#eleventh doctor imagines

[multific]

Forgotten Memories

Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Summary: You never truly knew what it was like to be forgotten.

You wouldn't say there was only one Doctor you loved.

You loved him. Not a version of him.

You met him a long long time ago.

You two fell in love during the adventures and rough times you have been through.

Then came a new one, he was a lot more chaotic, but he loved you the same. It was a bit more difficult for you than you thought it would be.

But you loved him.

If you were honest this Doctor had a lot higher sex drive. You noticed that after every dangerous situation, he pulled you to his bed, shower or bathtub. And you loved that. You enjoyed every moment you spent with him.

He made you laugh so much. For Christmas, you got him a new pair of Converse since he began to fall apart a while ago.

Then he had to go.

"I don't want to go. I am not ready to leave you." he said as you offered him a smile.

"I know, and it is okay. I know that no matter how you look like, you will always love me and I will always love you. We have made great memories, Doctor. We should be ready for new adventures."

Your smile never failed to calm him, even in this state.

You never left his side, waiting for him to change as you sat on the couch not too far from him.

When you saw the light, you closed your eyes.

Waiting for him to go through it before opening your eyes again.

You opened them and saw a man running around, mumbling before he finally noticed you.

"Oh, hi!"

"Hello!"

---

You liked the new doctor. He looked handsome, he was fun and you even liked the bowtie.

However, he seemed to have forgotten about you.

He was convinced you were only a companion of his.

And no matter what you did, you couldn't make him remember. No matter what you said or did.

He was oblivious.

He brought you to places you have been before. It was as if you were completely deleted from his brain along with all memories you two made.

Not. A. Single. Thing.

He didn't even remember your name.

Then, you started to give up hope he would remember and tried to make new ones.

But it was difficult given he was back into his old ways of hiding his feelings and worries. Something you always hated.

"Do you really not remember that we have been here before?" you asked as he showed you the same castle.

"Have we?! When?"

"About... three years ago."

"Three years?! I have known you for that long? But you only appeared in my TARDIS two months ago!"

"I didn't appear. I was always there." you said as you watched the castle during the night. "We should probably go if you want to avoid meeting yourself."

And you two left.

The same night, you asked him to have dinner with you. Well, you say night but on the TARDIS time didn't exist.

"The day you met me, I was in a bad state. Very bad state.  I was walking the streets aimlessly, trying to keep warm with moving when I saw the TARDIS at the time I thought it was a regular Police Box, I wanted to call for help. Although I had no idea what I would say, but I knew I needed help. Then, you opened the door and looked at me. I thought you were just someone using the box for a call. But you saved me. In more ways than one. You are everything to me. You showed me a part of life I would have never been able to see. I love you so much that I am willing to leave if that is what you want."

"Leave? I don't want you to leave."

"Then how do I make you fall in love with me again?"

"You did it once, I can feel a special connection, I believe you can do it again."

"I will need your help though. I can't do it all alone."

"I'll help. Yes, I will! I want to! I want you! YES! This is perfect! Oh, I always thought you would make a great wife! YES! We could get married."

"Silly, Time Lord..."

"Huh?"

"We are already married."

Speechless. Not happened many times. But now, he was speechless.

"Married?!"

"Yes, we got married ten years ago... hard to keep track of time but you have the calendar and TARDIS reminds us."

"How long have you known me?"

"Twenty years? Thirty years? Something like that."

"How old are you?" he looked beyond confused.

"Your last... You gave me a device of some kind. Like a chip. You said it basically slows down my ageing while you were looking for a more... permanent solution."

"This is so much. You are my barely ageing wife! Whom I met thirty years ago?!"

"Yes. You never forgot me. Ever, until now. Sure you forgot minor stuff but never my entire existence or the places we have been to."

"I-I need to remember! I forgot so much!"

"You don't have to force yourself." you smiled. "I'm just happy that at least you know now."

He then ran back to the control room, and looked at his buttons.

"WIFE?! And you didn't tell ME!" he yelled at TARDIS who decided to tilt ever so slightly making him fall against the railings.

"Don't fight please." you said to both of them.

"But, why did I forget?!"

From then on, it became his obsession. Trying to figure out how and why he forgot now suddenly.

It was his secondary mission as the first one was to get to know you. After all, he did miss out on thirty years.

The Doctor asked you to move back to his room, after all, it was both of yours.

And now he understood the changes and why he spent more time in there.

One time, he was returning to bed when he found you already asleep. You needed more sleep than he did, so it wasn't unusual for you to sleep while he didn't.

But that time, as he entered as if a cold bucket of water was thrown on him, he felt a memory come back.

It was you and him, in that same bed, laying naked as you laughed. He couldn't exactly recall the conversation but he remembered your smile and the feeling of your fingers running random patterns on his skin.

So, he didn't lose the memories of you, but rather they were locked away in his head for some reason.

And he may never know. But he started to remember more and more. Each one of your kisses triggered a new memory in him and all were amazing.

He one day remembered your wedding.

You two were on a planet, watching as the planet's two suns set at the same time. He glanced at you and noticed just how breathtaking you looked in the light orange and pink glow.

Then the memory of you walking towards him, promising him love until all time ends.

Oh just how he loved you. And the little twinkle in your eyes told him just how much you loved him.

"I don't remember everything, Love. But I remember most." he said during dinner one day. You just nodded.

You knew he was slowly starting to remember.

He started to use phrases or names that he often did before.

You were happy he remembered a couple things, it eased your mind and you felt like you can breathe easier.

"I remember our wedding. And wedding night." you wanted to slap his arm but the smirk on his face made you change your mind. Then his smirk turned into a smile. Such a kind and gentle smile.

"Of course, that is what you would remember...At least you remember."

"I do remember now why I fell in love with you though. I remember during our visit to Argonira, how you saved my life. I remember how you begged me not to die, not to dare to leave you. I remember you cried and it broke both of my hearts. I knew then, I would never be able to let you go."

"You told me that so many times and yet, it never fails to make my heart skip a beat." you smiled at him as he moved a little in his chair.

"I believe our tenth anniversary is coming up, a little blue birdy told me so."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, and I was thinking we could... go somewhere special."

"I'd like that."

He decided to bring you to the place you got married.

The planet however looked different.

"This is beautiful." you said, admiring the view.

"On Earth, today's the day we have met. When you almost ran into me as I was getting out of TARDIS. Today's the day I met you and I didn't even know back then that I fell in love with you. You are my everything. I would watch worlds burn before I want to see you hurt. You are just... I can't even put it into words." you took a step closer to him, letting him pull you into his arms as you put one of your hands around his neck, the other on his chest.

"You don't have to. I know exactly what you mean. Every time I tell you that I love you, I feel like the word 'love' is simply not enough to express how I truly feel towards you. And when our words fail us, we just have to show." you smiled and slowly pulled him down so his lips could meet yours.

"Happy anniversary, My Love."

"Happy anniversary, Doctor."

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[thekirbishow]

Poetry List

Please be kind!

Feedback is always welcome!

Share your thoughts and opinions!

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Love 🫀

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Eleventh Doctor ~ Masterlist

Fluff = ♡

Angst = □

Hurt/Comfort = ☆

Other = ◇

Stars ♡

Fantastic ♡

[Main Masterlist]

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Unplanned Surprise (Doctor Who Drabble)

Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You have an unplanned surprise to tell the Doctor about.

CW: reader is GN but is pregnant, so the afab body is specified

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

“I’m pregnant,” you said, taking the bullet head-on and finally confessing to the Doctor the thing that had been plaguing you for quite some time. Well, only a few weeks- but it felt like a very long time. 

