They Kiss You To Escape

Preference

Characters: Tenth Doctor, Eleventh Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rory Williams

Warnings:

Request: “Good night! I love Doctor Who and I really wanted to send you a request about a preference 😁 10, 11, Jack and Rory having to kiss their crushes to escape/hide from someone, please!” Anon

~~~

Tenth Doctor

The Doctor looked so uncomfortable.

He was pressed into the corner of the conference room, unable to escape the chattering of a persistent woman. She laughed ridiculously, shaking her whole body until she was bumping into him. The Doctor shook her off with a forced smile.

(Y/N) watched them from afar, perhaps enjoying his state of panic – very rarely do you see the Doctor knocked down a peg.

Though it was peculiar to see him so resistant of a flirtatious encounter. He was always sweeping strangers off their feet with talk of space and how brilliant he was. But right then there was nothing but strain on his face as the touchy woman sought his arm.

“I should take pity on him,” (Y/N) thought, sipping the remaining of her cocktail and envisioning a list of things the Doctor could do to repay her kindness.

She nudged through the crowd of babbling businessmen and their escorts to reach the corner of the room, starting to hear the high pitch voice of the confounding woman.

“Oh, stop!” she shrieked in laughter, “You couldn’t possibly have anything else to do tonight.”

“W-Well…” the Doctor stuttered, “I’ve got people to see, lords to meet, p-planets to save.” He frantically sought an excuse to escape.

(Y/N) could have sworn she watched the clouds part and sunshine fall on his face as the Doctor spotted her arrival. He practically yelled at her.

“(Y/N)!”

The insistent woman turned brazenly, a hand against her collarbone.

“Hi there,” (Y/N) said brightly.

“Hello, darling,” the Doctor said, pushing to reach her side. “How are you?”

But he didn’t give her a chance to respond as he gripped her waist and pulled her to his lips. He kissed her hard and fierce, leaving no room to question how he felt about her. (Y/N) was shocked into a standstill, hands braced against his arms as he leaned into her hungrily.

It was all-consuming, his fingers digging into her sides, holding her in place as he claimed her mouth.

The pair of them were so absorbed in each other’s embrace that they completely missed the departure of the flustered woman.

It might’ve been minutes later that (Y/N) pushed against the Doctor’s arms, gasping for air. “Woah…”

The Doctor instantly pulled away, believing that he had overstepped beyond repair. He rubbed at his face, fingers lingering over his lips as he fumbled over something to say.

“I… you – I’m sorry, (Y/N),” and he looked it too. “I couldn’t get that infernal woman to leave and then you… I didn’t mean to come at you like that.”

(Y/N) had a hand to her chest, chasing the rapid beating of her heart. “Um…” she gulped, “I didn’t mind.”

His head was downturned, but his eyes flew to hers. “Sorry?”

She shook her head, “I didn’t mind.”

He got a wonderous look on his face. And (Y/N) had the sneaking suspicion there was a reason he didn’t fancy going out with the stranger.

Eleventh Doctor

His mind was reeling, jumping from one scenario to another. It was making his jittery movements more erratic, his fingers dancing about as he saw his thoughts before him.

He was starting to sweat with the anticipation, “By George,” he muttered, “I’m in a right state.”

“Sorry?” (Y/N) asked, lounging near the tardis. It was stuck in a quantum lock by a devious friend of the Doctor’s, one that peevishly sought to jest his companions with silly requests.

The Doctor winced at her words, on the brink of bolting, “I’ve got to do something.” He rubbed his fingertips together, inching towards her like every step was crunching over glass. “And in all my years, it’s comparable to some of the most terrifying things I’ve ever done.”

“Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked, standing to meet him, “You’re a bit jumpy.”

He gave a breathy laugh, “I’m just twitterpated.”

She scrunched her brow, “Okay,” she eyed his nervous gaze.

He licked his lips, “See the problem is I’ve made a deal with the magistrate,” he gestured towards the palace behind them, “And there’s no way we can unlock the tardis without me meeting the terms.”

“Alright,” (Y/N) smiled, “What is he asking you to do?”

“Something I’ve given a great deal of thought to,” he bounced on the balls of his feet, “And my friend finds it appropriate to make it a requirement for our escape.”

“Can I help?”

He laughed again, high and nervous, “Bear with me.” He reached her standing figure, “This isn’t quite how I imagined it, but… right.” He went to cup her face with nimble fingers, fear lining his gaze.

(Y/N) grew worried, reaching to grab his arm, but before she could voice her concern, the Doctor put his lips on hers. Gentle and apprehensive and sweet at first, he pulled away just an inch – only to plant a stronger kiss right after. It was as if he wanted to capture one memorable kiss before the possible rejection that might follow.

He had to pry himself away, stumbling back and ashamedly looking at her as the tardis doors swung open as if on command.

“I’m sorry,” he said, twisting his fingers.

She stared at him with wide eyes, “You daft old man.” His continual look of shame brought a smile to her face, “I would have agreed if you just asked.”

His posture straightened out, surprised, “You… you didn’t mind.”

“Doctor,” she laughed, “I’ve known about your little crush since our first adventure. You’re so terribly obvious.”

He started to smile, “I always thought myself mysterious and debonair.”

“And who was I to crush that confidence.” She went for his hand, “You would have thought he asked you to wipe my memory or send me away with how scared you looked.”

“You happen to be a very scary person.”

“Said no one, ever.”

He shrugged, giddily enjoying his hand in hers, “We’re holding hands.”

She laughed, “Well spotted, Doctor.”

Jack

They raced down the corridor, blaring red lights illuminating their path. The terrifying sound of dozens of army boots pounded away behind them.

Jack grappled for her hand.

“Just around this corner!” he yelled over the sirens, “There’s gotta be a way out.”

“What if there isn’t?”

“Don’t think like that,” Jack cried, swinging around the corner.

They came face to face with a high security door. It was sealed airtight, powered by an electrical panel.

“Dammit,” Jack ground out, pounding on the metal door, once – twice. “Right.” He tore at the electrical panel, revealing a mess of buzzing wires. A few began sparking as he tugged at them, whipping his hand away at singeing his fingers.

“We don’t have a way to open it,” (Y/N) muttered, feeling her gut sink at the realization that they were trapped with the inevitable chasing after them.

Jack rolled up his sleeves, “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He gave her a wink, “I told you I’d get us out of here – a few wires aren’t going to stop us.”

“But you’ll be electric-“ She was cut off with a scream as Jack reached in and yanked a fistful of wires out of the box.

His teeth clenched, his body seizing as volts of lightning shot through him, effectively stopping his heart. He flew to the ground, singed and smoking, completely still as the life left him.

(Y/N) cried out, falling to her knees, “Jack,” she gasped. “Oh my god, Jack!” She reached for his chest, ignoring how the door unsealed itself, snapping open with a hiss.

“Come on,” she said shakily, placing her fists over his heart and beginning to push down. “I swear to god, Jack, if you die because of opening a bloody door…”

She cupped his face, kissing him gently and blowing air into his lungs. He didn’t stir for another minute, the taste of salty tears on his lips as she began to cry above him.

It was not how she envisioned their first kiss.

“Please,” she begged, “Please, wake up.”

And with an almighty breath, Jack sat up, crying out, “Woah!” He planted his hands on his chest, wincing, “Did you give me CPR?”

(Y/N) had her hands over her mouth, staring at him in horror.

He was touching his lips then, “Were we kissing?” He gave her a raised eyebrow, “And I missed it?”

She smacked him across the arm, “Why are you acting like that? You just died, Jack!”

“Yeah, about that…” he climbed to his feet, “I sort of can’t – you know – die.”

(Y/N) glared at him, “Would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

He shrugged, giving her that charismatic smile, “I have a flare for the dramatic.” He took a step towards her, “Now, about that kiss.”

“You mean the CPR I was giving you to save your life.”

“Potato, patato,” he grinned, “I think we should do it again sometime.”

She shook her head, unable to contain her smile, “Unbelievable.”

Rory

They walked as inconspicuously as possible, not wishing to draw the attention of the crowds. Rory had her wrist in his hand, paving the way through the masses. They tried to hide their growing looks of panic, taking short, shallow breaths.

“Do they know we’re here?” (Y/N) asked quietly near his back.

He swallowed, “I hope not.”

“Very reassuring,” she muttered, whipping her eyes around. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

He led her towards the nearest corridor, checking to see if any uniforms were waiting just around the corner. They moved quicker, jogging around to find the exit. It was just another day in the life of adventure with the Doctor.

And what could be more brilliant than getting lost on a foreign planet without any idea where the tardis was.

“Do you hear that?” (Y/N) tugged on Rory’s hand, pausing their steps.

He scrunched his brow, “Reinforcements.” Heavy footfalls seemed to come from all around them. “They must be changing shifts.”

(Y/N) spotted a helmet turning the corner on their left, “Incoming.”

Rory cursed, looking towards the right and seeing the same thing. Soldiers were winding their way through the traveling people.

“What do we do?” (Y/N) whispered, feeling Rory’s fingers fidget against her wrist. “They’re going to spot us for sure.”

Rory looked unsure of himself, pulling (Y/N) towards him, “Do you trust me?”

“What?” She eyed his apprehension, “Of course I trust you.”

He gulped, pressing her flush against him and waiting for the soldiers to be mere feet away. Finally he took a shaky breath and twisted her around, pressing her into the wall behind them. He slammed his lips onto hers, shielding as much of her body with his.

She was hesitant at first but went along with the plan as soon as her shock wore off. She wound her fingers into his hair, keeping him against her mouth. They melded together, hot and heavy against the wall as groups of people wanders past.

It was a lifetime before they pulled apart for some air.

“Well, that was…” (Y/N) started off.

Rory blinked, all in a daze, “Yeah…”

She bit her lip, “I think we’re in the clear.”

“Right, of course,” he cleared his throat. “But when we get back…”

She raised her eyebrows, “Pick up where we left off?”

“Yes, please.”

~~~

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holly-the-trash-writer · 10 months

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Matt Smith x Singer/Actress!Reader

Told through Instagram posts

everything.y/n

Liked by y/nfan and 4,687 others

everything.y/n SCREAMINGGGGG!!!! Y/N WAS ANNOUNCED TO BE MATT SMITHS NEW COMPANION!!!! THIS SEASON IS GONNA BE AMAZINGGGGG!!!!! @yourinstagram

View all 1,487 comments

mattfan So jealous she's acting alongside Matt 😭😭😭

y/nn. More Y/n content!!!! They're gonna look so cute together 😍😍😍

drwhovian She won't be as good as past companions. She can't act 💀💀

everything.y/n Keep your wrong opinions to yourself thnx

your.album.name SHE'S ACTING AGAIN 😭❤️

y/nstan A new album and a tv show in one year. She's spoiling us

bbcdoctorwho

Liked by yourinstagram and 30,643 others

bbcdoctorwho Introducing The Doctor and Nancy 💙

We all want to give Y/n Y/L/n a huge welcome to the Doctor Who cast.

You're go-go-going to be brilliant!

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yourinstagram

Liked by mattsmith, florencepugh and 302,584 others

yourinstagram 💙Nancy Sutton reporting for Tardis duty💙

I'm still in a dream. I used to watch Doctor Who every weekend growing up. It was a huge part of my family and my childhood and now I get to be in the show ❤️ My heart could explode right now!

Thank you to Steven for even considering me for the role!

To Matt, you are an amazing actor and Doctor. I couldn't ask for anyone better to act beside and I won't let you down.

I cannot wait to run across the universe with you.

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florencepugh *Tardis Noise*

y/n 👽

y/nfan03 THIS IS EVAH REE THANGGGG

your.album.name She left no crumbs ☠️

mattsmith You're going to be great darling

Liked by yourinstagram

the.y/n.diaries DARLING. The dating rumours start now

y/n.is.mother He really said ✨️darling✨️

user543 He's English. They call everyone darling. YALL CHILLL

drwhofan the 60s look is SO GOOD 😍

E!news

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E!news ‼️BREAKING‼️ Y/N AND MATT DATING RUMOURS‼️

Y/n L/n and Matt Smith have shook up the Doctor Who franchise in more ways than one. Fans have noticed their intense chemistry in front of the camera but has their chemistry made it off camera?

Earlier this week, the co-stars looked very cosy at the Brit Awards, and sources say they were seen leaving together at the end of the night.

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everything.y/n OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING

matt.y/n.endgame STAY CALM

drwhovian she's too young for him. Gold digger 💀💀

y/n.is.life dude. Shut up. If they're happy leave them alone.

your.album.name

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your.album.name NOT A DRILL‼️ Y/N WAS SPOTTED LEAVING HER RECORDING STUDIO IN LONDON TODAY!!!!!

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user754 where does she find the time. MY GOD

y/n.stan86 This is her era.

celebnews

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celebnews Doctor Who co-stars fuel romance rumours during their photoshoot in Venice. The two have been filming for the past year and a half and during this time the romance rumours have only grown.

During the shoot, the two were pictured in a close moment where Y/n brushed Matt's hair, and then Matt placed his arm over her.

On screen their characters have a slow burning romance story but in real life the romance seems to be blossoming fast.

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nancy.sutton134 YES YES YES @everything.y/n

mattsimp Theyre so f*in cute!!!!

y/n4life I hope they're happy. They're such a power couple.

y/ndeservesit God. Sad, she can't be left alone.

celebtea These ppl clutching at straws. Its a PHOTOSHOOT!

yourinstagram75 LET US HAVE THIS

y/n.sutton Y/N LIKED IT!!!! THATS PROOF 4 ME

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yourinstagram

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yourinstagram I'll be the universe, and you'll be N.A.S.A 🌌

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tomholland2013 Someone call a doctor

yourinstagram I'm sick 🤭

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bbcdoctorwho 💙

sadiesink_ what a lyric 😍😍

y/n.sutton CONFIRMEDDDDDDDDD

everything.y/n WE KNEW IT

matt.y/n.endgame LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY BOTH LOOK!!!!! 😭😭😭

yourinstagram.queen A lyric from her new song and a relationship confirmation. Deceased💀

queen.y/n ARE WE NOT GONNA MENTION THAT HER SONG IS ABOUT HIM!!!! DOES THIS MEAN WE GET A MATT INTERLUDE?!?!

mattsmith

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mattsmith Run with me forever, Nancy

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#famous!reader #actress!reader #eleventh doctor fanfiction #eleventh doctor x fem!reader #instagram posts #matt smith #eleventhdoctor #the doctor #doctor who

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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

Clever Boy - Eleventh Doctor Imagine [Doctor Who]

Title: Clever Boy

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor X Reader

Word Count: 6,449 words

Warning(s): major character death, canon-typical violence, mention of past trauma

Summary: [Season 7, Episode 1] The Doctor and (Y/n) are reunited with Amy and Rory when all of them find themselves in the custody of the Daleks with an impossible task before them.

Author's Note: Wouldn't be one of my OCs if I didn't randomly jump around the timeline a lot. If there's a season that you want to see next, let me know and I'll see what I can do!

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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

I warned the Doctor about going to meet the women who wanted to save her daughter.

After all that we went through, it just seemed a little too perfect. Someone being able to send him a message and begging for help just after we avoid true death? I had trouble trusting it.

But he wanted to talk to her. He thought that he needed to.

I went with him for the sake of safety.

We met her on Skaro. The original planet of the Daleks.

She told us the story of Hannah. Her daughter who had been taken away to a Dalek prison camp. People had told her that we could help.

The Doctor noticed the same things that I did. The meeting place, how much she seemed to know about us, and the fact that she had left her daughter behind in the first place.

Mothers don't do that if they want to save or protect their child. They would rather burn the planet around them to the ground than be separated from them. At least, that's what I had learned from Amy.

Once the Doctor started asking too many questions, the woman was forced to reveal herself.

She hadn't escaped anything. She had merely been transformed.

Once the Doctor had been incapacitated, I went to take off running. Another person was already there and before I could truly make any progress, I was lying on the ground next to the Doctor.

When I came to, we were both in a cell.

"Good, you're awake!"

The Doctor pulled me off the floor. I blinked a few times, trying to get rid of whatever tiredness was still clouding my thoughts.

"How are you feeling," he asked.

"Angry and tired," I muttered.

"That's the spirit," he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

The doors slid open as he pulled away. Two Daleks rolled in.

"You will come with us," one of them instructed.

"Where are we going," I asked, not moving from my spot.

"The Doctor and (Y/n) will be reunited with their companions."

I felt a strong hit of fear strike my chest. They had gotten Rory and Amy too. This was the worst-case scenario.

"Move," the Dalek instructed again.

We were led down the hall. One Dalek was leaning in front of us, the other was behind us.

We made it to another cell. Amy and Rory were waiting for us just inside.

As soon as we were all inside, a hatch in the ceiling came undone and the platform we were standing on began to raise itself up.

A room. A circular room full of enough Daleks to fill up a few dozen lecture halls. Far more than they would need to take over a multitude of planets.

"Please, tell me this isn't what I think it is," I spoke to the Doctor quietly.

"What is it," Amy asked. "Spaceship, right?"

"Not just a spaceship," he explained. "The Parliament of the Daleks."

I closed my eyes for a moment. Some part of me wanted to believe that this was all some twisted dream. Another part of me knew very well that it wasn't, but facing the reality around us was too terrifying to contemplate.

