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Random A** Headcanons
Random a** headcanons
Jame T. Kirk x Ostaran!reader
Iâve said it before, Iâll say it again
so damn clingy and gives the best hugs
like the ones that linger to the point where eventually youâre just cuddling in an upright position
will pet your ears hair while you guys are just hanging out in your quarters
will never understand how you can eat so many vegetables
âThatâs like eating the garnish, why would you do that???â
Jokingly leaves you things for your nest as though he were worshipping at an altar
âOh mighty bunny darling, please accept this measly mortal offering of a fluffy blanket and a snack!â
you just grumble halfheartedly and pull him and the offerings into your nest
@finallyforgotten I hope this small offering will temporarily satiate your hunger for Ostaran!reader while I work on getting the inspiration for something more substantial! đ°
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More Posts from Darkness-and-books
Teacher's Pet part 6

Synopsis: The game is set, and the players are playing. The Doctor and the Reader...what will go on?
A/n: I'm laughing evily. Also, I'm in good spirits, had a phenomenal day. This one is a bit longer. Turns out if you have little responsibility, besides yourself, you can bang out a banger. Also, listen to Maria by Justin Bieber.
You saw the Gmail alert go off on your phone as you changed into a suitable cute outfit and did your first layer of work make up. You were out of luck, there was a new girl in and she was getting the VIP treatment with the largest suite offered. You were moisturizing yourself before you dared to look. You really couldnât be arsed if it was a personal email on your private account. And you didnât need the anxiety if it was on your school account. You were angry that you didnât have enough room to stretch out or put emotional distance between a man and you, if the situation provided required it.
You got yourself perfect, as there were already some cars in the car park. Probably a bit of stress relief before these men went home to their wives and kids. Theyâd blame traffic. Probably.
You didnât know or care. Their lives seemed like parallel universes. Hypothetical. Unproven. Just a theory.
You decided to give yourself another dusting of antiperspirant before checking your phone.
It was fucking himâŠ
You opened it,
âDear (y/n),
Itâs a shame that youâre not well. Iâll see you at the same time as last week. Secure the notes from someone.
Cordially yours,
Professor Smith.â
And thatâs the name of that tune, you bitterly scoffed. You tossed your phone onto the table you had it rest on with the rest of your needs for work.
Seemed up his alley to wreck your focus! With his stupid face and stupid lust for life!
Plus, being on your phone was not focused on your bag.
Out of sight, out of mind..
You said âHelloâ to the security guy again on your way to the bar. A few men were there and you had hours to go before your first appointment. One of the other girls working was talking to two at once. One was in deep discussion with the bartender and the phone girl.
One man was nursing a beer and was watching something on his phone. A target.
Good.
You walked over and put in the work. He was easily satisfied and went back to the bar and nursed another beer before getting up and leaving.
You actually had a good day and napped easily before you went on your second shift. You had plenty of money and dropped a fat, crisp twenty note in front of the homeless person outside the shops.
You bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked one on your way back to the cloister of your âofficeâ. You let out a shaky cough. It had been over a week since your last one, so obviously, the smoke hit your lungs harshly.
Damn that man!
You napped some more before returning to work. Fresh outfit, even more make up. A spritz of perfume to hide the scent of smoke in the hairâŠ
A whole routine.
Friday night was lucrative to the point of pain. You had to tell your manager and booking girl that you were going on a walk and needed a break.
You took your phone, bundled up, and your headphones.
It was after midnight, dangerous, but whatever. Keep to the area.
You had a wonderful time, the few cigarettes you consumed and the Fanta you drank restored you. The music was a good thing.
Suddenly the air felt heavy. And you felt observed. Something on the back of your neck. The hairs. It felt perverse. You paused your music and took out your headphones long enough to hear a weird, distinctive âvwrorrp-vworrpâ followed by what sounded like a car wheezing.
Whatever the hell it was-it freaked you out enough to go back in the safety of the car park.
You finished up and went back. Had a quick shower and started preparing for the next chapter of your work shift.
You hated the stupid schedule system, but shifts like this made it all worth it.
Saturday was just a bit slower and Sunday, outside some bookings that were already scheduled was glacial and dry. Bad fishing.
Thank heavens for Thursday and Friday! You thought. You made bank, and had some fun. Always a good thing. And the manager got you all some fancy pizza in celebration of the new girl surviving her first rotation. And her deciding that all this was worth some more time to sell.
The manager really must have taken a shine to her. That never happened.
All in all? Good work. You could rest easy for the rest of the week. And pay off bills. And afford to shop at a fancy health food store instead of probably junk, loaded with shit, thatâll kill you quicker.
Yippee!
You had barely thought of your little distraction all weekend, until Monday.
Your alarm went off. And you remembered you hadnât responded to him.
âThanks! Sorry for the late reply! I was busy! Iâll be there!â It was quick, apologetic and mostly-honest.
Him.
You cursed yourself out. The minute he came into focus, you were a bigger mess than you were ever before!
You messaged someone who you knew had probably had the notes from Thursday. No such luck. And your little meeting was looming large.
Youâd have to tell him the truth, you fucked up. No notes.
Deciding to revel in the mundane, before leaving, you made yourself a nice cup of mint tea with honey. You sat in a corner wrapped in your blanket and luxuriate in the warmth of the tea and the rest of the blanket pile. You wasted a few minutes on social media. Drowning your brain cells seemed like a good idea. A distraction for you from the returned knot in your stomach and hole in your heart that your stupid crush on Professor Smith had caused. A very welcome one.
After all, you did have couple thousand pound weekend! A freak occurrence! Rare! So why not indulge in some mindless self care?
After a while, you made the smart choice and readied yourself for school and the war zone that being locked in the office with him would be.
The class you had in the morning slipped by with your focus becoming increasingly erratic. You didnât want to go, but you trudged into the bathroom to psych yourself up. Not out..
Finally stable, you trudged your way to your new Hell. A concept that, up until this semester, was comical to you.
You felt like a clown.
Booboo the Fool.
You had to laugh at yourself. Buy yourself a clown nose and ship yourself off to the circus!
Pathetic!
You knocked raptly. Maybe youâd just go into a manic state or overdrive and the time would fly away and youâd go back to life. And he would potentially be scared of you enough to back off and not encourage any more meetings besides what your schedule permittedâŠ
He welcomed you in, offered to take your jacket and pulled out the chair for you.
âI had my assistant get me some hot chocolate for us.â He gestured over to some disposable cups lodged into one of those cardboard cup holder things.
The fuck was he doing? Had you passed out and entered dream world? Was he tormenting you? Did he know that you were just head over heels for him?
âThanksâŠâ You said and took it. You off-handedly wished you had those strips that you could test if a drink had been fucked with. Not that youâd accuse him of it. Or rather that you leapt to the conclusion that he was trying to. Life had taught you that free drinks from men sometimes came with consequences.
You reassured yourself that he was still besotted with his dead wife. The total badass.
You envied her. She got what you clearly desired.
You swallowed a sip.
He seemed casual. Had a simple jumper on over his body and a pair of dark jeans. You noticed he wore Doc Martens. Very ageing punk rocker. The jumper hung on his chest quite well. He was skinny, but you could see his chest was sturdy.
