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olive-treeeee · 8 days ago

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Regeneration. It's a lottery - 12th Doctor x Reader

Well Howdy Doody fella's I hope you all are slaying cuz I sure am. This Fic was requested by the amazing @ding-dong-big-schlong who asked the following:

"Yo yo you yo

So I loved that smut request you did for me, I was wondering if I could request another??👀 (it’s ovulation week) anyway it’s not even really FOR the smut, I just have kinda a funny scenario/situation in my head

Imagine reader having an “old man kink” (as in just generally is attracted to older blokes), and when 11 regenerates into 12, omg in just imagining him being kinda insecure and embarrassed at looking older and worried the reader will reject him for it, but it just ends up spurring them on more and he doesn’t expect THAT reaction lmaoooo

Like imagine him asking “how do I look” and the reader being all “you’d look better with your clothes on the floor” or smth and him getting sooooooo flustered 😂😂😂"

Now this is not the short Drabble I meant it to be (It never really is, is it?) It is in fact one of, if not the longest fic I have written to date. It also came out sliiiightly more angsty than I meant for it to be. But, that being said, there are still some funny moments. it's just like 6k words of The Doctor being in love with the reader.

This takes place during the events of 'Hold Your Breath.' But I'd say you don't need to familiarise yourself with the episode, but it *enhances* the experience imo.

This is also the first time I have ever written for 12 so I hope I got his voice and character right. A lot of the Fics I've read of him, have him all sad and mean, which fit his character better tbh. I thought I'd spice things up and just make him sad and soft ✌️

I'd recommend to all those who know me in real life, give this one a miss. I'd like to be able to look ya'll in the eye.

Oh! And I'm also writing my first big boy, multi fic! It's going to be a Kate Stewart x reader, now, I'm a little rusty on writing longer fan fictions, so like I'm potentially looking for some beta readers. So if you love everybody's favourite Milfy commander as much as I do, you should totally send me a message xoxo

One other thing, its been a hot minute since I've written any kind of smut, so perhaps that means I need a bit more practice wink wink nudge nudge.

Keep those requests coming, I love to hear you guys' ideas so much! :)

Wordcount: 6.4k

Warnings: Self esteem issues, a little bit of dropping the 'F' bomb and pure unbridled smut.

Requests are open!

Regeneration was a lottery.

Too right it was. One moment, you were looking at a twenty-something, quiffed up, dreamboat that looked like he just walked out of a straight out of a 2010s boyband. The next… well, no one quite knew how to explain the shift from that, to the man he could see before him.

Gone was the youthful charm, replaced by a man who looked three decades older, with a wild mop of silver curls, eyes like deep wells, and a stare that could see straight through you.

And god did he miss being a ‘dreamboat’. The Doctor wasn’t one for the meaningless, shallow notion of ‘flirting’-- at least not when it came to getting what he wanted. Manipulation through charm was always beneath him, for the most part. But in his eleventh form? He could do just that. It was just so effortless to him, that Incarnation had a face that could launch a thousand blushes, a sparkle in his eye and enough boyish charm to disarm the most skeptical of hearts. It didn’t matter the person; Human, Alien, Royalty or Rock Star, Hell, Even the great Marilyn Monroe had the hots for him at one point.

But none of that mattered to him…

What mattered was you. You'd met The Doctor during that very incarnation, after a particularly difficult, long day at the cafe where you worked. You were cleaning down counters, flushing out the coffee machine, counting down those last few seconds, and just when you thought that you had seen it all, you heard a rat-atat-tat on the glass. You had glanced up and there he was, The Doctor, hair wild and windswept, suit torn at the shoulder and slightly sweaty, streaked with dirt and grime. You arched an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. What could this disheveled and unreasonably good looking stranger possibly want at this time of the evening? You shook your head to silently tell him that you were, in fact, closed.

The Doctor never cared much for rules, and he knew you didn’t either.

Was it the deviously charming smile he gave you? Was it the promise of something much bigger than a cafe in a small seaside town? Or perhaps, it was the otherworldly wisdom he had that put you in mind of an old University professor?