We had just escaped death to be handed a death sentence.

I only opened my eyes because I heard the Doctor start telling them to take their shot. I was ready to slap him.

"Save us," the emperor spoke up.

"Excuse me?" I admittedly didn't think much before I snapped back at the creature.

"You will save the Daleks."

I scoffed. Another decision that I didn't think through properly.

The room began chanting at all of us. Just repeating the same three words over and over. Save the Daleks.

As the voices died down, The Doctor started pacing.

After a little while, I heard Amy and Rory mumbling to each other. I tried to pay it no mind, but it was difficult when the tension between them was more suffocating than the fear of being surrounded by Daleks.

I didn't mind the muttering until it turned to me.

"And (Y/n) is constantly glancing at us because they want to help us from whatever is wrong with us," Amy whispered. "'Oh no, Amy and Rory are clearly not alright, how are we going to fix that?'"

"Get better at hiding the tension if you don't want me worrying about you," I said bluntly.

She looked down for a moment.

"We have arrived," one of the Daleks announced.

"Arrived where," the Doctor asked.

"Doctor," the emperor said.

"The Prime Minister will speak with you now," the woman from our original meeting spoke up, motioning over to him.

The Doctor didn't move for a minute. When he did, he didn't turn to face their emperor- sorry- their Prime Minister. He moved over to me.

The Doctor stepped closer to me, taking my hand in his as he mumbled into my ear, "We don't have to do this, We could run-"

"Yes, we do," I cut the Doctor off as I looked at him. "They won't let us walk out of here if we don't."

I saw the sad look cross his eyes.

"I don't care if I die," I whispered. "But I will not be the reason that you or Amy or Rory die. I just won't."

He took a deep breath before kissing the side of my head and stepping back. He turned back to the Prime Minister.

He stopped by the woman. "Do you remember who you were before they emptied you out and turned you into their puppet?"

"My memories are only activated if they are required to facilitate deep cover or disguise."

"Look at that," I replied sarcastically. "We were important enough to switch the memories back on."

The Doctor continued approaching the Prime Minister. I took a few steps closer behind him. Quiet support more than anything else.

"What do you know of the Dalek asylum," the creature asked.

"According to legend, you have a dumping ground," he replied. "A planet where you lock up all the Daleks that go wrong. The battle-scarred, the insane, the ones even you can't control. Which never made any sense to me."

"Why not?"

"Because you'd just kill them."

"It is offensive to us to extinguish such divine hatred."

That statement made me sick to my stomach. I interrupted the Doctor, "Offensive?"

"Does it surprise you to know that Daleks have a concept of beauty?"

"No," I shook my head. "I am just surprised that after so long you can still find ways to be so disgusting. Hatred so beautiful that you have to keep hurt, scared creatures in a cage like a personal zoo? Such a fixation on the emotion that it makes you go against your entire purpose. Kill what's different."

The Doctor started walking down the ramp towards me.

"Perhaps that is why we could never kill either of you," the Prime Minister stated.

I was ready to stand and argue, but I didn't get the chance before a hole in the middle of the floor opened. We both walked over to it, looking down at the planet just underneath it.

"The asylum occupies the entire planet," the woman- Darla- explained. "Right to the core."

"How many Daleks are in there," the Doctor asked.

"A count has not been made," she answered. "Millions, certainly."

I was next to speak up, "All still alive?"

"It has to be assumed. The asylum is fully automated. Supervision is not required."

"Armed?" Amy looked over.

"A Dalek is always armed."

"What color?"

We all looked at Rory as the question came out of his mouth.

"Sorry, there weren't any good questions left."

"There's a signal being received from the very heart of the asylum," Darla explained. Just as she did, music began playing over the speaker.

"What is the noise," a Dalek yelled. "Explain! Explain!"

"It's me," the Doctor replied.

"Oh God," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Sorry, what?" Rory turned to us.

"I'm playing the triangle," the Doctor grinned, mimicking his motion.

"And hasn't one let me forget that fun fact," I added.

"Carmen," the Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his jacket and scanned the console that the Dalek had been using. "Lovely show."

I follow him back up the ramp. "Please tell me you're-"

"Tracking back the signal so we can talk to them," he finished my sentence for me.

"Dibs!" I shoved him out of the way. "Hello? Hello... Carmen?"

"Creative."

"Shut up," I muttered. "Hello! Come in, come in. Someone there?"

"Do you read me?" a voice rang out.

"Loud and clear," I replied, smiling properly for the first time since the trip had started. "Identify yourself and report your status."

"Hello," the voice said.

"Hello," I repeated.

"Are you real? Properly real?"

"Actually, properly real. Living, breathing, and bleeding if I am not careful."

"Oswin Oswald," she introduced. "Junior Entertainment Manager, Starship Alaska. Current status: crashed and shipwrecked somewhere... not nice. Been here a year, rest of the crew missing, provision's good but keen to move on."

"A year," I asked. "Are you okay? Under attack?"

"Some local life forms. Been keeping them out."

I looked at the Doctor, scared and confused by the story. "Know what they are?"

"I know a Dalek when I hear one, yeah," she replied.

"What have you been doing all alone, for a year? Against the Daleks?"

"Making soufflés."

I let out an amused huff. "soufflés."

"Where do you get the milk?" the Doctor butted in. I furrowed my eyebrows. It was a good question.

"This conversation is irrelevant." The Dalek did not agree with me. It shut off the signal.

"No, it isn't," the Doctor snapped back.

"Someone crashed into your asylum, meaning there's a big hole in whatever security you had," I joined in. "One thing gets in, millions can get out."

"Even you don't want that," the Doctor added.

"The asylum must be cleansed," the Dalek spoke.

"Then, why is it still here," the Doctor asked. "You have enough firepower to blast it out of the sky."

"They can't," I concluded. "The security that they put on the planet won't allow it. That's why we're here."

"The asylum's forcefield is impenetrable," Darla stepped forward. "And can only be turned off from the inside."

The Doctor went walking down the ramp again. "A small task force could sneak in. Send a couple of Daleks."

He paused halfway down the ramp, noting the silence in the room.

"Oh," he mumbled. "That's good. They're too scared to go down there. What do the Daleks do when they're too scared."

To put it very simply, they were going to launch all of us into a planet. They gave us these bracelets that fended off the nanocloud, which would turn everything that wasn't Dalek into... Dalek. Once we made it down, it was our job to figure out how to shut off the forcefield so they could destroy it.

We were led back to the opening in the floor, where a gravity beam was waiting for us. I reached over and grabbed the Doctor's hand. He rubbed a circle into the skin of my hand with his thumb.

"Ready," I asked.

"Are we ever," he grumbled back to me.

I was hoping to get a chance to jump into the gravity beam on my own. We didn't. Instead, we were all pushed into it.

My next memory was lying in the snow. I groaned as I pushed myself up. I looked around at my surroundings. There was nothing there that I could make any sense of.

I jumped when music started playing next to me. I looked down at an eyestalk looking at me. I moved to lay on my stomach in front of it.

"Oswin?" I called.

"Sorry!" she replied. "I pressed the wrong switch. You okay?"

"I just got launched at a planet, but I could be worse," I shrugged. "How are you doing that? This is Dalek technology."

"It's very easy to hack."

"Respectfully, no, it really isn't. Where are you?"

"Somewhere underground... I think. Ship broke up when it hit. You coming to get me?"

"(Y/n)!"

I jumped at the sound of the Doctor's voice. The camera disappeared as soon as he spoke.

"Dammit," I mumbled, pushing myself to stand up.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Oswin," I replied.

"Soufflé girl?"

"She has a name."

"Doctor!" Amy came running at us from the other side of a hill.

The Doctor helped steady her.

"Where's Rory," he asked.

"There was another beam," the man pointed vaguely behind us all. He continued following us.

We found a hole in the ground. It was deep enough that we couldn't see the bottom.

The man from earlier led us to a hatch that he had been trying to get into. He explained that his team had come down two days ago and that there were twelve other escape pods.

"Alaska," Amy read out, looking down at the name printed on the ship. "That's the same as Soufflé Girl."

"Two days," I asked, looking at the man. He nodded before opening the hatch. "It can't be the same as her. She's been here a year."

We all followed him down.

"There should be some climbing rope long enough for that hole," he explained.

I stepped around one of the seats when I spotted a hood. I leaned down only to be met with a skeleton sitting in the seat. Can't be merely two days old. It couldn't have been.

"Won't you introduce us to your crew," the Doctor asked. I grabbed his arm and stepped as close as possible. "What?"

"They're dead," I mumbled. "That... That one is a skeleton. They can't be two days old."

"Guys, this is the Doctor, Amy, and (Y/n)," the man introduced us. Nothing. I stepped a little further back from the seats. "Guys?"

The Doctor stepped forward, tapping the one I had seen on the shoulder. Its head rolled back, revealing the skeleton. The Doctor checked all of them. With the sonic screwdriver for some reason... they were skeletons, he didn't need to use the screwdriver. They were all dead.

"That's not possible," the man argued. "I just spoke to them. Two hours ago. We were doing engine repairs."

"I'm sorry, but there was no way that's possible. They've been dead a long time."

"Of course," he muttered. "Stupid me. I died outside. The cold preserved my body."

I stepped closer to the ladder, hoping to be ready to run from the man.

Then, an eyestalk started to protrude out of his forehead. "I forgot about dying."

The Doctor grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall and sprayed it at the man. Amy hit the button next to the door, only shutting it once the man was secured on the other side.

"How'd he get all... Daleked," Amy asked.

"He didn't have a bracelet," I explained. "Nanocloud."

"Microorganisms that automatically process any organic matter, dead or alive, into a Dalek puppet."

"Anything that attacks the asylum immediately becomes on-site security. We've seen the interesting abilities of nano-tech."

"Living or dead?" Amy said. I paused, eyes going wide as I looked around the room.

"The wristbands protect us," the Doctor continued rambling. "The only thing keeping us from going completely-"

"Doctor, shut up," she cut him off. "Living or dead?"

"Yes, exactly, living or..."

The bones of the skeletons started cracking as the creatures stood up. The Doctor took off over the tops of the chairs once he noticed. I mostly followed his lead.

We only had true trouble once one of the creatures had caught Amy's wrist. The door slamming shut was enough to get the thing to let go.

The two of them leaned against the door while I stood across from them.

"Unauthorized personnel may not enter the cockpit," a familiar voice rang out over the intercom in the room.

"Oswin!" I jumped a bit. "I lost you back there, you alright?"

"I'm fine, just lost the signal."

The Doctor moved around me, taking a seat at the console, where a camera was pointed at us.

"Oi, Mr. Grumpy, don't get too close," she said. "Ooo, bad combo. No sense of humor and that chin."

I bit the inside to keep from laughing, even though I heard Amy chuckle behind me.

"What is wrong with my chin," the Doctor asked. He looked over at me.

"Nothing," I promised.

"Careful, don't poke their eye out."

I couldn't stop the laugh that came out of my mouth.

"(Y/n)," he whined.

"Sorry, sorry," I held my hands up. "I think your chin is... very handsome."

"I'm scanning you," Oswin informed us. "You're in another of the escape pods from the Alaska. It seems your power's on."

"How are you hacking into everything," I asked. "That should be impossible."

"Long story," she said simply. "There a word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and a tiny bit sexy?"

I chuckled. "Not that I know off the top of my head, sorry."

"What's your name again?"

"(Y/n)."

"That'll work."

I let out a stunned scoff. "Oswin!"

"What?!"

"I am in a very committed relationship," I explained.

"With the chiny one?"

I had to hold back the laugh that wanted to escape.

"Is it him?"

"Yeah, it's him," I replied.

"Aw, cute," she gushed. "I was hoping it was the redhead."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I saw the Doctor's frown and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. He let a small grin cross his lips.

There was a beep on her hand. "Check the floor. I'm picking up a breach at floor level. There could be a way out. See you later!"

There had been a hatch on the floor. There was a rope going down into wherever it led. Someone else's escape route.

"This must go straight down to the asylum," the Doctor muttered as he unlocked the hatch.

"Where Rory is," Amy replied.

"Speaking of Rory," I started. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

"Are we going to do this now," she asked.

"What happened?" I countered.

"Just stuff, you know. We split up. What can you do?"

"What can I do," the Doctor mumbled, looking at her.

"Nothing," she explained. "it's not one of those things that you can fix like your bow tie."

The Doctor looked down again.

"Oh, don't give me those big, wet eyes, raggedy man. It's life. Just life. That thing that goes on when you two aren't around. We don't all get to end up traveling all of time and space with our true loves."

I felt a sting of guilt in my chest. I had always known that the Doctor and I were the exception. But Rory and Amy were each other's person. They were stuck together by the universe. They couldn't get away from each other if they tried.

I had grown to see them as an example of sorts.

I looked back at Amy. Maybe she saw us the same way.

There was a rope ladder going all the way to the bottom.

"Someone else got out this way," Amy noted.

"Let's go and find them," the Doctor muttered. He ran to the camera by the door.

They were holding up one of the bracelets. Amy's bracelet.

"Amy," the Doctor whispered.

"What's going to happen to me," she asked. "Seriously? Tell me. What?"

The Doctor didn't reply. Instead, he ran off to the ladder, leading the way down. I let Amy go before me. I followed right behind them, pulling it shut behind me.

"So, what's going to happen to me," she pushed again. "And don't lie. Because I know when you're lying to me and I will definitely fall on you."

"The air all around is full of micro-machines," the Doctor explained. I was stunned that he answered at all. "Robots the size of molecules. Nanogenes. Now that you're unprotected, you're being rebuilt."

By that point, we had made it to the bottom. Granted, by that point, we had already had this conversation at least four times.

"So what happens? I get one of those things sticking out of my head?" she continued.

"Physical changes come later," the Doctor grabbed her hand, pulling her along with us.

"What comes first? How does it start?"

"Your mind. Your feelings, your memories. And I'm sorry but it's already started."

"How do you know?"

"This is the fourth time we've had this conversation."

"I'm scared now."

"Hang onto that," I told her. "Scared isn't Dalek. Hold onto anything that isn't Dalek."

The door opened in front of us.

There was a smell coming from the room.

"What's that," Amy asked.

The Doctor closed the door again. "Stay right there. Don't open this door."

"Oswin," I yelled. "Can you hear me?"

"Hello (Y/n) and the Chin, I have visual on you," she replied. "(Y/n) and the Chin. You two could start a band."

"Why exactly don't we have a visual on you," the Doctor spoke up. "Why can't I ever see you?"

"Limited power, bad hair, take your pick," she explained. "There's a door to your left. Open it."

I looked to my left and went to the door. "Alright."

The door slid open to reveal a small screen.

"I'm going to send you a map to that screen," she explained.

I nodded and stepped inside. "Ready when you are, Oswin."

"Oh, your friend is safe. I can get you to him."

"You found Rory," I asked.

"Yup," she confirmed. "Well, I call him Nina. Personal thing."

I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment before focusing on the screen again.

I watched as she typed away. I followed the map that she was using to guide us. I heard the door open.

"How many Daleks are right ahead of us," I asked.

"Ten, twenty," she estimated. "Some are catatonic, but they do have firepower."

"Doctor," I tried to whisper-shout at him. "Where's Amy?"

He turned around and ran into the room that we had been avoiding earlier. She was standing in the middle.

"How do we get past them," I turned back to Oswin.

The Doctor and Amy shoved their way into the closet with me.

"Okay then," I gasped as I was shoved into the wall.

The sounds just outside the door powered down. The two of them stepped out first and I awkwardly followed.

"It's damaged," the Doctor said.

"Okay, but what do we do," Amy asked.

"Identify me," he turned to the Dalek. "Access your files. Come on."

"You are the Predator," the Dalek spoke.

"Access your standing orders concerning the Predator."

"The Predator must be destroyed!"

"And how are you going to do that? the Doctor stepped forward. "A Dalek without a gun? You're a tricycle with a roof. How are you going to destroy me?"

"Self-destruct initiated," the Dalek shouted.

"What's it doing," Amy asked.

"Destroying the Predator," I explained.

The Doctor lifted the Dalek's hood.

"Self-destruct cannot be countermanded," the Dalek said.

"I wasn't looking for countermand," the Doctor replied. "I'm looking for reverse."

The Dalek proceeded to roll backwards into the large room. It exploded, taking out the other Daleks with it.

We had all been thrown backward.

I shoved myself off the floor. The Doctor picked up a now unconscious Amy and followed me. Rory was standing on the other side of the room.

"Where have you been," I asked.

"Oswin put me in a- a room," Rory pointed behind him. "Is Amy alright?"

"Just unconscious," I explained. "Where's the room?"

He led us into some other room off to the side. The Doctor placed Amy down and we all waited for her to wake up. While we did, the Doctor explained the situation of the stolen bracelet.

"Will the sleeping help her," Rory asked. "Slow down the process?"

"You'd better hope so," Oswin's voice filled the room. "Because pretty soon, she's going to try and kill you."

Amy woke up a moment later, groaning as she did, "Ow."

"Hey," the Doctor said. "Still with us?"

"Amy, it's me," Rory grinned at her. "Do you remember me?"

She reached up and slapped him as soon as the words left his mouth.

"I'd take that as a yes," I advised.

"Same old Amy," the Docter mumbled.

