Doctor Who Fic: Wordless Conversation
Oct. 2nd, 2013 06:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eloriekamI really should post the fic with Ten and Peri, since it's been sitting for a while, but instead:
Title: Wordless Conversation
Author:eloriekam/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eloriekam
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: Very much not mine, but I occasionally dream of laying claim to those long fingers.
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Word Count: ~1600
Summary: He's losing himself in her, and she loses herself in him.
Author's Notes: Follow-up to 'Silent, Repetitive Wounds' (Dreamwidth), set in the last sentence of that fic. Plot kitten courtesy ofstarseeker32's curiosity about a phrase at the end. And Catherine Tate, why are your facial freckles so hard to find?? First time writing anything resembling explicit het. If you're on my f-flist, you may or may not know that it's a subject I've recently come to find almost unbearably awkward to the point of squickiness. dtstrainers, your Peter/Donna helped me feel less uncomfortable about explicit het, so thank you. :)
Should D/D not be your thing, please kindly keep scrolling.
Whatever Donna had been expecting when she held the Doctor and he burrowed his face into her chest, this wasn't it. His breath hitched on faint sobs as he shut the world out, for she could feel his eyelashes moving against her skin as he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. She'd expected that.
His hand under her upper thigh was holding on hard, so hard she almost squeaked in protest, but then she felt the other hand in a featherlight dance along her ribcage. Donna drew in a surprised breath at the pleasant tension it triggered, and tried to breathe as evenly as she could with Martian boy sprawled over her in a burrowing cuddle. His tears hadn't stopped, but the second time he brushed his hand along her side, he turned his head a little, as though listening more closely to her heartbeat. He lightly licked the side of one breast, and his lips twitched at her body's response as he loosened his hold on her thigh. She traced one hand from his nape down his spine, and brought her other hand to her lips, kissed her fingers, and laid them gently against his bit of exposed forehead before continuing to run her fingers through his hair, reluctant to speak and knowing he could hear the kiss before the touch.
He didn't move for the frenzy of male comfort, though as he moved his hand around her thigh until his fingers traced along the sensitive inner skin, she could feel all of him moving against her, tightening just a little. He moved his head, no longer burrowing between her breasts, but she could see his eyes were still closed, tears still dripping down to run into the curved valley, a cool pool. The Doctor's breathing was even except for pushed-out sobs, licking up his tears as they slipped down her skin. She gasped, and briefly clutched his hair. He laid one hand against her other breast, and moved it in light circles around and around, staying on the pale, sensitive skin, drawing up goosebumps as she arched up against the touch, but he kept it featherlight.
No, she didn't expect this. His lower hand slipped up one thigh, danced along the hair that was bright against the pale expanse between her hips, and slipped down the inside of the other thigh. Still tonguing up his own tears and circling with his other hand, he reversed the motion, then ran his fingers through the hair, slowly moving lower, before stopping and moving his hand back up, splaying his fingers against the strands. She felt him take a deep breath, and then he licked against one nipple and brushed his forefinger lightly around the other. Donna gasped, and arched again. He moved his other hand again, stroking his fingers firmly against the inside of one thigh and rubbing circles with his thumb, and she shifted that leg a little, still aware of his legs heavy against her and the length on her other thigh. He switched sides, stroking and circling, tongue and other hand still busy against her breasts or moving to touch the freckles by her collarbone and shoulder, and she sighed quietly, contentedly, almost close to a pleased hum, and moved the other leg.
He kept that up for several minutes, neither of them uttering a sound except for gasps or sighs or hitched sobs, his eyes still closed, her hands still holding him and running through his hair, him always waiting for her to let one leg fall outward a little more before moving to the other, his tongue making her gasp and his other hand causing her to shiver, her inner tension drawing ever tighter. Finally, he traced his forefinger along her inner thigh, then ran his fingers through the bright, wiry strands down through the curls, and traced her out, ever so lightly, with his thumb, then all his fingers in turn. She shuddered with each new touch, holding him tighter, arching again.
