rude_not_ginger | AU RP for ambitious

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AU RP for ambitious_woman

Illness

A Time Lord shouldn't be separated from his TARDIS. He knew this, it was a fairly simple, fairly straightforward rule that every Time Tot was taught back in the nursery. Time Lord and TARDIS were connected, part of a whole, part of a sum and all that. There were horror stories that Ushas used to tell over nightcom about Time Lords who had been without their ship for long periods of time and went insane, or worse. The "worse" was, of course, described in accurate, gruesome details, much to the 'ooooh'ing and 'aaaahhh'ing of those listening in.

The Doctor just never believed he'd be on the end of that sort of experience.

His ship was a lifetime away. More than that, lifetimes away, and he could feel it. He could feel the lack of a ship in his mind and it ached. More than ached, it was as if a large part of him was missing and he'd only just lost the anesthetics keeping the sensation of missing away.

He had meant to do a good deal today, most of which involved bothering the cook into frying chips and rewriting Reinette's library. These were his main plans, and they were good ones.

As it was, he was curled up on the floor of his bedroom, the shakes and stomachache from the night before having finally decided that his lack of response on the matter was unacceptable. He cried out sharply, a noise that only vaguely sounded human, and may have been a name.

"Reinette!"

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His hands slipped up her back, tracing bare skin as he slid her skirt off. Hips and leg were suddenly very avaliable to touch, and it had been such a long time (or a short time, depending on how he looked at it) since he'd been able to touch her, before.

"Reinette," he murmured against her ear. He was pretty sure he had something very witty or seductive to say, but he hadn't the faintest idea what. Instead, he resumed placing kisses along her pulsepoint, tracing them along her jaw, and back to her mouth.

So much was developing. He'd lost his past, and gained a lover, and fallen rather deeply into this world he'd trapped himself in. In that moment? He wouldn't have traded it.

"That is my name, yes," Reinette murmured, knowing that such was only partially the truth. The name was an old one, a childhood fancy of her father's. It was still fresh, and treasured, which she boldly shared it with the Doctor. Yet now, as a woman, no one else called her by that except him.

But with the Doctor, she could be no one else but Reinette.

She moved to a sitting position, hips brushing his own as she studied him through the filtered light. Nails traced over skin as she wondered if this was what fifteen years must feel like for everyone. She caught his hand, fingers lost into the warm corner of her mouth? And that? Is it what they years should taste of?

Or what it just them.

He smiled at her response, tasting the words against her mouth. Always had an answer, Reinette did. There wasn't any other way he'd want her, he decided. Herself.

He looked up at her and traced a hand down her form. Reinette. The reason for being trapped and the reason he was still alive, all in one neat, rather lovely package. There were days he wanted to blame her for his being trapped, but they were fewer and farther between as they stayed together, and she continued to save him in return.

He lifted himself up to embrace her again, and pressed a kiss to the skin above her heart.

He sat up as well, and they were pressed together, entwined. Skin touching skin in new and unknown ways. His mouth across her chest and Reinette could only shiver. After all, one may kiss Madame de Pompadour's cheek, her hand or her wrist. Even the flush of skin above the bodice of her gown. But she was so rarely without the finery and trappings of court life.

But here she was exactly that -- without. And with him all at once. And though Reinette was not sure if she entirely agreed with the Doctor's objections to her clothing? She did know she much preferred the way his fingertips brushed over her ribcage than any silk she had yet to discover.

His lips lingered on the skin above her heart, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. For all the lust and sexuality that ran through his veins (an unusual feeling, for him), he also felt the sudden, unusual urge to cling. She was, literally, all he had in this world. Especially now, as he didn't even have his own memories.

Wordlessly, he pulled himself back and looked up at her. Hair wild, mostly undressed, mussed and beautiful, and she was in his arms. He raised a hand up to touch her cheek, then slid it higher, pressing his fingertips against her temple.

"Can I...?"