You didn’t care, you took his hand and promised to follow wherever he led.

There was always something there. The Doctor knew that his childish demeanor mixed in with his sharp dress sense and, let's face it- the floppy hair, did something to his companions- ie Amy Pond. Yet, there was more there. It was more than mere attraction, there was genuine love.

That’s what you both assumed it was anyway.

It all started with a slight brush of the hand, a smile when one of you thought the other wasn’t looking, the sudden race of the heart when he would pull you close, it all added up to one thing: attraction, pure unadulterated, attraction. What then?

Yes, of course, what then?

There was only one thing that you could possibly do in that situation: Keep that shit to yourself. So that's exactly what both did, but keeping feelings bottled up are a hell of a lot easier said than done… especially when, on nearly every single blasted adventure, you somehow ended up crammed together in some ridiculously confined space.

By that point you wondered if the universe had an agenda…

But, like all good things, perhaps this should come to an end? Regeneration waits for no one and nothing. The Doctor Liked You. Really Liked you but that was always the risk of falling for a human. A human wouldn’t understand the complicated concept of regeneration.

What if you didn’t like the person he had become? What if you upped and decided that you didn’t want to go on adventures with him any more? People have left him for less, of course but with you it would feel much different.

You were different. According to the Doctor, perhaps a change of appearance would be the opposite of detrimental, perhaps it might even strengthen your relationship.

There was only one way to find out.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

FLASH

In an instant, the Doctor’s face shifted. One life melting into another in a blinding swirl of energy that ended as soon as it started. You yelped and stumbled back, heart racing, barely able to process what you were seeing.

“Kidneys!” he shouted, grimacing and clutching his side. “I’ve got new kidneys!” He began to pace around you in disoriented circles, barely registering your presence.

“I don’t like the colour,” he muttered, frowning as the thought struck him again.

“The colour… of your kidneys?” you asked, voice small and shaky, blinking through tears that hadn’t fully dried, from moments ago, when you’d begged the Doctor not to change.

Emotional whiplash is what you might call that.

The TARDIS lurched, juddering and shaking. The TARDIS experienced Turbulence all the time, yes. But not like this. You clutched to the side as the two of you were hurled from side to side.

“Whats Happening?” You cried, breathing shallowly.

“We’re probably crashing.” The New Doctor responded, with a hint of panic that was covered up remarkably well. Oh, he was Scottish now.

Sexy.

No. Shut up.

“Into what?”

“Stay clam.” He spoke again, moving around the console flipping random switches. That was a sure sign that despite his bright expression and his sure words, he did, in fact, not know what he was doing. “Just one question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?”

Oh. My. God.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

The good news was, you hadn’t died, the bad news was, you did crash. Flying straight out of a dinosaur’s throat, while the TARDIS was covered in Tyranosaurus spit and you, mildly concussed by your head being smacked against the side of the console upon impact, things weren’t looking great.

The worst of it was, you didn’t recognise the man who stood before you.

Sure, to some capacity he was easy on the eyes, in a very… different way than he was less than twelve hours before, but this Doctor was brash, harsh and his brain was scrambled from the regeneration. It wasn’t something that you were accustomed to experiencing. He mentioned the notion of regeneration once, he said it was ‘Like dying a hundred times and being reborn as a stranger to yourself. Just when you begin to understand who you are, you become someone else.’

You had no idea what that was like.

And so, with a Dinosaur roaming around the streets of Victorian London and an out of control Doctor, you took refuge in Madame Vastra and her wonderful wife, Jenny’s, home. While in the dim coolness of it, you watched as Vastra carefully tried to, send him to sleep. She had muttered under her breath, something along the lines of “Here we go again.” To Jenny.

What could she have possibly meant by that? You thought. How many other ‘Dashing’ faces had he had before? And more importantly, how long would he have this one?

A long time, you hoped.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

“It’s simply misunderstandable to me. I don’t know what it is!”

