Meme (we all love this one) from galeforcehero

[rude_not_ginger]

If you want to have your pup have some sort of sexual relations with mine, comment here! I'll write a drabble/short fiction makin' it happen!

Comments

[galeforcehero.livejournal.com]

Yo.

Doctor/Dorothy 143 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

She's the fairytale, he's the legend, and they lie together under the impossibly blue sky. Clinging, kissing, holding. She murmurs something that could be "I love you" or it could be "I want you", and by now they've learned that both of those phrases apply.

He traces a fingertip down her arm and shoulder; she traces her mouth down his jaw. They're both so old, but still so naive when it comes to this sort of a relationship. They hold each other close to keep from running away.

Storm clouds roll in. Big, fat raindrops pelt them from their comfortable place on the ground, but neither of them hide. He tangles his fingers in her wet hair and she kisses raindrops off of his lips. They may not know their relationship well, but they both know storms.

You can't run from a storm.

[shatteredqueen.livejournal.com]

I can't resist.

Though to spice it up, pick any one of my other muses, as well?

Doctor/Lucy 185 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He's lying on his bed when she approaches him. He's not expecting her. He's not expecting her ever again.

But she comes to him and drapes one long leg over either side of him. She leans forward and presses her mouth to his (soft, gentle), her hair fanning around their faces like a curtain, keeping the rest of the universe out.

She never says 'I love you'. It's better that way, really.

He wraps an arm around her waist, she struggles to pull his clothes off. She kisses him again (firm, desperate), and, at once, they're together. Moving, crying out, feeling each other's emotions. He can feel her ecstasy pour off of her in waves. They shouldn't, they shouldn't, but they do. She bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"You have to let go," she says. "Doctor, you have to let go."

He sits up in bed, awake, startled, and alone. There's no strange darkness, he's never been undressed, and of course she'd never come back. He raises his fingers to his lower lip and his fingertips come back with blood.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Also, who else do you play? I know you play TARDIS and Lucy...

[marthajonesmd.livejournal.com]

>> Moar?

Doctor/Martha 215 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"But if he's what you want, I don't want to stop you."

Of course he had to pull this now. Now that she's in the white dress, waiting just inside of her room for the car to come to take her to the church. If he had it his way, he'd probably be that one who stands up and objects. And now, confessing he always saw her, he was sorry she had to leave, everything. Everything he should've said months ago. Years ago!

"Bastard," she snaps. "You bastard."

He looks a little startled, but he nods. "I just want you to know if you don't want to, I've got the getaway---"

She grabs him by his lapels and pushes him back, up against the wall to her room, and kisses him. He's too startled to respond at first, but then he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. It's a real kiss, a perfect sort of moment. Two people expressing pure emotion. If only the white dress she had pressed up against him was for the Doctor.

She breaks the kiss and smiles sadly. He grins back. She takes two steps away from him, straightens her hair, and heads for the door. His smile turns into a look of confusion.

"Goodbye, Doctor."

[daughterof-evil.livejournal.com]

Sasha needs a Doctor.

Doctor/Sasha

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"You have an affinity for dangerous men."

"You have an affinity for women who won't take your shit."

"You know, I do, actually."

She presses her mouth down his chest, creating fantastic little sensations that shoot up his spine. He, in turn, toys with her ear, tracing small swirls around the sensitive skin.

"Is he going to be terribly angry, you think?"

"Furious."

He draws her mouth back to his and she pulls him closer. She's a bit too brunette to be his usual type, but blimey, she can do fantastic things with her mouth. And not just telling him off.

"I suppose I'll need to stay out of the 21st century for a while."

"He can time travel, too."

"Well, he'll forgive me eventually, right?"

"Nope."

"Right, then, might as well make this evening worth it."

"By that, you mean you want to use room service to order up something with banana, right?"

"Milkshakes."

"Of course."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette AND River (different drabbles). I am sick and needy. :(

Doctor/Reinette 322 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

It is not simply that they are lovers, but also that they love together. Sometimes, while lying in her bed, he will read her the poetry he gave to her on their first Christmas together. Sometimes, she will tell him of the artwork she's seen in the city while he stayed behind and tinkered.

Now, he reads from Lord Wilmot (oh, the scandal of having this book in Madame De Pompadour's library), and she massages oils into his arms and legs.

