this chapter also has explicit sexual content. sorry guys, i was apparently in a mood lol.
read by your own choice.
but the beginning before the explicit content is kinda important so don't skip that.
also phineas & ferb song because it totally describes the doctor to pj ahaha.

▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂

▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂

𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐬
𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐱

from the eyes of
— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 —

There was a shift from beside me an hour or two later, and suddenly I felt empty. I groaned, eyes closed at the uncomfortable stickiness between my legs and the newly empty feeling—the physical and very intimate connection I'd been adorning with the Doctor as we slept was suddenly gone.

It did not take long for me to figure out from my hazy sleep that the Doctor was now awake and had disconnected himself from me. I shivered at the loss of warmth, only to sigh in relief as he was suddenly back and laying next to me.

He kissed the top of my head as I scooted closer to him, desperately clutching onto his body as he draped the comforter over both our naked forms encasing us comforting warmth.

I really did feel disgusting. Like who the hell goes to sleep with someone's penis still inside of them and drenched in the smell of sex? Unfortunately, the answer to that would be the Doctor and I.

I could feel him shifting beside me, his breath soft and measured, the gentle rise and fall of his chest pressing against my own. He wasn't asleep. He rarely was when I woke up. The Doctor didn't need as much sleep as me—not really. Most of the time, he just rested in a sort of half-sleep, laying still with his arms wrapped around me, thinking.

It was a little ridiculous how often he just... stayed. Stayed beside me. Stayed because he knew I slept better with him there. Stayed because, despite his constant, restless energy, he wanted to.

The thought made my lips twitch. How many times had I drifted off wrapped in his warmth, completely unaware that he was simply awake, holding me? Just thinking?

Cracking my eyes open, I tilted my head up—just as I expected, the Doctor was already watching me through the dimness. His green eyes sparkled with something unreadable and an adoring smile was on his face. I barely had time to process it before he squeezed me tighter, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over my arm.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, dearest," He whispered, tapping my nose with his finger. "Go back to sleep... you're only a human, after all. You need it."

I blinked sleepily, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, and you're only a TimeLord, which means you're just a pretentious alien with a superiority complex."

The Doctor gasped, all dramatic faux outrage as he moved his hand down—fingers ghosting past my breasts only stopping once he reached my bare ass. He gave it a firm squeeze. My breath hitched as heat licked up my spine, goosebumps prickling over my skin at the memory of what those hands had done to me hours ago.

"Careful," he murmured, voice dropping just enough to send a pleasant shiver down my spine. "You keep up that cheek, and I might have to get on you again." His fingers kneaded into my skin, teasing, threatening, promising.

I arched an eyebrow, suppressing another shiver. "Oh, no," I deadpanned. "Whatever shall I do?"

His lips twitched, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Such a brat," he hummed, rubbing slow circles into my skin before giving it another squeeze for good measure. "And to think I keep you around."

I grinned. "You love keeping me around."

"Well..." He made a show of considering it, tapping his chin before dramatically sighing. "I suppose you're tolerable."

I smacked his arm, making him chuckle.

He tilted his head, watching me fondly. "So? Since you're awake now. What do you want to do?"

I hummed, pretending to think before smirking. "Naked chess?"

The Doctor squinted. "But... that's just chess without our clothes on."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, as I just said, old man—naked chess."

His brow furrowed, confusion settling deep in his features. "But what's the difference? It's still the same game—"

"Oh my God, shut up," I groaned, cutting him off with a kiss.

He made a surprised noise, but it quickly melted into a pleased hum as he kissed me back, all warm and soft and utterly intoxicating. His hand slid up my spine, tangling into my long hair as he deepened it, as if he could pour all his endless, unspoken thoughts into me through the press of his lips.

We broke apart a moment later, and he exhaled, resting his forehead against mine. "You're physically human," he murmured, thumb grazing over my cheek. "But you've got an alien heart."

I blinked, caught off guard by the softness of his voice, by the way he said it like it was a fact he had always known.

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Then again," he muttered, "everyone's alien to me."

Something in my chest squeezed at the words—at the weight they carried. I knew that feeling, that ache of belonging and yet never quite belonging anywhere.

I smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. "Must be lonely, being the last TimeLord in the universe."

It was certainly lonely being the only Celestial half-breed in existence. But it was all I had ever known. I was a major improbability—I shouldn't exist.

The Doctor had known what it was like to love, to have a species—to lose it all.

His expression flickered, something wistful and knowing behind his eyes before he smirked. "Ah, but I've got you to keep me company."

I grinned, unable to stop myself. "Lucky you."

He scoffed. "Debatable."

I snorted, smacking his arm again before curling into him, letting the warmth of his body lull me into comfort.

We were both alien everywhere we went no matter what. We both existed between places, never quite meant to fit in anywhere except here.

With each other.

No, stop it, you idiot. That's just the afterglow of sex speaking. The Doctor doesn't even know I'm anything other than human. This isn't right, but why does it feel so good?

The thought nagged at me, but instead of spiraling, I tilted my head, watching the Doctor's face in the dim lighting. He was still holding me, still tracing mindless shapes along my back.

So I asked, my voice quiet, almost hesitant. "If the TimeLords were still around, would you be with them?"

His fingers paused for half a second before resuming their absent-minded movements. His expression didn't change much—just a thoughtful furrow of his brow, a subtle shift in the way his eyes flickered. He considered the question.

"Probably not," He admitted after a moment.

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound very sure."

It was hard to envision that the Doctor would not want to be with other TimeLords if given the opportunity.

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Oh, I am. Just not in the way you'd expect." His gaze drifted somewhere distant, lost in thought. "Don't get me wrong, I wish they were still here. I wish more than anything that Gallifrey was still there. But the thing is... I left. Before it burned." He sighed, rolling onto his back as he stared at the ceiling. "I never much liked the other TimeLords when they were around."

That made me pause. "Really?" I asked, surprise lacing my tone.

He nodded, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "They were so stuffy. Too wrapped up in their own self-importance, always looking down on the universe rather than being part of it. A whole planet full of beings who could travel anywhere, anywhen—and yet they hardly ever did. They just sat there. Watching. Meddling when they felt like it. And usually if they did it was never in a good way." He exhaled, shaking his head. "Even if Gallifrey still stood, even if I could go back, I... don't think I would. Not to stay, at least. I've always been a traveler by heart." He looked at me then, his gaze soft. "I belong in the stars. And I accepted that long ago.

Something warm bloomed in my chest at that. Of course, he did. He was never meant to be tied down. By anything, by anyone. He was the Doctor.

I reached for his hand without thinking, intertwining my fingers with his before lifting them to my lips. I kissed his knuckles, slow and deliberate, letting the moment stretch between us.

The Doctor blinked, visibly startled. His ears turned pink as he glanced away, suddenly shy. God, he was adorable.

I smirked. "So... Patience."

Patience... the name of the Doctor's wife on Gallifrey.

That got his attention. He turned back to me, brows raising. "And just how do you know my dead ex-wife's name, dearest?"

I shrugged. "I told you, I heard a lot about you when I was time-hopping with my Vortex Manipulator..."

The Doctor took the excuse for face value and scoffed. "Of course, you did—my own little fan..."

"Don't ever call me that again," I scowled before tilting my head, watching him closely. "But Patience was your wife, yeah?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Yeah." He admitted before shifting, propping himself up on his elbow. "I did love her. Very much. But it was still not as much as Patience deserved to be treasured..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I took her for granted, I should've been better..." he shook his head before clearing his throat. "There was always this... disconnect between us. It got worse the longer we were married. Like we were speaking the same language but never quite understanding each other. She did not like to leave the planet much—she didn't even like leaving the city..." He frowned. "And I loved traveling, even then. But, you know, we had our duties in Arcadia. We had thirteen children. And by the time they were all grown up and my darling Patience was gone... well." His lips twitched into a smile. "I stole a TARDIS, grabbed my granddaughter, and whisked us away for the ultimate adventure."

The Doctor, a man who had his secrets. A being who rarely opened up to others—I could see the relief in his face to finally be able to speak freely. Openly.

It hurt to know that he trusted me enough to tell me all this, things he rarely told anyone else these days. A favor that I couldn't return.

