Fic: Doctor Who, New New Fantastic
Sorry I've been somewhat MIA of late. I've been busy, plus I had my period and was just not feeling good in general. I have big miscellaneous post planned, but in the meantime, here's some fic.
My mom and I just rewatched "The Christmas Invasion," and "New Earth" last night, and I was inspired to write this. Yay.
Title: New New Fantastic
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R (the oral sex! the oral sex!)
Word Count: 328
Disclaimer: Don't own, etc. etc. etc.
Summary: Set shortly after 2x1, "New Earth." Ten/Rose, implied Nine/Rose. Saddish.
Rose is glad it’s customary to close your eyes when you’re kissing. She doesn’t think she could do this if she had to look at his face. Not that there’s anything wrong with his new face. It’s aesthetically pleasing. It just doesn’t belong to her Doctor.
His mouth is the wrong shape, mashed against hers. Rose tries to remember him saying “fantastic,” the feel of his warm hand holding hers, the certainty she had that no matter what changes may have occurred, deep inside he was still the man she had fallen in love with.
The Doctor’s mouth moves down the column of her neck, and Rose licks her lips, tracing his absence with her tongue. Nothing tastes right. He doesn’t taste like he used to. For the first time, he tastes… alien.
Rose remembers lying in the apple grass, the New Earth sky bright above them, listening to the “new new Doctor” babble and feeling euphoric. Now she just feels empty.
The Doctor’s tongue is on her breasts now, and she hopes he won’t look up. The old Doctor would, he always liked to watch the joy he gave her flash across her face. But the new Doctor doesn’t look up, just continues down, down, down, and Rose is shaking now, with pleasure and with grief. Tears and sweat trickle down her face.
It’s only after that he looks at her. “Are you crying?” he asks. “Have I lost my skills, as well?”
“No, it’s not that. These are happy tears.” Rose conjures up a smile. “The new new Rose always cries after an orgasm.”
He kisses her, and she tastes her juices, his newness, all mixed with the salt of her loss. She hopes he knows her well enough to sense she’s lying. Yet part of her hopes he doesn’t know her at all.
“Fantastic,” the old Doctor says in her head.
“Fantastic,” Rose echoes, whispering against the Doctor’s new and sticky lips.
My mom and I just rewatched "The Christmas Invasion," and "New Earth" last night, and I was inspired to write this. Yay.
Title: New New Fantastic
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R (the oral sex! the oral sex!)
Word Count: 328
Disclaimer: Don't own, etc. etc. etc.
Summary: Set shortly after 2x1, "New Earth." Ten/Rose, implied Nine/Rose. Saddish.
Rose is glad it’s customary to close your eyes when you’re kissing. She doesn’t think she could do this if she had to look at his face. Not that there’s anything wrong with his new face. It’s aesthetically pleasing. It just doesn’t belong to her Doctor.
His mouth is the wrong shape, mashed against hers. Rose tries to remember him saying “fantastic,” the feel of his warm hand holding hers, the certainty she had that no matter what changes may have occurred, deep inside he was still the man she had fallen in love with.
The Doctor’s mouth moves down the column of her neck, and Rose licks her lips, tracing his absence with her tongue. Nothing tastes right. He doesn’t taste like he used to. For the first time, he tastes… alien.
Rose remembers lying in the apple grass, the New Earth sky bright above them, listening to the “new new Doctor” babble and feeling euphoric. Now she just feels empty.
The Doctor’s tongue is on her breasts now, and she hopes he won’t look up. The old Doctor would, he always liked to watch the joy he gave her flash across her face. But the new Doctor doesn’t look up, just continues down, down, down, and Rose is shaking now, with pleasure and with grief. Tears and sweat trickle down her face.
It’s only after that he looks at her. “Are you crying?” he asks. “Have I lost my skills, as well?”
“No, it’s not that. These are happy tears.” Rose conjures up a smile. “The new new Rose always cries after an orgasm.”
He kisses her, and she tastes her juices, his newness, all mixed with the salt of her loss. She hopes he knows her well enough to sense she’s lying. Yet part of her hopes he doesn’t know her at all.
“Fantastic,” the old Doctor says in her head.
“Fantastic,” Rose echoes, whispering against the Doctor’s new and sticky lips.