You weren’t really sure what to expect from him, given that he was reasonably prone to unpredictability. Would he scream for joy? Would he cry? Would he send you away and never want to see you again? For once, the endless possibilities did not fill you with intrigue or confidence. 

“Pregnant?” The Doctor repeated dumbly, wriggling his fingers thoughtfully. “How did that happen?” 

His tone wasn’t upset, angry or joyous. It was just casual. He was being casual about this. Maybe it hadn’t quite sunk in yet? You blinked at him as the question actually registered. 

“H-how did that happen? Doctor, you know exactly how that happened,” you blustered, mouth agape. 

“Well, yes, conceptually, I know how you humans pro-create and conceive,” he broke off for a second, trying to think of the word. “Babies. But you and me?” The Doctor gestured between the both of you a little too aggressively. “Not the same species, remember? My ejaculate should not be able to impregnate you.” 

You were lost for words, blinking confusedly. You supposed that made sense, but then again, the three tests you’d done had all said you were pregnant, so it looked like there was a first time for everything. 

“Should have tested that theory a little better before engaging in your breeding kink then, hey,” you replied, picking at your nails. The Doctor practically choked on his tongue, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offence. 

“Excuse you, Petal,” he argued, “but I am quite certain that you enjoy being bred full of my cum- do you not?” 

You split into a cocky grin, knowing he was absolutely right. 

“That may be so, but the point remains that I am pregnant, and it’s definitely yours, Doctor.” 

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed that information. Then, he closed his mouth and split into the widest, most pleased grin you had ever seen from him. 

“You’re pregnant,” he all but shouted, hands outstretched in shock. He ran one hand through his hair. ‘You’re pregnant!” He shouted again, this time ending with a disbelieving giggle. 

“I am,” you confirmed, the Doctor’s grin infectious. 

You both let out a nervous laugh and then the Doctor had you scooped up into his arms and twirled you around. You laughed louder, holding onto him as he lifted you up and back down again. 

The Doctor slowed before wrapping you up in a tight hug as if to hold you close and never let you go. You breathed out, feeling content. 

Life was looking good. You were going to be parents. To a baby- a hybrid half-human-half-Time Lord baby but still!

“Parents,” the Doctor whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead and echoing your thoughts. “Almost unbelievable, isn’t it?”

You hummed, listening to both of his hearts beat in his chest. They were beating fast, telling you exactly how ecstatic the Doctor was about this news. 

“Completely insane,” you agreed with a soft nod. “I can’t wait.”

[shuichiakainx]

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

[pastanest]

Eleventh Doctor x she/her!reader

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

Set Things Right

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without a word, the Doctor nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The love of your life.

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

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

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

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

“Pretty boy?” He chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He waits until you have stepped inside your home, closed and locked the front door, before he takes his leave. There is no skip in his step this time, his shoes thud against the concrete road with a determination and fury like no other.

Walking over to his Tardis, the Doctor rests his back against the doors and crosses his arms. 

“I know you’re hiding over there, I know you like to follow her. Just tell me why.” He speaks into the street that appears empty, but in his peripheral vision, he can see the same hooded shadow that had been following you earlier, hiding around the corner of someone else’s house.

For a moment, the stalker says nothing and the Doctor is tempted to speak again, but then a voice greets him from the dark.

“None of your business.”

The Doctor laughs coldly. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. By choosing to subject her to the fear that you have, you have made this my business. So, I’ll ask again, just once: why?”

The hooded figure considers the words and the obvious confidence of the bowtie-wearing man that leans against a police box. Based on this, he evidently tries to choose his words carefully, but not carefully enough.

“I like the way she walks faster when she sees me behind her.”

The Doctor’s blood boils in his veins. “You like to scare her?”

When no voice replies to correct him, the Time Lord stands up from leaning against the Tardis and walks over to the monster of a man that thinks himself hidden. 

“Does it make you feel powerful, scaring her? Like you’re making some impact on the world?” The Doctor seethes. “Let me make myself very clear: she is one world that will forever be out of your reach, both in who she is and the fact I will make sure of it. She is under my protection, do you want to know what that means?”

Without giving the monster time to answer, the Doctor grabs him by a tuft of his hair and slams his forehead into his, sending him a shockwave compilation of the Time Lord’s most formidable and incredible moments. The paper man crumbles to the floor, a shaking mess, and the Doctor stands tall over him. 

“If I ever see your face again, it will be your last day on this planet.” The Doctor threatens, voice eerily soft given the weight of his words.

Nodding frantically, the stalker scrambles to his feet and sprints as fast as he can away from the ancient god. 

Rubbing his face tiredly, the Doctor returns to his time machine and collapses on the jump seat. 

“He won't bother her again, she’s safe now.” He tells his oldest companion.

She whirrs pleasantly at him, grateful for him having saved you, but reiterating a question that already nags at his mind.

“After seeing my list of atrocities, it’s highly likely he’ll ever come back. We should…” He trails off, exhausted by the task of sharing his own history with another mind in such a way. Sighing deeply, he sits back in the chair. “But highly likely still isn’t definite. I should probably stay, just one more day, to be certain.”

And the next day, after another wonderful walk home with you, the Time Lord comes skipping through the Tardis doors with another beaming grin. 

“Well, there’s no way he would come back the day after I threatened to remove him from the planet, and I can't leave her so suddenly without an explanation! I owe her that, at least.”

But he is only justifying the continuation down this path to himself, the Tardis holds no opposition to what would usually cause her and the fabric of reality a great deal of stress.

Before he knows it, the Doctor has done the impossible: he has lived a normal week in normal human time. He knows that without you, he never could have done such a thing. To be honest, even if he had been with you as he was before, he would have struggled with this. Having lost you and lived without you in the way that he has, he has never wished more for the most mundane parts of a life with you. All the time spent running with you at his side, facing varying degrees of danger head on, running on adrenaline and saving planet after planet - it was only when he lost you that he realized in doing all of that, he barely had the time to just walk with you. Talk about your day, the weather, your friends, the gossip about town, the slow passing of an evening instead of cramming a month’s worth of adventures into a week of traveling and then dropping you back into your normal life on the same day you’d left it. How you adjusted to both, how you effectively gave up on the life you had here, the one he has now been blessed enough to live with you, he will never know.

And on the last night of the working week, when the two of you share a look that acknowledges the fact you won’t see each other again until Monday, and you invite him into your home for a cup of tea, the Doctor feels a piece of his hearts slot back into place.

Stepping into your home, without the souvenirs and paintings from your travels with the Doctor filling every empty space, only seeing pieces of you everywhere, your ornaments and trinkets and chosen wall art - all of it sings your name to him like a prayer. It is strange, to step into someone’s home for the first time and feel a sense of nostalgia. Something feels wrong, still, but the Time Lord allows himself to be blinded by everything that feels right, the constant comfort that he feels in your presence, the peace you bring his ancient mind. Just once, he feels he is allowed to ignore the nagging in his brain. The universe can let him have this, just for a little while longer.

Having made the Doctor the best cup of tea he has ever had - simply because it is you that has made it - you inform him it is against your code of conduct to stay in your work clothes once you have returned home, and rapidly ascend the stairs, leaving the Time Lord sitting in your living room in a lovesick daze. And when you re-enter the room in the coziest looking pajamas he has ever seen, the Doctor is absolutely certain that the look in his eyes tells you loud and clear, he would do anything for you. 

Flopping down on the sofa beside him, you kick your feet up on the plush footstool ahead of you. “So, Friday night, what are we saying - takeaway and a film?”

