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#eleventh doctor x river song
twosomeofcuteness · 4 months
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River's too busy planning a prison break to be contacted when someone finds him. She said send him to my parents, they can deal with him.
Inspired by this post
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arting-block · 6 months
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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
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❝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 🫡
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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. 
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analieninabox · 2 years
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Can we please have a companion who just tries to gaslight their way out of dangerous situations while The Doctor figures out a plan? Like:
Dalek: You are a friend of The Doctor!
Companion: *standing next to The Doctor* what? Who’s that? I don’t know any Doctor. Probably not even a real thing. You’re making things up. You’re crazy.
Doctor: wtf r u doing
Companion: shush. This? *points at doctor* this is my friend… Dave.
Dalek: that is the doctor
Cpmpanion: I bet your friends told you that. They’re lying. They’re jealous of what we have. We have a deep connection.
Dalek: What are you talking about weve only just met-
Companion: you’re lying we both know it. You’re just confused.
Dalek: wth-
Comapnion: babe it’s okay just let us go and prove you’re not crazy. I know you’re not crazy. Just let us go.
Dalek: Yk what idgaf just gtf out of here
Doctor: 👁 👄 👁
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i don't think i've ever laughed more in my life than when i read this
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expectiations · 1 month
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amusingly, even TARDIS Wiki writers don't understand why the Doctor married River Song
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melody-amelia-pond · 7 months
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11: Hey do you happen to know my blood type?
River: Yeah. B positive
11 (pulling out his blood transfusion): Well, guessed wrong. Hey, Craiiig?
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lady-phasma · 1 year
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Is this really important flirting?
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Stop it.
Make me.
Yeah? Well maybe I will.
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goeldicotton · 7 months
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Little sketch for the fic I wrote at like 3 in the morning
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magiccath · 1 month
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Between A Goose And A Hard Place
Pairing: 11th Doctor x River Song
Summary: In which the Doctor is faced with the soulmate goose of enforcement
A/N: I know this isn't what I usually write, but I wanted to make a silly little gift for @1-genie-in-a-bottle . Let me know if you like this kind of unhinged crack fic and/or want to see more Doctor x River stuff!
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The Doctor generally wasn’t a fan of kissing. It’s not that he didn’t like it. No, that wasn’t the issue. At least, he didn’t think it was. More so, the issue lay in what happened when he kissed someone. Frankly, if he ever tried to explain it to someone else he was absolutely certain they would laugh. He had trouble believing it himself. 
First, it was Jack. The Doctor didn’t even really know how to react at first. Jack had simply grabbed his face and planted one on him. It was quick, most certainly not a lingering kiss. Before he could decide what to do with the kiss, Jack had pulled away with a yelp. When the Doctor tentatively opened his eyes, wondering what on Earth could have caused Jack to make a sound like that, he was speechless. A sleek, white goose was biting Jack’s arse. Literally. Jack had simply removed the goose from his bottom half, setting it down on the floor as if it were nothing more than a dirty sock. That was that, the two men didn’t discuss it any further. 
Shortly after, it was Rose. This time the Doctor had more control over this kiss. He’d done it to save her, it wasn’t much more than that. She had taken the entirety of the time vortex into her mind, and that would most certainly kill a human. He kissed her as a means of transferring it to his mind. He was a little too preoccupied with saving his companion to really stop and enjoy or suffer through the kiss. What he didn’t expect was the exact same goose, having magically appeared again, started honking at him with a newfound ferocity. 
“Will you please shut up!” He snapped, still holding onto Rose. By now she had practically collapsed into his arms, the energy drained from her body. He could have sworn that the goose glared at him. 
“Go on, shoo,” he encouraged, glaring right back. The goose sauntered away, the soft padding of its flippers taunting him. Briefly, he wondered where the goose came from. It was a little strange that the bird had suddenly appeared in the middle of a spaceship, but stranger things had happened to the Doctor. 
He’d made a mental note to look up what it meant when geese showed up and berated you for kissing people, but he got preoccupied. He had a new body to adapt to, with all new organs and facial features. How could he be expected to remember such trivial things as strange geese? 
