IT'S VAG FEST '09 BBS.
Thought today was as good a day as any to start this? Especially since people are off work and stuff. So, participate dammit! :P
♀Vagina Fest '09!♥There is a seriously lack of female love going on in fandom lately. There's nothing wrong with slash, boy loving is hot and great and all but there is literally (pun intended) buttloads of it out there ( Read more... )
♀Vagina Fest '09!♥There is a seriously lack of female love going on in fandom lately. There's nothing wrong with slash, boy loving is hot and great and all but there is literally (pun intended) buttloads of it out there ( Read more... )
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It's been a long time in coming, in his defense. So many shipboard "nights" when he had to physically stop himself from going into her room and waking her with his touch, so many days spent with one hand wrapped around hers and the other clenched so tightly his fingernails dug into his palm as he tried to control his need for her.
He can't stop himself now. Maybe it's her scent, fresh from bed. Maybe it's her rumpled hair and sleep-fogged eyes. The last functioning bit of his analytical brain decides it doesn't really matter.
He kisses her again and again and again, forcing her lips open, tasting her toothpaste, the remnants of the cherry lipgloss she wore yesterday, and Rose. There's an odd, helpless, needy sound in his ears, and he realizes it's coming from his own throat. He can't stop this ( ... )
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Oh, but as always with your Nine/Rose smut, I'm left wanting more. :P
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Her glass of apple juice is overshadowed by another glass of apple juice, or maybe it was orange juice, in another diner, in another city. She runs her fingers along the cool of the glass and sees the time before or the time before that (or the time after) when he talked about specters or vampires or other creatures that stalked the night or stalked dreams. She said, Or there's another explanation, but not in so many words and he asked her if she wanted another glass.
Now, she stifles a yawn and he says, "Maybe I should drive." She suggests that they just find a room for the night, then wonders if she meant that literally. Do they only need one room?
"You know I'm right, Scully," he says at the door of her room (separate from his) and she takes a breath and lets her body rock a little closer to his before she says goodnight.
There were other cheap motel rooms and other late-night diners in the past and in the future. Sometimes she thinks life is just an infinite loop, or a tape played backwards.
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