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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.”

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #doctor who imagine #eleventh doctor imagine

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c0ffinshit · 6 months

Text

I Can See You (11th Doctor x Reader) Smut Oneshot

a/n: welcome to the first part of my short story collection called “The Doctor Will See You Now.” i hope you all as excited as i am! word count: 3,833 warnings: teachers au, fluff, soulmate au (if you squint), little dialogue, age gap, mentions of sex and masturbation before the smut, praise kink, vanilla cunnilingus

"And we kept everything professional, but something's changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best that we move fast and keep quiet." - Taylor Swift

1956, somewhere towards the tail end of England, a doctor sits at his desk, looking over at the same pieces of papers. Homework from his first batch of classes. He puts his hands on his face. Sure, every teacher should be worried about the brilliance of their students. But that wasn’t what he was worried about. He was apprehensive about his newly hired teaching assistant, (Y/N) (L/N).

He thought you were a bright young woman, keeping your hair neat and all your clothes clean and ironed. He always wanted to keep his distance from you. So he doesn’t repeat what happened with his past teaching assistant. The Doctor wanted a clean record. He pushes away from his desk in his chair, finally getting ready to go home. But his mind began to wander.

Earlier in the day, you spoke with him about a future project, seeing who would be willing to participate and pass it. When the end of the conversation came to a head, you giggled at one of his attempts at a joke. You pull at your skirt a little. He notices more of your thigh, including a small accidental flash of your undergarments. It just happened. He didn’t want to make you more nervous than you seemed, so he didn’t speak to anyone about it. A secret he could have all to himself. Something to ruin with his own sick and twisted imagination. Innocent, turned dirty by his own hand.

You sat alone in your apartment, as you always did. There wasn’t much to do when all you could do was think about that Doctor. His smile, the way his eyes would focus on you when you spoke. It was always those little things that drove you mad about him. You began to wonder what he thought of you. Did he think you were pretty? Did he want you to wear shorter skirts again?

You thought about spying on your neighbors again.

You pull the blanket closer to your chest as you get up and listen to your neighbors, an older married couple. Typically, you would study them silently, a cup to the wall, taking notes of everything they did together. Tonight wasn’t any different. The wife was cooking dinner for him, kissing and making one another laugh. Them being as intimate as you imagined yourself with the Doctor.

A few months before you met him, you studied day and night. Your dream of working at a college was on the horizon. When the day finally came, you walked up to the stage and accepted your fate as an English professor. As you looked for jobs, your heart began to sink deeper and deeper into your chest. It didn’t seem like anyone was looking to hire a fresh-out-of-college English teacher anywhere.

Suddenly, you find a job at a college as a teaching assistant. An assistant? You went to school for six years, and the only job available at a college was a teaching assistant. With a defeated sigh, you called the college and scheduled an interview. After said interview, it took them a few days to finally get back to you about the job. Once you opened your mailbox for the fourth time that week, a letter accepting you into their system greeted you. It contains the usual things, even saying you would be working with the Doctor, the most respectable man in the institution’s history.

The Doctor quietly shut the door of his pearl-white car. After hopping from century to decade to millennium, he thought it would be time to slow down and get serious about what he wanted. Sex wasn’t crucial, but the Doctor wanted something to call his own. Having a lover in his life wasn’t that important either, but he wanted you more than anything. The Doctor never wanted someone that bad before. He was tired of running, walking, and time-traveling. A hot cup of tea and you were all he needed.

The key turns with his hand, turning the car on with a small ding. He wanted to go anywhere but back to the TARDIS. The TARDIS was lonely and quiet, filled with knobs and future technology. The only other place he knew was your apartment. Your apartment had old books, statues of pilgrim girls, and a TV that didn’t have many channels. The place smelled of old wax long melted away, and cracks in the plaster lined almost every wall. Your apartment felt like it could cave in at a moment’s notice. But in his mind, he would rather spend the rest of his night in a place with thin walls and the same few reruns on the same few channels than a place he called home for so many years.

So that settles it. The Doctor backs out of his spot in the large parking lot, turning left towards the exit gate.

You had actually met the Doctor long before you had ever realized. When you were in your later high school years, the new science teacher had gone missing a few days before the school was set to open for classes. The Doctor had been on his own for a while by this point. Amelia and Rory had died at the dreadful hands of a weeping angel, unable to enjoy any of his new misadventures. Before Clara, the Doctor knew that the absence of Rory and Amelia would send him down a path of risky choices and, ultimately, his own new pain to heal, as a fresh wound would cross over a scar. In almost a manic state, he thought he could pull off being a high school teacher. But not any teacher, your new science teacher. A part of him thought this would be an easy way to find a new companion one way or another. Whether it be a teacher looking for a new way to spice up their life or a young woman looking for a new boy to fawn over. The Doctor was a shoo-in for the job with mature teaching ability but with a kind, funnier side, keeping the topics of biology and chemistry light with jokes and foxy comments.

One of the few things he remembers about that year was when you talked to your friends. Quiet whispers during class would quickly become loud, bombastic laughter the minute the bell rang. He only listened when the conversation would turn to your secret crush on him. Your friends nudged you during group work whenever his eye lingered on you. The way they giggled when he made a vaguely inappropriate joke. But that was your friends; you were a different story. It was clear to him that you were smart, just purposely failing for one reason or another. Whenever he would pull you aside to speak about it, your eyes would glaze over as you watched his eyes sink into yours. The minute the conversation ended, you would run off to hide until your next class. You wondered why you couldn’t be normal about him. The Doctor was two years older than you, or so he said. But it could be that wrong, could it?

Your hands continued to pull up the blanket, pulling it over your head. At this point, you didn’t want to be reminded how much you desired the Doctor. How badly you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or whisper sweet nothing to you as your eyes fluttered shut. Still, you can’t help but listen. The couple is eating dinner peacefully, talking about their days at work. But out of your window, you see the Doctor’s car pull up just outside your building.

As he finally pulls up to your apartment building, he sees you with your orange blanket over your head, leaning against the wall. The Doctor glances up, watching you and thinking about the massive mistake he is making. The wind pushes his hair out of his face.

‘This can’t be the right thing to do.’ He thought as he opened the car door anyway. He continues looking up. That’s when your eyes meet his. You move away from the wall and walk to the window, looking down at him.

Panic sets in. As if you had summoned him using your mind into your apartment’s parking lot. The second you look back out the window, the Doctor is gone. The panic feeling suddenly gets worse. You sit back down on the couch, trying to avoid the future sound of a doorbell ringing. Your ears lead back to your neighbors, still eating and laughing.

Your doorbell buzzes, followed shortly by another buzz. The last thing you needed was a big, grand scene in your loud apartment building. The Doctor stands outside your door, waiting. He thought about how impatient he would be if this were any other person. If there’s one thing the Doctor knew about being alive, it was that time moved so much slower than ever. But as he thought, the Doctor realized the faint feeling of calm whenever he thought about you. That’s why he could never get mad at you for not answering the door. The two hearts in his chest beat like one. As the Doctor fidgeted with his fingers, soft rain crawled against the glass of your window, still not letting the poor man in.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ The Doctor thinks as he opens the door to your apartment building and walks up each step.

The Doctor knocks on the door, waiting for you to answer. It's not like he can leave you after scaring you like that. The Doctor almost doubts you will answer the door, leaving him in his soaking wet clothes. He shakes his head. You are one of the sweetest people the Doctor has ever known. In his mind, you are the reason he kept running. Not to save the world across multiple timelines with different companions each time, shedding his skin every so often. But to find you every time, in every universe, and in the same apartment building.

You look over to the door again, still thinking about opening it. The series of unfortunate events goes as follows in your mind: You get up from the couch and open the door to the Doctor just awkwardly standing there; the two of you break out into a conversation about what he happens to be doing at your apartment on a Saturday night after work, he proclaims his love for you and you, out of fear, reject him. The Doctor goes on a big rant about how you should really give him a chance. But by this point, you can only hear your heart beating, so you slam the door in his face.

I mean, isn’t that the way it always goes?

Sure, you did actually like him, but it was not like you were planning on telling him anytime soon. It's not like you feared his reaction; the Doctor isn’t exactly at the top of the scariest individuals ever. And yet, your legs pick up for your body from the couch and walk over the door. You place your hand gingerly on the doorknob, turning it slowly.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ You think as you open the door.

Upon opening the door, the Doctor’s head pops his head up. He smiles. You try to avoid his gaze, unlike how you did when you were a schoolgirl.

"Fancy seeing you here." You mumble.

The Doctor’s hand twitches as he hears you speak. It felt so good hearing your voice again, even though he had heard it earlier that day. You shyly look up, still avoiding direct eye contact. The Doctor’s eyes softly as he sees you look up. He could sense how nervous you were, but he wanted to tell you he wasn’t there to hurt you. In his arms, he would make everything feel good. "Listen, um," The Doctor started, trying to keep his thoughts in one place.

"I wanted to come here and say…" The Doctor’s voice trails off. He doesn’t know how to put this.

"You love me?" You reply, trying to keep your voice down.

The Doctor didn’t think it would be that clear that the feeling was that obvious. It didn’t help how you said it, so matter-of-fact, which you didn’t detect. Maybe you did know that you pulled your skirt as a sign of flirting.

That part was valid that, over time, you had been flirting with the idea of being with the Doctor. Including playing with your skirt when you knew he was looking. Sure, you did other things to get him to notice you, like wearing makeup to highlight your eyes or shorter skirts and tight shirts.

But he never bothered to actually flirt with you. It could’ve been possible that he thought you had a partner or, god forbid, you were married. You had never told him about such people because you had none to speak of. No lover to call your own.

"Um, yeah, something like that." He laughs awkwardly.

Your face flushed with the red hue of your blood, and your heart started beating faster. You thought you were going to die. Your eyes meet his. This has never happened before. A new feeling washes over you.

