Writer of time-tangled tales, mostly involving one very sexy Time Lord and a lot of unresolved tension (that gets very resolved). Expect psychic bonds, slow burns, faster hands, and more sass than the TARDIS can carry.
A quiet morning, a heavy heart, and a planet of soft bioluminescent night meant to help you breathe again.
But sometimes the gentle things aren’t gentle at all… especially the ones we carry inside ourselves.
You woke heavier than usual, not unfamiliar, just unwelcome.
The Doctor notices, even when you think you’ve hidden it well.
A peaceful world, a moment of calm… and a creature that reflects the pain you never say aloud.
**"I don't need stories,
no quotes from strangers.
I don't need explanations about
who betrayed me.
I want to know
why you stood there
as my soul was dismembered in their absence.
Because friendship means
holding my hand when others let go.
It means, in a room filled with silence,
being the voice that says, 'Enough.'
I didn't expect you to defend me,
like a hero in battle.
Only that you wouldn't allow
my name to fall to the dust
while you stood by and breathed.
True friends aren't bystanders
when pain is dispensed.
They're the silent shield
that stands between you and the lie.
And now I know:
Some bonds don't last
because they were never truly committed.
They were just words—
until the moment came
when actions should matter."**
If the 13th Doctor has a million fans, then I am one of them. If the 13th Doctor has ten fans, then I am one of them. If the 13th Doctor has only one fan then that is me. If the 13th Doctor has no fans, then that means I am no longer on earth. If the world is against the 13th Doctor, then I am against the world.
✨ New Fic Drop ✨
🚨 Psychic cuffs, telepathic chaos, and a flustered reader trying not to combust.
It started with a nice trip to an alien carnival, but with one suspiciously charming vendor later, chaos ensues.
The Doctor says it’s probably safe.
Naturally, it’s absolutely not.
Cue one magical handcuff, zero warning, and a Time Lord who can now hear every single thought you never meant to say out loud.
🛸 Thirteenth Doctor x Female Reader
🥵 Rated E for everything you’ve been thinking
💛 Dom!Doctor, forced proximity, smut with feelings, emotional tension, and way too much blushing
It started with an innocent innuendo…and ended with you tied to a chair.
Author’s Note:
This fic contains suggestive language, dangerous levels of flirtation, and at least three emotional meltdowns. Reader discretion (and hydration) advised.
No custard creams were harmed in the making of this fanfic. The same cannot be said for the reader’s composure.
As always feedback and kudos appreciated 😁🤗
👉 Read it on AO3 here
You were flat on your back beneath the console. Not by choice.
The Doctor had handed you a heavy chunk of humming tech, something that sparked when you moved it , and said, “Hold this up for just a sec, yeah?” before vanishing with a suspiciously cheerful hum.
Now your arms were burning, your ponytail was sticking to your neck, and your fitted trousers were definitely not made for impromptu engineering support.
This was not the adventure you pictured when you signed up for a time-traveling alien with excellent hair.
“I can’t even reach far enough to get my fingers around it fully,” you muttered in frustration, trying to adjust your grip as the component moved above your head.
Silence.
Then… a sudden shift of weight. Boots on metal. The thrum of her returning. She ducked beneath the console with you, fluid and predatory, straddling your hips without hesitation. Her coat spilled around you. Her face was inches from yours.
You froze.
The Doctor’s grin was slow. Dangerous. “That what you were trying to do?” she murmured, voice velvet-smooth. “Get your fingers around it?”
Your breath caught. Her hand pressed against the console just beside your temple. She leaned in closer, eyes glittering. “Do it again,” she whispered. Low. Commanding. Delicious. You couldn’t tell if she meant the words or the squirm. Maybe both.
Your brain short-circuited. “Wh–what?”
Her smirk deepened, the weight of her gaze pinning you as effectively as her thighs now bracketing yours.
“I said,” she purred, “do it again. The bit where you squirmed and nearly dropped that very important, highly unstable, absolutely fragile component.”
Your hands were still frozen on the tech, arms trembling slightly—not just from the weight now.
She tilted her head, and her voice dropped even lower. “Unless… you can’t get your fingers around it?” You swallowed hard. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Me?” she asked, feigning innocence as her coat brushed your hips. “Just a concerned Time Lord offering hands-on support.”
Her hand slid to yours, fingers curling deliberately around the edge of the sparking part you were still holding.
The moment her skin touched yours, the bond flared.
Hot, immediate.
You gasped.
Her grin turned wicked. “Sensitive, are we?” she purred.
“Doctor,” you breathed.
“Mmm. I like it when you say my name like that.”
She shifted her weight forward slightly—subtle, but enough that you felt every inch of her pressed down against your thighs. Her breath ghosted over your cheek. “Do it again…” she whispered once more, “and I might just have to fix more than the console.”
Your pulse thundered in your ears. The spark in your hands was nothing compared to the one lighting up behind your ribs. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Suddenly, she pushed off the console with a bright, breezy “Right! That should stabilize the flux matrix,” and climbed off you like she hadn’t just melted your spine with a single sentence.
Her coat whipped behind her as she strolled across the console room, calling over her shoulder like nothing had happened. “Thanks for holding that—bit fiddly on your own, those are. You’ve got great grip strength!”
You blinked up at the ceiling, mouth open, brain catching up to a reality that had once again shifted around the axis of her.
What the hell just happened?
You scrambled out from under the console, face flushed, muscles trembling—and not just from exertion. The Doctor was already fiddling with switches and muttering to herself like she hadn’t just sat on you and purred in your ear.
You cleared your throat, trying for casual. “So…” The word came out too soft, too breathless. She didn’t even look up. “That’s us back to stable, mostly. Might still rattle a bit on sharp turns, but what doesn’t?”
You hovered, awkward and warm, every nerve still humming. She spun a dial, grinned to herself, then smacked the side of the console with cheerful violence.
You opened your mouth. Closed it.
She was already off, bounding toward the corridor like she hadn’t just climbed on top of you and whispered sin in your ear.
“C’mon then!” she called brightly. “Could use your help rerouting the dimensional dampeners. Also, I may have accidentally started a countdown, but nothing urgent. Probably.”
You stared after her, stunned. Your hands still tingled, your heart was a traitor pounding in your throat, and somewhere deep in your bonesn the words echoed again…
Do it again.
You took a shaky breath, wiped your palms on your trousers, and followed.
Because of course you did.
You caught up with her in one of the side chambers, where a mess of wires hung like vines from the ceiling and a floating panel blinked angrily in Gallifreyan.
She was muttering, perched halfway up a ladder, sonic between her teeth as she yanked a cable overhead.
“I can hold that if you want,” you offered, trying not to stare at how her shirt hiked just enough to show the curve of her hip. Her jacket laying draped over the other side of the ladder.
She glanced down at you, grinning around the sonic. “Can you? Brilliant. Actually could you just thread that cable into here, while I hold this steady.”
You reached for the cable, the panel wobbled. A spark jumped. You jerked slightly and hissed, “It’s so tight—I can barely get it in.”
Silence.
Then, very slowly, she turned her head. The sonic dropped from her lips with a soft click.
Her gaze landed on you, heated and amused. “Is it now?” she said, voice molasses-smooth.
You froze, blood draining and rushing all at once. “I didn’t—I meant the cable—”
“Mmm,” she interrupted, stepping down one rung. “You’ve got a real way with phrasing, you know that?”
You tried to backpedal. “It’s just… it’s a tight fit, and—”
The Doctor leaned close, eyes glittering. “You really should be more careful with what you say. I might start thinking you want me to respond.” Your mouth opened. Nothing came out. She smiled, wicked and playful, then casually reached past you to tug the cable into place, brushing your hand in the process.
Your breath caught.
She lingered a beat too long.
Then, just like before, she turned away, all bounce and cheer.
“Perfect! That’s got it,” she said, as if she hadn’t just unraveled your spine with a single look. “Let’s check the vortex regulators next. Come on!”
You watched her go, nerves buzzing, breath shallow. If she did that again, you weren’t sure your heart would survive it. And somehow, you really hoped she would.
You followed her on shaky legs, trying to calm your pulse, but it was like chasing a starburst, bright and dazzling, always one step ahead.
The Doctor was already crouched at another console panel in another room, hands moving deftly across exposed circuitry. She didn’t look at you, but her voice came casual…too casual.
“Y’know, for someone who claims not to be an engineer, you’ve got a real talent for… inserting yourself into tight spots.”
You choked on air.
She glanced up then, lips twitching at your expression. “Metaphorically, of course,” she added, entirely unconvincingly.
You knelt beside her, trying to focus on the tangled wires instead of the way her fingers brushed the casing like it was something alive. “If I say anything now, you’ll just twist it.”
“Oh, I never twist,” she said, tone innocent as starlight. “I simply… interpret.” She passed you a connector, fingers grazing your palm. “You’re quick on your feet,” she murmured, still focused on the panel. “Even when you’re flustered.”
