Three Drabbles of Kink
Title: Three Drabbles of Kink: Silence, Voyeur (not so much), Denial
Author: Ella Jane (roquentine)
Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: R (they're not terribly explicit)
Spoilers: Not a one.
A/N: Inspiration drawn from becky_writing's Kink Table. (#1, #39, and #29, in that order.) Woo!
* * * * * * *
Silence
He sits. She moves over him.
He is quiet, for now, but only because she's gagged him.
If his eyes close, or drift from hers, she stops. If he touches her, she stops.
He doesn't want her to stop. So he locks his gaze. And keeps his hands still.
His eyes burn with frustration, disdain, resentment. Anger. He doesn't like to be frozen, silenced.
She doesn't care. She will bring him off like this. Every thrust is a taunt, a dare.
She revels in forcing his body to respond when his mind doesn't want to.
She wishes she knew why.
* * * * * * *
Voyeur (not so much)
They're in the middle of the ninth millennium. A human exhibitionist satellite.
Rose stands in one of the TARDIS's observation rooms. Somewhat confused, a little afraid, oddly capitivated.
He watches her watching them. He can tell she's curious -- she had asked to see this -- but he doesn't want her to be uncomfortable.
He moves behind her, wrapping his arms across her shoulders. "See anything you like?" he says, low and deep in her ear.
"I'm not sure," she says, honestly. It's a little too much, maybe.
He turns her around, her face in his hands. "How about now?"
She grins.
* * * * * * *
Denial
A small part of her in his mouth. Or, her whole body. She asks to give in.
He moves up. Not yet. His eyes, and voice, are deadly serious.
Please. A whisper, though she feels like screaming.
No.
She does scream now, but holds on. It is what he wants.
He turns her over. His hand trails up, slowly, inside. She gasps, bucks against him.
Not yet.
A moan. Begging. Desperate.
Rose, I said no.
She sobs, and fights.
His hand doesn't stop. His tongue traces her spine. She keens. An eternity.
Finally, his lips, her ear, one word...
Now.
* * * * * * *
Author: Ella Jane (roquentine)
Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: R (they're not terribly explicit)
Spoilers: Not a one.
A/N: Inspiration drawn from becky_writing's Kink Table. (#1, #39, and #29, in that order.) Woo!
* * * * * * *
Silence
He sits. She moves over him.
He is quiet, for now, but only because she's gagged him.
If his eyes close, or drift from hers, she stops. If he touches her, she stops.
He doesn't want her to stop. So he locks his gaze. And keeps his hands still.
His eyes burn with frustration, disdain, resentment. Anger. He doesn't like to be frozen, silenced.
She doesn't care. She will bring him off like this. Every thrust is a taunt, a dare.
She revels in forcing his body to respond when his mind doesn't want to.
She wishes she knew why.
* * * * * * *
Voyeur (not so much)
They're in the middle of the ninth millennium. A human exhibitionist satellite.
Rose stands in one of the TARDIS's observation rooms. Somewhat confused, a little afraid, oddly capitivated.
He watches her watching them. He can tell she's curious -- she had asked to see this -- but he doesn't want her to be uncomfortable.
He moves behind her, wrapping his arms across her shoulders. "See anything you like?" he says, low and deep in her ear.
"I'm not sure," she says, honestly. It's a little too much, maybe.
He turns her around, her face in his hands. "How about now?"
She grins.
* * * * * * *
Denial
A small part of her in his mouth. Or, her whole body. She asks to give in.
He moves up. Not yet. His eyes, and voice, are deadly serious.
Please. A whisper, though she feels like screaming.
No.
She does scream now, but holds on. It is what he wants.
He turns her over. His hand trails up, slowly, inside. She gasps, bucks against him.
Not yet.
A moan. Begging. Desperate.
Rose, I said no.
She sobs, and fights.
His hand doesn't stop. His tongue traces her spine. She keens. An eternity.
Finally, his lips, her ear, one word...
Now.
* * * * * * *