I smiled, listening intently. "Did you always plan on being gone forever?"

"Oh, not at first," The Doctor said, shaking his head. "We figured we'd be back in a few months. A year or two at the maximum. But then, well... look at me now." He grinned, throwing his arms out as if to present himself.

I chuckled, squeezing his hand. It meant something, that he was telling me all this. That he was being so open. But it also stung.

Because he trusted me with these pieces of himself. And I had barely told him anything real about me.

Still, I grinned and teased, "Well, there couldn't have been that much of a disconnect in your marriage."

He narrowed his eyes. "Oh?"

I smirked. "I mean, you did have thirteen kids. So, the sex must've been pretty good, at least."

That did it. His entire face flushed.

He choked. "I—what?! No! That's not—!" He waved his hands wildly, as if trying to physically swat away the implication.

I snickered. Too easy.

It was also hilarious considering how the Doctor was acting between the sheets just a little while ago. How this man could be so flustered about such a thing now of all times is beyond me. He is quite literally snuggling me naked post-coitus.

After a moment of flustered spluttering, he huffed, crossing his arms. "Actually, we didn't, er... we didn't couple in such a way very often."

I arched an eyebrow. "Seriously? But—"

"There are other ways for TimeLords to reproduce," he cut in, rubbing the back of his neck. "Many other ways, in fact. Sex—physical copulation, it was actually kind of rare among my people. We considered it archaic. A primitive pastime of raunchy indulgence that we no longer needed to submit to, let alone for child birth, what with our 'superior and progressive' methods of reproduction." He made air quotes. "But Patience always wanted to be a mother, she loved children to the point that she convinced me to have 13 with her... in so many different ways, she was very creative..." He scoffed a fond chuckle at the end, eyes faraway. "We only ever had two from intercourse—only two little ones that she herself carried, and trust me when I say that many ridiculed us for it... not that it mattered, it's what she wanted and therefore what I wanted..."

"13 children is kinda insane..." I blinked, fascinated and the Doctor gave a small smile at my words. "I'm sure you were a good father," I added.

The Doctor shrugged, lips pulling into a frown and gaze still a million miles away. "I certainly tried—loved them all to bits... but raising 13 little TimeLords isn't exactly easy... and Patience and I..."  he shook his head. "Me and her didn't always see eye-to-eye with our parenting methods. It made for a very interesting home life, to say the least..."

I smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder. "Okay, but I have to know. If you guys only ever had two children from sex then what are these other ways that Gallifreyans used to have children?"

He shrugged. "They're all very boring and scientific," he told me dismissively. "Gene splicing, loom matrices, womb-cradling, biogenic engineering... it's all very TimeLord-y." He waved a hand vaguely. "Besides, well, all of those methods are lost along with the rest of Gallifrey. Which means..." He smirked, suddenly poking my nose.

I wrinkled it on instinct. "What?"

His grin widened. "Which means that the only way I can have children now is the messy and gross old-fashioned way, so we need to be very careful."

I narrowed my eyes. "...What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing." His voice was mockingly casual, but there was a telltale glint in his eyes that suggested he wanted me to pry. "Just letting you know that there'll be no little babies for us." He reached up, tapping my forehead like I was the ridiculous one.

"A little forward, Doctor... the children talk already..." I whistled.

He flushed but shook his head. "Just making it known now. And I'll be sure to give you a contraceptive tea later. I certainly don't want a fifteenth child, can you imagine?! And at my age?!" He balked.

I blinked, thrown. "A fifteenth? But I thought you only had thirteen children—?"

The Doctor cut me off with a smirk, wagging his brows. "I did!"

I frowned. What? "Then what does that mean?"

He waggled his brows again, eyes twinkling mischievously.

I glared. "Doctor—"

"Not important!" He chirped, clapping his hands together before promptly rolling onto his back, looking far too pleased with himself.

I just stared at him. What the actual hell does that mean?! Was there a secret fourteenth child running around somewhere in time and space? A weird technicality? Some TimeLord nonsense he was deliberately leaving vague just to mess with me?

He smirked up at the ceiling like a cat that had just knocked something off a table on purpose.

