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#i do love how HUGE the tardis console room is now
expelliarmus · 5 months
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konnfusion · 1 year
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HELLO IT'S ME ODESSA MUTUAL FOR THE ASK GAME gimme 6, 17, 26, 32 and 49!
ODESSA MUTUAL, HELLO AGAIN, I AM SO EXCITED TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS~
(anyone else reading this please see previous post for more Odessa lore™)
6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate? Odessa was a # gifted kid in her younger years ("a pleasure to have in class" kinda kid, a "jumping up and down in my seat with my hand in the air for you to call on me because I know the answer" kinda kid), but the sudden death of her parents derailed a lot of her life. She finished secondary school and some university, but dropped out without a degree. Her parents were computer scientists, she did okay with that, but was at her best with things like English, Theatre, and Biology (especially Botany; she loves plants and flowers). And, of course, her parents fostered a love of astronomy, and even named her after a constellation [that I made up].
17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos? YES! She mostly took photos of her garden and the like when she lived alone, but started including herself in more pictures after she began making friends with and through the Doctor. Keeping physical pictures is very important to her (phones are so easily destroyed, if not also easily replaced, on adventures in time and space), but she does has a whole box of albums that she keeps meaning to digitize and log into the ship's databases so they'll be around forever.
26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? There's a lot of before-and-after with Odessa. Pre-space-adventures, she tried to be reserved--to cause no harm and mind her business, to paraphrase one of her TSwift anthems--, but she's a really emotional and often warm person by nature so that reservation didn't last long once she left home, especially around her loved ones. (Her husband loves comparing her to stars and suns and all that wonderful celestial imagery.) She's got a huge smile that lights up her whole face, sparking up warm brown eyes, and she loves to sing and dance. She would definitely organize intergalactic karaoke parties if she could. She always seems to be humming something, and even gets the Doctor to join in on her dancing once in a while. (The dancing increases when she's traveling with Twelve, since he's always hanging out in the console room playing his guitar.) She just loves the freedom of emoting as big as she really feels, and loves not feeling ashamed of showing how she feels--especially when she's happy.
32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like? If she could live her whole life in dungarees, she would. But they're not always conducive to space adventures, so she usually opts for comfortable clothes she can run from danger in--high-waisted jeans and patterned blouses/sweaters, Docs or running shoes. (The TARDIS has a huge wardrobe collection from previous adventures, so she can pretty much wear whatever she likes.) She has been known to rock the hell out of evening-wear, but that's usually reserved for date night with her husband. She usually sleeps in an oversized t-shirt and either patterned shorts or pants. She opts for light, natural-ish makeup most of the time or none at all. Her hair is the subject of her first off-world adventure, actually! Not to give spoilers for the whole thing, but she was naturally a brunette until a run-in with a bleaching agent at a factory turned her blonde(/almost silvery). Now, whenever she wants to be brunette again, she has to raid her collection of hair dye that she's been stealing from Earth stores all throughout history. (Because why would time travelers have money, of course.) Her hair is long-ish with curtain bangs, and she always has a hair-tie on hand to help keep it out of her face. this is a pretty good visualizer for her everyday look:
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49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them? She is so sentimental, basically to a fault (aka, it can turn into pettiness when someone isn't as emotionally invested in something as she is). She has many objects she values that represent the people she's lost (books that belonged to her parents, her photo albums, pressed flowers from her garden, etc.), but she also makes an effort to hold onto things that represent the people that are still in her life, too (jewelry or clothes that remind her of her friends and the like). Truth be told, she might hoard sentimental items too much, but their ship is essentially endless, so no one has the heart to criticize her for it. The two things she takes everywhere with her, no matter what, are her TARDIS key and her wedding ring; they're always on her person. The Doctor designed the ring himself--double-banded gold with a green-blue stone to represent her home planet. There's an engraving on the inside of the band in Gallifreyan that she can't read, and that he won't translate for her. "It's something that doesn't need saying," in his words. (One of our planned stories tells the reader what it says, but we have no plans thus far for Odessa to ever have it translated for her.)
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING MORE ABOUT HER AND FOR JUST BEING AWESOME I'M :')))))) YOU'RE THE COOLEST
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heytherejulietx · 2 years
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wake up - eleventh / twelfth doctor x reader
↳ a/n - this is the fic that i’ve been writing for ages, i’m so sorry it took ages to get out! i’ve taken quotes directly from the episode that this is based off of because this is my first time writing for the twelfth doctor, i hope i did okay! <3
↳ content warnings - mention of death, mention of injury, sad :(
↳ 3.6k word count
↳ just a reminder that reblogs are seriously appreciated as it helps my work get seen by more people!
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The whirring of the TARDIS started below her bedroom window, and as the noise travelled up into her room it was loud enough to wake her up. For the time that it took for her to jump up and pull on her shoes before she ran downstairs, an overwhelming feeling of excitement filled her system. She was always excited to see The Doctor, but this time something in her was telling her that this trip would be even better than usual. She didn’t know what or why, but she hoped that her gut was right. Was this the day she finally got the confidence to tell him?
The doorbell rang as she descended the stairs. Once, twice, three times, all until she opened up the door, and stood face to face with him. The sight of him for a moment shocked her, but why would it shock her? He was still the same floppy-haired bow-tie clad idiot that she had been travelling with. But seeing him made her chest swell with a feeling like it had been years since they were together, like she was expecting somebody else. But that was absurd, nothing was wrong. Even still, a huge grin broke out on her face and she practically flung herself into his already open arms, giggling into his shoulder when she was lifted slightly off the ground.
She had been travelling with him on and off for so long, ever since the striped suit and sandshoes, but it was different now. He had regenerated a good while ago into a younger, sillier, and generally nicer man. It was setting her up to fail, because how was she not going to fall in love with him? Every time she saw him she fell deeper and deeper, and whilst she knew that realistically it could never work because of who they were, she couldn’t help it.
The orange glow from the TARDIS was almost heavenly as she stepped inside, a bright smile on her face. Once again, she felt like she hadn’t been there in so long, but that couldn’t be right. She saw The Doctor all the time, nothing was wrong. The ship whirred as she stepped in and she had to smile as she hung her dressing gown over the railing. It always felt like home inside the blue box.
“Where to?” The Doctor was already bouncing around the console and she grinned as she stepped up beside him, careful not to press any buttons as she leaned against it. She had accidentally almost pressed a huge purple button once, and she had to endure twenty minutes of lecturing about how it would “completely blow up most rooms in the TARDIS!”. Sometimes she wondered why he had such buttons on the ship in the first place. “Anywhere you want, all of time and space.” It always made her smile when he said that.
The feeling of surprise hadn’t left her gut, the feeling like she hadn’t been there in years, so she simply shrugged as she smiled widely at him. “I don’t know, anywhere you want.”
“You humans always do that,” At his complaint she had to press her lips together in order to not laugh. “Never answering questions. Quite frankly, it is very annoying…”
Her eyes caught something across the room, and as The Doctor continued to ramble whilst he moved around the console, she stopped paying attention as she walked down the steps and towards one of the walls where something had been written in chalk. Her name. She frowned in confusion as she glanced back at The Doctor, who was still rambling on the other side of the console, completely unaware of where she had moved to. Y/N reached a hand up and gently rubbed at the chalk with her finger, and it came off of the wall.
“Doctor? Can you see this?” She cut off his rambling, and he poked his head around the console to look at her.
“See what? Why are you all the way over there?” He tilted his head, and as he clearly didn’t see anything on the wall when she gestured to it, the now empty space she realised when she glanced at the wall, she just shook her head. Maybe she was just tired.
“Just thought I saw something.” She mumbled, offering him a small smile.
Though when she turned back around there was something else written on the wall instead, that made her stomach lurch.
Wake up.
She stared at the wall as a painful stabbing fear appeared in her stomach. No, the TARDIS was just playing tricks on her, or The Doctor was, or she really did need to sort out her sleep schedule. She took in a deep breath and wiped the chalk off the wall, closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed in relief when she opened them again and nothing was there.
“It’s a dream.”
The Doctor’s voice sent a chill down her spine, and her chest felt a little heavier with anxiety when she turned back to face him.
“What did you say?”
“Space Paris, it’s like a dream - blimey, have you not been listening to anything that I’m talking about?”
Y/N released a breath of relief and rubbed her eyes as she pinned it down to being tired. She needed to sleep more, she was going to make herself go crazy. “Sorry, I got distracted.” She offered him a smile as she stepped back up the stairs towards him. Y/N took in a deep breath as she leaned against the console, and closed her eyes to push the thought out of her mind. The anxiety in her stomach was still prominent in the form of a churning pain, and for a moment she was worried that she would be sick.
“Hey,” She flinched when she felt a hand against her arm, and when she opened her eyes The Doctor was stood right in front of her. “We don’t have to go anywhere if you aren’t feeling well,” His thumb rubbed along her arm comfortingly, and she smiled slightly as she nodded. “Are you feeling sick? Oh! I actually have something for that, hold on just a tic.” He smiled at her before he removed his hand from her arm and turned to leave the console room, presumably to the med-bay to get whatever he had for her.
As soon as he had left Y/N shut her eyes again, not willing to risk seeing anything else that wasn’t real. If everything around her was a dream then she’d know. No dream could be this real. It was a stupid thought. Everything about that night must just have been down to her imagination; the surprise when she saw The Doctor, the writing on the walls, the anxiety that swirled in her stomach. She inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily, trying to gather her bearings until The Doctor was back.
Someone called her name, and whilst she knew the voice wasn’t her Doctor, it was still all too familiar. Without thinking her eyes snapped open, and her breath stopped midway up her throat as her eyes widened at the sight around her.
Every inch of the walls was covered in the same handwriting and the same chalk, but this time the word had changed. In huge angry letters, scribbles of the word “Dying!” was all she could see around her. She turned on the spot as her chest grew tighter, and the more she turned the larger and bolder the words became. By the time she had completed a full circle, the words were a furious red that sent enough fear into her to let out a pained cry as she fell to the floor, and cradled her head in her palms.
“This is real,” She sobbed, sucking in a deep breath as she trembled. “This is real, this is real, this is real…”
“Y/N?” She didn’t move when she heard The Doctor’s voice, her Doctor’s, and she just continued to cry when she felt him kneel beside her before his arms wrapped around her. “Deep breaths, you’re okay, I’m here.” He tucked his hand against the back of her head as she cried and cradled her against his shoulder. His embrace was warm and effortlessly comforting, and she couldn’t help but smile slightly as he held her in his embrace. Even at a time where she felt so upset, her feelings for him were made apparent. After a few minutes she had eventually calmed down a little, and she sighed as she allowed herself to pull from the hug.
“Sorry.” She rubbed her eyes with her palm, and took in a deep breath as she just leaned back against the base of the console.
“That’s okay, you don’t need to apologise,” He took a seat beside her, and gently took her hand. His fingers laced with her’s gently, and the warmth of his palm was a gentle comfort against her own. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? If you’re still feeling sick I have something for you. It’s this fruit from the planet Evande that basically acts as a relaxant, and-” He cut himself off as she rested her head against his shoulder with a soft sigh.
“I think I’m just not sleeping properly,” She mumbled, and let her eyes fall closed as she felt his arm move around her once more. “I keep making things up and getting really anxious, and now I think I’m starting to get a headache.” Y/N winced and rubbed at the side of her head where a small pinching pain had grown.
“That’s alright, we don’t have to go anywhere if you’re tired.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head, right above where the pain was, and for a moment everything was okay. A soft smile crossed over her lips and she allowed herself to fully relax in his arms.
It took another few minutes for her to calm completely; the only reminder of her previous breakdown hidden in the form of the dried tear streaks across her face. It amazed her how he could always make her feel so much better. Maybe it was some Time Lord thing that she wasn’t aware of, maybe he had a genuine skill at calming people down, or maybe she was just that in love with him. It was probably the latter. Sometime through him holding her where they were both sat underneath the console, he had leaned back fully and when she glanced up it was the first time she’d ever seen his eyes closed for longer than a blink. If she didn’t know any better she would have thought that he was asleep. Did Time Lords sleep ever?
“Doctor?” The word was soft-spoken as she closed her eyes again, but inside she was absolutely terrified. Of all things that she could do with him to pass the time, she was going to tell him that she loved him. She didn’t know why, she had been completely against the thought of telling him for weeks. It was a long story.
He hummed in response, and when she glanced up he was looking at her again, with the same idiotic smile that she had fallen for in the first place.
She opened her mouth to respond again, but all of the words suddenly got lodged in her throat. His arm that was around her was all she could think about, and all she could hear or see or smell was him. It was almost like her own personal anaesthetic that was preventing her from doing anything. “I-“
The knock at the TARDIS door was a surprise. She had flinched immediately as she tilted her head up to look at the door, whilst The Doctor got his footing. He helped her up just as a second knock came, causing her to flinch again. Why would anybody be knocking at the door? Had they moved?
“Are we still outside my house?” She asked, her voice thick with anxiety.
“Yeah, we haven’t moved…” The Doctor was staring at the screen of the TARDIS for too long, and his face was almost pale by the time he turned back to face her. “It’s for you.”
Y/N blinked. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Open it.”
Y/N stared at him incredulously for a long moment, before she walked down the steps towards the doors and pulled them open after a slight hesitation. And she physically felt her heart sink.
It was The Doctor… but it wasn’t. He was too old, too grey… too Scottish. And for a moment nothing made sense. She could feel her heart thud against her chest as she inhaled deeply, and she had to grip onto the edge of the door as everything became a bit too much. Flashes of the regeneration and the old man that was left behind blossomed in her mind, but that couldn’t have been right. Her Doctor was right behind her.
“Of course,” The voice was too different as he spoke, but she recognised it as the voice she heard earlier calling her name. “Of course it’d be here… him.”
“I don’t…” Her breathing had quickened again, and her grip on the door had grown so tight that her hand shook. “I don’t understand…”
“This isn’t real. You know it’s not real, because how can it be?. It’s a dream, and it’s killing you,” The Doctor stared at her for a moment, fear and something else warped in his eyes, before he pointed behind her, where her Doctor was still hunched over in front of the monitor. “He’s not real, none of this is real. What is real is that there is an alien organism wrapped around your face, keeping you warm and happy while it eats you. You’re dying.”
“You’re scaring me,” She whispered as tears started to blur her vision. “How can…what even is-”
“Kantrofarri. More commonly known as dream crabs. They tap into the optic nerve in your brain, and keep you happy as it sucks your brain out of your skull. You have a pain on the side of your head, right here,” He reached forwards and tapped right above the pinch in her head with a cold finger. “The skin and bone have been parted, about half an inch, and something has pushed right into the soft tissue of your brain, and is very slowly dissolving it.”
“Doctor…”
“I want you to picture it this way; somebody has put a straw through your skull and is drinking you. You should be screaming with agony, but there’s anaesthetic. This is all anaesthetic.”
“Doctor, please.” She whispered as she wiped her tears.
“...even him, especially him. He died a long time go. That’s the anaesthetic. This isn't real. You have minutes until this is irreversible, until I can't save you.”
She stood there for a moment as the tears trickled down her cheeks, and glanced between him and her Doctor. She had to swallow through the lump in her throat before she spoke again. “If I’m dying then how are you here?”
“There was only one way that I could get to you,” Her stomach dropped as she realised where his words were going. “Sometimes they travel in pairs. I found the buddy of the one on your face.”
“Doctor, why would you do that?” She asked through her tears, her free hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook whilst she cried. “You could have just left me here, please just save yourself and leave me.”
“I have to save you,” He was staring at her like she had said the most outrageous thing. “It’s what I’ve always done… even when I was him…” He looked over at his younger self, and she watched as the pain formed in his expression. “You have one more minute, and then you’re coming outside and we are waking up. One minute.” He stared at her for a moment, the promise of his words held tight in their gaze, before he turned and left the TARDIS to wait for her outside.
Y/N didn’t move. Her chest heaved and the tears flowed faster, but her feet were rooted to the spot. She couldn’t find the strength in herself to face the truth, but the pain in the side of her head served as the reminder that this wasn’t real.
“Y/N…”
He was behind her, and that was all she had needed to turn around. She flung herself at him in the same movement, crying as she hid her face against his chest. She felt the tweed of his jacket between her fingers for the last time, and the grip of his arms as he hugged her back for the last time.
“Hey, it’s okay, come on. Don’t cry, this should be a happy moment.” His words were whispered into her hair, and she shook her head.
“How can you say that?” She choked out.
“Because this is extra. Extra time together, a bonus moment that nobody else will ever get,” His lips pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, before he leaned back and cupped her face in both of his hands. “Y/N, you and I both know that it’s impossible for me to really be here, no matter how brilliant I may be.”
“But it could be him, he could be the dream-”
Her Doctor sighed, and started gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “We both know that’s not true. I regenerated… this version of me is gone, just a story now. An amazing, wonderful, brilliant story in your head. But that’s okay, we’re all stories in the end. I’ll always be with you in memory.”
“But,” It felt like she was choking on her tears, and she had to grip onto the lapels of his jacket as she dragged a breath in. “But when I wake up you won’t be there, not really.”
Her Doctor smiled sadly, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s still me. Maybe the accent went a little off this time but it’s still me,” She smiled through her tears at the joke, and sighed. “And since he’s still me, I know exactly just how scared he is of losing you right now. Please don’t make him go through that. Do it for me, eh? Be amazing for me… for him.”
Her bottom lip trembled as she nodded, and she watched him smile as he pressed one last kiss to her forehead before he pulled away. “Now go. My amazing girl.”
She swallowed thickly and nodded as she gave him one last smile, before she inhaled deeply before she walked out of the TARDIS. The Doctor was stood there like he said he would be, a small sad smile across his lips. His arm extended out towards her, and once she had taken his hand he squeezed it gently.
“Just close your eyes, and think about waking up. Think about how this isn’t real.”
Her eyes snapped open with a gasp, and her body lunged forwards with coughs that hurt her chest as she tried to breathe inwards. Her bedsheets felt like they were smothering her, and she shoved the, off of herself in a panic. A scuttle of a creature caught her eye, and as she watched what must have been the dream crab crumble into pieces it only made her panic worse.
“Y/N it’s okay, look at me!” She only tore her eyes away from the creature when she felt a hand on her arm, the drag of her breathing painful in her throat as she met his eyes. Familiar, yet not as familiar as she was used to. Her eyes closed again as she listened to him. “Just breathe… breathe.”
It took a moment for her breathing to slow, and once it had the memories of the dream came back to her. She was silent for a moment as she tried to take it in, and once she had her teary eyes opened again to look at him. He was on the bed beside her, sat up, and she realised he must have squeezed himself beside her as the dream crab got him too. His TARDIS was in the corner of her bedroom, and she swallowed at the realisation that it was different inside.
Wordlessly, he made a move to get up, but her hand gripped his arm gently as a request for him to stay. He was looking at her in confusion, which was expected after the dream, but she said nothing as she leaned her head against his shoulder with a soft sigh.
“Y/N-”
“I’m sorry,” She whispered, effectively silencing him. “I know you’re still… well, you. It’s just hard. You’re the same but still so different in so many ways, and it’s just still hard to come to terms with it all,” She sighed, the tears falling from her eyes again. “You’re still the biggest part of my life and you’re still my favourite person. I hope you know that. I just need some time to adjust to this.”
He slowly moved his arm around her as she spoke, and she heard him hum in response once she had finished speaking. They were both silent for a long moment, his arm still holding her against himself, before he spoke up again.
“Is it the eyebrows?”
She giggled quietly at his words, and finally relaxed into his embrace. He leaned back against the headboard of the bed and she followed, properly tucking herself against his side. “Yes,” She giggled tearfully. “It is definitely the eyebrows.”
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riversofmars · 3 years
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Do you remember the funny plot with Twelve taking Clara away and Danny finding things suspicious on her return? I'd love if you could use this plot idea with River taking the Doctor away in the middle of her trips with the fam and then the fam getting suspicious on her return.