For herself, Reinette had grown markedly quiet. Her wit might return later, or it might not. Words could come, or they could abandon her. But there was too much she wished to memorize in this moment.

She was accustomed to life all but storming by at a frantic pace that she along dictated. But this, between them? Was slow. It ached, and throbbed. Not just in blood, and muscle, but in softer, less defined places. Dark, and intimate. She did not want to forget what this felt like.

Her head turned sligtly, encouraging his touch. The she lifted his other hand, moisture from her mouth still lingering there. She brought it to her other temple.

And then she kissed the Doctor, her assent deeply tangled there.

He kissed her deeply and needily, feeling almost as though he was pulling her energy from her, helping to fuel himself after a long, frightening ride.

In payment, he opened up his mind wide, as wide as it could go with the walls blocking off a large section of it, and offered her everything. Pains, insecurities, secret adoration that he'd managed to keep silent. The thing he was loathe to call love, but grew so quickly and so strongly, it could only have been that emotion.

His mouth moved as they connected, words in his native tongue that his own mind, completely open, would've translated easily for her, if she desired it.

Reinette did indeed feel as if she were being drawn up inside him, and there was something deeply sensual in that action. No matter how powerful they might be, ultimately? Women were the vessel. Often a place to be occupied, more than a person. But for this moment it felt as if they were -- in one place. Something was shared, rather than occupied. There was a soft moan that undercut her sigh as they connected.

The wall was still there, solid, and in Reinette's mind at least she lipped between him, and it as she opened up her own thoughts as well. She might not have the stars as he knew them, but she did have how she had seen them through him. It was unique, a hazy filter of silverly blue draped over them. It teased across exposed, sensitive skin as she offered it freely.

The first wave of his emotion washed over her, and Reinette briefly struggled with it. She tasted each of the achingly familiar words with her mouth, assuring that none were gratitude. Or at the very least, gratitude alone. Fingernails catching at the Doctor's shoulders, she kissed him deeper still.

His hands slipped down her back, her arse, her thighs, tracing the length of her. His mind made to memorize each and every part of her body, to place it somewhere safe that he would never, ever have to block off or forget. She was too important, all of this was too important to ever forget.

You are beautiful. Age, time apart, none of it mattered, because, in the end, she was still Reinette, and he was still the Doctor, and they were too entwined for them to be anything but.

With that, he moved his hips up, sliding slowly, achingly slowly, inside of her. Pleasure arched along his skin, and he gave that to her, as well.

His hands still rested on her temples, so as he filled her Reinette's own fingers slipped down to curl over his hips, locking them both effectively together. She did not gasp because the the moment was unexpected. Indeed it seemed it might be some six months in the making. The unguarded sound from the back of her throat had everything to do with how perfectly good he felt.

You are not exactly unkind on the eyes yourself.

Her eyes, or anyone else's, Reinette thought not for the first time. Including rather insipid blonds in the possession of fans. She shifted her hips then, sharply, allowing him deeper entry.

He bit down on his lip---her lip, he realized---as he moved deeper within her. His hands moved but seemed to stay in the same place, but perhaps that was simply them, simply moving within each other.

His lips twitched against hers into a smirk. He could feel the jealousy she had towards the blonde with the fan, and it was flattering. The blonde would never be the blonde in his arms at that moment, and, therefore, she was nothing to him. There were few he'd open his hearts to, and they needed to be special. Very, very special.

I do my best not to terrify.

He broke their kiss, only to taste her throat, trying to recapture that spot that caused her to cry out before.

Her hips continued their own gentle rise and fall, simply refusing to leave all the effort as it own. Of course, as her pulse threaded and a new heat flared to the surface of her skin, it became less thought, and more instinct.

Her thoughts were reserved for the Doctor, dancing around and over his own in their own caress.

Oh," Reinette laughed, the sound throaty and thick with passion. She could taste where his teeth had marked her lip. I do not know. I rather think you do all right.

His mouth found its way to where throat slipped down into shoulder, and Reinette gasped.

