#eleventh doctor x fem!reader

[holly-the-trash-writer]

Safest Place in the Universe

Eleventh Doctor x Fem! Reader

Written for an Annonymous ask

Synopsis: Y/n wakes up to find that the Doctor fell asleep on her. Which would be normal if Time Lords slept. Upon waking the Doctor explains just how much she means to him.

Word Count: 1,240

A/N: Taking requests for all your Eleven fics!!

Amy had walked into her living room and stopped dead. Her jaw dropped open as she took in the sight in front of her. 

Rory. She had to get Rory. 

She tip-toed back out the door and sprinted upstairs to their bedroom, “Rory!” She hissed. 

“Ah!” Rory tumbled out of bed before jumping up to his feet, “What? What’s happened?” 

Amy squealed, “You really need to see this.” She grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the stairs. 

“Is this really so important that I couldn’t put on trousers?” 

“Yes. Now shush!” She placed a finger to his lips before slowing her steps when they reached the bottom of the stairs. 

The two crept towards the door to the living room and Amy grinned as she pointed around the corner. 

The two peaked around the corner and Rory blinked... and blinked... and blinked. But the view never changed. 

He pulled back and grabbed Amy’s arm, “Is he... sleeping?” 

Amy nodded, “The Doctor. The Doctor, the man who told us that he doesn’t need sleep, is now sleeping. Sleeping on top of Y/n! They’re- They’re-” 

Rory yawned, Cuddling. Which is what we should be doing.” 

“Rory! This is huge! When have we ever seen the Doctor sleep?” 

“Never.” Rory placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards the stairs, “Which is why we should leave him alone.” 

“But-” 

Rory chuckled, “We’re not staying down here so you can watch them sleep.” 

Amy huffed before taking his hands and the two walked back upstairs again. 

- 

Y/n blinked as noise from the hallway started to wake her up. The sound of hushed conversation had filtered in the door and then two sets of steps going back up the stairs. 

Squinting at the brightness of the room, she tried to take in her surroundings. 

Amy and Rory’s house.  Amy and Rory’s living room.  Amy and Rory’s sofa. 

She had fallen asleep on her left arm which was resting on the arm of the sofa. She remembered the Doctor rambling about using wires from different household appliances to do... something to the internet? 

Where was the Doctor? 

She couldn’t see him in the room so she went to get up to look for him. She tried to shift her legs but couldn’t move due to a heavy weight pinning her down. Looking down she saw the exact alien that she was looking for. The Doctor, who was still tangled up in wires, was lying on top of her. Literally. The back of his head was resting against her chest, his right hand had her right hand in a comforting grip at his shoulder while his left arm dangled off the side. His upper body was on top of her legs while his own long legs were dangling off the opposite arm of the sofa. 

At first, she thought he was just thinking but he wasn’t moving and his breathing was even. 

He was sleeping. 

On top of her. 

The Doctor was sleeping while leaning on her. 

Once she realised what she was looking at she relaxed, leaning her head back on her left arm as she smiled down at him. 

Y/n remembered the time he told her that Time Lord’s don’t need as much sleep as humans do. Something about a meditative state for twenty minutes is like an eight-hour sleep for him. Yet, when she looks down at him, he looks like he’s been asleep for a while. Like, proper, human sleep. 

She craned her neck to look down at his face. He looked... peaceful. Which is a word not normally associated with the Doctor. The Doctor always has a permanent crease in his forehead. 

Yet, right now. His face was crease free. He looked just like a regular young man in his twenties. She’s never seen him be so still for so long either. 

Very slowly she moved her left arm and ran her fingers through the Doctor’s hair. Unbelievably soft. He didn’t wake at her actions and she couldn’t help herself but to run her fingers across his forehead. 

He shifted slightly before his eyes snapped open and he startled that much he rolled onto the floor. 

“Doctor?!” Y/n gasped as she leaned forward to look at him sprawled across the floor, “Are you okay?” 

The Doctor’s eyes darted around the room as he tried to figure out where he was. When he realised Y/n was looking down at him he jumped up, “Fine? Of course, I’m fine. I am Mister Fine.” Thinking over that for a second, he shook his head, “No, forget I said that.” 

Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “I thought you said Time Lords don’t sleep.” 

The Doctor didn’t look at her as he starting gathering all the wires and figuring out where the ends were, “We don’t.” 

“But you were.” 

The Doctor sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, trying to wake up. 

Y/n frowned at his reaction, “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping you know.” 

He turned around and gave her a small smile before gently lifting her legs and falling heavily into the seat beside her, placing her legs on his lap. 

Y/n’s eyes widened at his actions, “Doctor?” 

“Time Lord’s don’t sleep, Y/n. But they can.” He smiled as he patted your leg, “When a feeling of absolute safety is over us, we can sleep for hours.” 

He looked at Y/n’s face, she was nodding but she wasn’t fully understanding what he was saying, “Y/n, I haven’t slept in the presence of another person in decades. A possible millennium or two.” 

The realisation of what he meant dawned over her. 

“You- You feel safe here?” 

The Doctor chuckled, “With you.”  

“Me?” 

“Of course, you. Who could I trust more than you?” 

Y/n was speechless so the Doctor continued. 

He gestures to her body, “Your single heartbeat reminds me of and old Gallifreyan lullaby.” 

Y/n smiled and shifted in her seat so she could hold his hand, “Oh? How does it go?” 

The Doctor stared off into the distance as he patted Y/n’s hand, “It’s not one that is sung.” 

“Okay... so what’s it about?” Y/n rests her head against the pillow, waiting for the Doctor’s response. 

“It’s about finding the safest place in the Universe.” 

Y/n played with the Doctor’s fingers, “Okay. Where is it?” 

The Doctor smiled, lifting up his arm so Y/n could switch positions and curl up into him, putting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his middle under his jacket. 

“It says that there is one heart out there for everyone.” 

Y/n giggled and nudged him, “Or two in some cases.” 

The Doctor chuckled, “The hearts are drawn to each other. Always trying to find each other. When you come together the connection will be so strong that you’ll wonder if you ever really loved before them. They don’t conform to the rules of time or space and in their arms, you will find the safest place in the universe.” 

Y/n unwrapped herself out of the Doctor’s arms so she could sit up and look at his face. 

“I never found my safest place until now." He grinned at her before pulling her into his chest for a hug, wrapping one arm securely around her back and his other hand wrapped into her hair, pushing his face into her shoulder he took a deep breath before whispering, "I found it with you.” 

[redskull199987]

Happy Tears

11th Doctor x fem!reader Word Count:1.7k Warnings:none at all, all fluffy. This is set in the first episode of season 7, so also no spoilers Summary:You knew that the Doctor was alive. Not only because you refused to believe that he was dead, but also because River told you that he wasn’t. The only question was, If he would return… Masterlist

The Doctor didn’t plan on returning. He really didn’t. He thought it would be safer for them. For Amy and Rory. And for you. He believed that it was his duty to protect his friends. And he did that in keeping his distance.

But were you really just a friend? Was that really all you were to him? He remembered the day he met you, as if it were yesterday. When he still had another face. Just a young girl with a pure heart and no idea whatsoever to do with her life. And the Doctor just came along and swooped you away. Quite literally, as he had to save you from an exploding building. It always made him smile, when he remembered with how much confidence you jumped off that roof and into his Tardis. 

And he was there to catch you. He would always be there to catch you. He knew that and so did you. 

In fact, the Doctor was embarrassingly aware of how often he looked after you, visiting you without telling you, just admiring you from afar and making sure, that you were safe. He sometimes even saw you with the Ponds. On coffee dates with Amy or cruising around with Rory in his new Car. 

Or simply just for Christmas Dinner. 

And that was exactly what brought him back. Christmas Dinner. He wasn’t sure if this really was the right choice, but he knew he had to try. To at least keep in contact with you. Who knows, maybe even take you on an adventure or two. 

His two hearts were beating rapidly, as he made his way out of the Tardis. The dark Blue front door of the Ponds immediately catching his attention. And he was about to go knock, when he decided to look back at the Tardis one last time, pondering if he should leave again. But what he saw instead, caused his breathing to stagger for a second.

There you were. Just walking down the street, probably on your way to the Ponds. Just like the Doctor. He slowly walked back onto the street again and took in your appearance. A big fluffy coat covered most of your body. He could barely see your black boots underneath it. He couldn’t prevent the chuckle that left his lips, as he realized that you were wearing a long multi-colored scarf that was tightly wrapped around you. Your gaze was directed to the floor, while you slowly walked towards him. A pair of big headphones sat atop of your head, which was probably the reason why you didn’t see him yet. 

The Doctor just stood there for a few seconds, enjoying this moment. The knowledge, that you would see him in a few moments and sprint towards him, probably with tears in your eyes, as he could finally hug you again. Feel your body against his, hear your sweet voice again. Oh and your eyes, your big curious eyes would finally look at him, with the most adoration, he had ever felt in his life. 

It seemed that the doctor got too caught up in his thoughts of you. Only when you called out to him, he snapped back into reality.

“Doctor?”, You asked nervously, your voice breaking slightly.

But the Doctor didn’t say a word, he only smiled at you and opened his arms. And as he predicted, You immediately ran towards him and when your body collided with his, it almost took him off his feet. But after a few seconds, he managed to find his footing again. The smile on his lips only got bigger, as he heard your relived chuckle, while you held onto him tightly. 

After a few moments of intensely hugging each other, the two of you finally parted again. The Doctor looked down at you, his smile bigger than ever and his eyes practically glowing. His hands were still laying on top of your shoulders. He finally had you back. After all this time of traveling alone, he finally had you back.

“Hello? Earth to Timelord?!”, you suddenly said, waving a hand in front of his face, startling him slightly. You could only chuckle at his reaction:”You haven’t changed a bit, Doctor.”

“Is that good or bad?”, he asked curiously. You could hear a bit of nervousness lingering in his voice, while his gaze slowly drifted from your eyes to your lips.

“Oh Doctor.”, You chided, your hand rising to grasp his cheek,”No matter how much you change, you’ll always be my Doctor.”

All of a sudden, the Doctor seemed to find his confidence again and a smirk appeared on his face:”Your Doctor?”

“Ehm, I-I mean…”, you stuttered helplessly, looking down while you felt heat creeping up your neck and all the way to your cheeks,”You know what I mean, Doctor.”

“Do I now?”, he teased further. But your breath stocked, as he suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand back to rest on his cheek. You looked back up at him, confusion written all over your face.

“I do.”, he finally said, after a few seconds of Silence. A content smile graced his features, while he slowly leaned closer to you:”The Question is, do you?”

His words were hushed and gentle, only for you to hear. His gaze was focused on your lips only and it seemed like he waited for permission.

“I do.”

That was all he needed. He pressed his lips against yours tenderly. Almost afraid that you would push him away again. But you didn’t. On the contrary, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, while you deepened the kiss.

The Doctor, a bit surprised by your reaction, wildy waved his hands around for a second, before he finally decided to rest them on your waist. His touch was soft, treating you like you were porcelain. It was similar to his kiss.

When the two of you had to part, the need for oxygen finally becoming too overwhelming, both of you were panting rapidly, but still holding onto each other for dear life.

“It was about time, wasn’t it?”, You asked after you had caught your breath again. The Doctor could only nod, before he leaned in again, kissing you softly on your forehead.

“I’ll always…always be here for you.”, the Doctor mumbled,”I’ll alway protect you.”

You watched how a tear ran down his cheek. You gently raised your hand again and wiped it away.

“Look at you.”, you smiled,”Happy tears, that’s a first, isn’t it?”

“There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”, he agreed, while pulling you closer again. for one last time, he pressed his lips to yours. It only lasted a few seconds, but it made you long for more. 

Only now, as you were about to knock at the Pond’s door, probably bringing them the biggest surprise in their life yet, you spotted something behind the Doctor.

“You know what?”, you said, patting his chest lovingly, “You go say hi to the Ponds, I’ll say hy to the Tardis.”

The Doctor could only smile at you:”She missed you almost as much as I did.”

“Of course she did.”, You grinned before sprinting towards the Time Machine.

You took in her form. She looked exactly the same, but it still made your heart flutter. You hastily pulled out your Tardis key, that you always carried with you, just in case, and quickly opened the door. You took a deep breath in, before stepping inside. Almost immediately, you heard the familiar humming coming from the console. 

“Oh I missed you too, old girl.”, You smiled, quickly ascending the stairs to look around.

”He’s taken good care of you, hasn’t he?”, you breathed out, while taking in the familiar surroundings. It felt so good to be back.

“And you took good care of him, hm?”, You whispered, your hand now resting on the console. You heard the distant humming again and you took it as a yes. Before you could say anything more, the monitor suddenly came swinging towards you. You quickly ducked away, afraid you might hit your head.

“You want to show me someth-”, Your voice died down, as you saw it. The small picture of you, taped to the edge of the monitor. It was the day, the Doctor took you onto your first adventure together. You looked so young, you almost couldn’t belive your eyes. 

“Thank you, old girl.”, You smiled contently, before quickly making your way outside again.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that left your lips, as you saw the Doctor and Amy in her doorway, just staring at each other, both too stubborn to hug first. You swiftly jogged over to them.

”Just hug already!”, you shouted, while simultaneously pushing the Doctor against Amy, forcing both of them to hug. Laughing erupted in the hallway, while the two fo them finally hugged.

“Rory?!”, You questioned into the kitchen,”Look who finally showed up!”

Only seconds later, Rory’s head popped out of the Kitchen. A smile soon appeared on his lips, as he saw who your entourage was.

“Was about time.”, he chuckled, patting the Doctors shoulder,”Come on, we were about to eat.”

“If it doesn’t cause too much trouble.”, The Doctor said nervously, while searching for your eyes for help.

“Oh don’t worry.”, You chided.

“Yeah, she’s right.”, Amy agreed,”We always set up a place for you. Come on.”

With that, the Ponds walked back into the kitchen, while you and the Doctor remained in the hallway for a few more moments.

“Oh Doctor. We already had that today, didn’t we?”, You chuckled softly as you raised your hand again to wipe away his tears,”You know, I could get used to you happy crying.”

His entire face changed in seconds,”Don’t you dare.”, without another word, he pecked your cheek before following the Ponds into the Kitchen. You could hear the sound of their laughter chiming into the hallway.

A content smile sat on your Face. You were finally home, together with the people you loved most.

[targaryenluvs]

BIRTHDAY GIRL

pairings: eleventh doctor x fem!reader (romantic), amy pond x fem!reader, rory williams x fem!reader

summary: the chaos of your boyfriend the doctor, amy, and rory organising your birthday. but seems there’s some miscommunication and clashes when it comes to agreeing.

warnings: none! fluff, bickering between eleven rory and amy over who knows you better, kisses, hugs, short blurb

a/n: no clue why i haven’t yet written for one of my fav shows yet

you’re slumber is ruined by extremely loud voices originating in the kitchen. it wasn’t even morning in your eyes yet everyone was awake. eleven being awake made sense but rory and amy? especially amy with how cranky she gets. speaking of eleven, he wasn’t in bed.

which wasn’t odd since he quite literally didn’t need sleep but he usually got out of bed when you woke up. you’d find him reading, tossing a ball up and down, talking to himself and you, some of the more tame times. once you found him trying to do gymnastics in bed.

as you got up and made your way into the kitchen you found the three of them with a cake. “no! no! you’ve got it wrong her hair isn’t that short rory!” amy scolded as rory sighed, “i swear it is! did she not get a haircut?” amy slapped him upside the head which had the doctor laughing, “that was me you dummy. and you, quit laughing and get to icing.” the doctor raised his hands,

“ah but you see, i already have!” rory and amy’s gasps were loud. “green! you put green love hearts on the cake and- is that a hat? oh god is it a fez? and a bow tie?” amy groaned as eleven reached to adjust his own, “bow ties are cool.” the three of them spoke in unison, “i quite adore your bow tie collection eleven.” rory’s eyes widened as he realised you’d seen them. “no, no, no, no! you are not supposed to be here.”

so you wait in the living room in the meanwhile. not long after the three come in, all holding a, special cake. whilst from one side it looked gorgeous the other was a mess. you spotted a drawing of the four of you holding hands, the tardis in the background and it looked as if a five year old had drawn it.

the party in the living room has copious amounts of clashing colours and themes and they all had flour and icing on their faces and clothes. “we’re sorry for ruining it.” amy frowned, they all looked like kicked puppies and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“ruin it? i’ve got to be one of the luckiest girls around to have three people love me so much that they fought over my birthday and what to do for it. i love the cakes and the party. thank you guys. seriously.” you smiled as everyone slowly cheered up.

