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Summary:

There are things that are always particularly memorable when travelling with the Doctor.

Some more than others.

Notes:

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope we've all been doing well in the transition to 2024 :) Very keen to post my first story of the year!

Thank you to Katie (ThirdEyeBlue) for being my first-ever beta and giving me wonderful feedback for this piece, especially when NineRose isn't her usual ship <3

I hope you all enjoy this one!

Work Text:

The Doctor often found himself wandering the halls at night when sleep failed him or he didn’t need it. Sometimes the nightmares plagued him too much, or his brain was far too wired to shut down. Not even tinkering or reading or doing anything relatively productive could settle him, limiting the Time Lord to his far too quiet, hollow and empty mind that longed for the presence of another that hadn’t inhabited his body since he pressed the Button. So, to sate his endless energy and need to do something rather than lay in bed all night, he roamed his domain. 

However, since taking on a new companion, he had taken on an, admittedly, somewhat inappropriate habit — he tended to check in on Rose whilst she rested. 

From the moment he was blessed with Rose Tyler’s existence, a small pit of protectiveness and… fondness had been steadily growing. He hated to admit it, but when he saw her dressed up in that gown, a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time bled across his chest and filled him from head to toe in an instant burst. He had been so overwhelmed he couldn’t help but blurt out how beautiful he thought she looked before hastily transforming it into a backhanded compliment. He was just relieved she hadn’t seemed too hurt by it, amused more than anything by his antics and playfully jabbing back at him with his lack of appropriate attire. 

As his affection for this fantastic young girl developed, so did his gestures and desires, and visiting her at night was one of those things. It wasn’t even a conscious choice — his feet would start to wander and all of a sudden he was at her door. It was charged by a variety of motives — an irrational fear something had happened to her; wanting to gaze upon her softened face; not being entirely satisfied by their engagement from the previous hours and needing more. 

But more often than not it was reassurance. He needed to hear her quiet, slowed breaths, feel her soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips and watch her eyelids flicker and fidget whilst she dreamt. He needed to be reminded that all of this was, in fact, real and he hadn’t cooked this all up in the midst of his grief and pain of the War. 

Such a broken, lost soul like him needed that physical evidence that he was cared for by another; desired.

So, for the umpteenth time since Rose had joined him on board, his mind and body refused to rest, and thus his feet began to move on a mind of their own in a direct beeline to the mahogany door a few hallways away from his own room.

He was certain she would be asleep after having done this… well, dozens of times. They had had themselves a long, exhausting day of adventure. Plenty of running, bargaining and investigating. Fighting off guards and corrupt individuals. Going on wild goose chases following leads. Rose Tyler had to be knackered — she could barely keep her eyes open when they wandered back into the TARDIS a few hours prior.

The old girl, his co-conspirator, had informed him that she had showered and gone to bed a little while ago. He had spent some time tinkering mindlessly, ensuring that Rose would be in a deep enough sleep so she wouldn’t be disturbed by his, admittedly creepy, act of self-preservation. 

There were some things that she was better off not knowing about.

He reached her door easily and without thought, smiling at the small details that signalled it out as her room. The carved name and circular Gallifreyan were his touches — something taken from his mind by the TARDIS instinctively and incorporated the moment Rose became an official passenger — but the flowers and butterflies littering the surface and the crystals dangling from her doorknob were Rose’s additions. The former decorations weren’t childish or cheap Earth creations made of plastic — they were lifelike AI devices he had given her when she asked for things to make her room feel more homely. They looked, moved, felt, smelt and responded like real, living creatures. The wings fluttered and gravitated; the petals curled and morphed. The flora continued to grow like it had a mind of its own, but Rose could always alter it if she felt like it. When he wrapped his hand around the handle to open it, he found that a leafy vine had started to curl around it. 

He pushed open the door silently, not a sound being made. He had given Rose a rather generous room that was bigger than her flat back on Earth — practically the size of a studio apartment. She had her own walk-in closet, en suite, and plenty of bedroom space to hold as many items as she wished and do as many things as she liked. She had utilised it rather brilliantly, having asked the TARDIS to install a little sitting nook (which included both a spacious armchair and a hammock) and a modest vanity full of her favourite makeup, hair and beauty products. 

His complaining about domestics was just a farce, really — it made him indescribably happy to see how settled Rose was in the TARDIS, truly making it her home. 

The Doctor pushed past the transparent, baby-pink curtain attached to the coral struts that acted as an archway to Rose’s room, stepping into the dim lighting. There was a lamp on by her bedside, casting her bed in a warm, sort of gothic glow and leaving the rest of the space in mysterious shadows. And he paused right in his tracks as his eyes befell upon Rose in this dramatic set-up, feeling his respiratory bypass kick in without thought as his lungs ceased movement. It was as though a massive bucket of the iciest, shockingly cold water had been dunked on him; he had been stabbed in the most sensitive point of his spine.

