starry eyed - eleven/amy
A post in which Megan felt like writing smut...which happens sometimes.
Weird.
Maybe I should join the Doctor Who kink community and party with my fellow perverts.
Inspired by this video: starry eyed
that you should all watch.
"I'm 907, do you know what that means?"
"It's been a while?"
"Yea--no! No!"
Amy took advantage of his confusion and kissed him again. She was pleased that he relaxed a little bit this time, his lips falling into natural rhythms with hers.
"Oh, Pond. You, maddening creature, you." He muttered against her lips. He seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing and he jerked away.
"No no! Pond. This can't work. This won't ever work. You're human"
"So is River." She said, licking her lips for a moment, "And you've got a future with her, yeah?"
The Doctor opened his mouth struggling for words to try and explain that this can't happen. He shouldn't let it. (He wants it but that doesn't make it right)
"And all I want is one night, Doctor." Amy said, leveling her eyes with his. Amy smirked and moved away from him then, plopping onto her bed and leaning back, putting on what she hoped was her sexiest pose and raised eyebrow. The Doctor gripped the bar at the end of her bed and studied her carefully.
She could see his internal conflict dancing about in his eyes.
Desire versus Morals. Temptation versus Lust. The consequences (what consequences, anyways? As long as it stayed their little secret and the Doctor was rather good at keeping those.) This was her last night as a free woman. She didn't have a hen party, she had no girlfriends to do such a thing. Rory was at his stag, drinking, probably getting a lap dance...
He was having his fun.
She wanted to have hers.
"Are you sure? I mean, absolutely sure, because...because...I can't go back - I can't...rewrite it, if it happens." The Doctor kept looking at her face and then to the floor. She was reminded of a young boy, nervous, and worried, and for the moment; The Doctor looked like a young man and not a wise, venerable alien.
Amy reached for the hem of her red jumper and she pulls it over her head and chucks it at him.
He laughed as it hit his face, but the laugh quickly fades when he sees her in nothing more but her skirt, tights, muddy trainers (why is she wearing shoes? ) and a little black bra. The Doctor cleared his throat and slowly circles around the bed and sits beside her.
Amy sighed, sitting up, she places her hands on his shoulders and guides him towards her. Their lips meet again, this time, it's slow and soft. Tender.
He's pleasantly surprised at how this feels; it's nice--but there is that part of him that is disgusted with himself for doing this, for embracing the moment and embracing her. He's a Time Lord. He's 907 years old. He should be above this. His big brilliant mind should be able to block out hormones.
But, its not his fault that the first thing he woke up to were a pair of long, long legs attached to a very feisty redhead. You always did have a soft-spot for redheads, didn't you? All that fire, personality, just mad-mad energy sparking and combusting like a school science project.
The Doctor, hesitantly, opened his mouth up for her and she quickly took advantage. Her tongue dipping in and tasting him, her whole body shivering with the sensation; he tastes like starlight and eternity.
Amy's kiss is ever-true to her character; it's a little frantic, like he'll just disappear if she stops for breath. And its warm.
The Doctor's hand finally moved from his lap and he wrapped his fingers around Amy's arm, lightly, carefully, like he too is afraid she's going to disappear at any moment. He could kiss her for hours. Respiratory by-pass system and all that. Very useful. But, Amy, is not of the same biology--and she broke away for the spiteful need of air.
Amy can feel that her cheeks are flushed and so far, neither of them have said a word; But that's because we don't need to.
Sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll find a person in this great big-universe where words are completely unnecessary. Where your eyes and your actions tell them so much more. Where they can understand you with a small smile or just with a look.
The Doctor's lips turned upward for a moment and then he kissed her forehead affectionately. The Doctor kicked off his boots and they landed with a thud on the floor. Amy followed his lead and unlaced her shoes before tossing them to her floor.
"Okay..." The Doctor breathed out, his breath washing over the side of her face.
"Okay..." She repeated and her hands went to work trying to untie his bow tie. She would rather like it if his clothes were off...you know...now.
The Doctor nuzzled the side of her neck, laughing into her skin, "Having some trouble, Pond?"
"How the hell do you get this off?"
"We could always leave it on..." The Doctor suggested as his lips trailed up her neck and behind her ear. Amy titled her head back, lost, for a moment, in the feel of his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on her skin. Her skin. His lips. She never dreamed this would actually happen.