“you like it seriously?” rory asked as you laughed, “yes i do you idiot.” you pulled them all into a tight hug as you all laughed. you registered the rogue hand placing a certain fez on you’re head.

“now who needs party hats when we have these bad boys.” the doctor grinned as you placed the fez at the centre of your head. “i’ve never looked better.” he smiled at you, “never.” you kissed him sweetly, a hand on his cheek as you glanced over at rory and amy fussing over who got to give you the first slice.

“yeah, i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” you had your people right here.

[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.

[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

[idontknowwhoiam465]

Not Alone. Not Anymore. Not Ever.

The reader met the Doctor three months ago, and already he's become so important to her. Her anxieties about being left alone start to show, and the Doctor makes sure she knows thats not going to happen. Not ever.

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

I'd been traveling with the Doctor for almost three months now, and already the larger than life TARDIS had started to feel more like home than anywhere on Earth ever did. The Doctor and I had settled into a comfortable companionship early on, and I could see the joy in his eyes whenever he watched closely at my reactions to a new planet, or species, or some corner of the universe I never thought imaginable.

The Doctor had quickly become my favourite person to be around. His quirky excitable personality, and outfit to match, drew me in from the moment I saw him. Whenever we were sat in the control room of the tardis and he was tinkering away fixing something or other, he'd often tell me stories of places he'd been as I kept him company. Tell me tales of the adventures he'd had and the people he'd seen. Songs he's heard, and lives he's lived.

Sometimes he'd mention a name of a past companion and a flash of sorrow would show in his eyes, before brightening up again, so quick I almost wouldn't notice. It's in these moments that I realise how lonely he gets. How afraid he is to be alone again. These are the moments that scare me. I see myself in him. His eyes a reflection of my own.

I spent my whole life caring so much about the people around me. Loving them with everything I had in me. Only for them to get bored of me, or decide I was too much to deal with, and just walk away. And it hurt. It hurt like hell. Anytime someone new would come into my life, I'd wonder how long. How long until they get bored of me? How long until I drive them away? How long before they decided they dont want me anymore?

Sometimes, when I see that pain in the Doctors eyes, I want to tell him I know how he feels. I know what its like to be left on your own time and time again. But I can't. His eyes show the pain of someone who hasn't just been left behind, but rather, had the people he loved ripped away. My loneliness can't compare to that.

Sometimes my anxiety gets the better of me. I find myself wondering if he's going to leave me behind too. If I'm another burden, that im putting on his already heavy shoulders.

I also wonder if, just as I see the loneliness in his eyes, he sees it in mine.

Of course, he does. I just didn't realise that yet.

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

I was too busy constantly overthinking the idea of him leaving me, that I didn't even notice everything he was doing to make me trust that he wouldn't.

The comforting smiles and endless rescues when we went to a planet, and it didn't quite go as planned. The time he put a beanbag in the control room for me, because he knew I couldn't sit comfortably still on a chair. Keeping hold of my hand, never letting go, as we'd explore dark creepy tunnels. The little music box he secretly bought for me, after noticing me looking at it longingly at an alien marketplace. And the way he seemed to know when I was afraid, before I knew myself, and made sure he was by my side.

Despite all this, my anxieties about him leaving me behind only grew.

It was when we went to Victorian London, that I fell apart.

--

I peered out of the doors of the TARDIS around the Doctor's shoulder as he (quite overly dramatically) opened them. I gasped at the snow lining the streets as the faint glow of the streetlamps lit the dark road. The snow glittered as each flake reflected the light, creating a sparkling blanket, resting peacefuly on the ground.

I turned to the Doctor excitedly, 'Where - no, wait - When are we? When and where?'.

'Victorian London,' He licked his finger and held it up in the air as he stepped out of the blue box, '1873, 5:23 pm, December 24th, Wednesday. Good. Not a Thursday. Don't like Thursdays. Today is Christmas Eve, Christmas ball day. And we,' he winked at me as he pulled out his psychic paper, 'have got an invitation.'

I stared at him eyes wide. 'Christmas ball day. You're taking me to a christmas ball. In Victorian London.' I looked outside as I breathed out a silent wow.

I looked down at the clothes I was wearing, 'Oh my god, I need to go get a dress!'

As I turned to get to the wardrobe room of the TARDIS, the Doctor stopped me.

'I uh, actually, Y/N, may have already bought one for you. If you want it that is, I don't mean to force you to wear it if you dont want to. Thats not what I want to do at all actually, I just saw it and thought you might like it. Tell me if you -'

I cut him off with a grin.

'Show me the way to my new dress Doctor'

'Well, yes, okay then, follow me'

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

I opened my eyes to see the most beautiful dress I could have ever imagined. Hanging in front of me was a sea of green. Layers upon layers of fabric, all folded over eachother. Stunning embroidery and beads and lace all creating so many beatiful patterns that I could sit there all day and find new designs and still find more later.

The Doctor's voice came from behind me, 'I thought the colour would work well with your hair, seeing as you insist on dying it red.'

He thought that far into it. He thought about whether or not it would match my hair. I turned to him silently not knowing what to say. Before I even knew I was crying, the Doctor took a step towards me.

'Hey, what's wrong? Do you not like the dress? I'm sorry, I didnt mean to upset you.'

The Doctor wiped a tear off my cheek as I whispered through a shaky breath, 'The dress is beautiful Doctor. Really, I love it. That's not the problem at all.'

He held his hand on the side of my face and gently asked, 'Then talk to me, what's wrong?'

'It's nothing. Don't worry about it. It's stupid.' I said shaking my head slightly.

He took one of my hands in his and looked at me with his bluey-green eyes full of so much care, 'Oh Y/N, nothing that makes you sad or hurt could ever be stupid. Please talk to me.'

'Its just, well, you're important to me right,' I managed, tears coming quicker now, 'My best friend. And that scares me. I told you. It's stupid. But everyone, everyone I've ever cared about has decided at one point or another that they're bored of me. Or that they dont want to deal with me anymore. I always push everyone away. And you're doing all this nice stuff for me. The bean bag and the music box, and now this stunning dress. And it makes it worse. Because what if you decide you dont want me anymore. I can't get left behind again. I just, I just can't. And I couldn't tell you, because I see it in your eyes. You've been alone before, but your eyes tell a different story. You weren't just left behind. I can see the pain and the grief. They were taken from you. And my fear of being alone is small and silly compared to that.' I looked down at the floor, scared to look at him and see him looking at me as though I'm making a big deal out of nothing.

I felt his hand leave my cheek and tilt my chin up to look at him. His eyes searched mine for a moment, before he pulled me in for a hug and held me like our lives depended on it.

'My amazing Y/N. Just because we feel different pain, it doesnt mean your's is lesser. You hear me? You are allowed to feel just as sad as anyone else. Don't think you have to hide it from me. And listen I am not going anywhere without you, you are coming to the ends of the universe with me whether you like it or not. You are not alone. Not anymore. Not ever.'

I pulled back to look at him, my turn to search his eyes. 'You promise?' I whispered.

'Cross both my hearts and hope to die. Well, not really hope to die, the idea doesnt seem particularly appealing to me personally. Honestly that phrase should probably have some adjustments made. But yes, I promise. You're stuck with me I'm afraid.'

My lips curled up slightly at his rambling, and the sincerity I saw in his face.

His face turned into a grin, 'There we go Bright Eyes. There's that smile I love. Now, haven't you got a dress to try on?'

I looked behind me at the dress, and turned back to him with my own grin. 'Absolutely. And then, we have a ball to attend.'

======================================

Thankyou so much for reading, it's my first fic, so hopefully you liked it. Lmk what i can do to make future ones better of if theres anything you want me to do :)

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Requests are open

In my writing I try to keep it gender neutral so everyone can enjoy but I do write for male and female readers as well ♡

The fandoms listed below are the ones I will write for. If you are curious about something not listed, ask and I’ll see what I can do. I do write smut, please 18+ only when tagged

Tags: ☾- angst ♡- fluff ⟡- smut

Harry Potter

Mattheo Riddle:

♡ Puppy Eyes

⟡ For You, I’d Fall from Grace

☾ Just a Glimpse of Us

⟡ Desperately Needed

Theodore Nott:

♡ ⟡ Dating Headcanons

♡ Into the Blackhole

⟡ To Be Worshipped

Lorenzo Berkshire:

♡ The Art of Learning Potions

Slytherin Boys:

♡ Coffee Shop Headcanons

Doctor Who

Eleventh Doctor:

♡ Hold Me Close

Divider credits go to @saradika

[raz-writes-the-thing]

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

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

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

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

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

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe fifteen,” Ten replied tiredly. 

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

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

Absolutely not.

[dottores]

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, reader gets a bit hurt in this chapter but only briefly.

notes: y'all we are officially 50k words in omg what a milestone. we are almost there--they are going to meet soon... but technically.... well you'll see. there are THREE special cameos in this chapter

A WARM WELCOME

“Now is not the time, doctor.”

Pantalone didn’t even raise his head to look at Dottore as he scribbled away at whatever parchment he was writing on. Dottore pressed his lips together, eyes cold beneath his mask as he watched Pantalone, unmoving. The windows of his office creaked against the winds outside, fireplace crackling to keep the room warm but other than that, silence rang loudly between the two of them.

Finally, when Dottore made no move to leave, Pantalone looked up. “What is it? I have a week to prepare for the induction of the Eleventh. I don’t have time for petty complaints.”

Dottore should be insulted, he could feel his irritation rising at the man’s comment but he forced himself to push it away. He had more important things to deal with, notably, his soulmate and as much as he hated to admit it, Pantalone’s resources were necessary if he wanted to find her before someone else did… before she got herself and by extension, him, hurt.

“You offered me resources a few years ago,” Dottore finally said, watching Pantalone carefully for a reaction. “I would like them now.”

The Regrator was a sharp man. Dottore did not have to go into detail for purple eyes to flicker down to his thumb, where the red thread connected him to his soulmate. He watched as Pantalone’s brows furrowed, as he tried to figure out why the sudden change after years of Dottore denying her very existence to him. 

“You have terrible timing, doctor,” Pantalone murmured, pushing the parchments aside as he leaned back in his seat to look up at Dottore. “My resources have been all but expended between the upcoming event and trying to track down that menace to the east who has been slaughtering our underlings.

Dottore’s lips twisted. “It is not my timing that is terrible,” he said coolly, Pantalone raised his eyebrows and Dottore exhaled. “It’s hers. I believe she is here. In Snezhnaya.”

Pantalone exhaled, turning his head to the side to look out the window. “That’s not good,” he murmured. 

“I know that,” Dottore said shortly.

“Why not send one of your segments?” Pantalone asked after a moment, pen tapping against the wood of his desk in an unsteady manner that had Dottore’s eye twitching in annoyance.

“They’re busy,” Dottore answered tensely. 

A lie. Both Epsilon and Rho were back in Snezhnaya City with nothing to do until Dottore decided what research he wanted them to continue on after finishing a round of successful experiments in Archon residue down in southern Liyue. Dottore just didn’t want to send them after her. 

Epsilon was Epsilon. He could not trust that the segment wouldn’t do something foolish driven by the emotions that the rest of them did not have or were not capable of understanding. He was the one that Dottore worried about the most ever since the thread appeared, fearing that he would do something that would irreparably strengthen the bond… like forcing Dottore to meet her because he thought it would be best for them.

And Rho had been the one most vocal about at least letting the kids meet her and if the kids met her, he knew it would inevitably lead to Dottore meeting her and that was the last thing he wanted. 

He had a feeling that Pantalone could read right through the excuse if the unimpressed look on his face had anything to say about it but Dottore did not waver, raising his chin and staring down at where the man was sitting. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the resources to look for her right now,” Pantalone finally said, shaking his head and scooching his chair back to ruffle through one of the drawers of his desk. “If you can send one of your segments to take out the threat in the east, I might be able to conjure some up and have them keep an eye out but right now my hands are tied.”

“Fine,” Dottore said sharply. “Give me the information you’ve gathered. I’ll send a segment to track him down and kill him.”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows again, this time not even bothering to ask the question that Dottore knew was dancing through his mind: I thought your segments were busy, he could hear the mocking words just through the man’s expression. 

Instead, Pantalone just slid a thick folder across the desk to give to Dottore. He snatched it and tucked it under his arm, intent on passing it off to Rho before he returned to his labs, waiting for Pantalone to confirm that he would look for her.

“We don’t want him dead. We want him captured,” Pantalone warned. “Pierro wants information from him… then I’ll convince him to pass him off to you. Another test subject, you’re welcome.”

Dottore only smiled thinly. “And the girl?” he pressed.

“I’ll do what I can,” Pantalone said. “What do you know about where she is? Western or Eastern Snezhnaya? The border? I need to be able to narrow down the search, I can’t send men all across Snezhnaya with the upcoming event. I need them in the city to prepare for the arrivals of the aristocrats.” 

“I know that she is in Snezhnaya,” Dottore told him. Maybe he would know more if he would swallow his pride and reach out to her, but that simply was not an option. 

Pantalone stared at him, irritation thinly veiled behind his purple eyes. “You do not like making things easy, do you?” the corners of Pantalone’s eyes crinkled in annoyance at Dottore’s words before he finally sighed, shaking his head. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally repeated, “but with nothing to go on, I can make no promises that I’ll find her before someone else does… so, for all of our sakes, I suggest you try to narrow that down.”

It was cold. 

You knew that was something you should have expected and you thought you prepared adequately for it but now, you thought that no amount of preparation could have made you ready to face this. As soon as you had crossed over into Snezhnaya, the temperature had plummeted, the sheer cold was beyond anything you had ever felt before--cold enough to crack the stones of the buildings in the small villages littered throughout the countryside, cold enough to freeze you from the inside out.

Traveling during the night simply wasn’t feasible, as soon as the sun crossed the horizon, the already bone-chilling temperatures plunged further. You had been lucky the first night when you were traveling down the main road deeper into the northlands--you had bumped into an older man traveling back to his home from the one of the villages, he had ushered you back to his place and he and his wife had looked after you, warning you that you wouldn’t live through the night without shelter in Snezhnaya.

Since then, it’d been a game of survival. The deeper you got into Snezhnaya, the more winding and confusing the roads became, the harder it became to track down villages to find inns to stay at and the more nervous it made you about finding shelter for the night. You thought that Snezhnaya was a trap laid out for foreigners, only those who were born and raised there knew how to navigate the lands without meeting an untimely end. 

The tundra of the east appeared endless, a daunting venture you dared not make, and the forests of the west were dark and maze-like with dangerous creatures prowling about and the threat of getting lost and not making it to an inn before night fell was high… but the forest was the only way through to the mountain range south of the Snezhnayan capital city. If you wanted to get to the heart of the Fatui, you would have to trek through the forest and pray you stumbled upon one of the villages before the sunset. 

You exhaled, leaning back in your seat at the bar of the inn you were staying at as you swirled your empty glass between your fingers. You had reached the end of the main road, the only way further into Snezhnaya was through the forest now but the thought of entering it made you anxious. A part of you thought you might be better off heading back home. 

“Another?” the bartender questioned as he walked by you but you only shook your head, thanking him quietly as you remained lost in your own thoughts. 

You couldn’t turn back. Not now, not yet. You had promised yourself and your father that you wouldn’t return home until you had ample evidence to bring this to court… unless you died trying to get it.

Your grandfather didn’t want you going north. He thought that no amount of evidence would be worth you risking your life for but you disagreed. You didn’t think there was any world in which you’d be able to live with yourself knowing you didn’t even try. 

From the corner of your eye, you noticed that he was looking at you again--the man sitting at a table in the corner of the room. You couldn’t see his face, there was a hood masking it from view but you could feel his eyes on you, he’d been watching you for nearly thirty minutes now. A part of you wanted to confront him, grab your stuff and head over to his table and demand to know why he kept staring at you but… the more logical part of you knew you shouldn’t. You didn’t know why he was staring at you and all of the worst possibilities were running through your head:

Does he know what you’re here for?

Is he Fatui?

Is he planning on attacking you?

Your vision vibrated from where it was hidden beneath your cloak, warning you to prepare for a battle but you were not the battle type. You had never learned how to wield your vision in a combat manner and you didn’t know if he had a vision or not, you only knew that he had a large claymore set down on the seat next to him and all you had was a small blade that couldn’t even be called a sword. You had only learned to use your vision in the way your father and grandfather taught you when you were younger and it was not something you enjoyed doing to people. 