Love. No longer an innocent, flirty crush. He felt like a lover at that moment. You grab his face and pull him into a passionate kiss, dropping your orange blanket onto the carpet floor of the hallway. His lips were soft, although a bit wet. Meanwhile, the night sky became darker, and rain began to fall, hitting against your windows. The winds outside, once soft and free, became harsh and fast.

You pull him into your apartment, careful not to trip over or break anything. Your kiss was like that as well; it was unbreakable and wistful. You wanted him more than anything at that moment. He pulled away for a second and uttered the words you dreamed about hearing: "I want you."

The Doctor said he wanted you. Something just clicked in your head. Nothing was holding you back at this point. You begin to untie his iconic bowtie and unbutton his shirt, his tan blazer falling to the floor. The Doctor told himself to remain calm and sensual. One of the many things that made you squirm in your seat and have a slight blush on your cheeks was when he remained mysterious and alluring. That was the only thing that was a constant. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, his nose ghosting over your neck.

You, on the other hand, didn’t care what he did. As long as your hands were on his body and vice versa, the rest didn’t matter. The last thing that mattered was staying calm. The Doctor lets out a soft moan. You place your body back on the couch again, looking at the man you’ve been craving all this time. He loved that your eyes flickered like a candle in the wind. Your body moved in a way that was borderline pornographic, slowly moving from side to side. He notices this and moves on top of you, his knee closer to your heat. It’s like he knew your body in and out, predicting your every move.

‘Gently, now.’ He thought as his hands moved closer to the side of your breasts, cupping them in his bony hands.

Your cunt twitches at the feeling. The Doctor held you like you were a wine glass. Which, in his mind, was the only way to touch you. He may have only known you for a few months; he wasn’t ready to let you leave his touch yet.

After all, he’s the only Time Lord left. He’s had so many companions that, after a while, it became hard to keep track of. After falling in love with so many different people, it felt impossible to feel that kind of love again. Then, he was in 1951, in the middle of a busy high school hallway, struggling to find himself or where his room was. A lovely young woman walks by, struggling to hold her books. The Doctor locks eyes with her and asks her the time. She replies: “1:30.” That was when the Doctor finally knew he was in the right place, at the right time.

The Doctor moves down to the neck, planting gentle kisses as he moves. You let out a soft moan, careful to make your neighbor not hear. Your mother always told you to settle down soon and have a husband to care for you. To be frank, she wasn’t clear about the husband part. Sometimes, a husband is an extraterrestrial from a distant planet, most likely older than one thousand years old.

"Please," you beg softly.

"Are you sure?" He asks, knowing he might regret it if you say no.

You nod your head.

He nods back.

The Doctor crawls down your body, taking in every part of you. Your biceps were held neatly above your head, and your breathing got heavier the lower he went. He positioned one knee on the plush carpeted floor. The Doctor's breathing slowed as the Doctor went under your nightdress.

The Doctor hooks your panties and pulls them down, exposing your wet pussy. He unthinkingly pockets the underwear, letting a part of the soft cotton peek out as a reminder of you. Taking a finger, the Doctor gently flicks under the hood of your clit. As you can imagine, sex isn’t something the Doctor doesn’t get to have often, so he is a bit rusty. He could feel his two hearts beat with every soft flick of his finger. Your body twitches for a second, praying for more contact. He suddenly got the idea to slip a single finger inside of you. Even the thought of the moans you would let out made his already hard dick almost painful.

"I’m going to put a single finger inside you, okay?" He stated, "If you don’t like it, tell me, okay?"

"Yes," You say softly.

"Yes, what?" The Doctor repeats.

You think for a moment. "Yes, Doctor."

He smirks, "Good girl."

His fingertip touches the wet walls of your cunt. His middle finger gently pushes against your G-spot, making you whimper.

‘She wants more.’

Of course, being the lovely Doctor, he continues to nurse your G-spot but starts to kiss your inner thighs. His lips were a faint red and slick with spit. Teasing was one of the many things he wanted to try, but he never found the right partner. He understood that this is what you needed. You felt so pent up with sexual frustration. Year after year, you felt more disappointed with the partners in your life, sexually speaking. And yet the Doctor, after knowing you for so little time, could read your body like a book. Through desperation, the Doctor managed to undo his tight belt and unzip his beige dress pants with his free hand. He starts to palm his cock through his boxers as he continues.

"Please…more." She whines, getting tired of all the teasing.

He chuckles, "Sorry, I got carried away. Don’t worry, I’ve got you."

The Doctor thrusts his ring finger inside, plunging slightly into your canal. As he glances down at your poor, throbbing clit, he notes that it looks like a pink pearl inside of an oyster. He places a gentle kiss on it and mumbles something inaudible. Your back suddenly arches up as the waves of pleasure carry over you again. Honestly, you hadn’t felt anything like it before. It almost felt inhuman. The whimpers were now replaced with a slightly louder moan. You start slowly grinding at the air, hoping for any contact with him. His touch on your clit was all you could think about.

"That’s it, good girl. God, you deserve this more than anyone right now." The Doctor says. The Doctor continues to work on your clit, starting with soft cat-like licks. His hands ran slowly up your calves.

This was it. The moment the Doctor had been waiting for, the moment to be close to you. It was never how he imagined it, but honestly, he would have cared less. To run his hands up your legs as the Doctor continued to tease you felt like something the Doctor would come up with on a boring night in the TARDIS. It reminds him of all the times he daydreams about unbuttoning those perfect blouses you always wore when there was an important meeting you have to attend. Sure, those types of daydreams were few and far between. It didn’t stop his sick imagination much from thinking about it anyway whenever you got just a little too close to his face.

You could hardly contain every moan or groan that came out of your body. It felt involuntary. Your soft hands move down and grab a part of the Doctor's luscious dark brown hair. The desire for him to be rougher with you was growing stronger by the minute. Sure, being romantic and sensual is always an idea you love. But this is the Doctor. Everything is different with him. With the Doctor, the romance could be thrown aside if he wants. If he wants to tie you up and degrade you, you are willing to buy the rope and let your eyes roll into the back of your skull for pleasure.

"More," you encourage, "Don’t be scared. I don’t bite."

The Doctor’s eyes look up at you, meeting your eyes.

Your eyes seemly convey everything he thought about on the humble drive over. The emphatic love you two have been feeling, along with the unchecked sexual tension the two of you also have. The Doctor went from soft and cat-like to expansive and slow. He relaxes the back of his tongue against your clit and moans, his delicate eyes still looking up at you.

The sense of human eye contact can be used in many ways. And it is clear that as your eyes start to flutter, you are closing in on your climax. The Doctor knows that he has to keep an invariant pace so as not to lose the orgasm. Most people would describe a good peak as “seeing stars” or “leg shaking.” Yours, however, was more like seeing a whole nebula and jittering. As the spasm came and went, your vision went from blurry to clear in seconds. You sit up on the couch, looking down at a kneeing Doctor.

Touching his cheek with your hand, the Doctor smiles, grazing his smile against it.

Your eyes go wide at a sudden realization, "Doctor, you didn’t–"

Before you can finish your sentence, the Doctor sits next to you on the couch.

"That’s not what matters. What matters is that you did." He spreads his arms out, pulling you into a hug. You roll your eyes jokingly and hug him back.

#send help #11th doctor #eleventh doctor #11th doctor x reader #2013 posting #doctor who #matt smith x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who smut

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am-i-obsessed---maybe · 7 months

Text

New Face (11th Doctor x Timelord!Reader)

watch me make a series out of a oneshot that was very much not meant to be a series— anyway, one david tennant hyperfixation led to another and now I'm rewatching Matt Smith's run as The Doctor and you know what that means!

Also requests are open!

Wordcount: 1.4k

Series masterpost

Summery: a new face a new doctor and the start of a new adventure with a lovely little girl who just wants a ride in a time machine.

Things change quickly with the Doctor. You knew that well.

One moment you're comforting the face that rescued you the next you're putting out fires around the Tardis as it wildly flies over the skies of London.

"A little help over here!" The Doctor cried, he's barely holding onto the edge of the Tardis, his body hanging out through the front doors. His new voice is higher than the one you knew.

"In a minute love!" You yell back, there was no other option than yelling over the explosions of the console and the many alarms going off.

Another explosion rocked the Tardis and the Doctor manages to pull himself up as you adjust the angle at which the Tardis is basically crashing towards the ground. There's no other option but to crash so you tried to crash in the least horrific way you could.

The thing is, you crash sideways, tipping you and the Doctor deep into the Tardis.

"Oh for fucksake—" You said as you landed against one of the couches in the library. "Oi! Language!" The doctor chided. He had the luck of landing with a big splash in the swimming pool that for some reason was in the library.

"Since when do you care about about language?" You asked him, helping him out of the pool.

"Since now evidently" He said and started looking around for ways to get out.

You handed him a grappling line.

"Care to do the honors?" You asked and he smiled, launching it as far as he could and when he felt it was stable he began to climb up.

When he finally made it to the Tardis doors you heard him talking to someone. You hadn't the faintest clue as to who.

"Love, make some room!" You called from below him and he climbed onto the Tardis, looking down.

"Woah, look at that" He said in awe as he looked at the Tardis. It was quite a view though you would have appreciated a hand as you climbed up to join him.

That's when you saw the little girl standing beside the Tardis in her nightie and bright bright red boots that matched her bright red hair. Well not really red. Human red, which was more of a copper.

"Hello there" You said, wiping the sweat from your brow.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Just had a fall, all the way down there right to the library. Hell of a climb back up" The Doctor told her.

"You're soaking wet" The little girl said.

"He landed in the swimming pool" You added.

She turned to look at the Doctor, "You said you were in the library".

"So was the swimming pool" He answered.

She looked a bit confused but quickly kept the questions coming.

"Are you a policeman?" She asked.

"Why? Did you call a policeman?" The Doctor asked, meanwhile you climbed down from the Tardis and onto the ground, inspecting the crash site.

"Did you come about the crack in my wall?" The little girl asked.

"What crack—" The Doctor started but he fell, clutching his chest as he groaned in pain.

You weren't worried. He was still coming off of his regeneration meaning he was practically invincible.