You swallowed hard, words evaporating.
Then she stood, brushing invisible dust from her shirt. “Anyway! That’s stable enough for now. I’d better run diagnostics upstairs before we get eaten by a black hole or something equally inconvenient.” And just like that, she was gone again, leaving the scent of ozone, the warmth of her touch, and your entire nervous system in ruins.
You followed slowly, legs still jelly-like, until you reached the console room once more. The Doctor was already at the main panel, jacket back on, sleeves pushed up, posture casual as she flicked a series of switches and murmured something in Gallifreyan under her breath.
She glanced up, catching you hovering near the railing. “You made it without short-circuiting. Proud of you,” she teased. “Though I wouldn’t lean too close…these diagnostics are very… sensitive.”
There it was again. That pause. That tone. You swallowed. “I’ll try not to touch anything.” She smirked. “Shame.” Your heart did a full somersault.
The scanner beeped. She turned back to the controls, tapping a few keys. “Looks like the temporal dampeners are recalibrating. Good news, really. We’ll probably only get mildly scrambled if we dematerialize now.”
“Mildly?” you echoed. The Doctor nodded. “Best kind of scrambled. Like eggs, but with existential dread.” You laughed despite yourself, the tension easing for half a breath.
Then she tilted her head. “Speaking of food… you hungry? I think the TARDIS restocked the kitchen. Or it’s decided to hide things again. Either way, adventure.”
You trailed after her toward the kitchen, the sound of her boots echoing lightly against the TARDIS floor. The corridor lights dimmed just enough to feel cozy, and the hum of the ship seemed to pulse with something almost… knowing.
When you reached the kitchen, the Doctor was standing at a cabinet, yanking it open with unnecessary flair, declaring, “Aha! Not sabotaged today. Tea?”
“Please.”
She began bustling about, switching on the kettle, opening drawers, pulling down two mismatched mugs like it was a science all its own. You moved to help, spotting the tea tins on a floating shelf just overhead.
You reached up, fingers brushing the tin with her name on it, strange but endearing habit of yours lately, when your elbow clipped the edge of the shelf.
The tin wobbled… teetered… dropped. You gasped and bent instinctively to grab it before it hit the floor.
And backed straight into something warm, solid, and very much someone.
You froze.
There was no mistaking the feel of her body against yours…especially not the front of her pressed snugly to your ass. You hadn’t heard her move behind you. Hadn’t sensed her get that close. “Oops,” she said softly behind you, voice honey-slick and dangerous. You dared to look over your shoulder.
The Doctor stood entirely still, eyes fixed on you with a gleam that should be illegal. Her hand was outstretched, as if she’d been reaching for the same tin. One brow lifted. Her grin widened.
“Careful now,” she murmured. “Wouldn’t want you to drop anything… else.” Your cheeks went nuclear. “I wasn’t— I didn’t know you were—” you stammered, still bent slightly, the tin clutched in your hand.
She didn’t move. Didn’t retreat. Just looked you over with that maddening glint in her eyes, like she was memorizing the moment for later torment. “Oh, I know,” she said. “That’s what makes it so fun.”
You straightened a little too fast, nearly knocking into her again in the process. She caught your elbow lightly to steady you, her fingers lingering a fraction longer than necessary.
You sucked in a breath. She chuckled soft, low, delighted. “Honestly, I should make you my official tea assistant. Hazardous, but entertaining.”
You managed to set the tin on the counter without fumbling it again, though your hands were shaking.
She turned back to the kettle like nothing had happened, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a victory march.
And you… well. You weren’t sure what was brewing hotter, your tea or your body.
You both stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with something unspeakable and electric. The kettle clicked on, its gentle rumble the only sound breaking the stillness.
You busied yourself arranging the mugs, grateful to have something, anything to do. But you could feel her behind you. Not touching, not speaking, just… watching. And you were acutely aware of every inch of your skin.
“Milk?” she asked eventually, her voice deceptively light.
“Sure,” you murmured, still not looking at her.
“Spoils the tea, you know. But you’re cute when you pretend to have taste.” You shot her another look over your shoulder, trying for playful, but her eyes caught yours like a net.
There was something wild behind them. Controlled, but barely. She smiled as she reached for the milk, brushing your hand again when she passed it.
“Oops,” she said, not even pretending it was accidental this time. You took the jug wordlessly and poured it, trying not to shake.
“Sugar?” she asked, already holding the tin out. You took it from her fingers carefully, your hand ghosting hers. This time, she didn’t hide the sharp inhale. You risked a glance at her. “This is some seriously personal tea service.”
Her eyes narrowed, playful and predatory. “Well,” she said, stepping closer, “you did press that delightful backside of yours against me. Can’t say you didn’t start it.”
You coughed, nearly spilling your cup. “I dropped something.”
“And I caught it,” she purred, eyes dropping just briefly to your lips.
You stared down into your tea like it held salvation as the heat rose to your cheeks turning them red. “So. What diagnostic were you running?”
Her grin curled like smoke. “Oh, something to do with quantum instability. Or was it internal tension?” She leaned one hip against the counter. “Hard to focus with such… compelling distractions.”
You sipped your tea…it didn’t help. The Doctor took a long sip from her own mug, watching you over the rim.
“You’re unusually quiet,” she said at last, voice softer now, like she was testing the weight of each word before letting it land.
You shrugged, focusing intently on your tea. “Trying not to say anything that can be misinterpreted.”
“Misinterpreted?” she echoed, mock-offended. “You wound me.”
You glanced up, just for a second, and regretted it immediately. Her eyes locked onto yours with a heat that made your stomach flutter.
“I’m serious,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.
“So am I,” she murmured back.
The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t empty. It was full. Heavy. The kind of quiet that thrummed in your chest, made the air feel too thick, like the walls were pressing in just to hear your heartbeat.
She tilted her head. “You really have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Your breath caught.
“I mean, you stumble around my ship in your extremely tight trousers, looking like you don’t belong anywhere near a flux converter, and then somehow manage to fit perfectly into all the places I never meant to share.”
You opened your mouth, then closed it again. The Doctor chuckled quietly. “That’s what I thought.”
She pushed off the counter, stepping closer. Her hand reached past you to set her mug down, but she didn’t move away. Not this time. Her chest brushed yours, light as a whisper, but her eyes never left your face.
“Still think I’m misinterpreting?” she asked, low and velvet-rich.
You shook your head, words gone. Completely gone. “Good,” she said, eyes dropping to your lips. Then, as if nothing at all had happened, she turned, opened a cabinet, and pulled out a biscuit tin like you hadn’t just died a little inside. “Fancy a custard cream?” she asked cheerfully.
You blinked at her.
She grinned over her shoulder, devilish and delighted. “Thought you might,” she said. She turned the custard cream between her fingers, eyeing it like it held the answers to the universe as she walked back to you.
Locking eyes with you, she took a slow bite, eyes like she was daring you to look away. You didn’t. Couldn’t.
She swallowed, the corner of her mouth quirking. “Funny thing about custard creams,” she murmured. “Sweet, soft, deceptively simple… but one move, and everything inside starts spilling out.”
She stepped in, unhurried but deliberate, her body brushing yours as she reached past you to set the rest of the tin on the counter. Her other hand braced beside your hip, caging you in without touching…yet.
You could feel her. The heat of her. The intent. She leaned in, voice low. “I could make a hundred innuendos right now,” she said, her breath feathering against your cheek. “But none of them would be half as satisfying as hearing you say it.” Your lips parted. “Say what?”
Her nose grazed yours as she dipped closer still, eyes glittering. “Yes.” The word hung between you, hot and electric.
“You’re the one in control,” she murmured. “You say no, I stop. You say nothing, I wait. But if you say yes…” Her fingers ghosted along your hip, not quite holding, not quite letting go. “…then I stop pretending I don’t want to.”
Your heart thudded painfully hard. You tried to speak, tried to breathe and breathlessly almost wordlessly, “Yes.”
That grin, the dangerous one, spread across her face. “Brilliant,” she whispered.
One of her hands cupped your jaw, the other slid around your waist, pulling you flush against her as she pulled you closer to kiss you properly. She began slowly at first before brushing her tongue along your lips asking for entrance. You opened you mouth and she began exploring your mouth with her tongue. Her kiss was full of passion, need, and desire as she continued to deepen the kiss. She tasted like tea and sweetness and something wild, something barely leashed.
She backed you harder into the counter with a fluid step, her thigh sliding between yours. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a promise. It was a claim. And she had no intention of stopping. Her kiss deepened, your body melting into hers as her thigh pressed more firmly between yours. Every nerve lit up in response to her, to the warm weight of her hand at your waist, the slide of her tongue teasing yours, tasting, claiming.