âSo, did you get your notes?â He smiled, all of his teeth showing. He seemed to know something. There was a bizarre glint in his eye. It was as freaky as it was mesmerizing.
âNo, didnât get a chance. Iâm going to the school tutoring soon. Iâll talk to them about it. My fault. The weekend got away from me. I was swamped at work. And then I forgot. Iâm sorry.â You blabbered on, deeply apologetic.
You prayed in your mind that if Gd was listening, for him to open a hole up in the planet, swallow you whole, and that you were sorry for that one time you accidentally ate a cheeseburger drunk.
Among other sinsâŠ
âThen I have to educate you from scratch. You remember on Tuesday we were talking about the nature of the universe and what it owes us? If it owes us?â
âYes.â You added a keen head-shake. Remembering how you fled the room and had a mental breakdown.
âWhat if you put in the work? For years. Centuries even. Battled with the darkness in yourself and others. Saved all you could save. Then what? Would the universe grant you a favor? What would you do to garner that favor?â
You were losing the plot. Clearly.
âWhat if you were timid and didnât mean to tread on things? Just survived. Suffered a bit, nothing to write home about, but still enough to Mar your soul? Did what you had to. Would the universe grant you mercy in form of a favor?â
Seemed like this was bordering on less of philosophy and more of theology. Something a small child would pester their rabbi or priest or imam or whatever about. But that was first glance.
Secondary seemed like it was flying too close to the sun.
Self-descriptive much?
God complex?
You slung an arm on your chair and settled back. A game? Is that was he was getting at?
âIf the universe owed someone something, that would be antithetical. If youâre bargaining with a God, which is what it seems that you are proposingâŠGods usually donât answer you unless you give them a good offer first.â Your tongue clicked forward, you could feel your eyes making a push forward, widening.
You could play along.
âAre you making an offering to a deity? Dear professorâŠâ You crossed your arms and leaned forward.
You saw something pass over his face. A trillion different micro-calculations. Several amused and several dark looks.
He swallowed.
What was his deal? You mused before trying a new string of words.
âOr are you the God here?â You blasphemedâŠpursing your lips. Biting the skin under them.
More emotions shot through his painfully attractive face. The lines on his face seemed to glimmer deeper.
He swallowed harder. A singular eyebrow arched up.
Seriously, those things were weapons.
âWhat if I am?â He breathed out.
âDoes that make your students your devotees?â You pushed a bit furtherâŠ
He slinked over to the chair and leaned forward. Fully turning his eyes unto your soul. âOh, maybe youâd enjoy that.â He smoothed out his voice, directly into your mind. It seemed to echo into the corners of your skull. Vibrating.
You would enjoy it. Too much.
Your body and mind felt flushed and overheated. The office seemed to get as hot as a midsummer day on the beach.
âSo, does the universe get what itâs owed, (y/n)?â
Your breathing quickened and your throat got dry. You reached (well more like flailedâŠ) for your beverage. A big gulp, not breaking eye contact.
âAre you a devotee? To come worship at the altar?â He questioned further. Placing both of those incredible hands at the sides of the chair. Leaning further forward. His cool breath hitting your face. It smelled fresh. Not like good oral hygienic skills, but something foreign and strong. Striking, and a little addictive. You could spend the rest of your life trying to find a word to describe it further, or something to compare the scent to. Itâs wasâŠincredible. And maybe edible.
Barely two inches stayed between your noses. If you were a computer, you would have blue screened.
Your were human, and could afford no such luxury, sadly.
The pit of your stomach closed up.
An increasingly rare, but familiar throb coursed through you as warmth accelerated its way through your body. Rocking your core. Your heart was rocketing for the moon. You started to sweat. Literally.
You clenched yourself. Literally squeezed your legs together. To stop yourself from coming undone. From going deeper under this spell he cast on you.
But too late!
Far too late!
You already were becoming quite undone. Wet in more ways than just the sweat now forming on your brow and your back.
You knew what he was getting at. But didnât want to conceded the victory to himâŠ
Why did he make you buckle?
And more importantly, why did he seem to want you to buckle?
The trap was set, it was elaborate and elegant. He even provided drink and ambiance! How could you be so blind?
Especially you!
A shoe on the other footâŠ
You felt in a verbal checkmate.
âMaybe.â You choked out finally after a short eternity. Your heart raced faster still, threatening to break through itâs cage.
âMaybe isnât good enough.â Another breath washed over your face. The gap between your noses closed to barely an inch.
You buckledâŠ
Teacher's Pet part 12

Synopsis: Reader meets Missy. It's a mixed bag.
A/n: sorry for another delay. Hope you enjoy. More doctor fuckery and allusions to the doctors current devolution. Yay I hope you enjoy yayyy.
What were these truths the Doctor was talking about? At least he was being honest! A damn shame to your overloaded brain, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Maybe you would bring yourself to honestly about your profession after. Maybe. Youâd have to test the waters and go off what tonightâs surprise was.
Your heart slammed itself into it's cage.
The next few hours were hell on Earth. What was this secret he was going to reveal?
You always dealt with waiting so poorlyâŠ
You got through your final tutoring via the university without nary a hiccup, but your brain combed through all the possibilities you could scrounge from sci-fi shows. What was that one nearly-sixty years old program that the BBC had?
Too late nowâŠ
You did sneak home to change into something that didnât scream âlazyâ.
Soon it was nearly nine. As you walked to his office, you felt like you were at a wall, breathing your last free breaths before the firing squad came upon you. You worked on your breathing exercises as you went to knock the door.
He was there, illuminated softy. Grey hair fluffed, in a burgundy shirt and hoodie. He looked utterly (and unfairly!) Breath-taking. You felt both underdressed and overdressed.
âGood evening!â He smiled, it was one of those easy, unnerving, comfortable smiles that framed his eyes so well.
âHey.â Was the best you could muster. Your vocabulary stolen from your tongue as easily as the breath from your lungs over himâŠ
How could someone who was quite literally older than the rededication of the Second Temple look so good?
Alien magic, must be.
âYou remember that Missy character?â
âYeah, her? Them?â You struggled.
âHer.â
âAh.â
âSheâs been on her best behavior. Stunning, really.â
âAnd?â
âI think you two need to meet. Iâve cleared the idea with her otherâŠGuardian.â
âOh?â
âNardoleâŠheâs an egg. I sent him to Norwich for a packet of crisps.â
âYeah, that makes sense.â It didnât.
You rubbed your lip together in a partial move to rip the skin off, but also to provide some sort of outlet for the nervousness that was still coming up from the pit of your stomach.
What was Missy?
He offered the crook of his arm, âShall we go?â
You took it.
The walk was nice, silent. The weather was warming up nicely. Mild night.
Soon you went to a place obscured in some hardly-looked after corner in the universityâs basement. He pressed some hidden point and the wall snapped in two, revealing some contraption. He unhooked himself from you and started entering codes, some little monitor popped up and scanned his eye.
It asked for a verbal confirmation.
He spoke in some language that made your blood run cold and you feel small. Something about it was haunting. Like singing.
It unveiled another wall with a turn-lock, from which he produced a key and unlocked it.
Finally, it seemed safe to part through.
âWhat did she do?â You asked, voice husky with fear.
âEnough.â He let a little snort escape.
You nodded and went in.
