Time Lord Sexual Repression or How Rose Tyler Got Her Groove Back
On the third day, the lord created crack!fic, and it was good fantastic.
Title: Time Lord Sexual Repression or How Rose Tyler Got Her Groove Back
Rating: You can't spell smut without an M, and this is just not cracky enough for an R anyway.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Aunty Beeb. I just took them and bent them to my will.
Warnings: Crack. Crack crack crack, crackity crack. If you read past this point you seriously endanger your health. I cannot be held personally responsible for anyone who reads this at work, or snorts beverages through their nose. You have been warned.
Summary: Not your average Doomsday fixer-upper. The Doctor might have found Rose again, but she's not exactly what he's been expecting.
Pine. Definitely pine.
Oh you stupid great moron.
He rests his head against the door and wonders just what he might say to her.
He’d like to tell her that he loves her and he would really like to shag her until she’s lost the ability to ever move again, and maybe if she learnt how to do that thing from Omega, he’d be willing to cuddle her afterwards.
Logic tells him it’s a bad idea. He settles on a ‘long time no see’ but is rudely interrupted by a squeal from inside. He quickly decides it’s not a Rose Tyler squeal of climax™ but more like a Rose Tyler squeal of slight surprise™
That stupid scottish git beat him to it. Bastard. He’ll castrate him if he ever gets the chance.
She even has a boyfriend, imagine that! He’s a gangly scottish bloke who laughs too much and plays the Proclaimers incessantly at high volume. The neighbours don’t seem to care.
Smarmy Git.
God I’m good. Knew I could talk you out of it!
Of course, just as his left foot begins to respond to the command to walk away, the door is pulled open and he falls forward.
His glasses crunch in his front pocket and he discovers Rose Tyler has incredibly soft carpet.
‘Doctor?’ She sounds just the slightest bit surprised. No gasping, no tears, not even a ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ Nothing.
Lying face down in her carpet, he’s just a little disappointed.
‘Get up’ A foot collides with his ribs. Hard. He’s still not getting up. Like he’ll give her the pleasure of it. He’s going to make her suffer, going to draw it out, going to make her beg...
You seriously need to get out more...
She sighs then. That’s more like it. He rolls onto his back, so as to observe this event.
Bloody hell, he can see right up her negligee. Lucky she’s wearing underwear tonight. Well, he can still the underside of her breasts, all milky and smooth, but he’s not sure it’s the best time to mention that.
The look on her face confirms it. On her face framed by brunette bangs. Her face framed by brunette bangs and a large purple hickey on her neck.
Kill him. Just kill him now and be over with it.
‘Enjoying the view?’ The look on her face might kid him into believing she’s actually annoyed with him, but she doesn’t sound annoyed at all. Not happy, but not annoyed.
It’s a start.
She turns and wanders off now, towards what careful observation has told him is the kitchen. She’s clicked the kettle, and he can hear her banging about looking for a mug. She’s got her own, and the scottish gits got his own, and god knows if she’s got another one.
Oh no. He hadn’t thought of that.
‘Who are you then?’ The gits standing over him, smiling down, and horrifyingly enough he can see up those things he calls shorts too.
That gives him incentive to stand up.
‘Spare mugs above the crockery luv’ he calls out, and the thumping stops. The Doctor swears in gallifreyan, and the scottish git smiles in a way that causes a desperate desire for face-punching.
Steady now...
It’s a sort of nice living room. Bit small, but he wouldn’t expect the scottish git to get her anything better on his measly pay. There are ten-thousand photos of the two of them smiling and hugging and kissing, and another thousand of Jackie and Pete and their 36 other children.
Also it smells like Pot Pourri.
He wonders briefly if the scottish git actually owns any kilts, and then remembers there's a couple in the TARDIS wardrobe. He might try them on when he gets back. Quite likes the idea of a healthy breeze about his privates.
You think that's gonna happen you got another thing coming!
the scottish git’s still smiling. It’s like his face is stuck that way.
Rose comes back with three cups of tea and parks herself on the overly pouffy lounge. The scottish git sinks in next to her and wraps himself around her in a way that looks disturbingly like the act of sexual intercourse on a planet he distinctly remembers Jack enjoying far too much.
He sits down on the edge of the other lounge and is immediately sucked into it, his rear caught in the giant pouffy clutches of the maroon monster.
The tea tastes like shit too. One of those herbal things that’s supposedly 100% natural, but contains just enough crap within that you might be forced to spontaneously regurgitate your own stomach.