"Oh my God," I groaned, flopping onto my stomach, muffling my face into the pillow. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," He sang, smug as ever.

I turned my head just enough to shoot him a glare. "Doctor."

He turned his head to meet my gaze, all wide-eyed innocence. "Yes, dearest?"

I lifted my head, now fully invested in solving this mystery. "You can't just drop something like that and not explain it."

"Oh, but I can."

I huffed. "Tell me what it means."

"Nope."

"Doctor—"

"PJ—" He mimicked in the exact same exasperated tone, grinning.

I scowled, shifting so I was leaning over him now. "Do I have to torture it out of you?"

He perked up at that, eyes gleaming. "Now isn't the time to be kinky, love."

I groaned again, dropping my forehead against his chest. Why do I even try?

I lifted my head from his chest, narrowing my eyes. "Okay, but how compatible are humans and TimeLords anyway?"

He turned his gaze back toward me, clearly intrigued by the shift in conversation. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you just said you'd give me a contraceptive drink, but how necessary is that, really?" I propped myself up on my elbow, studying him. "How likely is it for a TimeLord to actually get a human pregnant?"

The Doctor's eyebrows rose, and for a second, he seemed impressed by the question. "Ah, well..." He exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair as he mulled it over. "Not very likely. Not impossible, mind you, but incredibly rare. TimeLords and humans aren't exactly... biologically synchronized perfectly. Similarities? Yes, that's why it is possible. But it's not likely because there's too much genetic disparity in the coding." He explained.

"But you look so..." I paused. "Human..."

He smiled at me, eyes twinkling. "No, no, no..." the Doctor clicked. "You lot look TimeLord, we came first..." he waved. "And it doesn't matter how much we look alike—TimeLords regenerate, humans don't..." he muttered the last part uncomfortably before clearing his throat and shaking his head. "Therefore, when it comes to cross-breeding, we are left with only the scientific truth; possible but not probable..."

I wanted to ask him so many more questions. Talk about so many more things about this topic.

Possible but not probable.

Mostly—the chances of my existence. Because it was far more likely to have a half-human and half-TimeLord halfbreed than something like me. Half-Celestial, half-human... but, I couldn't. I settled myself—bit my tongue and chose a different question.

I frowned. "Then why even bother with the contraceptive drink?"

His grin faded slightly, his gaze becoming more serious. "Because 'low odds' doesn't mean no odds. And I'm not taking any chances. Not to mention for a human to give birth to a half-TimeLord... it's incredibly dangerous..."

Something about the way he said it—so final, so resolute—made my stomach flip. Not taking any chances, huh? That was interesting.

I mean—fair enough, the guy wants no more children. But listening to that last part of his sentence; I realized that he meant he didn't want to risk putting me at such risk. It was an oddly touching sentiment.

But then his expression suddenly changed, eyes narrowing just slightly as his brain clicked onto something else. "Actually..." His voice took on that sharp, analytical tone, the one he got when he was deducing something. I barely had time to brace before he was off. "You said 'human' just now."

I blinked. "What?"

"You said, and I quote: 'How likely is it for a TimeLord to get a human pregnant?'" He shifted suddenly, leaning up on one elbow, his green eyes locked onto mine with laser focus. "Not 'how likely is it for a TimeLord to get me pregnant?'"

My heart skipped a beat.

Shit.

His eyes gleamed. "Now, why would you phrase it like that, PJ?" His voice was light, but I could see the gears turning in his head, working through possibilities at impossible speed. "That's an odd distinction to make, isn't it? Almost as if..." He tilted his head, licking his lips. "Well, care to explain?"

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, forcing my muscles to stay loose, my breathing even. I had some choices—laugh it off, redirect, lie—or...

Or I could tell the truth.

A truth. A little truth that would give nothing bad away.

So I exhaled softly, let my body relax again, and said, "Yeah. Because I can't have children."

His entire expression shifted in an instant—his sharp curiosity softening into something warm, something deeply understanding. "Oh." His voice was quieter now. He reached up, brushing his fingers lightly over my arm. "How did you figure that?"

I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. "Because I'm infertile, Doctor. Always have been... it was a birth defect."

