Doctor Who X reader Imagines, preferences and one-shots

Recovery (12)

"How is your hair so soft!" You beam, practically bombarding him with affection.

Earlier that day, you and the Doctor decided to have a fun adventurous experience with each other. You decided that you wanted to see an alien planet, and so the Doctor complied.

You were at a party, socializing with guests. Abruptly, the Doctor bursts through the main doors and sprints to you, pulling you by the wrist out of the room at a fast walk, as to avoid too much more attention being drawn to you. He pushes you quietly into a closet and explains.

"There are aliens." The Doctor mutters.

"Dangerous ones?" You ask quietly.

"Yes, potentially murderous... possibly psychopathic and heavily armed..." The Doctor murmured, so close you could hear the raspy panic in his dulled, quiet voice, of which was so close you could feel every vibration. You nearly shivered as he leaned closer to tell you the plan.

You thought it was stupid, trying to negotiate with the beast, you even tried to tell him it was a bad idea.

He didn't listen.

Almost instantaneously, the plan began. You confronted the disguised creature and asked if you could buy it a drink, to which it complies. You could tell it found you somewhat attractive, by the way, it would, similarly to an animal, allow its tongue to flop out of its mouth while it thinks you aren't looking. You roll your eyes occasionally and hold light conversation with it until it asks you to follow him.

You know he wants to kill you.

You follow him into an engine room, of which you press for as much information as you could.

"It doesn't have to end this way, I can help you." The Doctor is watching you closely, making sure that thing doesn't scratch his wife.

There will be hell to pay.

"My planet was destroyed, Doctor, the only joy I have is in destroying the innocent." The big wooden creature gurgled, swinging his weighted fist at you, hitting your stomach, sending you sprawling backwards; you scratch your arm on something sharp.

The Doctor looks at you, his warm-grey eyes nearly glued to your doubled-over figure, almost insistent on rushing over to you. You, unable to stand up, remain seated on the floor.

The Doctor fought the creature, yeah, that's right, fought. The funnier thing was he won. That creature injured you, but not as bad as it injured him. He had a huge, deep cut through his abdomen, and some less deep ones on his shoulder, chest and a small one on his left forehead.

You watch him limp over to you, his hands clutched around his middle. You quickly stand up, giving your strength to him, holding him up, placing a kiss on his right temple, as his entire body relies on yours. You take him to the TARDIS med-bay as fast as possible, careful not to hurt him further.

You lower the Doctor onto the med-bay bed, placing a kiss on his nose, before preparing to help as much as possible.

After a ton of emergency medical care, you bandage the doctors mid-section, before tending to his shoulder and head, which were a lot easier to deal with, finally followed by his chest, which you carefully tend to, because of its proximity to his hearts, of which you knew couldn't hurt him, but you always were more careful around them.

The Doctor would wake up to you tending to your own wound, but having a hard time because it is around your elbow.

"Love," His voice gutturally low,"Let me help."

Your eyes would light up at the sound of his voice, raspy or not. You'd nod, but first, help him sit up and hand him a glass of water. He would nod appreciatively.

Back to the present, you and the Doctor are recovering in the TARDIS library.

"Thank you, Y/N. You like my hair then?" The Doctor asks you.

"Of course," You raise your hands to his hair, carefully playing with it as the Doctor plays with yours, hands twirling and fiddling with your hair. The Doctor doesn't release your hair, so you just keep one hand in his fluffy, soft hair as your other hand slides to his cheek, caressing it as his hands move swiftly. *sorry if you don't have long enough hair*

"Sshh. Don't fuss, i'm only braiding/playing with your hair." He would lean into your touch, still focusing on you. When he was finished, the Doctor would lean into you, his head on your shoulder. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, holding him against you.

"You're comfy."The Doctor nestles into you, however careful not to hurt himself, or you.

The Doctor looks up at you, and you catch him staring at your lips, causing a light chuckle from you.

"You don't have to ask." Your place your hand on his cheek, making eye contact. The Doctor's grey, ancient eyes staring into you with a passionate and warm brilliance, taking in your appearance.

The Doctor, as if snapping out of his trance, leans in, closing in on your lips. As your lips caress, your bodies embrace, the Doctor's body leans you so you're lying down, propped up by the arm of the chair as he sits on your waist, holding you in a chaste kiss. As he pulled away, he pants lightly, unable to open his eyes.

"I'm so in love with you." He breathes shallowly, his voice hoarse as he slides off you as you stand up. Suddenly the TARDIS plays a song. You smile as the Doctor hides his face in his hands.

"Do you want to dance?" You ask, holding your hand out to him, him peeking between his fingers, you only getting a small smile and a stare from him. "Sweethearts?"

The Doctor realises he's staring, and mumbles an apology to you, taking your hand as you help him stand up. You place your hand on his back, holding him to you as you both quietly dance around the library quietly and cheerfully.

You both chuckle and smile as the TARDIS plays a different track, perfect for slow dancing. He would place both of his hands on your lower back, your arms over his shoulders, not touching his wound. You would calmly place your foreheads together, whispering sweet nothings to each other. The TARDIS would hum happily like a six-year-old with sugar.

As the Doctor calmly slow dances, you could tell he was getting drowsier, as his arms grip fell weaker around you.

"Doctor, let's get you to bed," You would hum next to him, your arms removing themselves from his shoulders.

"No, I'm perfectly a...wake..." The Doctor's head falls on your shoulder, nose pressed against your neck, his legs no longer moving. You stood there for a few more minutes, before moving him to the chair, sitting him so he is fairly upright. A blanket appears next to you, and you carefully place it over the Doctor and hold his hand comfortingly for a few seconds. While pulling it away, the Doctor's hand tightened around yours, ushering you to stay. You'd climb under the blanket and join him, wrapping your arm around him, smiling, allowing yourself to fall asleep.