"Do you know how you make someone into a Dalek," Oswin asked. She was quieter now. Like she was scared. "Subtract love, add anger. Doesn't she seem a bit too angry to you?"

"Well, somebody's never been to Scotland," Amy replied, pushing herself up.

"Oswin," I said. "How are you... okay? Why hasn't the nanocloud converted you?"

"I mentioned the genius thing, yeah?" she explained. "Shielded in here."

"Clever of you," I muttered, trying to ignore the nervousness in my stomach. Hope. If I needed one thing right now, it was hope. "Now, the Daleks said that this place was fully automated. But it's a wreck."

"I've had nearly a year to mess with them and not a lot else to do."

"A junior entertainment manager hiding out in a wrecked ship, hacking the security systems of one of the most advanced warrior race the universe has ever seen," the Doctor spoke up as he was scurrying around the room. "But you know what gets me about you, Oswin? The soufflés."

"The soufflés," Amy asked.

"Where do you get milk for the soufflés?"

He turned to the rest of us.

"Seriously, is no one else wondering about that?"

I didn't want to admit that I had found it easier to ignore it. I merely looked down. Rory shut it down more bluntly than I had.

"So, Doctor," Oswin piped up. "I've been looking you up. And you, (Y/n). You're all over the database. Why do the Daleks call you the Predator? Why are you lot such a threat?"

"Not a predator, just a man with a plan," the Doctor replied.

"You've got a plan?"

"In no particular order," the Doctor explained, "we need to neutralize all the Daleks in the asylum, rescue Oswin from the wreckage, escape from the planet, and save Amy and Rory's marriage."

"Alright, I'm counting three lost causes, anyone else," Amy asked.

"Oswin, there's a Dalek ship in orbit," the Doctor said.

"Yeah, got it on the sensors," she replied.

"The asylum has a forcefield. The Daleks are waiting for me to shut it off. As soon as I do, they'll burn this whole world and us with it. So, my question for you is this, how fast can you drop the forcefield?"

"Pretty fast."

"Good. This is a teleport, am I correct?"

"Yeah. Internal use only."

"I can boost the power once the force field is down. And we can use it to beam us right off this planet," the Doctor explained, messing with the teleport.

"But you said that when the forcefield is down, the Daleks will blow us up," Rory pointed out.

"That's why we have to be quick," I spoke up.

"Fine, we'll be quick, but where do we beam to," Amy asked.

"The only place within range. The Dalek ship," the Doctor answered.

"They'd exterminate us on the spot," Amy said.

"We'd survive four seconds longer," Rory agreed.

"What's wrong with four seconds," the Doctor smirked. "You can do loads in four seconds."

"Oswin, how fast can you drop the forcefield?" I called.

"I can do it from here," she explained. "As soon as you come and get me."

"Why don't you drop the forcefield and come to us," I asked.

"There's enough power in that teleport for one go," she replied. "Why would you wait for me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"No idea, never met you," she said. "I'm sending you a map so you can come and get me."

"(Y/n)," the Doctor grabbed my arm as I went to run over. I yanked my arm away.

"I'm going to do this," I told him bluntly. "Stay here. Keep them safe. If we don't make it in time, then I want you to go. Got it?"

He stared at me for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Make it back."

"I plan to," I smirked a bit before looking at the map. As I took off, I turned back to him. "I love you!"

"Love you too!" I heard him say behind me.

I stepped out into the hall.

I could hear banging and the sounds of Daleks screaming various threats and promises. They only got louder as I rounded the corner. I took a deep breath as I continued moving.

It was terrifying.

The closed walls, the sound of Daleks yelling. It was all so familiar. I could vividly see myself back in that little box that I had known for far too long. The practice scenarios where I would be faced with almost exactly this situation.

I tried to block out those memories. I had other things to focus on at the moment.

In a more relative sense, it had been going well. I hadn't been met with any loss Daleks and I was close to where I needed to be.

"Oswin," I said quietly. "I think I'm close."

"You are," she replied. "Less than twenty feet away. Which is the good news."

"And the bad?"

"You're about to pass through intensive care."

"Oh, great," I muttered, taking another deep breath.

The door slid open.

It was quiet. Daleks were lined up in cages, all dormant. The lights were off.

"Why are they here," I asked.

"Don't know. Survivors of particular wars. Spiridon, Kembel, Aridius, Vulcan, Exxilon. Ringing any bells."

I felt like the air was being forced out of my lungs. I was being strangled without anyone else around. My legs felt shaky as if my knees were prepared to give out at any given moment. And my head. My head hurt and was swirling with a thousand thoughts and memories.

And all I could was keep walking.

"Yeah," I answered, pausing to look at one of them. "These are the Daleks of the Time War."

I wanted to vomit.

"I was supposed to stop it. I couldn't."

I heard one of the Daleks coming to life behind me. "Savior."

"I'm sorry, what did it call you?"

"Nothing," I replied. "A name that I gave up a long, long time ago."

More Daleks started to wake up. I walked away, hoping to get out of the room as fast as possible.

"Oswin, there's a door but it won't open," I said. "They can't be far away now."

"Hold on. There's a release code, but I just need to find it. Is there anything happening out there?"

"No. But I don't like the silence any more than the yelling."

I heard chains rattling behind me. My breathing spiked again.

"Oswin!"

"Just a second!"

I heard the snapping of chains and my name being yelled again. I pressed my back to the door, putting as much distance between me and the approaching Daleks as I could. None of them seemed to have guns, so I should have been safe.

I closed my eyes, curling in on myself.

And then, it stopped.

All of it just froze.

"Oh, that is cool," I heard Oswin say as the Daleks turned around and moved away from me. "Tell me, I'm cool."

"What did you do," I asked.

"Hang on, I think I found the door thingy-"

"No, I need to know what you just did," I cut her off.

"The Daleks have a hive mind. Well, not really, it's more of a telepathic web."

"And?"

"I hacked into it," she explained. "Did a master delete on all the information connected with the Savior or (Y/n). Including information about the Doctor and your friends."

I let out a breathy laugh at the idea, tears filling my eyes. "You made them forget me."

"Good, huh," she asked. "And here comes the door."

"The Doctor has tried hacking into the path web before. He could never find a way to do it. I never even tried because of how much security they've got on it."

"Come and meet the woman who can."

The door slid open behind me. I scrambled inside but froze just in the doorway.

"Hey, you're right outside," the voices were mixing together. One Oswin's and the other was... Dalek. "Come on in."

"Oswin," I said. I took a step forward. "We have a problem."

"No, we don't," she replied. "Don't even say that. I joined the Alaska to see the universe and crashed on my first trip. You're here. You can take me to see it all. Properly."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Does it look real to you? That little place you're in right now?"

"It is real."

"It's a dream," I said. "Your mind constructed a safe place for you. Reality got too terrible. Too scary."

Her voice disappeared. All that was left was the Dalek's. "Where am I?"

"They did a complete transformation on you," I explained. "You are... a Dalek."

"No, no, I'm not a Dalek. I'm human."

I stepped forward, gently touching the shell of the creature. "You were when you crashed. But they found you... you climbed out of that pod we found."

"I'm human."

"Not anymore. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

There was no answer.

"You're a genius. They need genius."

There was still no response.

"I am so sorry," I started walking backward, closer to the door. "The Doctor asked earlier, but you never had to answer. Where did you get the milk? And the eggs? For the soufflés?"

"Eggs..." the Dalek voice shot fear into my stomach.

"I'm sorry."

"Ex... term... i... nate."

"Oswin," I muttered, stepping further back.

"Exterminate!"

"Oswin, wait!"

I scrambled back toward the door as the chains snapped off.

"You don't have to do this! They turned you but look at what you've done so far! You are still good! You are still you! Oswin, please!"

The Dalek stopped just in front of me.

"Oswin?"

"Why do they hate you," she asked. "You and that man. Why do they hate you so much?"

"I fought them. With him. More times than I can count."

"We have grown stronger out of fear."

"I know. That's... That's part of why we tried to step away. Stop giving them a reason to be stronger."

"Run."

"What," I asked. "What did you say?"

"Run," she repeated. "I've taken down the forcefield. The Daleks have begun their attack. Run.

I blinked at her a few times. I couldn't think of what to say.

"Oswin-"

"I am Oswin Oswald. I fought the Daleks and I am human. Remember me."

I grinned at her. "Yeah. I will. Thank you."

"Run," she urged me. I nodded and turned around as I heard something start crumbling around me. "Go save that clever boy of yours... and remember."

I have never thought about how difficult it is to run while you're crying. It hinders every system you had. Eyesight and breathing and your sense of direction gets shot by the emotion.

It was a miracle that I made it to the teleport in time. I jumped into the Doctor, hugging his as tight as I could.

"You alright?"

"We don't have time," I shrugged it off as I stepped back. There was another rumble. "We have to go."

He nodded. He hit a button on his control panel.

The Daleks were panicking when we got there. We ended up inside the TARDIS, but we could still hear them worrying about being under attack.

"You guys should have seen this coming," the Doctor yelled. "The thing about me and teleports is that I have really good aim. Pinpoint accurate, in fact. Or, to put it another way..."

"Please don't," I begged, going to grab his arm.

"Suckers!"

He stepped out of the TARDIS before I could stop him. I followed him out. If I couldn't stop him, then I could be next to him when he got himself killed.

The Dalek yelled at us, "Identify yourself! Identify!"

"What," the Doctor asked. "You know me."

"She did it," I whispered.

"Who did what," the Doctor turned to me.

"We should go," I said.

The Dalek yelled again, "Identify yourself!"

"The Doctor... The Oncoming Storm-"

"Titles are not meaningful in this context. Doctor who?"

I let out a sharp, relieved breath at the question. And then at how the question spread like wildfire.

"Come on," I grabbed the Doctor's hand.

He didn't question me any further, just following me back inside as the Daleks continued yelling.

Our next stop after that was Rory and Amy's home. They stepped out, waving to us as we went.

As the TARDIS took off again, it felt like the adrenaline finally wore off, I felt the tears coming back to my eyes.

I covered my mouth, leaning forward a bit and laying my other hand on the railing. The sobs started long before I ever had a chance to stop them.

"(Y/n)?- Hey," the Doctor walked over. He reached out and touched my arm.

It was as if that made me snap back to my senses. I quickly wrapped my arms around him, hiding my face in his shoulder.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, hugging me back. He ran his hand up and down my back a bit. "What happened?"

"I was too late," I muttered. I leaned back, wiping my eyes as I did. The Doctor's hands touched my sides. "I... I found her, but they... they had done a complete transformation."

"The milk and eggs," he mumbled.

"She... She wasn't even aware of it," I continued. "That's why she thought she had all of this stuff. She really thought that she was still human. That she was just waiting so I could save her."

The Doctor leaned over to kiss my forehead before pressing his against mine. "There was nothing you could have done."

I didn't respond for a moment.

"(Y/n)..."

"She did something," I said. "She got into their telepathic web and... she deleted all of the information about you and me."

"Really?"

"She saved our lives. And all I gave her was false hope."

The Doctor pulled me into another hug. "I'd like to think you saved hers as well. In some way."

I closed my eyes.

"A new way of thinking can save someone more than we'll ever know."

I would love to think that he was right.

And maybe he was, but it would be a very long time before I accepted that possibility.

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

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#eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor fanfiction #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #matt smith x reader #matt smith fanfiction #matt smith imagine

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storytelling-timelord · 1 year

Text

Delusional

Summary: When you follow River off a building, you meet a new, old friend.

Paring: River Song x Reader, 11th Doctor x River Song (mentioned), 11th Doctor x Reader x River Song (possible)

WC: 700

A/N: Do you ever just get an idea and you have to write it? No matter if it’s 1 am and it’s not the soundest idea but it’s an idea and it’s something and you haven’t posted in months and you aren’t sure if anyone is actually going to read this or not but you finally wrote something? That was me, then this was born. Enjoy.

P.S.: I’m not tagging anyone on this bc I’m working on a new tag system/update blog so if you’re wanting to know when I post, be on the look out for that :)

---

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s why you love me.”

She has a point. And damn was that a good point.

“Trust me Sweetie, stay with me for too long and you’ll find out just how delusional I am.” River winks at you. Her smile decorates her face beautifully as she takes your hand. With only mere seconds before the door to roof bursts open with most likely a lot of very large, angry men on power trips, she leaps off the building, gripping your hand tightly as you leap alongside her. River’s laugh carries through the air as you hold your breath, feeling her grip tighten as you close your eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

What a dumb question. “Of course I do.”

“Then we need to jump.”

“Jump? Off the building?”

“Right off, in about 10 seconds.”

You’d trust River with your life, you do trust her with your life. The only problem was the closer and closer the ground got, the more you wish you had her explain this delusional plan to you.

Then the next minute you were safe.

“You can open your eyes now, sweetie.” River’s words take a few moments to register in your brain before you allow one of your eyes to peak open, soon followed by another when you realize you’re fully laying on top of River who is laying on solid ground. At least, you thought it was ground.

With a quick look around your surroundings as you finally get off of the woman and stretch your hand out to help her, you realize you’re in a spaceship.

“Someone call for a pickup?” Your eyes scan for whoever just spoke and you almost come up empty until a bouncy bow tie wearing man pops out from behind whatever that big thing in the middle of the room is. His smile was wide as he looks between you and River.

River takes a deep breath and sighs happily when she’s finally on her feet. “Right,” she grins and walks over the room centerpiece, which are suspecting are the controls with the way River starts pulling and turning all the levers and the spaceship starts moving. “Y/N, this is the Doctor. Doctor, this is Y/N.”

The Doctor was barely able to spare you another glance before he starts trying to shoo River away from the controls. “We’ve met.” He says simply and offers you a quick smile.

You furrow your brows. Surely, you’d remember someone like him and someplace like this. “No, we haven’t.”

The Doctor pauses, looks at you and smiles. “Oh right. Well, never mind then!” You didn’t know what to make of his comments but the name did bring some familiarity.

“The Doctor?” River and The Doctor both hum a yes as you lean against the door behind you, crossing your arms. “So, you’re the Timelord then?” Again, both hum a yes. “So, you’re my girlfriend’s husband?”

There was only one hum this time from River as she kept herself from laughing. The Doctor stood up straighter, his arms falling to his sides and you could see he didn’t really know what to say exactly. You were trying to keep from laughing yourself at his expression before River slaps him on the arm.

“You told her that?” The Doctor whispers but it was pointless as he was quite the loud whisperer.

“I tell her everything.” River shrugs, looking up at you through her lashes with a smirk. “Besides, she’s read my book.”

The Doctor didn’t really know what to say to that. In the time he’s known you, he didn’t know exactly what you knew before you met him.

“Relax Doctor, I’ve been with River long enough to know this is just another part of the adventure.” You smile at River, watching her at the controls as she practically spins around the Doctor. The Doctor hasn’t looked away from you. He was shifting his jaw, his lips lightly lifting up fondly in the corners as he lets River steer you three wherever it was she wanted to go. And he would follow the two of you anywhere.

#River song x reader #River song imagine #river song fanfiction #river song blurb #River song #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh Doctor imagine #eleventh doctor fanfiction #eleventh doctor blurb #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x river song x reader #Doctor who x reader #Doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfiction #Doctor who

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fizzyxcustard · 10 months

Text

Never.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairings: Eleventh Doctor x OC

Warnings: Angst, insecurity, sadness, smut, first person POV

Summary: Sarah has been travelling with the Doctor and has fallen madly in love with the Time Lord. Will their feelings finally get the better of them?

Comments/Notes: I wrote this fic around 2014/15 and it is currently up on my AO3 page for reading, but I thought I would try it here and see how it goes. This is part 1 of 5, in a series called 'Cup of Tea and Jammie Dodgers'.

Currently I am keeping the tag list for this series completely separate from my main Follow Forever tag list, so if you'd like to be added to this tag list for Doctor Who, please let me know.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

It didn’t matter how many times I tried to convince myself that he could love someone like me, I knew he never would. I was a mere human, nothing special, nothing fantastic. A man like him deserved an exotic woman from a distant planet who could match him mentally with her expertise in time travel and higher than average IQ. I couldn’t deliver on any of that. I was just a mediocre, run of the mill woman from central England.

The Doctor had come into my life quite by accident. He’d been the one to pick me up from a dark place and took me to the stars – literally. Over the time we’d travelled together in the TARDIS, he’d spoke of his previous companions and all of them seemed to have something to offer. But I just couldn’t see at all what had called him to take me to other worlds. Maybe I should have asked him as it was something I’d never brought myself to ask.

The last two or three days I’d tried my best to keep myself to myself while I let this confusion in my head unfold. Each day I’d retire quite early to the library or pool and so far he hadn’t really noticed. He was his usual self: bouncy, child-like, but always had that all too familiar sadness sitting behind his eyes. I’d only seen him cry once, but he’d smiled through the tears, pretending that he was being silly. But, to me, he’d never be silly. He was the most amazing man I’d ever known, and I’m sure everyone else that had met him thought exactly the same. So...why would I be any different?

The TARDIS, so far, had been big enough for me to hide. But not anymore. I was sat beside the pool, listening to my own thoughts, when I heard a gentle calling of my name. And there he was, stood in the doorway. When I first met him he hadn’t been the kind of man I’d have fallen for; he was boyish in his appearance with floppy hair, continuous hand gestures and a mad bowtie. Behind that and he was so much more. He was freedom, hope and a reason to live life expectantly. Since stepping on board the TARDIS, I woke up awaiting the wonder of a new world or the echoes of someone’s forgotten past.