You and Jenny were pressed close to the door of the guest bedroom, barely breathing as you strained to hear muffled voices between the Doctor and Vastra from beyond. The hallway silent and still, save for the soft brush of your shoulders against the door as you squirmed at the sound of the Doctor’s voice raised. You were positioned in a way that made the both of you face each other. Neither of you said a word during the exchange – None were needed. You could see it in her eyes, just as it burned in yours: Two humans, mundane and simple, entangled in something from somewhere that wasn’t here. And yet, you loved them so.

It was a confusing string of thoughts and desires that got squashed by the logical part of your brain.

It made no sense. How could it? To the both of you, a storm of emotions churned beneath your skin – longing, fear, disbelief, the sharp ache of knowing what you felt should be impossible. Every rational thought tried to bury it, to force it down into the dark where it could be forgotten, dismissed as a foolish infatuation.

But it wasn’t, was it?

“And who invented this room?”

The door slammed open, and you and Jenny tumbled through the doorway, you, straight into the Doctor’s chest. You felt blush creep up your cheeks and hoped he didn’t see, but by the looks of things, he was more interested in the logistics of the room than whatever you were doing. Harsh.

“Doctor Please.” You grabbed his forearms softly and brought him closer to the bed, “You have to lie down.”

But the Doctor wasn’t having it, he pulled away from your touch. Something in your heart ached from the rejection, so you kept your hands to yourself. “It doesn’t make any sense.” he gestured wildly to the bed. “Look, it’s only got a bed in it.”

He’d gone insane, what next? The better question being: How were you going to take a Rogue Dinosaur back to where it belonged if the man that had for all intents and purposes brought it here, couldn’t wrap his head around the concept of a bedroom.

“That’s because it's a BedROOM.” you huffed. “It’s for sleeping in.”

“Okay.” The Doctor started flailing all over again. “What do you do when you’re awake?”

“You leave the room.” Jenny jumped in. At this point all three of you were slowly shepherding him towards the bed.

The Doctor’s gaze darted frantically between you all. “So you have a whole room for not being awake in?.”

Yes.

“But what's the point?” He pushed past you and ran to the other side of the room, with a little trot, still completely frantic. “And don’t look in that mirror, its absolutely furious.”

“Doctor Please!” Your voice cut through his rambling. “You have to sit down, you keep passing out!”

“Allow me.” Madame Vastra sauntered up to the Doctor, taking his hands in her own. He didn’t flinch away like he did with you. You tried now to let that upset you. He silently brought him to the bed.

What was she-?

Vastra placed her fingers to his temples, a moment of silence befell all of you, and then with a thwack he fell to the bed, perfectly unconscious.

“So what now?” You asked.

It seemed like Vastra had ignored you, she turned to her wife, calmly. “Jenny Dear, I will be in my chambers, would you be kind enough to fetch my veil?”

Jenny’s eyes knitted together in confusion. “Why? Are we expecting strangers?”

Vastra’s eyes slowly and bitterly came into contact with your own. She looked like she was staring straight into your soul. “It would seem.” She held your gaze perfectly. “There’s already one here.”

You exhaled when she strode out of the room, heels click clacking on the floor. “What Have I done wrong?” You asked, with mild panic.

Jenny curtsied politely, almost sympathetically. “Forgive her Ma’am.” She said, picking her next words carefully. “She has not met many of the Doctor’s companions, I fear she might have the wrong idea with you.”

The brunette stepped closer to you, taking your hands in her own. “She will learn that you mean no harm, and that your love and care for the Doctor stretches beyond the way he looks.”

A blush crept up your face as you gave the Doctor’s sleeping form one last look. “Yes.” was all you could manage to say.

“Good, well I’ll be off then. The wife doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” The brunette smiled at you before turning to step out of the room.

“But where did he get that face?” You asked absent mindedly. “Why does it have lines on it? It’s brand new.”

“It’s still him ma’am.”

“Yes.”

“You saw him change.”

“Yes- I Know, I know that. I just-”

“Good.” Jenny said with a smile. “And, I for one think that, you still feel the same way for him now, as you did yesterday.”

“Yes.”

Jenny didn’t say another word after that, she didn’t need to. She curtsied one more time before excusing herself to hers and her wife’s chambers. She would let you know when you were next needed.