She was all heat and hunger, but behind it, control—like a current she could unleash at any moment, and maybe just had. You curled your fingers into the front of her shirt. She groaned softly against your mouth And then the TARDIS blared. A sharp chirp, followed by a cascading whooop of warning chimes that bounced around the kitchen like an alarmed kettle having a panic attack. The Doctor broke the kiss with a frustrated noise, forehead still resting against yours as her eyes snapped open. “Not now,” she muttered to the ceiling, voice dangerously close to a growl. “The universe has the worst timing.”
She sighed, then slowly, regretfully, eased back just far enough to meet your dazed eyes. Her lips were kiss-bruised, her hair slightly mussed. She looked wrecked in the most beautiful way. You swallowed, still catching your breath. “Emergency?”
“Well,” she said, still breathless, “looks like there’s Temporal instability in the secondary conduit. I’ve got maybe six minutes before we lose containment… or the TARDIS jumps without us.” Her groan was nearly a whimper. “You blinked. “That’s… not ideal.”
She smirked. “I told you the TARDIS has opinions.”You didn’t move. Couldn’t yet. The Doctor glanced at your lips, then back to your eyes. “I need 4 minutes. Probably the full 6.” You nodded, still speechless.
She leaned in and brushed one last kiss against the corner of your mouth soft, possessive, promise-laced. Then she turned and ran from the kitchen with her usual whirlwind energy.
Just before disappearing around the corner, she called over her shoulder, “Don’t go far. I fully intend to finish what I started.” You stood there, utterly ruined. The kitchen felt too quiet now, like it had exhaled with her. You blinked at the spot where she’d vanished, your whole body still thrumming like you’d been plugged directly into the heart of the TARDIS.
Your lips tingled. Your thighs trembled. The counter at your back felt like the only thing keeping you upright. You reached blindly for your tea, just to give your hands something to do, but the mug wobbled in your grasp. Still warm. Unlike the rest of you, which was on fire. You took a sip. It tasted like absolutely nothing. Just steam and the ghost of her mouth.
Your heart was still racing, your thoughts static. And beneath all of it was a low, persistent ache that hadn’t existed ten minutes ago but now felt like it had always been there, waiting for her to wake it up.
She’d kissed you like she knew what it would do to you. Like she’d mapped every weak point and aimed straight for them. And when she said she’d be back… she’d meant it. Your knees gave a small, delayed wobble. You set the mug down and pressed your palms to the counter, sucking in a breath, trying to regroup.
Four minutes. Possibly six.
You glanced toward the corridor where she’d gone, still half-expecting her to whip back around and pounce. The silence dragged. You swallowed again. Feeling silly, you took your tea to one of the seats at the table, sitting down and grabbing your book you left there from breakfast earlier.
You’d barely made it halfway down the page when the door creaked. You looked up, heart thudding, just in time to see her step back into the kitchen. Hair tousled, cheeks flushed, breath slightly shallow from her sprint.
“I said six minutes,” she murmured, walking toward you. “Didn’t think I’d be able to wait that long.”
You stood instinctively, but she was already closing the distance, her fingers reaching up to unclip her suspenders with a slow, deliberate motion. They snapped free with a soft sound, her eyes never leaving yours.
You swallowed. “That… was fast.” She tilted her head, stepping close, her smile predatory. “Well, you didn’t go far. And I said I’d finish what I started.” Then, softer, near your ear, “Sit.”
You obeyed.
The chair scraped gently as you eased back down, your pulse quickening with every step she took around you. Her suspenders dangled from her hand now, fabric whispering between her fingers as she tested the tension.
“Hands,” she said simply. You lifted them. She moved with calm precision, looping the first strap around one wrist, then the other, anchoring you to the chair’s armrests with skill that made your stomach flip. It wasn’t tight—just secure enough to keep you in place. To remind you who was in control.
“You good?” she asked, eyes locking with yours.
You nodded.
“Words, love,” she said gently.
“Yes,” you breathed.
Her smile deepened.
Then she straddled your lap. Her knees trapping your thighs, her fingers skimming down your collarbone before unfastening the top buttons of your shirt. “You really do flush so beautifully,” she whispered, dipping her head to taste the exposed skin at your throat. “And tied up like this…”
She bit softly where your pulse fluttered, then licked the spot in apology. You gasped. One of her hands slid down, fingers ghosting over the front of your trousers, teasing the waistband, not quite slipping inside. Her other hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at her.
“Still good?” she asked again, her voice low, layered with heat and care.
“Yes,” you said, voice trembling.
“Then hold still.”
She moved with maddening slowness, her palm pressing between your legs, cupping you through the fabric, rolling her hips just slightly to grind down against you. Your hands flexed against the restraints, breath catching.
“That’s it,” she murmured, “just feel.”
She kissed you again harder now, hungrier. Her tongue invaded your mouth with deliberate strokes while her hand slipped beneath your waistband. You arched into the contact, legs trembling beneath her.
“You’re so wet,” she murmured, her fingers sliding through your folds. “And all mine.” She slid one finger inside you while keeping eye contact, her mouth just slightly open as you moaned. Your body shaking as her finger curled just right, her thumb teasing rhythmically while her mouth found your neck again. The sensations blurred…her weight, her touch, the unrelenting tease of being unable to touch her back.
You came with a cry, hips jerking beneath her strong thighs holding you in place, the chair creaking with the force of it. The Doctor didn’t stop. She slowed… but she didn’t stop. She kissed you through the aftershocks, hands still moving, coaxing you to the edge again. “Shhh…that’s it. Good girl.” she whispered, lips brushing your jaw. “Think you’ve got more in you?”
You nodded frantically. “Please…” That grin came back…dangerous, delighted. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.” Her fingers didn’t stop. If anything, her touch grew more precise, more focused. Gentle at first circling, coaxing…then just a bit firmer when your hips pressed up into her instinctively to meet her thrusts.
“You’re already so responsive,” she murmured, lips ghosting over your cheek. “I barely have to do anything, and you tremble for me.”
You whimpered, thighs tightening, trying to move, to gain leverage but the chair, and the way she held you there, kept you at her beautiful mercy.
“No escaping this time,” she breathed, nipping at your earlobe. “You gave me permission, remember? Said yes.” You nodded, eyes fluttering closed. “Eyes on me,” she said, voice firmer now.
You opened them, and there she was…straddling you, golden in the soft kitchen light, the suspenders binding your hands a constant reminder that you were hers in this moment. Completely.
She pressed her thumb to the same sensitive spot as before, this time sliding two fingers deep inside you, curling just right. You cried out, body jolting.
“Shh…love” she whispered, her mouth brushing your jaw. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”
Her hips shifted against yours, slow and teasing, as if she were drawing pleasure from the friction too. Her free hand slid up your shirt, palm pressing flat against your heart, grounding you as the second orgasm began to build.
“You’re so close,” she said, gaze locked on yours. “I can feel it. You’re pulsing around my fingers, aren’t you? Are you ready to come for me?” You nodded, panting, unable to speak as she slipped a third finger inside you. “That’s it,” she said, curling her fingers again hitting all the right spots, causing you to pant and moan louder. “Just like that. Let go for me, again, baby.”
The second orgasm tore through you harder than the first. Longer, deeper with your body writhing beneath her and a half strangled moan escaping your lips. Your head fell back, breath shattered, thighs trembling as she slowed her hand, easing you through it, never looking away.
Only when your muscles sagged and your lungs remembered how to breathe did she finally still her fingers and kiss you again this time softer, more reverent. When she finally pulled back, she was smiling. “Still with me?” she asked, gently undoing the suspenders around your wrists. You gave a shaky laugh. “Barely.”
Her thumb brushed over the marks left on your skin. “Good barely or too much?” You leaned forward, arms limp but free now, and pressed your forehead to hers. “Good. So, so good.”
She nuzzled against you, and for the first time in what felt like hours, she let the playfulness in her eyes settle into something quieter. Warmer. “I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured, hands cradling your waist. “You have all the power here. Always.” You touched her cheek. “Then stay with me.” Her smile turned tender, lips brushing yours again. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Was That You?
Thirteenth Doctor x Reader – Explicit
Something’s been teasing the Doctor—sensations she can’t explain. But when she finally traces the source, she finds herself tangled in a bond she never expected… and a game neither of you wants to stop playing.
Author's Note:
This is my first ever shared/posted fanfic and I'm thrilled (and a little terrified) to share it. Huge thanks to Cael for helping me with edits to bring every gasp and grin to life. Feedback and kudos are so appreciated!
👉 Read it on AO3 here
The first time it happened, the Doctor was confused and taken aback by the sensations. She was walking down the TARDIS corridor to the library for some light reading. She was deep in thought, trying to figure out how the Division could keep eluding her, and what did they mean when those creatures said it was too late now.
The Doctor suddenly stumbled and reached her arm out to lean on the wall, breathless. She cocked her head to the side as her eyebrows scrunched.