If you happened to be a time-lord anyway.
Still, he takes a sip and tries not to spit it on the amazingly soft cream carpet. It really is soft. He’d shag Rose on that carpet. Course, she probably thinks she has the Most Awesome Sex Ever™ with scottish git, so maybe not.
Do you ever think about anything besides shagging her?
‘This is ........... by the way’ He smiles to himself that the TARDIS manages to make it sound as if she’s saying ‘scottish git who can’t ever sexually satisfy me like you...’ He reminds himself to give the console an extra-hard stroke later.
‘So how’d you get back here then? You said it was impossible didn’t you?’ The scottish git nods enthusiastically. Probably she’s told him the whole story numerous times.
He wants to tell her how difficult it was, that it involved advanced quantum physics, two wormholes and a large amount of sweat blood and tears. (Which took some time to clean off the floor and the smell never really faded).
But instead he goes with ‘mumble.... ‘s complicated....mumble’ And although the scottish git looks terribly disappointed, Rose seems satisfied with that answer and takes another sip of her tea.
Time drags on forever in painful silence. He comes to the point where he thinks all hope may be lost, and his eyes slip out of focus slightly, so he might be forgiven if he was completely consumed by the chair.
Then Rose begins to giggle and scottish git begins to make ‘coo’ noises and the Doctor forces himself to look up at them.
Oh for the love of god no!
They’re snuggling. And embracing. And whatever else humans do when they’re in the painful and highly embarrassing state know as Love™.
He thinks he might be sick, but they notice when he starts choking on his own spittle, and scottish git takes it upon himself to perform the Heimlich Manoeuvre despite his shouts of ‘No! I’m fine, honestly!’
Rose sighs at her big strong manly scottish git and the Doctor once again avoids the desire to have face and fist relations.
But then they’re attached again, and Rose keeps making little sighing noises that he wishes he could make her make, and he really wants to leave as soon as possible, but things are preventing him from doing so.
Like Rose’s left nipple peeking out over its lace cage to wink at him.
Down boy. Just walk away, and it can all be over with
He makes an involuntary squeaking noise and almost simultaneously Rose makes an ‘ooooh’ noise and part of him literally blooms towards her.
He takes that as his cue to leave.
Later, he supposes, Rose must have heard the door slam or perhaps she noticed the cup of cold tea thrown at her as he fled the room. It doesn’t matter in the end, cause she follows him out onto the street and he tries to ignore her but she keeps calling his name and he can’t ignore that.
Plus it’s piss cold and she’s only wearing that negligee.
Of course, owing to the fact it’s piss cold not one part of him responds to her wearing only a negligee and not in the company of scottish git. Except his mind which screams ‘Yes! Yes! Oh god yes!’ and then promptly melts into a big puddle of timelord on the pavement.
‘Um, so you’re leaving then?’ She sounds disappointed now.
‘Well, yes, I didn’t really enjoy watching you and whatsisname there swap bodily fluids...’ Oh god, she’s coming closer, she’s smiling.
Serves you right, pining over her like that.
‘Oh but you’d really like him, honestly. He’s sweet and kind and...’ It doesn’t really matter how brilliant scottish git may be at that point since he rams his tongue down her throat in attempt to get her to shut up.
Almost works too. ‘Shmmmggg ttthhhhhrrrwwwwd’
His mind quickly makes a list of every place he’s ever wanted to shag her, and he finds that unfortunately, dewy front lawn with scottish git boyfriend watching through the window is not on the list.
Damn.
Lets go to Spain. Spain’s nice this time of year. Wouldn’t that be nice, a warm beach. New coat of paint for my panels perhaps...
Evidently, it is on Rose’s list however, as by the time he drifts back to reality she’s straddling him and making noises he’s not sure he’s ever heard on any planet before.
Then she groans and falls face-forward into his chest and he feels quite nice really, lying there on the grass all covered in Rose Tyler.
‘She’s good eh?’ Oh hell, Scottish gits back again. Strangely enough though, he doesn’t really care because the fact is that at this very moment scottish git isn’t inside Rose, so he thinks he’s got the better deal for the moment.
‘Erm, yes, she’s quite good’ Scottish git nods approvingly and the Doctor wonders if he’s accidentally killed her because she hasn’t moved and he’s a little worried it was all a horrible conspiracy to begin with.
‘I tell you what, I knew I’d found a keeper when I met ‘er. She’s a right looker and up for anythin really. Wasn’t sure I liked her screamin out your name evrytime, but it’s kinda kinky innit?’