Rose was the first to kiss his new face. Well, technically it was Lady Cassandra inhabiting Rose’s body. He should have known, Rose wasn’t bold enough to grasp him by his hair and forcibly kiss him. This one was longer and more passionate than the others. Still, the Doctor didn’t know how to react. He ended up just standing there like putty in her hands as he pressed her - Rose’s - lips against his, her hands gripping his hair roughly. Honestly, he sort of blacked out for the whole thing. By the time she had pulled away from him, the goose was there. It practically glared at Rose, its beak firmly attached to her shoe. He wasn’t sure if geese could growl, but this one certainly was. 
By the time they had returned to the TARDIS, he practically rushed to the library, frantically searching for some kind of explanation. He didn’t know why this was happening to him! Three times in a row was more than a coincidence, the events had to be linked. 
He pondered over his books for a few hours, looking for everything he had on geese. Exasperated, he used the Sonic Screwdriver to scour the internet. He came across an American article titled “The Soulmate Goose: Urban Legend or Rising Phenomenon?” He frowned, clicking on it, if only out of curiosity. 
A Soulmate Goose, otherwise known as the “Soulmate Goose of Enforcement'' is exactly what it sounds like. A goose who acts as a spiritual guide in your search for a soulmate, just in a chaotic manner. Regardless if you believe in soulmates or not, the Soulmate Goose of Enforcement serves as an entertaining tale at the very least, and a guiding beacon in the dating world at best. 
The Doctor wasn’t entirely sure if it was a joke. Americans were good at that, making up things so entirely silly that they almost seemed real. He didn’t want to believe it, the idea was so blatantly odd. However, the current evidence at hand seemed to support the idea. What other possible explanation could there be for a goose following him around and getting incessantly violent whenever he kissed someone?
For the next few weeks, he simply forgot about the goose. He had more pertinent things to do. That was, until none other than Madame De Pompadour kissed him. She grasped him and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. He melted into her touch, his hands ghosting around her waist as she grasped tightly onto his suit. He wasn’t sure if he kissed her back, but he was fairly certain he had. Before he could really start to enjoy the kiss, a goose crawled out from under Madame De Pompadour’s skirts. She quickly backed away from him, looking down at the bird with wide, confused eyes. The goose simply squawked at her before turning its attention towards the Doctor, looking up at him with its beady little black eyes in clear disapproval. The Doctor stared back, his mind trying to catch up. Bashfully, he nodded his understanding.
After that, he did a good job of steering away from kissing. He became almost defensive about it, constantly worried that someone might grab him for a kiss. The last thing he wanted was for the goose to show up again. 
He figured he was safe around Jackie, she was Rose’s mum after all. How wrong he was. She quickly grabbed him, spinning him around towards her so she could press her lips against his. He instantly recoiled, but she didn’t seem to notice. She rotated between hugging him and kissing him. When she was done he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearly disgusted. Sure enough, the goose poked its head into the room, glaring at the Doctor. 
“I didn’t like it much either,” he whispered angrily at the bird. Honestly, what was it with all of these women kissing him?
Then he kissed Martha - which he only did to save her life. He told her as such, looked her in the eyes, and begged her to understand that it was for her own good. For the good of everyone in the hospital. It’s not like it meant anything. He grasped her face in his hands and kissed her quickly. Honestly, he didn’t even really think about it, not really. Afterward, he ran away quickly, having things he needed to do. The Doctor didn’t get very far before he ran into a goose. It was just sitting in the hallway, looking at him disappointingly. In all of his rush to come up with a solution for their predicament, he had completely forgotten about the goose. 
“I did it to save everyone in this hospital!” he argued. It felt ridiculous to argue with a bird. 
Either the goose didn’t understand him, or it didn’t care. It simply got up off the floor and walked over to the Doctor menacingly. Great, the Doctor thought, now I’ve got to run away from the Judoon AND a bird. Luckily for him, he was good at the running thing. 
When he was John Smith he didn’t figure that he’d be kissing anyone. He left it out of the list of instructions he had made for Martha. In the moment, avoiding pears seemed more important than avoiding the damn goose. 
Unfortunately for him, his human counterpart had to go and fancy someone. He leaned in to kiss her, moving slowly in case she wanted to back away. When she didn’t, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers. 
The door barged open and he pulled away to yell at Martha, he had told her to knock before inviting herself in. However, he was faced with the goose. He frowned at the bird, confused about how it got into the room, let alone open the door. Geese don’t have hands, let alone opposable thumbs, so how did it get in?
He didn’t have much time to ponder because the goose instantly threw itself at Joan, biting at her legs through her skirt. He frowned angrily at the strange creature, forcibly pulling it off of his love interest. The goose turned its efforts to biting him, sinking its surprisingly sharp beak into the tender flesh of his hand. He dropped the bird in shock, grasping the spot where it had bit him. 