You could have asked him to marry you and the question would have sounded just as heavenly. The Doctor nods frantically, grinning after you as you briefly exit the room again and return with a box full of paper menus for various takeaway places, asking him to pick while you choose a film that you say he has to see at least once in his life. He pretends to deliberate, his eyes fixed on you as you dig through your stacks of DVD’s, but he knows that he’s going to choose your favorite takeaway and you’re going to put on your favorite film, which he has watched with you a number of times before, but cannot wait to watch again for the first time.

In the post-takeaway bloat, the Doctor has discarded his tweed jacket and bowtie, and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, while you have simply shifted your position to be snuggled into his side with your head against his chest. The two of you are snuggled under a fluffy blanket, watching your favorite movie in silence, save for your choice commentary over your favorite scenes. With your ear pressed against his chest, the Doctor wonders how you haven’t made a point of his irregular sounding heartbeats. While you have acknowledged it in your own head, something about it feels normal to you, preventing you from having any kind of reaction beyond being comforted by its sound. 

And never before has the Time Lord wished to be stuck in a time loop more. If the only way he could live this day, everyday, for the rest of time, would be to play it out over and over again, he would never complain about a thing. If his moral compass had a gray area that was just a little larger, he could let his Tardis being here cause a fracture in the fabric of reality with any number of consequences, if it meant he could stay here with you. But above all else, the Doctor wishes he could have a silly little job to complain about, that everyday he could come home to your little house, cook and eat dinner with you at your dining table, laugh about the days you’ve had and yours plans for the next ones, then snuggle up on the sofa in your pajamas to watch your favorite shows until you were tired enough to go to sleep. And every night, he would carry you up to bed, looking down at your sleeping face and planning each and every night how he’d ask you to marry him someday soon.

It isn’t until you feel a droplet against your head and sit up to face him that the Doctor realizes he desires that life so strongly it has reduced him to tears. 

“Doctor? What’s wrong?!” 

The care in your voice, the way he can tell you already feel for him, the bond you have automatically slipped back into without even trying. He has made an imprint on your life again, he couldn’t help it. He was here to save you just one more time, to set things right so that he and his time machine could grieve and carry on, that was his purpose here, but he has gone too far. There is no logical way that he can leave unnoticed and in any which way he left you now, he would hurt you. While it would only be a fraction of the agony he has lived in without you, he cannot bring himself to hurt you in any capacity, not again. 

“I have to show you something.” The Doctor tells you, standing up from the sofa and taking your hand, grabbing his jacket with the other and leading you to your front door. 

It is silent as you step into a pair of slippers big enough to fit your fluffy socks in, staring up at the Doctor in confusion and concern, and it is silent as the two of you walk the short distance between your house and his police box. 

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor pushes open the door and gently tugs you inside. Your legs falter behind him and he turns to face you, seeing an exact replay of the shock and wonder in your eyes as he did on the first occasion he brought you here. But there isn’t time, not anymore.

“Not a policeman, a time traveller. This is my ship, it’s bigger on the inside.” With your hand still in his, the ancient god rushes through the necessary clarifications as he leads you through the main control room, down a flight of stairs, and to the door that he previously couldn’t bear looking at, that the Tardis had moved closer to the main control room than it had ever been before.

The Doctor’s other hand is shaking as he reaches for the handle, but he cannot delay this any longer. He has gone too far.

Turning the handle dowards, he pushes the door open, the gesture weak but taking everything from him, his arm falling limp at his side. The room glows at your arrival, the Tardis sensing your return and greeting you in a warm smile. And despite the overwhelming strangeness of it all, you manage a small smile back at her. 

The Doctor feels your hand slip away from his as you cautiously step into the room, while he feels an invisible barrier denying him entry. After everything, he does not deserve the right to stand in there with you.

“This universe is not the only one.” He begins, voice light as he focuses on telling you a story, providing an explanation of what came first, forcing himself to forget what came after until he has no choice but to tell you that, too. “There is an ever expanding number of galaxies and worlds out there in this universe and others, and time is like…a cabinet, with folders pressed together that are so similar, only those who know them well enough could tear them apart. Parallel worlds.” 

His eyes are fixed to you as you seem to glide around the room, gaze lingering on every trinket you see, until you reach the fireplace to the left of the door. It bursts to life at your presence, flames roaring and firewood crackling, warming your slippers, but you neglect to notice that, otherwise entranced by the photographs that decorate the mantelpiece. Frame after frame, all different sizes, some photographs not framed yet, but placed there still, waiting to be stood with pride amongst the rest. Your own face, and the Doctor’s, smiling back at you in each and every one, with backgrounds of countless different places.

“I was lucky enough to meet you in a world parallel to this one. We…traveled together.” He takes a deep breath, watching you pick up some of the photographs to examine them closer, a confused frown on your face as you stare at them with such intensity. “There are planets safe in the sky, stars that sing songs of that version of you for saving them, even just for visiting them. That version of you was like…a sun, to many a planet, spreading an infectious joy wherever you went…to none more than me.” With a sad smile, his gaze drops to the floor, the line of your doorway that he cannot cross. “I took you from the planet that created you, the stardust from which you were born, and because of me, that world is now without you.” All light drains from the Doctor’s voice then, the weight of his crimes crushing the flicker of his spirit that only you could bring back. “What should have been an easy pit stop on an asteroid became the worst day in existence. It was your birthday- not that you remembered, you hadn’t been living earth days for some time, but you had mentioned how much you enjoyed celebrating and I couldn’t strip you of that human right along with everything else.” As kind as his gesture had been at the time, on reflection it is morbid, cynical and cruel. Everything he did that led you there had grown sour in the absence of you. “I took you to the largest asteroid belt in history, so that we could have a picnic there and you could take another photograph for your collection. But when we arrived…” The Time Lord swallows the lump in his throat, remembering every agonizing second as though it was happening all over again. “Colonizers, that was what they called themselves. A disorganized group of criminals; a broken cyberman and discharged jadoon, among them. They had stolen a vortex tunnel, which in itself was a terrible crime- they thought they could control one but not even Time Lords managed to master them. My history and their anger towards me for it was waiting outside the Tardis doors but because it had been clear when I’d set the picnic up, I didn’t think to scan the perimeter again. I sent you out there first to surprise you, and they-” Trembling fists clench at his sides, closing his eyes in a pained blink before opening them to a grave frown. “They’d already grabbed you and before I could say anything, they’d thrown you inside.”

Having already placed the photographs back on the mantelpiece, you watch the wonder of a man you’ve come to know crumble with shame. 

“What does a vortex tunnel do?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper so as to not upset him further by verbalizing such painful memories for him too loudly.

“Vortex tunnels are a risky means of escape. They pluck you from where you’re standing and send you hurtling across space and time with no definite destination. They could send someone to random coordinates, floating in space, to certain death- there is no way to predict them.” The Doctor answers, keeping his words factual and objective to regain some composure.

“Why would anyone want to use one?” You question gently.

“Desperation. Based on their unpredictability, they are illegal and kept in stasis, but there have been cases of criminals that use them to avoid trial and execution.” He replies.

“Couldn’t outer space police track them down, or something?” You aren’t quite sure you understand the full extent of the events, feeling that certain aspects are missing and it is down to you to piece together what you can while trying to save the Doctor from reliving such pain.