If you were needed at all that was. The look that Vastra gave you was as if you were the gum underneath her perfectly sculpted heels.

As you sat on the bed, completely alone with the Doctor. He looked so peaceful now, chest rising and falling in an even pattern. You cocked your head slightly at the sight with a small smile playing on your lips. You hadn’t seen him like this before. He was always running around, eyes bright and full of sparkle. What kind of person would he be now?

Upon a further look, you noticed the lines, mapping across his face. Each one, longer and deeper than the last, yet they fit him. It was as if even though he looked so different, you could pick him out in a crowd of thousands.

Then there was that little wrinkle in the middle of his furrowed brow. You chuckled silently, he looked beautiful, in a strange way. A way that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, you querked an eyebrow at him and a warm pool formed in your lower abdomen. You swallowed as you tried to will it away.

Your hand moved, almost with a mind of its own and touched one of his unruly grey curls. Your breath hitched as you ran a hand through it.

It was still him.

And he was beautiful.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips and back to his hair, taking in the entirety of his face. “Doctor.” You Murmured his name for the first time in what felt like weeks. It felt so right on your tongue, he felt right. That was knowledge that you were completely comfortable in. Did he feel it too? You adjusted the covers over him ever so slightly and pressed your palm against his hand. A gesture that felt like it had been done a thousand times over.

“Ma’am?” You heard Jenny’s voice again, from the doorway. “She’s ready for you.”

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

“And then, what happened?” Madame Vastra asked. She sat across from you in a large, spoon-shaped bamboo armchair, its smooth curves catching the soft light. Jenny stood beside her, hands folded neatly in front of her, a quiet presence. The conservatory glowed with a warm, golden hue, sunlight filtering through the glass and casting gentle shadows. Elegant Greek statues and serene stone fountains were arranged tastefully among vibrant, exotic plants, filling the spacious room with a sense of civilised tranquility.

It only offended you slightly that Vastra wore her veil over her face. It was not merely an insult but a mark of suspicion.

I have to prove it to her. The thought whispered through your mind. I have to prove to her that I do truly care for him.

But you couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Why are you wearing your veil?” You Murmured Brokenly.

“And then?” She asked again through gritted teeth.

You sighed. No explanation then. “And then.” You mimicked her tone through gritted teeth. “We got swallowed by a giant dinosaur.” You slouched in your seat like a stroppy teenager. “You probably noticed.”

So much for proving to her.

Jenny asked another question, and then another. You didn’t quite fully understand what she was asking you, yet you answered anyway, like your mind was on auto pilot.

After the questions were over. Madame Vastra leaned forward so that she had your full attention. You couldn’t see her properly through her veil but her gaze was burning through you.

“Do you know what has just happened to the Doctor?” She asked, pointedly.

You Nodded.

“Tell me.” She knew. Of course she knew, she was just simply testing you.

“He told me about it once. He told me it was called ‘Regeneration’. He said it was like a renewal.” You said, keeping your face as neutral as you could.

“And yet, you have such a cynical smile.”

“What.” you instinctively leaned back sharply. “I’m not- how can you tell?”

“I am… accustomed to seeing through a veil.” She placed her hands neatly in her lap. “But you are not the one to be asking questions today.” She cleared her throat, making a small scene of it. It was to get your attention, and she had it. “What is your intention with the Doctor?”

Your eyes widened, almost to say excuse me? You didn’t quite know what to expect from a chat from Madame Vastra, but you definitely didn’t expect it to be reminiscent of a teenage boy sat in front of his new girlfriend’s father and him asking “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

Jenny must have noticed your reaction because she nudged Vastra with her elbow. Vastra gave her wife a “What did I do?” look momentarily, but then turned back to you, only slight apologetically. “Forgive me. I was insensitive there. I only mean to understand you.”

“I understand.” You rasped. “I don’t know.” Another moment of silence. “I like him.”

“Do you like him now?” Vastra turned her head sideways like a curious bird. “He is different to the person he once was.”

Another test.