"An age in her embraces passed
Would seem a winter's day;
When life and light, with envious haste,
Are torn and snatched away." he quotes. She traces a hand down his side, leaving the warm oil in its wake. Her hands are always warm in comparison to him, but now it is even more so.

"But, oh! how slowly minutes roll.
When absent from her eyes
That feed my love, which is my soul,
It languishes and dies."

"Time is always of the essence with you, my Angel," she says, now massaging his thigh. "Even when it comes to love. How slowly or quickly it seems to pass with a lover."

He nods. "Alas, 'tis sacred jealousy,
Love raised to an extreme;
The only proof 'twixt her and me,
We love, and do not dream."

"You are here and have not yet left," she says, and she moves her hands upwards, massaging large circles across his sides. He moans at the sensation. "It is as though I have never woke from a dream. A dream of you."

"Kind jealous doubts, tormenting fears,
And anxious cares when past,
Prove our heart's treasure fixed and dear,
And make us blessed at last."

"If only we could be," she murmurs, raising up to kiss him softly. But for a grounded Time Lord and the King's mistress, there can be no true blessing to their union. It's only what they have that keeps them together.

[erikscordelia.livejournal.com]

Lorna or Belle, your choice ;)

Doctor/Lorna 156 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He takes her to Vornas Sempt. It's a planet made entirely of magnetic waves that one can walk on, around, through. If Lorna revealed her powers, she could be revered (or feared) as a god by the metallic people walking around.

"Can you feel it?" he asks as they walk.

She shudders and clings to his arm. "It's like it's moving through me."

"How so?"

She raises her hand and the waves in front of them swirl around him, brushing cold across his ear, arms, neck. It seems to rush through every pore, waking up every blood vessel and every cell. He stiffens and takes in a deep breath.

"That's…intense."

"It feels like that for someone who can do what I do."

The waves move around them both now, even though she's stopped concentrating on their movements. She leans up and presses a kiss to his jaw.

"Thank you for taking me here."

The cold passes across the sensitive skin on the back of his neck and he nods. "Any time."

[tastefulfashion.livejournal.com]

If you have time for it, maybe, quite possibly, Romana?

Doctor/Romana 228 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

They meet at the edge of the universe. Her TARDIS looks like a lamppost, sitting strange and alien in the dark bleakness of the Edge.

"You're late," she says, snapping shut her book. "But I really should expect this by now."

He's him, but he's regenerated. Changed, different. He looks a lot older than she remembers. He stares at her as though she's a pool of water when he's spent centuries in a desert.

"Doctor? Are you quite all right?"

He takes a few steps towards her, then pulls her to him in a sudden, intense kiss. She gasps in surprise and he sweeps the inside of her mouth with his tongue, savoring a taste he never knew he wanted to know until she was gone.

She gives in, wrapping her arms around his neck and massaging the sensitive skin at the nape. He reciprocates, tangling his fingers in her hair and massaging the same skin. Unlike every lover he's been with in centuries, she knows the pleasure of that touch. She gasps again and pulls away.

"I thought you just wanted to have coffee," she says, her voice breathy. "What's brought this on?"

"I missed you," he says.

"It's only been a few weeks since you last visited. Of course, that was a few regenerations ago for you, it looks like."

"It feels like longer for me."

[heroslayer]

Your mission, should you choose to accept it.

Doctor/Sylar 101 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"That was---"

"Yeah."

"Surprising, too."

"Yeah."

"You're not one of those post-coital blokes who only speaks in single-syllables afterwards, are you?"

"Nope."

"Right. So you should---"

"You talk too much."

"So I've been told."

"Yeah, it's annoying."

"Not a particularly original observation. I didn't know humans could bend like that."

"Ben Bernake."

"I'm assuming that's the individual you stole that power from, not you addressing me."

"Right."

"And the telekenisis was a---"

"Little too kinky for even my tastes, sorry."

"---Well, I was going to say it was different, at least."

"You would like that."

"I would."

[reporter-chloe.livejournal.com]

You know I have to go there. *evil smirk*

Doctor/Chloe 150 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"So how do you make it turn?" Chloe asked, grinning madly as she held the wheel---so to speak—of the TARDIS.