Writhing on top of her sheets like a Greek goddess, face lightly flushed and sheened, plush lips pursed in a perfect ‘o’ shape, brow furrowed with what could only be described as pleasure, and back arched as her hips lifted from the bed, Rose had her hand stroking smoothly and carefully between her thighs in an undeniable side-to-side, at times circular rhythm. Her other hand was buried beneath her oversized t-shirt, fondling one of her breasts. The act drew the fabric up her torso scandalously, displaying her smooth, milky complexion for all the world to see. He could practically count her ribs and see her muscles contracting from his somewhat hidden spot. 

The Doctor’s fine-tuned hearing picked up perhaps the most erotic sounds of his long life — the wet, moist noises of her arousal glazing her fingertips, the quiet, sharp, laboured breathing, and her heart racing and pounding in her ears as she grew more and more amorous.

Doctor ,” she mewled softly in a honeyed tone that he had never heard before, and the Time Lord thought was about to regenerate right there and then. Her voice was so high, so breathy, so needy and all of the dirty fantasies he’d tucked away inside of his mind sprung to life. The steadily growing erection he hadn’t noticed was now at full stand, desperate to escape the confines of his trousers and pants. He bit back a curse at the sensitive flesh rubbing against cotton, his knees wobbling with restraint. “ Ah! Yes! ” she whimpered, and he watched in both horror and wonder as her body clenched, her thighs spreading further apart as she drove herself closer to the edge. 

All his mind could think about was how much he wanted to watch her fall apart before him, hear her calling out his name as she imagined him pleasing her in all the ways she wanted him to — ways he certainly would if given the opportunity. 

But he was so overwhelmed by it all that he couldn’t contain the choking sounds that leapt from his throat, and the gorgeous image before him disappeared in an instant. Rose gasped as she sat up, scrambling to cover up her scandalous image. She snatched her duvet hastily, throwing it over her lap and chest, a deer caught in headlights. She looked like a career-ruining front page photo; a swoony, virginal character from an old film. 

“Doctor, what are you doing?!” she shrieked in outrage, cheeks now flaming with ignominy rather than need. “ Get out! ” she demanded in a very mortified tone, shielding herself as much as she could.

“Rose, I—” he began as he stumbled forward, trying to compose himself. What the fuck was he meant to say?

“GO!” she commanded again, pointing at her open bedroom door.

How could he salvage this? He looked like an outright pervert; some disgusting, old man. She was going to make him take her home and he would be earning himself another nasty slap from Jackie Tyler once she told her mother what had happened. 

Quite honestly, he was convinced she was actually going to kill him this time.

“Y-You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he blurted out instinctively, stepping further into her room with more assurance and sturdiness. She continued to watch him from her horrified ball of sheets on the bed, wide-eyed and frozen. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, and the Doctor gauged that he actually might have a chance to fix this mess. “It’s… it’s alright, Rose,” he soothed, gaining the confidence to come closer to the bed. His palms were raised in a surrendering gesture, as though trying to calm a skittish horse. She didn’t dare to use a muscle as she kept her eye on him, riddled with tension and uncertainty.

“D-Doctor—”

“Shhh,” he urged softly, kneeling on the downy quality of her mattress. She looked absolutely petrified, but her eyes were still heavily dilated… and he could smell her arousal. It was driving him barmy as his focus unintentionally flickered to the glistening fingers that clutched onto her blanket tightly, wanting to know exactly what she tasted like and fighting the urge to wrap his tongue around those digits. He licked his lips nervously as he forced himself to look at her again, kneeling back on his haunches. “Really, Rose, it’s fine. I… I think about you too,” he confessed in a very soft, shy tone as well. His cheeks flamed brightly, burning so intensely and making him feel hot and bothered in a different way.

If possible, Rose’s eyes maximised in circumference further. Surprise mingled with the sheer humiliation that had been coursing through her in the last several minutes. The Doctor — the blunt, reserved individual she had come to know these last few months had just confessed that he touched himself to the thought of her. She really wasn’t quite sure what to do with this information, baffled and stumped. She had been certain that if the topic of sex — let alone masturbation — would ever come up between them, he would implode on the spot. The fact he was on her bed, vulnerable and open like this, was difficult for her to accept.

But the pulse in her chest and the tingling excitement prickling throughout her body told her that, subconsciously, she was very much a fan of this revelation. Her mind wavered for a second, conjuring images of this stunning man alone in his room, shed of his layers, taking himself into his fist and whispering, “ Rose ”...

She stopped herself — it was a dangerous line of thinking, and certain conversations needed to be made right now. The poor bloke was staring at her with the most petrified gaze she had ever seen, trying so hard to keep himself together as he attempted to make peace between them for intruding upon her privacy. 