Finally, you forced yourself to stand up. Your gaze caught the window on the far end of the room as you rose to your feet--it was dark already, night had fallen and the hazard of the cold had become even more real. 

With a sharp inhale, you turned on your heel to make your way over to the table the man was sitting at. You watched as his head turned to follow you as you approached him and you watched as his body tensed, gloved fingers gripping the edge of the table tight as you slid onto the bench across from him.

“Is there a reason you keep staring at me?” you finally asked. You leaned back against the wall that the bench was placed against, feigning ease, but your legs were tense, ready to move at the first sign of an attack.

“You’re not from here,” the man said after a moment of silence, you caught a glimpse of red beneath the hood he wore. His accent was foreign--unlike the Snezhnayan dialect you’d become used to throughout your travels. 

“Neither are you,” you retorted. He shifted back in his seat, the lighting of the inn revealing equally red hair hanging in his eyes, cold and empty with something dark thinly veiled behind them that made your skin crawl--eyes that had witnessed massacre, eyes that promised vengeance. Vengeance for what? You didn’t know. You weren’t sure you wanted to know, you knew it would lead to nothing good. 

You suddenly felt as if you had made a mistake. 

“There aren’t many foreigners this deep in Snezhnaya,” he noted cooly. “Just merchants… are you a merchant?”

Somehow, you felt as if ‘yes’ was the wrong answer. 

He was accusing you of something, you could feel it in your bones but you didn’t know what he was accusing you of. Being a spy? Was he Fatui? 

“I’m not a merchant,” you said, taking in a small puff of air when you caught the blood smeared across the man’s chin and neck as the hanging lights in the middle of the tavern swayed a bit. His lips pressed together subtly at your words and your vision was becoming even more erratic--danger, danger, danger, it warned you.

Somehow, you knew now that ‘no’ had been the wrong answer too. 

“It’s hard traveling through Snezhnaya without knowing what paths to take, you can get lost easily… all of the paths on the old maps have been snowed out,” he responded. “How’d you make do?” 

“An older couple living off the main road pointed me in the right direction,” you told him. “How about you? Are you a merchant?”

You knew he wasn’t. No merchant traveled with blood staining their faces and a weapon the size of the average person. He had no goods that he had arrived with, he’d shown up at the inn a little after you had with only his sword in tow and his eyes were unfriendly and glacial, unlike the faux charisma that painted the expressions of merchants as they tried to get you to buy their products.

The man stared at you for a moment and then he said, “No,” with no further explanation.

The Fatui usually traveled in groups or as pairs. He had a foreign accent. He wore no mask or sigil that affiliated him with the organization as they usually did. Who the hell was he?

And then you remembered the hushed whispers of the elderly couple you had stayed with--warning you that the Fatui had become more active in their area because of a belligerent wreaking havoc throughout central Snezhnaya who had been spotted at a nearby inn. They told you to take care because they didn’t think that the Fatui would take kindly to any outsider in the area so long as the hostile remained terrorizing their strongholds but…

Was this…?

You watched him carefully, trying to figure it out without having to ask. You were several miles from where you had been staying with them now and it had been two and a half days. Traveling through Snezhnaya was slow and arduous, the wind fought you with every step and half of the time you were dragging yourself through snow that reached your knees. 

If this was him, then maybe… 

You didn’t even have a chance to finish the thought, head snapping to the side as the door to the inn slammed open and cold air rushed through the tavern at the entrance, blowing out half of the candles keeping the room lit up. Your stomach churned uncomfortably and from the corner of your eye, you watched as the man you were sitting with reached for his weapon. 

Who the hell was traveling in the dead of night?

Your throat felt tight as you watched another hooded figure step into the inn. You couldn’t make out his features in the dim lighting, you couldn’t even tell if he was armed or not but there was an odd vial that glowed blue even in the dark hanging from his right ear.

The bartender had paused in making a drink for one of the other patrons of the tavern, a wary look visible on his face that you caught as the chandelier swung dangerously beneath a harsh wind. You let out a shaky breath, the cold from outside was already creeping beneath your cloak and freezing your skin. You wondered why no one was shouting at him to close the damn door like they did to other people who arrived until the bartender finally spoke up, voice shaky: 

“Lord Harbinger,” he breathed out. “How can I-”

The man’s head turned in your direction--no, you realized, not your direction, his--and that was the only warning you got before the world around you exploded. 

The entire right side of his body felt like it was on fire. Dottore let out a spew of curses as his hand spasm and he dropped the vial he had been studying right to the ground, watching as the glass shattered and the silvery liquid splattered all over the floor, dissolving the tiles and eating through the ground.

Dottore exhaled, briefly shutting his eyes before looking down at the mess on the floor. His lips twisted in annoyance as he realized he was going to have to restart what he had been testing but the annoyance very quickly faded, instead shifting into confusion as the pain persisted. His gaze drew over to his arm--nothing was wrong with it on the surface level but it was a blinding type of pain that had him gritting his teeth, like a jagged blade was tearing through his bicep.

It was…

He hadn’t felt anything from her in nearly two weeks. No anxiety, no fear, no anger or sadness and certainly not any pain. He stared down at his arm, where the pain was coming from, and not for the first time since the accursed thread showed up, Dottore had no idea what to do. He thought that he should reach out to her, figure out what was going on and get a general idea of where she was so he could send one of his segments to find her. The pain was more than anything he had ever experienced through her and he wasn’t sure if it was just because she had a low pain tolerance and he was feeling what she was, or if it was because the pain was actually that bad. 

Neither boded well for her. 

But if he reached out to her, if she was fighting someone, it could distract her. 

Dottore’s teeth grit together. He didn’t know what would happen to him or the segments if she died. He didn’t know how it would affect them. Logically, he thought it shouldn’t affect them at all. They hadn’t met her yet and if the bond worked anything like how they believed it did, it shouldn’t take effect until after they met, which wasn’t going to happen… but after two weeks of silence, Dottore was unsure. Every day that passed, an odd, unfamiliar feeling expanded through his chest. He didn’t know how to describe it besides overwhelming and unwelcome but he knew it was because of her silence and the lack of communication through the bond. It caused an emptiness that made him question everything they had learned about the bond. 

And if mere silence could cause that, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk knowing what her death would cause.

Are you okay? 

He asked it before he could decide against it, taking a seat back down at the lab table he had been working at as he waited for a response. Each second felt like an eternity, he could hear the silver liquid still eating through the ground below, sizzling and cracking as the floor dissolved wherever it touched the substance. 

He wondered if she would just ignore him like he did to her for years on end.

But then, his forearm stung--a familiar feeling that he hadn’t experienced in two weeks now. He hated how that empty feeling he hadn’t been able to get rid of since he had pushed her away immediately disappeared. It made him feel weak… as if he had no control over his own emotions like a puppet on a string being commanded by a stranger. He glanced down at his arm, red eyes flying over the words that had appeared.

Does it feel like I’m okay?

At once, he rolled his eyes, regretting reaching out to her. He rose to his feet again, pacing across the room to get the tools he needed to clean the mess of his mistake but before he even got halfway there, the pain tripled and a creeping fear began to spread through his chest. He grimaced as he leaned on a nearby counter, trying to regain control over himself but he found that he couldn’t--her fear and pain was simply too intense.

What happened? 

He slid down against the counter he was leaning on until he was sat on the floor. He watched the silvery liquid from the corner of his eye, watching as it ate through the ground closer and closer to him as he waited for a response from her. He despised how he couldn’t compartmentalize her feelings. He had learned how to separate them from his and the other segments but he had never figured out how to store them away and convert them into something that was easier for him to process. 

Attacked. 

Dottore felt cold. His gaze drew over to the window on the opposite wall of his lab--it was dark out, the sun had long set and the wind was harsh. He wondered if the coldness was a result of the damning realization that she was in trouble or if it was because she was outside. Either way, Dottore needed to act--if she was still being attacked, he had to get one of the segments there and if she was stuck in the cold running after being attacked, she would die to nature.

Dottore tried to push away the rising anger--the fury that never failed to appear whenever he was put into an impossible situation because of this bond, whenever he felt like the gods were looking down at him and laughing as he played right into their sick games. 

Who attacked you? Where are you?

He shot out questions to her at a rapid speed, the pain was getting worse on his end. He could feel a light-headedness and a fuzzy feeling beginning to seep through his body and mind. She had to be losing blood and too much of it. If she passed out, that would be the end. She’d be killed by the attacker or she’d be killed by the cold, there was no other fate that awaited her. 

Don’t know. An inn at -------

Dottore stared at the indecipherable words branded onto his forearm--he wasn’t sure if they were scribbles or an ancient language that he just couldn’t understand, another way for the gods to laugh at him by dangling the answer wants right in front of his face but making it so that he couldn’t understand it. 

What do you mean you don’t know? Figure it out.

Dottore wondered if she could sense his irritation at her response. He didn’t really care if she could, maybe it would make her think harder. 

Fatui, finally scrawled itself on his forearm and Dottore thought he might want to throw something because he had called it the moment that he had realized she might be coming north, he knew that between her being a foreigner and their subordinates being anxious over the masked hostile running through their camps that something would happen. They called him Lord Harbinger. 

Dottore stared at the words trying to piece together what was going on. Lord Harbinger? Pulcinella and Pantalone were rarely, if ever, sent on missions that would end in combat. As far as he was aware, Brighella was at Zapolyarny Palace working with Pierro on something. Capitano was traveling north from Natlan for the initiation of the new Harbinger in a few days, he’d be on a boat traveling the western sea. Scaramouche? It could-

He had a blue earring, it was bright.

A blue earring, he was acutely aware of the one hanging from his own ear, mind racing as he tried to remember where each of the segments were. Lambda and Theta were in Sumeru. Zeta was in Mondstadt. Delta and Iota were on the Fontaine border. Gamma, Epsilon and Kappa were all hanging around his labs. 

Rho, it dawned on Dottore suddenly. He had sent the segment south to track down the belligerent because their subordinates had proved incapable. He had mentioned that he was closing in on the man. Had she gotten caught in the crossfire? Was she traveling with him? 

No, that wasn’t possible. All reports had claimed that the hostile was traveling alone.

Rho, Dottore spit out, reopening the connection with the segment, intent on having him find the girl and drag her back across the border into Fontaine. Where are you?

Not now, Rho responded, voice cold and angry. It took a lot to anger Rho, he had tight control over his temper unlike the Theta and Delta segments. Dottore could feel something stinging his cheek, a cut--he wondered if the hostile had actually managed to land a blow on him, no matter how small. It would explain why he was so angry. 

Get back to where you came from. Now.

Now? Rho demanded, livid. I’m on him. 

She was there. At the inn. The reaction was instantaneous as Rho’s resolve wavered. If she dies because of you, you won’t even get the relief of deactivation.

Dottore rose to his feet again once he was certain that Rho had turned back, pacing across the length of his lab, careful to step over the melted ground where the substance had fallen. 

Once he found her, this would all be over. He’d have Rho bring her back to Fontaine whether she liked it or not, and once he knew where she lived, he’d make sure to send one of the other segments to keep an eye on her so something like this would never happen again.

Finally, he would have some semblance of control over the bond for the first time since it appeared. He’d no longer be hanging onto her whims, he’d no longer have to stress about her getting herself hurt or killed and how it would affect him, he’d no longer be bound to this mess and he’d never have to worry about accidentally running into her because the segment would keep her confined to the city and he would stay far from it.

He’d send the Zeta segment. He couldn’t send Theta because he didn’t trust him not to do something rash. He couldn’t send Delta, Rho or Epsilon because the younger segments were attached to them at the hip and they would press to meet her. Lambda was an option if he could ensure that the segment wouldn’t try to ‘handle her’ as he threatened to already. 

Relief began to inch its way through him—too soon.

He had jinxed himself.

She’s not here, he heard Rho tell him. I don’t know-

Dottore closed the connection, biting back vile curses as he pressed his fingers to the bridge of the nose and tried to think. 

Where could she have gone? It had only been a few minutes. She was hurt. She couldn’t have gotten far. 

Where are you? He finally decided to ask her and he waited, and waited, and waited for a response but was only met with the empty silence he had become accustomed to the past two weeks. 

“Where am I?” 

Your eyes followed the cloaked figure carefully, trying to keep your breath steady as the pain coursing through your arm gradually subsided. Your gaze flickered to the side, watching as the red, bubbling skin of your right arm began to smooth and clear beneath whatever substance that had been smeared over the burns. 

“What is this stuff?”

You had a lot of experience with using elemental energy to heal wounds. Fontaine City had some of the best medics throughout Teyvat--Wriothesley’s family’s special trait could call upon hydro energy to heal even the most fatal and grievous of wounds. He had never been able to wield it the way his family wanted him to but his grandfather was the best of the best, he had helped you when you had broken your arm and leg ten years ago after falling down the steps of the clocktower when exploring with Wrio.

This was not elemental energy. It was odd and cool, like gelatin, but it worked as fast as any medic--in no time, the pain was gone and the burns had vanished, leaving the skin of your arm unblemished again.

“Old magics,” the person responded. Their voice was low, androgynous. You couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman.

“Why did you help me?” you asked. “Who are you?”

You didn’t know where you were now--it was a dark room, a stone building with a fireplace on the opposite wall. The last you remembered, you had been in the snow. You had started to lose consciousness, the cold and the pain too much for your body to bear. You could barely even remember what had happened: you could picture the hooded man who you had been sitting with brandishing his claymore and the man that they had called Lord Harbinger meeting him blade for blade, pale fire coating his weapon and eating away at the wood of the inn, burning through your cloak down to the skin. You could hear the screams of the other patrons of the inn as they got caught in the crossfire of the battle between the two men. 

And then you were here, in this room… with this person. 

“Who are you?” you demanded, more insistently this time when you didn’t get a response.

Finally, a reaction from them. The flames flickered across their face as they turned to face you and finally, you got a glimpse beneath the hood… but it was not a human face that stared back at you. It was a mask, dark with a spade-like pattern around the eyes, a smile painted onto the plastic. 

“No one,” they replied, “just a trouper.”

What? You thought to yourself, confused. Your nose wrinkled and your brows furrowed as you mulled over the word. A trouper? Like the entertainers at the Grand Theater? 

“Why did you help me?” you tried again, raising your chin to meet the two voids in the eyeholes of the mask. They hadn’t tried to bind you or restrict your movement, they hadn’t even taken your weapon--just a bit of concentration and you could put yourself in control of the situation. 

They tilted their head to the side, you couldn’t see their eyes or expression but you knew they were smiling, “Is that how you treat someone who saved you?”

You hadn’t even moved, you stared at them, unmoving, forcing your body to relax. How had they known what you were thinking? You weren’t a person that was easy to read--if you were, you would’ve been put on trial for treason a long time ago. 

“Why did you save me?” you asked slowly, not letting them get out of answering the question. 

“Because I want to help you.” 

Yet again, they evaded the question. Your lips twisted in frustration, “Why?”

“Because I think we can help each other.”

There it was, you recognized, taking in a sharp breath. They wanted something from you. The air around you suddenly felt cold, as if the fire across the room had been snuffed out even though it was still burning bright. They were eerily still, almost like a statue as they watched you, waiting for a reaction. 

“Why do you think that?” you asked carefully.

“Do you really think you can infiltrate the Fatui on your own?”

You were on your feet in an instant, reaching for the blade sheathed at your side but your eyes widened when you realized it wasn’t there. You only had half of a second to react before you found yourself backed up against the wall, a forearm pressed to your throat and the tip of your own blade pressed to your side, threatening to puncture the skin.

It had just been on you. How did they get it?

“Well?”

Well what? You wanted to scream, mind panicked and racing as you tried to force yourself to calm down and think but it was hard to concentrate with your air being half-restricted and a blade pressed to your ribcage. 

They wanted you to answer their question, you realized, about infiltrating the Fatui.

“Yes,” you said but you weren’t even sure you believed it yourself. You kept telling yourself that you would figure out a plan once you got to the city and had a scope of the area and more information available to you but you had a feeling that nothing would change even once there. Zapolyarny Palace would be impenetrable. 

“How?” they murmured, not letting up on you. You wanted to turn your face away, unnerved by the proximity of the mask, but you thought that would show you as weak and you couldn’t afford to show weakness, not right now. “Do you plan to storm the palace? Face the Harbingers and demand retribution for your father? Do you think you will fly under the radar of the Knave’s webs of spiders? That you can simply walk past the automatons of the Marionette prowling the streets of the capital city? You will find yourself a victim of the Doctor’s twisted experiments or the Friar’s sick games before you even hope to find the evidence you seek.” 