This was fun! Thank you for the prompt! Something light and easy in between writing my Whumptober pieces, just what I needed! Hope you like it!! <3
Rating: G
Word Count: 1500
Read below or on AO3
Interlude
“Doctor?“ Yaz looked around the jungle. She scanned their surroundings, utterly confused. Where had the Doctor got to? She was meant to be leading the way but Yaz had lost sight of her in the thicket.
“Where’s she gone?“ Ryan frowned, confused as well, and Graham added:
“I swear she was here a minute ago.“ They halted their progress and looked around, searching for their Time Lord friend. It wasn’t like her to walk too far ahead, particularly not when they were on an alien world that none of them had visited before. The Doctor had been very excited to take them, promising them the most beautiful flora and fauna. And indeed, the jungle was a marvel, with exotic flowers and huge insects beyond belief. They were, however, also keenly aware of the Doctor’s initial warning: a lot of the most beautiful things could end up being poisonous or dangerous. Therefore, having their experienced tour guide at hand was rather important. It made the Doctor’s sudden disappearance all the more worrying.
“Doctor?!“ Yaz called out loudly, and Ryan and Graham joined in. There was no answer.
“Did you hear that?“ Ryan asked suddenly, when there was a noise up ahead. A sort of shuffling sound, and huffs and groans. The Fam exchanged confused looks.
“Doctor?“ Graham called out again, and suddenly someone or something started ruffling the trees up ahead, so much so that some of them started bending and came down in front of their eyes.
“Oh no…“ Yaz breathed when the noise came closer quickly, almost like rolling thunder, and suddenly, a rhinoceros three times the size of its relatives from Earth charged out of the thicket and straight towards them.
“Quick, back to the TARDIS,“ Ryan yelled, and they started running, back the way they came.
Suddenly, Graham slammed into the Doctor.
“What are you guys running from?“ The Time Lord grinned, seemingly completely unfazed.
“Where have you been?“ Yaz exclaimed, shocked, and she looked back around to find the wild animal gaining on them.
“Right here,“ the Doctor answered cheerfully.
“If you had been, you would have noticed a giant rhino that’s charging after us,“ Yaz yelled, urging them all onward.
“Oh…“ The Doctor’s face fell as she spotted the rhinoceros as well and quickly turned on her heels. “To the TARDIS!!“
The Fam sprinted through the jungle. Luckily, the TARDIS was close by. They hadn’t exactly gotten far with their excursion before the Doctor had disappeared.
“Inside!“ The Doctor yelled as they reached the blue box, and they piled in, quickly slamming the door behind them. The Doctor hurried to the console and launched them into the time vortex. Despite the TARDIS being one of the safest places in the universe, waiting to see what would happen if a giant rhino charged into the door somehow didn’t sound like a good idea.
“That was close…“ Graham gave a sigh of relief as they all dropped onto the stairs, trying to catch their breaths.
“Why were you making such a racket, no wonder it came charging for us,“ the Doctor asked, breathing heavily as well.
“You disappeared,“ Yaz shot back accusingly.
“No I didn’t…“ The Doctor retorted quickly but received incredulous looks from her friends.
“Yes you did, one moment you were there, then you were gone…“ Ryan explained and Graham carried on:
“And then you were back again, what’s that about?“
“Nothing, I think you’re imagining…“ The Doctor tried to wave it off and returned her attention to the console.
“Where is your coat gone?“ Yaz asked when she noticed something was different about the Doctor. “Did you lose it during the chase?“ She frowned.
“What?“ The Doctor didn’t seem to know what to say.
“You were wearing your coat earlier, now you’re not!“ Yaz insisted and Graham and Ryan nodded. It was very rare for the Doctor to take her coat off at all so it was quite noticeable now, that they weren’t running for their lives anymore.
“Oh…“ The Doctor looked down at herself as if she had only just noticed she didn't have it on.
“And what has happened to your hair?“ Yaz carried on as she realised how much of a mess the Doctor’s hair was.
“And your neck, oh my God, Doctor, were you attacked?“ Ryan asked as he spotted red marks on her throat. He got to his feet, as did the others, suddenly very concerned.
“No, no, stop fussing, it’s all good, I…“ The Doctor tried to brush it off but the Fam cornered her.
“Hang on… is that a love bite?“ Yaz exclaimed, sounding scandalised upon closer observation as the Doctor tried her best to cover her neck. Only without her coat, she had no collar to put up. “Where did you disappear off to?“ She demanded to know again.
“And how?“ Ryan added. “It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, what…“
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,“ the Doctor huffed, trying to wiggle away from them. “Anyway, we best be off, places to go, things to do, we can’t very well leave the TARDIS with that massive rhino out there, so we should…“ She ducked under Ryan’s arm, making for the other side of the console. “Oh no… my sonic…“ She suddenly realised she was missing something very important as she stuck her hands into her trouser pockets.
“Did you lose it in the chase?“ Graham suggested.
“Or is it in your coat pocket?“ Yaz quipped as they all got rather amused with the Doctor’s embarrassed behaviour.
“Ah no, I…“ The Doctor stammered, turning her pockets inside out.
Suddenly there was an electric discharge fizzing in the air, and a woman appeared in the middle of the control room. She had an impressive head of world curls and was dressed in nothing but a silky dressing gown. She was also carrying the Doctor's coat and sonic screwdriver.
“Sorry love, you forgot this!“ The mystery woman announced with a winning smile that she flashed at the Doctor and gave a little wave towards the Fam.
“What the-!“ Ryan yelped, startled by the sudden arrival and lack of clothes.
“Who are you, how did you get in here?!“ Yaz exclaimed, shocked as well.
“Ah…“ The woman looked down at herself, realising what the main problem was, judging by the blushing faces all round.
“River!“ The Doctor seemed rather mortified herself.
“I thought you were by yourself!“ River countered with a shrug.
“Clearly not!“ The Doctor hissed but hurried towards her regardless, in pursuit of her missing items.
“Well, you left your coat and your sonic!“ River sighed, handing them over.
“I thought you said you didn’t go anywhere!“ Yaz piped up accusingly, and the Doctor gave a pitiful sigh.
“Must dash, till next time, Sweetie!“ River beamed and cheerfully kissed the Doctor’s cheek. Then, as quickly as she had come, she disappeared again with the help of the vortex manipulator on her wrist.
“Well, well, well…“ Graham spoke first, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tried to stay serious but his grin betrayed him.
“And who, pray tell, was that?“ Yaz asked, mirroring Graham, as did Ryan.
“That, uh…“ The Doctor blushed scarlet. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter…“ She quickly pulled her coat on and pushed her sonic into her pocket.
“Has she got a vortex manipulator like Jack!“ Ryan carried on and Yaz jumped in as well:
“Is Jack a Time Lord and you never said and that’s him but a different regeneration?“
“What?! NO!“ The Doctor exclaimed, mortified at the very thought. “That’s River! Professor River Song! Jack?! Honestly?!“ She shook her head vehemently.
“So you like… time travelled away while we were following you through an alien jungle?“ Yaz asked, raising her eyebrows accusingly.
“She may have… popped in… and taken me away for a bit…“ The Doctor admitted in a small voice as she fiddled with the console.
“For what? A few minutes? Half an hour?“ Yaz carried on.
“Well, more like… a few hours… a day… time travel, you know, you never notice how time flies when you’re having fun…“ The Doctor gave a dismissive wave of her hand, trying to brush it off like it was nothing.
“You stopped off for a day’s worth of shagging in the middle of showing us a brand new planet?!“ Graham exclaimed.
“You try saying no when your wife turns up out of the blue and whisks you away!“ The Doctor shot back, trying to smooth the back of her hair.
“YOUR WIFE?!“ The Fam yelled in unison.
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13atoms · 3 years
Text
Slippery Fingers [Dhawan!Master x Reader]
Took longer than I expected, and I haven’t written smut in forever so forgive it being a little rusty, but here’s the Dh!Master smut which (barely) won the oneshot fic vote! 
Also sorry if you’re a massage therapist, we’re on a different planet so I’m hoping the now-defunct word ‘masseuse’ is still in-vogue there!
Contents: Happy Ending Massage from an alien, Smut, Jealousy, yet another unsuccessful trip to a spa planet. [8k]
*
“You never take me anywhere fun!” You had pouted, pushing the Master’s buttons as he researched yet another scheme.
In truth, he did take you places fun. At least, places he thought were fun. But in all of time and space, there had to be more relaxing ways to have fun than overthrowing monarchies and trying to instigate political disasters.
He’d tried taking you hiking, once, but both of you had complained an hour in. He was bored, you were too sweaty, and no one was enjoying themselves. He’d teleported the pair of you back to the TARDIS, and you’d robbed a weapon store instead.
Still, you were determined he should take you somewhere fun.
The Master’s raised an eyebrow, a concealed smile making his lips twitch.
“A theme park, a beach, a… um… a waterpark? I’ll wear something revealing?” you teased, knowing he would never take you up on the offer.
The flirtation the two of you engaged with was frustratingly endless – just a bit of fun.
You relished in the way his eyes couldn’t meet yours, as he considered your suggestions. Maybe imagined them, too.
“Sounds boring,” he finally commented.
“What’s boring about a little hedonistic fun?”
He smiled, striding across the outback-interior of his TARDIS to finally meet you beside the console. Good. Co-ordinates were being set, the screens displaying a stream of impossibly fast information in a language you couldn’t read.
The Master was planning something.
“Hedonism is about pleasure, dearest,” he ground out the last word, and it made you smile.
You refrained from making the ‘old married couple’ joke that so many strangers made on your travels, because it rang a little too true.
“Yeah?”
“And if you’re in the mood for hedonism, you won’t find that pleasure in an amusement park.”
You raised your eyebrows, leaning against the console very intentionally, so his fingers had to brush your hip to flick the switches he needed. He shot you a knowing glance, as his hand lingered a little too long.
“Where will I find pleasure, Master?”
For a beat he paused, his lips parted and somehow inviting, mere inches from yours. Then he leant forwards, only to whisper.
“A spa.”
You felt the tension in the room pop, blown-bubblegum pierced by a pin and flying back into your face. Sticky and shocking and unpleasant. It took you a second to remember where you were – and who you were with. A retort came uncomfortably slowly, and you startled as the TARDIS began to dematerialise.
“Still trying to get me in a bathing suit?”
The Master winked.
*
As you stepped off the TARDIS, you found yourself in a stiflingly warm room, reaching for the Master’s arm subconsciously as he offered it.
All around you was a plush whiteness, creams and sterile surfaces somehow designed in such a way that the space felt both perfectly welcoming and clean. The TARDIS door locked quietly behind you, disguised as an inconspicuous cupboard, as the Master chose a direction to walk.
“This is one of the most exclusive spas in the whole quadrant – horrendously expensive.”
“Want to split the bill?” you teased, knowing damn well he’d never let you pay for anything.
Not that you could. What was the currency here? Credits? You’d never even considered it.
He gave you a laugh, tightening his hold on your arm as a lavender-skinned member of staff walked past you in mint-green scrubs, politely avoiding looking at you. They were a clear foot taller than the Master, and you tried not to stare.
“I hacked their systems to check,” the time lord boasted, “and it’s the quietest day they’ve ever had. We’re the only patrons.”
“That doesn’t seem very time-travel safe,” you chided, remembering the phrase from the countless times he’d warned you against doing something to change a timeline.
He rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help smiling fondly.
“It’s okay when I do it,” he sniffed.
Finally, you had found some kind of reception desk.
With nothing more than a smile and a few nods to the softly-spoken receptionist, you watched as the Master handed over a payment stick and arranged everything. You found yourself handed a dressing gown as white as the rest of the décor in this place, and so fluffy and warm you immediately pressed it against your face, much to the Master’s fond amusement.
“It’s really soft,” you explained, and he rolled his eyes.
“Go get changed.”
*
In the end, the cubicles you were offered to for changing were adjacent, and you were quite glad you didn’t have to offer any kind of gender-segregated spa-experience. The Master chattered away as the two of you showered and changed, spa employees silently arriving to administer all manner of hair and skin treatments before you enjoyed the rest of the facilities.
Hair conditioned and skin moisturised, you emerged from the cubicle to see the Master in just a dressing gown – mirroring yours – and the sight made you strangely uneasy. It wasn’t often he dressed down. Certainly never willingly, as far as you could remember. With conditioner combed into his hair and beard, a treatment across his nose, he had never looked less threatening.
You bit your lip to stifle a laugh which he clearly expected, already glowering at you.
“Come on,” he complained, heading for the next room.
He didn’t offer you an arm, but he did hold the door open. As you brushed past him, you noticed they’d combed the hair treatment into his eyebrows. You wondered if choosing the quietest day in history hadn’t been – as you assumed – for your benefit. His pride seemed a little wounded.
“It’s good to relax!” You reassured him, holding out your arm. He ignored it.
“For humans, perhaps.”
You leant into his shoulder briefly, trying to wind him up.
“Even big scary time lords need a break! Though, you do have a disappointingly tame interpretation of hedonism.”
“I was thinking of bodily pleasure, darling.” he purred, “I’m sorry if this doesn’t meet your exacting standards.”
Trying to ignore the rush his implication sent through you, you kept your eyes trained on the soft carpet ahead. How do they keep it so clean? I suppose no one wears shoes here.
“But I’ll ask you to reserve judgement until you’ve seen how good the massage therapists are. I believe on earth you might call it sinful.”
With a contented hum, you walked with him to the open treatment room.
*
As you sat in adjacent chairs, you realised just how naked both of you were, both adjusting your robes to cover yourself as a receptionist approached. She explained everything rapidly, and the Master nodded in understanding. You trusted he would reiterate anything important – you were distracted by the bare slice of his thigh he kept fidgeting to cover.
In lieu of clipboards they handed you tablet-style devices, which seemed familiar enough. The prices of the treatments seemed huge, but the Master told you to ignore them. Maybe the currency here was just inflated. The Master never seemed bothered, at any rate.
He was scrolling through his own options, and you knew he struggled to allow himself to go through anything that might seem self-care-y. The parallel massage tables set up ahead of you seemed to suggest you would be in the room with him, and privately you hoped he might allow himself to relax, to trust a highly-skilled stranger, with you right there.
“What are you getting?” you asked, curiously looking at his screen.
The options were all described luxuriously, with various options for oils and smells and styles, different firmnesses of touch and different problem areas the therapists could focus on. You were settled on some focus on your left thigh, the lingering ache of a muscle there had been bothering you since you’d fallen running from an enraged palace guard last week. Besides that, you had no idea what to select.
“Just something standard,” the Master told you non-committally, and you marvelled at how embarrassing this seemed to be for him.
Then, something caught your eye.
“What are these options?”
You pointed on your own tablet, pointing to one of the most expensive options at the bottom of the page.
Indulgent twenty-minute full body muscle release with Lerimoya blossom oil, Akesian-style massage and skin treatment. Completed with sexual release and relaxing cool-down.
The Master’s jaw seemed to clench minutely, but you pretended to ignore it.
“Exactly what it says,” he told you curtly.
You scrolled back up to the top of the options, taking a moment to consider his bluntness. You had to admit… there was something very tempting about it. Getting yourself off on the TARDIS made you nervous – a living ship with a consciousness watching you bite back moans as you masturbated a deeply un-erotic thought each time you remembered it. But this was clinical. Self-care.
The Master was a ceaseless flirt, but seemed unable to deliver on his gazes and winks and comments. You needed something.
“Isn’t that… taboo here?”
“As common as a back rub, love.”
His curtness hadn’t ceased, and it irritated you for some reason. So much for being relaxed.
The time lord had impatiently clicked some arbitrary option at the top of his list, no doubt the shortest massage he could get away with. He was already clicking his tongue, holding the device out to be collected by the receptionist. You took a deep breath.
He was always telling you to take what you want and be hedonistic. You scrolled down quickly, selecting the option, selecting the areas of your body which hurt (not least that damn thigh) before holding out the device.
You could feel his eyes on you, your cheeks burning, and some deep part of you igniting at the thought of what was about to happen. You were looking forward to it, you realised. So much.
“Chosen something expensive?” he ground out, the joke landing flat as his tone seemed oddly monotonous.
“If you’re paying, then of course.”
It was only as the tablets were taken gently from you by a kindly receptionist that you remembered the massage room would be shared. A screen seemed to have appeared silently between the massage tables, and you hoped your look of appreciation was understood by the alien.
*
There was something surreal about being asked to undress just a screen away from the Master, knowing he was doing the same on the other side, mere feet away as the lights dimmed and incense burned.
The spa workers were softly spoken and considerate, putting you at ease immediately as you lay down, feeling acutely aware of your body against the table. You weren’t sure where to put your arms, fidgeting, until warm oily hands smoothed them down by your sides, and you fought your instincts in order to stay still.
You wondered how the Master was doing. He wasn’t the best at letting other people touch him. At being vulnerable. He hated leaving his back exposed, always afraid someone would stab him in it.
You thought, for a moment, about trying to talk to him.
Would that be rude? Would it help him?
But talking felt uncomfortable, laying like this, and you couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
As large, warm hands started their work on your bare back, you let all thought of conversation go. You closed your eyes, feeling the smooth, gentle release of your muscles as they were expertly relaxed. The larger frames of the aliens here seemed to make them strong, pressure spread across fingertips which felt human-enough, the smell and warmth of the room tempting you near sleep, wringing soft noises of approval from you which you didn’t bother to conceal.
The time seemed to stretch on forever, in a delicious, in-urgent way you rarely experienced with the Master. He was always in a rush, unable to stand still even with a time machine.
This was, you conceded, luxurious and hedonistic: pleasure above all else. Pure self-indulgence. The pursuit of nothing but feeling good.
You could almost forget he was there. Soft music and the gentle movements of the massage therapists were the only sounds, until suddenly he was there again. For seconds at a time, in small noises, his presence seemed looming. The shifting of his beard against the table beneath him, a grunt of discomfort as a knot was released in his back, once a snap to not touch my neck.
He settled, soon enough, his treatment seeming more painful and intense than yours. You could hear the slap of skin onto his, the breath forced from his lungs as a considerable force was applied to his body. You tried to tune it out, each time the masseuse seemed to be hurting him. Likely by his own choice, you lamented. It was short, too. Your massage therapist had only just begun to work on the ache in your thigh, doing a marvellous job of easing the pain, when his massage was slowly finished.
Your body felt as though it was melting into the table, pleasantly warm with the oil and the heat of the room. Only because you strained your ears, you heard his masseuse leave the room, with a gentle instruction to lay still until they returned.
It was strangely difficult to enjoy the rest of your massage as you wondered what he was thinking about, just laying there. You had feared he might ignore their instructions and move, but he seemed to be behaving himself for the day.
A gentle murmur of “turn over for me” brought you back to your body, made your eyes snap open and a sudden rush of blood to the head caused you to feel disoriented.
“Take your time,” the massage therapist coaxed, as their soft hands guided you in turning slowly, careful not to let you fall off the table.
You had forgotten what was coming next.
The low murmur of something indiscernible started, a humming noise you soon tuned out, as hands found their way across your stomach. You felt yourself clench at the contact. This was different. Slower, more sensual touches, beyond the realm of what you would consider professional. You bit your lip, toying with stopping the treatment early, until you realised the source of the quiet buzzing.
As one huge hand began to knead at your breast, the other reached for the slipperiness between your legs.
Vibrations against your clit made you gasp, their expertly firm touches pulling you lazily yet inevitably closer towards orgasm. Your entire body felt dragged along with the certainty of a current in a river, moved as surely as gravity, pleasure growing stronger and stronger. As fingers pried your willing, limp legs apart, you let your hands roam your own oily skin, no longer caring about the noises you let slip past your lips, the quiet begs for more.
The calls of yes, please, fuck.
For a second, the Master’s fidgeting pulled you back into the room, making you gasp. But then the buzzing sped up, rubbing fingers joining it, and your mind went blank.
*
The Master grit his teeth, knowing nothing good could come from letting you tick that stupid box. It had been a kind of dare, a test of whether you’d actually do it. He thought he’d been playing good odds, in truth, even as a feeling of something uneasy had risen in his stomach at the thought of it.
A happy ending massage.