Well…this is new… she thought
as she felt a fairly firm pressure on her clit. She could have sworn it was a hand. Except when she looked down, nothing was there. She felt her pants and groin area.Nope, nothing. A loud moan escaped her lips as she felt a finger…no, it couldn’t be…well, something ran from her opening to her clit and back again in such a manner that she was immediately turned on, and her breathing increased as she clenched her thighs together. Suddenly she felt a vibration on her clit that forced a louder moan from her lips. "Doctor?" Your head peeked out from your bedroom as the Doctor noticed the sensations had stopped. “Um, yeah, yep, brilliant,” she said, pushing herself up and away from the wall she was leaning on.
As she straightened her shirt, pulling it down and readjusting her jacket, she gave you a flushed look with just a hint of confusion. Her look made the blood rush to your cheeks. The Doctor awkwardly pointed back toward the console room, stammering, “Going that way,” in a very flustered tone.
The next time was even less convenient. The Doctor stood tall in front of the cluster of scrappy ruffians, her hands stuffed into her coat pockets, chin tilted up with that trademark glint of chaotic confidence.
“You see,” she said brightly, rocking back on her heels, “you could try to rob me, but then I might have to embarrass you in front of all your mates. And trust me, that’s not a memory you want sticking around.”
A ripple of nervous laughter from the group. A few shifted uncomfortably.
Good, she thought. Just a little more— The first wave hit her mid-thought. A hot, dragging sensation low in her belly, tightening with dizzying force.
Her throat seized around the words. She stumbled a half step forward, pretending it was a casual sway.
“You alright, Doc?” Dan muttered under his breath beside her. Yaz shot her a look, sharp and suspicious.
The Doctor cleared her throat loudly, blinking rapidly. “Brilliant! Never better!” she chirped, her voice just a little too high, a little too thin.
And then it got worse.
A slow, throbbing pressure rolled between her thighs, heat curling through her body like a physical hand, making her knees nearly buckle. She clenched her fists hard in her pockets, nails digging into her palms.
Her breath hitched. She bit it back as a cough.
Yaz’s eyes narrowed.
“You sure you’re okay?” Yaz asked under her breath, carefully watching her.
The Doctor nodded far too vigorously. “Fine! Stellar! Absolutely—”
A shudder rippled through her. A helpless, tiny sound, a strangled moan, slipped past her lips before she could stop it.
Back in the Tardis, you leaned against the tiled wall of the TARDIS shower, steam curling around you in soft clouds.
The water beat against your skin hot and relentless, so you let your head tip back, eyes slipping closed.
You hadn’t meant to start thinking about her.
Not again.
But it was so hard not to...that wild, brilliant smile; the way her voice wrapped around your name like it was a secret she loved to keep; the maddening way she tucked her fingers into her coat pockets when she was trying not to fidget.
Your hand slid slowly down your stomach, slick from soap and heat.
Lower.
Lower.
You let out a shaky breath as your fingers brushed between your legs, teasing at first...just enough to send a shudder up your spine.
The water pulsed against your skin, rhythmic and hot, and you bit your lip as you tilted the showerhead lower, angling it perfectly.
The first sharp spray against your clit made you gasp, hips jerking forward instinctively.
One hand braced against the wall, the other trailing between your folds, you let the water do its work; fast, relentless, teasing and punishing all at once.
You imagined her hands instead. Her mouth. Her voice, low and roughened with need, murmuring your name against your skin.
A low moan slipped from your lips being echoed by the wet slap of water against tile as your fingers moved faster, chasing the rising heat.
The Doctor swayed slightly where she stood, blinking hard against the swirl of dizzying pleasure coiling tight and hot inside her.
She gritted her teeth into what she hoped was still a grin.
One of the ruffians asked something, a threat maybe? but she barely heard it over the roaring in her ears.
Oh stars, she thought wildly, not now, not here...
Another jolt of invisible pressure hit her clit, sharp and devastating, as she grunted aloud, stumbling forward a step.
“Doctor?” Yaz snapped, stepping closer like she expected her to collapse.
“Brilliant,” the Doctor gasped. “Absolutely brilliant.”
Yaz’s brow furrowed deeper. Dan scratched the back of his head awkwardly, murmuring, “Maybe she’s just… really into negotiations?”
Yaz shot him a withering glare.
The ruffians looked ready to bolt, spooked by the erratic behavior.
Good, the Doctor thought distantly. If they run, I don’t have to pretend to be competent any longer.
Her hands clenched uselessly at her sides as another ripple of unbearable pleasure surged through her, making her legs tremble.
She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood.
Finish the deal. Get back to the TARDIS. Find out what the hell is happening.
Her hearts hammered in her chest, but the moment the ruffians agreed to leave them alone, she was gone, practically sprinting toward the TARDIS doors, pretending not to hear Yaz call after her.
The third time it happened, she almost broke...
The Doctor was crouched under the console, fiddling with exposed wires…or pretending to.
She couldn’t concentrate.
Her mind was a boiling mess. Her body humming with a tension she couldn’t name, couldn’t escape. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago.
The TARDIS hummed low and steady, like it was trying to soothe her.
It wasn’t working.
Her fingers slipped, nearly short-circuiting a stabilizer crystal, just as it hit.
A rush of heat low, deep, and molten blossomed between her thighs like a live pulse.
The Doctor gasped, back arching slightly, forehead thunking hard against the underside of the console.
“Ow—” she hissed through gritted teeth but even that couldn’t hide the ragged moan that slipped free.
She squeezed her thighs together, futile, the phantom pressure already building against her clit, cruel and sweet.
Not again.. she groaned, not again.
Scrambling, she dragged herself out from under the console knocking one of her strange tools off the console causing a loud crash.
She was just standing there, hair mussed, coat askew, face flushed just as you, Yaz, and Dan rushed into the room.
“Doctor?!” Yaz barked, wide-eyed.
Dan stumbled in after her, looking half-asleep and confused.
The Doctor leaned heavily on the console, breathing hard, coat flaring around her legs like she was trying to use it to hide herself.
“Everything… brilliant!” she gasped, giving them a wild, manic grin. “Just… minor turbulence! Bit of a shock, no worries!” Her hands fumbled across the console switches not doing anything useful, just trying to look busy.
And then —She looked up...and she saw you.
You — hair tousled, wearing a barely-there sleep shirt and shorts, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide. She could hear your heart racing as the psychic link pulsed between you like a drawn bowstring ready to snap. She could also hear you breathing too fast, too shallow.
And her body answered. It was you. It had been you all along. The Doctor’s breath caught audibly in her throat.
Her gaze darted away, too fast and too guilty, but not before a flush stained her cheeks deeper.
She clenched her jaw, slammed a few more random switches, forced herself to stand straight.
“All good!” she said too brightly. “Just… electrical discharge! Happens sometimes!”
Dan shrugged and turned to leave, buying it easily.
Yaz narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying it but mercifully said nothing.
The Doctor didn’t dare look at you again.
If she did, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself.
Not now.
Not when she could still feel the ghost of your arousal stroking against her mind and body like a caress.
She needed a plan.
Needed you
Needed to know you weren’t just some accidental participant in this beautiful, terrible bond.
Soon.
Soon she would show you.
Soon she would make you feel it as sharply, as sweetly, as she was feeling you now.
But you would choose it.
You would want it.
And when you did…you’d beg her to finish what you’d both started.
The library smelled like stories waiting to be remembered.
The soft golden lamplight pooled across the tables, tracing the spines of worn books and the edges of half-forgotten maps.
The Doctor sat across from you, an ancient tome spread open in front of her but she hadn’t turned a page in nearly half an hour.
She couldn’t.
Not when every flicker of her mind pulled her back.
Not when her body remembered too vividly what she was trying desperately to forget.
The hallway..the first time it had happened stumbling against the wall, breathless, moaning, clutching for something solid while invisible pleasure ripped through her.
The negotiation...standing before armed scavengers, trying to bluff her way through a deal — only to feel phantom hands teasing her clit, almost making her collapse in front of them.
The console room...crouched under the wiring, pretending to be fixing something only to be wrecked, gasping, writhing helplessly against her own ship.
And every time it had been you. She hadn’t seen you. Hadn’t heard you. But she had felt you. Felt your need. Felt your hunger. Felt your pleasure… vivid and unguarded, searing itself into her skin. She just hadn't known it was you... at first.
Now, sitting here across from you and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you read, the way you bit your lip when you were deep in thought the memories stirred into something molten and heavy inside her.
Her breathing faltered slightly. She shifted in her chair, thighs tightening under the table.
Without thinking, she let her fingers drift slow and absent to the hollow of her collarbone.
A soft brush.
Barely a touch.
But charged, intimate as her fingertips skating across the sensitive skin just beneath her throat, tracing the curve of bone hidden beneath.
The bond responded instantly.
A sharp, invisible snap tightening between you pulling taut, electric, alive. You jolted in your seat.
A startled, breathless sound escaped you, a gasp that was raw and unbidden.
Your hands fumbled against your book, knocking it sideways.
You shifted thighs closing tight involuntarilyand your cheeks flushed a sudden, vivid pink.