Her hips curled deeply again, as she turned them both so that her palms were flat in the valley of his shoulders, a feline in full pounce.

She recalled a certain conversation, shared playfully on their way to Louis' ball.

Growl for me<.i>

Playful and yet deadly serious. As it seemed to be for their relationship from the very beginning. A cheeky conversation through a fireplace, a flirtatious smirk and a sudden snog, a teasing conversation and a very serious connection.

The growl formed in his throat before he even thought to hold it off to tease further. His lips rumbled against her throat, and he thrust sharply and deeply within her.

A sentiment I think we should share.

His lips teased against her skin and Reinette shivered, hips faltering as she felt it travel sharply from the tips of her fingers all the the way down to her toes. One leg hitched higher, wrapping itself around his waist just as he thrust that much deeper within her.

A broken moan unmasked itself as her teeth caught his shoulder as Reinette sought some sort of anchor.

I think you are determined to get the last word...

Her tongue traveled over the mark on his shoulder.

By taking away my own...

The pain was sharp, but real, too, and that was good. He let out a hiss at the sensation--the pain of the mark, but the pleasure of her movements. Another work in contradictions.

Well, you know how much I enjoy the last word.

Companion. Friend. Ally. Reinette had so many titles in his mind already, adding 'Lover' to that mix seemed easy, even redundant. They had been lovers before, perhaps only once physically, but mentally? They had connected in ways more intimate many, many times before.

His tongue slid up her sternum, then back down, tracing her breasts, adding the sensation and the taste to his memories.

In her own way, she had remained faithful to him. In an unspoken, undemanded fashion. There was nothing said between them that kept Reinette celibate. And yet she had been just that.

Perhaps for the simple reason is that once the Doctor took up days, rather than hours in her life? She saw little else. It was not a choice that Reinette once regretted. Not for all the questions. Not for Louis' demands.

And that way it could have remained. She was fully prepared for as much. But something had shifted, and now there could be no mistaking the flush that traveled across skin that had been abandoned from touch. A moan, a hiss of breath so distanced from herself Reinette did not recognize her own voice.

His name tumbled free too, at the feel of his mouth on her breast.

The last word then...what else though? What else do you enjoy?

He could feel the flush of her skin against his own, and his mouth focused on sensitive areas, the slight bite of teeth and the brush of tongue to keep them stimulated.

Long walks in the park, stargazing, candlelight---

She shifted her hips, and that train of thought was replaced with some incoherant babbling about how he enjoyed this.

She had that way about her, the slight movement, or a turn of hand or phrase that would correct him. Put him where he belonged when he tried to stray, deliberately or unintentionally. It was the reason he adored her. He could not desire a woman who did not know how to stand up to him, for there would be no challenge in that.

And while her human body may have been frailer than his Timelord one, there was no doubt in his mind who was stronger.

She translated that incoherent babbling quiet well.

There were a few consonants, several elongated vowels, a moan that made Reinette quite glad they were reclined as her knees went weak, all ending on a rather tempting purr. She cut a trail of tongue and teeth along his chest until her lips settled over and ear, gently tracing its shell.

I enjoy all of that as well.

Inner muscles contacted -- for she was well taught in many things -- pulling him deeper, closer. Brushing against the very start of her pleasure and letting him feel it as well.

Her eyes sparked with stars of a different sort.

He moaned. A very undignified and wholly un-Time Lord-y sound, but one of intense, intimate, and instinctual pleasure. A very alliterative sort of pleasure, which only made it that much better, in his very busy mind.

His hands slid from her forehead to wrap around her, pulling her close as they moved together. Their connection didn't break as it would have with another human, only more proof of how very, deeply connected they were. Rather dangerous, that sort of connection.

Is it wrong to say I enjoy you?

He caught her mouth again, kissing her deeply and without hesitation.

A narrow bead of sweat traveled down her back and even though Reinette was aware of it, she did nothing to interfere. It teased at her skin even as he teased at her. And then his hands traced over her, sweat like oil under the Doctor's hands and she shivered.