“Vortex tunnels don’t just send you across time and space, they erase your mind entirely. In the highly unlikely case of someone being tracked to where the tunnel had spat them out, they have no memory of their crimes, so cannot be charged for them. The creature that they were, all but ceases to be.” His voice is light again, fragile this time at the thought of the person he had known being erased from existence and left stranded. “There was no way for me to trace you, not even with a psychic link in the Tardis, because the psychic link with you was gone, your mind as we knew it, was gone. The Colonizers jumped into it afterwards, of course, to escape me.” The Doctor rubs his face with his hands, then places a palm against the doorframe. “She’s the reason I’m here. She mourned you so deeply that she ripped a hole in the fabric of reality to bring me to a parallel world, just to save you one last time, to make our last memory something better.” His hand falls to his side. “But I went too far, again. I stayed too long, made too much of an impression on this version of you, your life here. Now, leaving will hurt you, but I can’t take you with me. Not only do I refuse to take you away from the world, the family that is yours a second time, but I cannot replace her. As similar as you are, you are not her, and I know it. Something has felt wrong from the moment I arrived and as much as I’ve tried to ignore it, I can’t anymore-“

“What family?” You interrupt him, stunning him into silence for a moment.

He is so shocked by your question, he manages to meet your eyes for the first time since opening your bedroom door. “Your family, your parents.”

Your brow furrows, expression lost. “I…don’t have parents, Doctor.”

The Time Lord stares at you, dumbfounded. 

And then he’s walking towards you, stepping across the invisible barrier and breaking the distance to stare into your eyes, read what lies beyond them, a stern frown etched in his features. “Yes, you do. As different as parallel worlds can be, if you did not have parents, you would be a very different person. Your mother picked out your living room curtains, your father built the coffee table in there-”

You shake your head, interrupting him again. “Those were both part of the house, they were there when I arrived.”

Too perplexed to continue this interrogation manually, the Doctor takes your hand and all but drags you back to the main control room. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket, he scans your brain and then transfers the data to his monitor, eyes reading the Gallifreyan data displayed over and over again, trying to make sense of it.

“Is there something wrong with me, Doctor?” You ask, beginning to worry based on his expansive knowledge and lack of ability to give you an explanation.

Looking from his monitor to you, he scowls. “Arrived.”

“What?” You question.

“You didn’t say the furniture was there when you moved in, you said it was there when you arrived.” His eyes slowly start to widen. “You saw the Tardis. When we first landed here- she automatically blends in with the world around her, but you saw her. And when I told you to call me the Doctor, you didn’t question it, not once. Despite being introduced to you as John Smith, you never called me that, even in private.” Slow, hesitant steps towards you, as though he’s scared to approach what you could be. “You didn’t question anything, throughout my explanation. Not the time travel, not the Tardis or referring to her as ‘she’, not parallel worlds, not the alien species I referenced, not how we met, the places we’d been- you only started asking questions in the end, about the only things that - out of everything I told you - you didn’t already know.”

His words sink into your skin slowly, your mind finding it much more difficult to digest this information than it had everything else the Doctor has previously told you, and he’s right, all of that should have raised more questions from you.

The Doctor reaches for your hand so slowly, and you don’t know why, but you accept it, instinctively. A small smile blooms on his face, the tiniest glimmer of hope as he looks between you and the Tardis console.

“She wasn’t sick, oh, you sexy thing- that’s how she brought us here, she was tracking you across time and space, pinpointing the anomaly of you, thrown from your own timestream and into another.” He whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to place a kiss against your knuckles. “If we fly away from here, if we go back to your Earth, the timeline will correct itself and you should remember everything- we can’t let this anomaly continue or it could tear apart time and space in some grandiose butterfly effect!” 

And he lets go of your hand to run around the console, pressing buttons and pulling levers with an exhilarated grin on his face, the Tardis whirring with excitement, while you just stand there.

“All this time, I thought she couldn't find you, silly old Doctor! I was slow on the uptake, as usual- I hope the Shadow Proclamation can forgive any ripples in the continuum that follow this, but-”

“Doctor, wait.”

He stops suddenly, the wondrous time machine collapsing into silence. 

“The fact I already trust you as much as I do and don’t feel terrified by this frankly alarming turn of events, suggests you and the Tardis are right, but…remembering an entire life that, as of now, I don’t fully recognise I’ve lived, how will that feel?” For the first time since meeting the Doctor in this world, you are scared at the thought of what comes next.

Understanding your concern, the Doctor returns to you and takes your hands in his. “Quite honestly, I have no idea, I’ve never seen the recovery process from a vortex tunnel. I can only guess that it will feel overwhelming, it could send you to sleep, but whatever happens, I will be right here, and you will be fine. I promise you. I will never risk you again.”

He holds your face in his hands, gaze locked with yours.

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “Okay.”

The Doctor smiles at you. “Keep your eyes on me and reach for the lever on your left, you know the one.”

And like it’s second nature, your hand grabs the very lever he’s referring to, bringing a beaming grin from the Time Lord as you tug it down. 

With a wheeze and a groan, the wonderful time machine lifts into the sky and drags herself out of the parallel world, beginning the journey back to the one you came from. Through the time vortex, your knees buckle, winding you and forcing you to collapse into the Doctor, who holds you against him so tightly, slowly lowering the two of you to the floor to hold you on his lap, arms keeping your body safe as your mind races a mile a minute.

“You can do this, we’re almost there. Come on (Y/N), hold on, for me.” He murmurs into your ear, comforting you through the tears that wrack your body, memories attacking you from every angle. 

Regardless of how happy the majority of those memories are, to experience them all at once and at the same time as all of the sad ones, the painful ones; to feel every emotion you are capable of feeling simultaneously and remembering every instance in which you have felt every one, in a microsecond; a human mind can only cope with so much.

The memories of his smile and laugh overlay every flashing image of every place you’ve been together, every species you’ve encountered, friend you’ve made, planet you’ve explored, until it all fades to black and you are empty again.

Only this time, instead of waking up in a simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar house with a mental block on how you had arrived there and no understanding of who you were beyond the corporate life you led amongst billions of your kind, your eyes flutter open to your home. Sitting in a chair beside your bed, he watches over you, your guardian angel. The delirium with which you scan the room around you, acknowledging the crackling fire and the familiarity of your bedroom on the Tardis, makes you feel as though you have slept a thousand years.

“Doctor? What-”

He interrupts you, gently shushing you. “Rest, (Y/N), you need to rest, please. Recovering and reliving your entire life all at once and in under a minute is not a normal process for anyone, you need to let your mind recover.”

Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you nod at him. “How long have I slept for?”

“Three days.” 

With eyes like a deer in headlights, you sit bolt upright in bed, immediately starting to feel dizzy and the Doctor jumping from his chair to steady you, propping your pillows up behind you.

“Three days?!” 

The Doctor nods. “Yes. Had I thought about this recovery process, I probably would have picked a more comfortable chair.”

Your jaw drops. “Tell me you have not been sitting there for three days straight.”

And the ancient god is silent.

You sigh. “Doctor!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “If I told you I hadn’t been sitting here for three days, that would have been a lie, so I thought it best not to say anything!”

Shaking your head in disbelief at him, you shuffle to the side of your bed that is pressed against the wall. “For goodness’ sake, you ridiculous fool.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed. “Get in here.”

The Doctor’s eyes widen. “Y-You need the space to rest!”

You hold his gaze. “Before getting to the parallel world, how long had it been since you last saw me?”

He avoids your eyes. “I wasn’t keeping count, we were just drifting while she tracked you- it doesn’t matter.”

Frowning, you look up at the ceiling. “Tardis? On the monitor above my bed, can you tell me how much time had passed between my disappearance and the two of you arriving on the parallel world, in Earth days?”

And as always, she is ever so happy to listen to you. The monitor above your bed flickers on, displaying a black screen with a single line of text. 

1096 days, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

Having never been particularly mathematically gifted, you turn back to the Doctor. “...How many years is that?”