It was a grand room, a couple of old, antique chairs and some meager side tables faced what was a mighty cage! It looked like glass, on the platform. Inside this guided cage was a woman, in simple Victorian clothes.
She played piano very gently.
âMissy.â The Doctor seemingly pleaded.
The woman inside slammed the lid shut and turned around.
She had the most insane, yet oddly lovely smile. Cat-like.
She was thin.
âOhâŠyouâve brought me a plaything?â She grinned.
Her accent sounded Scottish. Like the Doctor.
âDo all aliens sound like Scotsmen?â You blurted out before you could monitor your thoughts.
âIâm sorry!â You amended.
She laughed, it sounded like bells.
âOne would certainly hope so!â She responded.
âIâm Missy! Short for Mistress!â
âOh, Iâm (y/n).â
She shot the Doctor some look. He shot her another look. It seemed they were having an entire conversation without you. You felt alienated. You looked between them.
âIâve heard nothing but good. Typical!â She approached you at the edge of her enclosure. You felt caged. Missy stalked you as if she were a lioness and you were some disabled, freshly birthed gazelle. You started sweating, it dewed down your back.
âOh!â
âMy best enemy.â He elaborated.
You nodded more, at a total loss for words. Your breathing became manual.
âSo what did you do?â
âOh, this girlie is rude! I love it!â She shot the Doctor another look.
âDonât talk behind my back?â You assumed.
Missy nearly fell over! She started laughing, âRude and clever! Heâs certainly taught you well.â
Your eyes could have shot out of their sockets.
âYouâre like Jedi, yeah? Can communicate with your brains?â You explained.
âSure enough? Jedi are the Lego ones?â the Doctor asked.
âOh, Iâm going to enjoy her.â Missy predated you more. Nose pressed against her enclosure.
You got the briefest of synopsis of their entire relationship. You felt yourself blinking from your brain overloading. It felt like someone dumped out your mind and shook the contents up before tossing it all back in, haphazardly.
You swallowed heavily.
âSo Time Lords. Do you all have suchâŠintense names? Mistress, Doctor? So is there a Bachelor?â You felt your arms move as if to elaborate this point.
âDifferent generations have different naming convention. My brother is Irving Braxiatel.â
âOf course. Makes sense. My nameâs (y/n) but now all the kids are McKinsleigh or Harley or whatever.â
âExactly.â
âOh, my dear Doctor, you have a smart one on your hands. Now how do you like the stars, kiddo?â
You shook your head quickly. âNope, no stars for me. Iâm not going up there. Nope. I know what happens! Iâm genre aware. I know what goes down in space. And if youâve had a lot of dead companions previouslyâŠnot me. I am not that suicidal!â You felt like a horizontal bobble head of sorts.
âSee!â She slapped her thigh. âThis oneâs got common sense! Sheâs not going to swan off and get herself killed by a giant bird!â
It seemingly touched a tender point.
âOh, here you go, bringing up Clara! Whatâs with you?â He seemed on the verge of spitting. âWeâre having such a normal time!â
âOh, she was my manic pixie dream bitch too!â Missy countered, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.
You made several notes to bring up later when you were going to bring up some new ground rules for this relationship, if this Missy didnât tear you to shreds and eat your entrails like a tin of tuna.
The cat metaphors kept comingâŠ
Were Time Lords cats?
No! Cats have barbed penises and that Time Lord you were fond of didnâtâŠ
âMay I get a tuba now?â Missy pleaded.
âWeâll see.â
You found yourself fiddling with your necklaces in a very rapid way with one hand. The other twisting the massive gold hoop in your one ear. Nervous habits coming in strong to help you self-soothe in this inopportune momentâŠ
Somewhere the Doctor produced a flask of tea and poured some out, it was herbal. At the moment you couldnât discern much more than that.
He gave it to all, including Missy, whoâs barrier seemed penetrable to him, but not her. As she touched it and it repelled her.
Where did he pull out all these things?
What was the barrier made of? Did it work on genes?
Your mind roared for an explanation.
You reminded yourself to take it in strive. You werenât working with logic and sanity anymore. You were in some contrived sci-fi story now.
It was the only way that youâd survive this!
Missy asked you something pleasantries involving your studies, and you divulged your grand plans.
âOh, not overly ambitious. No martyr complex. Doctor this one may survive you.â Her focus splintered.
You felt out of your depth even more. You were taking it in stride, but that felt like it was lacking. AlthoughâŠan opportunity did arise.
Did you have the guts to take it?
You pondered on. If it did turn nasty, you were outnumbered. Two of these so called âTime Lordsâ. One you. One very mortal and squishy you.
Missy seemed to know far more than she probably should. You craved a bit more knowledge.
Shouldnât you be privy to details about the man youâve been not only fucking, but falling madly under his spell? And dare you utter it- loved?
âSo whatâs the deal with you Time Lords?â You asked Missy.
âAn ancient race. Weâre the pinnacle of evolution. Very few races will or ever will get close. Some have tried, they fail to become as optimized.â
âA bit eugenics-y.â You responded, your brows knitted together.
âFunny collars.â The Doctor chimed in. âThatâs the opposite of optimized.â
âOh, Mister President! How salacious!â She cooed in his general direction.
âPresident?â Your eyes boggled from their sockets.
âTechnically. Iâm also the De Facto President of Earth in an emergency. Neither here nor thereâŠâ
âAnd heâs ever so humble! My dear, Doctor. If this were two bodies ago youâd be preening!â
You looked down and blinked hard, as you started to chew on the inside of your cheek.
âOh, him? Yeah, I was a but more vain. I mean, how could I not? All youth and fire and forged from Roseâs love.â
âAnd who the hell is Rose?â Your jealousy creeping back in.
âOh, Doctor! You dog! She was very blonde! Broke many universes trying to find him again!â Missy gaped, as if she had personally sprung this trap.
âShe helped me. I was raw from the War. She saw my hearts and thatâs all.â The explanation was clearly him trying to not irk any jealousy in you.
âShe got a wee clone! Theyâre in a parallel universe!â Missy simmered up, swinging around on her ankles.
âYou are annoying.â
âYou could have let Torvic kill me!â She put her hands on her hips and pulled a sour face.
âIâm sorry, whoâs Torvic?â You were being bombarded with more information than you could handle.
âI was a soft lad. This kid kept bullying me. He was going to kill me, but here does come ikkle little Doctor with a rock! Bye bye Torvic!â She announced it like she was a wrestling presenter.
âHow old wereâŠyou all?â
âTen!â Missy clapped her hands together.
âDeathâs champion!â She elaborated with a sick glee, pointing at the Doctor.
âIâm assuming you canâŠchange sexes.â You kept piecing it together. âWere you ever a woman?â
âMaybe next go!â The Doctor said.
You leaned down and rested your fingers on your jaw as if to keep it from falling off onto the ground.
âSoâŠhow does that all work?â
âTwo hearts, they prevent death and kick in our ancient rights!â Missy flourished.
âItâs a bit more complicated than that.â The Doctor stepped in. âWe get a new face, new body. New chances. We keep our core. But everything from our personality to our kidneys.â
You inhaled.