"Are you okay mister?" The little girl asked.

"I'm fine, it's okay, this is all perfectly normal" He said, some fleck of regeneration energy floating out of his mouth.

You turned back to the Doctor and the little girl, content with you assessments of the crash site.

"I'm sorry, we seem to have crashed into your shed" You said to the little girl and she looked between you and the Doctor.

"Who are you?" She asked and you smiled, leaning down to be at her eye level.

"My name is Y/N and he" You said, pointing at your lover who was currently watching the regeneration energy still filling his hands "-is The Doctor."

The Doctor got his bearings, or at least tried to, coming up beside you. "Does it scare you?" He asked.

"Does what scare me?" She asked.

"The crack in your wall, does it scare you?" He repeated.

"Yes" She answered, almost shyly.

This excited him. "Well then, no time to lose. Like he said I'm The Doctor, do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions and don't wander off" He said confidently and started walking.

"Love" You said and he turned his head back to face you, causing him to walk straight into the tree you wanted to warn him about.

The little girl walked over to him where he was just lying on the ground.

"You alright?" She asked.

"Early days" He said, "Steering's a bit off plus he distacted me" he said, pointing at you.

With a roll of your eyes you went over to help him up.

"You really should sit down and eat something love, you're running on fumes" You told him and shrugged.

"I'll be fine" He said and you sighed, turning to the little girl.

"Can you do me a favor and get him something to eat? Maybe then the two of you can have a look at that scary crack in your wall" You suggested and she nodded, you gave her The Doctor's hand and told her to be careful with him cause he's very iratible right now and he complained as the little girl walked with him into the house and you stayed outside with the Tardis.

You had a feeling this would be a regular thing with this new Doctor. You cleaning up after him.

You could already see so many differences between his old self and this new one.

Besides the obvious physical difference this new body was much more wild. He was already all over the place much more than your old Doctor. But he was also charming. You were sure you'd love him just as much once he figured himself out a bit more, after all he did the same for you.

All that time ago when you promised you would never leave him, when you told you loved him, when you stayed by his side even as the power of a sun was burning through his body. You stayed with him and regenerated and he helped you. He carefully picked you up and placed you back in the medbay of the ship you were on and when you woke up he helped you get accustomed to your new body and he kept loving you just like he did before. So you would do the same.

You checked the grappling line and when you were sure it would hold you went back into the Tardis.

nothing in the console room was on fire anymore which was good. You went one by one checking the systems and resetting what needed it. That is until the ringing started.

you hadn't actually gotten to checking the engines yet. The ringing was coming from the engines.

"No, no, no, no, no— Come on!" You cried as you tried to settle them.

"Just calm down a bit will you?" You tried to ask the Tardis but she wasn't having it.

"Y/N! What's going on in there?" The Doctor hollered as he ran out of the house.

"She's throwing a tantrum!" You yelled through the open Tardis doors.

"It's just a box, how can a box be throwing a tantrum?" The little girl said. You still didn't know her name.

"Not a box, it's a time machine" The Doctor said.

"What, a real one?" she asked, you popped your head out of the Tardis just enough to look at them.

"Doctor come on!" You said, popping back into the console room.

"Five minute hop into the future should do it" The Doctor said, climbing onto the Tardis.

"Can I come?" The girl asked.

"Not safe in here, five minutes, give me five minutes, I'll be right back" He said.

"People always say that" She said and the Doctor stopped, he climbed back down to the ground and kneeled in front of the little girl.

"Am I people?" He asked, "Do I even look like people? Trust me, I'm the Doctor" He said.

He climbed back onto the Tardis, gave the girl one last look and jumped in, "Geronimo!"

With him inside the ringing finally stopped.

"There you go, you just don't like it when Y/N drives" The Doctor cooed at the console.

You rolled your eyes.

"Doctor" You asked, "What did you tell that little girl?"

"I told her we'd be back in five minutes" He said, running around the console, hitting buttons and turning switches.

"Did you get her name?" You asked and he smiled.

"Yes! Amelia Pond! Brilliant name isn't it? Amelia Pond"

#male reader #doctor who x male reader #11th doctor x male reader #11th doctor #11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #timelord reader #amy pond #young amy pond #the tardis is cranky #reader insert

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hxney-lemcn · 10 months

Text

Just Let Me Help — Eleventh Doctor x gn! reader

summary: Getting injured on a mission leads reader to question their relationship with the Doctor. He will do his most to help them, even if he'll get hurt in doing so.

tw: Hurt/comfort (lots of comfort), injury, blood (alien blood but still)

a/n: I love him sm and he needs someone who is also immortal 😭😭😭 Also, I need more alien reader with the doctor </3

wc: 1.7k

Master List

(This can be stand alone, but the first part can be read here)

“Are you two like…a thing?” Rory asked. I was surprised at how well Rory handled everything, and how he even seemed to start to warm up to the Doctor.

I looked up from watching the Doctor work underneath the console of the Tardis, “Who? The Doctor and I?”

“Well…yeah,” Rory replied back awkwardly.

“Oh, uh, no. Just old friends,” I shrugged, his awkwardness falling onto me.

I can’t lie, I had fallen for the Doctor ages ago. No matter how he looked, how he acted, he would always be my beloved Doctor. And he never failed to fall on my doorstop, no matter where I went. He was the cure to my loneliness, someone who’d always be there, even if he was out traveling through time and space. I left my planet for a reason, and the Doctor understood. We were both outcasts in our own sense, and we’ve created a bond because of it.

“Could you hand me the wrench, dear?” The Doctor spoke up, oblivious to the conversation but also not helping my point.

“Right,” Rory replied skeptical. I rolled my eyes while simultaneously leaning down and handing the Doctor his wrench.

“His new regeneration is just affectionate, okay?” I whispered, feeling like I had to defend myself.

“Thanks dear,” The Doctor thanked, squeezing my hand gently in thanks before letting go completely.

“I didn’t say anything,” Rory replied, hands held up in mock surrender. I could see the glint in his eyes still.

“Shut up,” I pouted slightly. The Doctor's childishness has seemed to rub off on me.

“What are you two babbling about?” Amy asked, coming into the console room.

“Speculating about relationships,” The Doctor chimed up. I didn’t even realize he was walking up the stairs. Even so, I couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked with his goggles sitting in his hair. I tensed, feeling flustered that he caught on, even though I didn’t say anything wrong, or to show my feelings, I still felt like I was caught in a lie.

“Speculating?” I asked. “I was clarifying.”

The Doctor paused midstep, raked his eyes over my figure, an emotion I couldn’t place held in his gaze. He continued to the console like nothing even happened and clapped his hands.

“Where to now?”

______

“What are you doing!” The Doctor shouted, rushing towards me.

I gritted my teeth in pain as the Mihrol bit into my arm. With my other three arms, I tried to pry its jaw open. Mihrol were violent creatures, aggressive. I didn’t blame it, it wasn’t conscious of its own actions, only acting on its instincts. But it was going to attack the Doctor, so I decided to step in the way.

In fact, I felt bad for the creature. Even with its teeth bared into my arm, its fate was set as soon as it ingested my blood. Perhaps…I shouldn’t have stepped in the way, as I was now a danger to anyone who tried to help. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper as the Mihrol’s body slumped, and its jaw weakened enough for me to pry it off. Glittery blue blood continued to seep from my arm as the others got to me.

“Stop!” I shouted as Rory tried to approach me.

“I’m a nurse!” He argued. “I can help.”

“No you can’t,” The Doctor said calmly, stepping in between his companions and I. “They’re a Zeknil. Blue blood littered with cleythil, a poison that can penetrate even the thickest of skin. It's why they’re blood glitters so brilliantly.”

I clutched my injured arm, stepping back, “I’ll need to take care of this on my own.” The Doctor stepped close to me and I glared at him, “That means no Doctor or nurse.”

“I can help you,” The Doctor whispered. “Its effects are severely diluted. There’s a reason why Zeknil’s and Gallifrey’s stuck together for all those years.”

“I won’t take that chance,” I shook my head. “Besides, you have a better chance of finding another Zeknil than finding the cure.”

I watched as frustration danced across his eyes the longer we argued, but I held my ground. I will not lose the one person that is supposed to be by my side forever. Not to anyone else, and definitely not because of my own choices.

“Go to the Tardis,” Doctor ordered Amy and Rory. “Tell her of the situation and she’ll lead you to a specific kit. Grab it and bring it to us.”

“You’re overreacting,” I grumbled. Ripping off a piece of my shirt and holding it to the wound to stop the bleeding. “It's gonna take a lot more to kill me than a bite.”

He stayed quiet, eyes trailing the path of my blood, up to my wound, then finally meeting my eyes. I felt my own heart break at the unshed tears he held. At that moment, I realized exactly what I meant to him. How I would’ve felt if he would’ve been hurt instead. The want to help the one you love, the need to not see them in pain.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, feeling that familiar pressure before you cry.

“At least you would be able to tend to me,” He laughed dryly, a tear rolling down his eye. “I wouldn’t have minded that.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me, the other option having been to cry, “Of course that’s what you say now. If you got hurt you would’ve been whining at me the entire time. I had to save myself from that.”

He laughed with me. Finally the others came back and I opened up this special kit and my eyes widened when I realized it was a first aid kit from my planet. I stared up at the Doctor in shock, but quickly went to tend to my wounds. I quite like how the bandages from my planet would meld to the injury just how you needed it to. Much better than human ones. As soon as that was all fixed up, I cleaned the blood from me as best as I could.

“Back to the Tardis everyone!” The Doctor exclaimed cheerfully, but I could tell that he was hiding his true emotions. “Best we get situated.”

“Shouldn’t we go back-”

“No, no, the threat is gone, the village is safe,” He waved Amy off, eyes never leaving me as we walked back to the Tardis.

When we entered, I went straight to my room. I needed to decompress, think. Whether it was the loss of blood, or the hot weather of the planet we were just on, my head felt fuzzy, thoughts running rampant.