“What-?” he gasped, still holding his wound. Martha rushed into the room, looking between him, Joan, and the bird in clear confusion. The Doctor didn’t even try to explain, he wasn’t even sure how to. 
Then, it was Astrid. She really was a sweet girl, he felt awful that he didn’t have time to warn her. This was getting out of hand - what was it with women grabbing him and kissing him against his will? He wasn’t a fan of it, and the goose most certainly wasn’t either. The kiss was brief, not leaving him much time to react. By the time she pulled away, the lapels of his suit still grasped in her hands, the goose had appeared. It was squawking again, flapping its wings angrily. 
“Where did that come from?” Astrid frowned, still not letting go of the Doctor. He sighed heavily and gently eased her away from him. With a sad frown, she backed down, exiting his personal space. The goose continued to yell at her, even as she left the Doctor with a shy wave goodbye. 
“You have got to stop doing that!” he scolded the bird. He was met with a sharp cry in response. He didn’t need to speak goose to understand that the creature was mad at him. 
“It’s not like I’m asking these women to kiss me!” he protested, begging the goose for a little bit of leeway. The bird tilted its head at him, clearly listening to him. Without another word - or squawk - it padded off down the hallway, leaving the Doctor alone. 
When Donna kissed him he absolutely was not expecting OR wanting it. He asked her for a shock, assuming that she would gladly take the opportunity to slap him or something. He’d done plenty of things to piss her off, surely she was itching to sock him. Instead, she grabbed him by the face and kissed him passionately. He wasn’t sure that she liked it much more than he did. Frankly, she should have just gone the slapping route, it would have been better for both of them. When she finally released him he stumbled backward into the kitchen island, letting out a sharp breath as the poison exited his body in smoky tendrils. 
He felt a sharp bite on one of his fingers and looked down at the counter to find the goose, his pointer finger lodged between its beak. The Doctor glared at the bird and wiggled his finger free from its grasp. 
“Bad bird!” he tried scolding, holding his hand against his chest defensively. “I’m well aware that she’s not my soulmate! There’s no need to get violent.” 
He managed to escape the kissing for a while after that. He got a little too comfortable, he almost forgot all about the kissing and the goose. His life was wonderful. 
And then Christina kissed him. She didn’t even give him any warning. Like the various women before her, she had simply grabbed him and dragged his lips toward hers. The bus erupted in applause as she kissed him, vocalizing their approval. She pulled away, smirking at him. She quickly recoiled though when she felt a sharp sting in her calf. She looked down at her leg, only to find a vicious goose firmly attached to her calf. The Doctor followed her gaze and sighed, seemingly dejected. 
“I’m not interested in this one either,” he groaned at the goose. Begrudgingly, it released Christina from its grasp. She quickly stumbled back, rubbing her leg in the spot where it had been biting her. 
That was the last time he was kissed with that face. He hoped with his new regeneration that he might escape the kissing for a while. Maybe it was the tight suits. Surely that was the problem. Yes, it had to be the suits. And the hair. He made sure to get rid of both. 
Even with this new face, this new attitude, even with the new suit, he couldn’t avoid the kissing. He figured he was safe with Amy, she was getting married! She couldn’t be interested in him. Oh, how wrong he had been. 
She leaned close to him, closer than he was generally comfortable with. She continued to lean further into him, desperately trying to close the gap between them. Once he realized what was happening, he quickly shot up out of his seat, stumbling away from her. 
“You’re getting married!” he argued as she continued to try and kiss him. “I’m 906! This can never work!” 
She pouted, crowding him up against the TARDIS. “I wasn’t suggesting anything quite so… long-term,” she said seductively, grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him urgently. Her hands wandered across his chest, sliding his suspenders off his shoulders. He stiffened, his hands planted firmly on her shoulders as he pushed her off of him. He wiggled out of her grasp, trying to move away from her again. She tried to move for him again and he darted away from her. Where was the goose when you needed it?!
As if sending his thoughts, a goose appeared in the middle of Amy’s room. She stared at it in blatant confusion before backing hesitantly away. The goose didn’t seem deterred in the slightest and simply advanced in her direction, growling softly. 
“Do they do that? Are they meant to do that?” 