You couldn’t mask your expression, not after hearing that. You stared at them, lips parting as if to speak but no words left them. You felt like a fish out of water--for the first time in a long time, you were fumbling for words, your tongue felt twisted and heavy.

How were you going to do it? The question laid atop you like a crown of thorns, tearing through your skin and scarring your face. You didn’t know. You didn’t know how you were going to do it. You used not being in the city as an excuse, convinced yourself that it was the only reason you haven’t thought up a plan yet but the truth was branded right on your face as you stared at the masked person: you simply didn’t know.

“I can help you,” they whispered, leaning in impossibly closer. “I can give you your in, the chance you need to find the proof.”

“How do you know all of this?” you finally asked and you hated how your voice cracked over your words but you were scared because if this person knew all of this then it could spell your end, just like that. All they had to do was send word to the Fatui and you’d have hell bearing down on your doors.

And if they knew about this…

“I know a lot,” they said cryptically. “Would you like me to help you?”

… did they know about your soulmate?

You let out another shaky breath, staring ahead. You didn’t know what to do. If you didn’t accept their help, would they sell you out to the Fatui? Or would they laugh and watch as you fumbled your way through Snezhnayan courts and fail to acquire what you had traveled all this way for? You could feel the pain ricocheting through your head, you could barely even think straight, much less come up with an answer. 

If you did accept, you finally forced your head back on track, what did they want in return? That was what you needed to know.

“What would you want in return?”

“We don’t know yet,” they said quietly but their tone was not hesitant--if anything, it was amused. Finally, they released you, taking a step back to watch you. The eyes staring down at you were empty, like looking into an abyss.

A dangerous, dangerous gamble. It gave them too much power.

“No, I want to know what you want in return.”

We. You suddenly recognized how they referred to themself--we, not I, they were not working alone. You felt all the more suffocated at the realization. 

“Then I guess we have no deal,” they said with a sigh, making a move to leave the room the two of you were in. Your heart leapt to your throat. “I cannot tell you what we do not know. Take the deal as is or fail, you will not succeed without help. You have no way of getting into Zapolyarny Palace. It is impenetrable.”

You should take that as a challenge, tell them fuck off and make them watch as you succeeded. Your blood boiled at the condescending tone and it took all of your willpower to not snap at them. 

This was not the time for pride. You had to abandon all vices and virtues if you were to get the evidence to condemn your stepfather, if you were to bring justice to your father… and if this person were to offer you the chance you desperately needed… then maybe it was worth whatever price they wanted you to pay in the long run. 

Committing injustices in the name of justice, the thought rang through your head loud. Wrio would love the irony. 

“You can get me into Zapolyarny?” you finally questioned, hiding the way your hands were shaking behind you as you sealed your fate. 

They hummed in agreement, “You will be on your own once you’re in there. Take care not to anger the wrong people… or draw too much attention to yourself.”

You could do that, you told yourself. Once you got in, you needed to find a place. Weasel your way in as an attendant so you could search for the evidence you needed. 

“Okay,” you finally agreed. The air suddenly felt heavy and oppressive, you thought that if you looked up, you would see the blade of a guillotine dropping on your neck. “Okay, we have a deal.”

You didn’t have to see their face to know that they were smiling, the voids staring down at you glimmered cruelly, you swore you saw red deep within the eyeholes of the mask.

“Welcome to the game, spadille.”

rbs appreciated!!

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— CELEBRATION DAY

SUMMARY : cowboy Dean, that’s it! yeah, yeah, I’ve got a thing.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), blowjob (mentioned), handjob, unprotected p in v, angst, fluff

WORD COUNT : 5.9k

A/N : led zeppelin song title. omg, I wanna thank my big brothers for watching Supernatural when I was little. I never woulda met Dean’s gorgeous, galaxy freckled face, green-eyed sparkle sparkle, majestic body, honey hair, smirky, pillow lip prince—what was I saying? oh yeah, I love Dean, happy birthday to the man I’ve loved the longest 💗

Dean didn’t think the whole month of January could get any better.

Everyday Y/n left a gift for him somewhere around the bunker for him to find. It was like the Twelve Days of Christmas song, but so much better. 

He was really pretty sure she was stealing most of them. 

On the first day, a pin up style calendar, but instead of random women, it was her and all his favourite kinks and fetishes. If he could, he’d say he loved her in every language that exists. It’s the only way for him to show that he truly means it. At least he thinks so. 

On the second day, he received seven different types of necklaces that she thought he’d look prettiest in, but one stood out. One that he’d offhandedly shown interest in when they were window shopping to walk off the effects of caffeine in her system. The love letter smelled of coffee and recounted the feelings she had watching him be so domestic. 

On the third day, she gave him a Street Fighter arcade game perfect for his Dean Cave. He swore he’d beat her, but he didn’t have the heart to do so, and let her KO him (she already knew what he was doing).

On the fourth day, she got him a new, stainless steel watch. She attached a small love letter addressed to him, the last words were spoken by the Doctor: You waited long enough. Time and time again, with her by his side, he yearned for normalcy, a family, getting out. For some reason, an object that measured time symbolised their endless love, a promise that made him breathless.

On the fifth day, he was given seven different rings. The letter for this gift said something along the lines of: I need to practise proposing. And you didn’t say no, so this is going great. He chuckled at that. He’d never say no to her, especially not to marriage. 

On the sixth, she gave him a porn magazine, starring : her. He found it in the library when she sent him to pick up a book for her. A magazine like one belonging to Playboy that drove him crazy every day that he remembered what was in it. And that tiny love letter she put inside… He hoped no one would put their hands on that one. It was for his eyes only.

On the seventh, a black 1962 corvette that she put together with the help of her older brother. To say Dean was impressed was an understatement, despite all those times he taught her how to put the Impala back together, he was both turned on and fascinated with her work. And obviously they, uh, christened it. Or whatever.

On the eighth, she surprised him with twelve books he’d intended to read for such a long time, but never got around to searching for them. Shane; Whiskey When We’re Dry; Lonesome Dove; Blood Meridian. Were some of the titles he recognised and he was more than thrilled to dive into them and relax completely as reality faded around him. 

On the ninth, she gifted him a new cowboy outfit. She put that in the room where he kept all the costumes he wore. The material was more original, with amazing quality—aka, not cheap. A whole bunch of Hecho en Mexico tags that he’d ask her to read to him—in Spanish of course. For reasons. (And that love letter he found in the inner pocket also needed to be read in Spanish, too.)

On the tenth, he got to open a giant box of Scooby snacks. Here and there, there were a few of his other favourite snacks, but there were mostly Scooby snacks that he’d been munching on ever since. 

The eleventh, the gift he received were seven different bracelets. According to the love letter, they were gifts to keep him bound to her only. 

The twelfth, a brand new espresso machine. That was simply found by him in the kitchen, new, with an olive-green bow and a small lover letter. All that yummy coffee he gets to consume in the morning with her, trying it out together. Two coffee addicts in love. Nothing better.

The thirteenth, the gift was going to an amuent park together. They ate too many foods, went on all—if not most—of the rides, took a hundred photos, tried on the silly clothes, played the games—mini-golf, go-carts… He was exhausted as soon as they got inside the Impala. So, it was a last minute decision to stay at a nearby hotel for the night. It was the best sleep he had in ages. 

The fourteenth, a large journal in multitudes of journaling styles detailing things she loved about him that particular day or something he did that made her smile. It was cheesy, but very beautiful. The care and attention to detail made Dean’s heart lurch in his chest. From the cute bullet journal style, to the more than accurate drawings of him, and sophisticated details about things he didn’t know about himself, his habits, or other things he did. It was a collection of her love for him, which somehow made any fears evaporate like steam in a shower. 

The fifteenth, forty-five new sets of socks with cute and/or funny prints. And she was prepared with a new drawer for all of them to fit, rolled up perfectly like… well, whatever delicious meal she had planned just as he liked. Enchiladas. Yummy. And a new love letter shoved inside a sock to make him blush and smile boyishly. 

For the sixteenth day, it was four cassette mixtapes of all the songs they listened to when they went on some of their most meaningful dates and that played in the most memorable, intimate moments of their lives. Now it made sense why she was thrilled to learn and watch him prepare the mixtape he made for Cas. (It was better afterwards when his skills and patience were more than noticed by her and she—anyway, it was hot sex.) As for the love letter, it was profoundly clear that she wanted to praise and show she recognised his expertise, intelligence, and skill (not that she hasn’t praised him for it before). 

For the seventeenth day, he got a Katana. He didn’t need it, he didn’t even know he wanted it until he held it in his hands and unsheathed it. God, that was awesome. Of course he’d probably almost accidentally hurt himself playing around with it, using it unnecessarily in the kitchen—just as an example. 

For the eighteenth day, a sex position book with over 300 sex positions to try. It almost offended him, but after looking through a few pages, he was convinced that she was right and they needed to try some of the kinkier positions. 

For the nineteenth day, she handed him a lengthy collection of mint condition Batman comic books. He was so not cool about that, gushing and grinning, holding her tightly until she pushed him away to breathe properly. 

For the twentieth day, he received some new vinyl records of his favourite songs from his favourite bands to nearly complete his collection of music. And as always, he found a love letter relating to the gift she gave to him where she’d ‘hid’ the vinyls above his desk. 

For the twenty-first: an old photo album filled with photos he’d never seen from his childhood and up to last year. Some he never even remembered living, but they did skip a few memories that made him smile sadly. She confessed she got Cas to take her back into the past to sneakily take pictures of him and everything he lived through. It was oddly… endearing. Then, she gave him an empty photo album, only their New Year’s kiss was placed inside a protective, plastic pocket. Ready to be filled by him, this time around.

For the twenty-second, a custom made Batman costume. The story for this one was that she made a deal with one of Charlie’s old LARPing friends: if she got rid of a ghost in his house, he’d make her the costume. And after that, she got one of the Dean’s from another universe to act as the model for the measurements Charlie’s old friend took to make the costume fit him perfectly. There were a few ideas Dean had regarding that costume, and he’s more than a hundred percent sure Y/n’s been thinking the same thing ever since he tried it on. 

For the twenty-third, a twelve month pie subscription, obviously on National Pie Day. And he got to try the first one that day, rhubarb pie that made his mouth water as soon as the sticky insides made contact with his taste buds. How many times does he have to say he’s lucky in his mind?

And today, he had yet to find out. 

He was spoiled. 

Lavishing in her love for the past twenty-four days—more so than usual, soaking in it like the waffles he drowned in syrup for breakfast in the morning. 

Right after his birthday blowjob as soon as he woke up.

He ate those soft, perfectly crunchy, warm waffles in bed while basking in the golden afterglow of his orgasm. Breathless and dazed, he didn’t worry about a single thing as he moved from one waffle to the next, eating his favourite fruits, jams, chocolate chips, maple syrup, honey… all the things she knew he loved indecisively. 

And while she licked her lips clean of his cum, he licked his lips clean of whipped cream. 

God, he was lucky. 

She was awesome. More than awesome. 

There were no words he could find to describe her. 

The only problem with today was that he wasn’t gonna be the centre of just her attention. He could deal with that. He loved it, in fact. What he did not love was having to be the centre of attention with all his friends and family around. 

He just felt… maybe… shy. Embarrassed? Old? 

He wasn’t used to it. Not to that kind of attention from his friends, anyway. As much as they loved him and as much as he loved them. It was different. New. 

He was anxious about it. 

It was usually a phone call, a text, or nothing. He was fine with that. He didn’t really care. He was always hunting before. They were always busy with their hunts or their lives and birthday were always… whatever. 

He was used to Y/n. To the way she loved him. Worshipped him, even. Daily. It was almost the same as any other day, except for the gifts—which were grand, more… thoughtful and loving. As if she lived in his brain and heart, digging through his wishes and dreams to find the perfect gift to make him feel special. Something that lasted, something to be used, something to be loved by him. 

He was used to Sam. To the occasional, remorseless thieving of his little brother to get him what he thought he’d like. The singular, impactful gifts or the silly-joke gift he gave first to trick him into thinking it was something meaningless, thoughtless. The pat in the back, the hug, the pie, the childish decoration, the alcohol… a typical sibling birthday party meant to be laughed at. 

He was getting used to Cas. To the overuse of emoticons in the birthday text. The awkwardness in the hug before it settled and became comfortable to do. The thoughtful gift he recieved, something Dean mentioned whenever they hung out—even if it was ridiculous. Cas could get it. He’s an angel. And the best friend Dean could ever ask for. 

Jack… was, well, he’s Jack. He tried to copy Cas, Sam, Y/n. A mixture of all of the things they did, taking notes of what they were up to, finding something that was… him and not all of them. Dean’s heart softened and he cut Jack some slack, appreciating the effort, the thought he put into it, even if sometimes it was… bad. 

But now, some of his closest friends would be making their way to him and he was just not prepared for all of that.

What he was prepared for, was his girlfriend’s skillful ability to make a larger-than-necessary Rice Krispies Treat cake just for him. She liked it as much as he did now, replacing the traditional birthday cake—she wasn’t much of a cake fan. But his stomach’s heart did love those tres-leches cakes. 

Dean got dressed up as a cowboy as soon as Sam left to help Eileen prepare for the mini birthday party. He knew it did things to Y/n, even if she refused to admit it to him every time he brought it up or teased her about it. 

He tried to cling to her the whole day. 

He failed. 

She was up to secret stuff. 

He only got to be in her presence when she cooked or as she decorated the library where they’d later be embarrassing him with their loving attention. He helped her with all of that, of course—despite her protests. He’d hold her for a few minutes, kiss her a little bit, and then he’d follow behind her as if he couldn’t find anything better to do himself. 

He watched her pull out game after game, after game, and set it down on different tables. Cards Against Humanity. Loteria. UNO. Bingo. A few other classics, some from his childhood. And she was texting Sam the whole time for the location of each game, where to set it, agreeing on some and putting others away.

Dean didn’t mind. As long as there was something that took most of the attention away from him and towards something else. 

He played with the die from one of the games as he followed her around. His eyes traced over colourful candles, little horns to blow funny sounds out of, balloons, string, paper, confetti, banners, funny hats and glasses, and a dozen other items and decorations that made him feel like a kid again. 

Dean liked to watch her, and she liked watching his reaction to whatever she pulled out of the plastic bags he remembered watching Sam and Jack coming in with a few days ago. 

Dean was happy once she was done and finally resting from all the planning and tasks she was completing. She’d play with the buttons on his suit jacket by buttoning and unbuttoning them boredly as she took a break before heading off to the next activity. 

After she made the cake, she made extra for both of them to snack on—even though she’d also given him a piece before she prepared the Rice Krispies treat. The two of them waited for their friends to get to the Bunker and ate the small slice while watching a random movie on the television. 

Dean started to wonder what his brother would be getting him. Or Cas. Jack. Claire. Jody. Donna. Oh. He wanted to be sucked up into the couch, no, into Y/n’s soul. Just the thought of receiving a gift from everyone other than the people who currently lived in the Bunker made him flustered and embarrassed. 

He had no doubts the gifts would be good. Still, there was something about gifts and birthday parties that made him… uncomfortable. As much as he loved each and every single one of them, as much as he secretly adored being loved.. it felt like asking too much, even if this was all their idea. 

Even though he would do this and so much more for them. 

Dean didn’t know they were up to this until last week when Sam randomly brought it up. Y/n jumped on board immediately, then Jack did, and Cas. Jack and Cas were in charge of buying the snacks, which Dean appreciated because Sam tended to get distracted and would forget to buy some of the most important items—according to Dean, of course. The pie, being the main item.

Dean realised that neither he nor she were really paying attention to the movie. Their plates laid abandoned on the table next to the green leather couch they sat on. The cowboy hat was abandoned on Dean’s bed. She was tucked into the corner with one leg propped up in it with the other dangling over the edge. Dean settled on his back in between her legs with his head on her shoulder.

That was just the first step in seducing her. 

He wondered if he’d get more lottery tickets from everyone. If they’d bring some of the funniest, endearing birthday cards where they had to change the main title to for his age because he had the taste of a kid. He hoped they wouldn’t do something illegal like he knew Y/n and Sam were doing to make this the best birthday party for him. (Though, Dean was generally feeling pretty smug about their naughtiness.) 

He wouldn’t mind repeated gifts at all, as in… if Claire wanted to go mini-golfing with him and gave him another ticket… or if Jack simply wanted to try fishing with him again. He’d love that. To spend time with them. The people he cared most about. 

