Title : Five Times The Doctor F*ck*d Rose Tyler and One Time She F*ck*d Him (6/6)
Pairing : Nine/Rose
Genre : Smut/Romance/Humour
Rating : Adult
Word Count : 6116 (total)
Status : Complete
Summary : He saw the flash of desire in her eyes and he gave in. He'd wanted this for so long and if she wanted it too... then why not?
According to the Doctor, the TARDIS was sick -- and it was all his fault. He'd been neglecting her. He'd seriously fallen behind on his usual routine of fixing her. He'd been far too busy with, er... servicing... other things.
Rose humphed and folded her arms -- servicing indeed! She looked at the console suspiciously, sure that the TARDIS was faking it.
She tried to put her theory to the Doctor but he wouldn't have any of it. The TARDIS was sick, she needed some TLC and that was the end of it. Except to add that while he was playing Doctor to his sick TARDIS, he couldn't have any distractions. There was plenty of fixing to catch up on, which meant he couldn't... service, other things for a while.
Rose sighed heavily, looked at her watch, then asked just how long this TLC was going to take. Ten minutes? Half an hour? An hour?
The Doctor was decidedly vague with his reply. A Day? A Week? Certainly no more than a month.
Rose's jaw dropped. A month! She had a moment of panic, but then she realised that she was worrying over nothing. There was no way the Doctor could keep his hands off her for a whole month, and told him so.
"You'll never do it."
He was curious. "I'll never do what?"
She smiled that knowing smile of hers. "You'll never be able to resist me."
He crossed his arms and gave her the 'look'. "Rose Tyler, clearly you don't know me if you believe that."
But Rose wasn't put off. "Oh I know you better than you think I do, Doctor." And with a smirk, Rose turned and sashayed out of the console room, looking suspiciously like a girl with a plan up her sleeve.
The Doctor watched Rose's swaying hips with rising interest. When she was gone, he looked down at his now 'risen' interest and had to admit that she might have a point.
He glanced back to the console and remembered that the TARDIS was sick, so with some effort he put Rose to the back of his mind, reached for his sonic screwdriver and set to work fixing the TARDIS. However, his mind kept straying to what Rose had said. She'd seemed so sure of herself. And if he knew Rose Tyler -- which he did -- she was up to something.
He looked forlornly at the 'vortex disruption junction box' and wondered why the little green light wasn't flashing. He ransacked his pockets for a spare bulb and while he was screwing it in, he decided that whatever Rose had planned he would resist it -- and her. So it was with a renewed tenacity that he aimed his sonic screwdriver at the 'configuration coupling unit', deciding that Miss Rose Tyler was (for the moment) absolutely not on his to - do list. And with his previous concerns now pushed aside, he threw himself into the repairs.
He'd only been on the job for ten minutes when Rose re-appeared, and from what the Doctor could make out from his vantage point under the console, she wasn't wearing much. Not very much at all.
She click-clacked around the console in a pair of cream high heel peep-toe shoes, getting his attention. He swallowed hard and stared at the pale-pink polish on her toenails.
Rose bent down and peered at him where he lay. "Hello."
Not wanting to appear rude, he looked at her and, oh sweet mother of Rassilon he really wished he hadn't. She was wearing a cream baby-doll negligee that was trimmed with fluffy cream marabou feathers. He hadn't seen her in that before. Must be new. He closed his eyes for a second, hoping his resolve would stiffen instead of... other things.
He opened his eyes again and saw that Rose was smirking. That was a definite smirk. Oh he wasn't having any of that. That wasn't allowed. He reached deep within himself and found his determination to finish what he'd started.
"Hello," he said. "Bit busy here, Rose. Can it wait?"
Rose's smirk flickered a little. She'd felt sure the negligee would do the trick, and therefore hadn't really thought beyond that. She put her hand on the Doctor's knee then traced her fingers higher.
The Doctor batted her hand away. "Sick TARDIS," he reminded her, and carried on fixing things as though she wasn't there. Rose pulled a face, stood up and stomped out of the console room, slamming the door to the corridor behind her.
Alone again, the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, then scowled disapprovingly at the beast stirring bitterly in the confinement of his jeans.
"Down boy," he muttered, and reluctantly, the beast did what it was told.
Another ten minutes passed, and once again the Doctor heard the click-clack across the console room floor that signaled Roses' return. But this time he was ready for her, or at least he hoped he was.
He was on the other side of the console on his knees, he'd removed a panel and was trying to re-connect a loose wire. Then he looked up and saw her, and at once he realised that he was not ready for her, not in the slightest bit.
Black chiffon bra and knickers, held together with no more than a few lengths of narrow pink ribbon. The shoes were different too, now they were shiny black patent leather, with silver spiked heels. The outfit did nothing for his blood pressure and far too much for his libido. He was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Rose was actively trying to kill him. Didn't she know he was over nine hundred?