Kinky does not begin to describe it you poor sad bastard
At this point he becomes very uncomfortable. Of course he knew she would be thoroughly miserable as a result of The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Ending That Must Not Be Named™ but he wasn’t sure becoming a sexually perverted tramp was the right way to ease her emo.
‘Hhhhrrmmpphllloogg’ She says quite clearly into his shoulder and then pops up, eyes sparkling, cleans up her mess and looks down with an odd expression on her face.
‘Oh sorry, didn’t you?’ She looks apologetic and she offers to help, but he shakes his head.
‘I think i’d like to go home now’ He squeaks in a rather unmanly fashion and she eases herself off him clumsily.
‘Sure you don’t want some more tea? Coffee maybe? Get out the percolator love, do it proper for him would you?’ The scottish git nods at her, grins at him and heads back into the house.
‘Ah... so...’ His attempts at conversation betray him and she stands with a look on her face that suggests she’s either thinking about ways to hurt him very, very, badly or she’s wondering how long exactly he’s spent utterly, utterly obsessed with her.
Hah! Far, far too long.
‘I’m not a total tramp you know. Not a chav neither’ She states this fact as if it isn’t blindingly obvious that she so clearly is.
‘It’s all your fault anyways. Two whole years without a shag. Two whole years! And did you ever say something? Not once! Not once did you ever say “hey Rose, I really think it would be rather smashing if we went at it hard and fast on the console and then on the floor” Not once! Oh you wanted to, but you didn’t because god forbid you may have wanted to shag a human!’
She stands perfectly still for a moment, eyes bulging slightly, the picture of everything he has come to hope he will never find painfully attractive in anyone else ever again.
‘You’ve still got an erection by the way’
God I’ve missed her.
‘Errr’ Dear god, what to say.
‘ReallywannashagyouRose’gainsttheconsolemebbewithJacknMarthatoo?’
She grins.
‘Good enough for me. Now lets go before he realises his girlfriend's leaving him for an intergalactic slut with sexual repression issues’
Later, as he lies in a tangle of limbs, and a pair of lips do things that should be seriously illegal to parts of his anatomy he wasn’t aware even existed, he realises with dread it’s all gone rather post-watershed and the funding’s sure to be pulled.
Ah bollocks.
At least we’ll have time to visit Spain eh?
Title: Time Lord Sexual Repression or How Rose Tyler Got Her Groove Back
Rating: You can't spell smut without an M, and this is just not cracky enough for an R anyway.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Aunty Beeb. I just took them and bent them to my will.
Warnings: Crack. Crack crack crack, crackity crack. If you read past this point you seriously endanger your health. I cannot be held personally responsible for anyone who reads this at work, or snorts beverages through their nose. You have been warned.
Summary: Not your average Doomsday fixer-upper. The Doctor might have found Rose again, but she's not exactly what he's been expecting.
Pine. Definitely pine.
Oh you stupid great moron.
He rests his head against the door and wonders just what he might say to her.
He’d like to tell her that he loves her and he would really like to shag her until she’s lost the ability to ever move again, and maybe if she learnt how to do that thing from Omega, he’d be willing to cuddle her afterwards.
Logic tells him it’s a bad idea. He settles on a ‘long time no see’ but is rudely interrupted by a squeal from inside. He quickly decides it’s not a Rose Tyler squeal of climax™ but more like a Rose Tyler squeal of slight surprise™
That stupid scottish git beat him to it. Bastard. He’ll castrate him if he ever gets the chance.
She even has a boyfriend, imagine that! He’s a gangly scottish bloke who laughs too much and plays the Proclaimers incessantly at high volume. The neighbours don’t seem to care.
Smarmy Git.
God I’m good. Knew I could talk you out of it!
Of course, just as his left foot begins to respond to the command to walk away, the door is pulled open and he falls forward.
His glasses crunch in his front pocket and he discovers Rose Tyler has incredibly soft carpet.
‘Doctor?’ She sounds just the slightest bit surprised. No gasping, no tears, not even a ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ Nothing.
Lying face down in her carpet, he’s just a little disappointed.
‘Get up’ A foot collides with his ribs. Hard. He’s still not getting up. Like he’ll give her the pleasure of it. He’s going to make her suffer, going to draw it out, going to make her beg...
You seriously need to get out more...
She sighs then. That’s more like it. He rolls onto his back, so as to observe this event.