Or rather, you receiving a happy ending massage.
Perhaps he’d underestimated his own fondness of the pure art pleasure seeking, because his barely-relaxed body was already tensing again just listening to the hum of whatever tool they were using to finish the complete sexual release you had requested.
The whole time that damn alien had been abusing the muscles of his back, he had been wondering what you’d selected. If you actually had the nerve to go through with it. The treatment was popular here, he knew. In fact, the spa was famous for it. Famously good at it. Human anatomy and human pleasure were close enough to theirs that the richest interstellar-travellers from earth colonies would begin to arrive just a few years from the date he had chosen. They would all be seeking out the exact treatment which had caught your eye.
A strange thing to be famous for, he supposed, but popular. Certainly lucrative, and – was that moan?
*
It felt like it lasted an eternity, listening to how those… creatures finished their supposed-treatment, moans and calls and staccato words leaving your voice with a keening, sensual desperation he had never heard from you before. The slick sounds of your body had accompanied the buzzing of that device in the most insufferable symphony he had ever heard. He had considered leaving, so many times, gritting his teeth and trying to school his body into nonchalance as you finally came. The Master tried to block it out as you moaned, and laughed, and thanked the massage therapist, and apologised for thanking them… joked with the alien, no doubt glowing and coated with sweat and oil, flushed, your pants filling the room alongside contented hums.
He wondered why he couldn’t stand it.
“I’ll leave you for a few minutes to calm down,” the massage therapist had told you gently, and he had grimaced as you gave a breathy, giggling reply.
“I think I’ll need it.”
Then they were alone. And nothing should have changed dammit, and yet everything had. And he damned Rassilion and all those other bastards who decided time lords should be sexless and uncomfortable naked because fuck nothing had prepared him for this, no matter how much he pretended he was nothing like them.
He loathed to admit when humans were better than him at something, but in this situation, he longed to be the kind of species who could meet your eye after this.
You laughed again, suddenly, airily, and he wondered if that was supposed to be some kind of cue for him to say something.
Something witty.
Something clever.
Something him.
“All okay?” he choked out.
He was still on his front, and frankly dreading standing to change, and he wondered how you were laying. On your back, still, he presumed. All sticky and sweaty and mile-a-minute heartbeat like humans tended to be. He could smell pheromones from here, loathing his body for how he was reacting.
Yet another reason to dread standing.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” you called back, so obviously sated and giggly from just your voice.
“It was exactly what you chose, love.”
The pet name sounded unnatural, forced, and he prayed you were too whacked out on hormones to notice. The spa worker slunk back into the room, and he took a moment to hate them, to hate those fingers which had been slippery and clever all over you. His stomached clenched as he wondered if they’d been inside of you.  
As the lavender and mint form disappeared between the divider, the Master shoved his face roughly back against the table.
This room is too hot, he grumbled silently to himself, stupid human temperatures.
He wondered if you were cold, your skin risen in goosebumps, or if you were warm. Pliable. Slippery and soft and –
“How are you feeling?”
“Perfect.”
He could hear the stupid smile in your voice.
“Glad to hear it, if you’re ready to stand for me…”
The Master couldn’t help the furrow of his forehead, the dig of his fingernails into the soft surface of the table. Then he heard the matching gasps of you and the massage therapist, half-way pushing himself up to run around there and save you from whatever had happened and… you were fine.
Laughing, apologising for being lightheaded, saved from falling by the spa worker who had righted you. They were coaxing you to be slow, to be careful, and suddenly the Master was remembering the times he’d bellowed at you to go faster. To push your human physiology, to keep up with him. He could hear his own rough shouts, loud and harsh enough that they had made everyone around you wince with sympathy.
Then, he wondered why those thoughts were in his mind. And why that pang of guilt was making his hearts ache.
His damned masseuse had come back, no doubt from a smoke break or a lunch break or whatever these purple creatures did, helping him quickly into his robe. They offered him far less comfort than your massage therapist seemed to think was appropriate, still fussing and saying goodbye on the other side of the stupid divider.
He waved them away with a curt “good, yes, thank you.”
Then, he found himself looking straight at you.
And he couldn’t stand it.
*
The Master led you from the room with a military stride, taking some twisted pleasure in how you jogged to trail behind him.
“I can see why this is so popular,” you smiled, legs a little weak and your entire body feeling raw underneath your gown.
The Master ignored you.
The softness of the material was slightly tacky against your oily skin and you pulled it closer as you trailed behind the Master, enjoying a slight giddiness and feeling lightheaded, toes digging into the carpet as you took slow steps.
He seemed in a rush to get to the pool, swinging the door open, ignoring you as he let it swing closed after him.
The cloudy water of an oversized pool was pink tinted and sweetly aromatic, none of the chlorine smell you would expect on earth. You took in the fragrance with an indulgent sigh, refusing to give up your relaxation, even as a nagging feeling refused to leave you.
The Master was unhappy.
He waited for you to look away before quickly sliding into the water, chest-deep as he rested his elbows against the poolside behind him. He looked straight ahead as you disrobed and slid into the water beside him, the emptiness of the whole complex striking you yet again, as a sole employee passed whisper-quiet through the room.
The high vaulted ceiling was as simply designed as the rest of the complex, beautiful in its simplicity, and you looked up at it as you moved slowly through the warm water.
“Are you okay?” you asked the ceiling, hoping the Master might deign to answer instead.
He hummed, something affirmative and insincere. You let yourself float back, buoyant in the cloudy water, your toes breaking the water near the Master. He regarded you with a judgemental curl of his lip, before fixing his eyes on the wall opposite.
“Enjoying yourself?”
The Master didn’t reply, he just scoffed. You pouted, the water lapping at your face, paddling to stop yourself drifting into him.
“Just trying to have a conversation,” you grumbled.
Your words rolled off him like the sweat off his forehead, oil and water mixing on both of your skin, the heat of the room just a few degrees shy of stifling.
“Does this feel warmer to you, because you’re colder?”
He nodded. You rolled your eyes at him, finally standing in the water, crouching a little to keep your shoulders covered by the flat surface of it. You waded towards him, closing in on his personal space until the underwater bump of his leg against yours made you stop.
“Too hot?”
“Fine,” he ground out, rolling his head back towards the side of the pool.
You glimpsed the sweat and oil on his neck as you let your eyes drift over him, knowing he wouldn’t catch you while his gaze was trained on the ceiling.
“You’re in a bad mood.”
“I’m not.”
“Are.”
He gave an exasperated exhale, pinching his nose, and you watched the movement of his shoulders as he shifted his weight. You’d never seen so much bare skin, and you couldn’t help staring.
Sidling closer to him, you felt the brush of your leg against his once again, not recoiling. The Master tensed, and you ended up beside him by the pool.
“You are.”
All but whispering in his ear, you grinned as a shudder passed through him. The Master didn’t find it as funny, flopping his arm back beside him, wincing as it brushed your bare breast. He pulled away at lightspeed, shaky and sudden in his movements. You were getting to him.
He kept his lips tightly sealed, teeth clenched, making the muscles of his jaw bulge slightly beneath his beard.
A door opened, intended to be quiet but deafening in the tense room.
The Master snapped his eyes open at the noise, before moving away from you. He ducked his head underwater, rubbing product and oil from his face, before re-emerging with his fringe plastered to his face.
You laughed as he tried to brush the hair from his eyes, and that was the final straw.
“You’re insufferable sometimes,” he snapped.
The Master marched to the side of the pool, soaking his robe in his eagerness to cover himself as he climbed the steps, turning to face you for just long enough to reveal something unsettling in his glare.
“I’ll wait in the TARDIS. Don’t hurry.”
His curt words remained in the room longer than him, echoing as the door closed itself softly behind his indignantly retreating form.
“Grumpy,” you sighed to the vaulted ceiling, floating on your back, and wishing that high ceiling housed the consciousness of the TARDIS.
At least when you argued on the TARDIS, you knew the ship was (usually) on your side. Maybe her gentle hum would have alleviated your guilt.
You managed to float in the pool a little longer, swimming for a bit, trying to relax. It was no use. With a mournful last duck under the water, you emerged from the pool, not hurrying to cover yourself now you were alone.
What had the Master been so pissed off by, you wondered. Hadn’t he known what this place was like? His research was usually meticulous – in fact you suspected he tended towards places he had been before when planning days out for you. Was it the nakedness? The touch of a stranger, in that massage parlour? Or simply the strangeness of a place devoid of stress and terror and chaos.
You’d thought about your life with him a lot, of late. About how you couldn’t just keep seeing the darkness of the universe. Perhaps it was naïve, but you had hoped that his recent movements towards flirting with you might have been the start of a few nicer trips. Of something a bit… more with him.
But he was acting like the bastard you’d first known, no longer softer, kinder, towards you.
Somewhere the two of you had taken steps backwards. And now he was fighting with you at a spa, of all places.
You pulled the robe tighter around you, gave a passing member of staff a tight smile, as you found the cupboard door which led to the TARDIS.
Deep breath, you told yourself.
Stepping into a different dimension always felt a little disorientating, but the TARDIS was your home now. Welcoming in her warmer, yellow light as the door closed behind you and cut off the spa’s true white lights and pristine décor.
You saw the form of the Master the second you stepped inside, the first thing your eye was drawn to. He was in a different gown, a thicker, longer one. Dark purple like his coat, and just as modest in its coverage.
He was leaning heavily on the console, hunched over with his hair messily towel-dried and barely styled. He’d clearly made some attempt, then gotten frustrated.
“Sorry for being annoying earlier,” you tried to weakly joke.
The Master didn’t even turn to regard you, he just tensed his shoulders, leaning defensively closer to the ship’s console.
“You still reek of that oil,” he spat, “and hormones.”
Even across the room, you took a step back from him. You pulled self-consciously at the neck of your robe, hoping he couldn’t see how genuinely shaken you were.
You couldn’t reply, biting down a surge of emotion at his rejection and turning from him, inspecting a side table by the door. The TARDIS sent a wave of comfort through you, but it only made things harder.
Highlighted what her pilot wouldn’t give you.
After a few seconds of silence the Master whirled around, a furrow in his brow.
“Say something.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You had nothing to say to him.
He strode closer to you, and you stepped back again, closer to the doors.
“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, an uncertainty in your tone which made the Master take pause.
“Why?”
You didn’t know.
You didn’t know why you were meant to be sorry.
“For upsetting you. Whatever I did, I…”
You trailed off as the Master regarded you for a second, something approaching genuine conflict on his face as he fully took in your appearance. Wet hair, dressing gown tightly around your skin, shivering from the change in temperature… you wondered what he saw.
He sighed heavily.
“‘Whatever you did’?”
The words weren’t cruel. It was a question. But he could be terrifying, even in a bath robe. And you watched his eyes, looking for a trick or a spark of something more troubling.
He was searching your eyes too, looking for sincerity. For some kind of comfort.
“You took me there, and I really don’t know what I did… why you hated it so much. But… I’m guessing it was my fault.”
To your surprise, he pulled you into a gentle hug, cradling your head as he pulled you near to him. He wasn’t squeezing you, your bodies hardly touching. He was just… holding you close to him.
“I don’t like being touched,” he mumbled, his words over your shoulder, like they were trying to evade being heard.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into –”
“No I just… I don’t like you being touched. Either. It makes me nervous.”
“Nervous?” you echoed back to him.
You felt his fingers twitch against your head, tightening and loosening slightly.
“Maybe… I just… I couldn’t stand them touching you. Or seeing you. I wasn’t expecting that.”
In the silence which passed between you, you wondered if he was mulling over his own words. If he even suspected what you heard in them, the vivid green between the lines of what he’d said: jealousy.
“If there had been anyone else there, other guests, I would’ve made us leave. But you seemed happy and…”
He was struggling. Struggling to articulate himself, maybe even struggling to come to terms which his own motivations.
While bragging and flirting and banter came as easily as breathing to the time lord, sincerity was something much harder.
“You didn’t like being vulnerable?” you prompted, afraid to push him too much.
Something like an awkward, coughing laugh happened in the back of his throat – you only heard it because you were so close to him.
“I suppose you could say that.”
Snaking your arms around him, you pulled the Master closer, feeling your bodies properly together between thick material. He sighed indulgently, and you smiled, face hidden from him.
“You should have said. We could have left,” you tried to comfort him, “tell me, next time. We’ll just leave.”
He gave you the silent treatment again, though you suspected this time it was not unkind. He just genuinely didn’t know what to say.
You tried a different tact, returning to something more familiar.
“You really hate how I smell?” you teased.
He groaned, and you squeezed him just to make him groan more.
“You don’t smell like you.”
That was sweet, you conceded, rubbing his back in a few soft, gentle sweeps across the towelling of his dressing gown. He gulped.
“Did you enjoy your massage?” he asked suddenly, and edge to his words which made the question seem suspiciously loaded.
You tried not to let your wariness show, holding your posture perfectly still.
“I did. It was… intense. Good though. How about you?”
He gave a low laugh, and the knot in your stomach grew tighter, pulled taught by his sudden change in demeanour. He was holding you. In the way he might hold a hostage, not a friend. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, made you open your eyes and look across the TARDIS for any sign of danger.
You couldn’t know it, but you suspected that if you tried to walk away his tensed arms would stop you.
“My massage wasn’t nearly as satisfying, if the noises you made were anything to go by, love.”
The laugh you forced was barely loud enough to leave your lips. You felt the Master’s breath on your neck.
“Tell me what they did to you, love.”
“It was just… um… massage oil. And… they did my back. And rubbed that muscle I was complaining about, the one in my thigh. It feels a lot better now, actually.”
The Master stood silently, waiting. More, you could hear him thinking, more, love.
“They turned me over, massaged my front, and then they did the happy ending bit,” you laughed, awkwardness creeping into your tone where you tried so hard to suppress it.
“How did they make you feel?” he asked, an edge to his voice which barrelled straight past the boundaries of flirtation he had set before.
His voice was gravelly, seductive, each word painfully intentional as he whispered the syllables in your ear.
“Good,” you choked out, and he shook his head with a quiet, dark chuckle.
“No, darling, tell me what they made you feel. What did they do?”
Your mouth was dry, the TARDIS and your robe too hot, constricting against your sensitised skin.
You could feel yourself getting wetter, clenching, the faintest, most frustrating waves of pleasure in your clit. The Master was tense all over, and as you fidgeted, you felt him, hard against the front of your thigh.
“They hid you from me. Behind a barrier. Tell me what they did to you.”
In some deep part of your mind, a part which wasn’t clouded by lust and overwhelmed by the Master, pieces clicked into place. How he hated being exposed, but hated you being exposed more. His curtness, after you asked someone else to touch you. You damned him for being too proud to admit what he wanted, before you sought out pleasure elsewhere.
“They made me relaxed,” you began, “so relaxed. With these strong, gentle touches. All over. And then they turned me over, and I was so relaxed, I didn’t even notice how turned on I was getting.”
You paused, hoping the Master wanted to hear your words. That this was what he was asking for. His ragged breath told you enough. In his silence, he seemed to be begging for more. As you spoke, remembering the moment, you could feel your body responding to the memory. Growing wetter at saying it all out loud, at the knowledge the Master was desperately hanging off every word, his own arousal matching yours.
“When I was on my back, it was more oil. All over. Across my chest and my stomach and dripping between my legs and that was when I remembered what I had asked for.”
His grip on you tensed, his body thrumming with energy as it seemed to encircle you, and you forced yourself to conceal a smirk.
“The touches started on my stomach. They were teasing me, working me up. Then they moved to my nipples – I think your massage was done by then,” you pretended to think about it, and your tangent made him press his body against you insistently. You could feel that delicious jealousy, almost making him growl, as you paused.
“The oil was amazing. It smelled amazing and felt… so good. I don’t know if there was something in it, or if the masseuse was just that good,” you felt him shift again, privately delighting in how worked up he was getting.
“Then they had this toy thing. I never saw it, my eyes were closed, but… it was wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever felt better, I can’t even remember it I just…”
“Came.”
The Master’s hoarse voice felt like it was in your very head, and maybe it was, his telepathy sending a powerful jolt through you as you felt his arousal and jealousy and anger for just a second.
“You let them touch you… those aliens, those strangers –”
“You’re an alien too,” you reminded him, another rush of irritation rushing forwards from him.
“I am the best alien you’ve ever met, love, and you’d do well to remember that.”
He was so close to you, and your skin was so hot, you shivered at the snarl in his words.
“I was right there, and – ” he fumbled for words, and you smiled, pulling against his grip a little so he could see. His eyebrow raised in disapproval.
“You were right there, and what?” you challenged.
The Master shifted on his feet, his arms loosening around you, before he leant in again. His beard brushed the softened skin of your cheek, nuzzling, the slight scratch making you shudder from the rawness of it all. He inhaled deeply, pressing his nose into the swathe of skin beneath your ear, tutting with a condescension that sent a jolt of heat down your body.
“You still reek of sex. Even more now, darling. Do you want to go back? Cheat on me again?”
“I wasn’t aware we were in a relationship.”
With a bitter laugh, his hands found your ribs. Their grip was higher than they ought to be, brushing the underside of your breaths over the robe, squeezing just a tiny bit too tight. You reached for the belt of his robe, your own threat held between your fingers as you assessed the flimsiness of the knot he’d tied.
His fingers dug in tighter.
“Then I’d better make you aware,” his words came out as a threat, but you didn’t feel intimidated. The muscles in your abdomen clenched, and he noticed, fingers spreading wider on your ribs. “Can’t have you going elsewhere again.”
He was teasing, but you wondered if he had perceived what you did as cheating. His surliness made it seem that way.
“Think you can convince me?” you muttered, already far more focused on the roaming of his fingers, closer to the opening of your robe.
“Obviously.”
He stepped away, and you missed the contact already, searching his dark eyes. They were unfocused with lust. Flickering lazily and obviously to your lips. His robe had loosened slightly, a sliver of chest hair exposed below the smooth skin of his neck, and you didn’t bother to conceal the bite of your lip as you trailed your eyes down across his body.
“It really bothered you that much?”
In lieu of an answer, you found your head cradled in his hands, fingers haphazardly strewn across your face and head as he pulled you in, his lips against yours. When the Master kissed you, it was everything you’d imagined. His lips were intense and firm and bruising, but not rough. The fingers wrapped around your skull were firm, intense, but not painful. Not aggressive, not trying to hurt you, just demanding all of you.
The rest of the day melted away, the TARDIS’ presence disappeared, until all your senses could perceive was him. You could feel the wetness of his lips as he kissed you so desperately you thought he might sob, hear the sound of his breathing, the squeak of your shoes on the floor as he dragged you closer still to his body. You couldn’t smell anything his skin, the oil and the water from the spa mixed with sweat and the TARDIS’ laundry detergent and him.
Even the press of his fingers on your head made you close your eyes, focussing everything on the Master.
Your fingers fumbled to reach him, hold him somehow, finding the neck of his gown and pulling, blindly reaching to run your hands across his chest hair while you fought to open the gown further. Through where he was kissing you, you could feel his amusement, the smile which threatened to break your kiss as his hands slowly released their hold on your head.
With a slight tug at his chest hair you finally broke the kiss, pulling away as he hissed at the pull of your fingers across his
You thought you should probably say something, as the two of you stood panting, eyes glazed with want, but there were no words which could serve this moment.
Your fingers went back to the belt of his robe, tugging greedily until the knot was almost free. As you were about to undress him completely, his hands covered yours, holding them in place against the slight swell of his stomach.
“My room,” he demanded curtly, though the words came out stilted and strange as he fought to catch his breath.
“If its closest,” you agreed, happy to fluff his ego in exchange for that sincere, indulgent smile which spread across his face.
In a strangely sweet gesture, he reached for your hand, pulling you eagerly towards his room. You had never been in the space before, but you barely had time to appreciate it. The dark mahogany of the furniture and the scattered books, stolen goods, and components were completely ignored by the Master as he tugged you by the hands towards a four-poster, shoving blankets and books aside. When the bed was clear he pulled you bodily around in a wide circle, before shoving you back onto the bed with a boyish grin.