His face twisted in something unreadable for a second, like he didn't quite know what to do with the information.

"Well, have you ever wanted children?" He finally asked—eyes nervous but his tone genuinely curious. He licked his lips. "There are other ways to have children, almost anything is possible when time and space is at your fingertips..."

He was nervous that I would say yes. Because in his mind—yes—means one of the three things.

One; a glaringly obvious point being made about this—us—being temporary. Because if I wanted kids that badly then I would need to move on and find someone who would want to adopt and raise a child with me.

Two; he becomes stuck fathering another child—this time with me. A human. Even if it's not a child by birth.

Three; we stay together and I give up something I had always wanted, choosing him over any children.

The third was the least likely to happen because the Doctor, being who he is would rather sacrifice his own wants and happiness over someone else's.

However, the truth was easier than any of those options—none of those options would ever become true because I did not want children. Ever.

Even if I could have them by birth, I wouldn't want any.

There were many reasons for that. The biggest one being that I don't want to raise a child—let alone in this kind of a life.

"No," I snickered at the thought. "Never that..." I shook my head. "I hate kids..."

The Doctor laughed, but his eyes relaxed and screamed of relief. "You really don't..." He murmured knowingly.

"Just because I like the process of having children," I suggestively hummed, "Doesn't mean I like the outcome—thankfully, I'm in a unique position of never needing to deal with a potential outcome like that..." I said gratefully. "But fine, I guess kids aren't the worst, as long as I only need to deal with them every so often and don't need to worry about taking care of a mini-version of myself..." I shivered at the thought.

The Doctor was smiling in an amused manner, shaking his head fondly. His thumb traced absentminded circles on my skin. "Why didn't you ever tell me before now?" He finally asked quieter. "That you can't have kids?" He added. "Would've saved me a lot of time spent making contraception teas..."

"First of all, you like making tea, don't pretend it was an inconvenience," I rolled my eyes before deadpanning. "And I'm assuming I never told you because you just told me that I never told you. Which means now I can't tell your past self, which means I can't tell you."

He blinked. Stared at me. And then groaned, flopping onto his back with a thump, dramatically smacking his forehead.

I grinned. "Time travel's a bitch, huh?"

"Time travel is infuriating," He grumbled into his palm.

I laughed, shifting closer, resting my chin on his chest. "Aww, poor baby."

His hand dropped away from his face, revealing that familiar, impish glint in his eyes. "You are a menace," he hummed, suddenly rolling on top of me, pinning me beneath him with effortless ease. I sucked in a breath, taken off guard by how smooth the movement was. Since when was he this forward?

Before I could comment, he dipped his head, lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Although there is a plus side to this, you know."

I tilted my head slightly. "Oh?"

His voice dropped lower, silkier. "Mmm. Means we can have as much fun as we want, showcase love and affection in every possible way... without risk."

My skin flushed, a thrill shooting through me at the implication. "Without risk?"

He nodded, lips hovering just over my skin. "Without risk," he agreed, and before I could respond, he caught my lips in a deep, slow kiss, pressing his weight just enough to make my head spin.

My fingers curled into his shoulders, my body arching into him instinctively. His tongue brushed against mine, teasing, coaxing, and I swore I could feel the smirk against my mouth.

Oh, this bastard.

If this was his attempt to distract me from that mysterious fourteenth-child comment...

It was definitely working.

"This is a lot of kisses for a man who just told me that sex is archaic and primal and gross..." I breathed as he moved, kissing down my neck.

"Mmm," he mumbled against me. "Not with you, my human with an alien heart..."

I continued to rial him up. "You just told me you barely did this with your wife—"

"Ex-wife," He corrected. "Don't make me sound unfaithful..." he teased.

"Ex-wife," I rolled my eyes with a huff of a laugh, "And you blush and gag and get all uncomfortable when it's brought up, how are you so excited now? Is all just a facade for how pent-up you are?" I teased before I took a large intake at the way his teeth scrapped against my neck.

"Does this feel pent up to you?" He sarcastically asked before bumping my hip with his prominent and very bare erection.

"Yes," I groaned, sinking back into my pillow as he continued to grind his hardness against me. "Most definitely..."