He placed a freshly brewed cup of tea and a packet of Jammie Dodgers on the table beside me. His shoes squeaked on the tiles as he spun on his heel and sat on the edge of the recliner next to me.

“You don’t look dressed for swimming,” he said softly, looking at my attire of jeans and blouse.

“You never know what I might have hiding under here,” I laughed, looking down at my blouse, but as soon as I’d let the words fall off my lips, I realised my stupidity. I’d never been one to talk provocatively, no matter how hard I tried.

The Doctor let his expression gradually turn to a sad smile as he seemingly forgot my comment. Maybe he hadn’t seen the innuendo of it.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked. “I had noticed even though you always tell me I don’t seem to notice anything.”

I sighed and shifted awkwardly in my seat. I wanted to tell him so badly how I felt. Every time I caught sight of him and I felt the butterflies set up residence in my stomach. I’d always been so guarded when it came to men and allowing myself to fall for them. There were still old scars inside me which hadn’t quite healed over completely. One of these scars was due to an old fiancée who had fallen out of love with me. He’d grown distant from me, finding more happiness in the company of others until he broke the relationship off. Maybe he hadn’t been the one so to speak, but he made me feel like I fit in with everyone else. With him and I could tell everyone that someone loved me. I could be like all my old co-workers and ex-school friends who I accidentally bumped into on the street. With the Doctor...oh, it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Unknowingly, he’d taken me from that need to be ordinary and like everyone else, transforming me into something else. I was different now. I travelled through time and space with a mad man in a blue box. What was normal about that?

How could I just let everything spill out? I suddenly felt hot and flustered. I needed to run.

I got up from my seat quickly, ignoring his protests for me to come back. The tears began to fall down my cheeks and a lump rose in my throat.

Suddenly I felt his hand around my arm and I was turned quickly, although not forcefully.

I looked into his eyes, those deep set eyes that had become so beautiful to me. Gradually I backed up against the wall, but he stepped forward, keeping the distance between us minimal.

My heart thundered in my chest and I looked down, unable to keep eye contact. “You’re playing with me,” I said sternly. “Stop it!”

“Somehow I believe you’re the better one at teasing,” he replied. His eyes had grown darker with something I couldn’t, in that moment, admit to seeing there. I just couldn’t admit it to myself that he might possibly feel something for me.

Then he raised his hand and cupped my cheek, his thumb gently rubbing away the one tear that had clung there. “My dearest Sarah,” he whispered. “You just don’t see it. None of it. You think beauty lies in the constellations, nebulas and galaxies. But I see all of that when I look in your eyes.”

“You chose me to travel with you, but why? Everyone else that you’ve had as a companion has had more about them...”

“Shhhh,” he said, growing agitated. “There’s a reason for each one of you passing through those doors. The TARDIS knows who I need, and she chose you for me, Sarah.”

How could he speak to me like this when he was married to River Song? Did Time Lords have a twisted idea of marriage and then sneak off with concubines? He was confusing me, and I think he sensed that.

“Doctor, you’re married to River. Why do you think I’ve kept away from you?” I asked, moving aside and out of the door. “How can I stand in front of the man I love day after day and know nothing can ever come of it? I age and die, you regenerate. It’s as though life enjoys playing sick games with you.”

I dashed down the corridor, trying to find my way back towards my room, but each and every time I attempted to get away, I kept coming back to the entrance to the pool. The Doctor stood there with his arms crossed.

“You know how the TARDIS works, Sarah. Don’t keep running away. You need to face up to problems in your life rather than keep running,” he told me.

“Oh, you’re a fine one to say that to me seeing as you took me from home!” I shouted. “You run from your past every day, Doctor. And you stand there preaching to me about it.”

I could see the frustration growing on his face and with no other words spoken he approached me quickly, and kissed me.

I tried to pull away but he had his hands on my cheeks, keeping me against him. As his lips moved, I knew I couldn’t keep the running routine up. He weakened me and I stood there completely defenceless, responding to his kiss. My arms wound around his waist and I groaned beneath our locked lips.

Gradually we parted, our breaths heightened.

He smiled at me and then pressed his forehead against mine. “Never think you’re unimportant. Never!”

The Doctor excused himself from my company a short time later, promising to come and see me once he’d taken care of some calculations and such in the main console room.

I took a quick swim and then had a shower, washing all of the chlorine out of my hair. But all the way through I couldn’t take my mind off the Doctor. Smiles kept coming out of nowhere and I must have looked like a lunatic to anyone watching. However, I knew I needed to learn of his intentions. Where would any kind of relationship go from here? Or would it be nigh on impossible. For today I needed to forget it all and just enjoy the moment. Living in the moment for the sheer fun of it was something I’d never been able to do. My mind had always been locked on the future, stressing about the what ifs and maybes of life.

After the shower, I returned to my room only to find that the single bed which was against the wall had now turned into a double, centred amongst the simple furnishings.

What on earth was the TARDIS doing? I’d been told countless times how she needed to be sure of a person and only allowed those on board who were important and integral to the Doctor’s travels. What was the reason behind my presence?

I stepped further into the room and slipped a hand down onto the crisp, white bed sheets. A tingle shot up my back making me shiver. The Doctor... and me...in this bed.

The door shut behind me and as I turned I saw him. His tweed jacket was missing and his shirt sleeves were rolled up.

“Been busy?” I asked.

“Not as busy as I’d like to be,” he replied. “I think you’ll make sure I have my work cut out for me.”

One thing I knew was for certain: if I made love to him here, tonight, things would never be the same for me. I couldn’t let this be a one night stand. My heart was his, completely. But was his heart mine?

“Doctor,” I whispered. “I can’t.”

He smiled at me. “I know you enough by now to know why. Truth is, I know I’m married to River, but my heart...or hearts,” he began. He stopped and chuckled. “My hearts aren’t there. I care for River but not in the same way I care for you. In my last regeneration, I felt this way for someone else.”

“Rose?” I asked. I knew it was her. Sometimes the way he spoke about her made everything so clear. She’d been his first love. He’d speak about other companions from his last regeneration like Martha and Donna, but the regret and sadness wasn’t present in his voice like when he mentioned Rose. His previous companions from this regeneration, Amy and her husband, Rory, had been his best friends, sharing in so many of his trials and triumphs. Where I fit in, I didn’t quite know.

“But...I’m different, Sarah. In this form I have my memories, but the feelings disappear...some of them.”

“You said that you left a clone of yourself with Rose so she’d never be without you. How am I supposed to walk away from all of this without you? And I mean you as you are now.”

“Isn’t it better to taste love once even if it’s not meant to last, than never taste it at all?” he asked me.

All reason and control left me and I leaned up to kiss him.

My hands wound up in his hair as his drifted down me, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. I couldn’t help but let out a groan, momentarily feeling embarrassment, but that soon dissipated as I found myself being disrobed.

His lips inspected me carefully, inch by inch as we made sure no more clothing could get in the way. And shortly after, we lay amongst the fresh covers. He was leaning over me, kissing my neck passionately. I’d never seen him so primal and unrestricted.

I couldn’t help but arch my back as his lips travelled down my body, until he came to my inner thigh and it was then that I called out into the air.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” I said, trying to get the words out coherently between the feelings which were bombarding me.

He never spoke but instead began kissing back upward, seemingly not missing an inch. And as his face came in front of mine, I took his lips back against mine but felt him enter me at the same time in one swift movement. On instinct and in shock I groaned under the kiss, and then he reciprocated.

We began to thrust against one another, matching one another’s movements and as we did, he took my hands in his. I could feel the ascension to my orgasm beginning and it became so quick the harder we pulsed into one another, until finally, I felt that last turbulent wave hit me. Whilst the orgasm pulsed through me, the Doctor groaned against my neck, signalling his release.

Breathlessly, he withdrew and lay beside me.

We let our breaths come back to normal before the Doctor reached over and began tickling me. Instantly I laughed, pulling away, but he came almost on top of me, attacking me with his hands. My insides hurt as I laughed over and over, until I found a way to get at him.

I lunged forwards, still giggling and began tickling him back in retaliation. His laughter filled the room until we settled down to sleep.

I woke to find that the space next to me had become vacant and the Doctor’s clothes had disappeared. Sighing, I got up, re-dressed and decided to take a walk down to the console room. Maybe he was in there, hovering over leavers and gauges...as per usual.

This time the TARDIS allowed me to walk smoothly into the console room, where I found him. I stayed by the door, watching him grinning like a happy child and hopping around the system, chattering away. Now that I’d experienced what it was like to not only travel with the Doctor, but allow him in, I knew I’d never be the same again.

***

Doctor Who tag list: @asgardianhobbit98 @bookworm-with-coffee

#Doctor Who #Eleventh Doctor #Fanfiction #Doctor Who Fanfiction #Eleventh Doctor x OC #11th Doctor x OC #Eleventh Doctor x Original Female Character #11th Doctor x Original Female Character #Matt Smith #Eleventh Doctor Fanfiction

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go-to-the-mirror · 6 months

Text

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationships: Eleventh Doctor & Dream Lord (Doctor Who), Eleventh Doctor & The Doctor's TARDIS

Characters: Eleventh Doctor (Doctor Who), The Doctor's TARDIS, Dream Lord (Doctor Who)

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Dreams, Background Rory Williams, Mentioned Amy Pond (Doctor Who), Mentioned Sister of Mine (Doctor Who), Mirrors, Episode: s05e07 Amy's Choice, Post-Episode: s05e07 Amy’s Choice, Title from a Tally Hall Song, No Beta We Die Like Rory, Implied/Referenced Sex

Language: English

Published: 2023-10-16

Words: 761

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He could almost think he was imagining it in the reflection of the control panel, his own paranoia playing off what he’d just dreamed, but this is a full body view and the face staring back at him is not his own. --- After “Amy’s Choice” the Dream Lord isn’t gone. --- Written for Whumptober 2023. Prompt used is “Leave me alone.”

Mirrors are not exactly the Doctor’s friend.

He really has no idea what he was thinking when he trapped — what was it called, the sister? — in the mirror. Probably something about righteous fury and avenging all who died because he ran and hid.

She looks at him through a dead girl’s eyes, but she’s not who he’s looking at. He could almost think he was imagining it in the reflection of the control panel, his own paranoia playing off what he’d just dreamed, but this is a full body view and the face staring back at him is not his own.

“What are you doing here?” he mutters, just as Rory enters.

“You invited me!”

The Doctor spins around to face him. “Rory!” He smiles brightly and puts his arm around Rory’s shoulders. “How are you, has Amy decided where to go next?”

“She says she wants to rest for a bit.”

“More rest?” the Doctor asks. “You’d think we’ve slept enough.”

“Apparently it wasn’t restful enough?” Rory answers, seemingly as confused as the Doctor regarding his fiancée’s antics. “But afterwards she’s thinking Rio?”

The Doctor grins. “Rio! Lovely place. Tell her she makes good choices.”

“I will,” Rory says with a smile. The Doctor waits for him to leave, then turns back to face the mirror.

It’s just him. Just him and a little girl holding a balloon, but she’s par for the course.

---

“Why are you all fixed?” the Doctor asks his TARDIS. She’s the only one to talk to, really, with Rory and Amy sleeping, probably in heavy quotation marks, but he’s not good at that sort of thing. “You’re always in need of repairs when I’m busy, but when I need something to do, suddenly you’re in tiptop shape!”

The TARDIS feels something that the Doctor could perceive as self-satisfied.

“It’s inconsiderate, frankly. First you give us shared dreams that feed on our insecurities, self-loathing, and darkness, and now you’re not even a little bit broken.

“Well,” the Doctor reconsiders. “Technically you are broken, but I’m not fixing that, it’s lovely.”

The Doctor sits down cross-legged, leaning against the control panel. “Don’t tell Amy or Rory, but I’m a bit tired too.

“But I don’t want to go to sleep, I just…. I don’t. So I need you to quietly blow a fuse, or something, so I can do something with my hands.”

The TARDIS feels… concerned, he thinks. Concern is a difficult emotion, it feels all together too much like pity.

“I’ve already slept a lot today.”

Annoyance, now. It sort of twinges.

“Look, if I go to sleep now, I’m going to have a nightmare, and I’m going to feel worse than if I don’t sleep.”

Judgement? She feels judgmental. It’s hard to put a name on things sometimes. She definitely doesn’t think he’s right.

“Besides, they say you shouldn’t sleep after stressful events — don’t correct me.”

Ah, disapproval. It hurts, just a bit.

“You know, maybe you’re part of the reason why it fed off me, because it’s not just me in my head judging every choice I have.”

And now she’s hurt too.

The Doctor sighs. “Maybe you’re right. Just a quick nap, get my head back in order.”

She’s still hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

She forgives him, that’s clear, but the pain hasn’t gone away. The Doctor tries to ignore that little curdle of guilt inside his stomach.

---

“She’s the problem now?”

The Doctor looks up to see the Dream Lord standing over him. He looks smug.

“You’re in my dream now.”

“You noticed?”

The Doctor gets to his feet. “You’re just pollen.”

“I’m you,” the Dream Lord counters. “You can’t get rid of me.”

“If you’re me, get back inside my head.”

“You keep it all shut so tight, Doctor,” the Dream Lord says. “Like if you shove it down far enough you can pretend none of it’s real.”

“I don’t pretend it’s not real.”

“What did you tell Amy when she asked about your children, hm?”

The Doctor is silent.

“Did you tell her who killed them?”

“Leave me alone.”

“You didn’t. I know you didn’t, I’m the one who didn’t.”

“It wasn’t relevant—“

“And did you tell her what happened to the rest of them? To the rest of your companions? Abandoned, or a soldier. Abandoned and a soldier. Or dead. Is she prepared for the cost of travelling with you? Is Rory?”

“I’m going to do better this time.”

The Dream Lord laughs. It sounds too much like him. “And when you’re alone again, I’ll still be here, Doctor.”

#whumptober2023 #no.17 #leave me alone #doctor who #fic #my lonely writing #the dream lord #the dream lord fanfiction #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor fanfiction #episode: amy's choice #amy's choice #doctor who fanficton

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raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months

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A Little Paradox Never Hurt Nobody (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: It's been six months since Eleven joined you both, and it's safe to say things have escalated a little.

CW: smut, threesome, filthy stuff im so proud of this

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

See, the thing about Time Lords is that they are notoriously competitive. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time who both had (or was it has?) the same companion. Said companion was you. Said Time Lords were the Tenth and the Eleventh regenerations of the Doctor.

When the eleventh Doctor had spouted his way out of a portal and into the tenth’s console room, there had been rather a lot of shouting, a lot of confusion, and a lot of use of the word ‘paradox.’ Quite frankly, if you never heard that word ever again it would be far too soon.

After that, there was a lot of discussion around Eleven not being able to be there because he already knew how all this was going to go. All the things Ten had yet to live, Eleven had already been through and while it was general knowledge that one should not attempt to change one’s own past- one was not always able to control oneself if that particular opportunity should arise.

They’d tried pretty hard at first to figure out how to get him back. There was some ‘timey wimey’ reason as to why they couldn’t just use the TARDIS, and that had been about the extent of time and space travel knowledge you had, so you didn’t put any other suggestions in after that.

And so, Eleven was still with you six months later.

You didn’t know, of course, that Eleven still had you with him after Ten was due to regenerate in the future, not that you knew when that was, but what you also didn’t know until about a month into Eleven’s presence was that your relationship with Ten continued on with Eleven after a brief adjustment period. Fair enough.

And then Ten found out, and as they were both technically (but also not really) the same person, you ended up sleeping with them both. It had been their idea, though you were pretty sure that it had just sort of happened and they decided to take the credit.

Anyway, all this to say- Ten and Eleven knew how to play your body like a violin, and when they worked together it was as if they moved in tandem. It’s own kind of chaotic different to when they were feuding. They did that a lot too, to be fair.

Today it seemed as though they wanted to work as one. Riling you up every way they knew how. Lingering touches in bed, a hard squeeze on the way past you, whispered words of desire in corridors and spare rooms. Ten had rutted himself up against your thighs at some point and had unfortunately had to leave before he or yourself could finish- some urgent TARDIS thing.

Eleven had you pressed into the wall of his bedroom and had you grind yourself silly on his thigh. You’d not been able to get off, and Eleven had tutted when you’d whined that you needed more. You’d practically begged him, but he’d said no- “later, Petal.”

Things had continued on like that, teasing and close calls where whomever it was teasing you had to run for whatever reason.

Of course- they’d been planning it that way. The two of them, working together to get you as desperate as they possibly could so that when they finally had at you, you’d succumb to the pleasure with no thoughts left in your pretty little head.

“Oh, look at that,” Ten said from behind you, pinning your legs open with his own. You made some sort of sound- you weren’t even sure it sounded human. “Haven’t even been fucking into you for that long yet- already fucked dumb, love.”

Ten’s hands were wrapped around your waist, squeezing comfortingly as Eleven laid one hand on your knee and the other on your breast, flicking at the nipple while he fucked his hard cock into you over and over without mercy.