Bloody hell, he can see right up her negligee. Lucky she’s wearing underwear tonight. Well, he can still the underside of her breasts, all milky and smooth, but he’s not sure it’s the best time to mention that.
The look on her face confirms it. On her face framed by brunette bangs. Her face framed by brunette bangs and a large purple hickey on her neck.
Kill him. Just kill him now and be over with it.
‘Enjoying the view?’ The look on her face might kid him into believing she’s actually annoyed with him, but she doesn’t sound annoyed at all. Not happy, but not annoyed.
It’s a start.
She turns and wanders off now, towards what careful observation has told him is the kitchen. She’s clicked the kettle, and he can hear her banging about looking for a mug. She’s got her own, and the scottish gits got his own, and god knows if she’s got another one.
Oh no. He hadn’t thought of that.
‘Who are you then?’ The gits standing over him, smiling down, and horrifyingly enough he can see up those things he calls shorts too.
That gives him incentive to stand up.
‘Spare mugs above the crockery luv’ he calls out, and the thumping stops. The Doctor swears in gallifreyan, and the scottish git smiles in a way that causes a desperate desire for face-punching.
Steady now...
It’s a sort of nice living room. Bit small, but he wouldn’t expect the scottish git to get her anything better on his measly pay. There are ten-thousand photos of the two of them smiling and hugging and kissing, and another thousand of Jackie and Pete and their 36 other children.
Also it smells like Pot Pourri.
He wonders briefly if the scottish git actually owns any kilts, and then remembers there's a couple in the TARDIS wardrobe. He might try them on when he gets back. Quite likes the idea of a healthy breeze about his privates.
You think that's gonna happen you got another thing coming!
the scottish git’s still smiling. It’s like his face is stuck that way.
Rose comes back with three cups of tea and parks herself on the overly pouffy lounge. The scottish git sinks in next to her and wraps himself around her in a way that looks disturbingly like the act of sexual intercourse on a planet he distinctly remembers Jack enjoying far too much.
He sits down on the edge of the other lounge and is immediately sucked into it, his rear caught in the giant pouffy clutches of the maroon monster.
The tea tastes like shit too. One of those herbal things that’s supposedly 100% natural, but contains just enough crap within that you might be forced to spontaneously regurgitate your own stomach.
If you happened to be a time-lord anyway.
Still, he takes a sip and tries not to spit it on the amazingly soft cream carpet. It really is soft. He’d shag Rose on that carpet. Course, she probably thinks she has the Most Awesome Sex Ever™ with scottish git, so maybe not.
Do you ever think about anything besides shagging her?
‘This is ........... by the way’ He smiles to himself that the TARDIS manages to make it sound as if she’s saying ‘scottish git who can’t ever sexually satisfy me like you...’ He reminds himself to give the console an extra-hard stroke later.
‘So how’d you get back here then? You said it was impossible didn’t you?’ The scottish git nods enthusiastically. Probably she’s told him the whole story numerous times.
He wants to tell her how difficult it was, that it involved advanced quantum physics, two wormholes and a large amount of sweat blood and tears. (Which took some time to clean off the floor and the smell never really faded).
But instead he goes with ‘mumble.... ‘s complicated....mumble’ And although the scottish git looks terribly disappointed, Rose seems satisfied with that answer and takes another sip of her tea.
Time drags on forever in painful silence. He comes to the point where he thinks all hope may be lost, and his eyes slip out of focus slightly, so he might be forgiven if he was completely consumed by the chair.
Then Rose begins to giggle and scottish git begins to make ‘coo’ noises and the Doctor forces himself to look up at them.
Oh for the love of god no!
They’re snuggling. And embracing. And whatever else humans do when they’re in the painful and highly embarrassing state know as Love™.
He thinks he might be sick, but they notice when he starts choking on his own spittle, and scottish git takes it upon himself to perform the Heimlich Manoeuvre despite his shouts of ‘No! I’m fine, honestly!’
Rose sighs at her big strong manly scottish git and the Doctor once again avoids the desire to have face and fist relations.
But then they’re attached again, and Rose keeps making little sighing noises that he wishes he could make her make, and he really wants to leave as soon as possible, but things are preventing him from doing so.
Like Rose’s left nipple peeking out over its lace cage to wink at him.
Down boy. Just walk away, and it can all be over with
He makes an involuntary squeaking noise and almost simultaneously Rose makes an ‘ooooh’ noise and part of him literally blooms towards her.
He takes that as his cue to leave.
