Fic: Sentire (6/9)
Title: Sentire (6/9)
Author: Ella Jane
Characters: Nine/Rose, Jack
Chapter Rating: NC-17
Series Rating: NC-17
Timeline: AU from The Doctor Dances
A/N: Ahem. *commences sounding of alarm bells* Stay with me, though, I promise it'll be okay. :) I bow down before
invisible_lift in awe of his righteous beta. Thank you all for reading!
x-posted to
dwfiction,
time_and_chips, and
better_with_3, and archived at Teaspoon.
PSA: Light text on a dark background can be so annoying that you can't suspend your disbelief about how Jack and Rose never even got to first base in canon. Click here to see the entry in your own journal format, and no, I don't know why I never thought to make it a link before now.
part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five
* * * * * * *
sentire: (L.) experience, feel, perceive, see, think, realize, understand.
* * * * * * *
Her face. He watched her face, all the time.
She hadn't yet developed any kind of mask. It twisted his insides to think that someday -- hopefully long after she was finished with him, and hopefully not entirely because of him -- she would learn how to hide her expressions, how to stop her eyes from giving away everything she was thinking. He knew it would happen sooner or later, though, because that was the only way humans could survive each other.
For now, when he could see them, her eyes were the clearest of windows. They told him things she wouldn't say out loud. She wanted him to think she was brave, but her eyes told him when she needed reassurance that they were not, at least not right that minute, going to be killed. They gave her away when she was too tired to understand whatever he was on about, but was indulging him anyway. They told him when she needed to go back to early 21st century London for a little while, even when she'd insist she wasn't at all homesick.
And of course, of course, they told him he was loved, constantly, unquestioningly. In odd moments that otherwise meant nothing, he could look over at her, capture her gaze, and search for it, and she'd unwittingly comply, because she hadn't yet learned how to hide it.
Sex with her was the same, but different, of course. Her face would show expressions of joy, bliss, incomprehensible ecstasy, and he would watch those expressions, watch her, searching for the confirmation that he was the cause. He wanted to see it every time, this proof that she belonged to him.
Which is why the arrangement with Jack didn't bother him. Rose was young and energetic and silly and Jack was too, and therefore he provided a certain kind of outlet for her that the Doctor couldn't, and that was fine. She loved Jack, yes -- the Doctor did, too -- but however much she shared her body with him, there were parts of her that only the Doctor could reach. He knew that, without doubt. He knew it.
But the Doctor was broken. He had to keep checking, keep testing her. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop.
He couldn't get enough.
* * * * * * *
He watched Rose intently as Jack pounded into her, saw her pupils large and dark, dilated with need and excitement. Her eyes were leveled in his direction, but she was not seeing him, not anymore.
Which is why, without moving his eyes from hers, he trailed the back of one hand down the front of her body until it reached her waist. Then, turning the palm toward her and timing his movement to match one of Jack's thrusts, he slid the tips of his fingers down and over her clit.
She gasped sharply, her eyes snapping back into focus, staring into him, her senses shocked, almost beyond capacity.
Jack stilled his movements immediately. He couldn't see or feel what the Doctor had done. "What is it?" he whispered in her ear, his voice tense with concern. "Rose, did I hurt you?" He reached up a hand to smooth her sweat-slicked hair from her forehead, brushing his mouth over her neck.
The Doctor's hand stayed exactly where it was, his eyes boring into hers.
"No," Rose choked out. "God, no, don't stop, please..." Her eyes fell closed for a moment, then opened again, unable to look anywhere but into the depths of the Doctor's. Her hips moved backward to reassure Jack. The Doctor's hand went with them. "Don't stop."
The Doctor knew she was talking to him, too, and he was satisfied. For the moment.
Jack began moving in and out of her again, his pace quickening. The Doctor slid his hand down a little further, moving the heel of his palm back and forth, slightly at first, across her clit. Then the pressure grew stronger, and stronger still. Finally, in one smooth motion that took no longer than a second, he curled his second and third fingers and pushed them up and back, deep inside her core.
Time slowed down for all of them then.
Jack muttered an expletive or two as he slid inside her in what felt like slow motion. The Doctor's fingers noticeably increased the pressure on his cock. He could actually feel the Doctor, through Rose, the three of them, together.