Donna squeezed her own eyes shut, trying to relax against the waves of tension coiling up and down, the suspense of burgeoning pleasure, and felt him move his hand from her breast to brush against her cheek, fingers dancing to touch against her freckles, then find the unexpected tears squeezing from her eyes. His breath hitched harshly, and she felt him wipe away each tear, then lick and suck the salty warmth, back of his hand briefly tickling her breast before those long fingers brushed along her face again. She kissed the tip of one as it passed over her lips, and held him tighter. He paused, then followed with his other fingers, and she kissed again. She felt a full-mouthed kiss against one nipple, lips and tongue and teeth moving lightly and reverently against the soft flesh around it, and then his thumb and fingers moved again, just there, sparking fiery nerves and making her gasp again.
As he gently explored with one finger, then slipped inwards, she realized: he was losing himself in her. Oh, he could apparently wait more than humans, though she could feel his length was harder than before, but he was lost in exploring every sensation, every nerve and spark that she had, not his own. Donna was glad she had thought that just then, because in the next moment he moved his thumb against her, pressing and flicking, and another finger, and she shuddered, feeling her muscles tighten, all the delightful quivering tautness still unreleased.
She didn't want to open her eyes. She didn't need to. He teased soft smoothness with one hand, explored with his tongue, delved and traced with the other hand, so much sensation, constantly changing and building and yet remaining the same. All him. She was losing herself in him.
His fingers in her pressed lightly, then turned. She arched her hips against him, feeling the tension reaching high, so high, and he crooked and curled and circled just before Donna shuddered and kept shuddering, uttering a high, harsh gasp as his tongue and fingers against her breast added, multiplied, and she couldn't think because she could feel everything, it was all glowing and spiralling and rolling...
When she thought she could think again, she opened her eyes, and looked down at him, the eyes closed, face burrowing against her, and then ran her hand up and down his back. She could see fresh tears against her breast, but as soon as she moved, he turned his head and licked them up again. She sucked in a breath, and stroked his hair. He lay there quietly for a moment, as she felt him quivering a little with tension, and then brought one hand up to her face again, gently running his fingers along her jaw, cheek, forehead, then brushing against the sides of her eyes. The delicate lengths touched on her nose freckles, then traced quickly across her lips. She kissed them, but he didn't move, just rested his fingers to the side of her mouth. Carefully, Donna turned her head, and kissed each fingertip in turn.
He exhaled loudly, a long, sobbing sigh, and touched her forehead again, lightly, reverently, before slipping his hand down to her side, shifting quickly, poised. She rubbed both hands in circles, and he frantically hooked one hand around her upper thigh and very slowly guided himself in with the other, as though torn between courtesy and haste, uncertainty she would change her mind mixed with awareness of her reassurance. She shifted her hips a little, and he sighed, moving his head to burrow between her breasts again, one hand against sensitized skin as the other moved to grab her on each thrust. She wasn't sure he even realized he was doing it, as he frantically gripped at her side, then along her thigh, down her calf, and back up again, finally grasping at her upper arm in a steady tempo that matched the motion of his thumb on her.
His movements became irregular, and she felt herself spiralling higher with him as his hand now grasped at her shoulder and he exhaled loud gasps against her skin, moisture pooling above and below, different sources, the sensations preserved forever. She gripped him hard too, holding him against her and feeling the muscles in his backside dimple and flex.
They released together, her arching upward to meet him, both squeezing their eyes shut ever tighter, holding on to the other, Donna feeling every shudder of the Doctor's and him feeling every one of hers. Slowly, Donna opened her eyes, her breathing slowing, and brought up one hand to kiss her fingertips again and press them against the Doctor's skin. He kissed along the valley between her breasts, then licked at the spots of tears before shifting slightly, moving out of her. He laid one hand against her thigh, running his fingers up and down lightly a few times as his other hand gently touched where he'd gripped hardest.