“No, not generally,” the Doctor sighed in exasperation, picking the goose up and practically throwing it away from her. It moved for Amy again and he placed his leg in front of it, blocking its path. 
“Amy, no kissing,” he scolded, pointing at her. He then turned his attention to the goose, “No biting. No attacking. No disturbing of any kind.”
The goose huffed, at least, that’s what the Doctor assumed it was trying to do. He glared down at it, almost threatening it to try again. Finally, the goose relented. 
Amy didn’t try to kiss him again, which he was thankful for. In fact, no one tried to kiss him again. That was, until River. 
He liked River, he really did. She was smart, snarky, and not afraid to flirt with him. As he returned her to her cell they talked and laughed happily. 
He said something or made some kind of comment. He wasn’t even trying to be funny or clever, it just came out that way. 
“Shut up,” River smirked, grabbing his neck softly and pulling him into her. He could have pulled away if he really wanted to. River wasn’t like the other women, she wasn’t forcibly aggressive about it. Dominant and self-assured, yes. But not aggressive, never aggressive. He let her do it, mostly because he wanted her to. 
She pressed her lips against his and he instantly melted into the kiss. This time was different, this time he wanted it, he liked it. Awkwardly, his hand hovered over her shoulder, not quite touching her. She kept one hand on the back of his neck, the other pulling him in by his waist. Oh, he liked that. His hand pressed down on her shoulder. Not like he had with Amy, he wasn’t pushing her away. Rather, he was holding her, urging her to go on. 
Then, panic started to seep in. The goose was going to show up at any point. It was going to start biting River and that was absolutely the last thing that he wanted to happen. At the same time, he really didn’t want this kiss to end. His arms flailed about helplessly and awkwardly. If River noticed she didn’t do anything to indicate as such. He continued his uncomfortable flapping, his mind torn between pulling away and pushing closer. 
The kiss ended and he looked down at her with wide, panicked eyes. She wasn’t crying out in pain and there wasn’t an ear-splitting honking filling the air. She looked at him almost sadly, as if realizing his mind wasn’t entirely on her. 
He didn’t know it, but she was realizing that this was the last time she was ever going to kiss him. A first for him, a last for her. That was the way it worked. 
The Doctor looked around her cell anxiously, searching for the goose. Where was it? Was it going to bite him now? His eyes finally landed on the familiar goose, sitting patiently in the corner.
“Doctor?” River whispered, her eyes searching his face. 
He didn’t respond, his wide eyes glued on the goose. Only, it wasn’t moving. It wasn’t attacking. He looked back at River, his eyes darting between hers. Could it be? 
“Can you do that again?” he whispered. She smirked, finding his request nothing if not adorable. She was more than happy to oblige, leaning forward to press her lips against his again. 
It was softer this time, more gentle. The Doctor actively kissed her back this time, his hands coming to rest on the dip of her waist. She smiled at that, pressing her chest against his. 
He pulled away from the kiss, his hands still holding her waist. He smiled down at her, feeling a warmth in his hearts that he hadn’t for centuries. She smiled back up at him, her hand resting gently between his rapidly beating hearts. 
Hesitantly he looked back over to the corner where the goose had been only moments before, finding the room empty. He let out a gentle breath, relieved that the aviary torture was finally over. Maybe now he could relax. Maybe, just maybe, there would be more of this enjoyable kissing in the future. For once, the Doctor could confidently say that he liked kissing. Yes, yes he most certainly did. 
He just hoped that the damned goose didn’t show up again. 
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newbie-whovian · 2 years
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I did a thing
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jackmcspringheel · 2 years
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A River Song/Eleventh Doctor Moodboard for @melodyandpond
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twinge-of-cosmicangst · 5 months
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If I had a nickel for every time the Doctor had a sassy ginger companion he referred to as his best friend, and then said ginger companion had a daughter whose name begins with R (and was not the name they were born with) and this daughter even though human, has certain time lord characteristics due to complex plot reasons, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.
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arting-block · 10 months
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you can do Eleventh Doctor x reader
The reader deals with the consequences of being the doctor's companion and unrequited love.
𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 | Eleventh Doctor x GN! Reader
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❝𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬.❞
Summary: You see the Doctor's love go to someone other than you.
Warnings: Angst, unrequited love
Words: 1.1K
A/N: Cooked this up with 3 braincells and lots of River x Eleven edits.
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It wasn't anything special that made you like him.
