Ten/Rose - Some Mornings - R
Some Mornings
R
Ten/Rose
vylentcrymz requested a Ten/Rose drabble and it turned into a ficlet. :) My first Dr Who fic, be gentle.
Rose likes to nick one of his shirts to sleep in. She doesn't try to hide this fact and she often wanders about the TARDIS just before she goes to bed, teasing him with glimpses of her bare legs. And in the morning, she'll find him lounging in the control room and slouch beside him, draping those very same legs across his lap.
He's fascinated by the skin just above her knee and he runs his finger over it until Rose's nervous giggle makes him pull back reluctantly.
But there are some mornings when he doesn't stop. He doesn't want to stop. He keeps touching her, hand sliding around to cup the underside of her thigh. His body thrums with need, wanting Rose, only Rose, and he finds his other hand pushing the shirt up over her stomach, desperate to see her.
There are so many things to learn about her. The sound of her moans, the way her hands grip his hair roughly, the taste of her skin, oh that taste. He can't get enough of it and he doesn't even want to try and stop, so he nips at the tops of her breasts, licks up over her shoulder and neck, eventually capturing her lips with his own, drowning in the sweetness of her mouth.
His Rose, yes, his Rose, shifts against him, parting her legs so he can move between them, and she fumbles with the fly of his trousers. He loves her for it and he tells her so.
He thrusts into her with a whimper, a plea, a promise, anything that will let him stay like this forever. She urges him on, kissing his chin and murmuring that she loves him over and over again, making sure he's heard it and won't ever forget.
His tie dangles between them as he hovers over her and she grabs it and puuulllllsss until it's tight against his neck.
A sloppy kiss near the corner of her mouth is all he can offer as he comes with a shudder.
R
Ten/Rose
vylentcrymz requested a Ten/Rose drabble and it turned into a ficlet. :) My first Dr Who fic, be gentle.
Rose likes to nick one of his shirts to sleep in. She doesn't try to hide this fact and she often wanders about the TARDIS just before she goes to bed, teasing him with glimpses of her bare legs. And in the morning, she'll find him lounging in the control room and slouch beside him, draping those very same legs across his lap.
He's fascinated by the skin just above her knee and he runs his finger over it until Rose's nervous giggle makes him pull back reluctantly.
But there are some mornings when he doesn't stop. He doesn't want to stop. He keeps touching her, hand sliding around to cup the underside of her thigh. His body thrums with need, wanting Rose, only Rose, and he finds his other hand pushing the shirt up over her stomach, desperate to see her.
There are so many things to learn about her. The sound of her moans, the way her hands grip his hair roughly, the taste of her skin, oh that taste. He can't get enough of it and he doesn't even want to try and stop, so he nips at the tops of her breasts, licks up over her shoulder and neck, eventually capturing her lips with his own, drowning in the sweetness of her mouth.
His Rose, yes, his Rose, shifts against him, parting her legs so he can move between them, and she fumbles with the fly of his trousers. He loves her for it and he tells her so.
He thrusts into her with a whimper, a plea, a promise, anything that will let him stay like this forever. She urges him on, kissing his chin and murmuring that she loves him over and over again, making sure he's heard it and won't ever forget.
His tie dangles between them as he hovers over her and she grabs it and puuulllllsss until it's tight against his neck.
A sloppy kiss near the corner of her mouth is all he can offer as he comes with a shudder.