The Doctor circled around her and flipped a control to the side. "Just focus the primordial coordinate transfer here." He reached over and slipped her hand over the wheel.

He looked over her shoulder and grinned, leaning a little into her back. "You're navigating well," he said.

"I-I-I am? I am!" She turned her head to face him, but he kept her grip on the console steady. He could feel her breathe against his neck as he moved her wrists in slow circles. Her breathing changed and he could feel her heartbeat against his chest speed up.

"And we're turning."

"Yeah."

He grinned. She smiled back. "You've got the hang of it, I think."

"Sure you don't want to show me a little longer?"

"Maybe a little longer."

[mrsharker.livejournal.com]

I'm up for it.

Doctor/Mina 205 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Her kisses feel like a bite.

She pulls him to her without effort, like a praying mantis hypnotizing its prey. Her fingers---better suited for playing the piano than luring a lover---entwine with his and she draws him close.

Her mouth tastes like blood.

It doesn't matter how long it's been since she's given in to the beast inside of her, or how long it's been since she's drank blood, she always tastes coppery and sweet. She presses his back to the cold concrete wall and kisses down his neck, stopping to nip along the delicate flesh of his Adam's apple.

The bite is gentle, but her teeth are sharp. Her fangs are extended, and he's powerless to stop her if she chooses to bite.

Her bites feel like kisses.

Bites from a vampire are dangerously erotic. For a man as close to asexuality as he is, it's like being dunked in ice water when he's walked through a desert most of his life. She pulls him into something he doesn't understand. She immerses him in it.

But tonight, she doesn't bite. She kisses him again. The recorded music of her last concert plays through the speakers above them in the auditorium. And they dance to the music she's made.

[tm-aurora.livejournal.com]

Only if you have time. :)

Doctor/Jeanne-Marie / Doctor/Aurora 238 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

She is, at times, very young.

He is, at times, very old.

And yet, neither feel their youth or their age as they dance giddily at the party, a little tipsy on champagne (her) and a little sugar-buzzed from the amount of banana ice cream he's consumed (him). They trip over each other's feet and at some point end up in each other's arms.

They never leave the party. She finds a corner behind the stage and pulls him towards her and he obliges without question. After all, if need be he's very good at running and she's impossibly fast herself. So, really, nothing to fear.

Halfway through the kiss—this pleasantly extended kiss—it changes from soft and sweet to something darker, something more confident and vicious. He starts a little at the change, but tries to go with it, tries to understand it. What's that old saying? Something about lady in the living room…? But he at once misses the soft kiss from moments before.

"Jeanne-Marie," he pulls away a little. "Are you---"

"I'm fine," she snaps, then she smiles. It's not a smile he's seen on her face before. It's no longer young with a simple smile. It's devious, it's seductive, it's old. She saunters past him. He's left behind the stage, out of breath and confused.

He always knew there was a reason he liked coming to these parties, though. Never a dull moment.

OOC: Hope I did okay!

[whatstheddx.livejournal.com]

Hahahaha. I want to see this.

Doctor/House 301 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Doctor House stares at Doctor Smith.

"I'm not doing this," he says.

"Look, mate, it wasn't my---"

"Mate? Mate? Christ, you really are a walking stereotype, aren't you?"

Doctor Smith---as Doctor House refuses to call anyone that idiotic "Doctor" except for Chase---glares, then crosses his arms. "Are you trying to make this worse than it is?"

"Bet you've got the pasty white British skin, too."

"And you've got a British accent hiding under those vowels, you know."

"Yeah, you've got a Scottish one hiding under there, too!"

The narration would like to point out that the two characters in this story are both going ridiculously meta and not doing what the narration instructed them to do.

"Are you kidding me?" Doctor House stares incredulously at the ceiling. "I'm not giving him a blow job. I don't care what you think you want to write. It's not happening!"

"Oh, please, do you have to call it that? I'm on at 7p here."

"Yeah, that's prime time enough." Doctor House looks the skinny Brit up and down. "Besides, with hair like that, he could rear back and gore me."

The narration would like to point out that with the limited word count, the two characters in this story should really just get on with it. In return, the narration will write into this story the much-needed fluid link for the TARDIS---

"Hey!"

---and six hundred American dollars.

"What kind of a cheap whore do you think I am?"

