(no subject)
Title: Talking
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: Nine/Rose
Spoilers: Dalek
Warnings: Sex
Summery: He likes to hold conversations during sex.
Notes: Don't know where this came from.
He liked to hold conversations with her during sex. He liked to tell her he loved her, his beautiful companion Rose but mostly he liked to talk to her.
About anything and everything.
Apparently he could do that during sex, his brain didn’t shut down due to intense pleasure like hers, like humans. He told her it was normal for him, that mostly, during sex he could probably play chess or read if the angle was right. She wasn’t sure who he would play chess with because it wouldn’t be her.
But it was normal to be so unaffected during sex, it was just that one moment when he came that did him in. Totally bowling him over until he passed out. That was what happened, that was normal. Good, but normal.
That was when she liked to talk though. After sex, when he’d come round again, curled up by his side, sweaty and satisfied. That was when he was incapable of conversation but like he carried on talking during sex, she carried on talking afterwards.
She knew he got a kick out it, watching her try and answer his questions when she couldn’t even think and her entire being was focused on what he was doing to her, what she was feeling. He would grin at her, laugh even, when all she could do was moan in response. He loved teasing her like that.
And she loved to torture him just as much afterwards. Asking him questions when he was too exhausted to answer, telling him things then acting hurt when he hadn’t listed to a word she’d said. Then laughing at him.
She knew she’d done something very right when all he could do was bat her away with a tired swipe of his hand to shut her up.
Not that she listened much. Only when she was too exhausted herself to keep it up.
She liked pushing him too, to test to see how much he was really listening.
“Can I be on top next time?”
“Can Adam join in?”
“Can I use the Tardis to win the lottery?”
She liked that game.
She liked to ask him if he loved her, really loved her and wasn’t just saying it because they were having sex or because she happened to be traveling with him. She liked to ask that because the answer was always the same, no matter how much she’d tired him out.
He always told her loved her before they started having sex, before the first desperate coupling that had occurred when he’d thought he’d lost her to the Dalek, before she’d even agreed to come along with him. Even though she, one person on one planet out of countless (she suspected he knew exactly how many there were) of planets he loved her because she was special, he’d let her come along because she was special.
She loved that answer, those words, the conviction in his voice when he said them. She had him tell her that at least once a week, usually twice because she needed to hear it too.
She felt very small when faced with such a vast universe.
She did notice (and didn’t mind) that he never went so deep when he had conversations with her during sex. That he never asked her any intense questions. He never questioned her love for him like that.
But then he was so sure of himself in everything he did that it really didn’t surprise her.
He was so right to be so sure about this though, because she was completely in love with him.
She would go anywhere with him, to bed, to Sunderland, ice planets, rocks of fire, anywhere, everywhere and back again.
If only to try and read while they had sex, knowing he’d only end up dropping his book and loosing his page when he came.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: Nine/Rose
Spoilers: Dalek
Warnings: Sex
Summery: He likes to hold conversations during sex.
Notes: Don't know where this came from.
He liked to hold conversations with her during sex. He liked to tell her he loved her, his beautiful companion Rose but mostly he liked to talk to her.
About anything and everything.
Apparently he could do that during sex, his brain didn’t shut down due to intense pleasure like hers, like humans. He told her it was normal for him, that mostly, during sex he could probably play chess or read if the angle was right. She wasn’t sure who he would play chess with because it wouldn’t be her.
But it was normal to be so unaffected during sex, it was just that one moment when he came that did him in. Totally bowling him over until he passed out. That was what happened, that was normal. Good, but normal.
That was when she liked to talk though. After sex, when he’d come round again, curled up by his side, sweaty and satisfied. That was when he was incapable of conversation but like he carried on talking during sex, she carried on talking afterwards.
She knew he got a kick out it, watching her try and answer his questions when she couldn’t even think and her entire being was focused on what he was doing to her, what she was feeling. He would grin at her, laugh even, when all she could do was moan in response. He loved teasing her like that.
And she loved to torture him just as much afterwards. Asking him questions when he was too exhausted to answer, telling him things then acting hurt when he hadn’t listed to a word she’d said. Then laughing at him.
She knew she’d done something very right when all he could do was bat her away with a tired swipe of his hand to shut her up.
Not that she listened much. Only when she was too exhausted herself to keep it up.
She liked pushing him too, to test to see how much he was really listening.
“Can I be on top next time?”
“Can Adam join in?”
“Can I use the Tardis to win the lottery?”
She liked that game.
She liked to ask him if he loved her, really loved her and wasn’t just saying it because they were having sex or because she happened to be traveling with him. She liked to ask that because the answer was always the same, no matter how much she’d tired him out.
He always told her loved her before they started having sex, before the first desperate coupling that had occurred when he’d thought he’d lost her to the Dalek, before she’d even agreed to come along with him. Even though she, one person on one planet out of countless (she suspected he knew exactly how many there were) of planets he loved her because she was special, he’d let her come along because she was special.
She loved that answer, those words, the conviction in his voice when he said them. She had him tell her that at least once a week, usually twice because she needed to hear it too.
She felt very small when faced with such a vast universe.
She did notice (and didn’t mind) that he never went so deep when he had conversations with her during sex. That he never asked her any intense questions. He never questioned her love for him like that.
But then he was so sure of himself in everything he did that it really didn’t surprise her.
He was so right to be so sure about this though, because she was completely in love with him.
She would go anywhere with him, to bed, to Sunderland, ice planets, rocks of fire, anywhere, everywhere and back again.
If only to try and read while they had sex, knowing he’d only end up dropping his book and loosing his page when he came.