Porn Battle Fic xplay: Tish Jones/Jack Harkness- Screech and Crash
Title: Screech and Crash.
Fandom-Pairing: Doctor Who/ Torchwood Crossover- Tish Jones/Jack Harkness
Rating-Word Count- Notes: NC-17, ~1000 Words, for Oxoniensis' Porn Battle under the prompt of Safe.
Jack takes trips to London every now and then. Sometimes, he misleads the team about them, saying he has to go meet with the English Paramilitary Parliament (whatever that's supposed to mean) and sometimes he says he's going to meet with the Prime Minster. Sometimes, though, he says nothing, just disappears.
Tish meets him at the train station, every time, standing by herself on the platform, carrying her handbag between her two hands and waiting for him, eyes carefully blank. She's not the same robot who used to feed him on the Valiant, they both know that, but she is a changed person, closeted within her own mind in ways he's sure a girl of her caliber wouldn't be for any old reason at all.
When he kisses her, it's like e can't even stop his energy from flowing into her, brown skin glowing etherial as she clings to him, peeling back his jacket and easing down his braces. The world disappears in her mouth, they kiss for so long. He thinks, and knows that this is what they need, this is how they need to go on, even for a few hours or days.
"How long are you staying?" She asks.
"A few days," he says. "If that's alright, of course."
Her smile is quiet and simple and she presses her fingers into his until they're merging in together, warm and simple and complete.
He's slow and deliberate, fucking her with gentle urge until she cries out falling apart, begging for more. She lets him have what he wants of her, encourages for his fingers and mouth to explore, to try and jam as many kisses into as many places as he can find, and even more.
He bends her over her kitchen table, hands firmly clawed into the edges as if to keep her still without going near the tender area of outright bondage (and Jack never thought he would be saying that one) , and spreads her wide, licking her from clit right through her core up through her crack and into the small of her back, driving her crazy as he fucks one hole after another with his fingers and tongue, holding onto her with his other hand as she rocks into him, hips jamming into his face. She's naked save her bra, but he reaches out and hefts a breast from one of the cups, sucking at the nipple for a dramatically miniscule ammount of time before she leans backwards and opens herself wide.
"Anything you want you can have," She says, sultry-low, "it's all yours if you want it, you know."
He smiles down at her, Kissing her lips, joining a hand with his own while the energy inside him contradicts, pools and crests at the same time. "I know. I know."
He watches her part around him to take him in, watches as all that pink just opens into ceaseless terrain, wet as a rainstorm, endless as a night sky. Her bed creaks from his power, and they both claw at her sheets, joined at the hip and the mouth, equally in need. He pulls out and she repositions herself another way, moaning as he sinks back in in the same rhythm, in the same time.
It's funny, he thinks, how much he doesn't know anything about her at all, and yet he knows everything, knew it the minute her eyes glazed over, knew it from petty conversation on the phone and in the brig. He fixes his hand on her hip, uses it as leverage to push deeper into her, making her cry out as his arms collapse around her. They roll around on the bed clumsily, arms stretched out for each other, like they know they both need this as bad as the other does. Her lines and boundaries erase under him, and his time erases over her and it doesn't seem as purple as putting it into words must sound and...
When he comes, She glows warm and shivery-golden. When she comes, he can tell his whole life story in a kiss, dying and being reborn inside her, like salvation, like relief.
They sleep, afterward, like they've ceased to exist. It's the best rest Jack's had in weeks.
Fandom-Pairing: Doctor Who/ Torchwood Crossover- Tish Jones/Jack Harkness
Rating-Word Count- Notes: NC-17, ~1000 Words, for Oxoniensis' Porn Battle under the prompt of Safe.
Jack takes trips to London every now and then. Sometimes, he misleads the team about them, saying he has to go meet with the English Paramilitary Parliament (whatever that's supposed to mean) and sometimes he says he's going to meet with the Prime Minster. Sometimes, though, he says nothing, just disappears.
Tish meets him at the train station, every time, standing by herself on the platform, carrying her handbag between her two hands and waiting for him, eyes carefully blank. She's not the same robot who used to feed him on the Valiant, they both know that, but she is a changed person, closeted within her own mind in ways he's sure a girl of her caliber wouldn't be for any old reason at all.
When he kisses her, it's like e can't even stop his energy from flowing into her, brown skin glowing etherial as she clings to him, peeling back his jacket and easing down his braces. The world disappears in her mouth, they kiss for so long. He thinks, and knows that this is what they need, this is how they need to go on, even for a few hours or days.
"How long are you staying?" She asks.
"A few days," he says. "If that's alright, of course."
Her smile is quiet and simple and she presses her fingers into his until they're merging in together, warm and simple and complete.
He's slow and deliberate, fucking her with gentle urge until she cries out falling apart, begging for more. She lets him have what he wants of her, encourages for his fingers and mouth to explore, to try and jam as many kisses into as many places as he can find, and even more.
He bends her over her kitchen table, hands firmly clawed into the edges as if to keep her still without going near the tender area of outright bondage (and Jack never thought he would be saying that one) , and spreads her wide, licking her from clit right through her core up through her crack and into the small of her back, driving her crazy as he fucks one hole after another with his fingers and tongue, holding onto her with his other hand as she rocks into him, hips jamming into his face. She's naked save her bra, but he reaches out and hefts a breast from one of the cups, sucking at the nipple for a dramatically miniscule ammount of time before she leans backwards and opens herself wide.
"Anything you want you can have," She says, sultry-low, "it's all yours if you want it, you know."
He smiles down at her, Kissing her lips, joining a hand with his own while the energy inside him contradicts, pools and crests at the same time. "I know. I know."
He watches her part around him to take him in, watches as all that pink just opens into ceaseless terrain, wet as a rainstorm, endless as a night sky. Her bed creaks from his power, and they both claw at her sheets, joined at the hip and the mouth, equally in need. He pulls out and she repositions herself another way, moaning as he sinks back in in the same rhythm, in the same time.
It's funny, he thinks, how much he doesn't know anything about her at all, and yet he knows everything, knew it the minute her eyes glazed over, knew it from petty conversation on the phone and in the brig. He fixes his hand on her hip, uses it as leverage to push deeper into her, making her cry out as his arms collapse around her. They roll around on the bed clumsily, arms stretched out for each other, like they know they both need this as bad as the other does. Her lines and boundaries erase under him, and his time erases over her and it doesn't seem as purple as putting it into words must sound and...
When he comes, She glows warm and shivery-golden. When she comes, he can tell his whole life story in a kiss, dying and being reborn inside her, like salvation, like relief.
They sleep, afterward, like they've ceased to exist. It's the best rest Jack's had in weeks.