The shower seemed to help me focus a bit more. Although they were things I didn’t want to focus on. That moment…the look in his eyes…it was such a powerful emotion. Like how I felt for him. But he couldn’t love me, not like how I loved him. He’s had many human companions that he’s fallen for when the two of us knew each other. And Rose…their love was something that transcended time and space. I didn’t hold a candle to her…not that she doesn’t deserve to be special. She was an amazing human, one of the few companions of the Doctor’s I got to meet.

I shook my head, I need to rest. Turning off the shower, I got into something comfortable before laying down in the room he’s provided me. In the morning, I should regenerate all my blood and my wound should be nearly fully healed. Hence why my race is seen as immortal. Our cells regenerate so fast that we live for thousands of years.

______

The smell of freshly cooked food woke me up. It smelled like one of my favorite meals from my home planet. Opening my eyes, I looked toward the source to see the Doctor himself placing a tray of food on the nightstand.

“Hello,” I muttered, sitting up with a yawn.

“Oh!” He replied startled. “Hello, good morning, how do you do?” He rambled on a few more greetings before he stopped.

“Is this how you’re going to tend to me?” I asked without realizing until a few ticks later. It was too late now, I already said it…and I was a bit curious.

A soft look made its way onto his sharp features, “Of course, dear. Anything and everything you want, just name it.”

My heart stuttered and constricted at the same time. Little does he know that he’s all I want, and I’m sure it's the one thing he can’t give. I shook my head softly, teasing but also dismissing his admission. I went to grab the tray but he batted my hand, taking the tray himself and sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Now now,” He tutted. “I’m here to tend to you, open wide.”

“I’m not a child,” I huffed, lightly glaring at him.

Nudging my face with the fork filled with food, he pouted, “Just indulge me.”

We stared at each other for a few more seconds, but his puppy dog eyes won me over and I hesitantly opened my mouth. His smile brightened as he continued to feed me while talking about whatever came to mind. Things he’d think I’d like, planets we could visit, foods I had to try. For a second, it made me feel special. Not special as in one of the few Zeknil left. Not special as in the species that worked hand in hand with Gallifrey from the start. I felt special to him. A dangerous feeling indeed.

“Let me help you,” The Doctor requested as I lifted my injured arm.

“You know I can’t let you,” I sighed. “The bandage is bloodied and I won’t chance you getting fucking poisoned because of me.”

“Language,” He murmured half-heartedly which caused me to chuckle lightly.

I let out a sigh, “How about this. I take off the bandage, clean up any residue blood, and if I deem it safe enough I’ll let you do the rest. Deal?”

“Deal.”

I did my part, my guess last night being accurate. My wound was almost fully healed, I probably didn’t even need to replace the bandage, but I let the Doctor do what he felt he needed to. His touch was so gentle, making sure he didn’t harm me any more than I already was. Once again my heart stuttered as he laid a gentle kiss on top of the new bandage.

“There you go,” He muttered. “All better.” “Thank you, Doctor.” I emphasized his name. “You really do live up to your name.”

#11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11 doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who #11th doctor #eleventh doctor #11 doctor #x reader

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 3 months

Text

Imagine the Doctor reminiscing about your arrival on the TARDIS...

"Do you remember the first thing you said when you walked into the TARDIS for the first time?" The Doctor asked.

Taking your eyes off the wiring in your hands, you glanced at the time-traveler. Of course you remembered.

The Doctor had told you that the first thing companions noticed was that the TARDIS was bigger on the inside but you - no, you said something else.

"I said it was beautiful."

Humming as the memory resurfaced, a smile planted itself as the Doctor watched you with an almost dreamy expression. "Yes, you did."

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #eleventh doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #ten x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #eleven x reader #twelfth doctor x reader #twelfth doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader #thirteen imagine #thirteen x reader

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chessholic · 2 months

Text

　ー　Feelings　ー

11th Doctor

(feat. 10th Doctor)

Summary: You didn't expect to meet the Doctor with a totally different face.

Author's Note: Hey! I am not super pleased with this. However I hope you enjoy it. Bare with me, I am getting better at this. :)

You cheerfully exited the TARDIS skipping down the cobble stone street. The Doctor couldn't help, but smile while his eyes shined all the love he held for you. You just didn't see it, maybe you were too afraid to.

"So, what are we doing?", you asked curiously turning to face him. You were in London shopping for something.

"I just need to buy some-", the Doctor came to a stop raising a finger to his chin. He seemed to be in deep thoughts.

It was rare because usually he was all over the place and you needed to watch out his hands that moved almost as fast as his rambling. So this quiet moment was something new.

"Blimey...", he muttered under his breath.

"You forgot again?", you asked smirking at his sarcastic smile to you. You skipped back to him and took his hand.

"Let's explore and maybe it will find us", you told him and pulled him with you.

The Doctor couldn't ignore how nice your hand felt in his, your hand was comforting, you couldn't get lost when you held his hand. And you tried your best to calm your beating heart and thoughts. The Doctor was your safe place, he gave you comfort.

If you only knew that the feeling was very mutual.

You two have dated for a while now, but you both were a bit afraid. The Doctor was already afraid of losing you and you were afraid of the pain it would cause him. You two hadn't kissed yet, the tension and idea lingering in the air, making it thick to breathe.

Sometimes the tension felt suffocating, so many emotions, but no one said anything.

The love you held for each other was evident, but neither of you had said the three magical words.

I love you

ー

You and the Doctor were exploring a huge market that was packed with people. At some point you two got separated. The panic was filling you, suffocating you. People were hitting your shoulders and making you lose your balance. All the sounds and people yelling seemed to quiet down, like the time had stopped.

Closing your eyes and trying to stop hyperventilating you prepared for the fall waiting for the hard ground. However you felt someone taking you in their arms.

"I got you", someone said with a comforting voice. Carefully you opened your eyes meeting warm looking brown eyes that had a hint of concern in them. However the thing that struck you was the fact that his eyes were oddly familiar. The man carefully helped you to your feet.

"Please, can you help me away from-", you quietly asked, but stopped when a person almost knocked you over again.

"Yes, let's get you away from here", he stated determined to get you away from the crowd that seemed to cause you your distress.

ー

Finally you found a quiet sideway and you leaned against a wall breathing still a bit unevenly.

"Are you okay? Can I help?", the man asked awkwardly, you were reminded of the Doctor. Your Doctor always wanted to help everyone, often forgetting himself in the process.

Doctor!

"I need to find him", you muttered closing your eyes trying to steady everything, your body and mind. The world was spinning and you could see black dots.

Why did you agree to this trip? The Doctor was your safe place and only he could get you through these situations.

"Find who?", the man asked and finally you took a good look at the man.

He was wearing Converses. Why? He had a light brown faux-suede duster coat on and he had a tie. Your Doctor always wore bowties. How would he look with a tie?

The man was odd, but at the same time you felt something familiar.

"Thank you so much, my saviour, what is your name?", you tried to joke, but you felt awful.

The man perked up and apparently tried to make himself look important because he raised his chin and pushed his chest out a bit.

"I am the Doctor", he announced flashing a charming smile.

"No, you're not", you said furrowing your brows.

A smile on the man's face faltered and turned into confusion.

"What?", he asked, that was not a reaction he was expecting.

"You are not the Doctor", you repeated nervously and tried to get away from the man.

"You are from the future? Do you travel with me?", the man asked with curiosity, but kept a distance between you two. His eyes were honest, just like your Doctors.

They also held the same wise look in them. Could he really be? He once mentioned something about regeneration.

Carefully you walked closer to him. The Doctor watched curiously what you were going to do.

You lifted your hands up close to his face. You waited for permission. The confused man didn't say anything so you gingerly touched his face. Your face breaking into a toothpaste commercial smile made the man's hearts skip a beat. He could see how much love your eyes hold for the future him, for him.

"So you have always been handsome, but not ginger", you whispered your voice a bit shaky from the unexplainable emotion that was in your throat.

A small chuckle escaped his lips. "And who you might be?".

"I am not sure if I am allowed to tell you that", you answered a bit cheekily making the man grin.

You carefully took your hands away from his face suddenly craving to find your Doctor.

"Y/N!"

You both turned to see where the shouting was coming from.

"Doctor!", you yelled back tears streaming down your face, however they were happy tears.

Finally down the alley ran a tall lanky man who was nothing like the skinny spiky haired man next to you.

His brown wild hair was messier than usual, probably from him running his hand through his hair in stress. His green eyes were frantically searching for anything that would indicate you would be hurt.

"You are okay, you are okay", he rambled pulling you to his arms. He buried his face to your neck inhaling your scent.

"Blimey, I was so worried. I will never let go of your hand again", he muttered taking your face in his hands.

"I am okay, Doctor. Nothing bad has happened", you reassured him bringing your hands on top of his that were holding your face carefully while his eyes scanned you throughout.

"I love you so much Y/N, I cannot lose you", he confessed voice thicker than usual.

Before you could even answer to him, his lips captured yours. Regardless of the storming emotions the kiss was gentle and loving.

It made you weak in the knees. Oh how many nights did you imagine what this moment would be like, how this would feel. You needed to admit that it felt better than you could have ever imagined.

After a moment you two pulled away catching your breaths.

"I love you too Doctor, with all my heart", you whispered making the Doctor smiling brighter than the sun.

"What are you doing here?", the Doctor asked after a moment of silence.

"Oh you-", you looked where the past version of him used to stand. However the skinny man had disappeared into thin air.

"I just needed to get away from the crowd", you explained, it technically was the truth.

He accepted your answer and took your hand smiling giddily.

"Let's get back to the TARDIS"

"That sounds great", you responded leaning against his side resting your head against his shoulder.

Near the TARDIS you felt eyes on you. Turning around you were met with brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter than the stars you had seen.

You blew him a kiss and winked before disappearing into the TARDIS.

The Doctor watched as the TARDIS disappeared. Oh how he wanted to find you. He didn't know you, but he could already feel how you were a missing piece from his soul.

He really loved you already.

ー

"Why on earth did you wear sandshoes?"

"Oi!"