âAnything else I need to knowâŠassuming that you do that in front of me.â You curbed your attention to the Doctor. You wanted answers and you didnât want him to give up this particular body. You didnât want to play this particular game of Russian Roulette. His body right now was perfectâŠfrom his hair to his toes. Like it was personally designed to drive you mad. A sexy, silver fox with dynamic light eyes and a smile that robbed you of the ability to breathe, plus that voice like was a good motorcycle engine. And, a perfect package that hit right in the right spotsâŠ
You were objectifying an immortal alien.
What had your life become?
âThat shitâsâŠcrazy.â You gave an exceedingly reductive statement.
âNo promises, but Iâll try.â He gave you a small, reassuring smileâŠ
âBefore precious Rose, there was his wife, that Scottish lad, that journalist Sarah Jane Smith, me, that ginger twink whoâs name escapes me and probably a few Iâm forgetting! And after there was-â Missy smiled a positively evil grin.
You put your hand up and stopped her from going into any more detail.
âSarah Jane Smith? The mega-journo who always had the hottest stories? The one who was always leaking the top bylines?â You instinctively tore off your thumb nail.
You kept putting your hands up and down. Going to point a finger. You felt like a malfunctioning kettle.
âW-w-what? Do youâŠsee in me?â You raised both of your hands up as you shrugged and struggled. âUniverse traveling blondes? Award-winning journalists? A ginger twink? This jailbird?â You voice scaling up octaves to those only dogs could hear as you slapped your hands over your thighs and grasped them tightlyâŠ
You started those dratted breathing exercises and placed your right hand on your only heart.
The Doctor seemed to be sorting through some sort of dilemma in his mind.
âYeah, tell her!â Missy cheered.
You shot her a murderous glare.
She scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue.
âI see you as warmth. You are yourself. I see you as someone whoâs good. Despite it all. A good student and a great partner. Someone to enjoy while I can. Nothing to complicate or drag into danger.â
Something about these words and his gaze into you had you fighting these words, but becoming placated by them. They were like a cozy quilt on your worriesâŠ
âIâve put others I loved in danger. Learned those lessons. Never again.â
You felt your mind slowing down from the anger and self-doubt.
It felt like truthfulness. Youâd take truthfulness.
The looks that Missy and the Doctor passed between each other has you shiver in fear.
You felt like you needed to vomit.
âCan I go home now?â You squeaked out once you felt a but more emotionally regulated.
âOf course.â He helped you up and turned to Missy, âNo tuba.â He told her.
She raged on a bit as you felt yourself being tucked into his side and escorted out.
You leaned against a wall as he locked the Vault up.
He folded you under his arm.
âSo what do you think of my best enemy?â
You felt yourself feeling suddenly very sleepy and like you had been dreaming. You were very conflicted and of many minds. You would have to work through all this later. There was just so much information and new thoughts that needed evaluated. Though you felt something holding you back from it. The emotional toll of the past few days, inevitably catching up to you.
What was that something was holding you back?
Probably your love of the Doctor.
You felt yourself crying.
âWhy donât I walk you to your flat? Whatâs the address?â He wiped your face with some old-fashioned looking hankie.
You gave him your address. It was a longer walk, but maybe it would do you good.
You started to walk. It was going somewhat smoothly.
After a silent walk, you stated as you got closer to the safety of your home. âI think sheâs insane. Probably itâs for the best sheâs in thatâŠsituation. Like sectioning, but worse? She could be fun, if she tried. I feelâŠyeah. I mean, if youâre a package deal. A bit weird sheâs your ex. But yeah.â You answered his previous question.
âIs she a threat? To me?â You asked, jealously.
âNo, weâre finished. Ancient news far older than your civilizationâŠâ
âAh, okay.â You felt more satisfied.
âShe is quiteâŠpretty.â You remarked.
âHadnât noticed.â
You nodded, as you arrived to the front door.
âThis is me.â You pointed. âYouâŠwant to come up? Get a night cap. I know Iâm going to need it.â You joked, as you used your pinky nail to scratch the bridge of your nose.
âNot tonight. How about after you finish exams? I still have to some things done in that regards.â
âValid.â
He leaned down and pressed hip lips to your forehead.
âGood-night, (y/n).â He smiled as he closed his hand over yours and gave it a squeeze.
âGood-night, Doctor.â It still felt strange to not call him âProfessorâ. You didnât know how to feel. Calling him âProfessorâ felt better coming off your tongue.
So much to over-analyze.
You opened the door and went up to your flat. After pouring yourself a large shot of vodka to take, you laid on your favorite chair and zoned out.
So much for a normal, nice time at university!
When Peter Cushing is the heroic lead in the film you're watching

Teacher's Pet part 14

Synopsis: The Reader gets a potential glimpse into her future. She also makes an enemy.
A/n: yeaaayyyy. More fun. Fuckery world building. Thanks to all my readers. I should probably do a tag list instead of zapping ur inboxes. Uhhh....yeah. to my mutuals who have to deal with me and aren't attached to this, I am sorry. I love you and I would donate my organs to you.
Grades were posted. Most were good, nothing to really write home about. You did far better than you expecting. The self-doubt really was deep-rooted, wasnât it?
Except one. That stupid alien gave you a near-perfect. Just one point shy of an absolutely perfect one-hundred percent.
So much for no favoritismâŠ
Youâd take it anyways. And not bring it upâŠ
Work was slow but it was steady.
He even met you between shifts at your park.
You started feeling a tad insane without him. Did love feel like this? You admitted you had little experience with love. Just what you attempted to create in the past. And trashy books and television shows and movies and songsâŠ
You needed him like you needed a cigarette and a stiff drink after a long day.
Bella Swan would be so proud of you, you degraded yourself in your mind.
âHow is work going?â The Doctor asked with genuine shine of curiosity in his tone and face.
âThe amount of professors in nowâŠI have to dodge them! I do think the statistics professor I had two terms ago recognized me!â You spoke in a shocked, scared tone. You didnât need that getting out. Could ruin your future plans.
âOh no!â He chuckled, as he handed you a bit of sandwich.
âYou arenât forgettable.â
You skeptically glared over at him.
âAny who. How was your gig at the student union?â
âNo one appreciated the irony of Pink Floyd.â
âAnd?â
âEveryone loves Doctor Disco!â He flourished then played air guitar.
You burst out laughing. With a quick roll of your eyes, you shook your head.
âYouâre such a nerd.â
âI invented the concept!â
âProbably true!â You let yourself think of his time on Earth. Who knew what funk he has spread? You werenât going to delve into it much more.
Yet.
One day, when you felt brave enough.
âI have to go to London for a while in two weeks. Just maintenance of the Black ArchivesâŠI need to streamline some stuff for making it easier for my next few regenerations. And update some things about a plan for proxy since another organization is down to a woman named Gwen and her husband and sheâs thinking of retiring the entire engagement. HerâŠleader hasnât returned to the planet in ages. I doubt he ever will. This planet has caused him too much pain. Which, ironic, since his ancestors came from here. Talk about mother wounds! Just upload all the databases for UNIT to deal with.â
âInviting me?â You clarified.
âYeahâŠI think itâll take a week. Especially with the layers of bureaucracy that is in place these days.â He looked over, his hair caught in the wind. âCould you spare a week? No TARDIS, no time travel. Just hop to, hop out, the slow way around.â
You licked your top row of teeth and scraped it back into place.