“He’s not different.” You remained as calm as you could. “You said so yourself. He just looks different. He just doesn’t look young anymore.”

“You think the Doctor is young.” Vastra snapped, her tone changing almost instantly. You had really done it now.

“He looked like your dashing young gentleman friend, your lover even.”

“Vastra I’m-”

“He is the Doctor.” She hissed. “He has walked this universe for centuries, untold, he has seen stars fall to dust.”

You looked over at Jenny wide eyed, she gave you a look to be quiet.

“You might as well flirt with a mountain range.” She continued, teeth bared. Nostrils flaring. You had only met the woman once in your time with the Doctor but never had she shown this kind of outrage. “He flirted with you, yes. But you and I both know that you loved it. He looked young and pretty. Now, who do you think that was for?”

“I don’t-”

“Everyone. I wear a veil as he wore a face for the same reason. Do you know what the reason is?”

You shook your head. You did not want to open your mouth for fear of saying the wrong thing again.

“Acceptance.” She spat out. “Jenny and I are Married, but for acceptance, we maintain a pretence, in public, that she is my maid. Do you understand what that is like? The Doctor no longer has the face he had yesterday or the day before that, so now things will be much more difficult for him. And I will say this in the most polite way I can muster; he does not need for you to decide that now he isn’t what you want him to be and leave him.”

You frowned, the accusation tore into you. “Are you judging me?” It was your turn to snarl at her.

Vastra sighed, as she relaxed slightly – but not completely. “He regenerated in front of you. The young man disappeared, the veil lifted. He trusted you.” She turned to her wife, a language only they both understood. “I just hope that he’s right.”

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

After that exhilarating interrogation, you were dismissed back to the bedroom where the Doctor lay. Jenny had told you that there was a guest room in the west wing. She mentioned something about not having guests very often, so while you were seeing the doctor, she made up the bed. You'd have rathered spend the night with him.

Not in that way, but yes in that way.

You shook the thought out of your head, before you turned to the door of the room. You knocked softly. “Doctor?” You asked softly. “I’m coming in, okay?”

You stepped into the room and your eyes immediately fell to the bed. The doctor was gone. He had clearly awoken at some point while you were down stairs. But where could he have gone?

“You there.” A voice. Not harsh, not loud but scared.

You whipped around, straight into the eyes of your beloved Doctor. He stood upright, dressed, not in that night shirt he had on before you left, but in a long black army coat with a matching pair of trousers with a shirt buttoned all the way to the top. He looked much more lucid now, no sign of shouting or flailing or distaste for bedrooms.

It was your Doctor. He was back. You smiled brightly at him, taking a single step toward him. He didn’t move, but he also didn’t move away. That was all the permission you needed to take another step, then another until you were faced to face with him. Close. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

Tentatively, you reached up and brushed your fingers along his cheek. At the contact, his breath hitched. His eyes fluttered shut, and he exhaled. Quiet, strained, like he’d been holding something in for far too long. The sound made your stomach twist, your pulse quicken.

“Do you remember who I am?” You whispered desperately, your voice radiating with need.

His eyes fluttered open, dark and unreadable, but then:

“Yes.” he breathed. His hand closed gently around yours, his fingers ghosting across your skin with a reverence that felt like worship. He said your name like it hurt to hold it in — soft, desperate, sacred.

You choked out a breathless moan, nearly a whimper, your gaze, flickering down to his lips then back up to his eyes. They were so familiar, aching, kind.

“What do you see?” he murmured again. “When you look at me?”

Your jaw tensed, voice rough with restraint. “What am I meant to see?”

“It’s still me.” His voice was low, velvet and raw. “I am the same person. I can’t change how I look, I wish I could, but it’s still me. If you don’t like me anymore I understand, but please.” He didn’t touch you, not yet. He stood there, trembling on the edge of control. “I need you to know that I Love you. I always have.”

The air between you crackled like a live wire.

You surged forward and kissed him.

The Doctor growled low. His hands found your waist, it was urgent, grounding. He pulled you against him like he could bear another second of distance, not after what felt like years of looking, longing, needing. Your fingers threaded through his soft, silken hair and you felt him groan into your mouth.