ー

#doctor who #doctor who image #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor

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alicelwx · 3 months

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Pls get in my pocket

#the silly #eleventh doctor #doctor who #matt smith #eleventh doctor x reader #silly little guy #put him in my pocket #woahhhh #me if u even care

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shuichiakainx · 5 months

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Matt is too adorable in this photo 🥺🧡

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nghtwngs · 1 year

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silly human traditions

description: you’ve never had a new year’s kiss before. neither has the doctor. you decide to change that tonight.

pairing: tenth doctor x reader (you can probably read it as eleven too!)

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 1.2k

warnings: alcohol consumption (by the doctor), ten might be ooc bc im literally rewatching eleven’s episodes (im on the second christmas special rn!) and i think ive lost his voice but i hope that’s not the case

a/n: happy new year!! i wrote this up like real fast bc i was thinking about kissing ten and well… yeah

You walk into the TARDIS’s control room with a huge grin plastered on your face. “Doctor, we have to celebrate our first New Year!”

The Doctor looks up from the control console and turns his head to face you. “New Year?” His eyebrows are furrowed, lips curled down into a frown. “There’s no concept of time in the time vortex—how would we celebrate New Year’s?”

“Well, my phone’s calendar doesn’t change.” You pull out your device, opening the calendar app and holding it up for him to see. “It’s currently December 31st. And also we celebrated the holidays this past week.”

He pulls out his glasses out of his suit and puts them on. He squints at your screen anyway. “Well, I guess so. How’d you figure we do that?” He jumps up, running over to you. “What about a planet where everything is made of water? Or we could watch a galaxy of stars fizzle out into nothing but dust!”

“Well, Doctor, I was thinking we could just, I don’t know… spend it on Earth? Watch the ball drop in Time Square or something? Hm, actually maybe not that.”

“You little humans and all your traditions.”

“You love it.”

He mirrors your cheeky grin. “Alright, then! I think I have just the place.” He rushes over to the console, doing his thing. The TARDIS makes her signature wheezing noise, reminding you to hold on tight. “New York! Present year… well, for you anyway. Two hours ‘til midnight. Dress well. We have a party to crash!”

You make a sound of excitement, giving the Doctor a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Amazing.” You run off to the TARDIS’s vast wardrobe to find an appropriate outfit.

After finishing getting ready, you pop back into the control room to find the Doctor fiddling with his tie. He’s dressed in a black suit. A classic. You think it suits him well. (Pun not intended.)

“No bow tie this time?” you ask, walking over to him.

He just shakes his head. “Nah.”

“You clean up nicely,” you say, tightening his tie for him.

He smiles so softly at you that it makes your heart ache with need. “You do too.”

You clear your throat when the intensity of his gaze hits you. “Well, we better get to the party. Don’t wanna miss anything else.” You link your arms, dragging him out of the TARDIS.

Turns out, the party he took you to crash is filled with a bunch of celebrities. No one either of you care for, but celebrities nonetheless. It makes you feel important to be around all these people. Like you’re important enough to be around the Doctor, who you’d say is the most famous of them all. It makes you feel special. Being here. With him, but maybe not with him.

He doesn’t even bother to correct anyone when they mistake you for being an item. You often wonder if there is any deeper meaning behind that. It makes your heart stumble off beat. But that’s silly. A ridiculous, quite pathetic notion.

Silly human things, you suppose.

But it’s okay. He makes you feel special. Anyone the Doctor chooses to be his companion is special.

The very best of humanity, he’d say.

The Doctor has a sip of some random alcoholic drink you were both offered (you declined) and sticks his tongue out in disgust. He immediately places the glass back onto the tray. “That was dreadful. Absolutely dreadful.”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling until he grabs your water and chugs the entire thing. You grumble, “I was about to drink that.” But your words come out much too soft, too fondly for him to believe you’re really upset over it.

He leads you out onto the balcony with his hand on your back. You forget all about your drink.

“Oh my, God!” You double over, holding onto the Doctor’s arm. “They were sentient? How can grass be sentient?” You both continue to wheeze like it’s the funniest thing the two of you ever heard.

“Yeah, they were quite rude honestly. Telepathic. Said my hair looks ridiculous,” he muses. His voice suddenly goes quiet. He leans into you, staring into your eyes like it’d make you any more honest. “Does my hair look ridiculous?”

You run your fingers through his locks, making sure not to mess them up. “Your hair looks great. I always like it.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

You nod in agreement.

Cheers erupt from inside, and you’re worried you missed the countdown. But there’s still another five minutes left.

“Do you have any resolutions for the New Year, Doctor?”

“Resolutions? Why would I need resolutions? Is that some human tradition? Why do you have so many traditions?”

“People just want to have goals, I guess? I never really stuck with mine. And well, it’s really just that and uh… the New Year’s kiss.”

“New Year’s kiss?” He frowns.

“Yeah, they say if you kiss someone at midnight on New Year’s, it’ll strengthen the bond between you? I don’t know. It’s silly. I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss before, so I couldn’t tell you if it’s true or not.”

“Huh.” There’s his thinking face. Nothing good ever comes from his thinking face. Not unless you’re in a life or death situation, and you don’t think you are right now. At least you really hope not. “Do you… Would you like to test that theory out?”

You almost choke. “What?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like we have to or anything.”

“I didn’t peg you as the superstitious type.”

“I’m not. But no harm in trying it out, right?”

No, there’s a lot of harm in trying it out, you want to say. You think your heart might explode out of your chest. That would be a horrible way to start out the new year. He’d have to find another companion whose heart stays in their chest cavity and away from both of his.

“Yeah, no harm at all.”

Why can’t your mouth just stay shut sometimes?

You hear the countdown start.

Ten.

He holds your chin between his index finger and thumb.

Nine.

His warm eyes look into yours.

Eight.

You’ve never been touched with such gentleness before.

Seven.

His scent is so clean and warm and so him.

Six.

The proximity is completely dizzying.

Five.

You think you can feel your knees buckle.

Four.

How can he look at you as if you’re the only interesting thing in the universe?

Three.

When he’s seen it all.

Two.

A quick glance at your lips.

One.

The Doctor presses his lips against yours. It’s wonderful. He tastes like berries. When in the world did he have berries? Your arms slink around him, pulling him as close as possible. He doesn’t seem to mind. He cups your face with his hands. What a brain melting kiss. The strings of his hearts are knotting with yours. You want to be consumed by this feeling.

It doesn’t register that you have to breathe for a minute, but you think you’d kiss him forever if you could. You have all the time in the world anyway. You wonder how long can Time Lords go without air. Probably much longer than humans, yeah? You, with much reluctance, pull away.

He pecks your lips again. He grins cheekily at you. “A while.”

You scoff. You hate it when he does that. And when he smiles at you like that. Your neck grows hot even though it’s cool outside. “It’s midnight.” You’re still breathless.

“It is.”

“You’re my first New Year’s kiss.”

“You’re mine.”

Maybe it’s true; the bond between you does feel stronger this year. You kiss him again and then some more.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor imagine #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor imagine #doctor who x reader

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 days

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Star-Crossed (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader (fluff/angst)

Summary: You and the Doctor find out that neither of you are on the same page when it comes to defining your relationship.

EVERYTHING: @winchxters

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

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Star-crossed lovers. That's what people called the two of you. After you'd both averted some new catastrophe on a random moon or planet and the people you'd befriended on this particular adventure dragged you away to ask what it was like- travelling with the Doctor.

"It must be nice, travelling the stars with such a handsome partner."

"You're both so lucky to have each other."

"Tell us, is he a good kisser?"

On and on it went. Planet after planet, moon after moon. And you wish you knew if he was a good kisser or not. You wish you knew what it was like to cuddle under a ship window and listen to him tell you stories. You wish you knew what it was like to sleep next to each other and have him cuddle you back to sleep (if he slept at all, of course). All of these things and more, but from what you could tell- he just wasn't interested.

"Come on, now," the Doctor broke you from your sulking. You took a deep breath and looked over at him. "What's that face for? It's a new day, new adventure, new hijinks. We've got it made, you and me."

You forced a smile onto your lips, feeling incredibly overwhelmed by a lot of things right now.

"What face, Doctor? There's no face. Promise."

The Doctor clicked his tongue, brows furrowing disapprovingly at your very obvious lie. Abandoning his post by the console, the Doctor came to sit by you, throwing his arm over your shoulders comfortingly.

"All right," he acquiesced as you turned your head to face away from him. You craved this kind of physical affection from him, but it also hurt. A lot. "Pretend for a second that I believe you, what could I do to make your great day even better, hmm?"

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and suddenly the Doctor's thumb and forefinger were under your chin and turning your head towards him.

"What's wrong, Petal? I can't stand to see you hurt like this."

"I just- look, it's silly, but I get tired of hearing people mistake us for a couple all the time," you explained, eyes downcast. Then, the Doctor's arm was no longer around you and the cool of the TARDIS interior made you shiver.

Forcing yourself to make eye contact with him, you were very surprised and frightened to see hurt on his features. This confused you, and you reached for one of his hands which was currently picking at his nails anxiously.

"You don't want to be a couple anymore then?" He asked, struggling to not look away from you.

"Well, I-" you started and then abruptly stopped. "Anymore? What do you mean 'anymore'?"

Now the Doctor looked just as confused as you did. You could see the gears trying to turn in his brain but struggling.

"I've spent a great deal of my time around humans," the Doctor said, processing. "Do you mean to tell me... I've been considering us a couple going on four or five months and you didn't know?"

You opened your mouth. Closed it again. You were seeing error.exe messages in your mind's eye. What was happening right now?

"But- I- we've never even kissed?" You protested, windows computer noises playing over your brain as you tried to figure out how this miscommunication could have happened.

"I thought you wanted to take things slow," the Doctor answered.

You couldn't help it. You burst into laughter. Raucous, loud, boisterous laughter that filled the room and out into the hallways. The Doctor followed, little giggles that turned into full-bellied laughter in no time.