He played with her slim fingers, traced her knuckles, and teased the soft skin of her arms with his fingertips when she slipped them around his waist. He lifted her hands up to his lips, worshipping one thoroughly with his lips, warming them up for her. 

Her other hand rested over his chest where his heart was beating rapidly at the thought of what he wanted. Her hand laid still for a few seconds before she began to play with the buttons of his white dress shirt, then tapped her mossy-green nails against the ovaloid metal buckle of his belt. 

He dropped her hand gingerly to let her play with his clothes using both of her hands and he took to tracing her legs with his fingers over thick, warm pyjamas. He could feel her body release the tension of her stress, and for a moment, he smiled softly and felt his body do the same thing. 

When he turned to look at her, she glanced away from his chest where she was gently scratching his shirt to make the funny sound of cloth being scraped. He kissed her when she smiled at him, one small peck, not entirely innocent. 

The movie was long forgotten soon after that. Not that they were paying attention to it before anyway. 

Dean scooted up slightly to kiss her properly with one hand on her jaw, his fingers entwined through her soft hair, bringing her plush lips closer to his. It was unhurried, lazy, the slow build from firm, deep kisses, to demanding, heated ones that caused a blush to flare up their faces. 

Breathlessly, she began unbuttoning his shirt while he unbuckled his belt, but they continued kissing. His tongue slipped between her sweet lips, tasting more sweetness from the marshmallow and rice treat they ate not long ago. 

She brought the white t-shirt up his chest—excruciatingly slow—when she fully unbuttoned his dress shirt. Her fingertips slipped up the soft flesh of his tummy, his toned and freckled chest, then she flattened her palm over his rapidly thudding heart. Leisurely, she smoothed her hand down his soft, slightly scarred skin, brushing past the fine, blonde hair trailing down beneath his belly button.

Dean moaned into her mouth and impatiently lifted his hips from the couch. She snuck her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and curled her fingers around the base of his hardening length. Dean gasped against her kiss-swollen lips and closed his eyes tightly, promptly rolling his hips to push his cock through her fingers. 

“You look so hot like this,” she whispered against the corner of his lips. Dean squirmed and spread his legs when he planted his feet flat on the floor to aid each of his thrusts. Gently, she placed her other hand around his neck to tip his head back and to the side to place a feverish kiss to his cracked, pillowy lips. 

She continued moving her hand along his length, from root to tip, playing with the precum that began to accumulate and stain the cotton of his underwear. 

Dean’s chest rose and fell quickly with each breath, attempting to hold off his orgasm. His thighs tensed, muscles constricting beneath thin dress pants as she twisted her hand up and down his cock inside his slacks and boxers. His lips moved desperately against hers and he swiped his tongue across hers, his brows furrowed in mind-numbing pleasure.

Dean’s fingers dug into her thighs on either side of his body, trying to keep himself stable as his hips bucked up into her hand, driving his cock faster through her fingers. Her hand squeezed at the sides of his neck and released to make his brain fuzzier, neurons hazed with lust and need. 

“Please… I wanna be inside you, baby,” Dean panted against her lips as she kissed him. Instead, she rapidly continued to tug at his cock, her fist wrapped tightly around him until he felt like exploding. “I can’t- please- I need you,” he begged, but never dared to stop her as her lips trailed away to his jawline, to suck a dark mark on the sensitive skin of his neck. 

She suddenly loosened her grip on his cock and slowly slid her slick palm up the front of his body. His orgasm began to fade away and his body slumped against hers, his chests heaving with each breath, his heart racing. Her lips brushed against his earlobe, “you’re right…” she murmured.

“A-about what?” He mumbled, lifting himself up to turn and face her. She was smiling at him when he gazed at her, her eyes soft and full of love, mirroring the much more dishevelled expression on his own, pink face. 

Her eyes flickered away from his dewy green eyes when he leaned into her. He watched them travel up his body, from his thigh pressing into the leather next to her leg, to his boxers shoved low on his hips, exposing curly, light brown hair, his unzipped slacks and therather belt hanging losing around his hips, up to the opened dress shirt and t-shirt beneath draped haphazardly over his chest, and then her eyes stopped at his mouth. 

She tilted her head and met him the rest of the way to press her lips against his, placing a soft, adoring peck. “I do think cowboys are fucking hot, especially you,” she smirked, scratching gently at the nape of his neck, playing with the tiny hairs behind his head.

Dean bit his lip, mirroring her expression, and hummed, “is that right?” She nodded, her other hand slipping down to tease the waistband of his boxers. Dean’s calloused hands travelled up her sides, sneaking beneath her long-sleeved shirt, up warm, soft skin. “I already knew, just wanted to hear you say it.”

She laughed shortly, allowing Dean to lift her thick shirt up and off her body. Dean’s lips came down to her neck, hot and open-mouthed kisses flushing her skin. His hands traced her sides and eventually hooked at the top of her leggings to pull down the material covering her legs. He carefully let her lay down as she shifted to fully remove her leggings and underwear. 

But she sat upright once more before Dean could settle between her warm legs. Dean remained fully clothed and he laughed against her breasts when she impatiently shoved his slacks and boxers lower. His hands remained firmly on her body, exploring inches of familiar skin—squeezing, pulling, and holding. 

His soft lips moved over the expanse of her chest, teeth nibbling on sensitive flesh, his wet tongue tasting her velvety skin. Her hands made their way down past his cock to cup his balls, which made Dean’s brow rise in pleasant surprise, his mouth freezing around her nipple. 

He moaned around her skin and brought his own hand down between her legs as his cock bobbed excitedly. Warm slick coated his fingertips when he slid his fingers through her folds. With a pleased hum, she reached back to grip the wooden handle of the couch, and gently pressed her palm against his balls. 

He played with her clit, coating it in her arousal, then buried his middle finger inside her. She bit her lip and arched her back, a jolt from his thumb pressing into her clit causing her to moan. She removed her hand from between his legs—much to his disappointment—to dig her nails into his taut thigh. 

Dean dragged his tongue across her chest to attend to her other breast and dipped a second finger into her. Her pussy fluttered around his scissoring fingers, she whispered his name, moving her legs over his hips in a more comfortable position. Her hand slid up to bunch up in his shirt as her thighs twitched, screwing her eyes shut as the pleasure dazed her. 

Her shift in position brought her centre closer to him and he pushed a third finger into her, working her open thoroughly, expertly. Her wetness drenched his thick fingers, making every push and pull swift and easy. They curled inside her, rubbing delectably at her g-spot, pressing delightfully into the most sensitive parts of her walls. Her toes curled and she lifted herself up higher in his lap, implicitly urging him to skip to the fucking.

Dean instantly did as she wordlessly requested and pulled his glistening fingers out of her warmth. He stroked his cock a few times, first, watching her watch him coat himself in her excitement. He looked back down between their flushed bodies when he began moving his cock through her dewy folds, moaning contentedly at the sensation of her against him. 

She unclenched her hand from his shirt to bring up behind his neck, her delicate fingers slipping between short hairs. Finally, Dean pushed himself into her deliberately, then out gradually. Over and over they created a rhythm.

With one foot on the floor and his knee pressing into the backrest, his hands gripping her hips tightly. His lips connected to any part of her he could reach, moaning and gasping softly against her skin with every clench of her pussy, every measured thrust to feel every inch of her slide across his cock. 

Her arm flexed behind her as she moved with Dean, her fingers gripping the wooden arm of the couch tightly, timing each roll of her hips with his. Occasionally, she met every one of his thrust and brought his face closer to her with her fingers curled around the back of his neck.

His breath dampened her already steamy skin and his hands started to wander lovingly over her shiny body, feeling the exertion of her muscles beneath his calloused palms. 

Gradually, they began to move faster against each other. 

Dean’s body built up more heat with the clothes still covering every inch of him. His mouth went dry with every open-mouthed breath and he searched for her lips as a tingle ran up his spine, his stomach clenching to foreshadow his impending orgasm. 

He felt her breath against his lips and her fingers moved deeper into his hair, tugging so his mouth fell open. Her lips moved over his, her wet tongue bringing moisture back into his mouth, and over his chapped lips. Dean kissed her back with so much more force, easing his tongue into her mouth when she pulled hers out to smirk into the kiss. 

He squeezed her ass, painfully pressing his fingers into her back, desperately trying to feel her against his body. He fucked into her briskly, with strong thrusts that pressed his cock deeper into her channel until she squirmed from how good it was. He swallowed her pleased groan and brought her closer with his arm around her waist and his palm flat against her back. 

Dean’s thrust became erratic, every slam of his hips and every roll of hers made contact with her clit, bringing her close to the edge with him. Every touch of each other’s bodies, every hot and lewd kiss, every heavy and fast breath, every breathless and pleasured sound, every wet and hot sensation built up like volatile chemicals.

With a few final thrusts, Dean came with a groan of her name by her ear. She squeezed his cock tightly and cursed at the sensation of his hot cum coating her insides. Her thighs pressed into his hips as she orgasmed with a sharp gasp, clinging to him as they rode out their climax.

Dean ground his hips up into her, keeping himself deep inside her as she shook and held him in a tight embrace. Their lips met once more for a softer, more elated kiss as they became blanketed in the afterglow of their release. She released the wooden arm of the couch to cup Dean’s scruffy jaw and Dean’s arms circled around her waist.

He moved backwards carefully and laid her down onto her back, allowing her to fully wrap her legs around his waist. Dean shoved his suit jacket and dress shirt off as they kissed. She smiled against his mouth and let him pull away fully from her lips to watch him throw both items onto his bed. 

“It was cold before, but it’s hot now,” he muttered, pulling his t-shirt up over his head by the back of the neck. She giggled and brought her hands to his ass, moving his pants and underwear lower, past his thighs. 

“Well…” she trailed off, gazing at him as he slowly pulled his cock out of her. “Hey,” she pouted, moving his attention away from the mess between her legs and the mixture of their spendings leaked out of her. 

“Uh, yeah?” He grinned, moving off the couch to kick off the cowboy boots, and everything else so he was fully naked before her. 

“Your last gift,” she started, looking over to the bed. Before returning to his spot between her legs, Dean followed her eyes and lifted a brow. “It’s under your pillow,” she smiled shyly, looking up at him as his lips parted and then made an ‘o’. 

“Awesome,” he murmured, making his way to his side of the bed. He searched underneath with a swipe of his hands beneath the cool pillow and grabbed the small, somewhat heavy box decorated with pink wrapping paper and a silver bow. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it curiously.

She laughed at him, taking the unused napkin from the table to clean herself up, which distracted Dean from his gift. He was about to protest, offering to clean her up, but she laughed. He pouted at her, but settled back in her arms in the same position as before once she finished.

“I really… really hope you like this one,” she whispered against his shoulder. Dean looked back at her and smiled softly—his eyes reassuring her that he’d like anything that came from her. He carefully pulled at one end of the bow to watch it fall apart into a straight line. 

He ripped the paper to reveal a wooden box. Dean imagined a necklace, if the thud against the soft cushion inside the box revealed anything about what it actually was. 

A ring? He planned on proposing, but he’d say yes if she turned the tables. He smiled at the thought, but he doubted that they were stepped enough into a normal life for that. If it were up to him, he’d have asked her to marry him ages ago. 

He opened the box slowly and blinked at the steel key. 

“A… key?” He asked out loud, turning his body to look at her as she waited for his reaction anxiously. 

“I… bought a house?” She squeaked, her cheeks turning dark. Dean’s lips parted. He wanted to question her, to make a comment about what the place looked like or where it was or how much it cost, to say anything, but his throat tightened and clogged any words from escaping. With his tongue heavy in his mouth, there was no hope to ease her anxiety. He shut it instead. “For you- us. You and me…” she rambled, wrapping her hand around his to shut the box as if it were Pandora’s box—unleashing her deepest fears, but worst of all, her hope. 

“I…” Dean trailed off, staring at the wooden exterior of the square container. A little box that would give him the future he’s secretly always yearned for with her. He was too much of a coward to ever do anything and go for it. Her hand moved away from his and she shifted behind him awkwardly, pushing him off her so he’d face her instead. 

“You don’t…” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “It’s okay, if you don’t want… this…” She snatched the gift away from him as if she’d show him her deepest secret and had been judged for revealing what it was. 

“No! I-I do want this,” Dean reassured her and quickly took it back to open it, and remove the key from inside. He placed it on his palm, cold, small, and light against his sweaty skin. “I just…” His eyes flickered up to hers, the guarded and nearly stony expression on her face twisting his stomach in regret. “I love you,” he breathed, pressing his lips against the corner of her lips. 

“Are you sure?” She bit her lip, her eyes dancing over his face to gauge any emotion or shift that would hint to reveal he was truly feeling. “I don’t want you to be unhappy… if you don’t want this, it’s okay. You can tell me. I have a backup gift anyway,” she shrugged casually, moving to sit on her legs next to him.

She gazed at the side of his face as he continued to make her heart plummet with the long stare at the key in his hand. 

“Why?” He asked with knitted brows, looking at her. He could tell she felt much more bare and vulnerable as she crossed her arms over his chest and kept herself covered with her own body.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to give it to you just yet,” she admitted. Dean frowned. “But after today… the way you followed me around and helped me.. I changed my mind,” she shrugged again, “but it’s okay if we both want something different, if you’re not ready… you know I’d wait…” She smiled nervously, so it didn’t last, and her mouth returned to a straight line.

“No more waiting, baby.” Dean shook his head and put the key back into the box, leaving it beside him to take her hands. He lifted them both up to his lips, staring into her eyes to demonstrate his earnestness, “you waited long enough.” 

“I promise you that I’m ready,” he reassured her, brushing his thumbs against her knuckles. “This gift… it means so much to me. I do, truly, love you.” Dean tugged her hands and she finally laughed, allowing herself to be happy with him. In this moment. And forever. No more waiting. 

As he held her, Dean pictured the future they could have together and let his body rest without fear of everything else going on. For once, he’d let himself be happy. It was the one way he could let go of Sam, allowing both himself and his baby brother a shot at a normal life, something Dean wanted for himself and Sam for so long. This was the first step to freedom. 

“Happy birthday, Dean,” she whispered against his forehead, kissing the tiny scar that resided there. 

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[holly-the-trash-writer]

Matt Smith x Singer/Actress!Reader

Told through Instagram posts

everything.y/n

Liked by y/nfan and 4,687 others

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

View all 1,487 comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

bbcdoctorwho

Liked by yourinstagram and 30,643 others

bbcdoctorwho Introducing The Doctor and Nancy 💙

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

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

View all 2,697 comments

yourinstagram

Liked by mattsmith, florencepugh and 302,584 others

yourinstagram 💙Nancy Sutton reporting for Tardis duty💙

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

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

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

I cannot wait to run across the universe with you.

View all 46,975 comments

florencepugh *Tardis Noise*

y/n 👽

y/nfan03 THIS IS EVAH REE THANGGGG

your.album.name She left no crumbs ☠️

mattsmith You're going to be great darling

Liked by yourinstagram

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

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

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

drwhofan the 60s look is SO GOOD 😍

E!news

Liked by matt.y/n.endgame and 13,843 others

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

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

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

View all 18,632 comments

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

matt.y/n.endgame STAY CALM

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

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

your.album.name

Liked by steph753 and 3,975 others

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

View all 542 comments

user754 where does she find the time. MY GOD

y/n.stan86 This is her era.

celebnews

Liked by yourinstagram, bbcdoctorwho and 84,964 others

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

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

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

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

mattsimp Theyre so f*in cute!!!!

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

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

celebtea These ppl clutching at straws. Its a PHOTOSHOOT!

yourinstagram75 LET US HAVE THIS

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

Liked by 567 others

yourinstagram

Liked by mattsmith, bbcdoctorwho and 102,754 others

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

View all 75,413 comments

tomholland2013 Someone call a doctor

yourinstagram I'm sick 🤭

Liked by mattsmith

bbcdoctorwho 💙

sadiesink_ what a lyric 😍😍

y/n.sutton CONFIRMEDDDDDDDDD

everything.y/n WE KNEW IT

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

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

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

mattsmith

Liked by yourinstagram, karengillan and 93,864 others

mattsmith Run with me forever, Nancy

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[b0w-ties-are-cool]

Baby Fever (Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader) [SMUT]

Summary: You are doom-scrolling on the internet and there are baby images and videos everywhere. You might just convince your boyfriend... (; SFW FOUND HERE

Warning(s): Baby fever obvi, suggestive language another obvi, cunnilingus (sorta ig), piv sex, breeding kink, soft!dom!doctor, unprotected sex, is "alien sex" something I need to include in the warnings?