Later, he supposes, Rose must have heard the door slam or perhaps she noticed the cup of cold tea thrown at her as he fled the room. It doesn’t matter in the end, cause she follows him out onto the street and he tries to ignore her but she keeps calling his name and he can’t ignore that.
Plus it’s piss cold and she’s only wearing that negligee.
Of course, owing to the fact it’s piss cold not one part of him responds to her wearing only a negligee and not in the company of scottish git. Except his mind which screams ‘Yes! Yes! Oh god yes!’ and then promptly melts into a big puddle of timelord on the pavement.
‘Um, so you’re leaving then?’ She sounds disappointed now.
‘Well, yes, I didn’t really enjoy watching you and whatsisname there swap bodily fluids...’ Oh god, she’s coming closer, she’s smiling.
Serves you right, pining over her like that.
‘Oh but you’d really like him, honestly. He’s sweet and kind and...’ It doesn’t really matter how brilliant scottish git may be at that point since he rams his tongue down her throat in attempt to get her to shut up.
Almost works too. ‘Shmmmggg ttthhhhhrrrwwwwd’
His mind quickly makes a list of every place he’s ever wanted to shag her, and he finds that unfortunately, dewy front lawn with scottish git boyfriend watching through the window is not on the list.
Damn.
Lets go to Spain. Spain’s nice this time of year. Wouldn’t that be nice, a warm beach. New coat of paint for my panels perhaps...
Evidently, it is on Rose’s list however, as by the time he drifts back to reality she’s straddling him and making noises he’s not sure he’s ever heard on any planet before.
Then she groans and falls face-forward into his chest and he feels quite nice really, lying there on the grass all covered in Rose Tyler.
‘She’s good eh?’ Oh hell, Scottish gits back again. Strangely enough though, he doesn’t really care because the fact is that at this very moment scottish git isn’t inside Rose, so he thinks he’s got the better deal for the moment.
‘Erm, yes, she’s quite good’ Scottish git nods approvingly and the Doctor wonders if he’s accidentally killed her because she hasn’t moved and he’s a little worried it was all a horrible conspiracy to begin with.
‘I tell you what, I knew I’d found a keeper when I met ‘er. She’s a right looker and up for anythin really. Wasn’t sure I liked her screamin out your name evrytime, but it’s kinda kinky innit?’
Kinky does not begin to describe it you poor sad bastard
At this point he becomes very uncomfortable. Of course he knew she would be thoroughly miserable as a result of The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Ending That Must Not Be Named™ but he wasn’t sure becoming a sexually perverted tramp was the right way to ease her emo.
‘Hhhhrrmmpphllloogg’ She says quite clearly into his shoulder and then pops up, eyes sparkling, cleans up her mess and looks down with an odd expression on her face.
‘Oh sorry, didn’t you?’ She looks apologetic and she offers to help, but he shakes his head.
‘I think i’d like to go home now’ He squeaks in a rather unmanly fashion and she eases herself off him clumsily.
‘Sure you don’t want some more tea? Coffee maybe? Get out the percolator love, do it proper for him would you?’ The scottish git nods at her, grins at him and heads back into the house.
‘Ah... so...’ His attempts at conversation betray him and she stands with a look on her face that suggests she’s either thinking about ways to hurt him very, very, badly or she’s wondering how long exactly he’s spent utterly, utterly obsessed with her.
Hah! Far, far too long.
‘I’m not a total tramp you know. Not a chav neither’ She states this fact as if it isn’t blindingly obvious that she so clearly is.
‘It’s all your fault anyways. Two whole years without a shag. Two whole years! And did you ever say something? Not once! Not once did you ever say “hey Rose, I really think it would be rather smashing if we went at it hard and fast on the console and then on the floor” Not once! Oh you wanted to, but you didn’t because god forbid you may have wanted to shag a human!’
She stands perfectly still for a moment, eyes bulging slightly, the picture of everything he has come to hope he will never find painfully attractive in anyone else ever again.
‘You’ve still got an erection by the way’
God I’ve missed her.
‘Errr’ Dear god, what to say.
‘ReallywannashagyouRose’gainsttheconsolemebbewithJacknMarthatoo?’
She grins.
‘Good enough for me. Now lets go before he realises his girlfriend's leaving him for an intergalactic slut with sexual repression issues’
Later, as he lies in a tangle of limbs, and a pair of lips do things that should be seriously illegal to parts of his anatomy he wasn’t aware even existed, he realises with dread it’s all gone rather post-watershed and the funding’s sure to be pulled.
Ah bollocks.
At least we’ll have time to visit Spain eh?