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“Nope, sorry Yaz,” the Doctor muttered as she once again pretended to busy herself at the TARDIS console. “Can’t right now,” she added, so matter-of-factly, so dismissively. So fake.
Yaz felt like she was gonna explode. Too many times now. Enough. Enough of this fucking shit.
Two months now, since “I’m gonna tell you everything.” Yaz had believed her. Had had so much foolish hope that finally, after all this time, the Time Lord would open up to her, let her in on her emotions, into her hearts. But no. Nothing. Always just having her tag along from adventure to adventure, never ever telling her anything, but always keeping her by her side, and for what?
“Stop,” she snapped. “You’re gonna give me some answers now.”
If she thought that would get the Doctor’s full attention, she was sorely mistaken. Yes, the blonde looked up. But half-heartedly. The look in her eyes already betraying that she wanted this conversation to be done before it could start.
“What on earth are you talking about, Yaz?”
“I need to know the honest truth. What exactly do you want from me?” she asked. “Because I’m feeling really, really fucking confused.”
She took a deep breath, tried to calm down, failed, continued to speak anyways.
“You always want me to be by your side, always need me around, but whenever I try to connect with you emotionally, you push me away, yell something like ‘you don’t understand anything’, and expect me to be fine with it. Well, I’m not.” She breathed heavily.
“I’ve tried so many times now. Please just let me in. And take me to that bloody beach like you always keep promising. And if you can’t, if you don’t want to, then just take me home, and we never have to see each other again.”
Yaz’s ears were ringing at the gravity of her own words. All the pain from the past two months was coming out now.
The Doctor walked away from the console. For a horrible second Yaz thought she was just gonna leave her standing there. But she only walked a couple of paces before turning around, exasperation etched into her face.
“Why do you want me to let you in, to open up to you? Why the fuck do you care so much about my life, my feelings?”
Yaz felt a sharp pain in her head. How the fuck did the Doctor not understand this, when it was so, so simple?
“Because I fucking love you,” she yelled. “You bloody know I do.”
The Doctor looked away.
“Do you know how much it fucking hurts?” Yaz continued, seething now. “To love someone whose actions never ever match their words? Who promises so many things and always ends up stopping right short? Do you have any idea what that’s doing to me? You’re always giving me just enough to keep me wondering, but never enough to make me happy, and it’s fucking killing me. And what? You don’t want to reject me, don’t want me to leave, because despite not loving me back, you enjoy having me in your life and want to keep me around like some pet?”
A tiny light, an echo inside Yaz’s heart was rebelling against her anger. Telling her how completely unfair and immature she was being. That the Doctor didn’t owe her anything. That she did want to open up to her, to keep all of her promises, but that it was difficult for her for reasons Yaz didn’t know, shouldn’t need to know in order to accept and respect. That the Doctor did love her. And that it was probably hurting the Doctor like hell to see her like this.
Her rage pushed all that aside.
“And sometimes,” Yaz ranted, “there’s a part of my brain, a vile, disgusting part of my brain that I loathe, that asks, ‘Does she get off on this? Does the Doctor get some weird fucked up pleasure out of having me in that emotional stranglehold, knowing that she just needs to lift a finger for me to do anything for her, like some puppy rushing to its owner’s heel?’”
Yaz was seething with anger so intense that it seemed to fill the air around her like a dark red cloud, and she’d stepped forward and enveloped the Doctor within it.
“Well? Do you?” she spat.
Their faces were so close to each other now. The Doctor’s lips were tightly shut, and she stared Yaz in the eyes with such intensity that it took all of Yaz’s willpower, all her fucked up spite and rage to not avert her gaze. She stood her ground. She wouldn’t let the Doctor win.
And then the Doctor’s lips parted. A raspy whisper escaped. So intense, yet so calm.
“Get on your fucking knees.”
Time felt frozen for a second as they stared into each other’s eyes. And then, with a sickening clank, Yaz’s knees collided with the hard metal floor, sending a sharp pain reverberating through her whole body.
She was at eye level with the Doctor’s crotch, where her dark blue culottes were tented by something hard, something that was gently twitching. And at the tip, the tiniest bit of precum was visible through her trousers as a little patch of wetness.
A single finger lifted her chin up, and she looked up at the Doctor, towering over her, looking down into her eyes with so much power.
“Yeah,” she said, raising a cocky eyebrow. “And what if I do get off on it. What are you gonna do about it?”
She let go of her chin, and Yaz eyes snapped back down to look at the Doctor’s bulge.
She knew exactly what she was gonna do about it. She would suck her off, so good and so long, until the Doctor was reduced to a pathetic whimpering mess.
No time for courtesies or foreplay. She unbuttoned and unzipped the Doctor’s culottes and yanked them down, and her boxers right with them. Her cock sprung up as it got free of the waistbands.
It was thick. Veiny but smooth. Almost a little too big. And already shiny and wet at the tip that was still half covered by foreskin.
Yaz wiggled forward a bit on her knees to get a better angle, took a deep breath, and then, looking up at the Doctor, unceremoniously placed a hand on her warm, hard cock. She pulled the foreskin back, exposing the shiny wet tip completely. And took the tip in her mouth. Immediately upon contact, the Doctor’s cock started throbbing, twitching, growing even harder and larger right there on her tongue. And the guttural grunt the Doctor let out - Yaz was never gonna forget it.