âSure?â
âPerfect. Iâll have them ready a room, a better room for us.â
âOne with a window?â
âIf they do have those.â
You nodded.
âItâs a date!â
âFantastic.â He smiled but seemed to flash in his eyes some hidden response from just the one wordâŠ
You chewed your shared sandwich and sipped your can of Coke Zero. The weather was getting warmer and the sun was actually shining in one of those perfect, photo-ready days.
âThe vitamin D feels good, doesnât it?â You turned your head to face the sun. The heat felt too good on your skin. You let a little moan slip through your lips.
âPerhaps. I might need a sun crĂšme soon.â He replied.
You snorted. He was bone pale, but you didnât know how alien skin worked yet.
âYeah, you are pretty pale.â
Your alarm went off and you had to go.
Final good-byes said and you stalked off.
You had to plan out your little London escape. If it was hard work for him, you wanted to kill time in comfort. Do some sightseeing. Nothing major. London had tons of viral cafés and pop-ups.
The time flew byâŠ
And suddenly you were off and away in another fancy armored Range Rover with armed escorts.
He did do you a bit of justice and got you a room with a view. Just not a particularly stunning oneâŠ
He went off, rather rapidly if you did say so yourself, because something needed him to submit his DNA and he couldnât have any radiant interference. Petronella needed to be with him to get her DNA analyzed or something. You were not going to try to comprehend.
Fine by you, youâd nose around. There were so many floor and he gave you some sort of weird blank paper he said would get you through anything you needed.
âItâs psychic paper!â He said, smile up to his ears.
âLooks like a piece of printer paper shoved into an old wallet to me.â You replied as you regarded the object.
Fine by you, you stuffed it in your jeanâs pocket.
You found yourself on the first floor, and saw a door open. There was a sign posted on an easel. âCompanions and Surviving Family Support Groupâ, it proclaimed.
You put two and two together. It was probably in reference to the man doing who-knows-what.
You werenât a companion per say. The Doctor assured you as much.
Did you invade? Did you go look at your future? Or a potential future? It mentioned family membersâŠ
Your curiosity got the best of you. Like that damn cat!
You walked in, it was set up like a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. Coffee, sweet treats, chairs all in a circle.
There were already a crowd of people.
And your entrance wasnât exactly planned.
You slid onto the chair that was closest to the door. An east exit if this was too much.
âOh! A new face!â A woman with a lot of life etched into her face with a kind smile and a mop of white-shock hair, her lips as red as blood.
âDoes, isâŠam I late?â Was the best you could choke out. You could feel your eyes start to bulge. You swallowed hard. All eyes were on you. You didnât like it. You preferred anonymity.
The mistake was already clear in your mind.
âNo, dove. Right on time! Weâre still waiting on Ian! Iâm Jo!â She scooted her chair closer to you.
You thrust your tongue out and bit itâs side.
âIâm (y/n).â
A short woman with a leather jacket and all the authoritarian air of something that placed your hairs on the back of your neck at attention glared at you and Jo. âWhy donât we save it all for introductionsâŠâ
You got up and grabbed a bottle of water and sat back down.
An ancient man wandered in and sat down.
âOh! Ian, love! We got a new straggler!â Jo said to him and gave him a hug that seemed too strong for her aged body.
The bossy girl cleared her throat. âNow we can start.â
You hated her already. She clearly ran this group with an iron fist.
There was Jo, Ian, the bitchâs name was Yaz, Martha, a woman who called herself Ace, a married couple named Nyssa and Tegan, a grandmother and grandson duo named Graham and Ryan, a Mel, and some young man named LukeâŠ
Quite a big group.
It came down to you, you introduced yourself. And were supposed to give some brief synopsis of your relationship with the Doctor.
You stared off into space.
âYeah, heâs hereâŠdoing something. I donât know. Iâm hisâŠgirlfriend. Heâs also a professor at my university.â You stared at your left palm and gauged the reaction. âNothing major. Iâve got his promise that heâs not going to get me in the way of death.â You finished with a shrug. âHe introduced me to hisâŠex recently. Some milf named Missy. Have you lot met her?â
Yazâs eyes could have make entrails out of youâŠ
âWhat? Did I not brush my teeth correctly?â You pointed that faux-question towards her.
âShe told me she didnât do relationships.â She spoke in a tiny voice eventually.
âWell, maybe Iâm special.â You shot Yaz a shit-eating grin masked as an innocent smile.
âOh! I heard the Master went female!â Jo broke up your brewing tiff. âHe was such a softie towards me! I enjoyed our little battles.â
You laughed and covered up your palm.
The conversations went on. Mainly centered around Missy now. Apparently she was the prime minister and tortured Martha and her family. Also, body-snatched Nyssaâs father. And became a cat. Sheâd certainly done her fair share of damage. No wonder she was chained up in a basement in Bristol of all places.
That explained her feline nature.
âWhich Doctor are you with?â
âI donât know. Tall? Thin? Scottish? Severe face? Plays guitar? Wild grey hair. Dark roots, too handsomeâŠyeah.â You didnât know how many or what the Doctor looked like previously.
âOh. So the one before Yaz and Graham and me!â Ryan piped up. âShe mentioned being a grey-haired Scot right before we met her.â
âOh, so he got his wish of being a chick next.â You affirmed.
âWonder what happened to you!â Yaz said, venom starting to leak into her voice.
âNothing I need to know about, okay?â You pressured back. Two could play this game.
She clearly had sour grapes over you getting chosen and not her.
More conversations broke out, more story-swapping. You started to feel beyond way out just out of your depths. You had to keep your calm. Especially in front of your new foe. Any weakness and you were going to be either throwing down with her or sheâd do something unspeakable.
She was apparently a police officer, after all!
âSo youâve never gone on an adventure? To space? Not even back in time? Or forward?â Ace spoke incredulously.
âNo, Iâm not going to put my life at risk. I made him promise to not. Heâs retired. He just needs to help UNIT and rehabilitate Missy.â
âShe doesnât stay good!â Yaz spit out. She then told her tale of him and how the only way to break free from him, the Doctor had to hand Missy over to the Nazis.
âNot my problem.â You said, after finally scraping your jaw off the floor.
âAnd wow, what the fuck happened between now and when? Handing over someone to the literal Nazis?â You shot up an errant hand and glared. âAnd hanging around cops. No offense. Itâs like historical Jesus versus American Jesus.â You made the decision to bite your middle finger nail in a covert attempt to flip her off.
âMaybe you had something to do with it.â She accused.
âOh, yeah. Blame me.â You said.
Others attempted civility between the two of you.
Martha seemed between two minds here.
âJust remember how powerful your emotions are!â Ian called out. âEspecially how deeply the Doctor evokes them in us!â
It dawned on you, and you decided to take the highest of roads. âYeah, were dealing with some alien. LikeâŠdamn. We really are out here gettingâŠ.cut up over an alien. Heâs our weird alien. But yeah.â He was your alien. And you were going to defend your man, but you didnât want Yaz and her feelings to make you any less powerful. âHis body count has got to be in the millions.â You used the term in a way to dig in that the Doctor picked you for the mainstream meaning and not Yaz. But it worked for companions too!