"For you, perhaps," He finally said, "You make me crave you in every way possible," The Doctor hummed.

I hummed back, running my hands through his hair hair and looking into his eyes. "I mean, you're almost there—you've already mind fucked me," I rolled my eyes at the end.

The Doctor looked confused. "What? What do you mean?"

"Don't play coy, Doctor. The dreams..." He still looked lost at my words. "We literally just had one the last time we slept...! In the alleyway and then in that Viking-age prison... wow, that sounds so sus when I say it out loud, what is wrong with us?" I asked.

The Doctor's eyes lit up in recognition. "First of all, everything, dearest! Secondly," He scoffed a snicker as if my words were ridiculous. "That was hardly a mind-whatever it was you said,"

Amazing, even in these circumstances, the Doctor still does not use profane language.

I crossed my arms and rolled out from under him. "I am not letting you touch me until you say the word..."

The Doctor huffed, running both hands over his face in frustration. "What word?!"

I smirked, stretching out lazily on the sheets. "You know what I'm talking about, old man."

His hands dropped from his face as he leveled me with a look. "Oh, for the love of—I am a TimeLord, a scholar, a being of intellect and sophistication, I will not—"

"Say it."

"—be coerced into using some crude human term for—"

"Say. It."

He huffed again, looking thoroughly put out. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because," I said primly, rolling onto my side, "you saying 'mind-whatever' is the cringiest thing I've ever heard, and I refuse to let it slide."

He scoffed. "You saying 'mind fuck' is the cringiest thing ever!"

"Ha! You said it!" I pointed at him triumphantly.

He didn't say the word fuck often, so anytime I had the opportunity to hear him say it, I was taking it.

The Doctor groaned, collapsing onto his back as he dramatically threw an arm over his eyes. "Ugh. Fine. Are you happy?"

"Very."

"Good. Can I touch you now?"

I smirked, enjoying the little game, the power shift between us, the way he was already leaning toward me with intent, eyes dark with something heady and wanting.

"Whatever you want, Space Lord."

In a blink, he was over me again, pinning me down against the sheets with a feverish kiss. His mouth was desperate, demanding, stealing the breath straight from my lungs as his body pressed against mine, all heat and firmness and want. His hands roamed, teasing and mapping familiar curves, as he rutted against me, his excitement evident and insistent.

I could feel his pre-cum leaking from the soft tip of his member.

I moaned against his lips, arching into him, letting my hands wander into his hair, twisting in the mess of it to keep him close.

"What we did before," he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with amusement and hunger, "was hardly me taking you by the mind." I barely had a moment to register his words before he added, "But I'll show you what's it like to have a TimeLord have his way with your mind."

I opened my mouth to respond—probably to tease him again, to make some quip about him once again not saying it—but before I could, he was shifting, moving, pressing his hardness inside of me in one swift motion, knocking the air from my lungs.

I gasped at the intrusion, the Doctor filling me so completely it was glorious. He gave a powerful thrust, smirking at the fact that I was already wet and we'd barely done anything leading up to this.

At the same time, he pressed his forehead to mine, and suddenly—oh.

OH.

My vision flared gold and white, the world spinning into something new and overwhelming, pleasure rippling through every nerve like a supernova. Sensation blurred at the edges of my mind, too much and not enough, my thoughts tangling with his in a way I could barely comprehend.

This was something else entirely.

This was a different kind of intimacy.

And I was helpless to do anything but fall into it.

The moment his forehead pressed to mine, reality unraveled.

A golden light flared behind my eyes, swallowing the room, the bed, the air itself. For a brief second, I felt weightless, suspended in something infinite, something vast and unknowable. My body trembled, pleasure surging through me in relentless waves, but it wasn't just physical—it was mental, metaphysical, something beyond any experience I could have ever imagined.

I gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets, in his hair, in nothing at all. I could feel him inside me, moving with deep, deliberate thrusts, singing of pleasure with every movement. But it was more than that—so much more. He was inside my mind, pouring through me, threading his essence into every corner of my consciousness. There was no division between thought and touch, between body and soul. Every pulse of pleasure, every sensation, every delicious friction was mirrored in the mindscape we now shared, layered upon itself in a way that left me dizzy and breathless.