She realised how much power she had over the Time Lord in that moment. And how furious that was making the Doctor. She relished in it. Gave the tiniest flick of her tongue, swiping over the tip of her cock, and observed her reaction. How her eyes screwed up in pleasure, her face grew scarlet.
She pulled back with a loud smacking sound.
“Funny,” she said, licking her lips, “how you always give me the cold shoulder, pretend to be unbothered by me. But your cock betrays you.”
“Yeah well,” the Doctor muttered, trying way too hard to keep her voice calm. “Let’s see what you got first.”
The fucking disrespect of that remark. There were many, many ways Yaz could’ve retorted. But she had a better idea.
She placed her hands on the Doctor’s hips, and pulled herself in. Taking her cock into her mouth. Deeper than before. Feeling it throb. Swirled her tongue around it. Kept going, more and more, getting into a rhythm. Faster. Deeper. The sounds of wetness interspersed by the Doctor’s more and more high-pitched moans. And another sound joined the cacophony: Yaz’s soft moans, that reverberated on the Doctor’s cock, made it vibrate in her mouth.
She kept going. Until –
“Yaz,” the Doctor moaned. So needy.
And just then, Yaz pulled back.
The confused, pleading look on the Time Lord’s face almost made Yaz burst out laughing.
“Yaz,” she moaned again. “Please, I’m so close.”
Yaz raised an eyebrow. “Want me to do that again?” she asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah,” the Doctor said, her voice high-pitched. So hungry for more. Her cock was still throbbing.
“Beg me.”
“What?”
“I said,” Yaz whispered menacingly, “fucking beg me.”
The Doctor seemed to be fighting with herself. But just for a second.
“Fuck me Yaz,” the Doctor pleaded. “I want it. I need it. Please.”
Yaz raised an eyebrow. “Not good enough.”
“I need you,” the Doctor continued. “Need to feel you fuck me with your mouth. Need you.”
That was more like it.
“Good,” Yaz said. “But we’ll do it differently this time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Put your hands in my hair,” Yaz ordered. “Both of them.”
The Doctor nodded, and wordlessly complied, her hands on the back of Yaz’s head.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“I think you know,” Yaz said. “Since you seem so insistent on ruining my life, go on then.” Her voice was growing louder again. “Go rough on me. Fuck me up. What are you waiting for- ”
Not much, it seemed. Yaz hadn’t even closed her mouth as the Doctor pushed her dick back inside, and Yaz opened wider to take it in. The Doctor’s strong hands pulled her in, then relaxed to let her pull back, and she thrusted her hips in accord, as the pair of them entered an erratic rhythm. Yaz gagging, sputtering, the Doctor groaning. Yaz closed her eyes and focused on the sensation in her mouth, her tongue working overtime lapping and swirling and trying to find space in her mouth that was filled up so well by the Doctor’s thick cock.
The Doctor pulled her in hard, her cock hitting the back of her mouth. Yaz gagged, but didn’t pull back; instead pressed herself forward, took the Doctor’s cock down her throat, deeper and deeper, until her eyes started getting teary. Like she was trying to prove some sort of point. Like they were engaged in some sort of argument, where whoever yelled louder, whoever fucked better, was the winner.
The Doctor’s moans got louder and louder, more like feral screams now, completely letting go of any sort of decency and letting herself be absorbed in this moment. Yaz could feel it coming. Tapped the Doctor’s thigh, who immediately released her grip.
She sputtered as she pulled back, then took the Doctor’s dick in her hand, started pumping it, hard, looked up into her reddened face.
“Come on then,” Yaz said heatedly. “Go for it. All over my face. I know you want it.”
She let the Doctor take over. Closed her eyes. Heard her moans of pleasure turn into soft whimpers. Felt a trickling on her face like rain.
*****
And as she opened her eyes back up, the Doctor was sinking down to her knees in front of her. Suddenly they were at eye level again, and the blonde looked her up and down, with an expression of… of what? Heartache? It was such a sudden and complete shift from before, and Yaz felt herself at a complete loss.
Absentmindedly the Doctor started tracing her fingers through Yaz’s hair, over her face, collecting stray bits of her own cum, and licking it off her fingertips.
“Did that…” the Doctor suddenly stammered. “Did that make you happy?”
Yaz was completely perplexed.
“What?”
“You said that you felt hurt. That I wasn’t giving you enough to make you happy.”
“Doctor, I…” Yaz swallowed. “I’m really sorry. I snapped at you. Everything I said there, I…”
“Don’t be sorry,” the Doctor interrupted. “I… I figured that maybe, sexual intimacy was something that you wanted from me, that you were missing. And that was something I could give to you easily, wanted to give to you. Was that good?”
“Doctor I…” Yaz felt like crying. “Yes. Yes, it felt good. I liked it. But please don’t ever feel like you need to do something like that to make me happy. I’m sorry about what I said, I - “
“Of course, Yaz, I know that. And I didn’t feel pressured. It’s just that with all the other stuff you said, opening up to you, letting you in… All of that is a lot more difficult for me to give to you.”
“No, of course,” Yaz whispered. “I understand that.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” the Doctor said, her voice breaking. “I do want to. I want to tell you everything. I just need time.”
“I’m so sorry,” Yaz said. “For being so impatient with you. For being frustrated with you and blaming you. You deserve so much better from me.”
“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” the Doctor whispered. “And I’ll try my very best for you. Because I know how much you love me. And please believe me: I love you too.”