You couldn't believe the ridiculousness of the situation. How could he have thought that? How could you have thought he wasn't interested? Gods, there was a lot of miscommunication there that needed to be seriously looked at as some sort of Ripley's believe it or not record.

When you were able to stop your giggling long enough to take a breather, the Doctor took your hand.

"Given we didn't do this the right way the first time," he said, looking equally as mystified by the situation. "I feel it's my duty to ask... would you like to go out with me? Complete restart. From the beginning."

"Yes," you grinned, wiping the tears of laughter from your cheek with your shoulder. "I would love to go on a date with you."

"Excellent!" He exclaimed, jumping up and heading to the console. "Now, you go put something on. Something... fit for a nice dinner and a movie, and I'll put the coordinates in. Go on, off you pop."

You hopped up, feeling giddy with excitement. A fresh start, this was just what you needed. Maybe you were star-crossed lovers after all.

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #x reader #doctor who imagine #eleventh doctor imagine #doctor who drabble #matt smith #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor x y/n #matt smith doctor #ms doctor #geronimo

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thestarlithideout · 28 days

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Perfectly Imperfect

Requested: No Requests are: Open!

Summary: You realize the Doctor like you at the worst possible time

Warnings: Fluff, danger, sleep deprivation, mutual pining

A/n: Moved from my wattpad of the same user

PRESENT DAY, TARDIS, FLOATING AROUND SPACE

"Y/n!"

You roll over, turning away from the noise you had yet to register as The Doctor calling your name. You were having a wonderful dream, one you couldn't quite recall now. You try to fall back into the euphoric dream atmosphere your subconscious had created, one where the only detail you seemed familiar was The Doctor's lips on yours, but that's a nightly occurrence. It's an unusual situation — a human, in love with a Time Lord who was likely to send you away at any time. And to have dreams where you kiss him! It's quite embarrassing, and you've sworn to never say a word to anyone.

"Y/n!"

You blink a few times, eyes adjusting to the dark of your bedroom. Now you can make out the familiar shapes of the simple room. You realize it was The Doctor yelling for you from across TARDIS, now bounding up the stairs, you hear. He knocks loudly on your bedroom door, rattling it just slightly.

"You can come in," you yell just loud enough for him to hear. You sit up, leaning back on your hands. He bursts' into your room, door hitting the wall behind it, he looked crazy — hair mussed up, clothes crooked, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Wait," you tell him, holding up a hand. "Don't tell me, Earth needs saving, doesn't it?" He nods frantically, throwing your blankets off of you, grabbing your hand in both of his and ushering you out of bed.

"Daleks, probably." Is all he says as he drags you to your bathroom. "Go on, get ready." You smile as he opens the door for you, placing a hand on your lower back to push you into the bathroom.

You flip on the light, turning to the sink. You brace your hands on the counter, letting out a huff of a laugh when you look at your flushed cheeks in the mirror, shaking your head. Incredible, he is incredible.

When you return from the bathroom a few minutes later, with a washed face and clean teeth, The Doctor is waiting for you, laying sprawled out on your bed. The things I could do with him laying there like that. Hmm.

You blink hard, ridding yourself of those thoughts. God, that was utterly appalling, and he's The Doctor, he's your best friend. Stop it. You take a deep breath, clearing your throat. "Is there something you need?" You ask with a chuckle, sitting at the edge of your bed next to his stomach, and you have the urge to run your fingers through his hair. He's just so pretty, I can't help it.

"Yes," he says, sounding oddly excited. "I need you to hurry, breakfast is nearly done and you need to eat before we go to Earth." He sits up, leaning back on his hands. You lick your lips, smiling.

"What'd you make?"

"Well, for my little American friend, otherwise known as Y/n, I made your pancakes. And for the Ponds I made regular pancakes." He smiled at you, proud he remembered how you liked yours. He attempted once to make you pancakes, but they were more like crepes than the fluffy pancakes you're used to. You ate them, they were good, but when he asked what you thought you revealed that you were used to more cake like pancakes.

"Aw, that's sweet you remembered." You gave him a quick hug. You shouldn't have, because, God, you didn't want to let go. He's so warm, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders and it's like he's saying he's going to protect you from any dangers, anywhere.

He smiled at you as you pulled back, "Of course, I want you to be happy here. I want you to stay." He makes you want to melt. Just become a puddle at his feet, he's such a sweetheart.

You're the newest addition to The Doctor's little family, joining his adventures just six months ago. He still feels like he needs to make you happy, so he keeps doing these nice things for you, that's the only reason he keeps doing these things for you — well, pretty sure.

"I'm not going anywhere, Eleven."

∆∆∆

SIX MONTHS AGO, TARDIS

"So, this is your eleventh body?" You ask, leaning against the kitchen counter, holding your coffee between your hands.

"Pretty much, my eleventh regeneration." He nods, he's standing opposite of you, barely a foot from you.

"That's cool. Can I call you Eleven? It's just kind of weird to call you Doctor." You realize as soon as the words come out of your mouth that that sounded extremely rude. "Oh jeez, I didn't mean- I just meant, I'm sorry. Your name is great, it'll just take some getting used to. I'm sorry." You scramble to get out, and he watches with an amused expression.

"It's okay, I promise you, it isn't the first time."

"Oh no, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. Dammit." You set your coffee down, dropping your face into your hands. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. You can call me Eleven, that sounds nice." You look up. Maybe it's just your imagination, but it looks like his cheeks are tinted red. You give him a small, apologetic smile.

"Wait," you start to ask, smirk barely restrained on your face, "How old does that make you?"

"Older than I care to remember." He said, trying to tease back. But you could hear the sadness in his voice, the weight of the loss of everyone he's had to let go of. Your smirk immediately dropped, and you walked up to him sliding your arms under his to give him a great big hug, squeezing him tightly as you rest your cheek against his chest.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, feeling him finally hug you back, resting his head on top of yours as you rub your thumb over his little tweed jacket.

∆∆∆

"But you are going, unless you plan on me going down for breakfast in this." You gesture to yourself, too big t-shirt and short shorts on, you're so lucky that your shirt isn't see through — you don't have a bra on. He looks at your outfit quickly, perhaps lingering on your legs for a second too long, but that was just your imagination, surely. But what isn't your imagination is the way he licks his lips, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth when he looks back up at your face.

"No, I suppose not." He nodded, letting out a deep breath. You get off the bed, and he follows, smiling at you as he shuts the door.

You get dressed quickly, throwing on jeans and a bra underneath your shirt. It's fine, you think before grabbing a jacket.

You take the stairs as quick as possible, smelling the sweet pancakes in the air before you ever reached the kitchen of the TARDIS. You make an excited face as you bound into the rather large kitchen, "Smells so good." You raise your eyebrows at Amy when you catch her eye, gesturing at The Doctor who was currently wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron. She just let out a short laugh, shrugging. You smile as you slowly walk over to him, leaning on your elbow on the counter next to him.

"Interesting wardrobe change, Eleven." You tug at the apron when he turns to face you, he was working on one of your pancakes, waiting for it to finish cooking.

He smiles, "Yes, well. . . Don't really have an explanation for that, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders, raising his eyebrows as he does which makes you scrunch your nose, light laugh falling from your lips. He goes back to focusing on your pancake, pressing the middle of it before transferring it to a plate with another pancake on it.

"I made you two, is that okay?"

"Perfect," you say with a smile. He nods, happy that you like the pancakes.

"Well," he says with a clap, rubbing his hands together before taking off the apron, "We best get going. We've got to save past Earth from what seems to be a less developed breed of Daleks. Eat, Y/n, we have some time, it might take us a quick minute to get to 1207 AD Earth." He smiled.

"Dear God, I'm not wearing a ridiculous dress." He snickered at your blatant hatred for the style.

"Well, it would be quite hard to fight in." He squeezed your shoulder before walking out to the main controls.

You grab your pancakes, spreading a bit of peanut butter and drizzling syrup over them before sitting down at the table with Amy and Rory. "Alright," you say matter-of-factly, "When does he stop feeling like he needs to make me feel welcome? I love it, he's such a sweetheart, but I don't want to be surprised when he gets comfortable with me and stops doing nice things. When did he stop doing it with you two?"

They shared a look, before Amy answered you. "Y/n, darling, what are you going on about? He never did anything like this for us. Just this morning he was ranting on about he was going to make you your pancakes, and me and Rory were like 'Yum, can't wait.' And The Doctor just looked at us before realizing that he should probably make us some as well. 'You were wanting some too?' He said." She finished with a laugh, but noticed your confused expression as you chewed.

"Y/n, you're not stupid," Rory groaned. "He only lets you call him Eleven-" Rory starts, and Amy intersects.

"The one time we tried, he got very defensive, 'Only Y/n calls me that, what are you doing?'" She puts on a voice for him, imitating his accent.

"Yeah, he never made food before you got here," Rory continues, "He would be up shouting at all hours of the night. Hell, he never comes to our bedrooms to wake us up, never knocks, never brings us nothing, he fuckin' carried you to TARDIS once." Rory was talking about last week, you hadn't slept at all for nearly three days, almost collapsing.

∆∆∆

DISTANT FUTURE, ONE WEEK AGO, PLANET OF SIRIATH

You fought to keep your eyes open as you stumbled, attempting to run, back to the TARDIS. But every step you took hurt you, every inch you ran made you want to collapse and let the Cybermen take you. You ran through the fields, corn stalks towered high above you, hitting you as you run. You can hear the Cybermen behind you, metal clanging as they trample the corn, searching for you and your friends. The Doctor runs beside you, Amy and Rory already on TARDIS.

You hit your foot against a fallen corn stock, your toe slams against your shoe, and you fall, arms shooting out in front of you, bracing for the stings of leaves smacking you. But you just fall into something solid, yet soft. You collapse into it, realizing it's The Doctor, and pass out nearly immediately. You're barely half awake as he picks you up and runs the last hundred feet to the TARDIS, where Amy and Rory hang half out, yelling for him to run faster.