His pleasure was my pleasure, my pleasure was his pleasure—we are each other's.

And then I was standing.

I blinked, disoriented, finding myself alone in a vast, endless space. There was no true sky, no walls, just a soft, glowing expanse that felt infinite. Before me stood a tall mirror, its surface rippling like liquid silver.

I was naked.

Completely, utterly bare.

I should have been self-conscious, but I wasn't. The air, or non-air, whatever it was provided warmth against my skin, humming with an energy that made my nerves tingle, my heartbeat thrum. I stared at my reflection, watching the way the golden light played across my skin, making me look like something celestial, something untouchable.

Suddenly the Doctor was there.

Not beside me.

Behind the glass of the mirror.

He stood on the other side of the mirror, fully clothed, tweed jacket, and all while watching me with that infuriating smirk of his. His eyes raked over me, burning and dark and knowing, a contrast to the usual wide-eyed, bumbling chaos he wore in the waking world.

"You never mentioned," he said, voice smooth as silk, "that you were a virgin of the mind."

A shiver ran down my spine.

I don't even know what that means.

His expression shifted to considering. "But I suppose it makes sense, you're still human, I should have figured... but then again you're you, and I would've thought you to have already explored such a thing..."

I've never let anyone in like I do the Doctor.

I swallowed, overwhelmed in the best way possible, and found myself teasing, if only to ground myself. "Are you telling me that you've taken my mind virginity?"

His smirk widened.

Without another word, he stepped forward—and through the mirror.

The liquid-silver glass parted like water, and then he was in front of me, real and solid and so, so close. His hands found my hips, fingers digging in just enough to make my breath hitch. He pulled me flush against him, tilting his head down, lips hovering just over mine.

"I am actively in the process, lovely." He murmured. "I'll make sure to be gentle... don't want to send you into a pleasure-induced coma..."

And then he kissed me.

The moment his lips met mine, the world around us shattered.

I fell—no, we fell—back into the physical, back into sensation. But there was no distinction between the mind and the body anymore. It was all one.

I felt him pounding into me, deep and hard and relentless, each thrust pushing pleasure through every inch of my being like a solar flare. I could even hear the bed creaking with our movements.

But at the same time, I could see it, feel it on a level that had nothing to do with flesh. The pleasure crashed through my mind like a star being born, electric and searing, leaving me raw and exposed in the most intoxicating way.

I could do nothing but tremble, my body twitching helplessly beneath him, my lips parted in breathless, wordless cries. My fingers clawed at his back, desperate for something, anything, to anchor me, but there was no anchoring—there was only falling.

His mind wrapped around mine, weaving together in ways I didn't fully understand. His pleasure was my pleasure, his desire my own. The sensation doubled, tripled, multiplied into something immeasurable.

It built.

And built.

And built.

Until...

For a brief, endless moment, everything paused.

And then I stopped falling because he caught me. He anchored me to him in all the ways mattered.

The heat, the movement, the tension coiled to its breaking point—and then I saw him.

Not as a man.

Not as flesh and blood.

But as stardust.

As something infinite and ancient, with skin that shimmered like nebulae and eyes that held galaxies. And I was the same.

We were not two.

We were one.

And then our universe exploded.

Stars burst behind my eyes, golden light swallowing me whole. My body convulsed, shaking from the sheer, unrelenting force of it, every nerve set alight in overwhelming ecstasy. I gasped his name, breathless and wrecked, clutching at him as bliss roared through me in endless, rolling waves.

I could hear him groaning—whimpering as he continued to bury himself in me. Over and over—relentless.

I could only hear his name, see his name, say his name, feel his name. His real name, like the proper name that would shatter universes if I said it out loud anywhere apart from this moment.

Everything else melted away.

His name.

It was carved into me, burned into the very fabric of my being, a sound too vast for the human tongue to hold but still pouring from my lips in desperate, breathless gasps. I clung to it like a lifeline, like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to existence as the pleasure kept going, cresting higher and higher. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

The Doctor yelled—loudly. A broken noise. One last thrust.