Granted, everything the Doctor does is extraordinary in some way. Something hardwired in his brain that allows him to break boundaries. What is and is not possible is merely a dare for him to engage in. For him to show you just how limited your perception of this universe is. True this part of him, all alien in every way is something you valued in him, it’s not what brought the weakness in your knees. 
No, it’s something far more ordinary. Very unlike him. 
A gradual buildup that took years of small moments with the Doctor. Taking your hand in a gentle tug, pointing to various attractions to visit. Complimenting an outfit you put together for the time period you ended up in. Praise for studying hard and wanting to impress the locals. 
Above all, it was the times where nothing was said what solidified your love for the man. The TARDIS idly floating in the vacuum of space. Your legs dangling over the edge of the open door, staring out to whatever nebula you found yourself in. The Doctor would often tuck himself next to you, shoulder to shoulder. You let the air around you carry your emotions; your mind conjuring your confession. 
He would look at you, a small smile to let you know he’s there for you. And maybe, if the adventure was too taxing, the Doctor would let you lean into his side. Arms wrapping around each other, cuddling while gazing at stars.
Your face against the soft cotton of his shirts, hearing the two thuds of his own hearts. 
Leaning against the textured wall, you observe the Doctor. Once a week, every week, and without fail the Doctor would dedicate time to tinker with the console of the TARDIS. Sounds of bolts hitting the clear floor and the cranking of tools would accompany the Doctor’s rare curses. 
A familiar routine. Private.
The Doctor keeps this ritual to himself. In the little spare time he has he closes off into a bubble. Various machine parts and thick cables surround the area creating a partition. 
You wouldn’t dare to impede on the Doctor. There’s been too many close calls, more than enough life-ending encounters lately.
He needs this, you think to yourself, if he wanted your help he would ask.
You’ve chosen a small nook to occupy, elevated so you could get a bird’s eye view of the Doctor. His back faces you, hunched over the same area of the console for the last thirty minutes. Another curse tumbles out of his lips. Quiet, but your ears never fail to hear his voice. You knew the Doctor could easily rip the entire place apart and rebuild it from scratch. Something else is haunting him, and the poor console is taking the brunt of it. The side where the Doctor is working on had its lights shut off.
Go ask. Let him know you’re here.
Your feet stay planted to the ground. Feelings aren’t something the Doctor discusses. In the few times he does expose a piece of his past, he does so with reluctance. For someone who loves taking you to it, the Doctor hates looking back. It’s one of the unspoken rules you’ve discovered rather quickly. 
The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair. His face is obscured but you can imagine his frustration as clear as day. Brows pinched, mouth in a tight line, and his jaw clenched. 
“You’ve certainly made quite the mess here,” a voice—familiar and dreadful—cuts through silence like a knife, “Are you sure that button is in its rightful spot?”
River Song passes the partition with graceful, measured steps. Blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and a pristine outfit of a t-shirt and pants. Despite just hours ago the three of you trekked the slopes of a mountain River always seemed to look fresh out of a photoshoot. You’re pretty sure mud still caked the cuffs of your jeans.
You’ve met the archeologist a few times. More often than not it’s because she orchestrated some sort of meeting to get the Doctor where she needed to be. They regarded each other with such familiarity that jealousy was all you could see. 
Plucking a metal part from the Doctor’s hand, River ducked beneath the console. A few moments later the console’s lights finally turned on. 
“I was just about to do that, but I was taking a break,” the Doctor explains. 
River hummed, not too convinced, “What’s got the almighty Doctor stuck in his own head? Certainly had to be worrisome if he couldn’t connect the converter to the energy shaft. Even a baby could rig that up.”
A crack of a smile formed on the Doctor’s face, “Always observant, aren’t you Song?”
You shouldn’t eavesdrop like this; clearly a private conversation. 
A nagging voice at the back of your head tells you to stay put. To watch. See if the Doctor indulges River in the luxuries you want. Some part of you wants to know what exactly River is to the Doctor.
River is just a friend. The Doctor said so. He wouldn’t keep something like that from you.
The two of them step towards one another in sync. River with her all-knowing gaze and cunning smile; the Doctor with the weight of his problems sagging his shoulders. 
You watched helplessly as River placed a hand on the Doctor’s face. With a stomach full of lead, you watch the Doctor lean into her touch. His own hand ghosting over River’s hip as if it belongs there. 
Thousands of words spoken with just their eyes. Eons of friendship—love, perhaps between the two. 