“Mm- she does, rather, doesn’t she?” Eleven commented, taking the hand on your breast to grab you by the chin and turn your face side to side. With your muscles so lax, you didn’t fight the motion, and Eleven wasn’t being rough with you anyway (yet) so it wasn’t a big deal. You whimpered, eyes screwing shut and head lolling against Ten’s shoulder. “Desperate little thing, aren’t you, love?”

You could barely form a response, tears welling as Eleven found a particularly good spot and rammed his cock into it repeatedly. Your muscles were non-existent by this point, having been eaten out twice and fingered to completion once on top of that as well. Ten had to keep your legs spread with his own, and he did so without complaint. Getting to see Eleven fuck you silly over the top of your shoulder was more than enough of an incentive for him.

On top of barely being able to form a response to anything your boys were saying, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so cockdrunk that nothing was registering for you except the deep thrusting of Eleven’s cock into your g-spot over and over like a mantra you never wanted to end.

And because you were unable to keep your eyes open for more than two seconds at a time, you didn’t notice Ten’s fingers trailing over your hips to rub at your clit. You felt it though, and Ten had to tighten his muscles to keep you from snapping your legs shut around Eleven’s hips.

“Oh, my darling,” Ten cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “I know, darling. I know, love. It’s so much. It’s too much. You can do it, oh yes, I know you can. You’re such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” It was all you could do to not start crying with the overstimulation.

And it wasn’t to say you didn’t feel good. You felt fucking amazing, so so good, but it was so much. So much pleasure firing through your nerve endings. You could feel how puffy and swollen your lips were stretched around Eleven and it only served to make you cry out louder.

“Hush now, dear,” Eleven said, pressing his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. You didn’t argue, whole body limp against their whims. Whatever they wanted, you would give it to them. Anything at all.

Eleven grinned breathily, and fucked up into you harshly, not seeming to care how fucked out you were in the slightest. You wriggled against the fingers on your clit, and clung to Ten as though he were your lifeline.

“There there,” Ten said softly, fingers rubbing tight little circles. “Oh, darling, oh yes, I know. He’s so mean to you, isn’t he? Mhm. Oh yes.”

Eleven grumbled though it evened out into a moan when your cunt fluttered around him. His head dropped forward, already mussed hair falling into a curtain in front of his eyes. He gave his hips a few especially hard rolls, and your eyes fazed out onto the ceiling above you.

“Oh, look at that, Doctor,” Ten said, cooing and shushing you comfortingly. “We thought she was fucked out before. Look at her now. Maybe we should give her a break, eh?”

Eleven grunted, hips rocking softly now for a moment, giving himself time to think on it.

“Nah, don’t think so,” Eleven replied, getting back into his rhythm.

Ten’s fingers revived their assault, rubbing against you with such ferocity that you were afraid you might actually combust. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body forced you to climax again, the pleasure bordering on pain with how intense it was. Your clit almost felt like it was burning- and yet you didn’t want it to stop. Ten shushed you gently, rubbing his nose along the shell of your ear and pressing kisses to your sweaty hair as your body spasmed between them.

Your cunt contracting harshly around Eleven forced him to cum, ropes of his seed painting inside you. The heat of them- warmer than a humans- filled you up so nicely that you were genuinely concerned under the foggy waves of pleasure that you might start crying.

Eleven rode his high out with your body, no care given for your poor overstimulated cunt, and finally when the last rolls of pleasure were done with him, he pulled himself out. He did so slowly, and you grimaced slightly at the tug of your puffy walls around him.

Eleven cooed and pressed a kiss to your cheek to placate you.

Ten let his legs slide down the bed, and yours followed accordingly, unable to hold themselves up for even another minute more. God, you were well and truly fucked. Literally, not figuratively (at the moment, anyway). You lolled back against him, nuzzling your cheek into his neck.

You hadn’t even noticed Eleven leave, but you definitely noticed him returning, towel in hand and water dripping off his face. Ah, he’d gone to clean up.

“Now, Ten, dearest, are you planning to fuck her before we all retire for the evening?” Eleven asked without much charm. He was just like that. You didn’t take offence. In fact, his crass command of language was one of the things that made you love him more. “Only asking in relation to clean up, of course.”

You could feel Ten hard against your backside, and you gave a half-hearted attempt to grind up against him. You were quite sore, but you wouldn’t say no if he wanted to use you.

“Can fuck ‘er tits if you like,” Eleven added, noting the way your legs subconsciously closed themselves. The ache was intense, but you considered it an added bonus to the pleasure you’d just been subjected to.

“Oh, big load of charming you are,” Ten scolded. “Blimey, you’re lucky I was there to lay the foundations for you both or you’d have had no chance.”

“Now, now, boys,” you said- the first words in a fair while to come out of your mouth and it was to stop them bickering. Even your voice sounded as though it had been thoroughly ravaged.

“Can I?” The Doctor asked, turning his attention back to you. One of his hands squeezed at your tit, and you swore you could feel the lust rolling off him in waves from that one action alone. You nodded tiredly. Of course, he could.

Ten leaned you forward so he could escape from behind you. Eleven took his spot without issue, pulling you up to sit against him rather than lay against him as you did with Ten.

Eleven brushed the hair behind your ear as Ten positioned himself in front of you. You looked up at his eager face, running a hand over his chest and down over his tummy to wrap around his upper thigh.

Just as you were about to let go and hold your breasts together for him, Eleven’s big, warm hands took their place, pressing against your skin, one forefinger flicking at a nipple quickly just to tease.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Ten breathed, dribbling some lube onto your tits. “So brilliant, love. Just like that- oh, yes- f-fuck.”

“Look at him,” Eleven whispered hotly into your ear. “Not even started yet and already stuttering.”

You let out a giggle of a whimper, and Ten’s hips started to rock against you. Your tired arms wrapped around the backs of his thighs, giving his ass a little squeeze.

Ten groaned, fucking your tits desperately. He wasn’t going to last long after having been teasing you and therefore himself as well all day, and it was barely another two minutes before his cock was starting to twitch and he started to moan with that lilt that he always did when he was close to spilling.

“Please,” you whined, head dropping back against Eleven’s shoulder. “Ten, please- Doctor-”

“Well, you heard the lady,” Eleven tutted, pushing your tits together that little bit harder to create a touch more friction for him. “You’d better cum then, shouldn’t you?”

Ten groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his gorgeous neck to you both. Eleven nipped at the tip of your ear, causing you to gasp.

“Cum on me, please- I need it,” you whined, brows drawing inwards in desperation. Ten seemed to finally hear you, and he let out a desperate little ‘o-hoh, yes, fuck-’ and he was cumming, spilling over your tits, rolling his hips back and forth to make sure he got the most out of his orgasm.

You groaned pleasurably as Eleven let go of your breasts. A drip of cum dribbled off the curve of your tit and onto Eleven’s hand, who deftly and without hesitation licked it up.

You were so fucked out and so busy thinking about how covered in spend you were that you barely noticed as Ten decided to collapse softly on top of you both. He snuggled close, not caring about the fact that he was now also covered in his own cum as well, and you huffed out a grunt.

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Eleven said sarcastically, now being crushed under two grown people. “Now I’m trapped. I suppose you’re both happy, aren’t you?”

You giggled out a nod, and you could see Ten trying to contain his laughter as well.

“Alright,” you say, yawning tiredly. Wow, that came out of nowhere. Suddenly you were oh-so-tired. “Ten minutes of cuddles and then it’s group shower time, yes?”

“Maybe fifteen,” Ten replied tiredly.

“Yes, dears,” Eleven added, and you could hear the affectionate roll of his eyes.

Was it wrong, perhaps, to wish that Eleven would stay forever? Possibly. Was it going to stop you from wishing it quietly to yourself anyway?

Absolutely not.

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shuichiakainx · 2 months

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they say home is where the heart is, but God I love Matt 💕

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pastanest · 1 year

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Eleventh Doctor x she/her!reader

AN: this is an ANGSTY one which is usually not the vibe for me but I got lost in this idea and completely fell in love with it so I really hope you like it!! this is the ost piece I was listening to while writing -

Set Things Right

With a sigh, the Doctor rubs his face with his hands, then places his palms flat against the console of the Tardis. She wheezes halfheartedly, seeming to wince in pain.

“Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong?” The Time Lord pleads with her, desperate for any sign, any handy hint on what he can possibly do to help her.

The two of them have been drifting aimlessly through deep space for a time that even a lord of such a thing has been unable to truly focus on. Hours, days, weeks - he doesn’t know, all of it has been lost to the worry over his oldest and truest companion. The one piece of home he has left.

Closing his eyes tightly in a pained blink, the Doctor takes a deep breath in an attempt to tune himself into the Tardis further, to understand her, just enough to help. In focussing as hard as he possibly can, his subconscious grabs at the first sound it finds, no more than an unidentifiable flicker, but the Doctor hones his thoughts to the spark that the Tardis has sent him, whatever it may be. The very moment the sound becomes clear to him, though, the Doctor flinches away from the console, feeling a physical tear through his hearts and rubbing against his shirt to soothe the ache that resides there. Has resided there, and been ignored for another time that he dares not address.

“Don’t. Just…don’t, please. She’s….” The Doctor shakes his head, refusing to say the words as he falls against the railing, gripping it with one hand at his back while the other still holds his chest, as though shielding his hearts from another fatal blow. “She can’t help us, not anymore.”

And he feels it, the judgemental gaze of the Tardis on him at every angle, even in her weakened state. Loosening his bowtie to escape some of the pressure, the Doctor speeds from the control room, past a door that he knows was not previously so close to the main control room but he will not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it, past the swimming pool, and towards the library. There must be something in here, he thinks to himself, haphazardly throwing books from the shelves on which they previously sat and creating a disheveled pile in the center of the room behind him, hoping one of them may contain the secret to healing his sickly time machine.

Quite suddenly, the Tardis jolts to the right, sending the Doctor falling into the pile of books he had unintentionally used to form his own landing pad. Jumping back to his feet with a firm frown on his face, the Doctor straightens his shirt and huffs.

“Now, I know you aren’t very well, but there is no need-”

Interrupting him, the Tardis throws him back to the ground with another fierce jolt, and then she bursts to life in what the Doctor can only describe as a fit of rage. She is taking flight, furiously, to a destination of her own choosing, with no regard for the Time Lord that is crawling his way back to the main control room through corridors that she turns on their heads, walls that she shrinks and enlarges, floors that she shakes and cracks with the sheer force of her determination.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The Doctor shouts into the main control room, over her screeches, as glass panels splinter at his feet.

Flinging himself at the console, he grabs the monitor with both hands and tries to read the Gallifreyan text, the co-ordinates, anything, but she is flying too fast for his eyes to keep up with her train of thought as it blazes across the screen.

And with a final, deafening crash that sends the Doctor hurtling into the railing, the Tardis halts to a sudden stop. She wheezes again, but this time it almost sounds…relieved? As though wherever she has landed, it has brought her a sense of peace. This place can heal her wounds, the Doctor recognises her feelings towards it, and his ever curious mind is buzzing with excitement at the thought of such an incredible, new place.

“Oh, where have you brought me this time, old girl?” Having already forgiven her for the bumpy ride, the ancient god is giddy, rubbing his hands together and retying his bowtie, grabbing his tweed jacket as he races for the door.

He braces himself as he reaches for the wooden panel, hand trembling with excitement. With a deep breath, the Doctor pushes open the door and steps out into the brand new world. Except it isn’t, and it is.

The street is one he would recognise even if he had never set foot there, because he knows this planet almost as well as he had known his own. Earth, the planet to have given him the greatest friends and adventures he’d ever known. But this street is not one he has never set foot on. The Doctor is a man who cannot look back because he dares not, there are many streets on this planet that he avoids for fear of the pain he would revisit on seeing them again, in the absence of those he once knew occupied them. And this street is no different, except in that it is the most recent of the streets he never wanted to see again, and in the way that he has been forced to do exactly that. He wants to run and hide, more than anything, but he is frozen to the spot, because something isn’t right. The air tastes different, the gravity feels slightly askew, and he can’t tell what year it is amidst the emotional tidal wave of it all. As fundamentally wrong as all of those aspects are, the Doctor cannot deny that they point to one possibility amongst a million others, but that one - regardless of the agony - he cannot live with the regret of denying.

And then he hears it again. The same sound he had heard when inside the Tardis, the sound she had told him would help her, and now again, in the place she has taken him to heal her. Time seems to slow as the Doctor turns to his left, his eyes immediately locking onto and blurring a perfect vision he never thought he would see again. You.

Laughing so hard you are throwing your head back, eyes crinkled and tears spilling at their creases, your mobile phone to your ear only mildly distorting the view of you. Completely oblivious to the big, sad eyes that watch over you, a trembling smile of pure anguish choking out a disbelieving laugh with you, though he has no idea what you are laughing at.

Clutching at his chest and feeling the world around him beginning to spin, the Time Lord stumbles back through the doors of his time machine and falls to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden panels in an effort to lock himself away.

For the briefest second, all he feels is pain. Wound after wound tearing through his very being, bleeding him dry and crushing him into dust. And then that second ends, and the oncoming storm rises to his feet, a darkened frown etched into his brow.

“Why.” He mutters, approaching the console. “Why. WHY!” He throws his arms in the air and slams them against either side of the monitor, watching as you disappear down the street and then shoving the monitor away from him. “WHY would you bring me here?! What kind of cruel trick is this?! How DARE you! How…could you? How could you take me back to a time when she was…when you know that I can’t…”

The Doctor trails off, defeated, and collapses onto the jump seat with his head in his hands.

Sensing his anguish, the Tardis groans at him, exasperated by the way in which he continues to miss the obvious. Sending the monitor flying back over to the side of the console that the Doctor is facing, the Tardis displays the exact time and date beyond her doors and waits. It takes the solemn, lonely man several seconds to lift his sorrowful gaze from his hands and read the Gallifreyan text she has written for him.

He blinks, and blinks again. Then stands, closing the distance between himself and the monitor.

“But, this can’t be right, that means…” The cogs begin to turn inside the mind of a genius, knowing for a reason he cannot come to terms with that he could not have possibly seen you on this date, in this time.

And as the realization hits him, his eyes widen, the Tardis seeming to screech in pure glee as her masterful plan is revealed to him.

“You…” He whispers in disbelief. “You punctured a hole in the fabric of the universe…to bring us to a parallel world, where…”

A soft knock at the door interrupts his bewildered and undecidedly disapproving train of thought. Leaning around the console, he frowns in confusion and, in a daze, strolls over to the door. Opening it just enough to show himself and not the bigger-on-the-inside majesty of his time machine, the Doctor unintentionally finds himself very nearly nose to nose, with you.

Jumping back in surprise, you chuckle. “Oh, hello! Blimey, talk about up close and personal!”

And the Doctor cannot say a word. In all his hundreds of years, you are the one thing to render him completely and utterly speechless.

“Anyway, sorry to disturb you and your…policey business? I’m guessing this is a new thing or I just never noticed this blue box on the corner of my street, but, is this somewhere that I can raise concerns?” You ask him, staring up at him with the most clueless and curious expression. The pain caused by the lack of recognition in your eyes is nothing compared to the bliss of seeing the life within them.

Without a word, the Doctor nods.

“Oh, perfect! There’s this guy that’s been following me home from work in the evenings and it’s really starting to freak me out. I’m not sure if I just report it to you and you keep an eye out, since he hasn’t done anything and the law for creeps is lenient at the best of times, but if you’re stationed here I just wanted to give you a heads up, I guess.” You glance to either side, as though fearful the man you are reporting could overhear, but then your eyes meet the Doctor’s again and you smile so kindly. “Anyway, that was all. Hope you have a good night and don’t get too cramped in there! See ya!”

And, like what you’ve done hasn’t just altered the course of history, you spin on your heel and walk away without a care in the world.

The Doctor closes the Tardis doors again and turns to face the console.

“We can’t be here. She doesn’t recognise me, this version of her has never met me- well, she has now, I suppose, and that is entirely your fault! But she doesn’t know me, she’s lived the days on this planet that another version of her spent traveling through time and space with me, she has stayed safe here and I cannot do anything to jeopardize that, not again, so we have to-” He stops himself, mid-ramble and mid-walk to the center console.

“Except…the other version of her, the version that we knew, she mentioned a man that followed her home, just once.” His blood runs cold. “She said that had we not met when we did, she feared what he would have ended up doing to her, and in this timeline…” The Doctor’s fists clench at his sides as the reality of the situation dawns on him. “You have given me an impossible choice. To choose between the very fabric of the universe, and saving her just one more time.” He straightens his bowtie and heads for the door, casting a flirtatious smirk over his shoulder.

“And you knew exactly what I would choose, you sexy thing.”

The next morning, you all but stumble into your office in a half-asleep state, having stayed awake far too late the previous night watching youtube videos about conspiracy theories to distract yourself from the curious, bowtie-wearing policeman you had met. Falling into the spinny chair behind your desk, you open your laptop and start tapping away to log yourself in for the day, tuning out the background noise of your coworkers doing the same.

“Ahh, (Y/N)!” Your manager’s voice makes you jump, your life flashing before your suddenly wide eyes as you sit up straight and turn to face him.