âWho knows how many of us heâs taken a shine to!â Suddenly you felt yourself heart plummet. You knew you werenât special as part of a group, but you decided to soothe yourself with your marked differences. No magical abduction story. Just a normal, morally-grey student and teacher relationship. Only it was your luck to end up with the most ran-through alien.
And, it did suit you. You too were âran-throughâ.
You wished he was free and you could get some comfort hereâŠ
You felt yourself return to normal, and decided to pass the ultimate catch.
âSorry for getting heated. The past month or so since heâs revealed his double life to me, has beenâŠshattering. Iâve only recently discovered that he wasâŠyou know, not some man I hang out with. I only recently started calling him Doctor. Not Professor Smith.â
The though of him not taking anyone else as a lover after you did fill you with a sense of pride. Whatever impact you had, that was a mark in your favor. Loyal to youâŠeven if you were dead or broken-up or whatever your fate was to mess around with anyone else.
A permanent (y/n)-shaped hole no one could even get close enough to fill.
When he was done with his task youâd have to slap him and then suck him off.
Martha finally put in her two cents.
âJust donât get hurt. The last time he was in love when I was with himâŠso bad. The ending was enough to destroy me.â
âThank you.â
The conversation went back to normal. You really enjoyed Joâs stories. Apparently he was a white-haired debonair sort for her. You were curious to see what that had looked like. You doubted it could compare to your particular Doctor, but it was probably very close.
You found yourself laughing and getting along with most. Except for Yaz. You both kept finding yourselves shooting daggers at each other.
You tried to rise above it.
However. You were only humanâŠ
You heard a sharp rap at the door and turned at the noise.
It was your Doctor.
âSorry. I was going to the toilets. Heard some nice familiar voices. Smelt the coffee! I love a cup of coffee after genetic sequencingâŠHello!â
There were nary a word as he strode over and made a cup, dumping about a dozen sugar packets in.
âIâll let you all talk amongst yourselves. Oh, and (y/n), I have tickets to walk through the Chelsea Physic Garden at three. Will you join me? And Martha, I am so deeply sorry for all Iâve done to you. Itâs weighed on my conscience since I was a young man in a bow-tie. Truly. From the bottoms of both my hearts. And, oh, faces I donât know yet, catch your laters.â He shot a quick peace sign.
He breezed out with the same ease that he came in withâŠ
You flushed hard and felt yourself wanting to kick your legs hard. The smile that crept up around your face was probably very goofy. You felt suddenly very giddy and lovesick. And embarrassed.
You swore you heard Yaz mutter something about âDaddy issuesâ.
You wanted to snap and fight her on the floor.
Jo and Ace heckled. âOh, heâs back to being a groovy gentleman.â Jo said. âI recognize that red jacket!â
After a while, everyone seemed to wrap it up.
You received quite a few warnings about how passionate a relationship with the Doctor is, and how it would eventually run itâs course.
You didnât know whether to heed it, or believe him. You were airing on the side of him. After all, he could have popped down here in his TARDIS, but he was following your regulations down to the letter. Changed behaviors, and for whatever reason, when you were long gone, and he was a she, the Doctor didnât take Yaz up on her romantic offerings.
You felt ashamed of your âI can fix himâ/âI am the only exceptionâ mindset. You were a rebel to the idea of monogamy usually. You also didnât believe in true love. Not after all that youâd seen at work and even experienced in your personal life. However, the beating of your heart and the ache in your soul and the throb of your cunt interferedâŠ
You felt like you were his favorite.
Maybe you were.
You were delusional enough, you decided.
With final hugs and you swore youâd get down and learn more about your shared alien, youâd exited to go and text him that you were out front, smoking.
âYou know, maybe you died from lung cancer.â Yaz materialized, carrying some stuff to her car. âOr emphysema.â
You blew out a puff in her general direction.
âI donât need a lecture. Heâs already on my ass enough to get me to quit.â You played back.
âSo, lady Doctor. What does she look like?â You asked. Curious. You tried a friendly route. âStill Scottish?â The two incarnations of Time Lords you had met had been. It was an honest question. You even tried a cordial laugh.
âNo, definitely not Scottish.â
You nodded.
âSheâs blonde and has the most amazing eyes! I took her to get her ears pierced. Sheâs the most incredible and infuriating person Iâve ever met.â
âApparently thatâs par for the course.â You agreed.
She gave you some agreement.
âDoes she still play guitar?â You offered an opportunity to bond, girl to girl. You may have hated her, but a cop on your side may come in handy. One day. And you both were tied to each other now.
SoâŠyou had to act your age or whatever.
She was a little younger than you. You could remember being her age. Empathy.
âNo, she canât even carry a tune. She sings all the time.â
You had to let a small snort escape.
âHe can sing really well.â You cupped a palm to your mouth. âItâs a bit annoying at times, you know. He frequently does during his lectures.â
âSoâŠthat hadnât changed.â You could see the gears in her brain turning.
âWait, heâs your professor?â She exclaimed.
âNot currently.â You shrugged, as his text saying that he was coming down popped up, absolved of guilt.
âThatâs so wrong!â
âHoney, the Doctor abducts barely legal girls with a degree of regularity. I think a tame affair with a student who started uni later than most is the best-case scenario. You included.â You flicked a bit of ash off your cigarettes end. âNo offense.â
âYeahâŠâ You clearly won.
He swanned into the little front garden at the entrance of UNIT. He changed to a hoodie and simple black blazer and a relaxed pair of checked trousers.
It made your heart skip a beat.
âHey. I was thinking Italian for dinner. Or Thai. In the fifty-second century thereâs a great collision of their flight colonies.â
You smacked your teeth together and let out the final puff of smoke.
âYouâre the Doctor before my Doctor.â Yaz gazed up, a look of pre-mourning in her eyes.
âAs my wife, River, would say, âSpoilers, sweetie.â Itâs nice to meet you early. Iâll try to wipe you from my memory to make it easier for my future self.â He gave Yazâs shoulder a squeeze.
âYeah, good luck. See you soon?â You called out as you let yourself be swept off your feet by your particular Doctor.
âSure?â You heard her say.
A few blocks later and going on the Underground, you pulled him close by the lapels. You gave him a firm kiss and slapped his ass. It was a âthank-youâ in a small, simple way. Youâd never end up, all things go as planned, like any of those perfect victims. Who knew, maybe youâd dump him. It was all open-ended.
You had your entire life ahead of you. More or less.
For now, it was just you, the Doctor, and a walk in a garden with a fabulous dinner date.
âWhat was that for?â He looked at you quizzically.
âYouâll never knowâŠâ You grinned immensely and a little psychotically. You felt your nose crinkle a bit.
âOh?â He replied back, skeptical in tone.
It was a start.
âYeahâŠâ You breathed, inhaling this moment. Inhaling the scent of him, you felt sane, safe, stable and most importantly- in love and loved back.
The train pulled up.
A perfect start to a perfect week.
He snaked out the psychic paper and tapped it like it was an oyster card. You entered the platform and smiled up at him...
Yeah, life was beyond awesome.
Teacher's Pet part 16

Synopsis: The reader feels off after last nightâs activities. She starts to flounder a bit, and she meets another cautionary tale. What?
A/n: I'm so so so sorry that this took so long. Life has happened, so yay! But here's Gwen! Yay! To all who read this, rhank you so much! And to my mutual, you are the best.