He kissed her again after several minutes, then, leaving one hand around her thigh, gently tucked the other under her shoulder in a partial hug, fingers lightly massaging and circling, and sighed deeply. She felt them both relaxing into sleep, and slowly ran one hand through his hair, knowing he wouldn't say anything until after he woke up, unwilling to articulate words herself.
It was the most he'd ever told her without speaking, this alien who talked all the time without saying anything, and later she would find it was the most she'd told him without speaking. He hadn't lost his voice, this time, only changed touch to words.
Title: Wordless Conversation
Author:
eloriekam/eloriekamRating: Adult
Disclaimer: Very much not mine, but I occasionally dream of laying claim to those long fingers.
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Donna
Word Count: ~1600
Summary: He's losing himself in her, and she loses herself in him.
Author's Notes: Follow-up to 'Silent, Repetitive Wounds' (Dreamwidth), set in the last sentence of that fic. Plot kitten courtesy of
starseeker32's curiosity about a phrase at the end. And Catherine Tate, why are your facial freckles so hard to find?? First time writing anything resembling explicit het. If you're on my f-flist, you may or may not know that it's a subject I've recently come to find almost unbearably awkward to the point of squickiness. dtstrainers, your Peter/Donna helped me feel less uncomfortable about explicit het, so thank you. :) Should D/D not be your thing, please kindly keep scrolling.
Whatever Donna had been expecting when she held the Doctor and he burrowed his face into her chest, this wasn't it. His breath hitched on faint sobs as he shut the world out, for she could feel his eyelashes moving against her skin as he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. She'd expected that.
His hand under her upper thigh was holding on hard, so hard she almost squeaked in protest, but then she felt the other hand in a featherlight dance along her ribcage. Donna drew in a surprised breath at the pleasant tension it triggered, and tried to breathe as evenly as she could with Martian boy sprawled over her in a burrowing cuddle. His tears hadn't stopped, but the second time he brushed his hand along her side, he turned his head a little, as though listening more closely to her heartbeat. He lightly licked the side of one breast, and his lips twitched at her body's response as he loosened his hold on her thigh. She traced one hand from his nape down his spine, and brought her other hand to her lips, kissed her fingers, and laid them gently against his bit of exposed forehead before continuing to run her fingers through his hair, reluctant to speak and knowing he could hear the kiss before the touch.
He didn't move for the frenzy of male comfort, though as he moved his hand around her thigh until his fingers traced along the sensitive inner skin, she could feel all of him moving against her, tightening just a little. He moved his head, no longer burrowing between her breasts, but she could see his eyes were still closed, tears still dripping down to run into the curved valley, a cool pool. The Doctor's breathing was even except for pushed-out sobs, licking up his tears as they slipped down her skin. She gasped, and briefly clutched his hair. He laid one hand against her other breast, and moved it in light circles around and around, staying on the pale, sensitive skin, drawing up goosebumps as she arched up against the touch, but he kept it featherlight.
No, she didn't expect this. His lower hand slipped up one thigh, danced along the hair that was bright against the pale expanse between her hips, and slipped down the inside of the other thigh. Still tonguing up his own tears and circling with his other hand, he reversed the motion, then ran his fingers through the hair, slowly moving lower, before stopping and moving his hand back up, splaying his fingers against the strands. She felt him take a deep breath, and then he licked against one nipple and brushed his forefinger lightly around the other. Donna gasped, and arched again. He moved his other hand again, stroking his fingers firmly against the inside of one thigh and rubbing circles with his thumb, and she shifted that leg a little, still aware of his legs heavy against her and the length on her other thigh. He switched sides, stroking and circling, tongue and other hand still busy against her breasts or moving to touch the freckles by her collarbone and shoulder, and she sighed quietly, contentedly, almost close to a pleased hum, and moved the other leg.