Word count: 1,142

You had convinced your boyfriend, the Doctor, to get an actual phone so that you could send him TikToks. After about a week of trying to convince him he finally gave in. It was soon after that your for you page got delightfully plagued with videos of babies. These videos poured fuel on your baby fever ember.

You started saving them to your favorites and sending them to your boyfriend. Your baby fever started to get so bad that you had dreams about you and the Doctor having a baby. At that point, you didn't know if you were daydreaming or nightdreaming.

Babies took over your TikTok, Pinterest, and Instagram. You made mental notes of baby names that you liked. You knew that their name would have to be unique. You particularly liked Sailor, Zamora, Atlas, and Kya.

You are currently lying on the couch in your three bedroom apartment in Chicago. It has a grey-brown aesthetic with a grey couch and brown wooden coffee. You had a Roku TV, you turned on The Big Bang Theory just to have background noise as you scrolled on Pinterest.

You and the Doctor are babysitting your sister's kids. Technically her and her kids lived with you, you just take care of them because she has a night job.

You had gotten the 2 year old twins, Logan and Landon, to bed. You had bunk beds with rails for them. And there was a crib in there as well for your sister's 9 month old, Bella. You had tasked the Doctor with putting Bella to bed.

You hear footsteps approach you, and you look up to see the Doctor standing behind you.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" He asks as he shows you his phone that is open to his TikTok messages with all the baby videos that you sent him.

"...No..." You say awkwardly, "They were on my FYP."

"Apparently on your Pinterest too," He states, looking at your phone screen and raising his eyebrows.

"And Instagram..." You mutter, your face is burning.

The Doctor chuckles, "Got a bad case of the baby fever?"

"Yeeessss!" You whine and drag out the pronunciation of the e and the s. You sit up and turn around to face the Doctor. "Impregnate me goddamnit!" You shout playfully.

The Doctor laughs while mouthing 'no' and shakes his head at your shenanigans.

"That could be my Christmas gift!" You grin up at him, biting your lip mischievously.

"Your Christmas gift?" The Doctor questions, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows at you. There is a hint of a smile that he is trying to hold back.

"Yes!" You exclaim, "Or right now." You stand up from your spot on the loveseat and walk up to him, knowing exactly what to say to convince him. "Breed me, Doctor," You whisper in his ear.

Before you knew it, you were in your bedroom. The Doctor kisses and leaves marks on your neck. Your hand rests on the back of his head, your fingers tangled in his hair.

The Doctor discards his tweed jacket to the floor and you push his suspenders down his arms. You pull at each other's clothes until all that is left is your undergarments.

The Doctor picks you up and lays you down on your bed. He pulls your underwear off and eyes your cunt. You whine in pleasure as he licks a stripe up your folds. He kisses your clit and leaves open-mouthed kisses up your body until he gets to the band of your bra. The Doctor removes your bra and leaves kisses and hickeys on your beasts.

He massages your breast with one hand while the other rubs circles around your clit. You gasp when he slips two fingers inside of you.

He moves his hand from your breast to your cheek, he leans down and passionately kisses you on the lips. Your hands find his hair again, tangling your fingers in it, just about his ears.

You gasp slightly when the Doctor pulls his fingers out. He licks them clean then goes back to kissing you. He kisses a trail from the corner of your mouth down to your collarbone.

He moves his hands down your body until he gets to your thighs. "Lift your hips, my love." He tells you, when you do, he places your extra pillow under them.

The Doctor pulls his underwear off, you eye his hard cock. He leans closer, you moan slightly when rubs himself against your folds. He leans his face to yours and presses his lips to yours. "You want me to fill you up?" He asks against your lips. "Stuff you full of my seed?"

"Yes, Doctor, please," You whine and moan desperately.

He adjusts your thighs so that your legs wrap around his waist. He thrusts into you, bottoming out. You throw your head back, moaning. The Doctor kisses your neck then moves your head back up to kiss your lips.

He thrusts in and out, fucking you slowly, while you make out. You wrap your arms around his neck then move them down his shoulders. A small knot starts to form in your core.

"Doctor," You moan against his lips. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking the skin.

You move your hand down between you and the Doctor. Desperate for the knot to grow faster, you rub quick circles on your clit.

The Doctor grabs your wrist and moves your hand away. "No need to do that, darling. Just say you wanted to go faster." He whispers against your ear. "Is that what you want?"

You nod in response.

"Use your words my dear." He tells you.

"Yes. Please, Doctor." You mutter.

He picks up his pace, thrusting into you quickly. As he continues, the knot becomes tighter and bigger. You moan his name repetitively like a prayer.

"I'm close," You moan. You tangle your fingers in his hair, lightly pulling it. The Doctor's breathing faulters and he lets out a moan.

The knot in your core snaps. You throw your head back. Your cunt tightens around his cock as your orgasm hits.

The Doctor moans, he thrusts a couple more times before he stops, fully inside of you. His own orgasm hits, cumming inside of you.

He stays fully sheathed inside of you for a few minutes. He breathes heavily against the crook of your neck.

When he catches his breath his pulls out of you. He looks at your cum-filled pussy and scoops up an overflow and stuffs it inside. He places a kiss on your cunt then lays down next to you.

You turn your head to look at him. "We were supposed to be babysitting..." You mutter with a laugh.

"Babysitting, baby making. They go hand in hand." The Doctor jokes with a smile.

[arting-block]

I absolutely love your writing style & your 11th doctor fics 😊 I’m not sure what your opinions on writing poly ships are, but I’m a sucker for some fem reader x 11 and River, and was wondering if i could request something fluffy and sweet with reader thinking her feelings towards the both of them are unrequited due to River and the Doctor being together already, but of course relationships with the Doctors can always be so complicated so who says he has to love just one woman at a time, he’s got two hands for a reason 🙏❤️

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | Eleventh Doctor x F!Reader x River Song

❝𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.❞

Summary: You were just a companion, a friend to the two Time Lords. At least, you thought you were.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (not really lol), fluffy ending

Words: 6.1K

A/N: I'M ALIVE!!! This request sat in my inbox and I struggled a bit to not turn this into a fully fleshed out story. I swear this was meant to be a smol lil blurb, your honor. I sneezed and then 5k spat onto my screen idk it just happened I swear...Anyways, gonna try to get to my other requests soon 🫡

Ordinary is not in your vocabulary. Nothing in your life ever seemed ordinary the moment the Doctor offered an adventure in his bigger-on-the-inside box and a devilish smile. No one normal would have given their safety in exchange for life-threatening altercations with aliens, monsters, and the worst of the universe. You hated the ordinary, despised the monotony of everyday life.

You took the Doctor’s offer with a smile of your own, delight and mischief to complement. 

Everything was going well as far as you were concerned. Lives were saved, memories were made, and all the time in the world to do whatever. You were happy, plain and simple.

You embraced the unknown, thanks to the Doctor’s influence. Comfortable with the odd and unthinkable. 

At least you thought you were. 

With each adventure comes injuries. Most are minimal that heal in a matter of days. Others leave scars that are forever etched in your skin. Being the self-sacrificing stubborn human you were, you often became a shield to those in need. In this particular case you had gotten slashed by a knife in a tussle. 

It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it stretched from your collarbone to the side of your neck. Thin line of crimson and a sharp sting when air hit it. Annoying, yes, but nothing you couldn’t handle. 

Your traveling companion had a different view.

You groan, “I’m fine, seriously. There’s no need to fuss over a scratch.”

River, beautiful as she is stubborn, gives you a pointed look. One that borders a withering stare but since you’re you it comes off as scolding. 

“You nearly had your head off your shoulders. You’re lucky I was there to intervene,” came her grumbling response. 

Her fingers find your chin to tilt your head up, her face out of your line of sight as you stare up at the ceiling. You take the opportunity to roll your eyes at her need to coddle you. You’re a grown woman for Christ’s sake, perfectly capable of handling yourself. If anything you’ve encountered worse and had bounced back fine. 

Sure, the knife of your attacker came a tad too close to the artery on your neck. Hell, maybe if your reflexes didn’t kick in fast enough you would’ve had a much different night to spend. 

But those hypothetical scenarios were merely that. Hypothetical. You’ve walked away that fight with bruised knuckles and a shallow, 4 inch cut. 

You were fine. Perfectly capable of handling yourself—

River’s finger finds the hollow of your throat. 

Feather-light, just barely touching the skin. You feel her touch up along your neck sending a chill down your spine. Your breath hitched when it stopped just above your pulse point. Something tugs the strings in your chest. 

A dangerous feeling coils down in your core. 

River’s breath tickles your ear, “Breathe, darling. Can’t have you passing out on me.”

As if on command, your body responds eagerly. You force air to leave your lungs all at once. There’s a slight burn left behind and you're sure it’s not due to your withholding oxygen. 

You clear your throat, “Are you going to patch me up Doctor Song?”

It comes off shaky and quiet.

River’s hand leaves your face and you can finally see her. A curve of a smile and a glint in her eyes that leaves goosebumps. 

Your legs involuntarily shift close.

River gives a shrug, “You’re right, just a scratch. No need for fussing. Unless you want me to patch you up?”

You shake your head, “N-No, there’s no need. Thank you for offering though.”

There’s a painful squeeze in your chest. Regret.

River nods understandably, “I’ll be out of your hair then. Give a shout if you need me.”

You watch as she turns to leave. You can’t help but trace the curve of her hips as she approaches the door. Words clump in your throat, an impulse of a thought racing. Before you can act she crosses the threshold, the door closing behind her.

Somehow it stung more than the 4 inch cut on your throat.

Just a friend. Only a friend.

— — —

You tried to put the encounter with River as far removed from your mind as you can. It was just the heat of the moment, a little rise because it’s been ages since you’ve had a romantic relationship. Not that you needed one. You’re perfectly content with spending your time with the Doctor. Who needs romance when you’re traveling the universe with a quirky alien?…A hot alien.

A hot alien who is your friend. Nothing more.

“Is there something on my face?” the Doctor asked, swiping his chin for invisible crumbs.

His words snapped you out of your haze. Back to the present. 

“Wha—No! Sorry, lost in my own head. What were you saying?”

The Doctor presses a few buttons to prepare the TARDIS for travel, glossing over your admitting to not listening, “I was in the middle of explaining why going to Kaythrona would be a bad idea in comparison to Bouble-4A. Perfect this time of year—trees made of crystals and the water is perfect temperature year round. Perfect water, perfect temperature, perfect getaway!”

His smile is that of pure joy. Infectious to anyone, especially you. 

“Yeah, perfect! You have any plans when we arrive?” you asked, leaning against the console. 

You were an arm’s length away. At this distance you could smell the remnants of his earl gray tea from this morning clinging to his clothes. Wild hair that is tamed on the sides, the cut of his cheekbone, and the hint of stubble along his jaw. 

The Doctor whizzes about the controls with flair. Pushing, pressing, and pulling controls that look indistinguishable from one another. 

“Many, many plans. Oh, (Y/N) you’re gonna love the little markets along the coast. We could go to the seafood restaurant—no, the pearl mines! So much to do and lots to show you.”

The Doctor makes his way around back to you, bumping shoulders as he did so. He turns to you, excited to expose you to yet another world. 

You give him a small smile in return. Hoping your demure expression would hide the fluttering of your heart. 

Pulling the engine lever down, you feel the familiar rumbling of the TARDIS. The two of you grab onto the railing in hopes to not fall over. The Doctor reaches for the edge of the console, bracing himself. 

You, caught up in your fawning, didn’t properly latch onto the railing and nearly toppled over. A hand yanks your arm and you collide with a wall of wool and earl gray. 

“Don’t worry I got you,” the Doctor assured, his mouth nearly kissing against your ear. 

His hand migrates from your arm to your waist, pulling you to his side. Tight and secure. The shaking continues, but you’re much too focused on how warm the Doctor seems to be. His hand firm on your side, as if it was meant to be there. Your cheek against the scratchy wool of his coat just inches away from his hearts. 

Just a friend. Only a friend.

You grasp onto his jacket even though there’s a perfectly stable railing right in front of you. 

— — —

Ordinary didn’t apply to your life, so it would only make sense it didn’t touch your love life either. 

River once again joined you and the Doctor for another adventure. Surprisingly, one that didn’t involve intergalactic battles and executing a poorly planned heist. No, she just so happened to be in New York in 2023 at the exact same pizza parlor the Doctor is dragging you to. 

In the past few months you’ve come to realize that the odd feelings in your stomach and the nervous butterflies wasn’t just spur-of-the-moment anxiety. It only manifests when you are within proximity to either the Doctor or River. Anytime they slipped past your personal bubble, you felt the simmering heat in your stomach and a dizziness whenever they got too close. You didn’t realize how the three of you would be joined at the hip until you realized something. 

You love the Doctor…and River. 

It came crawling into your mind until it was all you could think about. Moments across the years playing over and over. You loved them both for so long but you played it off as platonic. It should’ve been obvious with how you hoard their attention and do everything in your power to be near them. Their laughs, praise, and happy moments shared between you set your heart ablaze.

Only problem is that they’re already married. They weren’t secretive either. Always flirting in the face of danger. Lingering eyes and a heated kiss when things got rough. They never hid their affection towards one another.

You were never jealous of them. The ache in your chest came from the fact that they would never share that with you. You were you and they were the Doctor and River Song. They had a history long before you and they seemed more than content with each other. 

River sat in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. The afternoon sun highlighted her golden hair like a halo. She was writing in that old diary of hers that resembles your beloved time-machine.

The Doctor walked in fast, measured steps while you tried to keep up. His hand on your back, guiding you through the people crowding around the cashier. The closer you stepped the more anxiety pools. 

River looks up from her diary with a wide grin. The one where it crinkles her eyes and makes you lose breath. 

“Hello sweetie,” she says, her words honeyed with affection. 

“Hello love,” the Doctor returns with a giddy smile. 

River’s gaze met yours. Her expression didn’t change, as if she was just as happy to see you. 

“We meet again, darling.”

Darling became her nickname for you as much as sweetie was for the Doctor. 

She’s just flirting, nothing special.

Your nails dig into your palms, “So it seems, Riv.”

The Doctor ushers you into the booth so you sit shoulder to shoulder. He rubs his hands together as he snatched a menu from the pile in the middle of the table. 

“Alright, what do we have here? Some good ol’ pepperoni, some cheese, and lovely sauce. I’m absolutely famished. Haven’t stopped to think, let alone eat something other than the ramen packets Y/N hoards,” the Doctor says. 

You snatched the menu from the Doctor, “So you were eating them! You said they could clog your arteries.”

The Doctor snatches the menu right back, “I said they could clog your arteries, not mine.”

“You made me believe I was going mad! Why couldn't you get your own?”

“‘Cause your room is closer…and less expensive.”

The two of you continue to bicker whilst the menu keeps being tugged mercilessly. Ramen packets changed to snoring habits (you were horrified that the Doctor snuck into your room when you were still in it) and the argument shifted to accusations. Most of which was you calling the Doctor a robber. The Doctor deflects and somehow blames you for being easy to rob. 

River watched the exchange with a tiniest of smiles. The Doctor with a hint of red at his ears, leaning forward. You with pinched brows and sharp words that you don't actually mean. So close the two of you were that your knees were touching and the air between was your mingled breaths. 

“Ahem,” River coughed rather obnoxiously. 

At the sound of her, the two of you ceased arguing. 

“Any louder and you’ll alert the whole parlor,” she scolds.

Luckily the busy little parlor was already loud with its many customers. Loud enough to drown the squabbling in your booth. Though the realization of how you might've looked made you and the Doctor slouch into your seats. 

River narrows her eyes, “If you're done arguing like petty school girls we could hurry up and order because I’m not sharing my food. Unless you wish to continue spilling each other's secrets for all of New York to hear.”

“Nope, we're done,” you say. You shoot her a grin in hopes to hide the fact that, yes, you will continue later.

River’s eyes shift to her husband, who avoids her stare.

“Yes, done-zo. No more arguing,” the Doctor affirms. He leaves out the “For now” at the end. 

River knows the little omissions. She doesn't voice it, instead rolling her eyes.

— — —

Lunch went by smoothly, all things considered. Food was served, pizza was eaten, and stories passed the time. The Doctor retold your fantastical adventures with some minor exaggeration (leaving out the mishaps as well). River bragged about her many archeological discoveries and Indiana Jones-esque quests to find legendary artifacts. 