He sat quite speechless watching her every movement as she walked over to him, only stopping when she was directly in front of him. Close enough to lick, he thought, and then stomped on that thought. Oh but he could breath in her scent, he could almost taste her on his tongue, and kneeling before her like he was, it would only take him to dip his head slightly and he'd be able to... to...
He swallowed hard, focused his thoughts. "Anything I can help you with?" he asked lightly.
Rose frowned. She couldn't believe it! Even the black outfit had failed her. Furious, she turned on her spiked silver heels and trotted off, not even bothering to answer him.
The Doctor remained on his knees, hands gripping the edge of the console table, while another part of him was still standing to attention a good five minutes after Rose had gone.
Ten minutes later the Doctor looked up, but there was no click-clack of heels. Twenty minutes later he looked up, but the door to the corridor did not open. He knew he should feel relieved, but somehow he wasn't.
It took another hour before he heard the door to the corridor swing open, and his hearts leapt with expectation. He'd been standing with his back to the door, busy with the consoles central column, so he swung around unable to keep the grin from his face, wondering what delight would meet his eyes this time. He frowned slightly.
Rose was leaning against one of the console room struts and smiling sweetly. She was dressed in her usual jeans, T-shirt, hoodie and trainers. She walked right up to him and continued to smile sweetly.
"Hello," she said.
"Hello," he replied, still a little... surprised.
"I've been behaving badly," she said, sounding as though she'd been thinking things over in her absence.
"I have." She nodded. "I've been playing dress up, trying to turn you on with silly human underwear." She tilted her head and smiled again. "You should feel insulted."
"I'm not. I don't. I wasn't," the Doctor said, covering all bets. He hesitated slightly. "It wasn't silly underwear."
"Still," Rose said softly, running her fingers down the front of his jumper and innocently playing with the button of his jeans. "I've been playing this all wrong. I see that now. I should have used science."
"Science?" the Doctor echoed in disbelief.
Rose flicked his jeans button open with a quick grin. "Biology," she said and dropped to her knees in front of him.
The Doctor's mouth went dry as he looked at her. "I... I'm more a physics man myself," he said.
Rose tugged down his zip, slipped her hand around his eager cock and looked up at him through heavy lashes. "Biology," she said with a little grin and kissed the tip of his cock.
The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, although he wasn't sure what. Oh he had words, he always had words, it was just that for now at least they were entirely in the wrong order. He looked down at Rose, saw her swirl her tongue around the head of his straining cock, and for a second he stopped breathing. He watched her take his cock deep into her mouth, past soft lips, over that wicked tongue and deep into her warm mouth, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat.
He thought that pleasure had finally been defined, but then Rose Tyler began to suck him and as he gripped the console table he realised that she had moved all goal posts.
Her head bobbed back and forth, as her hand found his balls, teasing and tormenting in equal measure. She pulled back until she was just sucking on the head of his cock, one hand holding him tight, repeatedly beating him into her mouth in time with each delicious suck of the head.
He was gasping now, one hand had come to rest at the back of Rose's head, not forcing her to take more of him, as a lesser lover might, but gently holding her, his fingers pushing through her blonde hair.
"Rose," he whispered her name.
She looked up at him and he was amazed that she could smile so brightly with her eyes. She grew even more eager with her mouth as he watched her.
"Rose, please..." His fingers curled into her hair and he groaned. "You have to stop... really..."
She dropped her hand away from him, and took his entire length into her mouth. Pleasure rippled through him as he watched her take him. Each time she sucked him, each time she drew him deeper, the head of his cock would strike the back of her throat and he would feel another thread of his control snap. He had to make sure that she knew what would happen if...
"Rose, if you don't stop... Rose... I'm going to..."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and bright, and she doubled her efforts.
His hearts shook as he gazed into her brown eyes and with a sudden surge of overpowering love for her he understood that she had no intention of releasing him, she never had.
So be it.
He pushed both his hands into her hair, holding her there as he began his own rhythm. He pushed into her hungry sucking mouth, each time firmer, each time deeper, and each time she took more.
"Rose," he whispered her name in time with each thrust. "Rose, Rose, Rose. Oh... oh... fuck... Rose..." He closed his eyes as a lightning strike of pleasure ripped through his body. He shuddered as his cum filled Rose's mouth and he felt her swallow around him, gulp him down over and over. He fed her everything and she ate every drop. Finally when she released his spent cock, she held it in her hand and licked the last traces of his cum from the seeping head. Then she looked up into his eyes, licked her lips and smiled.
He dragged her to her feet, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her, tasting his own flavour in her mouth. She clung to him and kissed him back with love and passion and every fluttering breath of her soul.
The Doctor swept Rose up into his arms, his hearts bursting with happiness and carried her to his bed -- their bed -- where he would make her his and only his, a thousand times over.
As the sounds of Rose and the Doctor's lovemaking filled the air, the TARDIS decided to stop pretending to be sick. There was no way she could compete with that.