"No, we are not." She mumbled as she came back to her sense. The Doctor's lips left her neck and he sat up for a moment, his own hands untying the bow tie and the unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.
"Better, Miss Pond?"
"Mmm." Amy leaned up and finished unbuttoning his top so she could push it off his shoulders.
The Doctor's hands settled on her waist, Oh god, Amy, I never noticed...you have such soft skin. So pale, too. He kissed her shoulder haphazardly. So, there they were, the two time travelers, kneeling on Amy's bed and completely lost in each other.
The Doctor was positive that if a dalek fleet showed up, he'd finish kissing Amy before he gave them even a moment of his time.
Amy's hands slipped around his back, her fingers dragging against his skin, feeling the muscles and tendons, the bones. She felt his ribcage and back up to his chest, feeling his heartbeats, the roundness of his shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his neck; she was committing all of it to memory.
The Doctor buried his face in Amy's hair, earning a giggle from his red haired companion, and he took a deep breath. You are so lovely, so magnificent, and I'm sorry I left you behind. I'm sorry I keep doing it. The angels, oh, Amelia, if I had lost you...
He kissed her ear. His hands slowly, tormentingly slow, ghosted over the skin of her stomach and then around her back. Amy's bra joined the pile of clothing on the floor.
Amy groaned at the feeling of his skin, his body, touching hers. She kissed his collar bone and then peered up at him, the Doctor seemed lost in his thoughts, lost in her, as his hands mapped out her stomach and chest. He felt the weight of her gaze and without hesitation he kissed her again--differently than the last time. There was more urgency, more pressure, and Amy leaned back onto the bed with one hand tangled in his hair.
He was the first to break the kiss and he looked at her, really, really, looked at her. His eyes darkened, hair mussed, and lips parted. She wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to kiss him until her lungs burned with oxygen deprivation. Then she saw what he was trying to tell her, his hands resting on her thighs, and his body perfectly still.
He's giving you a chance to run. To change your mind. Silly, Doctor. What makes you think I would stop now.
Amy placed her hands over his and guided him forward, her skirt hiking up a few inches, and their eyes never wavering from one another. The Doctor gave her a quick, small smile before his hands traveled up the rest of the way and he peeled off her tights.
Amy's heart was thudding in her chest, pounding against her ribcage, and she was nervous and excited and ohgodDoctorkeepdoingthatwithyourmouth. She kicked off her skirt, her mouth joining his again, and she brought his lower lip into her mouth and bit down softly. The Doctor moaned in response, his hands splaying across her back. He draws her to him, pressing their bodies impeccably close, as if they'll just melt together.
Amy blindly searched for the zipper on his trousers because if this man-time lord-makes her wait one more bloody second she's going to burst.
"Patience, Pond." He whispered into her ear.
"I've had enough of a lesson in patience, thank you very much." She grumbled and the Doctor kissed her neck, a silent apology, before he pulls away. She's greeted by the sight of his surprisingly purple briefs before those are tossed to the floor with her own knickers.
The Doctor leaned his forehead against hers, one hand on her hip and the other cupping her face. Amy swallowed. The Doctor lowered his mouth, kissing the side of her neck, her collarbone, tiny kisses all over her chest, and then he drags that mouth back up and captures her lips, tongue exploring and teeth nipping and holy-hell Amelia Pond has never been kissed like this.
If this is what madness feels like, oh, I do not want to be sane
There is this moment before he enters her, where he takes her hand in his and squeezes and Amy thinks its the most tender, heart-breaking thing she's ever been a part of. The Doctor groaned, his forehead resting on her shoulder, because oh god, he can't take this back now and it's happening and he's not letting the guilt take over because there is this twisting, wonderful feeling in his gut.
He doesn't want it to end.
Amy dug her fingernails into his scalp, holding onto a fistfull of his hair, and her other still squeezing his. She felt like if she didn't cling to something, cling to him, she'd float away in a sea of euphoria. He kissed her, drinking in her soft mewls, letting his instinct take over his judgement and just letting this happen and making it glorious, fantastic, so she'll never forget it.
Amy rocked her hips, her mouth brushing against his from time to time when he's not kissing her.