He kept that up for several minutes, neither of them uttering a sound except for gasps or sighs or hitched sobs, his eyes still closed, her hands still holding him and running through his hair, him always waiting for her to let one leg fall outward a little more before moving to the other, his tongue making her gasp and his other hand causing her to shiver, her inner tension drawing ever tighter. Finally, he traced his forefinger along her inner thigh, then ran his fingers through the bright, wiry strands down through the curls, and traced her out, ever so lightly, with his thumb, then all his fingers in turn. She shuddered with each new touch, holding him tighter, arching again.
Donna squeezed her own eyes shut, trying to relax against the waves of tension coiling up and down, the suspense of burgeoning pleasure, and felt him move his hand from her breast to brush against her cheek, fingers dancing to touch against her freckles, then find the unexpected tears squeezing from her eyes. His breath hitched harshly, and she felt him wipe away each tear, then lick and suck the salty warmth, back of his hand briefly tickling her breast before those long fingers brushed along her face again. She kissed the tip of one as it passed over her lips, and held him tighter. He paused, then followed with his other fingers, and she kissed again. She felt a full-mouthed kiss against one nipple, lips and tongue and teeth moving lightly and reverently against the soft flesh around it, and then his thumb and fingers moved again, just there, sparking fiery nerves and making her gasp again.
As he gently explored with one finger, then slipped inwards, she realized: he was losing himself in her. Oh, he could apparently wait more than humans, though she could feel his length was harder than before, but he was lost in exploring every sensation, every nerve and spark that she had, not his own. Donna was glad she had thought that just then, because in the next moment he moved his thumb against her, pressing and flicking, and another finger, and she shuddered, feeling her muscles tighten, all the delightful quivering tautness still unreleased.
She didn't want to open her eyes. She didn't need to. He teased soft smoothness with one hand, explored with his tongue, delved and traced with the other hand, so much sensation, constantly changing and building and yet remaining the same. All him. She was losing herself in him.
His fingers in her pressed lightly, then turned. She arched her hips against him, feeling the tension reaching high, so high, and he crooked and curled and circled just before Donna shuddered and kept shuddering, uttering a high, harsh gasp as his tongue and fingers against her breast added, multiplied, and she couldn't think because she could feel everything, it was all glowing and spiralling and rolling...
When she thought she could think again, she opened her eyes, and looked down at him, the eyes closed, face burrowing against her, and then ran her hand up and down his back. She could see fresh tears against her breast, but as soon as she moved, he turned his head and licked them up again. She sucked in a breath, and stroked his hair. He lay there quietly for a moment, as she felt him quivering a little with tension, and then brought one hand up to her face again, gently running his fingers along her jaw, cheek, forehead, then brushing against the sides of her eyes. The delicate lengths touched on her nose freckles, then traced quickly across her lips. She kissed them, but he didn't move, just rested his fingers to the side of her mouth. Carefully, Donna turned her head, and kissed each fingertip in turn.
He exhaled loudly, a long, sobbing sigh, and touched her forehead again, lightly, reverently, before slipping his hand down to her side, shifting quickly, poised. She rubbed both hands in circles, and he frantically hooked one hand around her upper thigh and very slowly guided himself in with the other, as though torn between courtesy and haste, uncertainty she would change her mind mixed with awareness of her reassurance. She shifted her hips a little, and he sighed, moving his head to burrow between her breasts again, one hand against sensitized skin as the other moved to grab her on each thrust. She wasn't sure he even realized he was doing it, as he frantically gripped at her side, then along her thigh, down her calf, and back up again, finally grasping at her upper arm in a steady tempo that matched the motion of his thumb on her.
His movements became irregular, and she felt herself spiralling higher with him as his hand now grasped at her shoulder and he exhaled loud gasps against her skin, moisture pooling above and below, different sources, the sensations preserved forever. She gripped him hard too, holding him against her and feeling the muscles in his backside dimple and flex.