And Rose, her eyes locked into the Doctor's, could feel each of them, and feel them sensing each other, in her body, through her body...
Through the ever-thickening cloud in her mind, she felt Jack come, actually felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside her, the added tightness from the Doctor sending him rocketing over the edge.
...too much...
A few more of Jack's now erratic thrusts coupled with the Doctor's palm grinding mercilessly into her clit, the Doctor's fingers pressing back against Jack's movements, the Doctor's eyes enveloping her... and Rose was lost.
* * * * * * *
She exploded with a keening cry that she felt in her throat but couldn't seem to be able to hear. Her lower body jerked gracelessly in orgasmic reflexes she could not control. She felt suddenly and inexplicably invaded by the parts of other bodies inside her own. Her chest tightened, her vision went white behind eyes still open to the Doctor's. She felt every cell in her body vibrating and it numbed her, she heard nothing but a deafening silence and she was drowning. She gasped for air and, without knowing it, began to sob as her body surrendered, collapsing bonelessly between the Doctor and Jack, both of them still inside her and around her and everywhere all at once.
Tears poured from her eyes as her cries intensified, shuddering in her lungs. She felt incoherently desperate for space and sanctity. Her arms shoved against the chests on either side of her, pushing their bodies away from hers, frantic to move them out, outside, so she could find her way back in. She turned onto her back, still pushing, thrashing, away, get away, air, air, and it was not enough. She was suffocating. Her upper body thrust itself off the bed and she doubled over her knees. Her arms wrapped around her chest protectively, her sobs racked her to her bones, and she gave up, and gave in, and let go of any semblance of herself, and cried, and cried, and cried.
* * * * * * *
Jack had just had one of his most powerful climaxes in recent history, but recovered in record time when he realized Rose was beating against his torso in a decidedly unerotic manner. He backed away toward the edge of the bed and blinked in confusion as he tried to regain focus, increasingly horrified that he had done something wrong, had hurt her, had caused this.
Now he felt like even looking at her would be unwelcome, and tears jumped to his eyes. "Rose," he whispered, completely at a loss. He glanced over at the Doctor, who had pulled back to sit up against the headboard. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring intently at Rose's back, stoic as always, almost like he was waiting out a child's tantrum. Jack took a deep breath and reached for her, tentatively. "Rose, sweetheart..."
"No," the Doctor's voice cut in, quiet but sharp. He took his eyes off Rose for a split second to glance darkly at Jack. "Don't touch her, it'll only make it worse."
"How can it be worse?" Jack spit out in an angry whisper. "Look at her. She needs someone to comfort her, and that seems to be my job, seeing as how you..."
"She's not conscious," the Doctor said simply. "She doesn't know where she is. Any physical contact would be perceived by her body as an attack. If you value that pretty face of yours, just stay where you are." He sighed and closed his eyes before glancing at Jack again with as much of a reassuring expression as he could muster. "Don't worry. It's almost over."
Jack stared at him, incredulous. "Don't worry? Is that all you've got? Look at her," he said again, though already she seemed to have quieted a bit. She was still crying, but softer now, a bit more controlled. She took intermittent deep breaths, still racked by shudders. Her hands were crossed over her chest at her shoulders, and she appeared to be rocking slightly, as though trying to soothe herself.
The Doctor didn't respond, at least not in the way Jack expected. Instead, he calmly swung his legs to the floor and reached for his nightshirt. He shrugged it over his shoulders and stood up.
Jack watched him, aghast. "Are you kidding me? You're leaving?" he demanded in as loud a whisper as he could manage.
The Doctor looked back at Rose as he answered. "You were right, comforting her is your job. Stay awake until she falls asleep. You can stay here and sleep next to her, but don't touch her unless she reaches for you."
"You're the one she's going to reach for." It pained Jack a little to say it, but it was the truth, and so help him, if Rose wanted the Doctor when she woke up, then he would damn well make sure the Doctor was there.
"No. She knows I did this. She's going to want you." He turned toward the door.
"And what exactly did you do?" Jack half-whispered, half-shouted after him.
The Doctor left the room without turning around.