Another wave hit.

Another shattering burst of pleasure as the Doctor released into me, into everything, sending my mind spiraling into an endless starfield of white-hot bliss. I felt it physically, mentally, every nerve inside me screaming as my entire body seized with the sheer force of it. It was beyond anything I'd ever experienced, beyond anything I could describe. My mouth fell open in a silent cry, my limbs twitching, back arching, my thoughts dissolving into nothing but raw sensation.

It was too much.

It was everything.

It was terrifying.

And yet, I trusted him. I trusted him.

His presence surrounded me, wrapped around me, cradled me even as I shattered apart. He wouldn't let me go too far, wouldn't let me slip away into oblivion. The tether between us held strong, keeping me safe, keeping me his.

But his name—his true name—stayed at the forefront of my thoughts, pulsing with the aftershocks, seared into my consciousness like it had always been there, waiting for me.

But then it started to fade.

I tried to hold onto it, tried to grasp it even as my mind sluggishly fought to keep up, but it was slipping through my fingers like sand. I had it, I knew it, I had said it, but now... now it was gone.

Vanishing from my mind like a dream upon waking.

I gasped in horror, my breath stuttering, my body still trembling from the aftershocks as I clawed at the remnants of it. No, no, no, I just had it—! But it was already dissolving, unraveling, the memory of it softening, dulling, erasing itself until all that was left was a vague, empty space where something magnificent had once been.

A TimeLord trick.

A carefully constructed failsafe, put into place for me, for my safety, for reasons I could feel through the lingering hum of our connection.

He did this on purpose. Made me forget it.

And yet, I couldn't even bring myself to be angry.

Because I could barely think.

I was trembling, wrecked, lying there in the tangled sheets, stripped raw and open and bare in ways that had nothing to do with nudity. My body ached, but not in a way I recognized. A deep, encompassing soreness settled into my limbs, my muscles exhausted in a way I had never experienced before. My chest heaved as I tried to steady my breathing, as I tried to grasp onto something solid, but I couldn't move.

And he was there.

Right there, gathering me into his arms before I even realized I needed him to.

I shuddered, tears of joy and sorrow and love falling from my eyes as his hands ghosted over my skin, soft now, so gentle, soothing away the aftershocks with slow, reverent touches. I barely registered the way he curled himself around me, tucking me against his chest, his lips pressing delicate kisses to my forehead, my temple, my hair.

He'd since disconnected himself from me physically. There was hot fluid inside of me, I could feel it, both mine and his. And yet, I did not care.

His voice was tender.

"It's okay, dearest..." he murmured, brushing his fingers through my damp hair. "You're okay. I've got you. Just breathe."

"More, more, more..." I trembled, my voice breaking and my world spinning. "Please—Doctor... I want more..."

He held me tighter, rocking me. "Hush now, you don't need more... I don't think you even really want more, pretty girl... the effects are just a bit—ah—emotional..." He whispered against me. "Come down from it, you can do it... breathe, Cooper," He too, sounded out of breath and slightly overwhelmed, but he was holding it together for me.

I tried to breathe, to calm.

But it still felt like I was floating somewhere between space and time, but his voice was grounding, his presence safe.

"You did so good," the Doctor whispered a moment later, and his tone made something in my chest ache. "We did so, so good, my love."

Slowly, I came down—the spinning coming to a standstill, and the incessant chirping for more fading away.

"That was gentle?" I breathed a shocked laugh, tears slowing.

I rubbed them away, the Doctor helped as well—stroking my cheek as he did so. I realized that his eyes appeared quite glossy too.

The Doctor then gave a small chuckle in response. "Very gentle," He affirmed, still holding me. "You'll see how much more intense it can get one day..."

I barely managed to hum in response, my body melting further into his as my exhaustion caught up with me. The warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his hearts, the soft cadence of his voice—it was lulling me, pulling me under.

"Oh, how I adore you..." He breathed against my skin, kissing the side of my head. "Now, go back to sleep..." He added amused. "I think I've tired you out well enough."

"I adore you too..." I drowsily muttered back, closing my eyes and breathing deeply as I allowed myself to rest and fall toward sleep. "I really really do..."