Alternatives: Luck
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/228200.html">Alternatives: Luck by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Alt-Martha/Human-Ten | Rating: NC-17 | Spoilers: None)
Title: Alternatives: Luck
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Alt-Martha/Human-Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Summary: A brief interlude for Martha and John Smith.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: I had a spell of writer's block after finishing another fic and decided to write some very short fics in order to get over the block. This is one of the four fics, and the prompt of luck was given to me by mischief89.
~~~~~~
John lay in bed, watching Martha through half-closed eyes as she sat naked at her dressing table, combing her hair before she joined him.
Sometimes he still didn't quite believe his luck - that he and Martha Jones were lovers. He wondered, occasionally, what the Doctor and the other Martha would think if they knew: he hoped that Martha would be happy for him, for them both in fact, but he wondered how the Time Lord would feel about him not being with Rose any longer.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Martha, startling him. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed her approach the bed.
"How lucky I am," he answered, smiling up at her.
"Counting your blessings?" she asked, joining him on the bed.
He gasped as she straddled his thighs, and he felt her heat against his skin. "Definitely," he answered once he could speak.
She smirked, watching the way his cock was beginning to stir as she subtly shifted against him. "Are you looking forward to tomorrow?" she asked.
"The museum opening?" he queried, trying not to groan when she reached down and lightly caressed him. She nodded. "Yes, but not as much as I'm currently looking forward to tonight."
"Mr Insatiable," she teased.
"Oi!" he protested. "Who was it who shoved me against the front door earlier, before we'd barely got inside the house, and demanded that I 'take' you there and then?"
Martha ducked her head. "Me, but it's not my fault my hormones are rampaging at the moment."
"Never said it was," John answered. "I'm just pointing out that if I'm Mr Insatiable, then you're definitely Dr Insatiable." He caught hold of her hands and pulled her down until she lay prone on top of him. Then he began nuzzling at her neck as he stroked a hand down her back, over her bottom and then between her legs.
"I do believe I'm going to ravish you, in a wholly consensual manner," he told her, nipping at her skin, then licking it afterwards as he slipped his hand further and began to stroke her entrance.
She chuckled. "What's funny?" he demanded, puzzled by her response.
She lifted her head. "You. Only you would use a word like 'ravish' and then explain that you didn't mean it literally. Don't pout," she added. "I wasn't mocking you. It's a very endearing part of your nature that you're so precise." She kissed him, sucking on the pouting bottom lip.
He grinned, then grasped her hips and rolled them over so that he was on top. "Prepare to be ravished, Martha Jones."
She reached down for his cock, but he beat her to it, guiding himself into her. He groaned as he thrust inside her, then groaned again when she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.
"I swear you'll be the death of me," he gasped.
"I hope not!" Martha exclaimed. "Still, death in flagrante would be an interesting way to go."
His eyes widened in surprise and he stilled. "You're not serious?" he asked, worriedly.
"Don't worry," she answered. "I don't have any death kinks with regard to sex. I was just kidding."
"Thank goodness."
"You're too literal, sometimes," she told him, nuzzling at his neck as he began to move again.
He grunted, then shifted his weight onto one hand so he could stroke her breasts and tease her nipples, having discovered that this was something she particularly enjoyed during love-making. In the three weeks since they had made love for the first time, they had enjoyed discovering each other's erogenous zones and triggers for arousal. One day John had been very surprised to discover how turned on he got when Martha sucked his fingers clean of some cake mixture during one of their cooking sessions. It had taken him a couple of days to be able to look at her kitchen table without getting hard, thanks to the memory of taking her from behind as she bent over it, the detritus of their cake making still scattered across the table.
"Ah! That's nice, don't stop," she begged.
"No stopping," he agreed. "I did promise to ravish you, after all."
She gave a vague nod, too close to her climax to speak coherently. John ducked his head to kiss the hollow of her throat as he intensified his thrusts, and shortly afterwards Martha cried out in pleasure. He didn't take long to follow her example, her orgasm triggering his.
He rolled off her, then smiled as she snuggled up against him, draping her right leg over his.
"That was very nice," she said softly, nuzzling his neck.
"Yes it was," he agreed, stroking her shoulder and running a finger over her tattoo. "What time do we need to leave tomorrow morning, to get to the Museum for noon?"
"Not before 10 am," Martha answered, lifting her head to look at him.
"So we can have a lie in?" She nodded. "Good." He smiled in satisfaction at the thought - the last three weeks had been very busy for both of them, and spending a night and a day together was a pleasant prospect, especially when Martha's hormones were rampaging.