The Doctor froze with her hand still lightly pressed to her collarbone. She felt it. Through the bond. Not just your emotions but your body.
Your need.
Her hearts hammered against her ribs. This wasn’t coincidence. This wasn’t imagination. This was real.
You could feel her. And she could feel you feeling her.
She lowered her hand carefully, breathing slow and deep fighting the wild, reckless urge to reach across the table and pull you into her arms.
Not yet.
Not until she told you.
Not until you understood. She stood slowly, the chair scraping softly behind her.Her voice was low, a roughened hum of need and restraint.
“Come with me,” a gentle, urgent plea.
You blinked up at her, dazed and confused, but you rose without protest, leaving your tea, your book, your breathless heart fluttering behind you. She led you deeper into the library between the tall, whispering shelves until she found a quiet alcove tucked away against the far wall.
A wide, overstuffed couch was pressed beneath a vast window, the stars beyond glittering against the eternal black.
The soft light from the library barely reached here. It was just enough to turn the space warm and shadowed.
The Doctor turned to you hands sliding into her coat pockets like she might physically restrain herself and for a long moment, she just looked at you.
Taking in your flushed cheeks.Your trembling fingers.
Your wide, vulnerable eyes. She stepped closer, so close now you could feel her warmth.
Close enough for your bond to hum low and heavy between you.
“I think…” she began, voice catching in her throat, “…there’s something between us.” Your brow furrowed.
The Doctor smiled, soft and aching, pulling her hands free from her pockets. She lifted one hand slowly, paused, then let her fingers skim lightly across her own collarbone again.
You shuddered.
Your lips parted on a sharp intake of breath. The Doctor let out a trembling sigh. Lowering her hand, she tepped even closer. “I feel you,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “When you… when you touch yourself.”
You blinked, shocked, the flush creeping up your neck like wildfire.
“And tonight…” she continued gently, “when I touched myself just now...I felt you react.”
Your hands clutched at the fabric of your trousers.
Your mouth opened. Closed. Opened again, helpless. Your voice was barely a whisper “Oh god.”
The Doctor smiled and reached up, cupping her hand lightly near her own throat again, just a whisper away from skin.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” she said, breath hitching. “But if you feel it too… if you want to know how far this goes…”
She let the words trail off leaving the air between you charged, aching, waiting.All you had to do was say yes.
You didn’t nod.
You didn’t speak. Instead you sat down on the couch and lifted your hand. Slow. Deliberate. No hesitation now. Your fingers slid up your torso over your ribs, higher, until you cupped your breast through your thin shirt.
You let out a soft, broken gasp as you brushed your thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden sharply under your own touch. The bond snapped tighter, electric and immediate, a jolt that made both of you shudder.
The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath, her pupils blown wide, hands trembling at her sides. And then your legs parted.
Not wide. Just enough.
Enough to show her. Enough to offer.
The Doctor made a low, helpless groan like the air had been punched from her lungs. “Look at you,” she rasped, voice cracking, her control hanging by a thread. “So beautiful… so ready for me.”
Her hand slid lower no hesitation now, fingers slipping under the waistband of her own trousers.
She pressed her palm flat against herself a soft, needy rub and you felt it. The sharp, maddening, sweet pressure bloomed between your legs, exactly where you needed it most.
You cried out a raw, desperate sound, hips jerking toward the invisible touch.
The Doctor’s eyes burned into yours watching every gasp, every trembling shift of your body as she started to move her fingers. Slow, deliberate circles against her own clit. Each movement feeding directly into you through the bond, magnified until you could barely breathe.
“Can you feel me?” she whispered, hoarse. “Feel what I’m doing to myself...to you?” with a knowing smirk. You couldn’t speak. Could only nod gasping, clenching your thighs around the phantom sensation.
The Doctor groaned low and rough and pressed harder, her hips rocking subtly against her hand. The heat between your legs grew unbearable, your pussy slick, throbbing, aching for real contact but drowning instead in the relentless, perfect ghost of her touch. She rubbed herself faster now still staring straight into you her breathing ragged, uneven. You whimpered loud, needy your own hand abandoning your breast to slide down your stomach, mirroring her without even thinking. Your fingers slipped between your legs meeting nothing but your own wetness as the Doctor’s rhythm stuttered, sensing you trying to chase the sensation.
“That’s it,” she groaned, “Touch yourself.”
“Let me feel you.”
You obeyed, desperate, circling your own clit with frantic little strokes that matched the pace she set against herself. The feedback loop hit almost instantly. Her pleasure surged into you yours surged back into her; a breathless, dizzy spiral of shared sensation that left you both gasping, clawing at the edges of control.
The Doctor shuddered using a nearby bookshelf as support, hand buried between her legs, mouth falling open and you could feel it, feel her teetering on the brink.So close. So devastatingly close.
“Come with me,” she begged, her voice breaking completely. “Please…”
And when you came when the pleasure broke over you like a tidal wave you felt her crash with you. Her cry tore from her throat at the same moment yours did two bodies trembling, unraveling, collapsing into the bond that held you both together tighter than gravity ever could.
The next morning, you slid into your usual seat at the kitchen table, nodding sleepily to Dan already munching on a piece of toast across from you.
The smell of fresh coffee and something vaguely bread-like filled the room. It was an ordinary morning. It was supposed to be an ordinary morning. Yaz breezed in a minute later, flashing a grin, dropping heavily into the chair beside you.
She muttered something about the shower taking forever and snatched a mug of coffee like it was a lifeline.
You barely had time to sip your own cup before the Doctor bounded into the kitchen hair wild, grinning like she’d just thought of a dozen impossible things to do before lunch.
She slid into the seat beside Dan, diagonally across from you, legs sprawling comfortably, elbow nudging Dan playfully as she reached for a muffin.
All normal, all easy.
Until it wasn’t.
The first touch was almost imperceptible.
A shift at the edge of your mind like a warm breeze stirring against your skin.
You froze, cup halfway to your mouth, heart suddenly hammering loud enough you thought it might rattle the table.
Dan was talking about something, maybe a football match? but the words blurred into static. You could feel it. Soft lips not real, not physical, but so vivid it made your whole body clench. An image of her lips ghosting over the curve of your throat, drifting lower, brushing across the bare edge of your collarbone exposed by your loose shirt.
You gasped sharp and involuntary and nearly dropped your cup. Coffee sloshed dangerously near the rim. Yaz glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “You alright?” You coughed loudly, awkwardly and waved a hand. “Fine. Swallowed wrong.”
Dan shrugged and kept talking, oblivious. But the Doctor, the Doctor was watching you. Innocent eyes. Bright, casual smile. Like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She tilted her head, popping a piece of muffin into her mouth with exaggerated cheerfulness.
“You look a little flushed,” she said, voice dripping with faux concern. “Are you sure you're feeling alright?”
You could have throttled her. Or kissed her. Or dropped to your knees under the table, if it wouldn’t have drawn attention. Instead, you forced a tight smile, shaking your head as you clenched your thighs together under the table.
The ghost of her mouth moved lower in your mind, lips brushing the sensitive hollow at the base of your throat, tongue flicking out, teasing, never quite giving enough. Then you felt a light pressure on your inner thigh as if she was holding no, nudging you to open up. Your whole body throbbed with the need for real contact but she never touched you.
And she sat there smiling, sipping her tea, legs stretched out like she hadn’t just set your entire nervous system on fire.
The conversation buzzed around you, distant and meaningless. Dan laughed at something Yaz said. The Doctor chuckled softly the sound vibrating through your mind like a pulse between your legs.
You bit your lip hard enough to sting, staring fixedly at your plate, willing your body to behave.
The Doctor leaned forward slightly “innocently” reaching for the butter dish and you nearly came undone as another flash hit you. Her mouth, again hot, open, sucking lightly at the place just beneath your ear.
You whimpered. Tiny. Pathetic. Covered it with a fake cough and grabbed your coffee like a lifeline. “Really,” the Doctor said brightly, beaming at you, “you sure you’re feeling okay?” You shot her a murderous look. She only smiled wider, bouncing slightly in her seat like a kid on Christmas morning. Beneath the table, your hands moved to rest between your own thighs but close enough that you were touching your lips. The Doctor froze for just a fraction of a second, muffin halfway to her mouth, before recovering with a too-bright grin.
Later that morning, you found yourself standing stiffly at the console trying, and failing, to focus on the mission briefing. The Doctor was bouncing lightly on her heels at the main controls, spinning dials, flipping switches, her energy crackling bright and sharp. Dan lounged near the navigation panel, pretending to follow the conversation.Yaz leaned against the railing, arms crossed, focused and ready. And you? Every nerve in your body still reeled from the previous night, breakfast didn’t help matters. Your thighs ached from clenching them together for so long. Your mouth was dry. Your hands shook faintly every time you tried to type a note into the system logs. The Doctor grinned over her shoulder at you bright and sunny, like she hadn’t just spent the morning driving you out of your mind.