Her newly acquired wank material could be utilised later

“Yeah?” she made herself ask, kneading the fabric she had between pinched her fingers as she rubbed her thighs together beneath the duvet. She couldn’t help herself, still riddled with randiness and hormones, and she had been so close when he disrupted her. And being blessed with some notable pieces of information, it made it all the more difficult to control herself. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, she decided. 

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She licked her own lips and the Doctor swore he felt both of his hearts skip a beat. “How long?”

He blew out a breath and glanced at the ceiling for a moment as a laugh escaped him. “Blimey, I’d say… for a few months now? Since Cardiff, at least,” he admitted. She sheepishly tucked some hair behind her ear, clearing her throat quietly. 

“Me too,” she whispered. He grinned, a quiet laugh falling from his lips. 

She couldn’t help but smile at their mutual admissions, mortification peeling away into… relief. This whole time she had been bearing her feelings for this man — this electrifying, terrifying yet amazing man — she had felt rather alone and ashamed about it all. He looked old enough to be her dad — that was one thing — but the other aspect that made her emotions so difficult to grapple with was the fact that no one else understood. He was an ancient being who had seen so many things, shown her the vast spectrum of the universe, and changed her entire outlook on life… This wasn’t the kind of bloke she could giggle about with her mates or take home to her mum.

Being in love with an alien, a living creature that contained more knowledge and experience than she could ever bear, and knowing that nothing could ever happen between them was both breathtaking and agonising. 

But as they sat in her room, gazing at each other with an unspoken connection thrumming through them and speaking about their concealed desires, a little bit of hope nestled within her. 

“Do… Do you think about me in any particular way?” he dared to ask, and the timid look in his eyes told Rose that he hadn’t expected himself to be bold enough to explore that topic of conversation. He averted his gaze, his blush intensifying as his words sunk into his conscience like cement. 

Blimey — it was one thing to disrupt someone’s private moments, but then to pry for details? What in Rassilon’s name did he think he was doing?

“Sometimes,” she answered after a second, not intending to make herself sound as… seductive as she ended up being. She chewed the inside of her mouth when his focus jumped back to her in an instant, shock and intrigue rushing through him. She knew she wasn’t imagining the way his chest was rising and falling a bit faster now, nor the way his fists balled against his thighs. His gaze was intense and firm on her, listening to every word that was emerging from her lips painstakingly and as though it was the most important thing he would ever hear in his life. She snuck a glance towards his crotch and felt her breath hitch at the undeniable bulge sitting between his thighs. 

He was getting turned on. 

She was turning him on.

“How?” When she met his eyes again, there was a glint present. A curious, inviting glint. 

But there was also an air of uncertainty around him, a sense of waiting brewing within. 

He was putting the ball in her park. He wanted her to choose where things were going to go tonight because no matter how much he wanted her, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel like she had to engage with him like this. 

And she knew what she wanted, even if it terrified her to take this step over the invisible boundary they had always kept between them. 

“Erm, well, just then I was… I was thinking about the way you were touching that alien instrument thingy… in Utah,” she confessed with a big, nervous gulp. She could see it so clearly and vividly in her mind’s eye, his rough fingers stroking the metal device so carefully yet so perfectly. As though he didn’t need to think about what he needed to do to make it come to life. Instinct and prowess channelling through his digits.

She could remember how her insides stirred and twisted when she had watched him, the breathlessness and light-headedness it had induced. How he had seduced her without intending to or even trying . Once the shock and distress of the Dalek encounter had properly worn off, she had made herself come three times that night to those memories and sensations.

The Doctor’s eyes lit up, knowing exactly what she was referring to. 

“‘ You just have to be delicate ’?” he murmured, and her somewhat sheepish nod made him smirk a little. He couldn’t help it — his ego had inflated by just a fraction. “Do you want me to touch you like that, Rose? Is that why you were thinking about that?” The directness and borderline filth that had emerged from the Doctor startled him, astounded by how naturally and freely the words left him. Just a sliver of validation from Rose and it was like a switch had been flicked in him — all the uncertainty was gone. He could feel his hearts racing and nervous system going wild with adrenaline, adjusting to this newfound intrepidness. 

She nodded again timidly, suddenly losing her voice and ability to speak. The way his eyes bored into hers and his growing bravado overwhelmed her and deprived her of control and coherence. She didn’t want to speak; want to think. She just wanted to feel and connect , forget everything as he gave her everything she had yearned for in the secrecy of her soul every time he was around her.

But of course he didn’t make it that easy for her. 

“I’ll need a ‘yes’, love,” he requested, raising his eyebrows. He wouldn’t touch her until he was absolutely certain that she wanted this from him. 

She breathed out a shaky sigh. “ Yes.

He couldn’t help but grin enthusiastically at her consent, and everything seemed to unfold so easily from there. Fear had evaporated from his bones and veins as he gripped the sheets, slowly pulling them away from her tight grasp as she gradually let go of them. They pooled to the floor, leaving her in just a t-shirt and sitting with her back against the headboard, knees tucked against her chest. She looked so small on that massive bed by herself.