Title: Alternatives: Luck
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Alt-Martha/Human-Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Summary: A brief interlude for Martha and John Smith.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: I had a spell of writer's block after finishing another fic and decided to write some very short fics in order to get over the block. This is one of the four fics, and the prompt of luck was given to me by mischief89.
~~~~~~
John lay in bed, watching Martha through half-closed eyes as she sat naked at her dressing table, combing her hair before she joined him.
Sometimes he still didn't quite believe his luck - that he and Martha Jones were lovers. He wondered, occasionally, what the Doctor and the other Martha would think if they knew: he hoped that Martha would be happy for him, for them both in fact, but he wondered how the Time Lord would feel about him not being with Rose any longer.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Martha, startling him. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed her approach the bed.
"How lucky I am," he answered, smiling up at her.
"Counting your blessings?" she asked, joining him on the bed.
He gasped as she straddled his thighs, and he felt her heat against his skin. "Definitely," he answered once he could speak.
She smirked, watching the way his cock was beginning to stir as she subtly shifted against him. "Are you looking forward to tomorrow?" she asked.
"The museum opening?" he queried, trying not to groan when she reached down and lightly caressed him. She nodded. "Yes, but not as much as I'm currently looking forward to tonight."
"Mr Insatiable," she teased.
"Oi!" he protested. "Who was it who shoved me against the front door earlier, before we'd barely got inside the house, and demanded that I 'take' you there and then?"
Martha ducked her head. "Me, but it's not my fault my hormones are rampaging at the moment."
"Never said it was," John answered. "I'm just pointing out that if I'm Mr Insatiable, then you're definitely Dr Insatiable." He caught hold of her hands and pulled her down until she lay prone on top of him. Then he began nuzzling at her neck as he stroked a hand down her back, over her bottom and then between her legs.
"I do believe I'm going to ravish you, in a wholly consensual manner," he told her, nipping at her skin, then licking it afterwards as he slipped his hand further and began to stroke her entrance.
She chuckled. "What's funny?" he demanded, puzzled by her response.
She lifted her head. "You. Only you would use a word like 'ravish' and then explain that you didn't mean it literally. Don't pout," she added. "I wasn't mocking you. It's a very endearing part of your nature that you're so precise." She kissed him, sucking on the pouting bottom lip.
He grinned, then grasped her hips and rolled them over so that he was on top. "Prepare to be ravished, Martha Jones."
She reached down for his cock, but he beat her to it, guiding himself into her. He groaned as he thrust inside her, then groaned again when she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.
"I swear you'll be the death of me," he gasped.
"I hope not!" Martha exclaimed. "Still, death in flagrante would be an interesting way to go."
His eyes widened in surprise and he stilled. "You're not serious?" he asked, worriedly.
"Don't worry," she answered. "I don't have any death kinks with regard to sex. I was just kidding."
"Thank goodness."
"You're too literal, sometimes," she told him, nuzzling at his neck as he began to move again.
He grunted, then shifted his weight onto one hand so he could stroke her breasts and tease her nipples, having discovered that this was something she particularly enjoyed during love-making. In the three weeks since they had made love for the first time, they had enjoyed discovering each other's erogenous zones and triggers for arousal. One day John had been very surprised to discover how turned on he got when Martha sucked his fingers clean of some cake mixture during one of their cooking sessions. It had taken him a couple of days to be able to look at her kitchen table without getting hard, thanks to the memory of taking her from behind as she bent over it, the detritus of their cake making still scattered across the table.
"Ah! That's nice, don't stop," she begged.
"No stopping," he agreed. "I did promise to ravish you, after all."
She gave a vague nod, too close to her climax to speak coherently. John ducked his head to kiss the hollow of her throat as he intensified his thrusts, and shortly afterwards Martha cried out in pleasure. He didn't take long to follow her example, her orgasm triggering his.
He rolled off her, then smiled as she snuggled up against him, draping her right leg over his.
"That was very nice," she said softly, nuzzling his neck.
"Yes it was," he agreed, stroking her shoulder and running a finger over her tattoo. "What time do we need to leave tomorrow morning, to get to the Museum for noon?"
"Not before 10 am," Martha answered, lifting her head to look at him.
"So we can have a lie in?" She nodded. "Good." He smiled in satisfaction at the thought - the last three weeks had been very busy for both of them, and spending a night and a day together was a pleasant prospect, especially when Martha's hormones were rampaging.