As they retold, shared, and laughed at each other's fortune, you sat in your seat with sealed lips. As the time passed, the two of them leaned forward with biting grins. It was as if magnets in their chests pulled them nearer. 

You stayed put because in place of a magnet was a lump of sorrow that was weighing you down. You watched their banter go on and on, leaving you out. Their words turned personal, intimate with inside jokes. It was clear that although River and the Doctor weren't exclusive by any means, their love runs deeper than most. 

Their love for each other ran deeper, felt stronger only for them. 

Not for you. 

It hurts to watch them. It hurts to love them knowing they will never feel the same. You’re just a temporary blip in their long lives. They already have one another. Perfectly content with having you just as a companion. Because that’s all you are to them. In this moment, trapped in your bubble, you can see just how in love they are. In the middle of the table their hands are inches away from each other. The tips of their hands moving at a snail's pace towards the other, until they fold in where they meet. They don’t seem to notice the collision of hands, still conversing with one another nonchalantly. 

It’s an innocent gesture. Sweet and pure with its intentions. Perfectly their hands fit, you don’t think they could form against yours. They were perfect for one another. Witty mouths, playful eyes, and brilliant minds. 

Husband and wife. Vowed for one another. 

Your eyes don’t leave their hands, transfixed by your own spell of deep longing. 

The Doctor laughs at something River says. It’s a soft chuckle that pulls his lips and shakes his head. River stares unabashed with eyes so full of love that it tugs the strings in your chest. 

It makes you sick.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurt out. You felt too close, too warm in the booth. You need to get away from them both. 

The Doctor and River glance at one another. A pointed look that could hold entire conversations. Moments ticked by before the Doctor scoots out of his seat to let you pass. You all but sprinted out of the booth and made a bee-line to the bathroom. 

It was a small, dank space with dark brown walls and one lighting fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The harsh lighting and tight space was far from cozy and inviting, but you are glad to have made it out. Your breathing became more shallow, tears started to burn into your eyes. You stare into the warped reflection in the mirror. 

Tiredness smudges around your eyes. Your lower lip is cracked from the constant tugging and swiping of your tongue. Edges of your shirt wrinkled from how tightly you were holding onto it. 

You don’t know how long you stared at yourself. Lines around your face blur as the tears start to flow. Down your face, into the valleys of cheeks, and into the porcelain sink. Another falls, then another, until you can’t help but sob into your hand. 

— — —

Minutes tick by. The pizza being shared was now specks of crumbs. 

Your companions sit idly, waiting for your return. 

“Is it just me, or is (Y/N) a bit quiet today?” the Doctor mused, looking behind him to see the closed door of the bathroom. The red sticker on the lock gnaws at his mind. 

River rubs her thumb over the Doctor’s hand, “Why don’t you ask her? She’s your companion.”

The Doctor turns back to her, “Why don’t you ask her? Everytime I see you two, you can’t keep your hands off one another.”

His words don’t have any malice. If anything, it was more of a jab at how horribly River hides her affinity towards you. Always doting on you with small trinkets and tight hugs. The soft drawl of her “darling” seemed much too intimate, too loving to be platonic. 

River’s smile is sharp, her words quick, “Says the man who whimpers whenever she wears a tight dress.”

As quick as her words came, the image of you a week ago floods his mind. 

Silk gloves, the shine of your skin, the color of your lipstick. It was a gala out in a different galaxy and the Doctor found it hard to resist your puppy eyes. 

You begged him to dress up, to match with your dress. He mutters, whines, and begrudgingly says yes. Not because he didn’t want to go, but because he knew of the outcome of seeing your dress. 

A deep blue, nearly black, with delicate lacing and gemstones. Simple, lavish, and complimented your body beautifully. The neckline perfectly snug against your chest, bodice hugging your waist, and when you turned around—

The whole of the Doctor’s face flushes a bright pink. He sputters, tone harsh, “I do not. It’s called being flustered. I’ll have you know that I—stop laughing.”

The Doctor’s plea falls on deaf ears as River let out a choked giggle. Her hand covers her mouth, but the edges of her smile still peek through. Seeing the Doctor flustered over a girl never fails to make her laugh. 

“I was…only teasing!” she let out between giggles. The expression the Doctor made, all grumpy like a cat, made her sides hurt. 

The laughter dies down. River dabs her eyes and massages her tired cheeks. The Doctor’s hearts swells at her joy, even if it was at his own expense. 

The Doctor looks over his shoulder once more. Your door is still locked with no one in line. An uneasy feeling lodges in his chest. Your usual bright, happy attitude was strangely absent. A few times you chimed in, relaying your own version of a story the Doctor purposefully miscounted. 

You weren’t sad, at least the Doctor didn’t seem to think so. Empty was a more appropriate word. Stuck in your own head thinking God knows what. 

“Did you hold up your end?”

River’s questions shocked the Doctor out of his own thoughts.

The Doctor narrows his eyes, “I don’t recall making a bargain with you. I thought we agreed that if we were drunk that it doesn’t count.”

River rolls her eyes, “I’m talking about (Y/N). I told you to talk to her about…” she gestures to the space between them. 

The Doctor mimics her movements, confusion still present in his face, “What’s this? What did I agree to?”

“Us! You agreed to talk to (Y/N) about us. You told me that you would drop hints about it,” River scans the Doctor’s face for any recognition. She sees the realization dawn on him, and the guilt settling in. River can’t help but curl her lips into a snarl, “You didn’t do it, did you?”

“How am I supposed to?” he threw his hands up in exasperation, “It’s bad enough as it is that I get all light-headed and fuzzy when she’s near me. You hear me? Light-headed and fuzzy. I didn’t think that was possible—no I was certain it wasn’t possible. At least with you, you made all the moves from the get-go. What if she doesn’t like me back?’

River shoved her leg under the table, earning a strained “ow” from the Doctor, “You stupid oaf! Of course she likes you! Smartest man in the universe, yet you couldn’t use your big brain of yours to notice her signals? A cyberman could figure it out for goodness sake.”

The Doctor slumped back into his chair, dumbfounded. He would be lying if he said he didn't notice how close you were with him. But you're close with everyone. Always friendly, open with your emotions. 

River was the one to bring up a potential relationship. Nudging the Doctor towards you, trying to get him to open up. Every time he mentions anything romantic, it never seems to come out right. Words jumble in his head and his tongue knots in his mouth. On the off chance he does something “romantic”, you would always—unwaveringly—call him a friend. He has to pretend that the word doesn’t make his teeth grind against each other. 

The Doctor swirls the colored straw in his glass of soda. The ice clinking against glass and the residual carbonation sizzling out. 

Ice. Cracking. Sizzling out into the inky depths of the cola, almost black in the dim lighting.

Something in his brain clicks.  

— — —

10 minutes passed before someone banged on the bathroom door. 

“Can you hurry up man! You’re holdin’ up the line!” an angry, muffled voice yelled. 

You furiously wiped your face, collecting all the remaining tears with paper towels. A couple splashes of water to soothe your puffy eyes before you unlock the bathroom. You were greeted with a cross, stout man with too much hair on his chest and not enough on his head. He grumbled something before making his way around you. No one else stood behind him. 

The restaurant died down with only a few tables left occupied and the setting sun spilling through the windows. You drag yourself towards the booth the Doctor and River were situated in. Your steps get slower as the distance gets shorter. Dread builds into you; your mind conjures the image of their exclusion towards you. 

Voices, familiar and warm, could be heard. They were more hushed than before, perhaps due to the lack of other customers to drown out their noise. As you round a corner, you see River and the Doctor hunched towards one another. You can only see River’s stern expression before her eyes immediately spot you. Relief sags her shoulders. At her expression, the Doctor whizzed around to greet you. 

You stopped in front of them, seeing their ruffled clothes and fidgeting body language. You were gone for a few minutes, so why did they look…disheveled? River’s usual glossy curls were frizzy around the edges; wild strands sticking to and fro. The Doctor’s shirt looked wrinkled and bowtie skewed at an odd angle. 

Did they…? No, you weren’t gone for that long.

“Sorry I took so long. Long line and no toilet paper,” you lie with a monotone voice. You didn’t put any energy into making it believable, hoping they would get the hint to not question you. 

The Doctor sprang up from his seat with an expression that seemed much too happy to be innocent.  

“Change of plans. River had just informed me that at this very moment, there is a comet passing by in—” he checks his watch, “ —Yosemite, California. Super beautiful, gorgeous color. Isn’t that right Riv?”

River nods, fast and eager, “Sure is, sweetie. I’ve had enough of the city, wouldn’t you say?”

Their odd behavior rang alarm bells in your mind. A prank? You doubt River would be the type to follow along with a malicious prank. The Doctor, however…

You let out an exhausted sigh, “Could this wait later? Tomorrow?”

“Nope! Can’t wait, lots to see!” came the Doctor’s reply. 

The Doctor placed his hands on your shoulders to steer you to the front door. Your feet nearly tangle together, practically stumbling down the empty street with River not too far behind. You find your footing just fast enough so that you can speed walk without the Doctor trying to knock you over. 

“Guys, slow down. Doctor, I can walk just fine y’know,” your shoe gets caught onto a piece of sidewalk, making you jump slightly. It doesn’t deter the Doctor, still hellbent on shoving you down the street. You turn to your side, eyeing River, “Could you please explain to me what’s going on? Why are you guys acting weird?”

River’s cherry red lips stretched to a smile (Did she just apply it?), “Spoilers.”

Your friends’ odd behaviors made you question if you’re being kidnapped by shapeshifters. Not an impossible scenario, but would explain why they’re suddenly so hyper. The Doctor made a sharp turn into an alley. You see the TARDIS with its vibrant blue against the red brick of the buildings beside it. 

Something’s wrong. 

“The TARDIS was parked a few streets down. Why is it here?” you questioned, distrust lacing your voice. 

The Doctor sent a worried look towards River, who looked caught off-guard. 

“We…thought it was best to move it closer so you didn’t have to walk far,” River explains. It comes out quickly. Too rushed and uneasy to make it truthful. 

The Doctor gave a smile, too wide for your liking. 

You cross your arms over your chest, “If you don’t spit it out already I’m not getting into the TARDIS. I’m honestly a bit freaked out right now.”

“We, uh…” the Doctor moves his hand, trying to come up with something, “We can’t tell you.”

You scoff, looking at River to see if she will spill. 

River shrugs, “You’ll have to come inside the TARDIS to see.”

You wrestle with the idea of accusing them of being aliens with perception filters. It could explain their odd appearance and eagerness to get you to the TARDIS. Were the real Doctor and River Song trapped somewhere. Is this a trick of the mind? 

The Doctor hand tugs yours. Secure and warm. His expression calms, “It’s a surprise,” he indulges. 

River unlocks the TARDIS, holding the door open, “A big one.”

The Doctor and River take your hands, interlocking them. The action sends your mind blank. Soft, warm. They hold tightly, flushed against your clammy palms. Your heart stutters, finally registering what’s happening. You’ve held their hands many, many times. It wasn’t unusual to see you link hands with either of them. 

This. It feels different. 

They all but pulled you inside, the destination already on display and the engine ready to go. 

— — —

Cool air kissed your face, greatly contrasting the warm New York temperature. Grass met your feet instead of concrete. Stillness you’d always associate with nature instead of the bustle of busy streets. 

“Is the blindfold really necessary?” 

You fight the instinct to rip the cloth off your face, but your hands are preoccupied with being held by your companions. River to your left, the Doctor on your right. Their other hands find the small of your back, guiding you forward. 

“Almost there, darling,” River assures. 

You bite back a groan. One foot in front of the other as best as you could. Each one was wobbly; unsure of debris blocking your path. The hands along your back tighten, trying to steer your uncoordinated body towards the destination. 

You smell the familiar scent of firewood in the air before you hear the crackling.  

The walking stops and hands leave your body. You hear the rustling of fabric and stray giggles of the Doctor. River hushes him. 

Your fingers twitch at your side. The cotton of the Doctor’s bow tie is soft yet strangely secure on your head. You're trying to piece together what they’re trying to show you. Nothing seems to add up. Is it a holiday? A prank? Was it a birthday?

You hear footsteps and feel two hands on your shoulders. 

“Keep your eyes close, yeah?” the Doctor whispers, tugging his bow tie off your eyes. 

You sigh, “Doctor, what are you trying to do?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond. You don’t know his facial expression or any sort of clue towards his motivations. But you feel the gentle hold of his hand. Warm palms picking up your fingers, thumb tracing the peaks of your knuckles and the valleys of your skin. 

Almost like…

“Ready,” River announced, a bit distant from where you are standing. 

The Doctor leans close, his hair tickling your temple, “Open your eyes.”

It took you a few blinks to adjust your eyes. The inky darkness of night contrasts the warm, inviting fire light. 

River stands next to a picnic blanket with the most lush pillows you’ve ever seen. Movie snacks are piled in the corner and in the middle a neatly wrapped box with an obnoxious bow. In front of the picnic blanket was a small, orange fire surrounded by a ring of rocks. The flames crackle loudly, providing warmth against the lowering temperature. 

“What…How? Why?” Was all you could muster. You take a few steps closer, unsure of how to process this. 

You focus on the box. Dark wrapping paper with shining gold stars to accent. The flickering fire made the glitter on the stars twinkle. The bow nearly swallowed the top of the box with ribbons cascading down. Your eyes flicker to the pile of snacks. Your favorite snacks. Even some ramen packets. 

The Doctor spoke up, “Hope you’re not too full from the pizza. Though, come to think of it, we may have left the drinks back in the TARDIS. River suggested wine but I’m already buzzed from my own endorphins.” His words were a bit fast, almost nervous. 

“But why? Is there something special about today?” you ask. 

River smiled, “November, 1826.”

There’s something familiar about the date. It tickled your memory, but nothing clear. 

“Our first adventure together. The three of us,” The Doctor clarified. 

It felt as though the Doctor’s words swept all air from your lungs. Of course, how could you forget? 

You are certain it was years ago. Keeping track of time on the TARDIS is finicky at best, but you felt the time pass as evident by the scars on your skin and fine lines dotting your face. You were still wide-eyed and naive, not yet comprehending the dangers of the universe. The Doctor was still odd and new to be around; still getting used to your presence at his side. 

There was a galactic cruise ship, nearly swallowing Pluto in size. Parts of the memory are hazy in your mind. You forget if it’s you that urged the Doctor to go or the Doctor dragging you out. Whatever the case was, you found yourself onboard and immediately lost, tipsy from the wine given. 

River found you then. It wasn’t ‘til later that you realized that River was actually seeking you out. In your eyes, it was the first time seeing her. To her, she had already had a tone of familiarity when your name rolled off her tongue. 

Turns out River had organized a heist to return stolen goods that were aboard the cruise ship. Fighting and mishaps ensued until the Doctor managed to hoard the goods aboard the TARDIS and return them to their rightful spots. 

At the end of it all, the three of you had just so happened to be above the Earth at the same time as Biela’s comet. 

You remember your legs dangling off the edge of the TARDIS, dark splotches along your legs where bruises formed. The Doctor and River lean against the doorframe, silent in their awe. The first of many mishaps and adventures the three of you would create. 

They took you to the exact day—the exact time—

“Why?” you whispered. Everything came rushing all at once. Stolen glances, longing stares, the uncomfortable beat of your heart. Memories of the three of you or just intimate moments with either of them. You swallow the lump in your throat, “I just…don’t understand.”

The Doctor took your hands once again. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. 

“We love you (Y/N). For a while now, actually.” 

His delicate words hit you like a gust of wind. Your head snapped up, eyes wide and fearful. The Doctor’s usual happy facade is gone, any humor wiped from the planes of his face entirely. His hands grip onto yours a bit harder, enough to ground you. 

After a few moments, your brain finally stills. Anxiety still grips your muscles and tightens your chest, but you manage to sputter your thoughts out coherently. 

“I love you guys too,” you grin against the onset of tears starting to fall. You didn’t move your hands from the Doctor’s, so you simply let them cascade down your face. You shakily inhaled, continuing, “For so long I thought you guys wouldn’t feel the same. Even now…”

Two hands appear at your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the salty tears. The Doctor smiles and you don’t mistake the glisten in his eyes as well. 

You turn towards River who stands near the blankets with the present pressed tightly against herself. The fire gives her golden hair a bright orange hue, surrounding her with a divine glow. The way she looks at you made your skin flushed; so full of adoration, as if you were the most breath-taking sight. 

Stepping towards the blond with the Doctor, you try to meet her gaze head-on. You stopped once you got close enough to see the dilation of her eyes. For a second a flicker of something else flashed in her green eyes. 