He would have to change that, he mused. 

She watched in fascination as he reached down and yanked off his boots, letting them tumble to the floor in muted thumps. He then relieved himself of his leather jacket, leaving him so naked yet still so covered up in Rose’s eyes. 

He unhurriedly crawled up the length of the bed as she slid further down, eventually hovering above her as silence fell across the room. Rose could hear her blood rushing and heart pounding in her ears, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if the Doctor could have too. Their breathing mingled together and filled the air as he leant down, his lips ghosting hers. Her eyelids fell to half-mast, staring at his slim mouth and Roman nose, thinking about how utterly beautiful he was and finding herself being washed over with a sense of privilege. The light beside them penetrated his irises, turning his soft baby blue into a captivating aqua. 

As she analysed and categorised these features, he dipped his head and sealed his lips over hers in a gentle kiss. It wasn’t as fierce and passionate as she had expected it to be, especially not after his sultry words and behaviours, but she appreciated it nonetheless. One hand reached up and threaded her fingers through the short crop of hair on his head, scratching and teasing his scalp. It was much softer than it looked, ticklish and pleasing against her skin. He sighed into her mouth at her soothing touch, entwining his digits with her free hand where it rested beside her head. 

He savoured this — kissing Rose Tyler for the first time. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be one of those young, teenage humans who finally got to hold hands with their crush. Nine hundred years he had lived, but he had never felt more youthful and light than before this moment. He could practically feel all the pain and tension seeping from his bones to somewhere far, far away.

She had been curing him since day one, and this was the beginning of his final recovery.

He released her with a gentle click, and he couldn’t help but grin at her quiet noises of protest. He remedied the loss instantly with featherlight, nipping kisses starting at her jaw. She gasped and clenched as he trailed down her neck, counting the rapid heartbeat firing away in her veins and feeling how hot her body was becoming from arousal and excitement. The neckline of her t-shirt was somewhat wide, allowing him to explore her collarbones and some of her shoulders, but he wanted more .

He reached down and bundled the hem of her t-shirt in his hands, but he didn’t even need to ask to remove it when Rose started to shift, trying to help him get it off of her. Inch by inch, the smooth skin he had caught a glimpse of returned to his eyes, this time up close. He could see all her follicles and dusting of invisible hair underneath the lamp, spotting and memorising all the small details etched in her body. Every scar, freckle, mark and line was committed to memory as she became fully bare beneath him. Her breasts were modest in size, heaving with her anxious, anticipated breaths as she watched him in captivation.

“You’re gorgeous… Really — you are,” he professed, skimming his hands over her sides. She smiled self-consciously, and he sensed that she wasn’t used to this sort of attention; affection; sincerity. Mickey and the other bloke she’s always alluded to but never spoken about had probably never given her the love and praise she deserved. It was a knife twist in his gut as he wondered just how many times she’d waited eagerly for a compliment on her appearance, only to be ignored or given a half-hearted mumble. In his eyes, she was exquisite, more dazzling and outstanding than he could even comprehend. How couldn’t those naive boys see that themselves? They didn’t deserve her — not even a glance their way — and had abused this honour they had been so graciously gifted. Rose Tyler was meant for so much more than settling for second-best and the safe option, and the fact she had never been told just how much she was worth had made that impossible for her to see. 

Things needed to change — he would have to remind her daily just how fantastic she was. 

He kissed her again, drinking her sighs as he cupped and traced her body with his palms. His thumbs counted her ribs; felt where her hips jutted out; measured the curvature of her arse and thighs. He reached upwards on a slow journey, eventually covering one of her breasts with his hand. They moaned in tandem as he rolled her weight around, her soft skin and malleable tissue. She pulled away, gasping and whimpering as he flicked and circled his nimble thumb against and around her hardened peak, feeling her temperament becoming so jumpy, so reactive underneath him like this. 

She was so distracted and overwhelmed by her gratification that when he bent his head down and wrapped his wet lips around her nipple, she jolted and cried out. Her hand instinctively latched onto the back of his head, grasping onto his roots as he hummed into her flesh and teased her pink nub so deliciously. His hand continued to massage and stroke its twin as his mouth worked against her, tugging and pulling at Rose’s desire gently like a boat rocking delicately down a river. The dual sensations were steadily stoking the fire within, bringing her to new heights and different experiences of fervour. 

She had never been properly worshipped like this before — handled and worked upon so carefully and with such intense care. She was used to messy kisses, half-arsed fumbles, greedy hands and (mostly) dry, uncomfortable friction. The Doctor was still clothed and he hadn’t put his pleasure before hers like others had. She could feel a wave of emotion rise and fall within her, merging with her desire and transposing this encounter to a new kind of significance. This wasn’t just him touching her. This was something else entirely.

And this realisation gave her a sort of confidence, moreso a realisation that she was allowed to ask; to encourage. 