But he doesn’t have it in his hearts to tell you, to admit how long he was alone for, how long he and the Tardis grieved for, how long they drifted in space while she searched for you and he tortured himself with the guilt of losing you, the hopelessness of never being able to find you again. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket again, he zaps the monitor above your bed and then returns the tool to his pocket, hanging his head.

Looking back up at the monitor, your eyes fill with tears at the change of text.

3 Years, 1 Day, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

One hand lifts to cover your trembling bottom lip, while the other reaches for his hand.

“Three years?! Doctor, that’s-”

He cuts you off. “If the Tardis hadn't taken flight when she did, it would have been an eternity, I can assure you.”

The Doctor’s words hit you like a train, so suddenly and stopping your heart with a screech before it starts again, spluttering frantically in your chest at the impact. Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you chuckle, in complete disbelief.

“Well, daft old man, you know what that means, don’t you?”

Unable to resist the urge to lift his head and see your smile again, the Doctor meets your eyes. Without realizing it, he starts to smile back at you, silently asking you to continue.

And you do, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go of it to tap the empty space on the mattress beside you again, with a tearful smile that sets both his hearts ablaze.

“I think you need a cuddle just as much as I do.”

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

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

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

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

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

"I said it was beautiful."

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

~ More imagines here ~

[nghtwngs]

silly human traditions

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

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

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 1.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You little humans and all your traditions.”

“You love it.”

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

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

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

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

He just shakes his head. “Nah.”

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

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

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

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

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

Silly human things, you suppose.

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

The very best of humanity, he’d say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? You think so?”

You nod in agreement.

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

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

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

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

“New Year’s kiss?” He frowns.

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

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

You almost choke. “What?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, no harm at all.”

Why can’t your mouth just stay shut sometimes?

You hear the countdown start.

Ten.

He holds your chin between his index finger and thumb.

Nine.

His warm eyes look into yours.

Eight.

You’ve never been touched with such gentleness before.

Seven.

His scent is so clean and warm and so him.

Six.

The proximity is completely dizzying.

Five.

You think you can feel your knees buckle.

Four.

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

Three.

When he’s seen it all.

Two.

A quick glance at your lips.

One.

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

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

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

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

“It is.”

“You’re my first New Year’s kiss.”

“You’re mine.”

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

[undiscovered-horizon]

Eleventh Doctor x insecure/ anxious reader?

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

"Cold feet" - 11th Doctor x Reader

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

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you in love?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Has that ever happened?"

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

"Which part?"

"Panicking in the bathroom."

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

"You never said anything."

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm... not?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[owen-writes]

Goody-Two Shoes

11th Doctor x Gender Neutral Reader

The TARDIS hums softly as it materializes on an alien planet. You step out, the 11th Doctor at your side, his signature bowtie slightly askew.

"Alright, now listen carefully," the Doctor begins, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and concern. "We're here to retrieve the Chrono Crystal. It's in the catacombs beneath that ancient temple over there. Follow my lead, stay close, and, most importantly, don't touch anything."

You nod, eager to prove yourself as a valuable companion. Amy and Rory exchange glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism. The Doctor takes the lead, and you follow his instructions to the letter.

As you traverse the dimly lit catacombs, Amy shoots you a sideways glance. "You're quite the goody two-shoes, aren't you? Always following the Doctor's orders."

You shrug off the comment, focusing on keeping pace with the Time Lord. The Doctor, however, seems pleased with your cooperation. "It's essential to follow instructions in these situations. Trust me, I've had my fair share of companions who thought they knew better."

As the mission progresses, Amy's jabs become more frequent. "Honestly, you're like the Doctor's little lapdog. Can't you think for yourself?"

The remarks sting, and you find yourself growing increasingly self-conscious. Determined to prove you're not as "lame" as Amy suggests, you decide to take matters into your own hands during a crucial moment. Ignoring the Doctor's warnings, you touch a peculiar-looking device, setting off a series of alarms.

The Doctor whirls around, his eyes widening. "What did I just say about touching things?!"

Your rebellious act results in chaos, drawing the attention of hostile creatures. The Doctor, Amy, and Rory engage in a frantic escape, and you realize your attempt to break free from the perceived mold has backfired spectacularly.

Later, in the safety of the TARDIS, the Doctor pulls you aside. "Alright, spill it. What's going on? That's not like you at all."

You sigh, feeling the weight of Amy's disapproval on your shoulders. "I just wanted to prove I could be more than the obedient one. Amy thinks I'm boring, and I don't want to drag the group down."

The Doctor looks at you with a mix of understanding and amusement. "Ah, Amy. She has a way with words, doesn't she? But you don't need to change who you are to impress anyone. I value you for being yourself."

Surprised by his sincerity, you open up about your insecurities. The Doctor listens intently, his expression softening. "You're not a lapdog or boring. You're reliable, and that's a rare quality. Trust me; I've traveled with all sorts. I chose you because I see something special in you."

Over the following adventures, the Doctor makes an effort to involve you more in decision-making, showcasing your unique strengths. Amy, while still a bit skeptical, begins to appreciate your contributions. As the TARDIS hurtles through time and space, you find solace in the fact that the Doctor values you not for your rebellious acts but for the person you are.

[storiesforallfandoms]

looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor;doctor who

word count: 3736

request?: no

description: after travelling to medieval times, a flirtatious king takes interest in the doctor’s companion, and the doctor is a little jealous

pairing: eleventh doctor x female!reader

warnings: swearing, jealousy, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

“I hate when you don’t tell me where we’re going,” (Y/N) muttered as the TARDIS lurched again. “I always feel like I need to prepare for whatever is going to happen.”

“You don’t need to prepare for anything this time,” the Doctor insisted. “Just let me surprise you, we’ll have fun!”

“Remember last time you said you would surprise me with fun? We ended up surrounded by Daleks and narrowly escaping their attacks.”

The Doctor moved away from the controls and cupped (Y/N)’s face. “This one will be a fun surprise. I promise.”

He kissed the top of her head, then went back to the controls. (Y/N) wanted to argue further, but she knew there was no use. The Doctor had a very different definition of “fun” than most, and it was nearly impossible to convince him when he was wrong. And she had to admit, the Doctor never went looking for trouble. Trouble just found him. Besides all that, it was also just impossible to argue with the Doctor when he was showing her affection, which they were both well aware of.

She braced as the TARDIS began making a noise that indicated they would be landing soon. As usual, the TARDIS landed with a rough thud and would’ve thrown the two of them to the ground if they hadn’t been prepared. The Doctor was smiling his big, goofy smile as he rushed to the door and threw it open with a flourish. (Y/N) looked around him at where they were supposed to be. “A forest?”

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around. “I could’ve swore I had our coordinates to land at the castle.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “Castle?! You were planning to crash land in front of a castle?!”

“Well, I wasn’t planning to crash land. But, the surprise is ruined now, so yes. I brought up back to medieval times so you could see a real castle, and real knights. Maybe even a king or a queen.”

She walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That’s so sweet, if not a little scary because I’m sure we would’ve been thrown into a dungeon if we crashed that close to the castle.”

The Doctor chuckled and put his arms around her waist. he was pulling her in for a kiss when they both heard something. They paused to listen. It sounded like heavy thumping against the ground, slowly getting louder and closer. They were pulling away from each other just as a group of men in metal suits of amour, some riding horses, broke through the trees and into the clearing where (Y/N) and the Doctor landed.

Knights.

Knights with pointy weapons aimed at them.

The Doctor pulled (Y/N) close to him, protectively. “Gentlemen, we mean no harm.”

“Who are you?” the lead knight demanded.