A very cheap whore. And a very desperate time traveler.

"Dammit."

"Fuck."

Now, really. The narration was also nice enough to write in a bottle of flavored lube. Have fun, guys.

"I hate fanfiction writers," Doctor Smith says.

"Yeah, well, that's one thing we've got in common. On your knees, Skinny."

[alien-catcher.livejournal.com]

::shuffles feet::

Ya know, if you're up for it. ;-)

Doctor/Gwen 301 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I can not believe what you lot get into down there."

The Doctor has been called in to assist Torchwood by the one member of Torchwood who has not gone out of the country for spring holidays. And what's she gone off and done?

"Sex pollen," she says. "Are you serious? Seriously serious?"

"I'm afraid so. I imagine Jack must've been keeping this around as a practical joke. Or because he didn't know what it was."

"Do you really think there's anything about sex that Jack doesn't know?"

The Doctor nods. "Right. So, practical joke. Which means he must keep the cure around here…no, no, wait. Not if it's Jack."

"He'd want whoever he got with the planet to shag him to safety."

"Or something along those lines."

Gwen nods, stiffly. "So what do I do? Rhys is out of town with family, and there's nobody here. Is there some sort of artificial sex-stimulator I could take…?"

"Not for this plant," the Doctor shakes his head. "It's very deadly and very precise. You're going to have to have sex within the next…" he looked at his watch. "Twenty minutes."

"Right. So." She straightens her hair a little. "How do we do this?"

"Do…this?"

"You're going to shag with me, right? Cure this? Won't be so bad, I suppose." Gwen smiles, eyeing the Doctor up and down. "Besides, you are a bit dishy."

"What?"

"Do you want me to die?"

"Die? I was going to offer to take you to your husband!"

"Oh." Gwen nods. Right. Off to Rhys. While the very dishy Doctor that Jack talks on and on about is right there. She sniffs, then reaches over to the table and throws the plant in the Doctor's direction, covering him with pollen.

He gapes. "You did not."

Gwen's smile turns into a smirk. "I think I just did. And Jack's desk is open, if you didn't notice."

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

I don't know if I should comment for Drusilla or Leela. You pick? XD

Doctor/Drusilla 387 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

http://rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com/227855.html

I'll write Doctor/Leela next!

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

This one, on the condition that nothing sexual actually happens.

Doctor/Master 318 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He doesn't touch.

Hands are always covered by thick leather gloves, thick velvet gloves, thick decorative gloves---whatever it takes to keep the contact of skin-on-skin to a minimum. Even now, the only skin that touches anything is the tip of the Master's finger to the end of the laser screwdriver. If ever he has to actually handle the Doctor---to move him, to punch him, whatever mood strikes him---he makes sure to put on gloves.

There is no touch.

There is no intimacy.

The Doctor gave that up, the Master reminds him, even as he resets the aging on the laser screwdriver to give the Doctor a mild reprieve from his ancient body. He gave that up back when they were both young. It can never be the same.

"You should see our domain," the Master says. He places his hand against the Doctor's back and leads him towards the window, the cold of his fingertips bleeding through the cotton of the suit. It's not quite touch. Not quite.

"The Earth is ours, Doctor. Not so long now, and the universe. We could rule it together." The thumb of the Master's hand traces small circles on the Doctor's back. Fibonacci sequences over and over---the Master probably doesn't even realize he's doing it. It's a common gesture, a relaxed motion, a show of intimacy. It sends a shiver up the Doctor's spine that he doesn't manage to suppress quickly enough.

"I only have one thing to say to you," the Doctor says.

"Even now?" The Master's voice is low. "Even now, nothing has changed?"

"One thing---"

The gentle touch on the Doctor's back becomes a push, and he finds himself facefirst into the glass. A tooth in the back of his mouth breaks and he spits out blood.

"You know the best part about the Fibonnaci sequences, Doctor?" the Master cracks his neck and pulls on a pair of leather gloves. "They always return to where they began."

[aliengeekgirl.livejournal.com]

Yeah... it has to be done.

Doctor/Tosh 296 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Mind if I join you?" Tosh asks the tall, handsome man that's been sitting alone in the bar not far from her.

He looks surprised, as if he'd forgotten there was anyone in this bar but him. "Oh, yes, please, sorry."