Needless to say, you woke up sore. The kind of sore it would take you a little while to get out of bed for. Your usual jolt out of sleep happened, but it was stopped by the Time Lord's vice grip on your body. He seemed to be still asleep. His hearts thrumming in a rhythm of four lulling you out of you usual first moments of anxiety you always suffered from upon waking.
You could feel every bite and thrust of the night before. He was like an animal in heat. The way he acted felt quite literally couldnât be described as any way but in rut.
Did Time Lords have mating schedules? You knew the gender thing was a bit murky. But did they have a mating schedule? You didnât know if a hybrid of human and Time Lord was possibleâŠ
Or if the morning-after pill would work.
You silently begged your IUD to put in the work.
Plus, would the abortion clinic be able to deal with it? Or would you have to break your own rules and go off planet to some space clinic to deal with that?
Your singular heart raced in itâs cage.
You pushed some of these truly silly thoughts aside.
A dark, but nice thought of you knocked up with his kid entered your brain. Maybe youâd look good pregnantâŠand if it were his kid?
You swallowed and laughed at yourself, You must really be in a committed relationship of you had domestic bliss coming to your mind. Derailing your plans and solid oathsâŠ
You felt mentally changed too. It was difficult to put your finger on it, maybe it was his possessiveness of you in the act. Or the fact that he was changing his entire lifestyle to suit you. Sometimes feltâŠdistinctively off.
Not that you minded. Change was good.
But it lay there as surely as you did, covered in bruises and muscles still shaking to their core. An inexplicable feeling, a haunting sensation.
You laid next to him quietly. Unable to break the moment where it stood. The moment was not half bad in itself.
You noticed the hearts behind you start to speed up. You turned your body gently in the hold and saw his eyes gazed up at you.
âHow long have you been up?â You questioned.
âSeconds.â
It was satisfactory enough for you.
âHey, do you really have to meet with this woman? We can play hooky and I donât knowâŠget a Chinese and sit by the river.â You tempted. You didnât want to leave his side at all. You felt the urge to curl into his ribcage and stay there. In that bed. Indefinitely.
âI have to do my jobâŠâ His lashes caught on themselves as he rolled his eyes.
âFair enough.â You replied as you thought about the money you personally were missing out on. Youâd feel it in the middle of the next term when you couldnât even afford a packet of crisps and a cheap beer to take the edge off.
Yet alone cigarettes and cheap lingerieâŠ
âYeahâŠâ You didnât push.
âFree to come with me, my fawn.â He tightened his grip on you as he nestled his face in your hair, pushing his forehead to yours.
âYou mentioned some person from another organization? Whatâs her deal?â Curiosity threatenedâŠ
âOh, yes. Gwen Cooper-Williams. She was a part of this organization funded by the monarchy. To investigate and harvest alien technology and be off the books about it. Was started because Victoria and I had some issues. My old friendâŠâ The word friend seemed to hiss its way out of his teeth. Lots of baggage there, you noted. âTook over the Cardiff branch. Was trying to reform it from the inside in my honor. She was his second-in-command. Everyone died. Except them.â
You felt grim. Death followed the Doctor like that kilo that you kept gaining and losing did.
However, the grimy thought swept itself away with the blink of those perfect eyes and the warmth of the bed you shared. He might have been cooler than you in body temperature, but the blankets and your warm, human body made it a comfortable furnaceâŠ
The horrors of the Doctorâs ever-widening world were getting bigger, but you werenât reacting how you probably should be.
More differences.
âI think she may be bringing her familyâŠA real family affair.â
âLike Mary J. Blige?â You tried a little bit of banter.
âMaybeâŠthat sounds familiar. But I canât place itâŠâ He mused, seemingly inhaling your exhale.
âOf course. â
You found yourself having to leave the warm pile of blankets and him, his alarm on a watch announced itself.
You let out a puff of air as you pouted. He got out of bed and you crinkled the bedding around your neck and tucked your chin over it.
âYou can come with me or get out.â He bribed against your petulance.
âFine!â You made a show of it as you got out of bed. By the time you had resigned yourself to being officially âupâ, he was mostly dressed.
âHumans, you really are a bunch of kids at times.â He observed as he zipped up his hoodie and went for his blazer.
âWeird thing to say to someone you actively sleep with.â You shot back as you crouched over your suitcase and started picking through the clothes.
âWell, I am hundreds of years older than you, arenât I, my darling fawn.â He pet your hair and traced his way down to stroke the underside of your throat. You liked the sensation and how it sent a shiver down your spine.
âMmmm, yeah.â You leaned into it as he took his other hand and glided it through your hair. You halted your search for a pair of fresh underwear and a top.
âBe good and Iâll get you permanent clearance here.â He jokingly chided.
âOkayâŠâ You sighed as you didnât really want clearance, but it was a nice offer anyhow.
You got up and started to dress yourself. Nothing too special, just an old tee-shirt and jeans, you didnât know what all the day entailed, so you went for easy everything. You thanked your lucky stars you had a nice jacket tucked away for any night time casual excursions.
You went into the bathroom and did your normal skincare and some basic make-up, and to cover up the love bites he gave you. With all that, you kept your hair down.
These were no ones business, you felt.
âI knew a person, she needed three mirrors to do her make-up.â He placed his right hand in the air and moved it about to elaborate that.
âI meanâŠit helps.â You shrugged as you finished up sticking on a coat of lip gloss.
âShe had an abnormally round face.â
âCool.â
He offered you the crook of his arm and you grabbed your purse.
You met the head of UNIT, Petronella and some others you couldnât recall, and some soldiers in the entrance as some very attractive middle-aged woman with dark brown, almost black hair and green eyes walked in. She wore a utilitarian leather jacket and a pair of combat boots. She held a laptop bag and a messenger bag was slung over her shoulder.
Her freckles were captivatingâŠ
She was accompanied by a slightly-heavy set man, a young teen girl and a preteen boy. The man had a big rucksack on and had a laptop bag as well.
âOy! Youâre Kate?â She walked up to Kate Stewart and offered to shake her hand.
âYes, pleased to finally meet you, Missus Cooper-Williams. I trust your trip up from Porth Colmon was pleasant.â Kate went in with a degree of professionalism that went over the head of both you and this Gwen character.
âI got a note from Martha Jones to wish you wellâŠâ Kate added on.
âIâll send her an email.â The womanâs Welsh accent trilled delightfully through your skull.
You felt yourself grow several shades of embarrassed.
âIâm the Doctor.â Your obviously-there boyfriend motioned over, offering himself into the fray.
You stood by and felt your cheeks burn as she stared at him. You felt like you didnât belong. You knew you probably did. You felt entitled to belong here.
âYou lookâŠfamiliar? Why do I know you?â Gwen took a look at him, a haunted expression seemed to catch in her throat as she hitched her breath out of her lungs.
âIâve been told my face is unforgettable.â He smiled and swished his fingers up over.
âIâll figure it out.â
âYou do that.â
The professionals took over and ushered everyone into a basement digital archive.
You made yourself useful and got everyoneâs tea and coffee order and went to the small coffee station in the corner.
âI take it youâre the new Jack and Martha? A new Rose?â Gwen said as she took her tea out of your hand.