“Doctor,” she whispered, and he reluctantly relinquished his focus to look up at her. “Touch me? Please?

“Anything for you, Rose Tyler,” he murmured, planting another kiss against her lips. She parted them this time, inviting him to explore her further, and he did with enthusiasm. His tongue slipped through the gap without thought, stroking and searching. She reached forward as well, meeting him and pouring her need into her movements. As they snogged, the Doctor roamed his hands across her body and Rose did the same, feeling his form as well as she could over the barrier of his clothes. She made a little frustrated noise when she cupped his arse and denim got in the way, making him chuckle into her mouth. 

Gradually, he rolled off of her and onto his side, pulling her with him. Once she was mirroring his image, he grasped onto her bare thigh and swung it over his hip, spreading her open for him. His fingers fluttered up her skin, brushing the outside of her thigh before stroking her hip and waist. A little pule escaped her lips as she felt a fresh wave of arousal rush through her, so sensitive and needy. She latched onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Shh, I know, precious girl,” he cooed as she worried her lip, overly tense with desire. He cupped one of her cheeks, staring into her eyes. “Just relax for me. That’s all you need to do, Rose. Relax ,” he instructed. She sucked in a breath and nodded, waiting for him to make his move. He didn’t until she had settled, staying still before he could feel all of the unnecessary traction leave her body. 

He leaned in close, adorning gentle, barely-there kisses on her lips as he inched his fingers towards her heat at a crawling pace. It was slow and meticulous, traversing from her hip to the crease of her thigh, then the edge of her pelvis before hovering against her mons. He kept his mouth light against hers, carefully controlling the suspension and sensuality he was generating. He didn’t want to rile her up too much, or else this would be over far too quickly, but he didn’t want to leave her high and dry either. There was a certain sweet spot nestled in this grey area where the balance of pleasure and stimulation was utterly perfect, and he was certain he had found it. Rose’s hot, deep breaths blended with his own, her damp skin tingling against his, and her dilated pupils latched onto him with no intentions of breaking away.

She stopped breathing when he rested a singular finger in the crevice of her slit. It was as though time had slowed down as he slid the length through the opening, spreading open her labia and her lust over his skin. She could feel her bundle of nerves pulsing against him and knew he could too as added a second finger to his exploration. With those two digits, he dragged them up from her seeping heat and to the location of his fixation, bringing her wetness with him. The tips of his two fingers brushed against her engorged clit and she gasped out a cry, eyes squeezing shut. She trembled as the arousal ricocheted through her, bouncing and flying around with no intention of stopping. She had never been more keyed up before in her life, and it was barely comprehensible. It was like she couldn’t bear to have him stimulate her but she also refused to let him stop. 

“Oh, Rose ,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “There you are, sweetheart… So wet for me. Such a good girl,” he crooned, remaining still as he allowed her to adapt to these new feelings and sensations. His Rose had spent all this time craving his touch, his desire, and she deserved a moment to adjust and savour. He nuzzled his nose with hers and placed his lips over hers in a gentle kiss, just barely skimming the seal of her mouth with his tongue. 

When he felt her relax as much as she could, he dragged his digits down her clit just as he had against the instrument, keeping the strokes short yet long. She whimpered against his lips, one hand releasing his shoulder to grasp onto the back of his head instead. He continued with the vertical drags and pushes, drinking in her moans and quivers as she became putty in his hand. Her leg flinched and curled where it was wrapped around him, tugging him closer unintentionally as he pleased her. Her sex was glossy and copious against his skin, coiling the wire within him tighter and tighter as he encountered the tangible, real evidence that she wanted him. Truly, madly and deeply. It was unbelievable, a perverted fantasy for this old, broken man.

But it wasn’t fantasy. It was reality .

And he allowed himself to get lost in it.

“My Rose,” he purred after pulling his lips away from hers. The slick, wet sounds of his unrelenting, constant touch filled the room. It was astounding how aroused she was, and he just knew that he could slip inside of her with no resistance if given the chance. It melted into his heaving breaths, her collection of little noises and her own breathing, creating perhaps the most erotic soundscape either of them had ever encountered before. Paired with the acute, unbreakable eye contact, it surged the desire in both of him further and higher. “Is this what you had hoped for?” he inquired in a low, smouldering voice, two intentions woven in his question — to ensure he was actually taking care of her, and to preserve the sensuality that had been brewing throughout this whole encounter.

She nodded quickly and desperately, twisting and rolling her hips when he brushed against her in a different way — grazing her sensitive hood when he changed to swirling his digits against her in a smooth, tender circular shape. A groan leapt out of her as he maintained the rotations and rolls in a liquid, never-ending pattern, and the Doctor watched in amusement as she struggled to gather herself, trying her absolute best to push through the fog and haze of need to be coherent. The smug, almost surprised look that had appeared on his face when the instrument had played music returned to him at this moment. 