Unable to resist his glee, you let yourself flop back, the robe riding up and opening at the neck, much to the Master’s delight. He was quick to try and get the white fabric off you, one deft motion undoing the belt at your waist, pulling it open down the centre with a flourish that made you roll your eyes fondly at him.
You had expected a smartass comment, some kind of brag or joke, but instead he sank over your torso. Lips pressed to the gap between your breasts, he was astonishingly serious.
The room was silent aside from the sounds of your breathing, the gentle smack of his lips as he kissed his way down your body, and the sincerity of the moment took your breath away.
The Master wasn’t a man easily moved to reverence or seriousness, not by beautiful palaces or ornate temples or tragically burning civilisations. He always had a cruel remark, a joke.
His astonished silence meant more to you than words ever could.
When he reached the slope of your pubic bone, he looked up at you, hands flat on the bed either side of your hips.
“Can I fuck you?”
Your voice shuddered as you told him ‘yes’, a ‘please’ wrung from your lips as his tongue found your clit.
He looked up at you again through long eyelashes, seeming somehow, despite the context, surprised.
“Are you sure?”
“Please,” you repeated.
One hand reached down for his chin, stroking the line of his jaw in a mute reassurance. He smiled softly, lips pressed tightly together.
Your gentle touch on his jaw followed him as he moved up your body to kiss you again, gently, with all the veneration which seemed to have overcome him since the console room. His soft lips against yours made you groan, and he paused for a second, as though afraid you might suddenly be made of delicate porcelain and shatter from the gentlest pressure. You kissed him back harder and relished in the rumble of a moan from deep in his throat.
Then he was standing, eyes refusing to flicker from staring into yours, pulling your legs astride his hips and slipping his fingers into the wetness between your legs, fingers methodically stretching you for him.
“Good?” he asked, fingers toying at your entrance, refusing to find the nerves you wanted him to be playing with.
You nodded, trying to be patient.
“Good.”
With one last look of wonderment, he lined himself up and sank into you. You broke his eye contact, throwing your head back, whining at the stretch of him inside you. His hands reached to hold your legs, a thumb stroking across your thigh, before he gently started to move.
“Good?”
“Good.”
He thrust slowly, almost tentatively, as though trying to convince himself he wouldn’t hurt you. His pace gradually quickened, desperation growing on his face as pleasure built inside of you, until suddenly you were holding yourself in place on the mattress and the Master was grunting with the force of his hips meeting yours. Your feet dug into his back, supported by his hands holding your legs up, one arm thrown over your eyes as the other desperately tried to stop him from shunting you further up the bed.
All you feel was him, the desperation in his thrusts, the tightening of his hands on your thighs as you subconsciously clenched around him, your desperation mounting in tandem with his.
“Tell me,” you panted, a fistful of his sheets clenched painfully tight as he pounded into you.
“What?”
He was barely there, you realised, uncomprehending and stupid with pleasure. A groan ripped from his throat as you shifted your hips, his hands gripping your ass to keep you in place.
“Tell me you were jealous.”
“Furious,” he grunted.
“Because you were jealous,” you ground out, feeling the Master reach between your legs, distracting you with the roughness of his fingers across your swollen clit.
You arched your back, uncovering your eyes to glare up at his sweaty face, his eyes trained hungrily on your body. As he looked up to your face, neck and stomach clenching with the strain of keeping up the furious rhythm of his thrusts, you laughed at the grin spreading wide across his gritted teeth.
His fingers on your clit fumbled for a moment, before letting you reach down to take over, your own slippery fingers barely needing to work across your clit before you gasped at the break of pleasure washing over you, the Master’s hips stuttering, struggling to stave off his own orgasm.
As you came down, he slumped over you, fucking you more and more erratically until he was coming inside of you, fingers scrambling to grip onto your body any way he could, pulling you closer as he gasped for air. You couldn’t help watch, mouth hanging over and sweat mixing with his, marvelling as he finally softened and caught his breath on top of you.
“Since it seems to really matter to you,” he mumbled into your neck, “I’ll say it. I was jealous.”
You laughed. He was heavy on top of you, his chest crushing yours as he laughed too, face pressed to the crook of your neck. You could feel his teeth against the sensitive skin connecting to your shoulder, the wetness of his mouth as he laughed, exasperated and high from the hormones.
“You were jealous!” you teased breathlessly, the words making a barest attempt at being sing-song, before his lips pressed against your neck gently.
“I was jealous,” he replied soberly, his hair brushing at you as he fidgeted, taking his weight off you a little. His legs were intertwined with yours, and you could feel the contractions of his muscles as he moved. “So, unbelievably, jealous.”
Even as you dedicated his words – this moment – to memory, you could feel sleep pulling at you. You sorely needed showers, and food, and probably water, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“So we can’t go back?” you asked airily, if only to feel the rumble of a short, exasperated laugh in the Master’s chest.
“Absolutely not.”
“What if I want a massage?” you whined, pouting for show, then gasping as the Master teasingly pinched at your hip.
“Then you’ll have to ask me.”
You pinched his hip in retaliation, his thigh jostling yours as he fidgeted irritably.
“Hm, I can live with that. If you’re any good.”
He was halfway to sleep too, tugging a displaced blanket across the pair of you blindly with his free arm.
“I’m the best, darling. Obviously.”
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rosequartzwriting · 3 years
Text
Home for Christmas
Pairing: Eleventh Doctor X Fem!Reader
Description: You bring The Doctor to your family Christmas gathering, and everyone loves him.
Warnings: mentions of food
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Originally posted on Quotev for Christmas 2019 / 
Part of my Dec 2020 Holiday One Shots
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
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This was either a decision you were gonna praise yourself for, or one you would absolutely regret by the end of the night. You would have to find out in a bit. You tried to mentally prepare for the embarrassment you knew that was coming your way, knowing his personality so well. Sometimes you were never sure when that man was going to trip and fall and have to regenerate due to him choking on his bow tie.
It was the week of the Christmas holiday and your family was doing a gathering to eat together and exchange presents. One thing, you had been traveling with the Doctor a lot recently. You considered him your best friend. So when you mentioned that you had to take a break off your time and space travels to go to a Christmas family gathering, he begged to come. 
He said he wanted to meet your family, which was very sweet of him. But you knew deep down that one of the main reasons he wanted to tag along was for the food. You made the mistake of bringing him a piece of your mom's homemade apple pie once. He could not get over it. This thought and reoccurrence of the memory made you smile. You also knew that he just wanted to spend time with you, being his closest friend that had been by his side for a while now. 
The Tardis landed with that familiar whirling sound, signaling to you that you were home for Christmas. You walked down the hallway and into the console room, finishing up at loosening your curled hair and smoothing down the cute dress you wore for the occasion. Upon entering, you saw The Doctor was wearing his normal tweed jacket and bow tie, but was now sporting a red Santa hat. You should have known that he would pull that thing out of one of his closets. 
"We're here already?" You said, walking across the glass floor to come up to him. 
"Yes!" He shouted a little too enthusiastically, "The power of speedy time travel."
"Okay, listen. I'm letting you come and meet my family so don't embarrass me too much."
He scoffed, an offended look spread across his features, "What makes you think I would embarrass you?"
You smirked, "Because you’re a dork and a goof ball and the most clumsy person I have ever met."
"The universe is huge, I'm sure you'll find someone more clumsy than I am."
"Oh I seriously doubt that."
He huffed, "Okay, okay. I'll behave."
"Good," You smiled and grabbed him by the arm. "Come on lets go!"
You pulled him after you as you rushed out of the Tardis and into the cold outside. The ground was covered in white and snowflakes still lightly fell from the clouds. You wrapped your arms around yourself since you were not wearing a coat, but you were going to go inside soon so it did not matter. Looking up from the pathway, you saw your childhood home that was covered in colourful lights and beautiful bows and pine leaves. A smile spread across your face, you haven't been home in so long (being a time traveler makes you loose track of time quickly). 
The Doctor playfully held out his arm for you to take and you both made your way to the front door. Your pairs of footprints were left in the snow as you walked up the stone path, leaving your mark that you had brought a friend tonight. You eagerly jumped up the steps to the porch and instantly rung the doorbell. The Doctor came up beside you, looking at the big and excited smile on your face and grinned himself. He knew you were excited to see your family. And that made him excited too.
The door opened and your mother stood on the other side, instantly greeting you with a big hug. "How are you, honey?"
"I'm really good thanks!" You replied.
She pulled you in out of the cold, The Doctor following in behind you with a little awkwardness in his step. When you came in the smell hit you and you knew your mom had been busy working in the kitchen with her sisters. You happily introduced them, "Mom, this is The Doctor."
Your mother's smile grew even more, "Oh this is your friend! We have heard a lot about you, dear."
The Doctor gave you a look and you knew you had some explaining to do later. Your mom insisted on hugging him, he loved hugs he was like a giant teddy bear. He remarked to her that you were an amazing person to be around, which made you blush a little. 
By the looks of things you two were the last ones to arrive at the party, everyone was already here. Aunts and uncles, cousins, long time family friends. You got a little shiver of anxiety once you realized that you had to introduce The Doctor to everyone here. But you sucked it up and was ready to do so. 
 ~~~
 The night went on and everyone loved him. You often found him cracking jokes with some people and making them laugh. You figured it was his spunky and cheerful personality that was a big hit among your family members. He hung around by the snack table a lot too, trying all the little snacks that were laid out for everyone and was constantly asking you when dinner was going to be ready. But there was a question going around that never seemed to leave.
Is he your boyfriend?
Typical family. He was not your boyfriend. But something deep down inside of you wanted him to be. You could imagine it, he was exactly the type of person you saw yourself with to be honest. But you shook those thoughts away, knowing that was never going to happen. It was not going to work, as much as you wanted it to work. You tried not to think about it as the night went on.
Currently you were helping a little in the kitchen, decorating some of the finished dishes and making a few things presentable for the table. You were mostly doing this to get away from more questions from your older family members, but helping your mom and aunts was the good thing to do you told yourself. You had no idea where The Doctor was, probably telling a story to everyone in the living room. While you were cleaning up some scraps from peeled potatoes, your mom called out to you.
"(Y/N), can you please grab what is under that and put it on the table please."
She was addressing the food cover in the corner of one of the counter tops. Curiosity overcame you and you quickly made your way across the kitchen to lift the cover. Your eyes widened and you beamed with happiness, your mom knew you so well. It was her beautiful homemade apple pie. It was still warm too, the crust looking so flaky and the apples inside waiting to be tasted. You knew The Doctor would be all over this. You picked it up, the glass dish it was sitting in still radiating warmth from the oven. Bringing it into the dining room, you placed it on the table next to a plate of butter tarts and gingerbread cookies.
The glass door to the dining room burst open, scaring the life out of you, and something dashed under the large table and shifted the chairs. A little confused, you lifted up the tablecloth and looked for the source of the commotion. Your little cousin, one of the twins who were seven years old, was hiding underneath the table, hugging her knees to her chest.
You laughed, "What are you doing under there?"
"I'm hiding," She said, like it wasn't obvious. "We're playing hide and seek. My brother and The Doctor."
You were a little taken aback, but you should have known that he would eventually be playing with your younger cousins. You smiled at the thought. You then turned back to her, "Who's the seeker?"
"The Doctor," She answered simply.
Of course. 
"Where is he?"
"Upstairs."
"Thanks kid, stay quiet or he's gonna find you." You ruffled her hair before lowering the table cloth back down to hide her. You made your way out of the dinning room, through the kitchen and down the hallway to go up the staircase. You knew that goof was probably scrambling around to find the twins and you wanted to see it for yourself. 
When you made it to the top of the stairs, you could hear the sound of mumbling. You followed it down the hallway. Not surprised, you found just who you were looking for, hands covering his eyes and facing a wall. He was counting as the seeker does in the game, but he was counting a little to quickly like he was too impatient to keep waiting.
You stayed quiet and slowly walked towards him as he counted. He did not seem to notice. He was too focused and too excited as you could tell by the tone in his voice as he called out the numbers. It was his childish side coming out, full of energy and wonder. While he was occupied, you carefully stood behind him without making a single sound. His counting was nearing sixty, giving your cousins a whole minute to hide. 
"Ready or not, here I come!"
When he turned around, there was a dumb smile on his face before he let out a yelp causing it to disappear. He did not expect you to be right there and you just had to laugh. It was a genuine laugh, not like the ones you faked to your family members when they told you a lame joke or story earlier in the night. 
"Looks like you're having fun." You said, a little trace of that laugh still in your voice.
"I am!" He smiled back, seemingly forgetting all about the game of hide and seek he was playing with your cousins. "You're family is wonderful."
"They think you are too." You added, reaching up to fix his Santa had that had gone crooked when you gave him a jump scare. 
He perked up a little, "Really?"
"Of course, they're loving you."
He shrugged, "Well I am very lovable."
You chuckled and leaned against a nearby door frame.
"And they keep asking me about my name. Hard to not explain that I'm an 'alien' from space. Easier to just say I'm just a doctor."
Your eyes wandered upwards. Then they widened when they stopped on something. On top of the doorway was a little branch of mistletoe tapped to it. A deep blush began to crawl up your neck and onto your cheeks. You looked at The Doctor, even though you did not want to, but he was smiling a stupid grin and you knew he noticed too. Part of you wanted to slap that grin right off his face, but another part made you want to kiss it. The thought of kissing him. It sent a good shiver down your back. 
You found yourself sputtering, struggling to find something to say. But no words came out. But The Doctor was still looking at you. There was something in those soft green eyes. It was like his regularly wonder filled eyes were clouded with just the smallest hint of mischief. 
"We don't have to if you don't want to..." You stumbled, your tongue finally finding something to say.
He leaned against the other side of the doorway and gave you a look as his hands slipped in his pockets, "But what if I want to?"
Your blush grew deeper.
He seemed to notice and gave a light chuckle. Pushing himself off the doorway, he took a step forwards. Then another. It was like with each step, time slowed around you. He was so close you had to move your head up a little more to look at him due to his height. 
He lifted his hand and you became completely still. You expected it to rest on your cheek or lift your chin, but instead he used his thumb and wiped the corner of your mouth. Pulling his hand back and turning it around, you saw there was a little red sprinkle on the pad of his thumb. "Looks like someone has been at the cupcakes." You felt a little embarrassed. In the middle of a breathy, shy laugh he suddenly had you by the waist, pulling you in and smashing his lips onto yours.
The sweetness you tasted told you that he too had been at the cupcakes. The combination of the sweet taste and the warmth from his hands against you made you melt and you kissed him right back. In your head this felt like a dream, but the nerves dancing in electric currents between you both told you otherwise. He was gentle, holding you carefully like you were made of glass. 
When you both parted from the kiss, it felt like it was not long enough. Like something had been taken from you and you wanted it back right away. You found your hands resting on his shoulders, the two of you still so close you could still feel his warmth. 
He looked down at you, that dumb smile returning to his lips. Those beautiful lips. "I was wondering when I would get my chance to do that."
You were surprised. But you did not get a chance to ask about it because he started to kiss you again. You did not complain though, you nerves calming down now which allowed you to run a hand through his soft hair. You could have stayed like that forever. Just with him and not caring about anything else. 
You were glad you brought him with you to be home for Christmas.
188 notes · View notes
apples-r-rubbish · 3 years
Text
Feelings (11 x reader)
Eleventh Doctor x fem!Reader (feelings) Word Count: 2.9k AN: This post explains why I’ve been gone, bit of an early Christmas present, hope you all enjoy it -L Warnings: None Request?: Yes MASTERLIST
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It started off as little things. “So, whaddya think?” The Doctor asked, displaying a brand new bowtie that did not remotely match his outfit. It was neon green and you cringed slightly before laughing, “You are taking that thing off right now,” You said between fits of laughter.  “What? Why? I think it matches my eyes,” He laughed in response, breathless at you. You placed your cup of tea gently onto the console, and quickly and briefly apologised to the ship. You cautiously placed your hands on his chest and quickly untied the tie. “I’m asking her to hide this from you. You’re not having it,” 
“Please, I bought that at that market on Karzon 7,” he whined in response, missing the feeling on you next to him, your hands on him.
‘Yeah, no, definitely not. It’s not going anywhere near your person,” You said before slinking off down one of the corridors laughing to yourself. He missed you the second you were gone and he replayed the sound of you laughing in his head. Instinctively, the Doctor shook his world weary head, no, you were just a friend. 
It escalated. You were on some foriegn planet, the four of you. The Doctor, Amy, Rory and yourself. You had raced ahead wanting to see the lights in the city at night, along with the way it combined with the stars, Rory trailing . Amy caught the Doctor staring fondly at you “Oi, loverboy, just tell her how you feel, it’d be easier than staring at her like that,”
He shot her a look “I do not have feelings for her- look she’s human. I can’t fall in love with her, these things go badly. And I’m not in love with her, you’re both my best friends.” Amy frowned and rolled her eyes in response “All I’m saying is you look at her in ways you don’t look at me and Rory and we’re also your best friends,” 
It was his turn to frown, there was a pause, an uncomfortable silence. Amy continued “look the way I see it is, what’s the worst that could happen?” The conversation trailed off when they reached you and Rory. He stopped and looked at you, properly, loving staring at the light reflecting in your eyes. You asked him a question and he completely missed it “Huh? Oh sorry, I was just thinking, you said something?” You repeated your question, he wrapped his arm around you, smiled and rambled the answer to you, filling your ears with knowledge of the planet and its people as Amy and Rory shared a knowing look.
And it escalated again. You had visited a foriegn planet, the four of you. Spires of glass refracted a mixture of light and the hazy colour of the purple sky. “This is Laeturn, most things are made of glass here, delicate, be careful all of you,” The Doctor warned before gently extending his hand out to you, you accepted and smiled.  The people were lovely and accepting on the planet, one particular individual had taken a liking to you. Ko-ran he said his name was, his skin matching the gentle purple of the sky. He had slipped his arm around you at some point along the way and whispered to you about the history and traditions. The other three trailed behind, a permanent scowl fixed to the Doctors face, that would tense when Ko-ran laughed at your lack of knowledge or your attempts at pronunciation.  “You could just tell her right? You know? Do the very you thing of intervening and explaining something and she’ll give you that amazed look like she always does and then just tell her how you feel?” Rory said suddenly when you and Ko-ran were a fair distance ahead
“I don’t know what you mean, I’m just making sure she’s safe. There’s nothing wrong with being cautious,”
“Can you at least look like you’re having a good time then old man?” Amy countered
“I am having fun, I just don’t trust him, that's all just something I can’t place.”
He was right unfortunately, as he always was. Ko-ran and his people had believed you to be a lost monarch of some sort  and tried to instate you as royalty, and then threatened to kill your friends.  Eventually fighting had erupted amongst the people, Amy and Rory had managed to escape. The Doctor had managed to slip into one of the rooms you had been assigned, “Your highness, I think it’s time we left,” The Doctor smiled, wrapping his arms around you. You jumped at first not realising it was him and reached for the closest thing to you, an old walking stick, which you dropped almost immediately upon realising it was him. “Hey, it’s ok Amy and Rory are safe-” The Doctor was cut off by you hugging him tightly and sobbing lightly into his shirt “it’s ok, it’s ok. We’re getting you out.” The glass door shook lightly, guards banging against it upon hearing voices. Quickly, the sonic was used and the lock clicked further. He adjusted his neck and jacket slightly and jumped up onto the window ledge. I was a large opening and took up a proportion of the window. It towered well above his head. “I need you to trust me,” He said, extending his hand to you as he looked down from the ledge.
“You’re not suggesting we- It’s a huge drop, we’re in one of the spires,” You rambled panic taking over
“(Y/N), I need you to trust me. More than usual, please,” He urged. The light reflected beautifully in his eyes, his hair was messier than usual and the refined glass sent flecks of light washing over him. You nodded, stepped over to the ledge with him, his arms locked around you. “Look at me and nothing else. Do not look down,” A gut feeling of fear remained in your stomach, the door swung open, angry guards flooded the room. You felt the world tilt, and the wind rising, but the only thing you could focus on were his eyes. And in a moment, you lightly bumped against the TARDIS floor, on top of him giddy with adrenaline. You had barely registered what had happened, he stood up quickly, snapped his fingers and pushed a series of buttons on the console, getting you off the planet. Amy rushed over to you, wrapping her arms around you, making sure you were safe as the adrenaline wore off and you stared at the doctor as he continued on with the ship. Before he darted off down one of the many corridors presumably to fix something. 