“I am the Doctor. This is my...associate, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Years of dating (exactly how many years was still a bit wonky because of timey wimey stuff), and the Doctor was still weird about calling her his girlfriend.

“We’ve come to visit your beautiful land,” the Doctor explained.

“We heard sounds like an explosion,” the knight said, eying the two of them suspiciously.

“That was just...our...carriage?”

The knights shared a look before the lead said, “You’re coming with us to the king.”

Two knights tried to approach to take them, but they assured the knights they’d come willingly. (Y/N) bit her tongue to keep in an “I told you so”. She knew this wasn’t what the Doctor had planned, but it really did just prove her point that there was never an uneventful tried with him.

The two of them were marched to a castle that wasn’t too far from where they had landed. (Y/N) marveled at it as they got closer. It looked exactly like the castles from fairy tales and medieval shows and movies. It was huge with a moat around it. The drawbridge lowered as they got closer, someone obviously watching for their arrival. The group led the two inside, but only three knights ended up bringing them to the king.

He was a younger looking man, surprisingly. (Y/N) was assuming he was going to be an old man, but he was close to her age, and quite handsome. He looked down at them as they approached. When they stopped, he was still watching them, expectantly. It took the Doctor a moment to realize what he was waiting for. “Oh! Bow!”

They moved simultaneously to bow.

“Who are you?” asked the king.

“I am the Doctor, this is (Y/N).”

He raised an eyebrow. “You are a doctor?”

“Well, no. It’s like a...um...a stage name!” The king still looked suspicious. The Doctor turned to (Y/N) as if looking for backup, but she looked just as confused. “We are traveling...magicians. That’s why we have such funny looking clothes, and the loud noise you heard before. We were, um, practicing a trick! Went a bit wrong. We sincerely apologize.”

The king’s gaze turned to (Y/N). His expression seemed to soften greatly when he did, which definitely did not go unnoticed by the Doctor.

“Is this true, my lady?” he asked. “Are you two magicians?”

She nodded quickly.

“We were traveling to see your lovely castle,” the Doctor explained.

The flattery seemed to work, on top of the presence of a beautiful lady, the Doctor was sure.

The king stood from his throne. “It seems there has been a misunderstanding, then. I would like to apologize and offer you both lodgings in the castle for the night.”

The Doctor looked over at (Y/N). Her eyes were shining with excitement at the offer. As much as he wanted to say no and leave, he couldn’t when she looked like that. He plastered on a smile and agreed. The answer delighted the king, who stepped down from his throne to shake their hands. He grasped (Y/N)’s hand very warmly. Even she seemed startled by the gesture.

“My name is King Harold Evergreen,” he said, to both of them but definitely mainly to (Y/N). “I am honored to have you both here.”

~~~~~~

(Y/N) was still marveling at everything hours later. They were shown to the room they would be staying in, which was huge as well. She only got glimpses of the halls and other rooms as they were guided to their room, but King Harold promised an actual tour later on. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a fairytale.

The Doctor, however, was not taken with everything. He had been at first, until they had met the king, and until the king started to show clear interest in (Y/N).

There hadn’t been many times when the Doctor felt such strong feelings of jealousy. Mainly because he never expected for any of his companions to be around for long. Something always happened that made him lose his companions eventually. He always told himself not to get too close or else he’d end up hurt again, and every time he was right. But (Y/N) had stuck around. He let himself get close; he let himself fall in love. And she was still here with him years later.

So, yeah, he didn’t love that a king was taking interest in the woman he loved.

(Y/N) looked over at him. While she was taking it all in, he was sat on the bed with an expression that could only be classified as a pout. She giggled and moved towards the bed. She climbed onto it - literally since the bed was so high up.

“Geez, you could fit, like, ten people in this,” she said. When the Doctor didn’t so much as crack a smile, she poked his side. “Awe, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted to see the castle.”

“I did,” he said. “But now we’ve seen it, and I think we should leave.”

“We can leave in the morning. When will we get the chance to stay in a castle again?”

“We could try again in a few years, when King Harold already has a wife.”

He muttered it, but (Y/N) heard it. An amused smile crossed on her face as she moved closer to him.

“Is someone jealous?” she asked.

The Doctor scoffed. “No, of course not.”

“No, totally. You’re just here literally pouting and being broody because that’s what you do. Of course.” She sat next to him and leaned in so her shoulder was touching his shoulder. “You don’t need to be jealous, you know. We won’t be here for long anyways, and I’m sure his interest in me is just because I am a woman he hasn’t met yet. I’m sure he’s already betrothed to marry someone.”

“Not all kingdoms did betrothals. There were plenty of instances in history where the king was allowed to court whatever woman he wanted and propose to her.”

“Then I’m sure that’s what he’s already done. From what little I know of history, kings his age are supposed to be popping out heirs by now. He probably has a fiancée, and the second we leave he’ll have forgotten about me completely.”

A knock came at the door. (Y/N) got up from the bed and went to open it. Stood there was one of the castle’s maidens with something large in her hands. She curtsied to them both, which caused them to share a look that was a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Hello, lady (Y/N),” the young woman said. “King Harold has requested I bring this to you. He says he would like for you to wear it when you join him for dinner tonight.”

She passed the object she was holding to (Y/N). As (Y/N) took it, she realized it was a dress. A big, poofy, princess looking dress. If the fabric had been blue or yellow, it would have looked exactly like Cinderella or Belle’s dress. Before (Y/N) could ask anything, the maiden had left. (Y/N) nudged the door closed with her foot and turned back to the Doctor, who looked positively fuming.

“He’ll forget about you completely, hm?” he said.

There was no arguing this time. He had sent her a beautiful gown, and made sure she knew he expected to see her at dinner, but there was no mention of the Doctor joining them. Of course, he was going to anyways, but it was hard to ignore the fact that King Harold was making it very clear that while the Doctor was a guest of the castle, (Y/N) was his guest.

~~~~~~

(Y/N) almost refused to wear the dress, but the Doctor convinced her it would be best to put it on.

“You don’t want to offend him in his own castle,” he reminded her.

Upon seeing her in the dress, the Doctor was able to set aside his jealousy for a moment. She looked absolutely beautiful in it; like a princess. Even though she was trying to hide her delight for the sake of the Doctor’s feelings, he could see that she was ecstatic to be wearing something so beautiful.

He took her hands in his and pulled her close to him. “You look wonderful, my love.”

She beamed at him. “Thank you. Do you think we’d be able to sneak this out tomorrow morning?”

The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. While he would rather not carry around the reminder of another man trying to woo her, if (Y/N) wanted to keep the dress, he would make sure they kept it.

Another knock came at the door. (Y/N) moved to answer it again, expecting it to be another maiden. She was surprised to see King Harold stood there instead.

“Your highness,” she said, quickly bowing before she could forget herself.

“No need for that,” King Harold told her. “You are here as my guest. No more need for formalities. I just came to see if you got the present I sent for you.” His eyes wandered over her in a way that made the Doctor’s hands curl into fists. “I see I have gotten my answer.”

“Yes, it’s very lovely. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad it fit. We have so much clothes laying around the castle from former kings and queens, I was sure there would be something to fit you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide. “This...this belonged to...to a queen?”

“My great grandmother, in fact. The first woman to rule the kingdom on her own. She was near the end of her reign before she met my grandfather, a widower with four children. She married him and took in my grandfather and his siblings.”

It was a lot to process. She was wearing the gown of a former queen. A queen who ruled the country on her own, at a time where that was likely unheard of. She knew the dress had to belong to someone in the castle, but she never even entertained the idea that it belonged to one of King Harold’s ancestors.