You’ve never explicitly asked what their relationship to one another was. In a way, you dreaded what the answer would be. 
“Are you leaving soon?” the Doctor whispered. Longing.
You can’t turn away, no matter how much your heart ached.
“Do you want me to stay?” River shifted closer, her other hand resting above his chest, “If so, I might need a little convincing.”
An invitation.
The Doctor looked at River as if she hung the stars themselves. Their hands around one another in a way that reminded you of a married couple. Time moves slowly in the moment leading up to their foreheads touching. A tooth-achingly sweet, intimate gesture. A sight that makes your insides churn painfully.  
“Please, River. Just for the night,” the Doctor begs, “I need you.”
River lets out a small chuckle. Untangling herself with the Doctor, she moves to rearrange the parts surrounding the two of them, “Can’t leave the TARDIS like this. What would happen if Y/N tripped over your mess?”
The sound of your name made you strain for a response.
“They won’t. I’m sure they could figure out where to put these if they put their mind to it.”
Praise coming from the Doctor would normally make your heart flutter. In its place a cold, awful feeling that anchors itself in your gut. Your feet finally move from the corner of the room to the winding hallway. The faint chatter of the two fading away until the only sound you hear is the beating of your heart. 
They never kissed, yet the scene that unfolded made you wish they did. A kiss wouldn’t hurt as much as the Doctor begging River to stay. His voice above a whisper so that only she would hear. A moment so tender that it forcefully shifted your thinking. Those heartfelt moments you had with the Doctor were nothing more than platonic. You were never a contender for his love. It’s almost comical how you could even think that you were worthy of him. A human with such a fragile body and short lifespan. 
Even if by some miracle he did reciprocate those feelings, it wouldn’t matter.
Her. There would always be her.
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analieninabox · 2 years
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Nobody:
Absolutely nobody:
Not a single soul:
Captain Jack: Captain jack harkne-
The Doctor: *from miles away in space* NO.
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In these few days before New Years, I'm making it my mission to watch every River Song episode, in her order. There's 14 episodes, yeah? And there's 5 days (including today 12/27). That's only 4 episodes per day!* Who's with me?
*that is with the exception of today and the last day (only 1 episode)
The order will be:
a good man goes to war
the impossible astronaut
day of the moon
let's kill hitler
the wedding of river song
the pandorica opens
the big bang
time of the angels
flesh and stone
the angels take manhattan
the husbands of river song
silence in the library
forest of the dead
the name of the doctor
though, the order is a bit flexible
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expectiations · 2 months
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Do you have any Doctor x River fanfic recommendations?
cracks knuckles hang on this will definitely take a while. i crow every single moment i get over how i have such a soft spot for young!River fics so here and have your fill :D
even in your darkest hour, i'll never desert you by melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme (sexymonk)
Study Date on Luna by Deriveress
‘Yes!’ He hadn’t even finished speaking when River jumped to her feet, pulled out a bag from beneath her bed and started haphazardly throwing things inside. ‘Oh, this will be great! That exam will be a piece of cake! And I always wanted to start a revolution.’ She stopped packing, smirking at him. River smiled, a brilliant thing that caused a strange, warm feeling in his chest.
I have no fear, I have only love by mnemosyne_musings
young days, made for mistakes by iknowyouthinkitsmebutitsnot
Seven Kisses by LittlePageAndBird
He’s no-one’s boyfriend. No. Absolutely not. But there's a (tiny, miniscule, microscopic) chance he might just be River Song’s husband. The same very young River Song who he picked up from a club last night (but only after she’d finished dancing with strange men who were not him), who serenaded the Tardis with a Queen song dressed in his old scarf, and who is now not only nursing the hangover from hell but demanding that he make her breakfast. Who's he trying to kid? Amy’s right. He’s so married.
And everything under the stars is in your arms by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)
one of the earliest fics i've ever read and i love going back to from time to time. also one of my favoritest Doctor/River authors ever!!
Doctor River Song by tisziny
a short one but it's Pond fluff!! we love Pond fluff
i can't even recognize you now by orphan_account
The Curse of Curves by HellNHighHeels
She’s a menace. No, she’s a minx. She’s a menacing minxy distraction and he can’t be expected to handle her when she’s this young.
but if I fall for you, I'll never recover by Del (goddessdel)
"I've gone into a tiny box with a strange man - they know exactly what I'm doing."
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