“So, I’ll be here when you get back for a full debrief or if you need anything, or even if you need to get out of it although you shouldn’t need to call me. He’s a nice guy and like actually nice not you know-” Amy rambled, maternal instincts kicking into overdrive
“Amy I’ll be ok, it’s a first date, and we’ve been speaking for a little bit anyway, and you know him so I don’t understand why you’re worried,” You laughed fixing a few strands of your hair as you walked down the final steps to the console room. The Doctor noticed you immediately “So where are you off to? Anywhere exciting?” He asked, crossing his arms, admiring you, you opened your mouth to speak, Amy spoke for you, “I did tell you. I’ll explain later, did you at least drop us off where I asked, right time period?” Amy questioned clearly frustrated “Yes, yes I did, and there’s no need to be so bossy about it. See? 24th of September, 6:45, London,” He gestured towards the screen. 
“Right I best be off then,” You smiled heading towards the doors “Try not to collapse time and space whilst I’m gone.” You exited the ship and on to the slightly chilly London streets. 
“So where is she off to then?” He asked crossing his arms and leaning against the console
“She has a date, I set her up with someone I know. She was finding it hard to get over someone, so I figured it might be best.” The Doctor frowned in response involuntarily “So? Are they nice then? Or will we have to go and free her later from small talk about pets, music and parents?”
“He is actually. His name’s Dan, he works with Rory. They met at one of our house parties and he seems alright,”
“You have house parties? And I wasn’t invited?” 
“You were, you got the date wrong, and when you got it right you had to drag me and Rory off to deal with something, so we had to leave (Y/N) in charge, and you complained the whole time she wasn’t there,” It was Amy’s turn to frown “At least be happy for her, it’s the least you can do as her friend.” 
He opened his mouth for a witty response, beeping sounded from the console 
The date was going horribly. Dan was nothing like how he was at the party. You ended up excusing yourself to the bathroom and calling the TARDIS.
“Oh hey (Y/N), how's the date going?” Amy asked
“Very badly, can you come make excuses for me, he’s acting weird, like weirder than expected,”  You responded. You hung up the phone and returned to your table. You continued with awkward small talk, you sipped on your drink awkwardly “So want to come back to mine? I don’t live too far from here,” Dan suggested. You opened your mouth to excuse yourself, and the doors to the restaurant swung open and a panicked bowtie clad alien stepped through the doors. He rushed over to your table despite the many dirty looks he was receiving
“Amy told me you were here, something's happened, we need you to come home,” The Doctor said out of breath, he’d run there
“We’re in the middle of a date, if you don’t mind,” Dan hissed
“And I’m talking, if you don’t mind,” The timelord practically growled “Something’s come through on the channel and I think I’ve found something interesting and you need to be safe,” He extended his hand out to you. You smiled and grabbed it. “I think I need to go then I’m afraid,” You said to Dan before the Doctor pulled you out of the restaurant and you ran hand in hand through the freezing London streets. You turned a corner and stopped abruptly out of breath quietly giggling to each other.  There was a brief moment where your faces edged closer but you assumed that was just the adrenaline.  You felt a brief scratch on your shoulder, you had barely turned around when the Doctor shouted at you to duck, you did, the claw swinging narrowly over your head as the Doctor staggered back pulling you with him, the claw narrowly missing you both. He Stood up quickly, acting as a shield between the thing and you. 
“I knew it was you in the restaurant, I’ve dealt with your kind before, from Clom I believe, the energy signatures coming off you are unique,” The Doctor analysed. You finally saw it in the dim amber glow, it was a thing round with various faces sticking out at odd angles, you cursed loudly. One of them you recognized as Dan, he was speaking, mumbling vague panicked apologies. 
“Why are you here? We’ve done this before, look you can’t harvest my memories, even if you want to,” He frowned, a switch seemingly flicked inside of the Doctor he was the version in the restaurant again “To try to take my memories is one thing, to come into my friends home and lie to them is another, to try to kill the person I am in love with is too far,” there was a cracking noise, a watch had broken and the thing seemed to liquify a little 
“I swiped this from the restaurant, when you were busy objectifying her, better to keep track of these things don’t you think,” His voice was low and cold, the noise of the sonic buzzed loudly before the thing melted into the pavement, vanishing. The Doctor paused for a moment examining the pavement and slicking back his hair, the oncoming storm had settled once again.  
He turned to you warmth returning to his eyes and face “Are you ok? Anything broken? Anything missing?” 
“No, no I’m good i think, what the hell was that thing?” You asked shock very clearly still in your system
“Abzorbaloff, nasty things, absorb people and gain their memories. And I think that’s what he was planning with you if the date had gone slightly better,” He pressed his hand to your cheek in a further attempt to calm you down, a slight chuckle in his voice “At least this time I won’t have to make a paving slab with a face. C’mon back to the TARDIS,” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, whilst you contemplated his words, dizzy with adrenaline. There was a moment of silence, before you were able to take your first cautious step with wobbly legs, “There we go, see, c’mon (L/N),” you slipped slightly again and he caught you in his arms, the amber glow above his head illuminating him like an angel. He paused and laughed awkwardly, wrapping his around your waist and giving you time to steady yourself, his arm stayed there as you wandered back to the TARDIS shaking. 
At some point during the slow and shaky walk back, you asked him “What happened to Dan then could we have saved him?” 
“No we couldn't, he was echoes of what was left. His body was gone, he wouldn’t have lived a proper life, I can’t save everyone all the time, I’m sorry,” He frowned in the way the Doctor usually did, one that was world weary that seemed like it held back the weight of a thousand unsaid words
“I didn’t really know him, I feel bad. I know I couldn’t have prevented it, but I still feel awful,” You confessed
“You couldn’t have helped it, if it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else and I might not have been able to save them, at least I could save you,” There was a silence, and that followed and it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.  
You walked past the TARDIS allowing yourself some more time to calm down, at the Doctor’s suggestion. The Park was abandoned at this time. You had wandered into it together. You found a little stream and a small bridge and leant against it. The cold nipped at you and you shivered quietly against the railings. Silently the Doctor noticed and slipped his jacket off and gently wrapped it around you. It was warmer than you expected it to be and it felt oversized and heavy on you. 
“Are we going to talk about it?” You said suddenly breaking the silence, turning slightly and matching a similar pose to his. 
“What?” He mumbled in the response his words getting lost in the dark
“Everything. What you said earlier, in the alleyway ‘the person I love’, the fact you give daggers to any male that isn’t Rory getting anywhere near me, and the fact that Amy and Rory make it so painfully obvious,”  You said having quietly had enough “And the fact it feels like anytime we get anywhere closer to figuring out what the hell we’re doing something gets in the way or you run away and can’t cope with it,”
“I didn’t realise you’d noticed, and I didn’t know you were getting over someone, Amy had mentioned it to me earlier,” He whispered, his voice quiet, not wishing to do any more harm.
You inhaled sharply, and rubbed your hand slowly down your face whilst you carefully considered your next sentences, “That wasn’t her place to tell you that, I told her that in confidence.” You sighed “Of course I had noticed, it’s about as obvious as that bowtie is stupid. It was you, that person. And I knew regardless of what I had noticed and what you were thinking or doing, it would take ages before you admitted it yourself, nevermind me. I couldn’t keep pretending for my sake,” 
The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, and closed it, he considered everything for a brief second.
“Exactly, when you fall in love with a scared god it is not easy and I’ve learnt that.” You frowned “I don’t want to hear it. Let’s go back to the TARDIS,” you stood up straight
“What if I’ve fallen in love with you?” He responded
“Then, I guess I’ve fallen in love with you too,” You replied. There was another pause. A loud silence. You made eye contact, and you kissed. It was cautious and careful, neither of you willing to push it in case the other would regret their actions. The cold air brushed your faces, and you pulled away quietly.  He extended his hand to you, you took it gently and went back to the ship together, smiling like idiots.
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verobatto · 3 years
Text
Destiel Chronicles
Vol. CXXV
It was a love story from the very beginning
Loudly In Love
(14x10/14x11/14x12)
Hello my friends! After Purgatory we have a cute and dummy sweet Dean-bean in love with Castiel. As we'll see int this meta summary.
You can find the links to my metas from these episodes following this links: X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, and X.
There's something in my throat
At the beginning of episode 15x10 we can read a shop's named BERENS' KWICK TRAP.
This takes another symbology now, with the horrible ending of the show. In which we could say Berens settle a trap to the C*W and he gave us 15x18 Castiel's love confession anyway.
Before talking about Dean's mating tap dance, let's talk about Dean vomiting again. Because it's relevant again, due to the shitty ending and how C*W silenced him.
Throughout the whole season 15, we had vomits, gagging situations. And in this episode we had two important scenes related to this symbolism:
One was Dean literally vomiting, and the second was Dean datin: "I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY THROAT"
Gif credit @agusvedder
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What had Dean stuck in his throat? Maybe the ILY TOO to Castiel that never happened. But writers gave it it's relevance by writing it like this.
Maybe they were trying to day we will never have it.
They silenced him, for real.
Baby Castiel and Color Symbolism
I wrote this in one of my metas...
Baby Sam was dressed with a yellow ascot. Accurate. And Baby Castiel was dressed in blue. Accurate too.
Bess was dressed, and pay attention to this..., She was in pink (happiness) green (Dean) and light blue (purity)... She said to Dean that Cas was looking at him with love. Right? The happiness and purity in Dean was telling him Castiel looks at him with love in his eyes! Now... Dean said Cas baby kept looking at him weird. And Sam (who knows) said JUST LIKE CAS DOES.
And then Castiel's eyes glowed and Dean said... I think he has something for you to Bess (symbolically representing Dean's happiness and purity) GOSH IT WAS PERFECT!
This is something too cute, because finally, they talked about the Destiel eye-love-making and the fan-service with some SAMMY KNOWS.
Gifset credit @subbydean
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Another important reference was Garth. When he went to rescue the boys, Garth was playing Castiel's mirror. And when Garth breaks that lock (Just like Castiel will do in the incoming episode) But mostly because Dean's reaction to it was priceless!
DEAN: You're so strong! He's so strong!
This is, literally, what Dean thinks about Castiel everytime he's in BAMF mode.
Numbers
Just a brief travel through the repeated numbers in the narrative in this episode (you can find the extended version of this in the links I put in the top of this meta)
Basically, we had number 7, 5, 17 and 40 repeating in the dialogues and the visual narrative. Some examples of that are the following scenes...
The Beren' kwick trap had a poster naming "7 days per week", then this one...
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Dean eating 7 pieces of cheese.
Biblically talking, number 7 is the perfect number, represents God and knowledge. And it talks about Chuck then, knowing Chuck is writing this. But it also is what it means KNOWLEDGE.
Now, number 5...
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Also at Garth's house, the address said 75
In numerology talks about socialize, and self-knowledge in masculinity and sexuality... Hello Dean!
But number 5 also represents in Bible the grace God concedes to David to defeat Goliath, the giant, written on the first book of SAMUEL (yes, Samuel) chapter 17.
Gif credit @agusvedder
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17 means HOPES,it's what TFW keeps alive go defeat Chuck.
Now, number 40...
GARTH: Yeah, better than I ever thought I’d get. I mean, hunting – I figured I’d be dead before I’m 40. You know, go out young and pretty. But now I’ve got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out.
Putting to a side these had been also Dean's old thoughts... writers really got me here...
40 years old, but 40 is a common biblical number that talks about self-knowledge and growth. It talks about CHANGES. So so accurate with Dean and that caterpillar/butterfly wall in episode 15x04.
I really thought back then we will have the huge change in Dean through his love confession to Castiel. I mean, we had a change in his own way to see himself, thanks to Castiel. Let's keep that as a consolation prize.
An ABO fic plus Mating Dance
This episode had an ABO fic hudden as it also had the learning lesson about MATING FOR LIFE.
The visual narrative and the dialogues pointed at it.
Garth hugging g Dean as he said: YOU SMELL GOOD, remember Garth is a werewolf, and he was smelling Dean's pheromones because this episode happened after Purgatory, Dean is facing the knowledge about his romantic love for the angel, and it shows.
The swan's statues in one of the rooms in Garth house. Swans are birds that mate for life, and males swans can mate with another males for life. Hello Destiel. (Also, the room where these statues were placed was color BLUE)
The tap dancing and the suggestive lyrics of 'Let's Misbehave' was perfectly settled as a mating dancing I'm which Dean invited Castiel (the lamp) to Misbehave with him. Showing us that there's not just sweet and innocent love in Dean's heart but also a passionate fire and a desire to make love with him. That's what the song says, and that's why Garth mentioned colonoscopy, as a medical tool to health control, because cavities are related to Colon Cancer.
The wolf puppy is back
And following the same topic about ABO, the scene in which Jack is back with his family was similar (if not the same) as a wolf pack behavior documental.
Dean checks on Jack's eyes and immediately after that he checks on his pack mate, Castiel, to see if Jack is Jack. Beautiful
Gifset credit @thelordoftherings
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Bi!Dean and Tolstoy
There's more info in my links at the top, but let's see why Dean called himself "Tolstoy" in that bar in front of that greek goddess in episode 14x11.
Okay, we had the singer from 'Let's Misbehave' (Cole Porter) a queer man, and now we have Tolstoy, a bisexual man...
DEAN: I'm Tolstoy
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So much love
I will only speak about this scene:
Gif credit @agusvedder
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There's more analysis about the dialogue here related to the storyline about Chuck, Jack and TFW. But because these are the Destiel Chronicles, I know I have to talk about this particularly Destiel heart eyes scene.
Because Dean is loud, his eyes and his face, he is yelling how proud he feels about Castiel, but it also, the ways his eyes just lingered to him, full of love, it's perfect, and no one can tell me these are not two men in love.
Look at how Csstiel turns his face to him, with a small smile, trying to hide his joy for being praised by the man he loves and also for share this moment with him. And the feels are of an old married couple that still love each other so much.
I just wanted to finish this meta with this "Good Omens" like scene.
To Conclude:
Dean reaffirmed he is in love with Castiel, and he wants to spend his life with him, as a couple. He loves the angel romantically, and he also desires Castiel with passion.
We also had several confirmations of Bi!Dean and some fan service with Sammy knows.
Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one.
Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper
@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2002 @qanelyytha
@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777
If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.
If you wanna read the previous metas from this season, here you have the links:
Vol. CXXI, CXXII, CXXIII, CXXIV.
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kill-for-cookies · 3 years
Note
Whittaker! Mestre catches reader wearing / trying on some of his suits, they are comfortable, they smell like a master and they are warm, she loves to feel protected and hugged with them (since she thinks that master does not enjoy hugs, but she never asks). thank you thank you for the other cute request you made, I came here to ask for another one, of course if you don't mind.
😍😍😍🤩🤩
Thank you for this request and sorry for waiting so long. I really like your idea. That's so cute! And sure, I don't mind, your ideas are amazing! Love you💙
Suits you better
---------------------------------------------------
How great to spend an evening with a book in your hands! Diving in fascinating story, turning pages, lying on the most comfortable sofa in the console room. You were leaning on the armrest and bending your knees, on which laid a book.
It was some kind of novel about adventures in the future. You had enough adventures with the Master, but you wanted to know how normal people travelled. Not to say that you understood everything (after all, you are not from the 30th century), but it was pretty interesting.
Page 52... Page 53... Page 54... And bang! You jumped up on the couch at the deafening sound.It was like a thunder... No, it was just an angry Time Lady, ready to tear down and destroy everything in her path. Well, basically, it's the same thing... Who knows what is scarier? But one thing you knew for sure - at such moments it is better not to disturb her at all.
So you covered your face with the book, carefully peeking out from behind it and watching the blonde's actions. She beat the console loudly and with all her might, with hands and feet, causing the TARDIS to hum in displeasure. The Time Lady just rolled her eyes and turned away from the control panel in your direction, casting a glance at you. You immediately pretended that you were calmly reading a book all this time, not even paying attention to the loud sounds. Right now, the book was your only defense, your shield.
The Master moved in your direction and plopped down on the couch next to you. She was hunched over, her hands on her neck and a deep, irritated groan escaped her mouth. The sight of it made your heart ache in response and there was only one obsessive thought in your head that you should do something about it. To calm, to support, to help.
You drew your lower lip between your teeth and quietly closed the book, setting it down on the back of the couch. You took a sitting position, crossing your legs and slowly reached for her. Carefully, without any sudden movements, you put your small hands on her shoulders and began to gently knead them. You couldn't think of anything better to do than a massage. At least, it always helped you get rid of your anger and frustration.
Her shoulders were extremely tense, as if you were touching rocks. But over time, they began to slowly relax. Her eyebrows stopped being sharp daggers and a deep breath came out of her mouth. All the negative emotions and thoughts began to flow out of her body.
"I'm so sorry that the meeting went wrong" still working with your hands, you murmured softly, a little louder than a whisper, that you wouldn't spook the Master.
"You always know how to calm..." turning her face to you, the Time Lady faltered, her brow raised sharply as her gaze wandered over you. "Where did you get this?" she pointed to your clothes. The corner of her mouth turned up and her eyes glittered with mischief.
Your head sank down, looking at what you were wearing now. At first, you didn't understand what was wrong and then you realized. In days like this, when the Master wasn't around, you liked to wear her burgundy suit (which looked very good on her).
It was a hundred times better than all your clothes put together. It wasn't just about beauty, softness or comfort... More important was that it reminded you about this arrogant and dangerous Time Lady. In it, you felt like you were being huged by the Master.
Every day, every morning, your hand reached out to this suit somehow reflexively, without knowing why. Maybe it was because you felt protected, the Master would never let anyone hurt you with a finger. She was ready to destroy anyone if one hair fell from your head. Or maybe, well maybe, you're in love with her... But this is unlikely... At least, you tried to convince yourself.
"Um... Don't know... It was just in my closet..." rubbing your neck and shaking your head in denial, you made the most unperturbed face you were able to.
Although all your features were filled with embarrassment and the proof of this was your blushed cheeks. The Master just snorted at this and grinned. Her nose wrinkled, an eyebrow raised.
"Not just a thief, but also a liar..." you were greeted by a toothy smile.
The blonde moved closer and the air felt heavy. She smelled of coffee, orange and cinnamon. That wonderful, intoxicating smell filled your lungs, making all your senses a little foggy. It smelled exactly like the burgundy suit you were wearing.
"I don't know what you're talking about..." you argued, frowning and looking away. Slight, barely visible smile appeared on your face.
"You don't want to talk, I get it, love" Time Lady's voice sank lower to a velvety, honey-soft tone.
Now the two of you were so close that your breath came together as if you were one person. Your eyes fixed on hers. It was just one of those moments when something important was about to happen...
You put your warm hands on blonde's slightly cold ones and used that as leverage to pull yourself closer. You quickly and sharply pressed your lips to hers. Let traces of her blood-red lipstick be. It was too wonderful than think about such trifles.
You didn't want to be separated from the Time Lady. It was probably the best thing that was ever happened to you. But your lungs were running out of oxygen, so you had to do it, disconnect from her.
Your chest rose high and often, and the warmth spread through it. Maybe it melted your heart... You looked lovingly into her beautiful hazel eyes, filled with softness, care and love.
And how could you not be in love with the Master in such amazing, but at the same time rare moments? There was only one possible answer to this question - no. She was always arrogant, brilliant and exceptional, but you loved her the most in such moments.
"Can I ask you a favor?" you decided to take advantage of such a good opportunity. You wanted to ask her something you never did. Besides, the kiss and the suit you were wearing gave you an extra courage.
"I don't know, you did commit a crime after all..." the blonde just shrugged, her lower lip pushed forward and soon a cocky half-smile appeared on her face. Well, two can play the game...