They released together, her arching upward to meet him, both squeezing their eyes shut ever tighter, holding on to the other, Donna feeling every shudder of the Doctor's and him feeling every one of hers. Slowly, Donna opened her eyes, her breathing slowing, and brought up one hand to kiss her fingertips again and press them against the Doctor's skin. He kissed along the valley between her breasts, then licked at the spots of tears before shifting slightly, moving out of her. He laid one hand against her thigh, running his fingers up and down lightly a few times as his other hand gently touched where he'd gripped hardest.
He kissed her again after several minutes, then, leaving one hand around her thigh, gently tucked the other under her shoulder in a partial hug, fingers lightly massaging and circling, and sighed deeply. She felt them both relaxing into sleep, and slowly ran one hand through his hair, knowing he wouldn't say anything until after he woke up, unwilling to articulate words herself.
It was the most he'd ever told her without speaking, this alien who talked all the time without saying anything, and later she would find it was the most she'd told him without speaking. He hadn't lost his voice, this time, only changed touch to words.
no subject
Date: 2013-10-03 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-05 05:41 pm (UTC)this is so beautifully and tastefully rendered I'm in awe.
*hugs* This means SO much to me coming from you, thank you. :)
(Sorry, I wish I'd replied yesterday because I probably would have given a more articulate response [once I got over the speechlessness] to your wonderful review.)
no subject
Date: 2013-10-18 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-05 05:27 am (UTC)>>...the second time he brushed his hand along her side, he turned his head a little, as though listening more closely to her heartbeat. He lightly licked the side of one breast, and his lips twitched at her body's response as he loosened his hold on her thigh. She traced one hand from his nape down his spine, and brought her other hand to her lips, kissed her fingers, and laid them gently against his bit of exposed forehead before continuing to run her fingers through his hair, reluctant to speak and knowing he could hear the kiss before the touch.>>
*thud* It's both him checking on her and her reassuring him AND it's damn sexy at the same time. HOW woman, HOW?!
no subject
Date: 2014-01-18 02:46 am (UTC)Apparently I've hit the rambly stage of the evening.... I just left a super long reply to a comment from dtstrainers. I also think I have a permanent blush after reading her comment and your comment!
Mmm, I need to install cushions in here! And *blushes again* I really have no idea, honestly! The words spill out, and I think they might have a touch bias because I'm touched so rarely, and I don't think about smell so much (as hot as it can be, I'm always slightly baffled when people talk about smells in fics). But, uh, basically, the muse pilots and takes off. I'm still trying to parse out exactly why I wrote him asking permission two times... all I can think is that the Doctor has some rather definite rules/lines about consent (which he occasionally tramples over with respect to some things).
no subject
Date: 2014-01-18 02:21 pm (UTC)Oh and he could "smell her pheromones/lust" or whatever, has SO many issues:
- it does NOT replace consent (a girl can be aroused but still decide this isn't the right thing to do)
- IS used to replace consent, when younger tumblr writers (especially) trip over their own feet being politically correct in showing a girl can get aroused too
- is WAYYYYY overused in fic in general
- should only be, imo, in a case where a character has supernatural senses (like the Doctor, or a superhero, or a vampire, or whatever). Actual regular humans who can smell changes in their partner's bodily odors…well, it's rare, and sorry, it's gross!
- is always going to elicit an internal "ick" response from me.
Yeah, unless it's (faint) aftershave, I really DON'T want to smell a guy when I am close to him, sorry now I'M the one who is rambling but this is one of my pet squicks!
no subject
Date: 2013-10-09 03:07 am (UTC)Seriously love, this is gorgeous! Despite, or perhaps because of, the lack of speech between them, it's incredibly evocative, and very moving, and I love it.
What do you know? I can manage vaguely articulate after all, lol
no subject
Date: 2013-10-18 06:00 pm (UTC)Thank you so much, I'm really glad you enjoyed it so much. *blushes*
no subject
Date: 2015-11-14 08:08 am (UTC)Was this in response to a "no dialogue" challenge? Or is that just coincidental?