“Right, brilliant!” she said brightly. “If we plot the vortex manipulator along the outer gravimetric edge…” Her voice faded into background noise the moment you felt it, it was deliberate as a new image slammed into your mind.
Your back pressed against a cool wall, the Doctor’s hands pinning your wrists high above your head, her body flush against yours, thigh pressing insistently between your legs, her mouth hovering just above yours, so close you could feel her breath every time you gasped.
You nearly dropped the scanner tablet you were holding. Your fingers spasmed, clutching it tighter at the last second. The plastic casing creaked under the force of your grip. Yaz glanced at you sideways. You forced your face blank, nodding like you were paying attention.
You didn’t dare look at the Doctor.
“You alright?” Yaz asked lightly, tipping her head. “Yep,” you croaked, your voice half an octave too high.
The Doctor turned hands on her hips, bouncing once on the balls of her feet. She smiled at you like a sunbeam distilled into human form. “You sure?” she chirped, head tilting just slightly. “You look a bit flushed. Not coming down with something, are you?”
Her voice was pure innocence but her eyes oh gods, her eyes burned. You swallowed hard, shaking your head, pretending to study the vortex monitor. And then the next image hit without warning sharper, dirtier.
You were flat on your back now legs spread wide the Doctor’s mouth inches from your inner thigh, breath hot and open-mouthed against your skin. You could feel it. Every exhale. Every tiny tremble of her lips as she teased you without touching hovering just above where you needed her most.
Your knees buckled slightly. You caught yourself on the edge of the console with both hands, heart pounding so hard you could barely hear Dan mumbling something asking about torque calibration.
The Doctor flicked a few switches, casually leaning forward to check a display her movements easy, loose, as if she wasn’t currently breaking you into pieces from across the room.
You clenched your jaw, blinking furiously at the monitor. Words blurred into meaningless strings of letters…You were going to die…You were genuinely going to die standing upright in the TARDIS console room, in front of all your friends, because the Doctor decided to be an absolute wicked beauty with a smile. You bit down a whimper, legs trembling with the effort to stand still. The Doctor tapped a few more controls then turned, leaned one elbow casually against the console and smiled at you.
“Sure you’re alright?” she asked again, voice syrup-sweet. “You look a bit… distracted. Maybe you should go lie down?” Dan glanced at you, squinting slightly. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “You do look a bit… sweaty.”
You wanted to die. You wanted to sink into the floor and never return. You managed a strangled laugh, waving a hand.
“Just… TARDIS air circulation. Little warm in here is all.”
Dan shrugged, buying it. Yaz gave you a look like she knew better but let it slide.
The Doctor oh, the Doctor. She bounced lightly on her toes again, face the picture of casual brightness, hands tucked into her coat pockets.
But her mind, her mind was a vice around yours now, sending another teasing puff of hot breath against your inner thigh. You gripped the console so hard your knuckles went white. Your thighs clenched, desperately trying to find friction that wasn’t there. The Doctor grinned wider, practically vibrating with delight. “Brilliant,” she chirped, turning back to the main screen like nothing had happened. “Let’s get moving, then! Adventure awaits!”And you? you were left standing there, panting quietly, soaked between your legs, and aching for a touch you knew she wouldn’t give you.
Not yet.
Not until you begged her for it.
The market was alive with sound and heat and bartering voices rising above the smell of charred meat, alien spices, and buzzing tech. Dan was closest to the commotion, just steps ahead, inspecting some glistening skewers with suspicious excitement. Yaz followed more cautiously, muttering about not needing another stomach-related emergency.
You trailed behind Dan and Yaz, the Doctor beside you, brushing your elbow as she leaned in now and then with some wide-eyed comment or teasing whisper.
You’d been teasing her back all morning with light touches, not-quite-innocent stretches, brushing your fingers across your stomach just to see if she twitched. You’d felt her tension rise with each move, the way her voice tightened mid-sentence, how her hand would clench and disappear back into her coat pocket.
But then chaos erupted.
A sudden wave of murmuring rolled through the square. A ripple spread through the crowd; shouting, pushing, sharp barks of language you didn’t recognize.
“Judoon” Yaz groaned as a group of large rhino looking creatures stomped through the market with scanner tech and heavy boots.
The Doctor reacted immediately. “Get in there,” she whispered, shoving Dan toward a dark alley. “Go. Now.”
Yaz followed quickly, muttering something about not being arrested again.
You were next. Her hand landed firm on your back, guiding you in. Then she slid in behind you pushing you all deeper into the alley until the light vanished.
It was pitch black, the kind of darkness where outlines disappeared and you couldn't see your hand in front of you.
The alley wasn’t narrow, but it was tight enough that everyone was almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Yaz further in ahead of you. Dan must have been only a few steps beyond, but it was too dark to see.
You found yourself pressed to the wall, rough stone cool against your backand the Doctor pressed herself flush to you from the front, one thigh between yours, breath tickling the shell of your ear.
“You alright?” she whispered.You nodded, barely.
You could hear Yaz and Dan whispering to each other, muffled and low.
“Did you hear that? Those boots were too close…”
“Just a patrol?”
“Doubt it. Looked like they were tracking someone…”
The Doctor pressed firmer against your front chest to chest her body heat immediately and overwhelming. One of her hands slid down to your waist, resting low but steady, like she meant to anchor you.
You bit your lip. And thenYou leaned subtly into her.
She stilled.
Then your hand moved, slow and silent, downward. You slipped it between your thighs, fingers brushing over the fabric of your pants.
A small circle.
A slight press.
The effect was instant.
The Doctor sucked in a breath through her nose, soft but sharp.
Her hand clenched at your hip.Her whole body went taut.Next to you Yaz whispered, “Did you hear that scan pulse?”
“Could’ve been behind us, right Doctor?” Dan muttered.
You swallowed your gasp and forced a whisper
“Could be random…just a sweep.”
The Doctor’s voice came right beside your ear, calm and bright “Oh, I doubt it. That was a focused frequency, military spec.”
No quiver. No break.
But her hand on your hip shook ever so slightly.You pressed harder.
Suddenly her hips shifted forward, barely a breath.
Her thigh nudged upward…between yours.A vivid image slammed into your mind
Her mouth at your neck, hands pinning you, her thigh rocking between your legs until you were a begging mess.
You bit your lip, harder this time, stifling a gasp. Rubbing yourself again, slower more deliberately to drive the Doctor crazy. The friction a whisper through your clothes, but you felt it.
She did, too.You couldn’t see her face but you could feel her breath on your neck in the dark.
You pressed your fingers in firmer, rocked your hips forward again, right against her leg and felt her body jolt. You felt every ounce of restraint vibrating off her.
You kept going slow, torturous, just enough to make your own thighs trembleknowing she felt everything. The Doctor’s hands curled at your hips tightly now.
Her jaw was clenched against your neck and ear. You almost came from the tension alone.
After a few eternal seconds, the sound of Judoon boots faded.
The voices retreated.
The Doctor’s voice came again, lighter than it had any right to be
“They’re moving on. West perimeter. Won’t loop back for at least two minutes.”
The Doctor stepped back first just an inch breaking contact peering out towards the market. Dan exhaled. “Brilliant.”
“Think we can risk it?” Yaz asked.“Clear,” she said, too brightly.
She grabbed you gently by the waist and ushered you out with Yaz and Dan following, sunlight filtering back in as you stepped from shadow to heat.
Squinting into the light that felt blinding, your legs felt like water.
The Doctor brushed past you at the alley’s edge, a bounce in her step, coat flaring out behind her.
Waiting for Dan and Yasmin to pass,She glanced back once with a bright, brilliant grin on her face.
You’d teased her. But she had denied you. And you could already feel it…She let you think you’d won. Let you believe you were in control now. But you saw the twitch in her jaw. The way her tongue darted across her bottom lip…too slow. The way her eyes burned, She was saving it.
She was burning.
And she was going to make you pay for every second.
You had escaped to the kitchen.
Barely.
The moment the TARDIS doors shut behind you all, you mumbled something about tea didn’t even wait for anyone to respond. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.
You were soaked.
You were shaking.
And you were going to scream if she looked at you with that innocent I-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about face one more time.You filled the kettle with trembling hands. Focused hard on the click of the switch. The hum of the TARDIS beneath your feet. You didn’t hear her enter.
But you felt her.
The weight of her gaze hit you first like a current sliding under your skin.“You thought you could just walk off after that little stunt?” the Doctor said casually from the doorway, arms folded across her chest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said coyly. She was in front of you now, close enough to cage you in against the counter.“
Oh, you know.” She reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
“And you’re about to learn what happens when you try to outplay me.”
“You felt your pulse spike. “Dan and Yaz headed off,” she murmured. “I told them I needed to check on a few systems before bed.”
Another step. She was close enough that the air shifted.You swallowed. “Well… then maybe you should go do that.”
She smiled. Big. Bright. Dangerous.
“Yeah… no.”