“I wanted to introduce you to John Smith, he’s a detective in the area that’s been assigned to watch over this part of town due to some unsightly folks being reported on the streets!” He grimaces at the thought, but you hardly notice, your eyes having already gravitated towards the tall, slim man with the dopey smile on his face as he watches the tiniest spark of recognition ignite in your eyes.

Standing from your chair, you hold a hand out to him. “We’ve met, actually, but I didn’t think it’d amount to this! Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

If possible, the warm smile on his face brightens to challenge even the sun outside. “Duty calls! Pleasure’s all mine, but please, call me the Doctor.” He pretends to very dramatically whisper “It’s my code name.”

Unable to stop yourself, you giggle and shake your head at his antics, making the young man with ancient eyes beam.

“I’ll be surveying the area today, but this evening I wondered if you could take me on your route home, so that I can evaluate any…unsightly folks.” He says, referencing your report the day before and your manager’s choice of words.

You nod at him, smiling gratefully. “That’d be wonderful, thanks…Doctor.”

And oh, how his hearts both skip a beat at hearing you say that.

For the rest of the day, you sit at your laptop and work away, while occasionally casting glances out of the window and at the carpark below, where the curious bowtie-wearing Doctor-policeman “surveys the area”. Now, you don’t pride yourself on being knowledgeable about police work, but you are quite confident that it doesn’t usually entail climbing trees simply to sit in them or getting bored enough to begin peeping in people’s parked cars and accidentally setting several car alarms off. All the same, every glance from the window leaves you with a smile that you truly struggle to wipe from your face, even in the wake of your desk job.

At the end of your working day, you practically skip out of your office in search of the sweet fool that has offered to walk you home. You find him waiting beneath a streetlamp, surrounded by its golden glow, casting a halo over him that you can’t help to find somewhat metaphorical.

“Evening Doctor, had a good day?” You tease, knowing as well as he does that you have seen the majority of his antics.

“Good evening! I did have quite a good day, yes, did get a bit dull towards the middle, but as long as it helps keep the community safe, I will do it! How was your day?” He kindly returns your question, the two of you subconsciously starting to walk in step with each other.

“It was alright, bit dull, like you say, but we got through it!” You change the subject. “Before I entrust you with my route home, do you have a badge to prove your position, detective?”

Something twinkles in his eye at your sensibility, your desire to protect yourself, and the opportunity for him to show off one of his favorite party tricks. “Ah, of course! Here.”

Digging into his tweed jacket, he retrieves a leather bound wallet and opens it out to you. The second you have digested the words on the small piece of paper within it, you are laughing so hard you are throwing your head back.

The Doctor, in a state of pure confusion, rapidly looks between you and the psychic paper. “What? What does it say?!”

Wiping your eyes, you try to calm yourself down. “It’s safe to say your flirting is much appreciated after a long day, Doctor.”

With wide eyes, the Time Lord reads over the piece of psychic paper that has never been more accurately named than when it answered your question of his professional title with a few, simple words.

The love of your life.

And the Doctor has never flushed a more violent shade of red in all his years. With a disgruntled cough, he shoves the wallet back in his jacket.

“I am so sorry, that was not at all appropriate, please forgive-”

Nudging him playfully, you cut him off. “Nothing to forgive! As I said, I appreciated it. I know a creep when I see one, as proven, so I can tell when someone isn’t one. Translation: you can flirt with me as much as you like, pretty boy.”

He expects your flirting to fluster him even more, having not heard it in some time, but the sentiment is so familiar and by extension, comforting to him, the Doctor finds himself relaxing into your presence again, like nothing has changed.

“Pretty boy?” He chuckles.

You shrug. “Yeah, I’d definitely say you’re pretty. I suppose I’d have to, if you’re the love of my life.”

Playing along, the Doctor smiles at you, perhaps a little too adoringly. “Well, yes, it would be quite a shame if one of those statements were false.”

“Either one, in fact.” You give him a cheeky grin, the two of you sharing a comfortable laugh as you pass beneath another streetlight along your walk home that you have memorized so completely, you have all the time in the world to memorize an entirely new part of it.

By the time the Doctor walks you to your front door that evening, both of your faces ache from smiling as much as you have.

“I regret to inform, I didn’t look behind us to see if we were being followed at any point.” You say, feigning disappointment in yourself that the Time Lord very quickly catches onto.

“Ah, well, in that case, I regret to inform the same- and it’s my job! I am rubbish at this.”

His response brings another warm laugh from you. “I wouldn’t say you’re rubbish, but I think it is only fair we reconvene tomorrow evening and ensure we do keep our wits about us. What do you think?”

And the Doctor is grinning at you like you’re a tree with silver leaves, standing tall in deep red grass, beneath twin suns. A piece of home he truly never thought he would find again.

“I think I owe it to you, after my poor show today.”

With that, you’re smiling right back at him. “Wonderful! See you tomorrow then, Doctor.”

He raises his hand without really thinking about it and gives a very awkward wave, considering how close the two of you are standing, but it seems you are already accustomed to his clumsy social skills and have found the charm in them that speaks to your heart in the same way it does across every version of you. Sharing one final laugh, the two of you part ways, the Doctor beginning to retrace his steps from your house to his Tardis.

When casting one last look over his shoulder, he sees you still standing in your half-open doorway, watching after him with a lingering smile that is so beautifully familiar to him. With a more socially acceptable distance now between you, he waves again, and you wave back, stepping into your house and closing your door behind you. And with a spring in his step that was previously long forgotten, the Doctor returns to his time machine.

She is in wonderful spirits, of course, seeing her Time Lord return with such a dopey smile plastered between rosey cheeks as he recounts the day he’s had, everything you said, everything you did. The Tardis makes what can only be described as mechanical noises of approval with every new piece of information about you.

Knowing he can’t risk trying to time travel to the next morning when already breaking the rules by being in this parallel world to begin with, the Doctor decides to spend the rest of the evening and night tidying up. Something he doesn’t often do, as the Tardis will usually default to clean settings whenever he leaves a room in a mess, but she watches endearingly as he tidies away the books he’d thrown into to the library floor, polishes the railings of the main control room, and strangely, tidies away the fairy lights that you had wrapped around the bannister what feels like a lifetime ago, because you had insisted the Tardis could use a little more ‘dolling up’, as you put it. A classy girl, you had called her. No wonder she is still so fond of you.

But the Doctor had been unable to merely focus his gaze on the little glowing orbs that decorated the main control room, ever since you had last set foot in there. The reminder of your physical presence and the agony of the absence that followed was too much for him to confront, and yet here he is, wrapping them up and tidying them away like Christmas decorations that have been left up just a little too long. It is curious, the Tardis thinks. Does this mean he is ready to start processing his grief? Is he simply on an emotional high from seeing you again, to the point where he can touch the tangible reminders of you that were previously forbidden to trembling hands? Or, does he wish for you to set foot in here again and make the request for fairy lights that he will already have waiting for you? The Tardis does not know, but she knows very well what she hopes to be the truth.

The next morning, the Doctor actually decides to go on a stroll to the local shops. He had visited them only a handful of times with you before and often found them to be incredibly boring, which they once again proved themselves to be when he arrived at 5am to find none of them were open yet. Naturally, he spun around the carpark in shopping trolleys until the doors opened hours later.

At work, you sit at your desk tapping your shoes against the carpet beneath it impatiently, glancing out of the window every few seconds with a frown that you truly cannot believe is there. Are you really this disturbed by the lack of presence of a man you have known no more than 48 hours?

But when he hobbles into the carpark, very awkwardly carrying a foldable ping-pong set, you struggle to contain the howling laughter that brings tears to your eyes. You watch in absolute wonder as the strange man sets the table up against a tree he had climbed the previous day, in perfect view of the window by your desk, and then turns to wave at you, ping-pong paddle in hand and a goofy grin on his face as he points at it and the table, in case you hadn’t noticed it. Waving back and miming that yes, you acknowledge the ping-pong table he has brought with him, you shake your head in disbelief and finally allow yourself to focus on your work. Meanwhile, in the distance there is the occasional, disdainful yell of a Time Lord playing ping-pong against a tree and losing.

That evening, the Doctor is once again waiting for you under the same streetlamp, illuminated by the same angelic glow as the evening before, and you can’t help feeling that each time you see him standing under it, that becomes more and more fitting.

“Evening Doctor, what’s the final score?” You ask, gesturing to the ping-pong table that he has left in the carpark.

Scoffing and pouting dramatically, the Doctor replies. “I don’t want to talk about it, but good evening.”

In an instant, the two of you are chuckling again, like old friends that have known each other far longer than you two have. Or rather, far longer than you have known him. The walk to your home continues in much the same way as it did the previous day, except the Doctor is more aware of your surroundings this time.

“So, I said to her, y’know, that’s totally unreasonable, and then she-”

The Doctor interrupts you by gently tapping your hand with his own as they swing between you.

“I don’t want to alarm you, but we are being followed. Carry on as you were, I’ll keep watch.” He whispers, your arm immediately going rigid with fear beside him, but nodding along with his reassurances. “You are completely safe. I won’t let anything harm you.”

Clearing your throat, you continue. “Sorry, just remembered I forgot to save a file at work and made a mental note to sort that tomorrow. Anyway, as I was saying-”

Listening dutifully to your stories, as he always has, the Doctor only occasionally casts sideways glances to the opposite side of the street, where a shadowed figure is walking ever so slightly behind the two of you.

Once safely at your door, the two of you share a small smile, but your nervousness is obvious.

“Please, dont worry. After tonight, you won’t ever have to feel this way again. I will deal with him.” The Doctor tells you, voice soft but words firm in their meaning.

And you don’t know why, but you trust him completely. “Thank you. Goodnight, Doctor.”

With that, he gives you a warm smile, one that you will hold onto for the rest of the night. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

He waits until you have stepped inside your home, closed and locked the front door, before he takes his leave. There is no skip in his step this time, his shoes thud against the concrete road with a determination and fury like no other.

Walking over to his Tardis, the Doctor rests his back against the doors and crosses his arms.

“I know you’re hiding over there, I know you like to follow her. Just tell me why.” He speaks into the street that appears empty, but in his peripheral vision, he can see the same hooded shadow that had been following you earlier, hiding around the corner of someone else’s house.

For a moment, the stalker says nothing and the Doctor is tempted to speak again, but then a voice greets him from the dark.

“None of your business.”

The Doctor laughs coldly. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. By choosing to subject her to the fear that you have, you have made this my business. So, I’ll ask again, just once: why?”

The hooded figure considers the words and the obvious confidence of the bowtie-wearing man that leans against a police box. Based on this, he evidently tries to choose his words carefully, but not carefully enough.

“I like the way she walks faster when she sees me behind her.”

The Doctor’s blood boils in his veins. “You like to scare her?”

When no voice replies to correct him, the Time Lord stands up from leaning against the Tardis and walks over to the monster of a man that thinks himself hidden.

“Does it make you feel powerful, scaring her? Like you’re making some impact on the world?” The Doctor seethes. “Let me make myself very clear: she is one world that will forever be out of your reach, both in who she is and the fact I will make sure of it. She is under my protection, do you want to know what that means?”

Without giving the monster time to answer, the Doctor grabs him by a tuft of his hair and slams his forehead into his, sending him a shockwave compilation of the Time Lord’s most formidable and incredible moments. The paper man crumbles to the floor, a shaking mess, and the Doctor stands tall over him.

“If I ever see your face again, it will be your last day on this planet.” The Doctor threatens, voice eerily soft given the weight of his words.

Nodding frantically, the stalker scrambles to his feet and sprints as fast as he can away from the ancient god.

Rubbing his face tiredly, the Doctor returns to his time machine and collapses on the jump seat.

“He won't bother her again, she’s safe now.” He tells his oldest companion.

She whirrs pleasantly at him, grateful for him having saved you, but reiterating a question that already nags at his mind.

“After seeing my list of atrocities, it’s highly likely he’ll ever come back. We should…” He trails off, exhausted by the task of sharing his own history with another mind in such a way. Sighing deeply, he sits back in the chair. “But highly likely still isn’t definite. I should probably stay, just one more day, to be certain.”

And the next day, after another wonderful walk home with you, the Time Lord comes skipping through the Tardis doors with another beaming grin.

“Well, there’s no way he would come back the day after I threatened to remove him from the planet, and I can't leave her so suddenly without an explanation! I owe her that, at least.”

But he is only justifying the continuation down this path to himself, the Tardis holds no opposition to what would usually cause her and the fabric of reality a great deal of stress.

Before he knows it, the Doctor has done the impossible: he has lived a normal week in normal human time. He knows that without you, he never could have done such a thing. To be honest, even if he had been with you as he was before, he would have struggled with this. Having lost you and lived without you in the way that he has, he has never wished more for the most mundane parts of a life with you. All the time spent running with you at his side, facing varying degrees of danger head on, running on adrenaline and saving planet after planet - it was only when he lost you that he realized in doing all of that, he barely had the time to just walk with you. Talk about your day, the weather, your friends, the gossip about town, the slow passing of an evening instead of cramming a month’s worth of adventures into a week of traveling and then dropping you back into your normal life on the same day you’d left it. How you adjusted to both, how you effectively gave up on the life you had here, the one he has now been blessed enough to live with you, he will never know.

And on the last night of the working week, when the two of you share a look that acknowledges the fact you won’t see each other again until Monday, and you invite him into your home for a cup of tea, the Doctor feels a piece of his hearts slot back into place.

Stepping into your home, without the souvenirs and paintings from your travels with the Doctor filling every empty space, only seeing pieces of you everywhere, your ornaments and trinkets and chosen wall art - all of it sings your name to him like a prayer. It is strange, to step into someone’s home for the first time and feel a sense of nostalgia. Something feels wrong, still, but the Time Lord allows himself to be blinded by everything that feels right, the constant comfort that he feels in your presence, the peace you bring his ancient mind. Just once, he feels he is allowed to ignore the nagging in his brain. The universe can let him have this, just for a little while longer.

Having made the Doctor the best cup of tea he has ever had - simply because it is you that has made it - you inform him it is against your code of conduct to stay in your work clothes once you have returned home, and rapidly ascend the stairs, leaving the Time Lord sitting in your living room in a lovesick daze. And when you re-enter the room in the coziest looking pajamas he has ever seen, the Doctor is absolutely certain that the look in his eyes tells you loud and clear, he would do anything for you.

Flopping down on the sofa beside him, you kick your feet up on the plush footstool ahead of you. “So, Friday night, what are we saying - takeaway and a film?”

You could have asked him to marry you and the question would have sounded just as heavenly. The Doctor nods frantically, grinning after you as you briefly exit the room again and return with a box full of paper menus for various takeaway places, asking him to pick while you choose a film that you say he has to see at least once in his life. He pretends to deliberate, his eyes fixed on you as you dig through your stacks of DVD’s, but he knows that he’s going to choose your favorite takeaway and you’re going to put on your favorite film, which he has watched with you a number of times before, but cannot wait to watch again for the first time.

In the post-takeaway bloat, the Doctor has discarded his tweed jacket and bowtie, and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, while you have simply shifted your position to be snuggled into his side with your head against his chest. The two of you are snuggled under a fluffy blanket, watching your favorite movie in silence, save for your choice commentary over your favorite scenes. With your ear pressed against his chest, the Doctor wonders how you haven’t made a point of his irregular sounding heartbeats. While you have acknowledged it in your own head, something about it feels normal to you, preventing you from having any kind of reaction beyond being comforted by its sound.

And never before has the Time Lord wished to be stuck in a time loop more. If the only way he could live this day, everyday, for the rest of time, would be to play it out over and over again, he would never complain about a thing. If his moral compass had a gray area that was just a little larger, he could let his Tardis being here cause a fracture in the fabric of reality with any number of consequences, if it meant he could stay here with you. But above all else, the Doctor wishes he could have a silly little job to complain about, that everyday he could come home to your little house, cook and eat dinner with you at your dining table, laugh about the days you’ve had and yours plans for the next ones, then snuggle up on the sofa in your pajamas to watch your favorite shows until you were tired enough to go to sleep. And every night, he would carry you up to bed, looking down at your sleeping face and planning each and every night how he’d ask you to marry him someday soon.

It isn’t until you feel a droplet against your head and sit up to face him that the Doctor realizes he desires that life so strongly it has reduced him to tears.

“Doctor? What’s wrong?!”

The care in your voice, the way he can tell you already feel for him, the bond you have automatically slipped back into without even trying. He has made an imprint on your life again, he couldn’t help it. He was here to save you just one more time, to set things right so that he and his time machine could grieve and carry on, that was his purpose here, but he has gone too far. There is no logical way that he can leave unnoticed and in any which way he left you now, he would hurt you. While it would only be a fraction of the agony he has lived in without you, he cannot bring himself to hurt you in any capacity, not again.

“I have to show you something.” The Doctor tells you, standing up from the sofa and taking your hand, grabbing his jacket with the other and leading you to your front door.

It is silent as you step into a pair of slippers big enough to fit your fluffy socks in, staring up at the Doctor in confusion and concern, and it is silent as the two of you walk the short distance between your house and his police box.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor pushes open the door and gently tugs you inside. Your legs falter behind him and he turns to face you, seeing an exact replay of the shock and wonder in your eyes as he did on the first occasion he brought you here. But there isn’t time, not anymore.