"'Leven," you mumble, hiding your face in his chest, but trying to push him away at the same time, "'Leven put me down so I can run. Have to get away from the Cybermen, 'Leven." He shushed you and absolutely floors it the rest of the way.

As soon as he enters the TARDIS, he takes you to your room, demanding Amy and Rory hit a thingamajig, and pull a spinny whatchamacallit and get them the hell outa dodge. You couldn't decipher the words, you just heard it running all together.

"What's happened? Why- Are you okay?" He sets you down on your bed, kneeling beside you.

"Sleepy, Eleven, so fucking sleepy." You curl up, hands under your head, on your side.

"When's the last time you slept?" You couldn't find the energy to shrug, so you were quiet.

It wasn't until the next morning Amy and Rory told you he stayed in your room, in a chair by the door the entire 27 hours you slept. When he found out you hadn't slept in three days prior to that because of him and the Cybermen, he didn't let you get up for anything for two days, bringing your food and coffee to you to make up for it.

∆∆∆

"He didn't. . . Well then why. . ?" You tried to work out in your head why in the he'll he would do that for you, but the only answer that kept banging around in your head was flashing red and screaming out with a blaring alarm, "HE LIKES YOU!" But he doesn't, he's a damn time lord, Christ Sake. It'll never happen.

Amy rolls her eyes with a playful smile, "By the look on your face, I think you're pretty damn close to figuring it out." She jokes, getting up to leave.

Rory follows, patting your shoulder. "'Don't really have an explanation for that,' please, Y/n. Just kiss him already, I had to help him pick the damn thing out. 'Y'think Y/n will like it?'" You scoff, looking down at your mostly empty plate, reluctantly smiling at the possibility. You're sure at least Rory knows about your little crush, and Amy definitely knows.

---

1207 AD, SCOTLAND, EARTH

You reach Earth, year 1207, in a mere seven minutes. Thinking back on it, any past (or present, including Amy and Rory) companions you've had the pleasure of meeting have never mentioned how damn long it takes to travel. Once, you had to jump from a small, sandy planet from a galaxy far, far away, with two suns, billions of years in the future, to a huge ice planet in a galaxy halfway across the universe, in the present day. It damn near took twenty minutes of crashing and tumbling around the TARDIS console to get there.

You stumble out of the TARDIS and onto the green fields of a small village in Scotland, calming from absolutely cackling at something Amy said. But you go immediately quiet and stand straight up when you realize somewhere that should have been filled with music and celebration for their leaders, was dead silent. Not an animal sounded, no one person trying to sneak up on you. Only the near silent sound of your friends filing out behind you, realizing the exact same thing.

"Doctor," you whisper, fear present in your voice, "Why is it so quiet?" He hadn't stopped walking until he was just slightly in front of you, arm overlapping yours. His fingertips would brush yours if he tries to reach behind him, and he does. But he grabs yours, squeezing them. Amy and Rory are on the other side of you, and you glance over at them to see if they noticed, yep. Amy is nudging Rory, pointing at you and The Doctor, and when she catches your eyes she raises her eyebrow at you, silently saying I told you, didn't I?

"Unevolved, with no armor — Daleks." He says, seemingly reading his Sonic Screwdriver. He takes a deep breath, "We need to locate them. Their goal will be to find the source of power and take over, AKA find the leaders and use them as vessels." He quickly explains, turning around to face your group, but not letting go of your fingers, instead sliding his hand up to cup your wrist. "After that they'll probably try to take over. . ."

---

You look around in panic, trying to calm down. You're hiding in a dead woman's hut, trying desperately not to breath through your nose, but at the same time hoping the smell masks you. You run your hands up and down your thighs, trying not to cry from the pure panic of being separated from your friends while killer aliens are on the loose and could literally take over a body and pretend they would help before killing you for "getting in the way."

That's exactly what they did to the villagers — took over their leaders minds and slaughtered everyone who tried to revolt. You choke back a sob as you find the bedrooms, that's right, bedrooms. Plural. There's a child's bedroom, evident by the small wood carvings — bears, ducks, and a little heart. You don't want to look in the room, but something tells you that you must, a voice inside your head, something urging you on. You admire the carvings that litter the room, you turn around, trying to find more about the people who lived he- you let out a scream, stumbling back. You knock your head against a shelf, eyes stinging.

There lay a small girl's decomposing, delicate body. She couldn't have been more than six. You stifle your sobs by holding your hand over your mouth, dropping to your knees. "Oh, God." You quietly sob, wiping your eyes.

CRASH!

The sound of splintered wood fills the hut, and you panic. Your stomach fills with dread — you're trapped. "Eleven, TARDIS, please. Someone — Amy, Rory. Help," You whimper, face falling into your hands.

You hear a shout, and doors knock down, falling with a quiet thump.

More shouts, this time coming from outside the hut. You hear the familiar warbling of the Doctor's screwdriver. You gather yourself, bottom lip still slightly shaking as you rake your hands through your hair. The make-shift door to the child's room falls, and in comes a woman (a child, really) with a large, black squid-looking thing on her back. You back away, pressing your back against the wall. You breath deeply, holding your hands up.

"Please, listen to reason. You don't want to kill me."

"Give me a reason, human." It spat, speaking through the woman. You know she's long gone, her eyes are dead and dull. No life whatsoever.

You sputter, trying to come up with a reason when you see the Doctor silently creep behind the Dalek.

"Because she's my human, and I think your kind may remember what happened the last time you messed with a companion of mine. And they weren't as important as she, so I do suggest you leave her be."

Your eyes go wide, watching as he rants to the Dalek. It shakes the head of the woman, huffing a garbled laugh.

"Fine, I won't kill your precious human." It speaks, turning around to face the Doctor. "I'll kill you, once and for all!" It lunges at the Doctor, and you let out a scared cry. They struggle, falling to the floor. You search for something to help, and your eyes fall on the wood carving next to the bed. You hadn't noticed it before — a wooden knife, sharp despite being wood. You grab it by the hilt, waiting for an opportunity to help the Doctor. They wrestle around, Eleven tries not to hurt the woman, but she was dead before they started fighting. The Dalek grabs hold of the Doctor's hair, ripping him backwards, banging his head against the floor. It leans in and talks in a low voice. "And then after I kill you, I'll kill her too." It laughs, and the Dalek on the woman's back is face up.

You lunge towards it, stabbing at the Dalek. It spurts black, but it didn't make much of an impact. It just stands up, forcing the woman's face into a scowl. "Stupid human. Your Doctor tried to protect you, and you do this. Now you both shall die." The woman's face comforts into an evil grin, advancing. It rips the wooden knife from your hand, forcing you against the wall once more.

The Doctor scrambles up, reacting late, and fumbling with something in his jacket. He pulls something small and round out, still trying to get it to start. You're not sure what it is, but all you can focus on right now is the Dalek, who's getting closer and closer to you. The woman's nose touches your cheek, and you feel no breath hitting your cheek, making you want to sob once again. The woman is a walking zombie, dead, but body being used. The Dalek rakes her fingers down your face, and you feel the partially blunt carving pressing into your right side.

The Doctor runs at the Dalek, screaming something unintelligible to you. You double over, throbbing pain focused in your stomach, something ripping out. Then everything goes fuzzy. Your vision is impaired, only seeing a blur of the Doctor's tweed jacket coming off, and him leaning over you, mumbling something. You blink, trying to keep your eyes open. He grabs your hand, pressing hard on your stomach, and you start coughing, something warm and wet hitting your lips. It's metallic tasting. You keep your hand on your stomach despite the throbbing. You can't hear anything but his voice. It's too loud, even though you can't quite make out what he's saying. Two more people, a blur of red hair and a blur of brown hair. Amy and Rory.

Your hair, wet from sweat, is brushed from your face. You groan, and it burns your throat. This is taking hours, you've been laying here in pain for what feels like forever. You wince as someone's hands slide under you, picking you up quickly. It's Eleven.

"I'm getting blood on your jacket." You whimper, feeling too weak to do anything else. He's running, and you see the blurs of green from trees, and red from fire, and black from smoke all swirling together.

"It's alright, Darling. It's okay." It sounds like he's speaking underwater, voice muffled and barely decipherable.

He's still running, glancing down at you. You hear a boom as you enter a temperature regulated room — TARDIS, you're grateful for her.

---

You wake up in a daze with a pounding headache. The dim light coming from the lamp in the corner of the room — not yours — hurts your eyes. You sit up, hissing in pain when a sharp feeling runs up and down the right side of your body. Tears prick your eyes and you blink them back, taking shallow breaths. Then you realize that you aren't in the same clothes you were in when you arrived in Scotland, in 1207 AD. That they aren't even yours. It's a plain, a too big t-shirt that fell to your mid thighs. You squint your eyes to look at the bedside table — a carved heart. You inhale sharply, it all comes rushing back to you.

The Daleks. Eleven saving you. Stabbing the Dalek. Getting stabbed. Eleven saving you again. Waking up here.

My human.

Because she's my human.

You squeeze your eyes shut, calling out to TARDIS. "TARDIS, honey, where's Eleven?" Your voice is raspy.

She whirs in response, you're sure the Doctor understood it and is coming running. You can't help but wonder whose room this is. You've never seen it, and it doesn't look very lived in, but it sure is cozy. It's comforting, familiar for some reason.

The door bursts' open, hitting the wall. You wince, turning away from the light that shines through it. "Ow," you groan, drawing out the word.

"Y/n," the Doctor shuts the door quietly. He takes a deep breath before turning back around. He's been crying, you think, his eyes are puffy, and red. It's a reasonable assumption.

"Eleven," you groan as you stand up. You're wearing shorts now and you hope that it was Amy that got you dressed, it would kill you if it had been Rory or the Doctor.

"Eleven what's wrong?" You wrap your arms around his middle, laying your head against his chest. He rests his head against yours, hand coming up to cup the back of your head, the other hovering over your back.

"You- you almost died. Y/n, you can't do that." He sounds angry, but he's so calm and it's kind of freaking you out.

"But I'm alive. I didn't die, and I was helping you. So it doesn't matter." You shake your head slightly, shrugging, but grimace when it pulls at your side.