For all his formality with his name, Doctor Smith is actually quite easy to talk to. He listens when she goes on about Owen and Gwen, and then shares a little about himself—a very, very little---and the old friend he just had to say good-bye to. He doesn't understand the reason why people drink to forget. Tosh explains that it's all about giving into desires, easier done with tequila.

"What's tequila?"

Bad question.

Before Tosh realizes it, it's very late. Very, very late. And the number of empty glasses on the table is actually pretty comical. She tells him she should go and he agrees, dropping a few bills onto the table.

"You put down far too much," she says.

"I paid for you, too."

"Yeah, but still! Far too much!"

"Was it? Well, you know, money."

He doesn't apparently understand money, even as Tosh tries to drunkenly explain it to him. He also doesn't understand the implications behind "would you like to come upstairs with me?", but Tosh also manages to explain that to him, too, by giving him a little push backwards onto her bed.

It's a damn good thing they've had this much tequila, she thinks as he presses his cold mouth against her thigh, because otherwise both of them would probably be too awkward to have got to this point. Which would be too bad, because this feels so good.

And, really, for two people as lonely as they are? Clinging to companionship is something they both understand.

[superfarmboy.livejournal.com]

Hot Alien + Hot Time Lord

I like this idea more than I probably should... *shifty eyes*

Doctor/Clark 291 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He is the embodiment of all things American. Truth, justice, and the American way.

The other is the embodiment of all things British. Old, proper, and always right.

Thus, it's not too surprising that when they meet, the first thing they do is argue. Which turns into a rather loud argument. Right versus good, which should one fight for? The young man says that it is always good. The old man says it is always right.

Eventually, someone shoves. The old man would say it was the younger man, being impetuous and immature. The young man would say the old man was the one being immature. In either case, the end result is the old man---while stronger than most humans, certainly not as strong as the young man---pressed up against the wall by the young man, shouting.

"You're wrong!" the old man shouts.

"I don't think so! You don't have any idea what you're talking about!"

"Idiot!"

"Jerk!"

They scowl at each other, tempers still flared, breath heavy. They're both very close, their breaths mingling.

"We shouldn't fight about this," the old man says (perhaps only because he is still pinned to the wall by the young man). "We should work together. Good and right and all that."

"All that. Yeaaaah, I don't think so." But the young man considers the offer, and considers the very dominant position he holds over the old man. And they're very close. He can feel the old man's double-heartbeat speeding up.

"Right, now, Clark, was it? Either let me go, or kiss me."

"What?"

"Honestly, this argument is just that ridiculous."

Of course.

He lets the old man go. "Fine. But you're still not right."

"No, I'm not always good. I'm always right."

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

I call this payback for the kinkmeme. Now do it :|

Doctor/Handy!Doctor 294 Words

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

For one, the human, it is because of a need to connect, to be accepted. He is like everyone around him, but he's not properly part of them. And of all of them, the only one he truly wishes would accept him has, until this moment, never even given him a chance.

For the other, the Time Lord, it is most likely about vanity. After all, this is the ultimate playout of vanity, as the body he's touching and the person he's kissing is---for all intents and purposes---himself.

There is desperation there, in the way that the Time Lord pulls the human to him, and then pushes him to the floor. He grips his hands around the human's wrists and pushes them into the sharp grating. It is a power play, of sorts.

If the human were a companion or even a loved one, then he might be taken to a bedroom or some sort of a soft place. Instead, he is not given anything from the Time Lord, the Time Lord simply takes. Takes emotion, takes sexuality, takes takes takes until the human is winded and has nothing.

It is, perhaps, an embodiment of the Time Lord's own self-loathing.

He does not kiss correctly. It's all tooth and tongue, not any emotion besides need. He licks the other man's neck, tasting human sweat and pheromone. The human tangles his hands in the Time Lord's hair and pulls him back for another kiss. They grind and move together, but there is no rhythm. The human moves too fast, the Time Lord is too hesitant.

The Time Lord digs his nails into the side of the human as he moves over him and the human cries out. The noise is somewhere between ecstasy and pain.

But that is what they have between them. And that is all they have.

[canbebought.livejournal.com]

See if you can manage it. If you can't, try Academy-era Koschei (hid_under_oak

(This is laser_not_sonic mun, hallo!)