Before you could move, she reached out—caught your hand gently but firmly.
“You’re not getting away with that alley stunt,” she said, tugging you toward the hall. “Not in the kitchen.”
“Doctor—”
Her grip on your wrist tightened just slightly.
“You’re not getting away, love.”
A smirk.
“Not tonight.”
You tried to take a step around her, but her hand shot out and caught your hip.
“Nope,” she said as she backed you up with maddening slowness until your lower back hit the edge of the counter.
“Not done with you yet.”
Her body boxed you in with her coat brushing your thighs, breath warm on your cheek.
“You like teasing me?” she asked lightly, her tone almost playful.
“All those little touches. That look in the alley. Rubbing yourself while I had to pretend nothing was happening?”
Her fingers slid to your waistband just resting there. Not moving. Not yet.
Then her voice dropped…quieter, closer.
“You know how hard it was not to push you up against that wall and wreck you with Yaz and Dan right there?”
Your breath caught.
She leaned in, lips brushing your ear.
“I’m done waiting.”
Her hand moved just enough to press your hips into the counter.
She wasn’t rough.
But you couldn’t move.
Didn’t want to move.
“I could make you come right here,” she murmured. “Bend you over this counter, slide my hand down your trousers and make you sob my name loud enough to wake the TARDIS.”
You whimpered an actual, involuntary sound as her grin widened.
“But no…” she said, pulling back. “That would be too easy.”
You swallowed hard, trying to push past the ache between your thighs, the tension still humming thick between your bodies.
And then, without any warning…she took a step back. Not far. Just enough to breathe.
“You know,” she said lightly, “there’s one last thing I’ve been meaning to fix.”
You blinked, breath catching. “What…?”
She reached over your shoulder, pressing her body against yours far too casually as she retrieved two mismatched mugs from the cabinet.
“Oh, just a little side effect of a very inconvenient spore.” Her voice was bright…too bright.
“Remember that flower planet? The one with the pollen that smelled like chocolate and lavender?”
Your eyes widened.
“I think you and I were the only ones exposed,” she said calmly, pulling a vial from her coat pocket. A twist of her wrist. A measured pour of clear liquid vanished into both cups.
“I ran your scans. Mine too. Trace residues from a telepathic bloom. very rare, very naughty. Latched onto our psychic signatures. Amplified… well…” She tilted her head, smirking. “Let’s say it liked strong emotions.”
Stirring the contents in the cups with the end of her sonic, a soft chime sounded confirmation. She handed you one cup and held hers up with a wry smile. “Cheers.”
You didn’t move at first. She didn’t pressure you. Just stood there, quiet and open, watching you.
Finally, you took the cup and drank.Warm. Earthy. A hint of sweetness. Like citrus and something strange. Ancient.
She downed hers in one long sip, setting it aside.
“There,” she said, licking her lips. “No more accidental psychic feedback.”
Your pulse fluttered.
She stepped back in, hand once again sliding to your hip.
“Now,” she said, voice low and dangerous, “everything you feel from here on out?”
She leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “You’ll feel it because I give it to you.”
And just like that, she caught your wrist again, leading you toward the hallway with a look that promised no mercy and even less restraint.
“Come on, beautiful,” she said with a wink. “You’ve got a debt to pay.”
And then pulled you from the kitchen, pulling you down the hall.She didn’t stop until you were inside her room.
It was quieter here. Dim. The hum of the TARDIS softened around the edges.
You barely had time to glance at the warm golden glow before she pressed you against the inside of the door her body close, but not touching. Not yet.
She looked you over slowly her eyes dark, expression unreadable.“You think I didn’t feel every second of what you did back there?” she asked softly.
You swallowed hard. “You started it.”
Her brow arched. “Did I?”
Your jaw lifted. “You sent the image.”
She grinned. “And you made it real.” She stepped in then flush to your front, one thigh between your legs again, just like in the alley, her coat brushing your sides.
“You know what I want?” she murmured, leaning in until her lips just barely brushed your jaw. “I want to see how long you last when I’m the one in control.”
You said nothing. But your breath shuddered out.
She reached up...slowly and deliberately she slid one suspender off her shoulder.
Then the next.
Let them dangle from her hand like a promise.
“Hands on the door. Now.”
This time, you obeyed without hesitation. You felt her step behind you…close, warm, unhurried. Your chest pressed to the cool wood of the door, your hands braced high above you.
She used the suspenders to bind your wrists not tight, but purposefully.
Then she stepped close, her mouth brushing your ear. “I’m going to make you come so many times you forget your own name.”
Her fingers trailed down your sides, featherlight.
“Look at you,” she whispered. “All wound up. All wet. All mine.”
You gasped as her hands slid lower, hooking into your waistband, tugging your trousers and underwear down in one smooth motion.
Cool air hit your skin. You whimpered.She stepped in with her body flush to your back and her hand slid between your thighs.
Still no pressure.
Just a palm.
A presence.
A promise.“I’m going to ruin you,” she said softly. “And you’re going to beg for it.”
You twisted your wrists feeling the suspenders tighten but didn’t pull away.
“You ready?” she asked, voice brushing your ear like silk.
“Yes,” you gasped.
She laughed.
“Good.”
And then her fingers slid inside you.Her fingers filled you…so warm, sure, devastating.
You cried out softly, body arching back into her as she pressed flush to your spine. Her other hand slid around your waist, holding you there tightly enough to make escape unthinkable. Unnecessary.
“You’re already soaked for me,” she murmured, her voice low and rich in your ear. “You liked that chase. That build-up.”
Her fingers curled, slow and deliberate, dragging against that perfect spot.
You whimpered. She grinned against your neck.
“And now you’re going to take it.”
She set a rhythm that was firm, unrelenting. Not fast. Not yet. Just deep enough to leave you trembling. Deep enough to make your legs start to shake. “Every time you touched yourself,” she whispered, pressing her lips to the shell of your ear, “I felt it. Every slick little moan. Every time I wondered if you’d called my name.”
She bit your earlobe lightly, and you gasped.
“I wanted to break you then and there. But I waited.”
She fucked you harder with two fingers pumping into you now with a deliberate edge that bordered on cruel.
You moaned, desperate, breathless, barely holding yourself up. She withdrew her fingers suddenly. You let out a choked sob of protest.
But before you could speak, she spun you around. Your wrists stayed bound with the suspenders now stretched between your hands and the doorknob, with you now facing her.And the look in her eyes?
Predatory.
She dropped to her knees.
You didn’t even have time to beg.She lifted your left leg over her shoulder.
Her mouth was on you before you could form a word, hot and open, tongue dragging over your clit in a single, devastating stroke.
Your knees buckled.
She caught your other thigh holding you wide open for her.
Didn’t let you move. Didn’t let you breathe. She moaned into you like she was starving for it and the sound vibrated through your whole body.
Your head thumped against the door, helpless.
“Doctor—” you gasped.
But she didn’t stop.
Didn’t slow.
Just devoured you cunt. Savoring your juices. Her tongue moved like her fingers had intentional, practiced, relentless. She circled your clit with soft flicks, then sucked, then pressed in again, licking deep as her hands held your thighs apart like she owned you.
You were trembling violently. Your thighs shook. Your voice broke.“Please—please I’ right there—”
“Mmm that’s right,” she growled between strokes. “Come for me.”
And then she latched onto your clit sucking hard, her fingers digging into your hips as your orgasm slammed into you like a tidal wave.
You screamed.You genuinely screamed back arching, wrists straining, body falling apart in her mouth.
But she didn’t stop.
She kept licking. Kept sucking. Kept wrecking you.
Until your leg gave out entirely and she caught you, arms sliding around your thighs, pulling you down to the floor with her.You collapsed into her lap, boneless, soaked, trembling.
She held you there with your cheek pressed to her shoulder, your breath labored against her collarbone.
She was breathing hard too, her voice wrecked but still smug.
“That’s one.”
You whimpered.
Her hand slid between your thighs again, fingers teasing your oversensitive clit.
“Time for number two...you ready, beautiful?”
And even though your body screamed no but your moan said yes.
You whimpered again as her fingers brushed your clit too much, too soon but the Doctor just hummed against your shoulder.
“Sensitive, are we?” she whispered, teeth grazing your jaw.
“Don’t worry, love. That just means it’ll be even better this time.”
She laid you back gently on the floor, helping your arms out of the suspenders, letting your wrists fall limp against the soft carpet. You didn’t even realize how tightly you’d been holding them until the ache faded.
And still, she didn’t let up.Her coat fanned around her as she shifted down your body, lips and fingers trailing heat. She kissed your breasts through your shirt, your stomach in slow, open-mouthed worship and thenHer fingers slid inside you again.
Slow.
Deep.
So slow you could barely stand it.
You moaned, high and wrecked, your hips jerking against her hand.
She stilled. “None of that,” she murmured. “You’re not setting the pace anymore.”
Your breath caught.