"Are you hurting? Lie down, God, what's wrong with you humans? Always risking your life. Bunch of martyrs, you lot." He mumbles to himself after telling you to lie down. He leads you to the bed, pulling back the blankets for you. You comply, but scoot over. You pat the bed next to you, and look at him with pleading eyes. He huffs, but smiles nonetheless as he sits next to you, back against the headboard.

"Whose bedroom is this?" You wonder aloud, scooting over to lay your head on his shoulder.

"Mine." Your eyes go wide, and you hope he can't feel your face heat up.

"Oh."

"You just," he stumbles over his words, looking at you. "You shouldn't have done that. Why would you do that? You could have gotten yourself killed! Then what would I have done?? I would have lost the only woman I- I would have lost my best friend. You're my best friend. Why would you endanger yourself like that? Y/n, you've been in a comatose state for nearly two weeks." He rants, angry again. He moves away from you to face you now. His eyes well up with tears, and he can't help but run his fingers lightly over your cheek, trailing down to the collar of your shirt. "You look beautiful in my shirt." Your face burns as his fingers brush over your collarbone.

"I'm absolutely furious at you, still." He laughs, but it turns into a choked sob. He's just relieved that you're okay. "God," he closes his eyes, and lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck. "Y/n, why would you do that?"

Because I love you. Because I couldn't let a Dalek, of all things, kill you. Because I love you. Because I couldn't live with myself if I ran. Because I love you.

"You're my best friend." The Doctor huffed a hurt laugh, blinking against your neck.

"You forget I have the ability to look in your mind — to know what it is you're thinking." He says sadly, pulling you to him. You're knees are interlocking, one between his legs and the other on the outside.

Fuck off. Don't fucking mock me.

He shook his head, "You were reckless." He changes the subject with a sad look to the side. His hands drop from your face, and he stands up, clearing his throat. "You- You won't do that again. Next time we go anywhere like that you- you will- Uhm, you'll stay with TARDIS." He nodded, fixing his bow tie, shoving his hands in his pockets. He leaves the room, leaving you a distraught, hurting mess.

You run your hand over your face, sobbing silently. "God," you sigh, "What the hell just happened?" You wipe the tears from your cheeks, taking a deep breath.

Just, please, if you hear me. Please listen. Come back, please come back. Please, please, please. Jesus, I need you to come back, Eleven. Please, Doctor, come back.

I love you. I love you so much, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being stubborn, I'm sorry for risking my life. Please come back, Eleven. Would you please come back?

You silently beg for him to come back, to come back so you can make things right. You talk to him, in your head, until your head hurts. Until you've cried so much —begging him to come back, to talk to you, to kiss you — that your eyes hurt, until they've got bags under them that will last for days, until the corners of your eyes are rubbed raw from wiping them. Your heart aches for him, all you want to do is apologize, apologize for being reckless, for being so harsh on him, apologize for not telling him earlier.

Please, Doctor. Come back to me.

You roll over, facing the table. The throbbing pain on your right side had now slowed to a dull ache, the pain in your heart too much of a distraction. Your eyes fall to focus on the carved, wooden heart on the bedside table. You reach out and grab it, it doesn't look like the one from the hut. It's smoother, sanded down. You run your fingers over it, and find notches in the back. You turn it over in your hands, eyes widening when you read what it says. It's in his scraggly, loopy, endearingly him handwriting.

For my best friend, Y/n. Don't ever endanger yourself like that again. It would simply be too much for me to bear if I were to lose you.

♡ Eleven

Your heart stops. It weighs down on your chest like a rock, it's become a lead weight in your chest. Eleven what just happened? What does the heart mean? Why would you sign it like that?

You clutch the heart in your hands, laying down to finally sleep. You snuggle into his blankets, pressing you nose into his pillows. You know why it was familiar. It's him. It smells like him. Doctor, I love you so much.

---

You wake up to the door creaking open. Odd. Normally the Doctor comes bounding into your room, yelling for you. Or he carries you out to the consol, still half asleep, dropping you on one of the empty spots until you insist on brushing your teeth and changing out of shorts.

You squint, rolling over to see Any standing in the doorway, but the Doctor is already here — sleeping, curled up, in the arm chair across from the bed. You still have the heart in your hand, half of the words imprinted on your palm, along with the heart, and his name next to it. You look up at Amy, and she ushers you of the room. You walk as quick ad possible put of the room, and Amy shuts the door behind you.

"What the hell happened between the two of you? He's been shut up in his library since he left, and TARDIS wouldn't let us in." She questions, a concerned look in her eyes.

"I just-" you sigh, "It's a long story." You drop your head, looking at your bare toes, as if they're the most interesting things in the world — half painted, you remember when you showed the Doctor, and he just about lost it.

∆∆∆

TWO WEEKS AGO, TARDIS

You half-skip out into the main control, careful not to smudge the rich, dark green paint of your toes. "Doctor!" He turns around, hands still on the controls.

You stick your foot out, wiggling your toes. "Isn't it a pretty color?" You smile, you just bought the color two days ago, on a trip to Greece. You'd been wanting to go there, and the Doctor finally complied.

"Dear God! What is that on your foot?" He scrambled for his screwdriver while you stood there, an amused look on your face. It sounded a flat noise, and the Doctor hit it against his palm a few times.

"It's just nail polish, it's not an alien. I thought you were, like, thousands of years old." You say with a laugh, a slight smirk evident on your face.

"At this point, I've completely lost track." He physically relaxes, inspecting the color further. "I think it suits you wonderfully, though I do believe that's true for any color. Which, by the way, I can see twelve more of." He reminds you smugly, a posh smile on his face. You've had this conversation (about him seeing exactly twelve more colors than you) many, many times.

You just snort, rolling your eyes playfully with a smile on your face.

∆∆∆

PRESENT DAY, TARDIS

"Well we've got all the time in the world, now don't we?" She questions, eyebrows raised. A crash comes from inside the room, and you both look at the door, where a disheveled Doctor stands, hair sticking out in all directions.

"I woke up and you were gone." He has his hand on his chest, relieved. "I thought you left." His eyes are wide and slightly bloodshot, like after crying, or when you don't sleep for nearly a week, though of course that's different for him.

"Why would I leave?" You ask bluntly, not letting him hone in on what you're truly feeling — sadness and regret. Regret for not telling him earlier, for pushing him away.

"I-" He stutters wordless noise out, and Amy looks between the two of you.

"I'm going to leave you to whatever it is you're doing." She backs up before rounding a corner, after that you hear her feet pounding against the floor as she sprints off, yelling for Rory.

"I didn't know if you still wanted to be here or not." He admits, looking sheepishly at the floor.

"Again, why wouldn't I want to be here?" It's a stiff interaction, awkwardness clings to the tension between you and your Doctor.

He doesn't say anything, but you understand almost immediately. His companions have left of their own free will before, they got bored. They didn't want the excitement. They wanted a family.

"Doctor, I wouldn't leave you just because of an argument. Not even if you forbade me from leaving TARDIS," you raised your eyebrows, letting little emotion seep into your voice. You know that if you were to, then you would end up crying again. And you're already dehydrated and emotionally exhausted.

"Promise?" He avoids looking at you, instead opting for anything in your immediate vicinity.

"Of course." You should know I would never leave you, and you know why. You think sadly, for once wanting him to read your thoughts, and you look at the floor.

"Okay, right," he says, nodding. He goes to leave, but hesitates, turning back to you. He opens his mouth as if to say something, hand half reaching out to you. "I- Y/n, can I please talk to you?"

"Is that not what you're doing?" Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision, face warm and now wet with tears that keep coming.

"Y/n that's not what I meant, please?" He opens his door, hand outstretched and reaching for you.

You don't take his hand, but you do walk into his room, arms wrapped around you as you look at the ground. He walks in behind you, shutting the door. You didn't notice, you were too busy looking a the ground, but his face dropped when you rejected his hand, and it terrified him even more. But you don't notice any of that, you're focused on avoiding him for as long as possible.

"Y/n, please, look at me." He walks over to you quickly, cupping your cheek in his hand, thumb running over your jaw. He tilts your head up to look at him. "Listen-"

"Don't let me down easy, alright? Tell me you don't feel that way about me and I'll leave. Just don't act like you pity me. Send me away, please. Just don't act like you pity me. Like you don't want to hurt me, because if you do hurt me it'll be that much easier to make myself leave." You don't look at him, but his hand still cups your jaw even as you turn your head.

"What are you talking about? I love you," he says in a quiet voice, and your lips part in shock.

What?

"I love you, Y/n." His hands hold the back of your neck, using his thumbs to make you look at him. "I love you." He stares at you with this intense adoration, like you're the only thing that matters in the universe. In any universe.

"You love me?" You ask in disbelief. You know it isn't logical, but what if he's only saying that as a friendly type of love? What if he's lying, just to get you to stay? God, you love this Doctor so much, but he could be twisted sometimes. He truly just does not want to be left all alone.

"I've always loved you, with both of my hearts." You roll your eyes, fighting back the tears that well up and threaten to spill over.

"I love you too, Eleven." Your hands wind up in his adorable, drive-you-crazy tweed coat, and you pull him down to you, capturing his lips with yours. He smiles into the kiss, hands moving up to tangle in your hair. You stand on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck as his lips move hastily against yours. It isn't one like in the movies — perfect and timed and coordinated. This is one of need, of love, of desperation. It's perfectly imperfect as you pull him closer to you, breaking the kiss.

He's holding you to him, squeezing you as close as possible, hands still in your hair and eyes still closed.

Your forehead is pressed against his, breathing heavy as you hold him tight. You don't want to let go, but you're both hot and emotional.

It's perfect in the most imperfect of ways.

masterlist

#eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who #amy pond #tenth #rory williams #twelfth #eleventh hour games #eleventh house #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor fluff #eleventh doctor smut #eleventh doctor angst #with a happy ending #doctor x reader #the doctor #the doctor x reader #doctor who x reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Note

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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