âI guess?â You felt a pang of something, jealously perhaps. More of that sinking that you felt at the botched Narcotic Another meeting for companions.
However, the minute these emotions took hold, you felt yourself being washed in a wave of self-reassurance. You were different, you were his fawn. His favorite.
It felt off, but you sighed in relief.
âWhen you get thrown out, yeah, Torchwood may be now gone. But my sofa is open. He dumped Jack in a bad place far from home.â She whispered. âIf you get dumped in the past, here on Earth, here's all my addresses. Tell me youâre a friend of Jack. Iâll retcon myself obviously. But if itâs in the futureâŠâ She quickly scribbled down some addresses and slid them into your pantsâ pocket.
You looked over, a stabbing in your eyes at your Doctor, who was shredding wires to optimize intake, sonic screwdriver wedged into his mouth.
You felt yourself start to shake, but more of your brain started talking at you. It told you that heâd never do that to you, and didnât you recall that you never would go into space, let alone go back in time. It was a warm, cloying feeling, not unlike the blankets that you so unwillingly left that morning.
You inhaled and the sigh of relief came up again.
You were his favorite little fawn, after all!
You sat back and let everyone go about. The children were engrossed on their phones.
You still felt off, and you worried maybe your IUD got slightly dislodged after last nightâs activities.
Could you get pregnant if that happened? You couldnât recall reading that in the unholy ream of paper that was included in its placement.
You stared at them. Pondering what would happen if you were getting pregnant as you sat there. What if you couldnât get rid of a half-human, half-Time Lord fetus? Were you prepared for motherhood?
You had so much life and plans for the future.
A future that was already disrupted, but you were still going to have one.
A baby, regardless of species, would ruin thatâŠ
Could you be a good parent? Did you have that in you? The Doctor had parenting experience. He mentioned a granddaughter. You didnât know how good of one he was. You didnât know that. You couldnâtâŠ
You shook yourself mentally by your shoulders. You clearly were losing it. You had to snap out of it.
Good lord! Was this you in a healthy relationship? Sappy and soft? Thinking of total domesticity?
A side of you youâve never metâŠ
It was all reasonably quick in the end. The entire operation wrapped up as quickly as it had started.
âIâd recommend you to a few museums for your childrenâŠâ You heard Kate say to Gwen and Rhys. (You had heard Gwen say his name quite a few times in the last hour and a half.)
âNo, weâre going back to Wales. Quick trip to this dump you call our capital, go back.â Gwen said. No love clearly lost there!
The Doctor snickered.
As she left, she shot one final look at you. It seemed imploring. Then one final, baffled look at the Doctor.
She took her menagerie and vanished into the busy streets.
Apparently the Doctor was needed at meetings, and you were given the afternoon off. You got a reassuring kiss and told to have fun. London was free for you to use and abuse.
You took it. You needed the fresh air. A quick, real-life reality check. Away from whatever BBC-level, sci-fi bullshit your life had become.
You found yourself fiddling with your necklaces and adjusting them against the bruises on your neck and shoulders. The shirt you were wearing wasnât a good enough barrier, but it was good enough for now.
You found yourself in some park near a Tesco Superstore and holding a coffee from a near-by café you hardly remembered ordering. It was growing cold.
You broke down, fully embarrassed about the day. Not only how useless you felt, but how you were so sick with love that you werenât even able to have yourself a sense of worry.
You felt weak.
You would have usually tried to buck yourself up, to make yourself and your ego take precautions against this. But it didnât come. All you could think about was him. His everything down to the way his toes were shaped.
You felt like without him youâd physically fall into shards.
Truly, relationships werenât for you.
But you dare not do anything.
You loved him too much.
You made a note to go see your gynecologist and perhaps get a therapist.
You started to light up a cigarette but you gazed up at the sky as it burnt itself up.
You got a text from him wondering where you were. You shared your location. He was on his way.
Suddenly, all your apprehension and agony of the situation vanished. He was coming here! He was coming for you! He was going to join you! Your Doctor was coming to spend the rest of the day with you on this park bench! Heâd never desert you or let you go away from him!
You fought to get yourself under control, you may be sickeningly in love, but you were in publicâŠ
You sipped your ice-cold, formerly-hot coffee and waited for him to join you.
Thus, he did.
He slid up besides you and looked out across the park.
âSo what did you do?â He asked in earnest.
You felt instantly clear-headed and in a less pensive mood. âJust this, went on the Tube. Wandered. I donât want to be a tourist.â
âYeah, you blend right in.â He trilled, you took it for sarcasm.
You shrugged and exaggerated your hands. Your ring on your left index finger lightly clicked off the side of the bench as you slid it back down at rest.
âWhatâs something you wish you could do? Anything in the whole of the city! Name one thing and itâs yoursâŠâ He revved himself up.
He wrapped a finger in your hair and curled it in to the base of your skull as he went to stroke your jaw slightly and repeatedly.
It sent a shiver down your spine and pleasure to your core. It made you throb a tad.
Here you were, coming undone, in public. Children were around! So were dogs! Not an optimal placeâŠ
But nonetheless, you felt a heavy pull in your gut as you leaned your jaw up and felt the sky beam a ray of sun onto you. His fingers felt next to glorious as they stroked you and the entwined finger anchored his entire hand on you. The way his thumb was swiping over your lips was absolutely criminal. The skin on your lower lip was prickling and getting more sensitive with every sweep. Your moan was slight and reverberated throughout his thumb. You parted your lips in hope that heâd place it inside your mouth.
âThis feels nice. Can we do this?â You cooed.
âMaybe later.â He used his entwined finger to pull your head up and kiss you and untangling himself from your head.
You dwelled on his ask of you for a moment before you whipped out your phone to consult your list you made previously in preparation.
âGunnersbury Park Museum? The Natural History Museum? Iâve got a lot of cafĂ©s and little record stores and book shops listed. But you could choseâŠI mean. You could probably correct the exhibits if theyâre wrong.â You let out a nervous laugh and mocked his age lovingly.
âIâm not allowed in the Natural History Museum.â He shook his head and bull-frogged his cheeks. âYes, it was this particular body. No, Iâm not risking it.â
You bit your lips together and started shredding bits of skin off with your front teeth.
âOf course.â
He looked over at your list, an eyebrow cautiously raised. The Doctor tapped at one of your ideas.
âKew Gardens is relatively near here. We can go there.â
âAfter you, then.â You smiled and got up, offering in the crook of your arm.
His face was unreadable, but inched towards amused. At least that was your interpretation. Sometimes faces were tricky for you, but this man was no exception. Often it seemed like he was human enough to interpret things at face value, sometimes things felt like maybe faces worked differently where he was from.
As if you didnât feel like enough of a freakâŠ
But he understood you always. Even when you didnât understand you, yourself. Which came in handy, all things considered. Most people seemed to interpret your words and actions differently than intended. But not him, not the Doctor.
It was almost like he was inside your brain.
Maybe that was a perk of dating an ancient alien who had been around the block. Heâd already been domesticated.
Good.
Whatever it was, youâd take it!
As he took your arm and you headed out to Kew Gardens, you felt positively swept away.
Over eight billion people on the planet, and who knew how many more out in that big, mad universe he traveled.
And here he was, with you!
How lucky you were.