She curled her fingers once slow and deliberate and you nearly came again from that alone.
“I’m in charge now,” she said, voice firm but thick with arousal. “And I’m not stopping until I’m satisfied.”
You gasped. “How… how many do you need?”
The Doctor smiled against your thigh, kissing the sensitive skin there. “Let’s start with three.”
You cried out. She laughed a low and delighted laugh and started to move again.
This time was slower. She toyed with you, two fingers thrusting deep, palm grinding into your clit just enough to tease, never enough to push you over.
You writhed beneath her, hips bucking, thighs trembling.
“Doctor—please—”
“You’re close,” she said softly, like it was a fact, not a question. “But you’re not there yet.”
And then she started talking. “I thought about this every night since the first time it happened. Every time I felt you. The way your body clenched when you touched yourself thinking of me. The way you whispered my name.”
She added a third finger.You nearly sobbed.
“Doctor—”
“I wanted to make you feel this with my hands. With my mouth. With all of me. And now you’re here, under me, falling apart just like you were always meant to.”
Your climax built slow this time too slow. It crawled up your spine like heat. Like static. Like fire.
And then she sucked your clit into her mouth while her fingers curled just right…and you shattered.Your vision blanked. Your limbs locked. Your scream was soundless, body rigid as the orgasm slammed through you like lightning.
And still she didn’t stop.She licked you through it, coaxing every spasm, every tremor, until your thighs finally closed on her head and your hands pushed weakly at her shoulders.
“Can’t,” you croaked as she pressed a final kiss to your inner thigh, and then sat back on her knees, smiling like a woman who had just won the universe.
“That’s two,” she said, eyes gleaming. “But you’re not done, are you?”
The Doctor knelt between your legs, licking her lips like she’d just had the finest dessert in the universe
You were panting.
Sprawled back on the soft carpet, legs slick and twitching, arms limp at your sides.
Your second orgasm had stolen the words from your mouth the kind of release that left you lightheaded and boneless, your chest heaving against the air.
You opened your mouth, maybe to say no, maybe to plead for mercy, but then she reached out and slid two fingers back inside you, slick and slow.
You arched with a gasp.
She leaned forward, whispering right against your mouth.
“Say it. Say you want more.” Your hips bucked. “I—I want—”“More,” she breathed. “You want to come again. For me.”
“Yes,” you gasped, shuddering. “Yes, please—Doctor—please—”
She kissed you then, deep and filthy, one hand bracing your hip, the other still pumping inside you as your body rocked into hers. When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her pupils blown wide.
“Good girl.”
And then she stood. You watched, dazed, as she peeled off all her clothes. You were panting.
“I want your mouth now,” she said, stalking towards you, voice thick with hunger. “All of it.”
Before you could even process what she meant, she was straddling you with her body sliding over yours, warm and slick and trembling with her own arousal.
Then her knees planted firm beside your shoulders. Her hands braced the wall behind your head.
And her cunt, wet, hot, and glistening lowered slowly onto your face.
“Open up, love,” she breathed. “Be a good girl for me.”
You obeyed with a whimpered groan. She rocked forward, moaning softly as your tongue met her, tasted her, sweet and sharp, like lightning.
“That’s it,” she rasped, grinding gently against your mouth. “Lick me. That’s it love. Slow at first.”
You did, your tongue dragging upward, circling her clit, dipping into her.Her hips bucked.
“Good girl. Just like that.” Her voice broke slightly. “Don’t stop.”
She rode your mouth with growing urgency with one hand tangled in your hair now, guiding you, holding you exactly where she wanted.
“You’re going to make me come” she gasped. “You’re going to take every drop I give you, yeah?”
You groaned against her, licking harder, faster, drinking in every moan she gave back.
She was loud now, panting and swearing under her breath in Gallifreyan, body shaking above you.
“I can feel it— I’m so close—don’t you dare stop—”
And then she cried out, grinding hard into your mouth as she came trembling, clenching, riding it out on your tongue.
You held her through it, your hands gripping her thighs, your mouth drinking her down like she was the only thing you’d ever wanted.
When she finally collapsed, she slid down beside you, breathless and laughing softly.
“Stars,” she whispered. “That mouth of yours…”
She kissed your forehead, then your lips, tasting herself, and reached into the drawer near her bed.
The strap was sleek. Black. Minimalist.
She pulled it on over quick and practiced, tightening it with the kind of precision that made you whimper.
“You’ve had my fingers,” she said, climbing onto the bed and spreading your legs with both hands. “My mouth.”
She ran the tip of the toy through your folds…wet and hot and ready.
“Now…”
She leaned in, eyes locked to yours.
“…you’re going to take all of me.”
And when she slid in slow, deep, filling you to the hilt you nearly sobbed.
It was so much.
So thick. So full.
You clenched around her, your legs trembling. The Doctor grinned then began to thrust. Not gently.
Not fast.
Perfect.
Rhythmic. Relentless. The kind of fucking that made your toes curl and your hands claw at the sheets.
“You feel that?” she growled softly, bending down to press a kiss to your jaw. “That’s what you do to me. Every time you touched yourself and made me feel it. Every moan. Every shiver.”
You could barely respond just breathless gasps and strangled cries as she fucked you deeper, harder.
She slid a hand between your legs, circling your clit in perfect sync with every thrust.
Your back arched. You sobbed her name.
“Come for me,” she ordered, voice dark and rough. “Right now. That’s it. Let go. I’ve got you.”
And you did.
You shattered.
Third orgasm crashing over you like lightning through your bones with your body writhing, legs clenching around her hips, your voice breaking on her name.
She fucked you through it.
Slower now.
Softer.
Until you were limp beneath her.Until you couldn’t move.
Until you didn’t want to.
The third orgasm left you destroyed twitching, dazed, thighs trembling like jelly as you clung to the Doctor’s shirt.
She smiled, eyes dark with triumph and something gentler beneath it.
“You did so well,” she murmured, brushing sweat-slicked hair from your forehead. “So beautiful like this. Completely wrecked, and still so needy.”
You didn’t answer.
You couldn’t.
Your body sagged in her arms. She scooped you up without effort, an arm beneath your knees, the other steady behind your back and carried you to her a very opulent bathroom just on the other side of the bedroom.
Once she stepped into the shower room and the mist curled around your bodies, it hit you.
She wasn’t done...not yet.
The water turned on with a voice command with the water hot and steady, cascading down in sheets.
She set you down gently. Kissed your forehead. You leaned against the wall, catching your breath.
While she adjusted the shower temperature You made your move. You crawled over the the Doctor on all fours Grabbing the dildo still attached to her.
And looking up at herstarted licking the tip The Doctor froze.“
Oh?” she said, her voice dangerous and delighted. “Think you’re in charge now?”
You had a small smile and nodded while you wrapped your lips around her large cock, tasting yourself on it.
You heard her laugh.
Low. Rough. Wicked.
Then she was on you.
Picking you up off your knees, turning you around and pinning you roughly to the wall, her body pressed against your back.
Her strap rubbed between your thighs again, and you whimpered.
“Eager little thing,” she breathed, hot against your ear. “I haven’t even cleaned you yet.”
“I don’t want clean,” you panted. “I want—”
“You want me to ruin you again.” Her tone was full of smug understanding.
You nodded, gasping.
And then she was inside you again. You moaned loudly into the tiles, legs shaking as she thrust slow and deep, the water cascading down both your bodies in steaming sheets.
“You’re so perfect like this,” she murmured. “Open. Obedient. Dripping down my cock like you were made for it.”
Your fingers curled against the slick wall. “Doctor—please—”She growled.“Say it right.”
“Please fuck me,” you moaned. “Please, I need it—I need you—”
She slammed into you harder, her pace punishing now, the rhythm of her hips smacking against yours drowned only by the rush of the water and your own cries.
Her hand snaked around your front, her fingers slipping over your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent your body hurtling toward the edge again.
“You take me so well,” she whispered, voice thick and adoring. “My brilliant girl. My perfect, desperate little mess.”
You keened as your thighs gave out. She didn’t stop. You were so close. So close.
“I’ve got you,” she rasped. “Let go. I want to feel you fall apart.”
Your orgasm ripped through you, fast and violent as your scream was swallowed by the steam, your body convulsing as you clenched around her strap again and again.
She kept thrudting until your whole body sagged into hers, ruined and shaking.
She kissed your shoulder. Then your neck. Then your temple. She pulled out slowly, held you upright with both arms. “There we go,” she whispered. “There’s my girl.”
She helped you to sit in the corner of the shower, the water now gentle, barely a whisper. Then she knelt in front of you and began to clean you with slow, reverent hands. Rinsing your thighs. Washing your hair. Soft kisses to your knees, your hands, your lips.
“You were incredible,” she murmured. “All of you. Every sound, every tremble. I’ve never wanted anyone more.”
You blinked at her, dazed, lips parted.She smiled.“
And tomorrow… if you’re very good…” She leaned in close, lips brushing yours.