The Doctor keeps repeating her name and Amy's found that she rather likes the sound, the way, he says her name. His hand traveled down between their joined bodies and Amy's eyes squeezed shut. His breath is coming out in short and jagged breaths against her skin and Amy can't hold it together anymore; she bursts, comes undone at the seams, the world igniting with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.
The Doctor muttered something in a language that Amy can't identify and maybe the TARDIS doesn't want to translate it.
He rested his head in the crook of her neck, the salt-sting bothering his eyes, but he needed this; he needs this moment. Amy is feeling boneless, limp, content. Her nerve endings still shocked and sensitive. Her body tingling, heart racing, and her mind storing away the memory in some safe and secret place.
The Doctor lifted his head and placed a chaste kiss to her lips.
He looked down at her fondly, a small smile on his face and Amy can't help but smile back. His hair is damp and the fringe is hanging in front of his eyes. There's a red mark on his neck from where she placed a love bite. One that she hopes can't be covered by his collar.
Amy doesn't expect him to stay when he withdrew from her, she expects him to tell her to pick up her clothes and they have to get back in the TARDIS and do more life-saving!
Much to her surprise; he does stay. Of course, he put back on his shirt, purple briefs and trousers.
He laid next to her, pulling the covers over her rapidly-cooling skin, and kissed her temple.
"We don't have to...go save someone? Ship on fire? Distress signal? Cat stuck in a tree?"
"Amy, I don't know if you realize it, but you've had an eventful day with barely any sleep. We've been gone five minutes, yes, but you're body needs to rest."
Now, that she's thinking about it, he's right; she tired. Both from that happy, sleepy, after-glow kind of way and the 'god I have been running for my life for hours today' kind of way.
"Yeah..." Amy yawned despite her best efforts. "You gonna be here when I wake up?" She asked, pulling the covers to her chin and rolling over on her side so her body was facing him.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Would you like me to be?"
Amy blushed.
"Go to sleep." He grinned, not giving her a straight answer.
(Amy knows him well enough to know that he doesn't stay the whole night. But he is there when she opens her eyes, he's leaning against the TARDIS with a cup of tea in his hands, and he just says; "Okay, Pond. Now that you're all rested and sexually satisfied. Where do you want to go next?" )
Weird.
Maybe I should join the Doctor Who kink community and party with my fellow perverts.
Inspired by this video: starry eyed
that you should all watch.
"I'm 907, do you know what that means?"
"It's been a while?"
"Yea--no! No!"
Amy took advantage of his confusion and kissed him again. She was pleased that he relaxed a little bit this time, his lips falling into natural rhythms with hers.
"Oh, Pond. You, maddening creature, you." He muttered against her lips. He seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing and he jerked away.
"No no! Pond. This can't work. This won't ever work. You're human"
"So is River." She said, licking her lips for a moment, "And you've got a future with her, yeah?"
The Doctor opened his mouth struggling for words to try and explain that this can't happen. He shouldn't let it. (He wants it but that doesn't make it right)
"And all I want is one night, Doctor." Amy said, leveling her eyes with his. Amy smirked and moved away from him then, plopping onto her bed and leaning back, putting on what she hoped was her sexiest pose and raised eyebrow. The Doctor gripped the bar at the end of her bed and studied her carefully.
She could see his internal conflict dancing about in his eyes.
Desire versus Morals. Temptation versus Lust. The consequences (what consequences, anyways? As long as it stayed their little secret and the Doctor was rather good at keeping those.) This was her last night as a free woman. She didn't have a hen party, she had no girlfriends to do such a thing. Rory was at his stag, drinking, probably getting a lap dance...
He was having his fun.
She wanted to have hers.
"Are you sure? I mean, absolutely sure, because...because...I can't go back - I can't...rewrite it, if it happens." The Doctor kept looking at her face and then to the floor. She was reminded of a young boy, nervous, and worried, and for the moment; The Doctor looked like a young man and not a wise, venerable alien.
Amy reached for the hem of her red jumper and she pulls it over her head and chucks it at him.
He laughed as it hit his face, but the laugh quickly fades when he sees her in nothing more but her skirt, tights, muddy trainers (why is she wearing shoes? ) and a little black bra. The Doctor cleared his throat and slowly circles around the bed and sits beside her.