“Breathe, darling,” she teased. At her command, you let out the breath you were holding. She hands you the box, never breaking eye-contact, “Consider it an anniversary gift.” 

The choice of words makes your eyes widen. The box seemed a bit hefty in your hands. You gave it an experimental shake, feeling something large and solid moving. You gripped the end of the ribbon and gave it a tug. Silky ribbon buckled, folding into itself until it completely unraveled and slipped from the box. Pulling open the top you saw a large blue book nestled inside. 

TARDIS blue, you noted. 

River takes the empty box while the Doctor ushered you onto the picnic blanket. There were no words embellished that gave any indication as to what the book was about. Flipping the cover open, you were met with a mostly blank page, save for the text stamped in the middle:

“For the love of our many lives. A companion, friend, and most importantly, the reason the Universe doesn’t seem so cold.” 

Tears nearly blurred your vision, but you managed to wipe them away to flip to the next page. 

A collage of photos filled the pages. Some were candid, others in black in white, most of them had you in them. There were pictures you had captured on an old film camera you snagged when you were stuck in the 70s. You were quite surprised to see snapshots of you doing mundane activities. Your head was turned away from the lens, completely focused on some task in front of you. There were a few pictures with you and River and some with all three of you. 

Years of memories stored in the pages of the book. Some far back to the earliest days of your travels. 

The rest of the night blurred into happy tears and hearty laughs. You snuggled between the two Time Lords flipping through the photo album filled with your fondest memories. 

The insecurities felt in the cramped bathroom in the middle of New York seemed so far away. Years of anxiety curdling in your stomach finally bloomed into something sweet. They loved you. They wanted you. They planned everything out for you. You felt it in their gaze, their warm touches. 

“Tonight,” the Doctor whispered, “It’s all about you.”

As Biela made her visit, shining brightly amongst the twinkling stars, you realized that somewhere out in the sky, your past selves were observing the same scene. 

Staring out into the vast expanse of space, you hoped the love that swelled your heart could be felt millions of miles away. That your shared laughter transcended the atmosphere and carried to the passengers of the TARDIS floating above Earth. 

You hoped that somewhere out there, your future selves are looking over, sharing this experience across time and space. 

[yeehawbrothers]

Request Prompts <3

REQUESTS-Open! :)

Please read my request rules here before requesting.

Obviously these aren't required for requests, but I think it's fun to use them.

I've gathered these throughtout the internet, so if you see one you've written, let me know and I'll tag you!

Feel free to mix and match, change wording, or anything of the like!

Please make sure to be as specific as possible if you have a certain storyline you'd like me to follow.

Angst prompts:

"Leave. Leave right now."

"Can you just fuck off already?"

"I can't do this anymore. Not with you."

"Pack your shit and go. Get the hell out of my sight"

"You ruined everything."

"I'm going to leave now, before I say something I regret later."

"This wouldn't even be a problem if you didn't make one out of it"

"You were supposed to be my safe place. But all you've brought me is pain. How great is that?"

"If you hate me so much, kill me. Kill me already. It's not like I've got much to live for anyways."

"They told me not to trust you, but I didn't listen."

"You...why did it have to be you?!"

"You lied to me! Over and over again!"

"Hey...Hey...stay with me."

"Oh my...what did they do to you?"

"It's okay, its just me."

"I didn't know where else to go."

Fluff prompts:

"Flea markets don't carry fleas you know?"

"Are you serious? Your getting blood all over my carpet!"

"I am not wearing a dress/tie!"

"It's a Texas thing"

"Not everyone is out to get you. Stop thinking that shit. It's getting annoying."

"What are we?" "A mess."

“I just woke up can you give me a minute before you start being weird.”

“It’s literally two am, shut up.”

"Let me be a mom for a second and tuck you in."

"If you can't sleep...we could have sex?"

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to punch you."

"Please put your penis away."

"Why are you on the table?" - "Better view of my life." - "Where's the spider?" - "By the door."

"Shut up and get in the closet."

"Listen, I don't mind cuddling. But if you wake me up again I'll whoop your ass."

"I'm an insomniac, this is normal."

"Listen...I didn't know it was illegal."

"Stop messing with your IV."

"I'm pretty sure this place in haunted."

"Hold my hand you asshole"

"Did...Did you just bark at that guy?"

"Awww yay what a nice reunion! Now come fucking help me"

"We are not picking up the free chair" - "Why not!!?" - "Because that shit is 100% haunted."

"Why are you so mean to me?" - "You cannot take the child home."

"I love you so much I'm gonna bite you."

Song prompts:

If you want me to write a story based on a song, send me the link in the request. Please keep in mind, like with anything, I'm not going to force myself to write something if I'm not feeling it.

All the love-A.

[cloginthedrain]

a day in (eleventh doctor x reader)

summary: reader reflects on her curiously romantic, unspoken relationship with the doctor. cuteness ensues.

masterlist

word count: 1391

content warning/notes: fem!reader, no use of y/n; heated kisses, doctor/reader implied sex. first time. lots n lots of banter n fluff, unspoken moments between doctor/reader, undefined relationship, lots n lots of musings!

other notes: hiya, it's been awhile. thanks for all the love on my past fics in the recent months! this has been in the making for quite a bit, hope u all luv it :) !!! no promises, but hope to write more soon. until then, enjoy!

—

From the moment your eyes flutter open, you’re rendered dumb at the sight of him. 

He’s tucked serenely into your side with his arms holding you gently but firmly and his breathing soft and steady. 

It wasn't all too unusual for the Doctor to find his way in your room, more particularly, your bed, in the late hours of the evening. (That is, in the least strict sense of the word, what time was it really in the Tardis anyway?), and disappeared into the earliest hours of the morning. And he didn't think you'd notice!

Sometimes, you managed to catch him as he crept into your room, sometimes with a fistful of his tie quickly discarded and swallowed into the lived-in "mess" of your room (you'd found quite a few ties at this rate!), his suspenders hanging forgotten at the side of his trousers. You'd look up at him, full of sleepy admiration for your Doctor. 

As he climbed in beside you, you would manage a groggy, "Hi, sweet boy." Or some disgustingly endearing variation. He’d press kisses lazily to your neck.

Your eyes would fall heavy, and wake up with your limbs tangled and intertwined. Other times, much like tonight, you’d find him, well, like this.

You took special care to note how his sweet, familiar figure is fuzzy in the dim light, with just the tiniest sliver of light invading your otherwise dark bedroom. It’s the sliver of light that allows you to take him in. You brush away the stray strands of hair that had fallen into his delicate, crinkled eyes. Your chest is warm, listening to his breath sputter and stutter with every gentle inhale and exhale.

Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, still overwhelmed with the intimacy of it all. 

It was so curious, seeing the Doctor like this. So vulnerable with the sweet lines of his lips, barely parted, and the eyelashes that barely brush his cheek, so delicate. 

God, he’s just so brilliant, you thought to yourself, so effortlessly beautiful. Just so radiant, you thought, as you cradled his face gently.

It was somehow so much more intimate than the moments he instinctively grabbed your hand, the forehead kisses he stole, listening to his incoherent rambling—all the sweet moments that rushed to the surface of your mind.

And despite it all, all of it remained unspoken, unsaid. It was incredible, all of the liberties he’s taken with you: shy forehead kisses, sweet whispers, the trend of well-meaning “outings” (that suspiciously resembled dates) that inextricably but unsurprisingly ended in disaster, destruction, and/or utter chaos. And now, the bed sharing. 

He would mention none of it, not a lick of it, as if it were all business as usual.

As your predicament rushed to the forefront of your mind, your eyes burned into the greyish, grainy ceiling.  

So much for sleep. 

—

Your eyes fluttered open and met with the cold, empty space beside you. Your eyes had fallen heavy, evidenced by the sleep in your eye, but you can’t quite pinpoint when.

Sweet humming came from the hall, and the tiny sliver of light prevailed.

So you pull your comforter tighter around you, and can’t help but beam and flush at the sight of steaming, hot coffee beside you, illuminated by the warmly lit desk lamp.  

Somehow, as if he were magic, he always managed to know right when you’d stir awake. 

You could hardly contain yourself when you saw the purple post-it stuck to your nightstand, a slightly smeared, wonky little heart drawn in black ink.

Needless to say, your heart was doing flips. 

Bleary-eyed, but sobered-up by the all too sweet gesture, you wandered aimlessly down the hall, comforter dragging along the cold metal floor, feeling the sting of cold metal through your fluffy socks, following the sweet song. 

You reach the console room, coffee held warm up against your stomach. 

He captured your gaze quickly as he looked up, his eyes brimming with a glimpse of adoration before shying away for the sight of you. You took care to haphazardly rub the sleep from your eyes with your free hand.

“Sorry darling,” The Doctor mumbled sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

He turned away, shyly, back toward the console while his hands linger on the lever.

“”s alright,” You breathed as you occupied the space beside him, leaning against the console. “Didn’t wake me.” 

You took a sip of coffee. 

His hand tightens, having only narrowly avoided lingering on the recent memory of the way your lounge sweats hugged the curve of your hips. He maintains his composure, adding softly, “Coffee, okay?”

Cheeks burn at the reminder of the coffee he brewed you. 

“Perfect.”

“Good,” He laughed good-naturedly, looking down at you now, overcoming his fit of shyness. “Otherwise, you’d have my head.” 

“Precisely,” you say, and after a moment of comfortable silence, you add, “So, what’s on the agenda today? I haven’t the slightest idea.” 

“You know me, I’ve got kinds of ideas,” The Doctor pauses, “But I think I’d much prefer to stay in.” 

“Stay in?” You’re baffled to say the least. The Doctor was certainly not the type to stay in, burning through activities seemingly a mile-a-minute. 

“Yes, stay in! Don’t look so shocked.”

“Oh, but I am,” You playfully interjected, “Doctor, last I suggested it, you could hardly stand it!”

“Yeah, well,” He shifted, and said tenderly, “you like staying in. I don’t know, I’d like to think I’ve had a change of heart.”

You paused, warm at a display of his thoughtfulness, and quite frankly, a bit antsy at the slight hint of suggestion. “Yeah?” 

“So let’s stay in,” He scrambled past you, making a beeline for the library, the one with the swimming pool. 

“Alright, we’ll stay in,” You roll your eyes at his antics, but you’re not-so secretly pleased.

—

You’re sat up, propped up by your headboard and your excessive amount of pillows, deep into your second read through of Wuthering Heights, or, well, you would be, if it weren’t for the Doctor’s irritatingly fond gaze on you when it should be on his own book. 

You’re agitated and bothered, and god do you want to snog him.

“Yes?” You ask, exasperated, looking at him with your frown fixed and eyebrow quirked; your agitation more than apparent.  

“Nothing,” He says, eyes darting. 

You turn the page of your book, trying to hide your knowing smirk. This is how it starts. 

Sitting up straighter, you notice how he inches closer out of the corner of your eye.

You flip to the next page, his breath on your neck is fucking tantalising. 

Fuck, is all you could think, with your mind dwelling a little too long on all of the sweet possibilities. 

He makes a decision for you, grabbing the book from your loose grasp. 

You yelp, “I was reading that!”

“No, you weren’t,” is all he said before he finds himself on your lap, hastily pressing desperate kisses to your lips, paying sweet, special attention to your bottom lip.

You can’t keep track of your hands. You’re grasping and pulling at strands of his hair on the back of his neck, smoothing your hand over the surface of his back, grabbing his chest, his waist. 

In the midst of it all, he stops, breath uneven, and he takes a good look at you, smoothing your hair with the curl of his hand. You know right then, he’s going to take good care of you.

—

You’re light-headed, and your head’s spinning from the mind-bogglingly great sex you just had. Your head’s just barely being held up by the palm of your hand and your elbow, as your eyes flutter open and shut. Needless to say, you’re exhausted.

“So,” He starts, and pauses. 

“So, what?” You look up at him, hair damp and face glowing. 

“That was good.”

“I’d say so,” You say, cheeks flushing. Though, you might add that “good” is a gross understatement.

“We should do it again sometime,” He adds teasingly, his fingers now tracing the edge of your face, your jaw tingling.

“I think so too.”

“Good,” He says, and this time he presses a kiss to your forehead.

And God does that does you in, your eyes finally flutter shut, your tummy warm and your mind mush.

—

likes and reblogs and comments appreciated! encourages me to create more content for you! <3

[gracesimp]

Who is he?

eleventh doctor x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n finds herself displaced in a different universe. There, she meets the doctor. One problem...He's already met her.

(part two to Who is she? But you don't need to read part one to understand.)

based on the 'reader hops through the doctors time stream' trope hehe - its my fav, what can i say?

Y/n landed with a harsh thump and the odd golden light that had encircled her body began dissipating almost immediately after.

"Blimey, my head." She groaned, groggily. But she didn't have much time to focus on her soon-to-be bruised body as her attention was shifted to her surroundings. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around, having no luck in finding anything familiar.

Y/n was cautious when she stood on her feet, and even more so when she crept around the corridor she had found herself in. Her steps halted at the sound of mixed voices. Still feeling a little nauseated, her hand clung onto the corner wall with a tight grip to keep her situated, while her head peered around as stealthily as she could master.

A tall man, dressed in tweed and a questionable bow tie, was flapping his arms around happily, conversing with an equally tall man and a redheaded woman.

The bow tie man hopped around a circular table, smiling wide and pressing buttons. She watched, uncertain at what to do, when his back suddenly tensed and his smile dropped a little, only to come back brighter than before. His head snapped up and he locked eyes on Y/n, making her audibly gasp. Her feet stuck to the ground and refused to move - despite her minds best persuading efforts.

"Y/n!" He yelled with glee, his own two legs running to her, arms opened wide, but slowing at the fear on her face. "Y/n?"

She gulped, feigning confidence as she demanded with force. "Who are you? How do you know who I am?"

And with those simple words, the Doctor's hearts broke. His lips parted slightly, attempting to release words, or even just a noise, but no sound could escape. Meanwhile his arms fell from the welcoming stance they had naturally taken.

Growing impatient; also ignoring the own erratic beat of her heart, Y/n crossed her arms across her chest and raised an unimpressed brow. "Well?" She prompted.

"Y/n," He began slowly, words spilling out in nothing more than a hushed whisper. "Please tell me you know who I am."

She observed him for a few seconds, her eyes raking down his strangely attired body before meeting his eyes once more. "Never seen you before in my life." She concluded.

A strangled noise pushed through his throat and came out of his mouth as he stared ar her, desperately clinging onto the hope that this was just a cruel trick. But when he looked into her eyes, he could see the utter confusion and perhaps a little bit of fear that he'd never seen in her before.

And when she looked into his, she was unable to see the sorrow which now roamed in the green.

"Doctor," The redhead called, hand wrapped tightly around the other man's as she dragged him to join the doctor and Y/n. "What's going on?"

The doctor stilled shortly, before allowing a small smile to grace his features. A smile that could now pass as genuine to Y/n, but only now that she hadn't the faintest idea of who he was. In the past, or her future, depending on how you look at it, Y/n would be the first to see through his tries at acting okay, and she'd offer comfort and love.

So now, when he concealed the pain he held with a tight lipped smile, and she didn't say a word, his hearts broke further.

As his hearts held so much love for her, but in her eyes, he was merely a stranger.

"Y/n, meet Amy." He said softly, hand gesturing to the woman. "And Rory."

"What do you mean?" Amy quizzed, Rory sporting the same puzzled expression as his wife. "We've already met. Tons of times."

"You have. But she hasn't." The Doctor vaguely explained.

Y/n huffed, squinting at the exchange before finally losing her tether and snapping. "Would someone, please, tell me what the hell is going on here? I just want to go home."

The Doctor rubbed a hand down his face, needing to think about how to articulate the words he was preparing to speak. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. But you're a long way away from home now."

Her head whipped to him fast, missing the sympathetic glances Amy and Rory shared. "What do you mean? How far?"

He sniffed, tilting his head to the side, his face also taken over by pity. "You've travelled to a different universe." He stated, words spoken soft as if to lessen the impact. "And travel between parallel worlds is impossible."

Y/n's eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. "No, it's not!" She claimed, denying his words. "You just said I did it, so take me back."

"I can't. You're an exception. It should be impossible - even to this day I'm at a loss of how you managed it." Though he couldn't tell her, at that moment, how grateful he was that she did.

I did intend for this to be longer, but considering I haven't posted for a while, due to starting some medication that's making me a little bit drowsy for a while, I figured this would be okay :). First 11 fic. Hopefully more to come.