“Not a policeman, a time traveller. This is my ship, it’s bigger on the inside.” With your hand still in his, the ancient god rushes through the necessary clarifications as he leads you through the main control room, down a flight of stairs, and to the door that he previously couldn’t bear looking at, that the Tardis had moved closer to the main control room than it had ever been before.

The Doctor’s other hand is shaking as he reaches for the handle, but he cannot delay this any longer. He has gone too far.

Turning the handle dowards, he pushes the door open, the gesture weak but taking everything from him, his arm falling limp at his side. The room glows at your arrival, the Tardis sensing your return and greeting you in a warm smile. And despite the overwhelming strangeness of it all, you manage a small smile back at her.

The Doctor feels your hand slip away from his as you cautiously step into the room, while he feels an invisible barrier denying him entry. After everything, he does not deserve the right to stand in there with you.

“This universe is not the only one.” He begins, voice light as he focuses on telling you a story, providing an explanation of what came first, forcing himself to forget what came after until he has no choice but to tell you that, too. “There is an ever expanding number of galaxies and worlds out there in this universe and others, and time is like…a cabinet, with folders pressed together that are so similar, only those who know them well enough could tear them apart. Parallel worlds.”

His eyes are fixed to you as you seem to glide around the room, gaze lingering on every trinket you see, until you reach the fireplace to the left of the door. It bursts to life at your presence, flames roaring and firewood crackling, warming your slippers, but you neglect to notice that, otherwise entranced by the photographs that decorate the mantelpiece. Frame after frame, all different sizes, some photographs not framed yet, but placed there still, waiting to be stood with pride amongst the rest. Your own face, and the Doctor’s, smiling back at you in each and every one, with backgrounds of countless different places.

“I was lucky enough to meet you in a world parallel to this one. We…traveled together.” He takes a deep breath, watching you pick up some of the photographs to examine them closer, a confused frown on your face as you stare at them with such intensity. “There are planets safe in the sky, stars that sing songs of that version of you for saving them, even just for visiting them. That version of you was like…a sun, to many a planet, spreading an infectious joy wherever you went…to none more than me.” With a sad smile, his gaze drops to the floor, the line of your doorway that he cannot cross. “I took you from the planet that created you, the stardust from which you were born, and because of me, that world is now without you.” All light drains from the Doctor’s voice then, the weight of his crimes crushing the flicker of his spirit that only you could bring back. “What should have been an easy pit stop on an asteroid became the worst day in existence. It was your birthday- not that you remembered, you hadn’t been living earth days for some time, but you had mentioned how much you enjoyed celebrating and I couldn’t strip you of that human right along with everything else.” As kind as his gesture had been at the time, on reflection it is morbid, cynical and cruel. Everything he did that led you there had grown sour in the absence of you. “I took you to the largest asteroid belt in history, so that we could have a picnic there and you could take another photograph for your collection. But when we arrived…” The Time Lord swallows the lump in his throat, remembering every agonizing second as though it was happening all over again. “Colonizers, that was what they called themselves. A disorganized group of criminals; a broken cyberman and discharged jadoon, among them. They had stolen a vortex tunnel, which in itself was a terrible crime- they thought they could control one but not even Time Lords managed to master them. My history and their anger towards me for it was waiting outside the Tardis doors but because it had been clear when I’d set the picnic up, I didn’t think to scan the perimeter again. I sent you out there first to surprise you, and they-” Trembling fists clench at his sides, closing his eyes in a pained blink before opening them to a grave frown. “They’d already grabbed you and before I could say anything, they’d thrown you inside.”

Having already placed the photographs back on the mantelpiece, you watch the wonder of a man you’ve come to know crumble with shame.

“What does a vortex tunnel do?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper so as to not upset him further by verbalizing such painful memories for him too loudly.

“Vortex tunnels are a risky means of escape. They pluck you from where you’re standing and send you hurtling across space and time with no definite destination. They could send someone to random coordinates, floating in space, to certain death- there is no way to predict them.” The Doctor answers, keeping his words factual and objective to regain some composure.

“Why would anyone want to use one?” You question gently.

“Desperation. Based on their unpredictability, they are illegal and kept in stasis, but there have been cases of criminals that use them to avoid trial and execution.” He replies.

“Couldn’t outer space police track them down, or something?” You aren’t quite sure you understand the full extent of the events, feeling that certain aspects are missing and it is down to you to piece together what you can while trying to save the Doctor from reliving such pain.

“Vortex tunnels don’t just send you across time and space, they erase your mind entirely. In the highly unlikely case of someone being tracked to where the tunnel had spat them out, they have no memory of their crimes, so cannot be charged for them. The creature that they were, all but ceases to be.” His voice is light again, fragile this time at the thought of the person he had known being erased from existence and left stranded. “There was no way for me to trace you, not even with a psychic link in the Tardis, because the psychic link with you was gone, your mind as we knew it, was gone. The Colonizers jumped into it afterwards, of course, to escape me.” The Doctor rubs his face with his hands, then places a palm against the doorframe. “She’s the reason I’m here. She mourned you so deeply that she ripped a hole in the fabric of reality to bring me to a parallel world, just to save you one last time, to make our last memory something better.” His hand falls to his side. “But I went too far, again. I stayed too long, made too much of an impression on this version of you, your life here. Now, leaving will hurt you, but I can’t take you with me. Not only do I refuse to take you away from the world, the family that is yours a second time, but I cannot replace her. As similar as you are, you are not her, and I know it. Something has felt wrong from the moment I arrived and as much as I’ve tried to ignore it, I can’t anymore-“

“What family?” You interrupt him, stunning him into silence for a moment.

He is so shocked by your question, he manages to meet your eyes for the first time since opening your bedroom door. “Your family, your parents.”

Your brow furrows, expression lost. “I…don’t have parents, Doctor.”

The Time Lord stares at you, dumbfounded.

And then he’s walking towards you, stepping across the invisible barrier and breaking the distance to stare into your eyes, read what lies beyond them, a stern frown etched in his features. “Yes, you do. As different as parallel worlds can be, if you did not have parents, you would be a very different person. Your mother picked out your living room curtains, your father built the coffee table in there-”

You shake your head, interrupting him again. “Those were both part of the house, they were there when I arrived.”

Too perplexed to continue this interrogation manually, the Doctor takes your hand and all but drags you back to the main control room. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket, he scans your brain and then transfers the data to his monitor, eyes reading the Gallifreyan data displayed over and over again, trying to make sense of it.

“Is there something wrong with me, Doctor?” You ask, beginning to worry based on his expansive knowledge and lack of ability to give you an explanation.

Looking from his monitor to you, he scowls. “Arrived.”

“What?” You question.

“You didn’t say the furniture was there when you moved in, you said it was there when you arrived.” His eyes slowly start to widen. “You saw the Tardis. When we first landed here- she automatically blends in with the world around her, but you saw her. And when I told you to call me the Doctor, you didn’t question it, not once. Despite being introduced to you as John Smith, you never called me that, even in private.” Slow, hesitant steps towards you, as though he’s scared to approach what you could be. “You didn’t question anything, throughout my explanation. Not the time travel, not the Tardis or referring to her as ‘she’, not parallel worlds, not the alien species I referenced, not how we met, the places we’d been- you only started asking questions in the end, about the only things that - out of everything I told you - you didn’t already know.”

His words sink into your skin slowly, your mind finding it much more difficult to digest this information than it had everything else the Doctor has previously told you, and he’s right, all of that should have raised more questions from you.

The Doctor reaches for your hand so slowly, and you don’t know why, but you accept it, instinctively. A small smile blooms on his face, the tiniest glimmer of hope as he looks between you and the Tardis console.

“She wasn’t sick, oh, you sexy thing- that’s how she brought us here, she was tracking you across time and space, pinpointing the anomaly of you, thrown from your own timestream and into another.” He whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to place a kiss against your knuckles. “If we fly away from here, if we go back to your Earth, the timeline will correct itself and you should remember everything- we can’t let this anomaly continue or it could tear apart time and space in some grandiose butterfly effect!”

And he lets go of your hand to run around the console, pressing buttons and pulling levers with an exhilarated grin on his face, the Tardis whirring with excitement, while you just stand there.

“All this time, I thought she couldn't find you, silly old Doctor! I was slow on the uptake, as usual- I hope the Shadow Proclamation can forgive any ripples in the continuum that follow this, but-”

“Doctor, wait.”

He stops suddenly, the wondrous time machine collapsing into silence.

“The fact I already trust you as much as I do and don’t feel terrified by this frankly alarming turn of events, suggests you and the Tardis are right, but…remembering an entire life that, as of now, I don’t fully recognise I’ve lived, how will that feel?” For the first time since meeting the Doctor in this world, you are scared at the thought of what comes next.

Understanding your concern, the Doctor returns to you and takes your hands in his. “Quite honestly, I have no idea, I’ve never seen the recovery process from a vortex tunnel. I can only guess that it will feel overwhelming, it could send you to sleep, but whatever happens, I will be right here, and you will be fine. I promise you. I will never risk you again.”

He holds your face in his hands, gaze locked with yours.

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “Okay.”

The Doctor smiles at you. “Keep your eyes on me and reach for the lever on your left, you know the one.”

And like it’s second nature, your hand grabs the very lever he’s referring to, bringing a beaming grin from the Time Lord as you tug it down.

With a wheeze and a groan, the wonderful time machine lifts into the sky and drags herself out of the parallel world, beginning the journey back to the one you came from. Through the time vortex, your knees buckle, winding you and forcing you to collapse into the Doctor, who holds you against him so tightly, slowly lowering the two of you to the floor to hold you on his lap, arms keeping your body safe as your mind races a mile a minute.

“You can do this, we’re almost there. Come on (Y/N), hold on, for me.” He murmurs into your ear, comforting you through the tears that wrack your body, memories attacking you from every angle.

Regardless of how happy the majority of those memories are, to experience them all at once and at the same time as all of the sad ones, the painful ones; to feel every emotion you are capable of feeling simultaneously and remembering every instance in which you have felt every one, in a microsecond; a human mind can only cope with so much.

The memories of his smile and laugh overlay every flashing image of every place you’ve been together, every species you’ve encountered, friend you’ve made, planet you’ve explored, until it all fades to black and you are empty again.

Only this time, instead of waking up in a simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar house with a mental block on how you had arrived there and no understanding of who you were beyond the corporate life you led amongst billions of your kind, your eyes flutter open to your home. Sitting in a chair beside your bed, he watches over you, your guardian angel. The delirium with which you scan the room around you, acknowledging the crackling fire and the familiarity of your bedroom on the Tardis, makes you feel as though you have slept a thousand years.

“Doctor? What-”

He interrupts you, gently shushing you. “Rest, (Y/N), you need to rest, please. Recovering and reliving your entire life all at once and in under a minute is not a normal process for anyone, you need to let your mind recover.”

Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you nod at him. “How long have I slept for?”

“Three days.”

With eyes like a deer in headlights, you sit bolt upright in bed, immediately starting to feel dizzy and the Doctor jumping from his chair to steady you, propping your pillows up behind you.

“Three days?!”

The Doctor nods. “Yes. Had I thought about this recovery process, I probably would have picked a more comfortable chair.”

Your jaw drops. “Tell me you have not been sitting there for three days straight.”

And the ancient god is silent.

You sigh. “Doctor!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “If I told you I hadn’t been sitting here for three days, that would have been a lie, so I thought it best not to say anything!”

Shaking your head in disbelief at him, you shuffle to the side of your bed that is pressed against the wall. “For goodness’ sake, you ridiculous fool.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed. “Get in here.”

The Doctor’s eyes widen. “Y-You need the space to rest!”

You hold his gaze. “Before getting to the parallel world, how long had it been since you last saw me?”

He avoids your eyes. “I wasn’t keeping count, we were just drifting while she tracked you- it doesn’t matter.”

Frowning, you look up at the ceiling. “Tardis? On the monitor above my bed, can you tell me how much time had passed between my disappearance and the two of you arriving on the parallel world, in Earth days?”

And as always, she is ever so happy to listen to you. The monitor above your bed flickers on, displaying a black screen with a single line of text.

1096 days, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

Having never been particularly mathematically gifted, you turn back to the Doctor. “...How many years is that?”

But he doesn’t have it in his hearts to tell you, to admit how long he was alone for, how long he and the Tardis grieved for, how long they drifted in space while she searched for you and he tortured himself with the guilt of losing you, the hopelessness of never being able to find you again. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket again, he zaps the monitor above your bed and then returns the tool to his pocket, hanging his head.

Looking back up at the monitor, your eyes fill with tears at the change of text.

3 Years, 1 Day, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

One hand lifts to cover your trembling bottom lip, while the other reaches for his hand.

“Three years?! Doctor, that’s-”

He cuts you off. “If the Tardis hadn't taken flight when she did, it would have been an eternity, I can assure you.”

The Doctor’s words hit you like a train, so suddenly and stopping your heart with a screech before it starts again, spluttering frantically in your chest at the impact. Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you chuckle, in complete disbelief.

“Well, daft old man, you know what that means, don’t you?”

Unable to resist the urge to lift his head and see your smile again, the Doctor meets your eyes. Without realizing it, he starts to smile back at you, silently asking you to continue.

And you do, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go of it to tap the empty space on the mattress beside you again, with a tearful smile that sets both his hearts ablaze.

“I think you need a cuddle just as much as I do.”

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Hi there! Could we see a touch starved!reader x The Doctor? Whichever Doctor you would want, but I admit I am biased to 11 hehe.

I really enjoyed your fic ‘Keep blessing me’, as someone who is plus size, I rarely see myself represented in media positively.

I can imagine reader being the type of person who is overlooked often, never been desired romantically and feels like she has been forgotten by the universe. She yearns to be held and feel safe but she also feels unworthy. She definitely is majorly pining for The Doctor but doesn’t allow herself to dwell much on it. Maybe he feels the same way?

[TW: negative self-talk, referenced/implied depression]

"Stone walls" - 11th Doctor x touch starved!Reader

Doctor Who-inspired playlist

Should you ask anyone who has taken part in some kind of competition at least once in their life, they will always say the same thing: the fourth place is the worst. Right under the podium, a hair's breadth away from being someone and yet they are nothing more than a mockery, the line separating memory and oblivion. Taking into account the series of unfortunate events you call your life, you were born in fourth place.

It was never anything explicit and perhaps that was the worst part. Had there been a groundbreaking revelation, a true calamity of heartache, you would have accepted it but it was that silence that sucked the life out of you. It wasn't that someone told you they hated you, it was that you were never chosen, drifting away on the waves of silence into the ocean of oblivion. Although you were born into this world, it never felt like you truly were part of it. Perhaps, all of existence was happening next to you or existence, to put it simply, refused to make you part of itself.

And then there was him - the Doctor, always scoring first place, always showered in gold medals and trophies because, truthfully, why wouldn't he? There was no way of telling how many catastrophes he had prevented, how many lives he had already saved. By his tireless service to the entire universe, it seemed as though he was born for this, to always be a winner. And the stories he told! How he had befriended so many species, how many hearts were offered to him that he had turned down. It was quite bittersweet, that you were so different and yet you were alive in the same universe.

Truthfully, you still didn't quite understand what ungodly whim made you his "partner in crime". The longer you were around him, the more you grow to understand just how not alike you were as if his brilliancy made you painfully aware of your mediocrity. Your place wasn't with him, quite obviously - he deserved someone better; someone you could never become. Maybe it would be better to leave soon, on your own, than have him grow impatient and simply throw you out. It wasn't the way you wanted to remember him, angry and annoyed, so you thought it best to relieve both of you of your underwhelming existence as soon as possible.

"You don't have to do this alone."

His voice caught you off guard. Has he been here this whole time? How long had he been staring at you, waiting for you to finally do something?

You turned around to look at him. The Doctor was leaning against the console, his arms crossed on his chest. By all accounts, it seemed that he had been standing there for quite a while, pondering whether he should speak up.

"I'm not sure what you mean," you answered with a slight shake of your head.

For a moment, he didn't say anything. His bright, green eyes stared into you as if he was waiting for something but you couldn't be sure what for exactly. After a while of silence, he left his spot to make his way towards you. His rhythmic footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise empty TARDIS.

"I'm not sure either," he spoke in a mild tone, "but I can tell something turned you sour. Whatever it is, you don't have to do this alone."

The Doctor gently wrapped his lanky arms around you, while you didn't quite know what to do. The moment he tightened his grip around you, something heavy inside your viscera pulled you towards the ground. You grabbed his tweed jacket with as much force as you could possibly muster. It felt as if the moment you let go of the coarse material, your whole body would simply fall apart. That gaping hole in your chest you tried your best to ignore suddenly felt deeper like a beast whose insatiable appetite only grows as it devours. This hunger or whatever it really was felt absolutely awful, so painful it coursed through your veins and filled your entire body with suffering. The Doctor gently shifted his body and your hands only tightened their grip on him as if there was no greater horror in this universe than him letting go of you.

"Just hold me," you whispered. "I'm lonely."

And he did just that.

Sometimes you thought about that one time you had asked the Doctor whether he slept. Truthfully, you never did see him sleep and somehow he was always full of energy. Did Time Lords not need rest? They were, after all, a very exceptional sort of aliens. In response, he only looked at you with a confused expression. "Why would I?" he asked, "It's eight more hours without you." You never did believe them but then, when the fourth place and the first place were equals for a moment, you thought that perhaps he did, in fact, mean them.