Amy sighed, sitting up, she places her hands on his shoulders and guides him towards her. Their lips meet again, this time, it's slow and soft. Tender.
He's pleasantly surprised at how this feels; it's nice--but there is that part of him that is disgusted with himself for doing this, for embracing the moment and embracing her. He's a Time Lord. He's 907 years old. He should be above this. His big brilliant mind should be able to block out hormones.
But, its not his fault that the first thing he woke up to were a pair of long, long legs attached to a very feisty redhead. You always did have a soft-spot for redheads, didn't you? All that fire, personality, just mad-mad energy sparking and combusting like a school science project.
The Doctor, hesitantly, opened his mouth up for her and she quickly took advantage. Her tongue dipping in and tasting him, her whole body shivering with the sensation; he tastes like starlight and eternity.
Amy's kiss is ever-true to her character; it's a little frantic, like he'll just disappear if she stops for breath. And its warm.
The Doctor's hand finally moved from his lap and he wrapped his fingers around Amy's arm, lightly, carefully, like he too is afraid she's going to disappear at any moment. He could kiss her for hours. Respiratory by-pass system and all that. Very useful. But, Amy, is not of the same biology--and she broke away for the spiteful need of air.
Amy can feel that her cheeks are flushed and so far, neither of them have said a word; But that's because we don't need to.
Sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll find a person in this great big-universe where words are completely unnecessary. Where your eyes and your actions tell them so much more. Where they can understand you with a small smile or just with a look.
The Doctor's lips turned upward for a moment and then he kissed her forehead affectionately. The Doctor kicked off his boots and they landed with a thud on the floor. Amy followed his lead and unlaced her shoes before tossing them to her floor.
"Okay..." The Doctor breathed out, his breath washing over the side of her face.
"Okay..." She repeated and her hands went to work trying to untie his bow tie. She would rather like it if his clothes were off...you know...now.
The Doctor nuzzled the side of her neck, laughing into her skin, "Having some trouble, Pond?"
"How the hell do you get this off?"
"We could always leave it on..." The Doctor suggested as his lips trailed up her neck and behind her ear. Amy titled her head back, lost, for a moment, in the feel of his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on her skin. Her skin. His lips. She never dreamed this would actually happen.
"No, we are not." She mumbled as she came back to her sense. The Doctor's lips left her neck and he sat up for a moment, his own hands untying the bow tie and the unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.
"Better, Miss Pond?"
"Mmm." Amy leaned up and finished unbuttoning his top so she could push it off his shoulders.
The Doctor's hands settled on her waist, Oh god, Amy, I never noticed...you have such soft skin. So pale, too. He kissed her shoulder haphazardly. So, there they were, the two time travelers, kneeling on Amy's bed and completely lost in each other.
The Doctor was positive that if a dalek fleet showed up, he'd finish kissing Amy before he gave them even a moment of his time.
Amy's hands slipped around his back, her fingers dragging against his skin, feeling the muscles and tendons, the bones. She felt his ribcage and back up to his chest, feeling his heartbeats, the roundness of his shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his neck; she was committing all of it to memory.
The Doctor buried his face in Amy's hair, earning a giggle from his red haired companion, and he took a deep breath. You are so lovely, so magnificent, and I'm sorry I left you behind. I'm sorry I keep doing it. The angels, oh, Amelia, if I had lost you...
He kissed her ear. His hands slowly, tormentingly slow, ghosted over the skin of her stomach and then around her back. Amy's bra joined the pile of clothing on the floor.
Amy groaned at the feeling of his skin, his body, touching hers. She kissed his collar bone and then peered up at him, the Doctor seemed lost in his thoughts, lost in her, as his hands mapped out her stomach and chest. He felt the weight of her gaze and without hesitation he kissed her again--differently than the last time. There was more urgency, more pressure, and Amy leaned back onto the bed with one hand tangled in his hair.
He was the first to break the kiss and he looked at her, really, really, looked at her. His eyes darkened, hair mussed, and lips parted. She wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to kiss him until her lungs burned with oxygen deprivation. Then she saw what he was trying to tell her, his hands resting on her thighs, and his body perfectly still.
He's giving you a chance to run. To change your mind. Silly, Doctor. What makes you think I would stop now.
