Matt Smith might be known for being a goofy Doctor, but never forget his dark side. He does it so very very well and it is always there.
When I was a child, my favourite story was about a man who lived forever, but his eyes were heavy with the weight of all he‘d seen
//Awwhh thank you, lovely!! That’s super sweet of youuu <3
-Vapid hues watched the woman before him carefully, responding promptly and without hesitation- I am the Interfector. What do you want.
"It’s been an honour to play this part, to follow the legacy of brilliant actors, and helm the TARDIS for a spell with ‘the ginger, the nose and the impossible one’. But when ya gotta go, ya gotta go and Trenzalore calls. Thank you guys. Matt."
Those are nothing more than ridiculous film props for those who do not know the true value of a simple knife and gun.
The Interfector was no stranger to acting the part of a welcoming and friendly man. After all, he had played such a part for centuries. He was not out of practice. And what better place to prove so than in an Earth pub. The woman that sided up next to him would be perfect. What better way to have some fun than to deceive, control, and manipulate to get just what he wanted?
"It certainly doesn’t sound fine to me,” the Interfector began with a half smile, chancing a sidelong glance at the blonde. “Awfully rude of him to leave behind a beautiful woman such as yourself. I’d say he lost a good chance.”
"Fuck," the Doctor hissed, knowing now that he could not struggle or risk losing a part of him that was integral to his obsessions. He also didn’t fancy having to regenerate from such an incident. Despite his quiet hatred of this other Doctor who had altered his name, he had to admit that he was good at what he was doing.
The Doctor gasped unwittingly at the touch to his sensitive skin, feeling his cock throb its betrayal. Too much stronger than his desire to complain was his increasing want to achieve release.
"Not a pet," he chanced to murmur, "but you do have me contained." He let slip a small moan, his chains rattling with the shiver that wracked his body.
Every sound of pleasure emanating from this Doctor under his control fell upon pleased and expectant ears, the very moan proving to be a catalyst. The Interfector’s movements became much more focused and deliberate, fingertips gliding mercilessly along the warm, growing flesh of the other man’s sex.
"What else is a pet but a contained plaything," the Interfector inquired rhetorically, giving a particularly rough squeeze about his hardening shaft. "I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be begging for the privilege to be my pet.”
Growing frustrated with the Doctor’s restrictive trousers, the Interfector was swift in unbuttoning and sliding them down along with his undergarment. Now freed, the Interfector resumed his rough handling of the Doctor’s cock, thumb intermittently pressing in against the underside of the swelling head in combination with pumping strokes.