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phantomstatistician · 9 months

Text

Fandom: Doctor Who

Character: River Song

Sample Size: 6,435 stories

Source: AO3

#river song #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor #tenth doctor #jack harkness #missy #clint barton #eighth doctor #rose tyler #clara oswald #doctor who #fanfiction #ao3 #statistics #phantom statistician

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

Text

Episode 5: The Unknown Subject

Doctor Who : Multishot

Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 3413

Warnings: some gunshots. some blood. some violence. some virus warfare. some of the oncoming storm. River taking matters into her own hands... inspiration and some lines came from Criminal Minds Season 4 Episode 24 “Amplification.”

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: A skilled team of FBI tactical profilers analyze the country’s most prevalent oncoming disasters, anticipating the criminal mind’s next moves before they can inflict doomsday.

Episode 4: The New Heir

Episode 5: The Unknown Subject {You Are Here}

Episode 6: Dr. Smith

The DAU was overrun with representatives of all international governments. The army was instructing team members under the FBI and CIA to form search parties abroad in each country. Agents were conversing with contacts across seas as they tried to get everyone on the same page about the suspect.

SSA Smith was in the conference room having a heated discussion with other leaders and officials. They could all see him fuming behind the glass walls.

Jack was leaning into Donna, muttering some theories about where they were going to be stationed next. “I heard the professor was last seen in France.”

“She crossed the border after the stunt in London,” Donna agreed, readjusting her blazer as new agents caught her eye. “I think John’s talking to the Prime Minister and the president of France.”

Rory was sitting at his desk, glasses pushed up his nose, “He’s been tense.”

(Y/N) agreed, folding her arms and standing next to the rest of her team. The Doctor had been avoiding her as of late. He had become this hardened, cold-shouldered character since the last reality.

It was hard to associate him with her Doctor. He was so dark and strict and to-the-point. But she could see the split second of recognition in his green eyes when he looked at her.

He still looked at her with fondness.

“You think the professor will cook up some new disease?” Donna asked rather morbidly, “After we traced the last one?”

“Well, with the CDC already synthesizing a cure after the last attack,” Rory said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to create a 2.0 version to throw us through a loop.”

Jack nodded towards the conference room, “Look. He’s calling us in. Time for another debriefing.”

The team walked determinedly through the crowds of agents and military personnel, climbing the ramp to get to their seats.

The Doctor had his arms folded, already introducing their guest before they all sat down.

“Hello everyone, this is Dr. Martha Jones, chief of special pathogens with the CDC.”

(Y/N) nodded to the woman she recognized as a past companion of the Doctor. But the Martha here didn’t know her – she just looked worried with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Hello, I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances,” Martha said. “The target, Professor River Song, has been developing an unknowable strain of virus capable to compete with our most deadly naturally occurring viruses.”

“She’s already tried that,” Jack said, “We’re creating a cure, aren’t we?”

The Doctor frowned, “She’s struck again with an entirely new strain – in Lyon, France.”

“Oh my god,” Donna whispered.

“Last night, 47 people checked into hospitals with similar symptoms,” Martha began, “And by this morning 22 of those people have died.”

Jack took a seat, “Damn.” He set his jaw, “Were you able to detect the virus?”

“Yes,” Martha said, “Disease control centers across the world have taken samples and are working around the clock to create a new cure.”

“In the meantime,” the Doctor said, “We have to apprehend the professor before she strikes again. We have reason to believe she’s entered the United States. She may have been spotted at the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport in Georgia.”

Rory piped up, “But she didn’t attack the airport?”

“No,” said Martha.

“Then what are we doing about other potential mass targets?” Rory continued, “Malls, trains, subways?”

The Doctor sighed, “There’s a media blackout. We can’t tell the public.”

“There’d be a mass exodus,” Jack nodded in agreement, “The panic would end up killing more people.”

“We’re heading to Georgia,” the Doctor said, “Wheels up in five. Thank you Dr. Jones.”

Martha nodded to him, “I’ll be your direct contact for the cure. I’ll let you know of any developments.”

The team all stood and made for the elevators to pack for their coming trip. Martha followed to converse with the military scientists outside. (Y/N) remained behind with the Doctor, anxiously waiting for him to look at her.

“Doctor,” she said cautiously, “Are you okay?”

It looked like he was hardly breathing, “Perfectly fine.”

“You don’t sound like yourself,” she continued, “I can tell you’re upset.”

“Why would I be upset?” he said lowly, “I only learned that a close friend of mine wants to kill you.”

He went to exit the conference room, but (Y/N) stepped in front of the door.

“I wasn’t going to die.”

“Yes,” he said darkly, his voice deep and angered, “You would’ve.”

“But not in reality. Not in our true reality,” she pressed, “This is a dream, Doctor – you know that.”

“How can you be so sure dying in here doesn’t mean you’ll die in real life?” he asked, brow furrowed.

Gone was his dancing fingers and giddy steps. Gone was his childlike smile and eccentric movements. He was tall and cold and angry.

“I trust River,” she said quietly, “Her logic is sound.”

“But unproven,” he said, “We don’t know what’s keeping us here. It could be dangerous to wake up. There has to be another way.”

There was the strange tingle of anticipation growing. The dream was about to zap them to the next scene. They had been off script for too long.

“This isn’t up for debate, (Y/N),” he said.

She hated the way he looked at her like he couldn’t fully see her. He was clouded by the storm that had developed and resided within him. The Oncoming Storm.

Something sparked in her stomach. The reason he became like this was because she almost died. Because he cared about her so much he was willing to do anything to keep her safe.

~~~

(Y/N) was suddenly sitting in a booth in a local Georgia café. Across from her was Jack, sipping a massive chocolate milkshake.

It seemed like a more Jack thing to do rather than this FBI agent character. It almost made her smile.

“You sure you don’t want some?” he asked, biting off the candied cherry.

She slumped into the booth, “I’m okay, thanks.” She looked around to see if any of the other team members were there. “I wouldn’t want to spill on my suit.”

Jack looked amused, “And you think I will? Am I a messy eater?”

“The worst,” she snickered. But her mind was still clouded with the interaction with the Doctor. He had looked so angry.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Jack said, swirling his straw around. “Don’t be coy, I know that look.”

She gave a nervous smile, “John?” The scripted lines came out of her easily while her mind dwelled on the dilemma at hand. “We had an argument.”

“Obviously,” Jack said with rolling eyes, “We all saw you in the conference room. He’s just worried about you is all.”

“I know, and it’s infuriating.”

Jack sighed, “You had a close call last case – you almost died.” He contemplated his next sentence for a second, “I think Smith realized that it was possible to lose you.”

“That was always a possibility.”

“But he got a taste of it,” Jack leaned in, putting emphasis on his words, “He had a taste of those feelings – of that loss – and it terrified him.”

(Y/N) could feel her heart snap into motion. It might’ve been a script, but what Jack was saying made total sense to the Doctor as well.

There had been a pattern to all of these dreams. And she was starting to see it.

“You’re making it sound like…”

Jack clicked his tongue, “Like he’s in love with you?” He grinned, “That’s because he is.”

Every dream had a theme of getting the Doctor and (Y/N) together. In the New York apartment there was the tender moment they shared in the coffeehouse. In the fantasy realm he rescued her from an arranged marriage – had said I love you to each other. In the old English estate they were prompted to be friendly with one another in hopes of an eventual marriage.

There had never been a spoken word between them about being anything more than friends, than companions. Sure there had been initial attraction but it was quickly set aside when it was evident the Doctor wasn’t interested.

Or was he.

Perhaps (Y/N) had been blinded by her own efforts to avoid greater feelings. It made traveling with him easier. If she had developed true love with him then the entire companionship would be at risk of falling apart.

But as Jack started rambling on about the evidence he had gathered on why John was in love with her, she continued to connect dots.

These dreams were tailored to the Doctor.

When he wanted to catch River Song for what she did, the dream state changed into a reality where that was plausible. It was set in a crime drama where they caught bad guys.

Somehow the Doctor was in charge. He might not even realize it.

“I’ve completely stumped you, haven’t I?” Jack asked, setting his milkshake aside, “Hard to believe Smith is capable of love, huh.”

“Not entirely.”

Jack looked up quick, “Really?”

(Y/N) shrugged, eyes glazed as she tried to pull herself out of her deep thought. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy crack a smile, let alone express an ounce of affection.”

She became reminiscent of the Doctor that was the opposite. The one that was all smiles and all doting affection. Was her safety really the reason for him acting so different?

“But I do know that I’ve never seen him more relaxed than when he’s with you,” Jack said with a growing smirk. “You bring out the best in him.”

“And the worst,” she said quietly, “Evidently.”

Jack threw a few dollars on the table, “It’s gotta be nice to be loved that much though.”

She wrung her hands, “We have to go meet Smith and Pond.”

“I’m telling you…” Jack said, leading the way outside and brandishing a pair of sunglasses, “You gotta say something to him. The poor guy is hopeless when it comes to first moves. Trust me, I’ve worked with the guy for years.”

(Y/N) walked alongside him, making sure her firearm and badge were secured at her belt. “I don’t think he’s in the mood for any love confessions.”

“He’s never in the mood,” Jack said with a laugh. He slung his arm around her shoulders, always the light heart. “But if you’re so concerned with why he’s upset, maybe you need to talk about it.”

“I tried this morning,” she grumbled, his bouncing steps infectious.

Jack squeezed her shoulder, “Then you try again. He might not be an easy man. But he’s a good man.”

She wholeheartedly agreed with that statement. The Doctor was a complicated, eccentric genius who made things more difficult than they had to be. But he was also the loveliest, most generous man who gave the best hugs.

And they deserved to get out of there. And (Y/N) had to get through to him somehow – even with him being stuck in this arrogant, gruff character.

She spotted the Doctor and Amy through the windows of the local police station. They seemed to be discussing something as they looked over a city map. Jack led them across the street and towards the entrance.

He gave her a playful wink as they walked into their work room.

“(Y/N),” said Amy, always looking her best in her professional attire. She was usually underestimated by the agents, but always made the looks on their faces all the more amusing when she proved them wrong.

“Have you found anything?” she asked, avoiding a glance in the Doctor’s direction.

Amy shook her head, “We’re waiting on some intel in central Atlanta. Our profile has led us to believe that the professor will plan an attack at the Atlanta History Center.”

The Doctor muttered, “It’s a historical museum. A place she might enjoy.” He flashed his eyes toward (Y/N) and they both dwelled on their archeologist of a friend. River would love old museums.

“What intel are we waiting for?” Jack asked, eyeing their position on the city map.

Amy scrolled through her phone, “They’re verifying that the professor was spotted in the vicinity. Noble and Williams are giving out the profile and monitoring the surveillance.”

“Let’s not start a panic at the museum unless we have to,” the Doctor said, rubbing hard at his face.

“Understood,” Jack said.

But (Y/N) had fixated on the scruff of the Doctor’s jaw. It was so strange to see him like that. He looked older. He looked more tired. He looked… like an adult.

She wanted his little toyshop salesman self to come out and make some childish remark about the taste of custard cream or the boredom of taxes.

“Can I have a moment alone with (Y/N).” The Doctor was still looking away as his colleagues shared looks.

Jack and Amy cleared their throats, sidling out of the room with quick steps.

(Y/N) wrung her hands again, feeling the uneasiness of an unscripted moment.

“Doctor…”

“You’re going to stay here when we go apprehend River Song.”

“Excuse me?” the words became lodged in her throat, “You can’t do that.”

He gave her a heated stare, “I’m not risking you getting hurt.”

“Doctor, how many times do I need to tell you not to worry. This isn’t real. I won’t really get hurt.”

“Did that Spanish flu hurt?” he asked, emotion flaring in his eyes, “Did laying in your sickbed hurt you?”

It did. But she knew there wasn’t any permanent damage. It was just a dream.

“I’ll wake up,” she said quietly, “It would force me awake.”

He gritted his teeth, “And what if it doesn’t?”

“God, I’d risk it, Doctor! We can’t stay stuck in here for the rest of our lives.”

He looked conflicted, “But it hasn’t been so bad, has it? The roles we’ve played.”

“That’s all it is, Doctor. It’s all play. It’s not real. I want to get back to our real lives.”

“You’re real,” he deadpanned, uncharacteristically still as he stood his ground. “You’re enough for me.”

She blanked. Her mind sifted out of her ears as she scrambled to form words. “Doctor… there are more realistic ways to have a life with me. You don’t have to dream one up.”

His shoulders stiffened, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I have a feeling you might.” She took a step forward, “You can’t create some fictional life with me where we play these characters that live normal married human lives.”

“We’ve never been married,” he said quickly.

“I had a feeling the next one might have us be,” she said just as fast. “It shifts to your wants, Doctor. But what you want here… right now – it’s not what I want. I can’t play a character and pretend that I’m happy with all this.”

His fingers started to fidget like they use to on their adventures, “You’re not happy.”

She lightly shook her head. “I want to go home.”

“You’re not happy here with me.” He said it more to himself then to her.

But she quickly cut in, “I’m happy with you on the tardis. I’m happy with you back in our own lives.” Her hands rose to clutch at her chest, “Please, Doctor – this isn’t right. We have to wake up.”

“There has to be another way than dying!” he said, furious again.

There was a whoosh of air and the pair of them were standing outside of a historical building, groups of people running around in a panic.

Their talk of the real world had them flying to the next scene.

They were clad in bullet proof vests, guns poised in their hands. Wires crept up their backs and into their ears. They could hear the rest of their team asking for orders and the whereabouts of Professor River Song.

“No,” the Doctor growled, addressing (Y/N). “You are staying here while I find River.”

“Like hell I am,” she cried back, taking off for the museum.

“(Y/N)!” the Doctor yelled, “It isn’t safe.”

The screams of the bystanders became muted as she searched for their friend. Seeing her here would mean River was sucked into the dream world too. She could no longer manipulate the rules of the dream.

Her feet pounding into the cement, she frantically searched the faces of the crowd. The Doctor was getting lost behind her, being swarmed by the public.

She cried out, “River! River I’m here!” She kept her finger off the trigger, but her gun was still brandished. “River Song!”

Then in the distance she heard a voice cry back, “(Y/N)?”

She flew around, there at the edge of the building was a pile of crazed, curly hair. She had her own gun at her hip.

“How did you get here?” (Y/N) asked, “Did you get pulled in?”

“Unfortunately,” River said, meeting her friend with a hug. “But I can still try to pull us out.”

(Y/N) eyed her gun, “You trying to get back in prison for murdering someone?”

River shrugged, “This is just a nightmare. None of it is real.”

“Feels real,” (Y/N) whispered, staring at the gun, “I suppose that’s what scares you awake.”

The gun was raised and aimed for (Y/N), “That’s the theory.”

“The Doctor’s not so sure.”

“He gets skeptical when it comes to the safety of those he loves.”

“People keep telling me that,” (Y/N) said, holstering her gun.

River took a deep breath, taking aim, “That he worries for your safety?”

“No,” (Y/N) said, “That he loves me.”

“Maybe you should take the hint,” the professor laughed, “This should only sting a little.” Her eyes flickered to behind (Y/N), “Incoming.”

“Hands in the air!” came the voice of Amy, “I said hands up!”

Jack was right behind her, “(Y/N), where is your gun?”

“It’s alright,” she responded over her shoulder, “I’ll see you guys when we wake up.” She gave a nod towards River Song.

She nodded back, firing three gunshots.

Red hot pain ran through (Y/N)’s lower abdomen. Two shots barely clipped the vest, but the third lodged itself near her hipbone, but definitely into her major organs. It was true, the shock and adrenaline that coursed her system made the bullets only slightly hurt.

She was falling to her knees when more shots were fired. In the distance she could see River Song fall to the ground.

The pain was sharp but was growing into something dull and achingly present. A hand pressed to her stomach came back coated in bright blood. The life was beginning to slip between her fingers.

“(Y/N)!” came a cry from above. Rough hands grasped at her body, pulling her in a way that made her wounds flare up.

She cried out, “Stop!” Her fingers were weak where she grabbed at the arms around her. It was hard to see – her vision was blurry. Her ears were full of a buzz.

But it was the Doctor that cradled her now, “What did you do?” he whispered. “What did you do?”

There was a crack in his voice and her heart began to hurt just as much as the rest of her body.

~~~

There was an insistent beeping somewhere next to her. The air smelled sterile and stuffy with disinfectant.

Her fingers picked at the cotton sheets around her. There was something taped to the back of her hand.

Opening her eyes, she spotted the IV drip. After adjusting she noticed the white walls and old machines measuring her heartrate.

She quickly lifted the blankets to look at her abdomen. After a quick inspection she realized that there weren’t any bandages. There was no evidence at all that she was shot just minutes before. Her skin was clear.

“Dammit,” she whispered, her head falling back into the pillows. They had jumped to another reality.

A crash against her windows had her looking for the source.

There, clad in scrubs and white lab coats, was Amy and Rory. The pair of them kissing like they were hungry for their last meal. Pressed against the window they were unabashed as they consumed each other.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Great… they were stuck in a medical drama now.

And something else had become evident. The Doctor might have more control over the dream than she realized.

It was apparent that if the Doctor didn’t want to wake up, then (Y/N) wasn’t going to wake up either.

~~~

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