“It is,” she finally managed to tell him, her short nails digging into his scalp and back where she pushed past his thin jumper. 

“Do you want me to go further?” he questioned, partially challenging her with the all-knowing tone laced in his voice. He knew she was steadily heading towards the end — the delightful, mindblowing explosion of neurons and chemicals within her brain and body. He was content with the thought of Rose Tyler coming apart with just clitoral stimulation alone — just the fact he would get to see her climax was satisfying enough to him. 

But something deep inside of him yearned to push ; see how far he could make her go.

It scared him, but it also excited him. He hadn’t felt so free and carefree in such a very long time. 

She was deprived of words, only able to give a little nod and a moan that she hoped would translate to ‘yes’ as he continued to stroke her bundle of nerves. Palpitations and jolts bounced all through her legs, and she shook with the power it took to stave off completion when she was so close, but she knew it was going to be worth it. 

He didn’t hesitate, his fingers immediately dropping down to her entrance and sheathing themselves inside of her without a second thought. She cried out loudly, almost a scream as he thrust his digits in and out of her firmly. It wasn’t rough or uncomfortable, but just pure drive as the Doctor let go of his inhibitions for a second.

Right here, right now, Rose Tyler was his , and he was going to mark this moment in a way that she would never forget.

“Were you close when I came in?” he murmured, boring his eyes into hers. 

Yes ,” she choked out in a gasp as his fingers pushed upwards and brushed against that spot within. It made her vision go white for a second, like a frosty, milky glaze over a window. She let out a quiet, tense sort of yelp as pleasure pulsed and pulled within her. She could feel it coming now — she was back on the brink of breaking. Everything was tight and fragile and god , she just wanted to fall. Fall in his embrace and under his touch, and he knew .

“Don’t quiet yourself, love,” he encouraged, his digits moving so fluidly within her like a neverending wave. She clenched and squeezed around him, a heavy moan escaping her lips as the base of his palm grazed her clit. “I want to hear you; hear it all. Show your Doctor how good I’m making you feel,” he implored, nipping her earlobe. She was shaking and jerking as he continued to fuck her slowly and attentively with his hand, watching her with an ardent gaze that seemed to drive her even madder than she already was. It was as though his eyes were pouring more and more arousal into her, teasing her with just sight alone. She wondered if it was a telepathic effect, and if it was, she was more than happy to have it inside of her head. 

I’m —” she sobbed, the titillation overwhelming. “Oh, god , please.”

“Come for me, Rose,” he encouraged, that stormy, darkness in his eyes that she had only seen when he was angry. The passion, determination and authority radiated off of him as it had in those moments, but she wasn’t afraid or worried this time.

She felt seen.

She felt loved.

And that was the last thought she had before she shattered into pure bliss, crying out loudly, practically a wail as she pulsed and trembled around him. She was sure she left crescent-shaped marks in the spongy flesh of his shoulder and neck as she came incredibly, undeniably hard . All the stars and nebulas and asteroids and Earthes blowing up that he’d shown her exploded across her vision, her heart racing and body flashing heat relentlessly. She could barely compute the sweet nothings he was murmuring to her and the brushes of his lips against her sweaty skin, enslaved by the sensations and feelings pummelling through her like a storm. She could hear herself in a distant room babbling and whimpering and moaning as her orgasm continued to come back to her like ripples across water; repeated strokes of a paintbrush against her.

All through it the Doctor held her, his fingers still buried inside of her and coaxing her through the shockwaves with instinctive, caring, barely-there thrusts. His hand kindly avoided her throbbing clit, not interested in sending her into overstimulation after such a fine-tuned experience. “Good girl,” she heard him breathe once she finally resurfaced, the words going straight to her core and spreading a tingling feeling across her skin and nerves. “Such a good, fantastic girl for me. That was brilliant, sweetheart. So, so mesmerising,” he praised in soft tones, tracing her features with his lips as he steadily eased his digits out of her heat. She mewled quietly at the loss and tensed up, missing him immensely. He gave her an apologetic look and kissed her tenderly, hoping to acquire forgiveness. She gulped in air, her lips fluttering against his. 

But she protested, twisting and turning her face away from his and enforcing space between them. It bewildered him — he’d always imagined Rose to be the sort of person who was extremely cuddly and affectionate after sex — but panic also sharply struck through him without warning like a blade. Did she regret it, now that she was back to her senses? Had she felt pressured, overwhelmed by him? Had the intrusion upon her privacy been too traumatic for her and skewed her ability to think and act clearly, caught off guard and embarrassed?

The Doctor suddenly felt that natural instinct to shrink away into nothing, disgusted with himself. He had defiled and manipulated this poor, young girl. He was a monster.

But her pleas remedied his worries.

Please , Doctor,” she whined, grasping onto his shoulders. “I need more. Please,” she begged. The flood of self-loathing faded away as quickly as it had arrived, restoring his confidence and security. It amazed him, how easily he was able to swing back and forth between emotions like a pendulum. It was a mere testimony to the power Rose Tyler held over him. 