"Hey! I won't give you a massage next time" you protested. You crossed your arms over your chest and turned head away, looking at her sideways. Your eyes waited for the Time Lady's next move.
"Let's not be so touchy, love. I didn't say I didn't forgive you. So what do you want?" at her words, you turned back to her. "Hug me please" you asked, making pleading eyes, even your lips trembled a little. In short, your face was contorted with a plaintive expression, so the Master certainly couldn't refuse you.
"You know it doesn't work on me, right?" her grin widened. The blonde carefully studied your reaction, which almost immediately followed. You opened your mouth, trying to find words, but were interrupted. "I think, that could be arranged" your pupils were round and you blinked quickly, reflexively in surprise.
"So you are... Do you agree?" you barely found the strength to ask the Time Lady again.
"Hurry up before I change my mind" the Master only rolled her eyes at your reaction, but smiled.
You didn't waste a second - your arms reached out to her, wrapped around her and you finally hugged the Master, which you didn't really hope would ever happen in your life. In her turn, the blonde didn't expect such quick motion, so her hands hung at the sides of her body.
"Actually, this is the moment when you should hug back" you pointed out. At your words, her hands slowly went up. The blonde gently and lightly hugged you. Hugs weren't clearly on her daily list. "That's better..."
You immediately melted into this embrace, pressing against the curve of her neck. It was so nice. No, that's not the word... Protected. A real hug with the Master was better than being in her suit... Well, a little better. Just a little bit. The only thing you wanted right now was for it to last forever. And each of you wanted it. Only the Master's voice broke this magnificent moment:
"Wear this suit more often. It suits you better."
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xenteaart · 4 years
Text
Design Flaw
Summary: “Today wasn't a good day. Your body was betraying you and you couldn't feel more useless and weak, especially knowing how annoyed the Master would always get at the inconvenience that human biology tended to cause.”
Pairing: Dhawan!Master x Reader
TW: Descriptions of pain ??? but nothing graphic, it’s basically pure fluff 
GIF: @moon-in-daylight (i think?? correct me if i’m wrong)
Note: Okay so this is my first ever fic and it’s pretty personal as well because i’ve been struggling with health and feeling powerless for a while now and I can’t really find any fics regarding that so I decided to write one myself lmao. Also English isn’t my first language so be gentle ( but also feel free to give any feedback coz I wanna improoove). Hope u enjoy!  Big big thanks to @queerconfusionthings and @ambientstars for being my betas I love you <3
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The TARDIS lights went from familiar but mildly aggressive crimson to a warm orange which made it feel a little more welcoming than usual. You had a pretty good relationship with the ship all things considered - she would always lead you to the rooms you needed most and sometimes even hide you away from the Master if you needed some time to be on your own. She knew you were thankful for her looking after you, this time being no exception. Yes, she, because you could never call the TARDIS it after all she'd done for you. A rather weird dynamic to have, especially with something seemingly inanimate.
Today wasn't a good day. Your body was betraying you and you couldn't feel more useless and weak, especially knowing how annoyed the Master would always get at the inconvenience that human biology tended to cause. Travelling with him made you realize that he was, in fact, right, and a human body was way too flawed not to be some kind of cruel joke of a creation. Sometimes you wondered how you humans even made it to 70-80 years old, your lives so ridiculously fragile.
“Go away,” you said moodily, curled up on the sofa in the console room, that exact sofa you had made the Master put there since after days spent on trips and adventures you often couldn't even make it to your bedroom.
You were feeling so ill, your thinking process so heavily disrupted by pain and discomfort, you didn't even think twice about what being rude to the Master could result in. Honestly, you didn't even care and right now you would gladly take some verbal abuse because you felt like you deserved it. Sure, you didn't choose to be born human with a chronic illness but it still felt like a failure on your part. 
“Watch your tone, love, I might be tolerating it for now but don't you ever think it became acceptable,” he replied, his voice harsh but his facial expression so much softer. He knelt beside the sofa as he looked over you, assessing the damage and rolling up his sleeves while rather loudly thinking about something. You knew his thinking face all too well.
Sure, he could take you to the most advanced hospital in the universe but at the end of the day - they couldn't "fix" you exactly. There was medication to relieve the symptoms but they couldn't really change your way of being completely, so you were now stuck on the TARDIS with another flare-up, trying to breathe through the pain and waiting for your meds to kick in. You used to think that advanced medicine would allow you to swallow one pill and all of your problems would disappear at the snap of your fingers, but in reality, it was a lot more boring and disappointing. The wonderfulness of new medication was merely the fact that the risk of side effects was close to zero. But it was still no magic pill to suddenly turn you into a super human.
“Why wasn't I born a TimeLord,” you moaned, closing your eyes shut as another wave of abdominal cramps and nausea washed over you. You couldn't even tell what was hurting at this point - you felt like one big miserable mess of ache and fatigue.
The Master looked at you suspiciously.
“What, you think TimeLords can't get sick?” he chuckled quietly as if you were amusing him but you could sense he was just trying to distract you. 
“I got this Aaxogon plague once, knocked me out for a few months. Nasty stuff, blocks our ability to regenerate so we have to actually live through the whole thing until it fades away,” he continued, so obviously attempting to get yourself out of your head.
“Yeah but not like that,” you replied, interrupting him mid-sentence, your tone giving away your growing anger and frustration, “you don't get sick like that. Besides, you get to live longer, see more, learn more... And, please, don't tell me it's a curse as much as it's a gift, I'm aware of that and I still wish I could have it.”
He went silent for a whole minute, genuinely surprised at the way you saw things. 
Most humans he'd encountered were a lot more proud of their nature, taking actual offense of his degrading comments regarding the human race. You didn't. You agreed with them, simply acknowledging the facts. It wasn't personal, it was basically science, and you were an inferior being.
“Don't compare us, dear,” he finally uttered, gently covering your hand with his own and bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing over them lightly. 
The Master's beard scratched against your skin, making it slightly irritated, but it was nice to feel something other than what you were feeling, your senses overwhelmed with your body's misbehavior.
“I don't think any less of you. It is quite infuriating how dependent you all are on food and sleep and, in your case, more rest and medication, and I do think it's a huge design flaw but I took you in for your mind, not for your body.” 
You were grateful he wasn't trying to make you feel better by lying and sugar-coating things. Not that he would ever do that for you anyways, it just wasn't him. A weak smile painted over your features.
“Now be a good girl for me and have some sleep, will you?” he added, his voice noticeably deeper and lower. Oh, you knew what he was doing. He was proving you were still desirable despite your vulnerability. Something in your chest sank, your heart probably. Ouch.
He caressed your jawline with the tips of his fingers as he contemplated whether to move up to your temples, and you were quick enough to notice his hesitation.
“A-uh, I have to give my consent first, remember? Rule number 4,” you said, a tiny bit smug and playful.
“Always so good at remembering rules, are we?” he replied with an equally obnoxious and mischievous grin. You gave him no answer and stared into his eyes, his chocolate-y orbs shamelessly mesmerizing you into obedience. You were too exhausted to put up a fight, or maybe you just wanted to think it was your excuse this time.
“Yeah, okay, fine, do the thing, I consent,” you rolled your eyes and winced very soon after, gritting your teeth at another flash of pain, “but promise you're gonna be here when I wake up.”
“Promise.”
Something wet and warm landed on your cheek and you realized he was kissing you goodnight. The familiar feeling of his mind against yours was slowly taking over and you gave in willingly, allowing him to envelope you with his burning but caring consciousness.
“Being a TimeLord is not as great as it might seem. Especially when you’re the last of them,” he whispered as his telepathy was gently putting you to sleep. 
You were already drifting away when you heard him, and with an enormous amount of effort you managed to wrap your hand around his index finger, that being a wordless gesture of support and empathy. The Master knew you would say something if you weren’t already passing out, and looked at your now childishly intertwined hands with a hint of amusement and gratitude.  
“My silly human” - echoed in your mind before you completely let go of your consciousness.
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Text
Human Custom
AN: So this fic started as an anon that just kept getting longer and became it’s own fic. Which is why I am not yet done answering anons. The idea was so soft and let me tell you anon, I spent many nights just rereading this prompt and thinking it was so very soft. I’m not too happy with how the Master sounds in this as it is more from his POV and I don’t have a great grasp on Dhawan!Master’s POV but I tried my best!
Word Count: 1773
Description: Written based off of this anon
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Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries
The Master huffed and rolled his eyes at all of the gaudy Valentine's gifts still on display in the store. He honestly believed they should just throw them all out the second it was the 15th. It was bad enough to have to see them before the “most romantic day of the year”. He couldn’t believe that he had to subject himself to this just because you had forgotten something while doing the shopping. Of course, you couldn’t just do without. So someone had to go get what you forgot. Lucky him.
To be fair he probably shouldn’t have volunteered to go for you so you didn’t have to feel embarrassed about the shop staff seeing you come back for something. You had been absolutely adorable when you pressed your face into his chest bemoaning your forgetfulness. It had made him forget how much he hated going shopping like this on Earth. It reminded him too much of the 77 years he had been trapped without a TARDIS. Which always left him in a touchy, annoyed mood.
The two teen boys blocking his way past as they slowly walked down the aisle were pissing him off too. If it wouldn’t cause even more trouble for him he would just TCE them both and be done with it. He took a deep breath. He would just push past them soon and continue on his way. It was fine. He would get what you had forgotten and you would jokingly call him "your hero". Giving him a soft, loving kiss for his troubles. It would be worth the annoyances to make you happy.
The Master had no choice but to listen to the two kid's conversation with the volume they were talking at. Wonderful.
“Look man, it’s complete bullshit that she didn’t tell you she was moving until yesterday!”
“She just wanted us to have a normal date before telling me that we would be going long-distance okay?”
The Master wanted to roll his eyes so hard that they fell out of his skull. He did not want to be stuck listening to lower lifeforms and their romantic struggles. He settled instead for slowly dragging his hand down his face. 
"I'm just gonna get her one of those stereotypical bears holding a heart stuffed animals to give her before she moves. It's on sale so it's not going to cost me much if she does end up breaking up with me."
"Fair enough, man. It's your money."
Stereotypical bear? Was this some customary holiday gift or something? The Master had to admit he was curious.
Then he saw them. Dozens of bears of different sizes and colors. Most of which were holding a heart-shaped pillow with the words "I love you" on it. He wanted to be disgusted by them but then the image of you clutching and cuddling a bear after falling asleep while waiting for him to join you entered his thoughts. You would probably love it, and it would be absolutely precious seeing you cuddling a stuffed animal he got for you. He needed to get one for you now. The image would consume his mind until he gave in to it.
He examined a few of them trying to decide which one would be the least insufferable to buy and carry back to you. They all seemed too human of a gift. He couldn't see himself handing you one of these. Besides none of them were the size he imagined. The Master wanted it to be half the size of you, something you could curl around comfortably. Something inhumanly soft for you to smush your face into as he teased you for your bed head and sleepy expression after waking up.
This store may be too human but humans spread across the universe in the future taking their customs and holidays with them. It shouldn't be too hard to find something that fit what he pictured. Something big, soft, and decidedly not human-like. And none of that cliche "I love you" on a heart stuff. He could get something much more profound for you.
The Master rushed back towards the TARDIS. He knew just where to go to get what he wanted. Brushing past you he began to take off immediately. 
"Did you get the milk?” You asked in bewilderment at his hasty actions.
“They were out.”
Well fuck. He forgot that there had been a reason he was in that store in the first place. Perhaps he shouldn't have rushed off in such a hurry.
“They were out of milk,” your tone was completely flat.
You definitely didn’t believe his lie. Why didn’t he think of a believable lie instead of just saying the first thing he thought of?
“Okay, fine! I thought of something that I need to buy before I got to the milk. Two birds, one stone situation. I can get both the milk and what I need from the store I am going to.”
You wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head against his body. His body relaxing as you held onto him. He loved you so much for being so understanding.
"Okay, Master. As long as we do get some milk. We really need some so I can bake and you can make us hot chocolate. I'm still jealous that you make hot chocolate so much better than I do. One day I'll learn your secret."
Closing his eyes for just a moment the Master enjoyed the comfort of your embrace. Once the TARDIS landed he reluctantly left your arms. He had a plan to accomplish.
"I'll be back. And this time I won't forget to grab some milk."
"Oooh, you did forget. You admit it!"
He playfully booped your nose. Anyone other than you talking to him like that wouldn't survive the next minute. When you did it, it was fine. In fact, it was encouraged.  He loved it when you were playful with him. He wanted you to have no fear of him, to treat him like an ordinary person. Even if he couldn't be any further from ordinary.
"Well if someone else hadn't forgotten in the first place we wouldn't be in this position."
You covered your face with your hands as you flusteredly cried out, "Nooo, don't remind me!" with a laugh. You were too adorable to handle. He would never get over it. If he ever lost you somewhere - and he would never dare lose you- he could just describe you as adorable and you would be quickly found.
His errand didn’t take long at all, especially when he chose to have the inhuman stuffed animal sent to the TARDIS by teleportation. In no time at all, he was back by your side smiling to himself as he presented you with the milk. He had been successful in getting just the right stuffed animal for you. You would be wonderfully surprised.
"Did you get what you needed?"
You were soft in your curiosity. Not pushing too much for an answer but expressing your interest in what he did.
"Yes. It should be here shortly. I asked for it to be packaged and sent so I didn't have to carry it and the milk."
"I'll be back soon then. I'm just going to go put this away before I manage to forget."
Perfect. By the time you got back to the console room, the box should be here for you to open. He watched you leave. The moment you were gone he lowered the TARDIS shields so that the gift could be delivered. Just as he put the shields back up you walked back in.
"What did you need to get? The box is huge!"
"Open it and find out."
You gave him a wary look as if you feared that he was playing a prank on you. The Master didn't let it bother him, your reaction should more than makeup for your minor distrust. It’s not as if it wasn’t justified. He had played pranks on you this way before. The joyous laughter and smile on your face when you pulled the stuffed animal out of the box sped his hearts up. It was some weird combination of a bunch of standard anatomy of different animal species found in the universe. With fins, tentacles, and antenna. Half the size of you, you could just barely bring your arms completely around it. He had made sure that it was as soft as possible, softer than any other stuffed animal in the universe.
Gasping, you moaned out into the stuffed animal as you smushed your face into it. "Master it's so soft!"
You pranced over to him, your face still pressed into the stuffed animal. You were ever more precious and adorable than he had imagined you would be.
You popped your head out from behind the stuffed animal to ask him curiously, " what does it say, Master?".
He didn't want to admit what it said. It almost felt embarrassing to say.
"What? Don't you know?"
"I can guess but you know that I can't read it! The TARDIS likes teasing me too much."
You playfully pouted at the TARDIS by looking up towards the ceiling. In truth, the reason the TARDIS rarely translated for you within her walls was to ensure the two of you spent time together. The Master never tried to hide how much he adored holding you in his lap as he read to you for hours. So his TARDIS created opportunities for him but refusing to translate while you were in the TARDIS if not necessary. He sighed. He might as well tell you before you assumed it was something as generic as "I love you" written on the heart.
"It says, you are my universe."
He messed up. You had tears starting to form in your eyes. What had he done? This was a terrible idea. His hands moved to cradle your face, prepared to wipe away any tears.
"Oh no, don't cry! Shh, shh , sh. It's okay."
"Sorry, I just- this is just really sweet and I'm a bit overwhelmed. M' not sad if that's what you're worried about Master."
Shifting the stuffed animal to one side you moved in close to hug him. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Your lips as sweet and soft as they always were. He could never tire of the sensation of your lips against each other.
"I love you, Master."
It wasn't the first time you had said it. But his heart swelled all the same as this time he held you close in his arms.
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heytherejulietx · 2 years
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six+ sentence sunday
from the definitely not sad doctor who fic i’m writing 👀 if you’d like to be tagged when the fic is posted please fill in my tag list form!
The doorbell rang as she descended the stairs. Once, twice, three times, all until she opened up the door, and stood face to face with him. The sight of him for a moment shocked her, but why would it shock her? He was still the same floppy-haired bow-tie clad idiot that she had been travelling with. But seeing him made her chest swell with a feeling like it had been years since they were together, like she was expecting somebody else. But that was absurd, nothing was wrong. Even still, a huge grin broke out on her face and she practically flung herself into his already open arms, giggling into his shoulder when she was lifted slightly off the ground.
She had been travelling with him on and off for so long, ever since the striped suit and sandshoes, but it was different now. He had regenerated a good while ago into a younger, sillier, and generally nicer man. It was setting her up to fail, because how was she not going to fall in love with him? Every time she saw him she fell deeper and deeper, and whilst she knew that realistically it could never work because of who they were, she couldn’t help it.
The orange glow from the TARDIS was almost heavenly as she stepped inside, a bright smile on her face. Once again, she felt like she hadn’t been there in so long, but that couldn’t be right. She saw The Doctor all the time, nothing was wrong. The ship whirred as she stepped in and she had to smile as she hung her dressing gown over the railing. It always felt like home inside the blue box.
“Where to?” The Doctor was already bouncing around the console and she grinned as she stepped up beside him, careful not to press any buttons as she leaned against it. She had accidentally almost pressed a huge purple button once, and she had to endure twenty minutes of lecturing about how it would “Completely blow up most rooms in the TARDIS!”. Sometimes she wondered why he had such buttons on the ship in the first place. “Anywhere you want, all of time and space.” It always made her smile when he said that.
The feeling of surprise hadn’t left her gut, the feeling like she hadn’t been there in years, so she simply shrugged as she smiled widely at him. “I don’t know, anywhere you want.”
“You humans always do that,” At his complaint she had to press her lips together in order to not laugh. “Never answering questions. Quite frankly, it is very annoying…”
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riversofmars · 3 years
Note
Prompt - - Post Library River coming to live in the Tardis with 13 and finding everything a complete mess or things just not done properly. (bonus if you do something about the waste tanks on deck 7)
Thank you for a brilliant prompt, hope you like it! <3
Word count: 1500
Rating: G
Call For Help
“Ah there you are, hello Swee… what the…“ River stopped mid-sentence as she closed the door behind herself and looked around the TARDIS. The TARDIS gave an unhappy wheeze and whimper and River was utterly dumbfounded.
“Right, okay, I see why you called.“ River gave the TARDIS a reassuring smile as she stepped over a large pile of tools. The console room was a mess, there was stuff everywhere. Tools, equipment, books, sheets of paper, blueprints, charts, messy notes… “Has she gone full on mad scientist now?“ River asked as she picked up some notes. The TARDIS just hummed helplessly. “Where is she?“
“How did you get in here?“ A voice sounded at the far end of the control room and River looked up.
“Oh, hello there.“ She greeted Yaz with a smile. “Door was open.“
“You can’t just walk inside the TARDIS.“ Yaz stated, unsure what to make of this mystery woman.
“Fair enough, she let me in, let’s say it was a call for help… looks like I got here just in time.“ River gestured to the mess all around.
“The TARDIS called you?“ Yaz frowned. She had never seen the woman before but so far, she didn’t appear dangerous.
“So where’s the Doctor hiding away?“ River asked with a kind smile, trying to reassure her. She realised that this was probably the first time Yaz was meeting her. Life as a time traveller was complicated, she couldn’t be sure. “Is she okay? Because this doesn’t inspire confidence… what happened?“
Yaz hesitated for a moment. It was obvious that this woman knew the Doctor and that the concern in her voice was genuine. The TARDIS’s encouraging humming convinced her to answer at last:
“Well, some of our friends decided to stay back on Earth and stopped travelling with us… she didn’t take it too well. I think it reminded her of the people she’d lost before now… But she keeps saying, not all those endings were final and there are some things she could fix, given time… so…“
“She threw herself into all sorts of research trying to undo past mistakes?“ River concluded and the TARDIS wheezed with confirmation too.
“I guess… We were meant to go travelling but she got sidetracked…“ Yaz help up the mop and bucket she was carrying. “Now the only travelling I’m doing is down to Deck 7 to clean up…“
“Waste tanks?“ River asked with a compassionate smile. “She always forgets those are down there…“
“Got emptied during some experiment or other… how do you know that’s what’s on Deck 7?“ Yaz frowned, feeling like she needed more information about her.