He spun you around, pressing you back against the wall. It was sudden and it was hungry. The impact of your back hitting the wood startled a gasp from your lips which was swallowed instantly by another kiss. It was burning and all consuming, your lips moving in perfect unison. You cradled the back of his head as you gave his bottom lip a toothless bite.

Soft, kind, gentle. You could spend hours on his lips alone. Feeling him, really feeling him. You could spend days in his arms, feeling his tight embrace. You could spend a lifetime with him. You could-

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed, pushing himself away from you, instinctively touching his lips. A wave of panic flashed against his features. Your face dropped. Did he regret what you just did? Was he about to tell you that this was all a mistake? He breathed shallowly and went straight back to darting around the room like he did over an hour ago. “That- I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You didn’t step forward this time. You just stayed frozen in place. “What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”

“I-I-I, you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He stammered, words tripping over themselves. As his eyes shifted around the room, looking everywhere but you. “I was being hasty. That wasn’t the right thing to do.”

“Doctor. I kissed you.” You responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh.” He swallowed, you could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “What did you do that for?”

You facepalmed. “I thought you liked me. That’s why I did it.”

The Doctor relaxed, then slowly made his way back to you. He paused when he was close, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but then he wrapped his arms around your waist once more, pulling you into a soft embrace.

“I know that you can tell I’m different.” He looked down at you as he spoke, considering his words very carefully. “I have seen that face so many times before. It's ‘disappointment’ they feel, that I don’t look like the man they once fell in love with. I am not the man I was twelve hours ago, but I also am. I don’t expect you to understand and I also don’t expect you to still feel the same way you may or may not have before I was…me, now.” His gaze broke from you as he looked up, frustrated with himself. “God, you humans are so simple, with your silly little ‘concepts’”

You tried very hard not to be offended by that comment.

“Doctor.” You Blurted. There was a beat before he looked back at you. God, you could get lost in those eyes. “The thing is, I don’t remember telling you that I was disappointed. I don’t know who’s been in your life before me but all I can tell you is that I am not disappointed. I don’t care that your face has more lines on it and I don’t care that you look a little older. In fact, I think it makes you look sexier. I’ve wanted this since I met you.”

The Doctor was ready with an excuse. “But I-” He stopped, the comment you just made just settled in his brain. “You, think what?”

A mischievous grin crept across your face. “I think you heard me loud and clear.”

The Doctor let out a breathless, awkward laugh as she looked up anxiously, with a big bright smile spread across his cheeks. He looked adorable. The All-Amazing, All-Powerful Doctor, blushing and smiling at your silly little comment. It made you giggle slightly, giggles turned to laughing and soon the two of you were honking out belly laughs that overlapped each other, filling the room with complete joy.

“So.” He said, between laughs. He looked back down at you, a sparkle glinted in his eye. “What do you think of the new clothes?” He stepped back, giving a little turn so you could see the whole outfit.

“I think.” You began. You tapped your finger against your chin, pondering, eyes focused on him. “That they’ll look better on the floor.”

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth parted as if to speak, then closed again in silent confusion, the flustered look settling right back in. He stood, mouth agape for a few more moments, waiting for you to say something, anything else.

Your head tilted playfully, a wicked expression darkened your features.

When the Doctor had calmed his unruly blush, he cleared his throat, and brought his searing gaze back to you. “Well.” He said, gruffly. “In that case.”

Before you had a moment to react, his lips were on yours again, this time it was urgent and familiar. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, it felt like he might never let go. Your hands moved to his face, Tracing every line, every crease, every wrinkle, memorising the story etched into his skin. Your heart surged, caught somewhere between joy and desire.

“I’ve wanted you.” You breathed, the words tumbling out of you like a confession torn from the deepest crevice of your chest.. “I’ve wanted you since I met you- since the cafe. I knew, from the moment I looked at you.” Your voice trembled, heavy with the weight of the longing that had only grown harder to contain. It wasn’t just want; it was ‘need’. The space between you felt unbearably charged, his presence pressing into every corner of your awareness. “Doctor.” You whined, voice breaking, desperate as his breath ghosted your lips.