* * * * * * *
end of part six
* * * * * * *
part seven
* * * * * * *
Author: Ella Jane
Characters: Nine/Rose, Jack
Chapter Rating: NC-17
Series Rating: NC-17
Timeline: AU from The Doctor Dances
A/N: Ahem. *commences sounding of alarm bells* Stay with me, though, I promise it'll be okay. :) I bow down before
invisible_lift in awe of his righteous beta. Thank you all for reading!
x-posted to
dwfiction,
time_and_chips, and
better_with_3, and archived at Teaspoon.
PSA: Light text on a dark background can be so annoying that you can't suspend your disbelief about how Jack and Rose never even got to first base in canon. Click here to see the entry in your own journal format, and no, I don't know why I never thought to make it a link before now.
part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five
* * * * * * *
sentire: (L.) experience, feel, perceive, see, think, realize, understand.
* * * * * * *
Her face. He watched her face, all the time.
She hadn't yet developed any kind of mask. It twisted his insides to think that someday -- hopefully long after she was finished with him, and hopefully not entirely because of him -- she would learn how to hide her expressions, how to stop her eyes from giving away everything she was thinking. He knew it would happen sooner or later, though, because that was the only way humans could survive each other.
For now, when he could see them, her eyes were the clearest of windows. They told him things she wouldn't say out loud. She wanted him to think she was brave, but her eyes told him when she needed reassurance that they were not, at least not right that minute, going to be killed. They gave her away when she was too tired to understand whatever he was on about, but was indulging him anyway. They told him when she needed to go back to early 21st century London for a little while, even when she'd insist she wasn't at all homesick.
And of course, of course, they told him he was loved, constantly, unquestioningly. In odd moments that otherwise meant nothing, he could look over at her, capture her gaze, and search for it, and she'd unwittingly comply, because she hadn't yet learned how to hide it.
Sex with her was the same, but different, of course. Her face would show expressions of joy, bliss, incomprehensible ecstasy, and he would watch those expressions, watch her, searching for the confirmation that he was the cause. He wanted to see it every time, this proof that she belonged to him.
Which is why the arrangement with Jack didn't bother him. Rose was young and energetic and silly and Jack was too, and therefore he provided a certain kind of outlet for her that the Doctor couldn't, and that was fine. She loved Jack, yes -- the Doctor did, too -- but however much she shared her body with him, there were parts of her that only the Doctor could reach. He knew that, without doubt. He knew it.
But the Doctor was broken. He had to keep checking, keep testing her. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop.
He couldn't get enough.
* * * * * * *
He watched Rose intently as Jack pounded into her, saw her pupils large and dark, dilated with need and excitement. Her eyes were leveled in his direction, but she was not seeing him, not anymore.
Which is why, without moving his eyes from hers, he trailed the back of one hand down the front of her body until it reached her waist. Then, turning the palm toward her and timing his movement to match one of Jack's thrusts, he slid the tips of his fingers down and over her clit.
She gasped sharply, her eyes snapping back into focus, staring into him, her senses shocked, almost beyond capacity.
Jack stilled his movements immediately. He couldn't see or feel what the Doctor had done. "What is it?" he whispered in her ear, his voice tense with concern. "Rose, did I hurt you?" He reached up a hand to smooth her sweat-slicked hair from her forehead, brushing his mouth over her neck.
The Doctor's hand stayed exactly where it was, his eyes boring into hers.
"No," Rose choked out. "God, no, don't stop, please..." Her eyes fell closed for a moment, then opened again, unable to look anywhere but into the depths of the Doctor's. Her hips moved backward to reassure Jack. The Doctor's hand went with them. "Don't stop."
The Doctor knew she was talking to him, too, and he was satisfied. For the moment.
Jack began moving in and out of her again, his pace quickening. The Doctor slid his hand down a little further, moving the heel of his palm back and forth, slightly at first, across her clit. Then the pressure grew stronger, and stronger still. Finally, in one smooth motion that took no longer than a second, he curled his second and third fingers and pushed them up and back, deep inside her core.
Time slowed down for all of them then.
Jack muttered an expletive or two as he slid inside her in what felt like slow motion. The Doctor's fingers noticeably increased the pressure on his cock. He could actually feel the Doctor, through Rose, the three of them, together.