“The TARDIS and I go way back.“ River answered with a chuckle.
“So you’re a friend of the Doctor’s?“ Yaz confirmed.
“You could say that.“ River smiled. “Like I said, the TARDIS called for help, so here I am.“
“Are you going to get her out of her funk?“ Yaz asked hopefully. The Doctor had been very hard work the past few weeks.
“I shall certainly try my best.“ River confirmed. “Care to show me where she’s hiding?“
“This way.“ Yaz smiled and gestured for her to follow.
River followed Yaz and even the corridors along the way were messy. Things had been dropped, left for later or simply forgotten about.
“Doctor?“ Yaz called out as she opened the door to what River knew to be one of the many on-board laboratories.
“Not now, Yaz, really critical phase here, if I don’t get this to the right frequency it won’t work against the Vashta Nerada and you and me will be very sad looking skeletons.“ The Doctor retorted working some sort of huge transmitter.
“She keeping going on about this, really incredibly cheerful subject.“ Yaz sighed to River who just shook her head in disbelief at the state she was finding the Doctor in. The lab was even worse than the rest of the TARDIS. Equipment and books were stacked high, left over and forgotten about food and drinks was scattered everywhere. There were about five open packets of custard creams and amongst it all, the Doctor was wearing huge goggles to complete the messy scientist look. It seemed as though she hadn’t left this room in days.
“And once you get past the Vashta Nerada, what are you going to do then?“ River called out but the Doctor didn’t look up, she didn’t even seem to register someone else apart from Yaz being there.
“Well, there are several options, android body, clone, download to my phone for the time being if anything else fails.“ The Doctor replied with a shrug. “Damnit!“ She exclaimed when the transmitter she was working on suddenly started sparking and shut itself down.
“Or you could arrive a bit earlier than planned, before the Vashta Nerade swarm the place and destroy the body. You know Timelords, even ones that don’t have any regenerations left, take forever to die…“ River suggested watching in amusement how the Doctor still hadn’t realised she was there.
“My regenerative energy, theoretically my supply could be limitless…“ Her suggestion seemed to have reached the Doctor as she seemed to be contemplating it. “If she’s not dead yet, I could give some to her and… Yaz, that’s brilliant!“ The Doctor exclaimed as the penny dropped.
“Wasn’t actually me that suggested that…“ Yaz replied and River chuckled:
“You’ll have to forgive her, she’s probably not slept in days.“
“More like weeks…“ Yaz sighed.
“What…“ The Doctor turned towards them and took her goggles of, staring at them in shock.
“Yes, dear, I’m not a figment of your imagination. The TARDIS is rather concerned about you and I can see why…“ River smirked and gave her a little wave. “Love what you’ve done with the place…“ She looked around shaking her head at the mess in front of her.
“River…“ The Doctor spoke softly, not knowing whether to believe her eyes or not.
“Hang on, you’re River? River is who she’s trying to save!“ Yaz’s head whipped around as it occurred to her that she never bothered to ask for her name.
“It would appear so.“ River grinned.
“River, how are you here.“ The Doctor stepped closer and nearly fell over a pile of plates.
“Spoilers.“ River chuckled with a wink. “The TARDIS thought you might need a bit of cheering up and to show you that, yes, you will figure this out.“
“You just told me how to save you!“ The Doctor exclaimed as she skipped over the last obstacle and flung herself at River. River laughed and hugged her tightly.
“Did I?“ She feigned innocent. “I’m pretty sure you just figured that out for yourself. Secret to a successful marriage, Yaz. You put ideas in your spouse’s head and make them think they were their ideas all along, works every time.“ She winked at the young girl next to her as she let go of her wife.
“You’re… married?“ Yaz asked in surprise. The Doctor hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with information about the mystery woman she was so keen to save.
“Not even death can do us apart.“ River smiled and the Doctor tried her best to cover up the effect River’s sudden appearance was having on her. With a little sniff, she quickly wiped her face, trying to compose herself.
“You let your wife die, Doctor?“ Yaz crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned at the Doctor accusingly.
“I didn’t know she was my wife at the time…“ The Doctor replied averting her eyes in embarrassment. “And I’m trying to fix it, okay?“
“Yes and maybe you should also try tidying up around yourself every now and again, hm?“ River suggested playfully. “Eventually the TARDIS will kick you out… Like the last time you exploded inside her, she tipped you out.“
“She told you about that?“ The Doctor exclaimed.
“She tells me everything.“ River shrugged.
“Who’s side are you on?“ The Doctor called into the laboratory.
The TARDIS gave a wheeze and a hum that made River grin and the Doctor groan. Yaz laughed, the answer was pretty obvious without her being able to understand her like the other two seemed to.
“Get tidying, Doctor.“ River chuckled and hooked her arm around Yaz’s. “Let’s have afternoon tea, Yaz, get to know each other. You come join us when you’re done, Doctor!“ She waved goodbye to her wife and set off down the corridor towards the kitchen with Yaz.
“Do I not even get a kiss?“ The Doctor called after them.
“Not until you’ve tidied up your mess.“ River called back and Yaz laughed. She was sure that having the Doctor’s wife around would prove to be fun.
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12/river trapped in a closet
She doesn’t quite know what to do. After dinner on the balcony, after they return to the TARDIS, after she showers and slips on familiar clothes.
There’s so much she wants to say, even more she needs to hear. Her stomach still hasn’t settled and she can feel her hearts pick up every time he looks at her. She feels like she’s on a precipice, getting ready to jump and for the first time in as long as she can remember, she doesn’t know if he’ll catch her. 
Isn’t certain anymore that he wants to. 
The Doctor, of course, says nothing. She finds him in the console room, and barely has a chance to breathe before he drags her off on a completely unnecessary tour. He takes her to the 19th deck where there’s a perpetual desert storm and down below where there’s a room full of nothing but carousels; he shows her the replica of Coney Island and a new library and a meadow with thousands of butterflies. 
“Not actually butterflies,” he admits as one lands on his arm. “Tiny robots.” 
He grins, like it’s a huge secret he couldn’t wait to share, and oh, how she’s missed him. She wonders how long he’s been alone, that he’s this eager, chattering away like he’s been starved for company. 
Though his voice is different, she still loves the sound of it, the way he narrates each room. She loves the smell of him, though she has to keep stopping herself from getting too close, from breathing him in. She wants to—wants, so much, to simply stop, to close her arms around him and bury her face in his shoulder and just stay there, for as long as he’ll let her. 
But he doesn’t seem interested in that this go around, and his touches are fleeting at best. The occasional hand on her spine, or her arm. He doesn’t take her hand. 
She supposes she deserves it. 
After Manhattan, after Hydroflax, Fleming and Ramone, she understands why he’d be reluctant to touch her. Now that he knows, now that he’s seen the parts of her she’s tried so hard to keep hidden from him, to protect him from. 
She doesn’t blame him. Couldn’t fathom it, but it hurts—the way his body doesn’t lean toward hers anymore. The way he barely looks her in the eye. She wonders what he sees, now, when he looks at her—a thief, a murderer.
A monster. 
He touches her arm again to steer her from the room, and she flinches. His touch is too light, too absent, too unintentional. 
She doesn’t deserve it, regardless, but her chest aches and she has to take slow, measured breaths, has to dig her nails into her palms to keep from crying. 
There will be time for that, later. When he finally tells her the truth. 
When he leaves. 
She tries to pay attention, to ask questions and offer the occasional innuendo that doesn’t make him blush any more. Instead, he just looks at her strangely, like he doesn’t know how to process the words, and she bites her tongue the next time there’s an opportunity; the very thought of making him genuinely uncomfortable makes her feel ill. 
Pushing the feeling aside, she forces a smile as he explains how the waterfalls work, and where the stream goes. It’s beautiful, and wonderful, and she wants to know everything but all she feels is tired. 
It’s been so long since she’s seen him, so long since Manhattan and she’s been running nonstop and she just wants quiet. Wants one night without nightmares, without his words ringing in her ears, things he’d said in his grief to make her angry, things he said to finally make her leave. 
Looking down at the railing, she stares at their hands, both curled around the metal. There was a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated to cover his fingers with hers; a time when he would have done the same. Now, he keeps himself at a distance, the physical space between them almost more than she can bear. 
And still, she smiles.
She smiles when he takes her to a diamond cave and smiles when he shows her badminton courts and smiles when he grumbles about the new training room the TARDIS made. She smiles behind a flinch when he touches her elbow to guide her into the room, at the same time he declares how horrible guns are and how much he hates having a whole room of them on board. 
Though the room is dark, she steps away from him, closing her eyes briefly against the lance of pain in her chest. 
She knows he hates weapons. She isn’t sure why it’s taken her so long to realize she isn’t an exception. 
Behind her, she hears the Doctor shuffle around for a light switch, hears the door click shut behind him. 
“It was right here the last time I was here,” he mutters. 
She doesn’t want to know why he was in here. The air around them feels dense, and she can’t see anything in the black, not even with the sliver of light from under the door. 
“It’s fine,” she says. “We can come back another time.”
She reaches past him and fumbles for the door handle. 
“It’s stuck.”
“No it isn’t,” he says, and she huffs. 
“Yes, it is.”
She feels him press up against her, and stumbles out of the way, knocking into something that feels suspiciously like a broom. 
“Doctor.”
She feels her way along the wall: shelving, a few bottles, pails, and what she hopes are sponges. 
The Doctor is muttering at the door. 
“You locked us in a cupboard.”
“I did not. It’s the training room.”
“It’s the maintenance cupboard.”
He kicks the door and then grunts. “Why would I take us to the maintenance cupboard? It was supposed to be a grand tour.”
“Sonic?”
“My other coat,” he says, and his voice is strange, almost disembodied. She can’t see him at all. 
“Seriously?”
“No, you’ve been Punk’d,” he says, and she tries not to flinch at his tone. 
“There must be some way out of here,” she says, trying to feel around; but it’s a small space, barely big enough for three people, and it’s only a moment before she bumps into him, and quickly steps away, shrinking herself into the furthest corner. She knocks over what she thinks is a mop, hears it hit something hard and then clatter to the floor. 
“Ow.”
She almost smiles. 
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he says, and her smile drops, her hearts like a lead weight. 
Part of her assumes he’s joking, but in the dark, without his smirk or glimmering eyes she can’t tell, and the words fall flat between them. She doesn’t have a reply, words stuck in her throat, and because he can’t see, she wraps her arms around her stomach in some kind of embrace. 
Oblivious, the Doctor sighs. “We’ll just have to wait until she lets us out.”
“She? The TARDIS?”
“Who else?” 
River frowns. “Why would the TARDIS lock us in a cupboard?”
There’s a beat, then, “Seriously?”
River glares, then realizes that won’t do any good and huffs loudly. “Forgive me for not being a mind reader.”
“If you were this would be a lot easier,” he says, low and almost reluctant, and her breathing stalls. 
She knew this was coming. She just thought, maybe, a few hours… that she could have just a few more hours with him, to say goodbye for good before he flies away. 
“River,” he starts, and she can hear the hesitation, the guilt, and slams her eyes shut.
“Don’t,” she manages. 
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say it.” She’s nearly begging, but she can’t bring herself to care. She can’t hear him say it’s over. That’s it’s been over for years. She knows, if he says it she’ll break and she can’t afford to, not here, not now. “I know—” Her voice catches and she clears her throat, tries again. “I know this isn’t what you want. I understand. I appreciate—everything.” Her eyes sting and she has to take two slow breaths to calm her trembling. 
“You appreciate it,” he echoes, and it sounds angry, bitter. 
“I just meant—I know what you’re trying to do, but it’s unnecessary. As soon as we’re out of here, I’ll leave you alone.”
He’s silent, and it weighs on her. In the dark; she starts to see faces, gaunt and howling. 
“If that’s what you want,” he says finally, flatly, and she resists the urge to laugh, almost hysterically.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she says. “What matters is that you—” She stops, hesitates. “What matters is that you’re happy,” she says quietly, and it feels like a secret, too hushed. 
“What makes you think I’m not?”
Because you haven’t kissed me, she thinks. Because you haven’t touched me. Because it’s been so long without me. 
Instead, she forces a laugh. “I can’t imagine anyone would be thrilled to discover their wife’s a homicidal maniac.”
“I already knew that,” he says, and she flinches, hard. 
Breathless, she barely manages, “Well, you certainly seemed surprised.”
“I’m always surprised when I’m with you,” he says, and she can’t tell what he means, how he’s saying it, his voice low and gruff in the dark. 
“Surprised isn’t happy.”
“No,” he agrees. “No, it isn’t.”
Tears sting at her eyes and she shuts them tightly. There’s not enough air, not enough space and everything feels like it’s closing in on her, suffocating. 
Please, she begs, hears the TARDIS hum soothingly in her mind. Please let me out. 
She can almost feel the ship’s disapproval, her defiance. 
The Doctor moves, does something she can’t see and then there’s a hand on her arm, but it feels misplaced, feels conciliatory, and she flinches. 
She hears what sounds like a sharp intake of breath, and his hand falls away. 
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop doing that.”
Don’t, she thinks desperately, please don’t stop, please touch me, please hold me— 
She can’t bring herself to say the words out loud. Instead, she clears her throat, tries to make herself small in the tight space. 
“No,” she says, too hoarse. “No, it’s not—it’s just—”
She doesn’t know how to explain. How his touch unravels her. How it feels like a brand, how she craves and needs it so much, and yet, dreads it. 
Because he’s too good. Too kind, too soft, and she knows she cuts him with her hard edges. Knows she’s too violent and too cruel and too sentimental for him, especially now. 
She can’t bear to imagine what he’d think of her if he knew, all the things she’s done since Manhattan. Since she lost the only three people she’s ever truly loved. 
He wouldn’t understand. He’s lost so much, over and over and somehow remains so, so good, and she’s not like that, never has been. Fear has never made her kind, the way it does him; it makes her weak. Angry. 
Unworthy. 
“Just what?” he asks, and his voice sounds softer, somehow. Patient, in a way he’s never been, not with her. At least, not lately. 
She doesn’t know what to say, without saying everything. 
She pushes it aside, tries to keep her voice causal, keep it from cracking. 
“It’s just been a while,” she says, and hopes he doesn’t ask. She hopes he does. 
“Since Manhattan?” 
She nods, and a long silence stretches before she remembers he can’t see her. “Yes.” 
“How long?”
She shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. “Almost a year.” 
There’s a beat, and his tone is a strange mix of anger and hurt. “Then you lied to me.”
“About what?”
“You said two months.”
River frowns, trying to remember. “When did I say that?”
“At Amy’s. When I followed you, you said—”
“Spoilers,” she says, suddenly breathless, a faint hope knocking at her ribs. She hasn’t been back to her parents house, with its warmth and photographs and memories. She hadn’t wanted to see it empty, hadn’t been able to bring herself to go back, to clear it out. She knows she’ll have to, eventually—she knows he won’t do it. 
“What do you mean, spoilers? You’re a professor, you’ve done Manhattan, and then you left and I found you packing up their house—”
“Maybe you did, but I haven’t done it yet.”
“You haven’t,” he echoes. And then, “You haven’t done Arnos yet either, I assume?”
“No,” she says, her mouth dry, suddenly desperate and terrified of seeing her husband, that version of her husband, again. She’d thought that was the end, after—
“So the last time you saw me…” he trails off, and River closes her eyes, tries not to think about his words, the look of betrayal on his face. 
This is your fault. 
She shudders, exhales, waits for more of his ire. 
Instead, he touches her again, fumbling in the dark for her arm. “I’m sorry.”
River blinks. “What for?”
“Everything,” he says. “What I said. What I did. Time travel.” He huffs. “I followed you, River,” he says, and she shakes her head, almost frantic. 
“Don’t tell me—”
His hand tightens around her arm. “I followed you, and I did everything in my power to make it up to you. Or rather, I will.” He sighs. “I didn’t realize it had been so long.”
River swallows. “It’s not your fault,” she manages. 
“Yeah, it is.” She opens her mouth to protest, and he must know, because he steps closer, still holding her arm. “Don’t. Just because I will apologize doesn’t mean you have to forgive me now.”
“I always forgive you,” she murmurs. 
“Even for not loving you enough?”
The words knock the air from her lungs, and she pulls away from him, winded. She’d known, she’d known he didn’t love her, not the way she loved him, but hearing it, she can’t breathe. Her hearts trip and she remembers her father, before he knew he was her father, asking her what she meant by a far worse day and it’s this, she thinks, this moment, all her fears true and the blackness and she can’t stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks. She inhales, body trembling and she’s glad, suddenly, for the dark. If this is what had to happen, and even the TARDIS knew, she’s grateful he can’t see her face. 
“River—” he starts, uncertain, and it’s not his fault, no one’s fault but her own, and she shakes her head, her voice cracking just slightly on her reassurance, 
“You can’t help it.”
It falls flat, sounds unconvincing even to her own ears but she doesn’t blame him, doesn’t want him to think she does, but when she tries to speak, it’s all air. 
“I suppose,” he says, and she tries to breathe, to control herself, but when she exhales it’s a hitched sob, and she claps her hand over her mouth, humiliated and heartbroken and so, so lost. 
“You’re crying.”
He sounds surprised, and she doesn’t understand.
“I’m fine,” she manages, swipes at her cheeks, aware her tone is too curt, angry at herself. 
“Why?” he asks, and there’s no judgement, no reprimand, just concern, and she supposes she owes him, for whatever good it will do. 
“I knew—” she starts, stops when her voice breaks and tries again, softer. “I’ve known for a while. That you don’t feel the same. It’s just another thing to hear you say it, that’s all.”
He moves, and she can feel him closer, and she closes her eyes, wishes he wouldn’t. She wants to bury her head in his chest and cry but she can’t do that to him, won’t do it to herself, and she’s so distracted trying to keep herself together she almost misses his words, the floundering, 
“Say—? No, River. That’s not—that’s not what I meant.”
Her hearts pinch. Her Doctor, always trying to make things better. 
“It’s alright, Doctor, really. It doesn’t matter—”
“Stop it,” he snaps, and she blinks, momentarily stunned. “Stop saying that, of course it matters.” He sighs, and steps a few paces away from her, and she doesn’t know what she’ll do, now. She knows she doesn’t need him—not to travel or survive or live her life but she wants him, always has, always will, and she supposes this is her punishment, to love so fiercely the person who can never or will never love her back. 
She’d thought she’d made peace with that. Apparently she was wrong. 
Just as her tears start to well again, the Doctor reaches out, fumbling along her arm for her hands. She tries to pull away but he holds fast, stands so close, his forehead nearly pressed to hers. 
“I meant I haven’t shown you. I haven’t been there for you. I haven’t done enough.”
She inhales sharply, rehears his words, and they mean something different, so suddenly, but she doesn’t dare hope. 
“Doctor—”
His voice trembles, and she can feel his breath against her cheek. “You really think I don’t love you?”
Hope flutters in her chest and she can’t do this again, can’t be brave any longer. Her mother’s last words ring in her ears, take care of him, but she barely remembers how to take care of herself. 
She wants to lie. On instinct, wants to apologize and lie and say it was all a misunderstanding, to chase the guilt and weight from his words. That of course she knows. Of course it’s all pretend. 
But she’s so tired. Of running and fighting and lying.
In the silence, the Doctor slides his hand up her arm, and she holds her breath as his fingers slip over her jaw, and his palm, soft and tentative, cradles her cheek. 
“I don’t know anymore,” she whispers, doesn’t mean to, wishes she could take it back but instead of the guilt she expects, the groveling, the Doctor’s quiet a moment, and then, so soft, his thumb brushing over her cheek, 
“Would it help if I said it?”
She freezes. “What?”
“Would it—”
She shakes her head. It can’t be real, can’t be true. Not once has he told her, never returned her whispers in the dark. She knows he can’t, and doesn’t want to demand it of him but she’s hungered for those words for so long, so much, each time he leaves her with a kiss and nothing else she’s wished. 
