Doctor Who Ficlet: HALP (Doctor/Master)
Jan. 8th, 2008 07:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
order_of_chaosTitle: HALP
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Doctor/Master
Summary: The Doctor's being silently defiant. The Master's liking it. Porn.
AN:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
temporalgrace asked for HALP DROPPING OUT OF CAPSLOCK, and I was thinking about porn at the time, so...
Disclaimer: I continue in my not-owning of Doctor Who.
He smirks, dragging his fingernails ever so lightly up the pale column of the Doctor’s throat, enjoying the way the Doctor holds himself perfectly still and aloof – barely breathing, not leaning into the touch. Such a talented liar, his Doctor.
As if the Master can’t feel how much he wants this. As if, when he has yet to allow the Doctor clothes, he can’t see it.
Laughing softly, he pulls back, enjoying the quickly-hidden dismay in the Doctor’s eyes. It would be satisfying to make him beg, right now, but it would also be predictable. The Master has other ideas.
Placing a hand over the Doctor’s mouth, he moves closer, moulding himself to the Doctor’s side. His cock is hard against the Doctor’s hip; his lips brush the shell of the Doctor’s ear. The Doctor’s breath catches, but he remains motionless.
“That’s good,” the Master whispers, his voice dark with lust. “Just like that, Doctor. Don’t move, don’t speak, don’t come until I tell you to.”
His free hand grips the Doctor’s cock, tightening just enough to add an edge of pain to the pleasure, stroking it – not stopping until the Doctor’s whole body shudders with the need to thrust and the Master can’t bear another second of not seeing him come.
“Now, Doctor,” he commands finally. And watches the Doctor break for him.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Doctor/Master
Summary: The Doctor's being silently defiant. The Master's liking it. Porn.
AN:
temporalgrace asked for HALP DROPPING OUT OF CAPSLOCK, and I was thinking about porn at the time, so... Disclaimer: I continue in my not-owning of Doctor Who.
He smirks, dragging his fingernails ever so lightly up the pale column of the Doctor’s throat, enjoying the way the Doctor holds himself perfectly still and aloof – barely breathing, not leaning into the touch. Such a talented liar, his Doctor.
As if the Master can’t feel how much he wants this. As if, when he has yet to allow the Doctor clothes, he can’t see it.
Laughing softly, he pulls back, enjoying the quickly-hidden dismay in the Doctor’s eyes. It would be satisfying to make him beg, right now, but it would also be predictable. The Master has other ideas.
Placing a hand over the Doctor’s mouth, he moves closer, moulding himself to the Doctor’s side. His cock is hard against the Doctor’s hip; his lips brush the shell of the Doctor’s ear. The Doctor’s breath catches, but he remains motionless.
“That’s good,” the Master whispers, his voice dark with lust. “Just like that, Doctor. Don’t move, don’t speak, don’t come until I tell you to.”
His free hand grips the Doctor’s cock, tightening just enough to add an edge of pain to the pleasure, stroking it – not stopping until the Doctor’s whole body shudders with the need to thrust and the Master can’t bear another second of not seeing him come.
“Now, Doctor,” he commands finally. And watches the Doctor break for him.
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-08 12:00 pm (UTC)*SPLUFFS LIKE TEN*
no subject
Date: 2008-01-09 02:28 am (UTC)