“I can’t-” The Doctor rasped. His continued scepticism of your affection broke you. Still, you let him speak. “The novelty will rub off.” He glanced back down at you. “You and I Both know that.”

That didn’t stop you – in fact, it only spurred you on. Lust clouded your expression as you locked eyes with him again.

“Let me show you then.” You husked. “Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

You stepped forward with purpose, pushing him back until his shoulders met the wall with a dull thud. Your palm pressed firmly against the center of his chest, holding him in place, not that he was trying to get away. His breath hitched as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, caught between anticipation and surrender.

You leaned in slowly, brushing a soft, deliberate kiss against his lips, more a tease than affection. Then another, just beneath his jaw. And another, lower, on the sensitive skin of his throat. You let your mouth trail down, your lips mapping him in fleeting, open-mouthed kisses that grew bolder, wetter, more possessive.

A low moan escaped him as your teeth grazed his neck, a sharp nip followed by a soothing kiss. His hips bucked slightly toward you, but you kept him pinned. Your other hand drifted downward, confident and unhurried, tugging at his belt with a cheeky ease. The clink of the buckle echoed in the charged silence, followed by the soft rustle of fabric as you undid his trousers and eased them down.

Your hand slipped into his underwear without hesitation, wrapping around the hard length of him. You palmed him slowly, savoring the weight, the heat, the way he twitched under your touch. His head tilted back against the wall, lips parted, breath growing shallow and quick. Still, not a word, just the soft, ragged sound of his need.

Then, you pulled away from his neck, your lips leaving his flushed skin with a final lingering kiss. With deliberate slowness, you lowered yourself to your knees, your eyes never leaving his. You settled between his legs, now at eye level with the evidence of just how much he wanted you. Your hand gave a teasing stroke as you looked up at him, your mouth just inches away.

He stared down at you, chest heaving, completely silent, except for the breathy sound of his anticipation. He didn’t need to speak. His body said more than enough.

With a hungry smile, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pushed them down just far enough to free him. Your hand curled around his cock, stroking him slowly, teasing him to full hardness as you watched his reactions with keen interest. His jaw clenched, his breath hitched, and when you looked up at him through your lashes, he looked wrecked already.

You leaned in and pressed a languid lick along the length of him, your tongue tracing a slow path from base to tip. He let out a sharp breath as you reached the head and wrapped your lips around it, taking him into your mouth with deliberate, aching slowness.

The Doctor’s head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, his eyes fluttering shut. A moan escaped him, low, raw, and helpless.

You began to move, lips gliding down and back in a steady rhythm, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach. The slick, wet sound of your saliva coated each motion, making it messier, filthier, better. His hips rolled forward instinctively, chasing the warmth of your mouth, unable to help himself.

You took him deeper, your throat tightening as you gagged around him just enough to make a delicious sound, one that had the Doctor moaning softly, his hands tangling in your hair. He tugged, not to guide, but to ground himself, as though anchoring himself to the moment.

“Just like that,” he breathed, voice breaking with pleasure. “Your mouth feels so fucking good on me, sweetheart.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your thighs. You moaned around him, the vibration making him shudder. Your tongue flicked and swirled around him, lavishing every inch with attention as your pace quickened just enough to make him tremble.

He whispered something… mumbled, incoherent, but you didn’t need to understand. You could feel it, the way his thighs tensed, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly. And then, with a stuttering gasp, he came, hot and thick on your tongue.

You swallowed around him, not breaking eye contact as you pulled back slowly, licking your lips as you let him slip from your mouth. His chest was heaving, his eyes dark and stunned with pleasure, completely undone by you.

You wiped the last of him that escaped from the corner of your lips and rose slowly, you let his eyes follow you. You had never seen an expression quite like this before. A quiet before the storm.

And boy, did you have a great storm awaiting you.

“Do you believe me now?” You asked, hushed, like a kid awaiting praise from a school teacher. The Doctor didn’t say a word, his mouth lay agape, surprised, transfixed.