“What do you need, love?” he murmured, watching her with his intense blue eyes. He would do anything for her. 

“I…” Her words died out, feeling embarrassed to say it. Her desires, her emotions, her wants were things too explicit to say out loud. Couldn’t he just read between the lines? Wasn’t it blatant what she needed from him? What else could follow from an encounter such as his fingers being inside of her? Or did his people do shagging a bit differently?

He smirked, nosing her temple before brushing his lips against her ear, making her shiver. “Do you need my cock inside of you?” She nodded furiously, fingernails digging into his jumper-clad shoulders. “Say it, Rose,” he implored in a pur, taking her earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently. She whimpered and her hips rocked without control, desperate to find and feel the hardness she knew he was keeping from her in those jeans that made his bum look stupidly good. “Come on, sweetheart… I know you can,” he whispered against her neck, stroking his thumb against her hip.

“I…” She swallowed and inhaled. “I want your cock in me,” she forced herself to say, her cheeks burning.

“That’s my precious girl,” he chuckled proudly, rolling her onto her back and pressing a deep kiss against her lips. She chased him when he pulled away, but he gently kept her on her back as he sat up. He straddled her, maintaining eye contact as he reached down and stripped himself of his maroon jumper, tossing it somewhere in the abyss of the room’s darkness. 

Her eyes unashamedly trailed his now bare figure, studying and savouring the lines and shapes of his body. His bones jutted out against his skin boldly, his clavicles, collarbones and ribs irresistible and entrancing. His muscles curved and straightened into a firm, towering torso, toned and taut in all the right places. Rose couldn’t help but reach out, resting her hands on his waist and committing the feel of his flesh to her mind for the first time. He sighed longingly, leaning down and kissing her passionately as he allowed her to familiarise herself with his body. Her touch and exploration was poised and curious, tracing every edge and bump and curve and blemish. She discovered the spots that tickled him, made him keen and sent shivers down his spine. 

He had worshipped her and she wished to do the same to him.

She scratched her nails lightly against his nipples, making him hiss in pleasure and grip the bedding beside her. She smirked against his mouth and giggled quietly, inspiring his own laughter. She dragged her palm down his chest, and she didn’t shy away from her intentions as she fiddled with the buckle of his belt. He allowed her to take the reigns for a moment, pulling back and peering into her eyes as she slowly pulled the leather from the metal confinements, tugging it in a smooth gesture out of the loops before throwing it to clatter on her floor. 

Like a teasing temptress, she thumbed the button and zipper of his jeans. His mouth gaped as she undid each component, like the slow pops of popcorn cooking under heat. The button slipping out of the hole; each tooth of the zip becoming untethered one by one. Her hand snaked inside his trousers, cupping his hard, thick cock. He grunted low and hard as she finally felt it in her hand, his throbbing reverberating against her skin, and she nibbled on her bottom lip at the thought of him being inside of her. How he would stretch her out; fill her to the brim. She wondered what the distinct vein curling up and around the shaft would feel against her walls without the barrier of latex. 

She had never wanted something more in her whole life.

She grasped onto his jeans and pants — boxer shorts from what she could tell — and started to yank them down his square hips. He assisted her as she had assisted him with her t-shirt earlier, eager to finally be naked with her and to be together in this way. His cock was proud and tall between his thighs once freed, solid with arousal. Rose felt her breath hitch at the glistening evidence adorning his swollen head, telling her just how badly he wanted this as well.

“Rose,” he whispered as they shuffled and shifted, instinct taking over as they found the right position for this. Her thighs spread open accommodatingly and he nestled himself right into her welcoming hips, his length brushing against her sensitive skin. With one arm bracing his weight, he cupped her cheek, staring deeply into her eyes. She reciprocated, analysing his shining eyes — two pools of the clearest water. So much emotion and intensity swirling within. “I… I love you so much,” he confessed, falling from his throat without thought. Embarrassment shrouded him, distinctly aware of the intimacy and burden of his words. It was one thing to have a sexual attraction to your friend, but to hold such vehemence was another. Was he about to ruin everything by bringing his feelings into this?

Like sunshine on a cold, grey day, a delighted smile spread across Rose’s face. Her eyes lit up and he could hear her heart racing faster and faster as she whispered back, “I love you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh in relief, his lips attaching to hers in an instant. Warmth and comfort and peace spread across him. The passion burned inside of them like a firecracker, sizzling and scorching from the inside out. Pressing and pulling as hands roamed and kisses intensified. The Doctor stroked and caressed her jaw, tickling the spot beneath her ear before sliding his hand over her breast. Rose’s hands gripped onto his broad shoulders, urging him closer. His cock nudged at her pubic bone, and it seemed to remind them of the destination they had been heading towards. Lips separated and hard, sharp breaths fusing together, he reached down and aligned himself to her entrance.