She wanted to turn and face the Doctor to share her disbelief with him, but King Harold offered her an arm before she could. “Shall I give you that tour I promised? Dinner will be ready soon, but there is plenty to see between here and the dining hall.”

(Y/N) wasn’t thinking when she accepted the king’s arm. But the Doctor certainly was. He glared at their connected arms as King Harold led (Y/N) from the room. Neither of them had invited the Doctor to come along, but he did anyways. He wasn’t about to leave the two of them alone when it was very clear that King Harold had intentions to make (Y/N) stay in the castle forever.

The king was right in saying there was plenty to see between their room and the dining hall alone. Every hallways was lined with portraits of King Harold’s ancestors. There were official portraits of the rulers themselves, then family portraits of them with their spouses and children. There were many of just the children as well, some looking very professional and some that were obviously painted while the children were at play. King Harold made sure to stop at the pictures of him with his parents.

“I am an only child,” he told (Y/N). “It was very rare. My father had seven siblings himself. And it did not happen due to a lack of trying. Many say that my parents were just not lucky enough to be blessed with a big family.”

There were a number of more health related explanations on the tip of (Y/N)’s tongue, but she knew that was all modern stuff that the king would never understand now.

They finally made it to the dining hall. Just like everything else in the castle, it was a giant room. Probably just as big as the throne room they had been brought into when they first arrived. The table was big enough to seat at least a dozen people, and there was a large stone fireplace set up behind one of the heads of the table - King Harold’s seat, if (Y/N) had to guess. The table was set just for the three of them, with (Y/N) and the Doctor seated across from each other, King Harold in the middle at the head.

I suppose that’s better than being seated on the other end, the Doctor thought to himself.

They took their seats as food was brought into the room. (Y/N) had some struggles to sit, but finally figured out how to arrange the poof of her dress so she could sit comfortably without it being up in her face.

“Are we the only ones dining?” she asked.

“We are the only ones here, besides my staff,” the king responded.

“Your parents aren’t here? Or...or a wife?”

King Harold let out a booming laugh. “No, my parents no longer live here since my father stepped down from being king. That is another rarity, but I would much prefer them to step back and enjoy their older years as opposed to running themselves to death like other rulers usually do. And there is no queen currently. I had yet to pick someone to be my betrothed.”

(Y/N) glanced up at the Doctor. They both noticed King Harold’s choice of word: had.

The meal went on in silence. Or rather, in silence from (Y/N) and the Doctor. King Harold spoke plenty about himself and the history of the land. (Y/N) listened politely, while the Doctor continued to stab at his food.

“Tell me, how does one get into the business of magic?” Harold asked after a while. “It cannot be a profitable line of work for the two of you.”

“Oh...um...” (Y/N) started, trying to come up with a convincible story. “I believe it was the Doctor first who found out he was able to do small tricks. He...well, he met me and I was intrigued enough to follow him in his...journeys.”

The Doctor looked up at (Y/N) and they shared a small smile.

“Yes, but is it truly a fulfilling life?” King Harold asked again.

“I believe so. I have traveled to so many wonderful places that I never would’ve gotten to experience had I not met the Doctor,” (Y/N) said. Quickly she added, “And doing magic, of course. That’s...that’s always...fulfilling.”

“But do you believe you could be happy doing something else? Something more than being the assistant to a traveling magician?”

(Y/N) didn’t like where this was going.

When she didn’t speak, King Harold continued. “See, I have been looking for many years for someone to rule this kingdom by my side. I have met countless princesses and duchesses from other kingdoms, I have met common women from the town, but no one has caught my eye just yet. I am getting to an age where my time to find a wife and to have children of my own is starting to run short, but I am not one to marry just because it is expected of me. I want to marry for love, the way my great grandmother did.”

When King Harold reached for her hand, (Y/N) was too stunned to stop him.

“I believe you would make a perfect queen for this land, my lady,” he said. He started to raise (Y/N)’s hand to his lips when the Doctor suddenly stood, knocking his chair over and the crash putting an end to the moment.

“We’re leaving,” the Doctor said to (Y/N).

“I beg your pardon?” King Harold said.

“I will not stay in this castle for another second and watch you try to proposition my girlfriend.”

“Your what?”

“My love! She is my princess, or queen, or whatever you want to call her.” The Doctor moved around the table to take (Y/N)’s hand and pull her from her seat. “We’re going.”

(Y/N) was nervous that the king would send his guards after them, or at least he would send them after the Doctor and take him away so that King Harold could make her his queen without distraction. To her surprise, he called for someone to show them out. When she looked back at him as they rushed out the door, he seemed genuinely upset for them to go.

The Doctor led (Y/N) through the woods, which had gotten much darker during their time in the castle, and found the TARDIS with ease. He rushed both of them into it and slammed the door behind him. He was muttering to himself, cursing the king and calling him all sorts of names that would’ve gotten his head chopped off if he had said it while they were still in the castle.

After the shock had finally wore off, (Y/N) found control of her body again. She approached the Doctor and put a hand on his shoulder. He instantly fell silent and looked at her.

“I would never say yes,” she said.

“What?”

“To his proposition. I hope you know I would never have said yes to him.”

The Doctor was silent. He looked away from her to face the controls. She realized then that it wasn’t just jealousy that he was feeling.

“Were you worried I would’ve said yes and married him?” she asked.

He didn’t speak at first, but finally he said, “He gave you beautiful clothing, he gave you his undying attention, and he would’ve given you a title that anyone could ever dream of. He could’ve made you a fairytale princess.”

“But he is not you,” (Y/N) said. “Why would I want to spend my life with a man I only just met just because of what physical things he could give me? That is not love. Love is following a man in a bowtie into a police box and letting him take you anywhere in time and space for many years. Love is the willingness to do that again and again and again, because you can’t imagine a life without him anymore.”

There were tears welling up in the Doctor’s eyes. He quickly pulled (Y/N) into an embrace, causing her to laugh as she rested against him.

“I love you,” she said, her voice partially muffled by his tweed jacket.

“I love you, too,” he said.

“And, for the record, maybe you should start calling me your girlfriend when we meet new people. That way they won’t get the wrong idea going forward.”

The Doctor chuckled and pulled away to nod. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

She pulled him in for a kiss.

As they were finally coming down from the high that the trip had brought them, she realized that she was still wearing the dress from King Harold.

“I told you I would figure out a way for you to keep it,” the Doctor said, with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Yeah, all it took was you risking life in a medieval prison,” she teased.

“The things we do for love.”

[multific]

Portraits

11th Doctor x Reader

Summary: The Doctor was never meant to see your drawings, sketches and paintings.

You loved to draw and paint ever since you were born.

You loved paintings and art as a whole. 

You always wanted to meet with the great painters of the past, Monét being one of your favourites.

But now, you had a different hobby. 

You longed for adventure and the thrill of it all.

So, being a companion of the Doctor came naturally.

He was a very understanding and kind soul.

He even made a room for you where you could paint and draw in between adventures.

He would be out there, doing something with the TARDIS while you were in your room, drawing, sketching or painting.

You not only had a new companion and hobby but a muse. 

You found the Doctor to be beautiful and soon you realized your mindless sketches were all about him.

In the beginning, it was the places he took you to.

Then it was just Him.

Nothing else but him.

How you remembered him when the sun was shining on his face. One smile he offered you that morning.

And soon, your art room got filled with him. His face littered the walls and the floor. He was everywhere.

And suddenly you became extremely grateful that he didn't enter your room. Ever. 

He said it is your space and he never ever opened the door. 

And he didn't need to.

After a particularly sticky adventure, you went to your room to shower and wash your hair.