“I don’t care how many times I have to say it. I love you. I love you so much it kills me.” You pleaded, “I’ll show you. I’ll show you a thousand times if I have to. I don’t give a shit what you look like. It's still you.”

Tears began to prick your vision as you quickly wiped them away. “Jesus, say something please.”

“You like an older man do you?” The Doctor murmured, a dark joke playing on his lips along with a smug smirk.

“I think that was made perfectly clear.” You quipped. “You’ve aged like fine wine, Doctor.”

He laughed at that. A proper head back, coming deep within the stomach chortle. For the first time in a while, you saw his smile, twice in fact. A proper, kind smile. It was infectious, kind, iridescent. You wanted to make him smile always.

And so, The Doctor stepped out of his trousers that were already undone from a few minutes ago, as well as the coat, vulnerability cloaked only in the intensity of his gaze. He stepped forward without a word, his hands warm and steady as he lifted you into his arms. You clung to him instinctively, your breath catching as he laid you down onto the bed with a tenderness that nearly shattered you.

“Clothes on the floor.” he joked, “Well most of them anyway.”

That made you giggle.

“You’re sure?” He asked softly, after a moment of silence, his accent a low murmur that sent heat curling through your spine. His eyes, those stormy, ancient eyes, searched your face for any flicker of hesitation.

“I’m sure,” you whispered.

That was all he needed.

He kissed you gently at first, reverently, like you were something sacred. His mouth moved against yours with quiet urgency, his hand sliding up your thigh, slow and measured, as though memorising every inch of you. He pushed your skirt up, lips never leaving yours, and hooked his fingers around the edge of your panties, pulling them down with a purposeful tug.

His fingers found your folds, already slick, and he paused, just briefly, to look at you, the corner of his mouth twitching in something like awe. Then he slid one finger inside you, then a second, the stretch sending pleasure ricocheting through your body as he began to pump slowly.

“Doctor—” you moaned, hips rising to meet his hand. “That feels—ah!”

He huffed a breathless laugh, gaze darkening as he watched your reactions with rapt fascination. “I know it does. I can feel you,” he growled, voice thick with want. “You’re practically singing for me.”

You arched into his touch, voice trembling. “No, Doctor, I need you. I need you inside me. Please.”

He stilled, staring at you like you’d just told him that Darleks were robots.

“Say no more,” he whispered, but the way he said it, gravelled and reverent, made it sound like a promise, not a command.

He stripped the shirt from your body and undid your bra with deft fingers, then quickly shrugged off his own. His hands traced the curves of your torso, pausing reverently over your breasts, his nails grazing lightly over your skin. Each touch left you breathless, raw, alive.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were real. “All this time… and still, you take my breath away.”

All his usual sharpness, his walls were gone. He was unguarded here, with you. Only this remained: a man who had seen too much, lost too much… and somehow still loved.

He crawled between your legs with careful deliberation, and you wrapped them around his waist, pulling him close. When he finally pushed inside you, both of you gasped, your bodies meeting with a perfect, aching familiarity. You felt full, whole, and utterly claimed.

You mewled as he began to move, slow and grinding, drawing out every sensation like he never wanted it to end. The sound of your pleasure made his breath hitch, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, utterly still for a moment.

“I’ve got you,” he sighed, voice breaking with emotion. “Always. You hear me? I’ve always got you.”

Your bodies moved in tandem, as though made to fit this way. He didn’t look away once, not even when your breath stuttered and you broke apart around him, your orgasm cresting like a wave. He watched you, mesmerised, chasing you through it as if your pleasure was the only thing that mattered.

He moaned softly, lips brushing yours, as he followed you over the edge. And still, even in that final moment, his eyes never left yours.

Silence befell the both of you. A mixture of what was left unsaid for the past few months. Your chest, still fluttering. You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer. “What now?” You asked, a hint of worry churning in your gut.

“Now.” He said, a grin spreading from ear to ear. “We go and catch a dinosaur.”

Regeneration was a lottery.

And the Doctor, sure as hell, won it.

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