“You don’t have to—”
His hand falls to her waist and he holds fast. “Would it help, River,” he repeats. “The truth, please, for once.”
He sounds sincere, and desperate, and afraid, and for the first time she wonders if she was wrong. If all of this is wrong, and she’s just been without him so long she can’t remember what it feels like, his love. How he says it without saying anything at all. 
But she’s never heard it before. 
Amy and Rory never said it, not as children, not as teens. They never said it as her parents, though they certainly seemed to love her in some kind of way. She’s never been close enough to anyone else, and even if she had been, there’s only one person she’s ever wanted those words from and here he is, at last, offering them to her in the dark. 
“Please, River,” he whispers, like it matters. 
She swallows, breathes out, and admits, so quiet, “Only if you meant it.”
It’s as good as a yes, and the Doctor’s fingers dig briefly into her waist before he drops his hands, and she tries not to panic. 
“You know,” he starts, and she can hear his clothing shift, but can’t see what he’s doing. “Gallifreyan has over a thousand words for love. There’s a word you use for brothers, for sisters, for parents and friends and lovers and strangers.”
She knows, remembers learning them all, his voice in her ear, hand over hers as he taught her how to write, those beautiful circles it took her so long to perfect. 
“Time matters as well—most languages, they only think in past, present, and future, but Gallifreyan - there’s a word for “I love you right this second.” There’s a word for “I’ll love you tomorrow.” There’s a word for “I don’t love you yet, but I will.”” 
River bites her lip, feels like she’s waiting, feels like she’s falling, but the Doctor just keeps talking, almost casual, but she can tell he’s choosing each word with care. 
“We have words for inevitable love and unrequited love and fleeting love and dancing with someone you love. There’s even a word for falling in love, that roughly translates as “the sound of wind rushing in your ears.”” 
She can hear the smile in his voice, the fondness for his native tongue. 
“Marriages on Gallifrey only last one regeneration,” he continues, “Because personalities change, it’s unfair to assume people will stay together any longer than one life. Sometimes vows are renewed, sometimes people go their separate ways.” 
Her hearts plummet again, waiting for the truth, for him to step away. Instead, his voice softens, and he takes her hand again, stroking his thumb over her skin. 
“And very rarely, people will stay together through every one of their regenerations. Those people use a different word—there’s no exact translation, but it’s close to endless, boundless, eternal, with the understanding that life isn’t fleeting at all, not for a Time Lord. When humans say forever it just means time. A little more time.” He echoes her words, and she can hear his smile. “When we say it, it means unending.”
Her chest aches and her eyes burn and she can barely breathe. “Doctor.”
“I can’t say I love you, River,” he says, and she feels herself start to slip away, and then: “It’s too small, and too ordinary, and not nearly sentimental enough.”
River inhales sharply. “Sweetie—”
He pushes something into her hand, something soft and worn and she would know it anywhere, that old bow tie. Her fingers fumble for it, follow it, and she nearly gasps when she realizes one end is wrapped around his hand, the other loose for her. 
To choose. 
Leaning forward, his lips brushing her cheek before they reach her ear, he breathes the words she recognizes, words he just told her. It’s I love you forever. I love you eternal. I love you boundlessly. Her breathing hitches and she strives to stifle the sob, but it creeps up anyway, a shuddering gasp in the quiet room. 
“That’s why I don’t say it, River. Not because I don’t feel it. Because it’s just not enough.” His hand settled on her cheek, brushing tears away with his thumb. “Do you believe me?”
She sniffles, and almost laughs. She doesn’t know what to do, what to say, how to tamp down her hearts, which feel like they’re flying away. She wants to hug him, kiss him, hold him and never let go. She restrains herself, barely, and takes a deep breath before feeling in the dark for his hands. 
“Yes,” she murmurs, wrapping the other end of the bow tie around her hand, the gesture so familiar, so precious. 
The Doctor releases a breath she hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and she reaches out with her free hand, searching for his face in the dark. She brushes his cheek, and he instantly tilts against her, his other hand coming up to cover hers. 
“Good,” he says, his voice scratchy. “Good.” 
River smiles, and for the first time in so long, it’s real. 
“I love you,” she whispers, in his language, the same words repeated back and the Doctor shivers, and steps closer, crowding her, still clutching her hand. His forehead drops against hers and he tangles his free hand in her hair.
“River.”
“Shut up,” she whispers, and he seems to take it as permission, seems to open some floodgates she hadn’t been aware existed. He surges forward, pushing her back against a shelf and his mouth covers hers and she keeps her hand on his cheek, parts her lips and kisses him back. He makes a sound, gruff and somehow sweet, a moan that turns possessive when she tries to pull back. He grips her tighter, presses himself against her and he’s warm and gentle and all-consuming, his mouth moving over hers and his fingers against her neck. 
She startles when the lights come on, and the door clicks, but the Doctor doesn’t seem to notice, breathing heavily, his fingers brushing the remains of her tears from her cheeks. 
“Staying?” he asks, and she can hear the insecurity, sees it in his face still when she leans back, just far enough. 
Squeezing his hand, she smiles. “Yes,” she murmurs, the single word swallowed in his kiss. 
97 notes · View notes
singledarkshade · 3 years
Text
Magical Mix Up
Chapter Seven
(Chapter Six can be found here.)
Author’s Note: Again a huge thanks goes to @theadrogna for being my historical guide for all things Roman. I have learned some fun things for this fic.
Amy hated that Rory had been taken from her once more. Sometimes it felt as though the universe did this to them every few years just for laughs.
“We’ll find him, Amelia,” the Doctor wrapped his arm around her, “You two always find one another. Even when he died and was erased from time, Rory came back to you.”
Amy took a deep breath, “I know.”
“Then don’t worry,” the Doctor smiled, “This place especially is somewhere that he knows. Somewhere he can blend into, so we just have to look for any signs he’s left for us. And if we’re in the wrong part of the city, then Rip will find him.”
She sighed looking around what she once would have been excited to see. The Romans had been her favourite subject at school, but while Rory was missing nothing else mattered.
Amy had tried every so often to ask him about the memories he held but Rory didn’t like thinking, never mind talking about them.
They continued through the marketplace, hoping that they’d find him but so far nothing. Amy’s heart leapt every time she saw a flash of red, hoping Rory would appear before her but there was no luck so far.
As they walked on Amy suddenly sighed, “Why haven’t we found anything? Rory would leave us a sign, where is it?”
The Doctor mused before shaking his head, “Of course, we arrived here not long after him. He wouldn’t expect us yet. Rory is probably finding a place to hunker down first.”
“So, what do we do?” Amy demanded.
The Doctor wrapped his arm around her once more, “We keep looking for him. He would have entered through the same gate we did. We’re in the right section of the city and there are only a certain amount of places Rory will be able to go without connections. We’ll find him.”
                               *********************************************
 John winced as he was tossed out the window and slammed into the ground. Scrambling to his feet, he turned to see the multiple guards appear swords drawn.
“Look,” he held out his hands, “Obviously mistakes were made, and I shouldn’t have been in there, even if she did invite me but there’s no need for all this. I was just asking for help to find someone.”
John grimaced as his explanation wasn’t swaying them and they continued to advance. Spinning round to run away, John found there were two guards behind him and groaned as someone hit him across the back of his head. Dropping to the ground, John swam in and out of consciousness as he was grabbed by each arm then dragged through the crowd. His head was buzzing, and John wanted to pull away but couldn’t. John groaned as he was yanked to his feet and came face to face with a large man who listened to one of the guards before nodding. John struggled weakly as he was dragged through the gates and into a room with a hole in the floor covered by a metal grate. The grate was pulled off it and a rope ladder tossed down.
John was shoved to the hole and pushed down.
“Climb or fall,” the guard told him, “Your choice.”
Against his growing headache, John climbed down the ladder knowing the other way would probably result in worse injury. The moment he touched the dirt covered ground, the ladder was pulled up, leaving him in the cell with circular walls and nothing but a hole in the ceiling.
Waiting until the guards were gone, John gently touched his ear to activate his communicator, but it wasn’t there. Frantically checking his clothes and the floor of the cell, he sighed finding nothing.
“Bollocks.”
                                 *********************************************
 Gideon sipped the tea she’d made for herself while the others worked to fix the Waverider. She could hear the annoyed cries as things wouldn’t work, no matter what they did. Jax was currently swearing at the systems as Rip had shown him several tricks that normally got the computer to start, but this time everything refused to work for him.
“Gideon,” Cisco appeared, “Can I talk to you?”
She nodded, “Of course. Take a seat.”
“Okay,” he frowned, dropping into the chair across from her, “I get you’re annoyed at them, especially the fact Sara hid they’d found Rip from you.”
“And kept him imprisoned,” Gideon added sharply.
Cisco nodded, “I get all that but fixing the ship should be a priority?”
She smiled slightly at him, “It is. Mr Ramon, I would never do anything to put the Waverider in danger. The self-repair systems are already working, and the ship shall be repaired within the next six hours.”
Cisco frowned, “Then why are you letting them struggle?”
Amusement covered her face, “Because they believe they do not need me.”
“What about Rip?”
“Sending more people is not a good idea,” Gideon remined him, “Mr Constantine is currently searching for him. Adding the others while the situation is unknown is reckless. Once the systems are running again, I will be able to locate him within seconds.”
Cisco frowned, “You can find Rip that easily?”
“Now we are within the same time, yes,” Gideon told him, “It was a problem when I had to search the entirety of time and space.”
“Then what?” Cisco asked softly.
“Gideon smiled beatifically, “Then I take my ship and if others wish to travel with me, then we shall work out an arrangement.”
Cisco nodded, “Sara is going to love that.”
                                 *********************************************
 Rory gripped his sword, feeling the familiar handle bite into his hand. He felt better now, having his own weapon but they couldn’t use them just now and caught Rip’s arm holding him in place.
“Where will they take him?” Rip asked, watching his friend dragged away.
Rory turned asking, “Don’t you know?”
“I learned enough to pass myself off as a soldier within a guard station in order to retrieve a shotgun,” Rip told him, “Not to mention it was one of my very first missions, so I’m a bit rusty on the customs.”
“He’s been taken to the Tullianum,” Rory explained, “It’s a dungeon. Prisoners were left in there until trial, usually without food and water.”
Rip frowned, “How long until he’s put on trial?”
“Depends on who the house belonged to,” Rory mused, “And whose bedchamber he violated. From what I know that house belongs to a very important member of the Senate. Your friends are not the best at keeping a low profile, are they?”
“John tends to not to think at times,” Rip sighed, “Not with his head anyway,” he bent down and picked up a small metallic disc, “And this is his comms link, so he can’t call for help.”
“Let’s face it from what I’ve seen of the others is a blessing for the timeline,” Rory noted.
“How do we get him out?” Rip asked.
Rory frowned as he thought, “Well, that’s the problem. I suggest waiting until tonight, there will be fewer guards for us to get past on the night shift. The sun will be going down in about three hours if I’m right.”
Grimacing Rip said, “Then I suggest we get back to the TARDIS and reunite you with Amy. We can make a plan there.”
Rory nodded, “That is a great idea.”
Motioning towards the city gate, Rip smiled, “This way.”
 The blue box Rory expected to see was not there and he frowned turning to Rip.
“There’s a camouflage shielding on,” Rip explained, “The Doctor told me to look for a pattern on the wall,” he stepped forward and studied the area finding finally a few squiggles made by chalk. Turning Rip took a small step forward and banged into the hidden TARDIS.
Rory began to laugh, the lightness made him feel more like Nurse-Rory and less Centurion-Rory.
“I appear to have found it,” Rip winced, rubbing his forehead.
Rory stepped forward, his hand stretched out and gently touched the door feeling the wood beneath his fingertips.
“It’s me,” he whispered, “Can I come in?” There was a pause before the lock clicked, and the door opened for him. Stepping inside, Rory smiled, “Thank you.”
Rip followed him inside, closing the door and joined Rory at the control console, “Do you know what you’re doing?”
Nodding Rory replied, “The Doctor showed me how to send a signal to the sonic once. Just in case. I could, in theory, also take us somewhere.”
“How did you unlock the door,” Rip asked suddenly, “I noticed a lock earlier. And a ship this advanced, the Doctor would not leave it accessible.”
Rory shrugged, “Normally I’d have a key, but the TARDIS likes me. Don’t ask me why but she apparently does.”
Rip frowned in thought, “Like an AI?”
“Like a soul,” Rory replied.
 Rip watched the other man for a moment before deciding to ask what had been weighing on his mind since he’d connected with the computer on his own ship.
“Rory,” he said, “When you were on the Waverider, did anyone mention Gideon?”
Musing for a moment, Rory finally replied, “Your friend John stated Gideon wasn’t able to help at the moment.”
Rip sighed, “I’m really hoping they haven’t damaged her permanently.”
“Who is she?” Rory asked softly.
“She’s the AI for the Waverider,” Rip replied shortly.
Rory stared at him for a moment before asking, “Who is she to you?”
Amazed by how perceptive the other man was Rip shrugged, “My best friend. The only family I have left.”
“He only said at the moment,” Rory reminded him, “We can ask him when we get him out, so don’t lose hope.”
Rip shook his head, “You are very different from me. I lost the ability to hope a long time ago.”
Before Rory could answer they heard the door opening and Amy ran in, followed closely by the Doctor. Without a word, the redhead ran to her husband and grabbed him in a tight embrace. Rip watched Rory’s eyes close in relief as he held onto Amy. Pulling away from Rory, Amy turned to Rip.
“Thank you,” she breathed, as the Doctor hugged Rory, “Thank you.”
Rip shrugged, “He was fine without any of us.”
“So,” the Doctor said, “Where to now?”
“Actually,” Rory spoke up, “One of Rip’s people has been arrested and we need to rescue him.”
Amy’s eyes darkened, “Is this one of the people who held you hostage?”
“They thought I was Rip,” Rory soothed before continuing, “Besides, he violated the sanctity of a Senator’s wife’s bedroom and, as he is definitely not a citizen, then this will not end well for him unless we get him out.”
“What about his friends?” Amy demanded, “Can’t they risk their lives instead of yours, again.”
“His communicator fell out,” Rory replied softly, “He has no way to call for help.”
Annoyance flickered across Amy’s face, but when Rory took her hand, she sighed and nodded.
“Fine,” Amy said, “But I’m coming with you.”
“No,” Rory told her, “I’ve seen you with a sword. We’re not looking for that level of carnage.”
Before Amy could argue, the Doctor spoke up, “I agree with Rory, Amy. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Besides we’ll need you to come after us if something goes wrong,” Rip noted wryly, “Which, with my current track record, it will.”
“You’re a bundle of joy,” Amy rolled her eyes.
Rory wrapped his arm around Amy and pressed a kiss to her temple before turning to Rip, “First thing first. I want my own uniform back. Then we’ll work out a plan.”
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verobatto · 4 years
Text
Destiel Chronicles
Vol. LXXXII
It was a love story from the very beginning.
Is Not Allowed (Part III)
(12x10 c)
Hello everyone! And look what Yockey made me do! A third part of his episode! 🤣
But this is the last part from 12x10, and I will throw here the Sacred Oath again, and the transference Ishim makes while talking about 'human weakness'.
Cas is family and is more than that for Dean
So, when Ishim and Cas finish their story about Lily, Dean and Sam feel they can talk and reason with this woman.
SAM: We're here to talk, that's it. We come in peace. Just hear us out. We heard what happened to your family.
LILY: My family?
DEAN: See, Cas is our family, so we can't let you hurt him.
Dean continues placing Cas in that spot, because is the top place he has. But we all know he feels different about him, that's why when they discovered the truth, and who Ishim is, the worrisome in Dean's face alerts Sam, who let his brother go to save Castiel.
Is extremely important the disrespectful way Ishim talks about Cas and his relationship with the Winchesters. Because Ishim sees any kind of relationship with humans as a weakness. He transfers his own fears and ideas to Cas, because he sees in Cas his own relationship with Lily, but he deeply is envying the bond Cas reached with Dean, because he couldn't achieve it with Lily.
ISHIM: The way you let those simians talk to you... Castiel, when did you get so gooey? You know why we're meant to stay away from them humans? Hmm? It's not because we're a danger to them. They're a danger to us. Case in point.
Here we have a parallel with Sam and Dean saying to Cas why he let the angels to talk to him so mean. But also, Ishim is pointing humans like danger, why? Because his experience with Lily make him have strong feelings, he even got obsessed with the woman. Is a toxic mirror of what Destiel is.
CAS: Well, my friendship with Sam and Dean has made me stronger.
ISHIM: You can't really believe that.
Castiel is sure he's much better after knowing the Winchesters, and he will repeat these words in episode 12x12 in the barn, because the truly believe this, but to Ishim, have feelings for human, mostly for one particular human, romantic feelings, as he felt for Lily, makes you weak. Because he feels that way. He feels weak because of that strong feeling inside of him. Because Ishim relationship with Lily were sick and Cas and Dean is not.
Human Weakness
The way Dean approached Cas, is showing us he's not mad at him anymore. He was conciliation. The ways he places his hand on Castiel's shoulder, is supportive and protective. Because Cas is family, and more than that.
And the words he says to Ishim, about his relationship with Cas, are priceless. It shows the huge difference between Destiel and Ishim with Lily.
ISHIM: Who are you gonna believe? Your brother, or some filthy ape who's always talking down to you, always mocking you.
DEAN: You know, Cas and I might not agree all the time, but at least he knows who his real friends are.
Beautiful, you know why? Because Dean is using the word 'I', is this a kind of apologies? Yes it is! And again, Castiel chooses Dean.
Then we have the pivotal Destiel scene...
ISHIM: You survived Hell. You were chosen by God. But now look at you. You're just sad and pathetically weak.
Why is Castiel weak at the sight of Ishim's eyes? Because he knows he fell in love with a human too, just like him. Transference.
ISHIM: So now... I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own– by cutting it out.
Gif set credit @godshipsit 👇
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And is not surprise, he was talking about Dean, because he approaches him slowly, blandished his angel blade, looking straight to Dean. And now, is time for Dean to choose Castiel. (If this is not romantic, idk what it is guys.)
DEAN: Don't move.
ISHIM: Do it. You blast me away, you'll blast away every angel in the room. I'll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he's hurt. He might live or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall. Roll the dice.
Gif set credit @inacatastrophicmind 👇
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And Dean lows his hand. *SOBBING*
The Touch
Before talking about the way Dean touched Castiel's shoulder in the last scene, let's talk about this...
CAS: I truly can't imagine the depths of your loss. This was your child. I can't imagine the pain. So if you leave here and you find that you can't forgive me... I'll be waiting.
What a way to place a foreshadow here, as I said, Yockey is the one writing a guide for the entire Destiel plot and the most important incoming topics. Castiel will be able to feel what to be a father is, it will be part of his arc. And in an episode in which we talked about WEAKNESS AND NEPHILIM, WE ARE SHOWN HOW ONE CHILD (JACK) WILL MAKE CASTIEL STRONGER.
Now, time to scream about Destiel...
Gif credit @rosewhipped22 👇
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Look at this gif... They're back in the bunker and is time to console Castiel, because he had a hard day. So Dean brings him a beer. But... Look at his hand. He touches Castiel's shoulder, but then he carresses it, looking away!!!! He's looking away because what he's doing feels huge inside of him, he is touching the angel not in a brotherly way, not in a platonic way at all, he's being subtle about his feelings towards Cas!!! So have a beer, buddy, and here have a nice touch. Because Dean needed it. He needed to show Cas, even if is in this subtle way, he cares about him, he cares A LOT, about him.
Okay, I'm done with this episode.
To Conclude:
Ishim's transfers into Cas his weakness and his relationship with Lily, a human.
But the huge difference between them and Destiel is, Dean and Cas love each other, even if sometimes they fight, they love each other, and that love makes them stronger.
Hope you like this one, see you in the next meta!
Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper
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If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.
If you want to read the previous metas from season 12, here you have the links...
Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX, LXXX, LXXXI.
Buenos Aires, October 4th 2020 9:30 PM
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