And Rose, her eyes locked into the Doctor's, could feel each of them, and feel them sensing each other, in her body, through her body...
Through the ever-thickening cloud in her mind, she felt Jack come, actually felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside her, the added tightness from the Doctor sending him rocketing over the edge.
...too much...
A few more of Jack's now erratic thrusts coupled with the Doctor's palm grinding mercilessly into her clit, the Doctor's fingers pressing back against Jack's movements, the Doctor's eyes enveloping her... and Rose was lost.
* * * * * * *
She exploded with a keening cry that she felt in her throat but couldn't seem to be able to hear. Her lower body jerked gracelessly in orgasmic reflexes she could not control. She felt suddenly and inexplicably invaded by the parts of other bodies inside her own. Her chest tightened, her vision went white behind eyes still open to the Doctor's. She felt every cell in her body vibrating and it numbed her, she heard nothing but a deafening silence and she was drowning. She gasped for air and, without knowing it, began to sob as her body surrendered, collapsing bonelessly between the Doctor and Jack, both of them still inside her and around her and everywhere all at once.
Tears poured from her eyes as her cries intensified, shuddering in her lungs. She felt incoherently desperate for space and sanctity. Her arms shoved against the chests on either side of her, pushing their bodies away from hers, frantic to move them out, outside, so she could find her way back in. She turned onto her back, still pushing, thrashing, away, get away, air, air, and it was not enough. She was suffocating. Her upper body thrust itself off the bed and she doubled over her knees. Her arms wrapped around her chest protectively, her sobs racked her to her bones, and she gave up, and gave in, and let go of any semblance of herself, and cried, and cried, and cried.
* * * * * * *
Jack had just had one of his most powerful climaxes in recent history, but recovered in record time when he realized Rose was beating against his torso in a decidedly unerotic manner. He backed away toward the edge of the bed and blinked in confusion as he tried to regain focus, increasingly horrified that he had done something wrong, had hurt her, had caused this.
Now he felt like even looking at her would be unwelcome, and tears jumped to his eyes. "Rose," he whispered, completely at a loss. He glanced over at the Doctor, who had pulled back to sit up against the headboard. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring intently at Rose's back, stoic as always, almost like he was waiting out a child's tantrum. Jack took a deep breath and reached for her, tentatively. "Rose, sweetheart..."
"No," the Doctor's voice cut in, quiet but sharp. He took his eyes off Rose for a split second to glance darkly at Jack. "Don't touch her, it'll only make it worse."
"How can it be worse?" Jack spit out in an angry whisper. "Look at her. She needs someone to comfort her, and that seems to be my job, seeing as how you..."
"She's not conscious," the Doctor said simply. "She doesn't know where she is. Any physical contact would be perceived by her body as an attack. If you value that pretty face of yours, just stay where you are." He sighed and closed his eyes before glancing at Jack again with as much of a reassuring expression as he could muster. "Don't worry. It's almost over."
Jack stared at him, incredulous. "Don't worry? Is that all you've got? Look at her," he said again, though already she seemed to have quieted a bit. She was still crying, but softer now, a bit more controlled. She took intermittent deep breaths, still racked by shudders. Her hands were crossed over her chest at her shoulders, and she appeared to be rocking slightly, as though trying to soothe herself.
The Doctor didn't respond, at least not in the way Jack expected. Instead, he calmly swung his legs to the floor and reached for his nightshirt. He shrugged it over his shoulders and stood up.
Jack watched him, aghast. "Are you kidding me? You're leaving?" he demanded in as loud a whisper as he could manage.
The Doctor looked back at Rose as he answered. "You were right, comforting her is your job. Stay awake until she falls asleep. You can stay here and sleep next to her, but don't touch her unless she reaches for you."
"You're the one she's going to reach for." It pained Jack a little to say it, but it was the truth, and so help him, if Rose wanted the Doctor when she woke up, then he would damn well make sure the Doctor was there.
"No. She knows I did this. She's going to want you." He turned toward the door.
"And what exactly did you do?" Jack half-whispered, half-shouted after him.
The Doctor left the room without turning around.
* * * * * * *
end of part six
* * * * * * *
part seven
* * * * * * *