Eyes unmoving and stuck on each other, the Doctor pushed himself into her glorious, soaked core with no resistance. Her moan was syrupy and high, her toes curling into the mattress and blunt nails crimping his skin. The Doctor’s forehead dropped against hers, a low groan rumbling out of his chest. He was buried to the hilt in her, her molten heat spread all over him and making his eyes roll upwards. 

He’d lost track of how long it had been since he’d been intimate with someone, let alone someone he loved, and he had forgotten how incredible it was.

Wanting to be more tethered to her, he smoothed his hands over her round thighs and hiked her up by her knees, wrapping her smooth, long legs around his hips and locking her ankles together at his tailbone. No further communication was needed as she immediately tightened her hold, keeping him right where she wanted him. He peppered soft kisses all over her face and mouth, coaxing the tiniest, most delightful noises from her throat before withdrawing his hips and pushing back in. It prompted a hard, deep cry from him and another tight one from her.

He set a smooth, patient rhythm, rocking in and out of her in a connected string of movements. There were no disruptions, falters or inconsistencies. He rolled into her with the sharpest focus, determined to bring his Rose to the peak of pleasure once again. And as he did, he could feel the universe around him turning and shifting at a minuscule level — like every single atom buzzing against his skin. Although he was literally, physically affixed to her in this moment, he could also sense something else entwining them. It was unspoken, tangled and threaded together. An instinct made it clear to him that this bind was unbreakable — that he and Rose Tyler were destined to be connected, forever.

“Doctor,” Rose quavered, cheeks and chest flushed as she gave herself permission to become lost in the sensations, the emotions. As he claimed her in this way, encompassing her crevice and the sense of longing she had always felt in her mundane, repetitive life, something seemed to click in her. The right cog shifting; the last puzzle piece slotting in; solving the equation; scratching the itch. It was as though a mass was settling right in her chest, merging with her heart and filling her bloodstream. It was hard to comprehend, this serenity that filled her. She never believed she would get this close to the Doctor, let alone declare her feelings and find them being reciprocated. It was more fantastical and absurd to accept than all the planets and species she had seen; the truths that had been exposed to her and distorted her understanding of everything she had thought she knew. 

To be openly loved by an ancient creature that had seen so much was ineffable.

Everything appeared to strip away bit by bit as they continued to make love, their focus burning away to just solely fixate on each other. With time, they became attuned together and found a mutuality. Rose was able to move with him, rocking her hips back to capture him and keep him close. The sensation of her wet heat sliding over him in tandem with his fallbacks produced garbled, strangled noises from him. He could feel his own completion catching up faster and faster, having staved it off for a while now in the name of Rose.

With this in mind, he grasped Rose by the hips and tilted her on a deeper angle, shifting a little himself so he could thrust in and out comfortably. With this change, the next propel into her struck the erogenous zone within and brushed his pelvic bone against her swollen, aching bundle of nerves, and she cried out so loudly in such a desperate, distraught voice.

Rose ,” he whined, so torn up. “Gods, love. You feel… Fuck ,” he choked, his mind turning to mush. All he could think about was her glorious wetness, consuming his attention like a parasite. He peered at Rose through shuttered eyes and a hazed vision, brow pinching as he took in the breathtaking sight. She looked as she did when he had first walked in here fifteen or so minutes ago — face contorted into an expression of pure ecstasy. He could see the microscopic beads of sweat trickling all across her skin, tracing the lines of her body and every little pocket there was to encounter. He could feel every little nerve in his body flare and bristle, approaching his completion steadily.

God ,” Rose exclaimed in a lofty, distraught voice, her muscles tightening and trembling. He was sure his back was going to bear an array of marks after this with the way her nails scratched and embedded his skin, mapping out Rose’s escalation of pleasure and tolerance. “I’m gonna— Doctor, please .” He drove his hips into her with more firmness and intensity at her declarations, feeling his own grip slipping and fumbling away. An intense sensation burned in the base of his spine and he quickly returned his hand to the centre between them, stroking her clit in hopes of giving her the resolution she desired before it was too late.

“Together, Rose,” he implored, staring into her golden eyes.

Within seconds of each other, they broke. Rose’s moans and cries were a symphony that wrapped around the Doctor’s hearts as she clamped and squeezed around him, drying him for all he was worth as the reverberations of her climax rocked through her. He groaned low and hard as he released himself inside of her in one final, short buck, trembling over her as everything in his body seemed to turn to liquid. He strained with the need to collapse but willed himself to stay upright, taking solace in the image of Rose beneath him babbling and whimpering as the remnants of her bliss drifted away. Her eyelids fluttered and dropped as she cupped his face, bringing him down for a deep, longing kiss. He sighed into her mouth, pulling her in for a cuddle as they settled in the aftermath for a moment. Ears ringing and bodies unstable, they latched onto each other with no other care in the universe.

She had been right — he had her.