Amy placed her hands over his and guided him forward, her skirt hiking up a few inches, and their eyes never wavering from one another. The Doctor gave her a quick, small smile before his hands traveled up the rest of the way and he peeled off her tights.
Amy's heart was thudding in her chest, pounding against her ribcage, and she was nervous and excited and ohgodDoctorkeepdoingthatwithyourmouth. She kicked off her skirt, her mouth joining his again, and she brought his lower lip into her mouth and bit down softly. The Doctor moaned in response, his hands splaying across her back. He draws her to him, pressing their bodies impeccably close, as if they'll just melt together.
Amy blindly searched for the zipper on his trousers because if this man-time lord-makes her wait one more bloody second she's going to burst.
"Patience, Pond." He whispered into her ear.
"I've had enough of a lesson in patience, thank you very much." She grumbled and the Doctor kissed her neck, a silent apology, before he pulls away. She's greeted by the sight of his surprisingly purple briefs before those are tossed to the floor with her own knickers.
The Doctor leaned his forehead against hers, one hand on her hip and the other cupping her face. Amy swallowed. The Doctor lowered his mouth, kissing the side of her neck, her collarbone, tiny kisses all over her chest, and then he drags that mouth back up and captures her lips, tongue exploring and teeth nipping and holy-hell Amelia Pond has never been kissed like this.
If this is what madness feels like, oh, I do not want to be sane
There is this moment before he enters her, where he takes her hand in his and squeezes and Amy thinks its the most tender, heart-breaking thing she's ever been a part of. The Doctor groaned, his forehead resting on her shoulder, because oh god, he can't take this back now and it's happening and he's not letting the guilt take over because there is this twisting, wonderful feeling in his gut.
He doesn't want it to end.
Amy dug her fingernails into his scalp, holding onto a fistfull of his hair, and her other still squeezing his. She felt like if she didn't cling to something, cling to him, she'd float away in a sea of euphoria. He kissed her, drinking in her soft mewls, letting his instinct take over his judgement and just letting this happen and making it glorious, fantastic, so she'll never forget it.
Amy rocked her hips, her mouth brushing against his from time to time when he's not kissing her.
The Doctor keeps repeating her name and Amy's found that she rather likes the sound, the way, he says her name. His hand traveled down between their joined bodies and Amy's eyes squeezed shut. His breath is coming out in short and jagged breaths against her skin and Amy can't hold it together anymore; she bursts, comes undone at the seams, the world igniting with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.
The Doctor muttered something in a language that Amy can't identify and maybe the TARDIS doesn't want to translate it.
He rested his head in the crook of her neck, the salt-sting bothering his eyes, but he needed this; he needs this moment. Amy is feeling boneless, limp, content. Her nerve endings still shocked and sensitive. Her body tingling, heart racing, and her mind storing away the memory in some safe and secret place.
The Doctor lifted his head and placed a chaste kiss to her lips.
He looked down at her fondly, a small smile on his face and Amy can't help but smile back. His hair is damp and the fringe is hanging in front of his eyes. There's a red mark on his neck from where she placed a love bite. One that she hopes can't be covered by his collar.
Amy doesn't expect him to stay when he withdrew from her, she expects him to tell her to pick up her clothes and they have to get back in the TARDIS and do more life-saving!
Much to her surprise; he does stay. Of course, he put back on his shirt, purple briefs and trousers.
He laid next to her, pulling the covers over her rapidly-cooling skin, and kissed her temple.
"We don't have to...go save someone? Ship on fire? Distress signal? Cat stuck in a tree?"
"Amy, I don't know if you realize it, but you've had an eventful day with barely any sleep. We've been gone five minutes, yes, but you're body needs to rest."
Now, that she's thinking about it, he's right; she tired. Both from that happy, sleepy, after-glow kind of way and the 'god I have been running for my life for hours today' kind of way.
"Yeah..." Amy yawned despite her best efforts. "You gonna be here when I wake up?" She asked, pulling the covers to her chin and rolling over on her side so her body was facing him.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Would you like me to be?"
Amy blushed.
"Go to sleep." He grinned, not giving her a straight answer.
(Amy knows him well enough to know that he doesn't stay the whole night. But he is there when she opens her eyes, he's leaning against the TARDIS with a cup of tea in his hands, and he just says; "Okay, Pond. Now that you're all rested and sexually satisfied. Where do you want to go next?" )