Little did you know that TARDIS opened the door to the Chamber of Secrets. To your Chamber of Secrets. 

The Doctor was on his way back from his own shower when he found the door open a little. He thought it was weird since you always close it.

As he knocked and called out, the door opened further, revealing what was inside.

He looked around and at all the sketches of him, and not only him, but the one before him. He looked... beautiful. You made him look beautiful.

A particular painting caught his eye. 

He immediately recognized the place, he took you to a planet which was filled with flowers and meadows. And there it was, him sitting on a blanket in the middle of it all. 

"Doctor?" he heard you call but he couldn't move. "Why are you in here?!" you asked as you rushed in. "You said you wouldn't come in here."

"The door was open." he pointed at the door but never took his eyes off of the painting. "Is this really how you see me?" 

"I-I-"

"You make me look so beautiful. I truly don't deserve to look so nice." his eyes caught once more the pile. The pile which was all of his previous reincarnations. 

"It is how I see you." you walked over and pulled out a picture of him standing next to a Dalek. "I don't remember what you told me that day. But I knew I will have to paint it. To me, you are beautiful."

The Doctor, for once in his life was speechless. He could see your heart was in front of him in a platter and he didn't want to break it, even if he knew he should, he couldn't. He loved you for way too long. And to hear you loved him the same. To see you loved him the same.

"I am not a good painter, but I wish I could paint such beautiful portraits about you. You are so much more beautiful than I am." 

"Please don't give me hope if you are going to end up leaving me."

"I will never leave you."

You looked at him and smiled at him. The tone of his voice, the promise in his words spoke louder than ever. 

"I won't leave you either." you said and it was a promise you meant to keep.

He walked over to you and hugged you. He finally felt full. Both of his hearts, filled with you.

"I do wish to draw something different though."

"Oh?" he pulled back a little and looked down at you. He smiled as he was waiting for you to explain.

"A... nude." you whispered as he suddenly pulled back.

"Very funny! Very funny, Y/N!" you noticed how red his neck and face got as he backed away and out of the room. 

You smiled as you heard him walk away quickly.

You knew that one way or another, you will get your drawing, since you already got the man himself.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[thekirbishow]

GVF is in my city tonight and I’m so sad I can’t go.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Star-Crossed (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader (fluff/angst)

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

EVERYTHING: @winchxters

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

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

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

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

"Tell us, is he a good kisser?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[shuichiakainx]

Matt in New York🗽

[yeehawbrothers]

Inverted PB&J-11th Doctor x Fem! reader

I'm alive guys.

This was a request from a lovely fellow 11th lover, I wrote it platonically, but if you ignore a few words it could be romantic. I also wrote the reader as American, just because I am. (I also zoned out while writing this and do not remember most of it)

“Do you think it could be considered a federal crime to eat inverted peanut butter and jelly?” She asked, hands covered in grease, sparks flying almost catching her hair on fire, and her best friend beside her, in the same state. “Inverted?” He looked up from the wires in his hands, his grease and dirt covered face, also covered in confusion. “Yeah like,” an explosion of sparks behind her interrupted her statement, before she spun around and used her sonic to tame it momentarily. “If you put the peanut butter and jelly on the bread normally, right? And then instead of putting them like, face to face, you turned them outward.” She stared at him as he seemed to process her words. “Oh, yeah. That’s absolutely a crime” he nodded, as they both went back to what they were doing. 

Behind them, Amy and Rory stared at them in question, before turning to each other with faces of pure bewilderment. 

Amy slowly stood and walked towards the two timelords, crouched under the ball of wires. “Inverted peanut butter and jelly? Where on earth did that come from?” A shot of sparks erupted in the timelords face as she stopped her work momentarily, the metaphorical cogs in her mind visibly turning. “Boston, I think. In like, 1901.” She said, with a small smile. “What?” She tilted her head slightly, “You asked where peanut butter and jelly came from, Boston. In the early 1900s.” She paused, “But if you’re asking about inverted peanut butter and jelly, I don’t know that. I’ll find to find out though.” She turned back to her work, as Amy shook her head and walked back to where Rory was sitting watching the scene unfold. 

“What was that about?” Rory said as he watched his wife flop down on the makeshift bench beside him. “Who knows.” They turned back to watch the two timelords who were now bickering over the wire placement, before all went silent as the lights flickered and a pounding was heard on the metal doors. The two timelords looked towards the door, before turning to each other and immediately standing up. The Doctor began quickly scanning the room as his right-hand woman ran to where Amy and Rory sat. “Hey so, we should probably start running.” As if on que, the metal doors flew off the hinges into the room. “Right, let’s go.” The Doctor ran over, grabbing her hand as they began to run down the hall to the Tardis.

 They stopped, allowing their two companions to run ahead into the welcoming blue doors of the tardis. The Doctor lightly pushed her ahead of him into the box, running in last and slamming the doors behind him. The two ran up to the main console and began flicking switches and pulling levers causing the Tardis to take off with a violent shake, before stilling. “wow that was-“ Amy began, before getting cut off by a certain timelord.

 “Why would you use the purple wire for the highest current?” The Doctor froze, looking over at his companion. “Well I-“ The Doctor began stuttering over his words. “No, seriously. It only had the capacity for 5 voltage, and it was running at 25. No wonder the doors were faulty.” She stood, hands on her hips staring him down. “Well if YOU,” he pointed at her, shaking his finger, “Hadn’t gone off about inverted peanut butter and jelly-“ She gasped, “Do NOT blame me Mr.! That was an incredibly valid question. Right?” She turned to the two humans watching the scene unfold. “Well-“ Rory started. “Don’t get them involved!” The Doctor said, “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. Because everyone knows peanut butter and butter is better anyways.” She stomped her foot in detest, “You take that back!” He shook his head, crossing his arms as he looked down at her. “You’re the British one, eating beans on toast or whatever it is, so you have absolutely no credibility on what’s good.” He gasped lightly, “EXCUSE ME? The British one???” She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, I got lucky and am a proud American.” She stood in a fake salute. 

“Listen,” Her hand coming to rest by her side, “All I’m saying is one fried Oreo will change your life.” His tongue stuck out in disgust as he considered the notion. “You American’s and your fried stuff. It’s so unhealthy for you.” She scoffed, “At least we don’t eat like we have no access to real food.” They stood like that for a moment, in a standoff of sorts, the Doctors face one of disgust, and hers smug as could be. Before bursting out in laughter and pulling each other into a tight hug. 

When they broke apart, she wacked him upside the head, hearing Amy snicker and watching the Doctor rub his head. “Don’t ever do that again though, I’m doing the wiring next time.” She pointed, hand on her hip. The doctor stood quickly, taking his turn at coming to a false salute. She shoved him jokingly, before turning back towards the console. “SO. Where to now?” The doctor thought for a moment before running around the console causing the TARDIS to shake and launch into takeoff. All the passengers grabbed a hold of the metal bars circling the console. “I know this amazing place in the Amedromia galaxy! Its- WHOA WHOA WHOA” He was interrupted quickly. “You know I’m banned.” 

Silence fell among the Tardis, “Your-your banned?” The doctor tilted his head slightly. “Yeahhhhh…. So, I accidently stole this like super important religious piece from one of their temples cause I thought it was a free sample.” The doctors face dropped into one of annoyance, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” She became defensive quickly, “Listen- at least I’M not the one who stole that guy’s eye cause he thought it was a Halloween costume.” “HEY, YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT AGAIN-“ As they both launched into yet another bickering session, Amy and Rory sighed and shook their heads. “Here we go again.”

Thanks for reading, and thanks to @dinofromspac3 for the request. <3

All the love-A.