His fingers were close. Then closer. Then something slightly further away. All the while smelling of ink, and earth, and whatever else might have caught his attention that day. It seemed to her vaguely something like cinnamon, all bleeding together with what made him -- him.

I might confess to being devastated if you were not enjoying yourself.

Laughing, Reinette sucked lightly on his tongue from within their kiss, bringing that more more of him inside.

Physically. Mentally. He was completely surrounded by her, like a shell that held and protected the soft and vunerable inside. He had been falling apart, quite literally, and it was her who held him together.

His thrusts increased in speed, and he pressed his own pleasure, gently, onto her. If he was not enjoying himself, indeed. Every touch, every moan, every movement. She probably did not realize how much she affected him, but that was all right. If he gave everything away at once, well, that wouldn't leave more for later.

He smiled against her mouth.I doubt it would be possible for me not to enjoy myself, Reinette.

He was, quite literally, everywhere. Something had all but lifted her from the bed to fully settle over every inch of her skin. Fill is the dark spaces behind her eyes, curl over her tongue. The scent of their mingled sex filled the room but it was more than that. It was his impression of it too. The way he thought, and felt, washing over her. Reinette did not think she had even felt for beautiful. Not after an entire day lost to her dressing room. Silently, she admitted as much even as her body shuddered.

And oh yes, it seemed her toes curled as well.

I used to brush my hair each night by the fireplace, and pretend it was your fingers in my hair.

She arched her hips to meet increased thrust to increased thrust, elongating each journey. Hip to hip, then apart, and then together again.

It had just about gotten impossible to breathe. She was everywhere, and France was gone, and the Time Vortex, and the thousands of years separating him from everything he knew were just gone and it was them and their connection and everything. Just them.

She had a lifetime of waiting for him. He had months of watching the door between them, knowing she slept and wishing he knew how to feel his emotions for her. So many things he couldn't share because, as always, he was the Doctor. Too much history with that name, too many memories to sleep a full night, even if he knew it would be in her arms.

The Doctor remembered being afraid of admitting there was something between them. He remembered being afraid of what was between them. He remembered being afraid of losing what was between them, of reducing what he'd come to admit he felt for her to bodies and a bed. It was more than that. Making love to her was more than that.

His hand raised, catching her hair. His fingers tangled in the undone curls, but the sensation of them, the silky, fluid-like sensation of her hair seemed to tingle across the nerves of his fingers.

Had I the way, I'd take away those years of waiting.

Her answer to that, Reinette supposed, was not original. It was nothing that several people had not already told him -- shared through their own naked emotion through the years. She had seen that. Sensed that. Understood that. But it did not make it any less true.

You are worth it.

Not were worth it. Are. Even after the events of the afternoon. Even separated from more than half of what he was, and would be again, the sentiment still held true.

She was breathing his air now, they were that close. It was hot, but it was theirs. And much like the words that had been uttered before, Reinette still imagined that in many ways, they could still belong to her.

After all, there might have only been one Doctor? But there was only one her as well. So the two of them were utterly unique. His kiss, to her mouth. His touch, on her skin. The bed that cradled them instead of the music room of before. It was theirs. And the words? Hers then.

Reinette's hips faltered slightly as a fresh wave of pleasure caught her but did not quite take her away.

You are worth the waiting.

Worth the waiting. Worth the monsters. She seemed to believe he was worth a great deal. Silly of her, he thought. To believe an Academy dropout and an exile with no home, no money, not even all of a brain was worth everything.

She must not have been fanciful in the music room before. She must love him. To do everything she did, after everything he had done, it could only have been love.

And, he supposed, considering he had no reason not to say it...

A wave of pleasure coursed up his body, and he realized some of it was hers, too. He doubted that he'd ever had a sexual encounter as intimate as this. As completely connected.

One hand moved from holding her to her front, where he could gently rub and stimulate her most sensitive area.

AU RP for ambitious_woman

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