Where Do You Think You're Going
folder
1 through F › Doctor Who
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
4,322
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Doctor Who
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
4,322
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Dr. Who, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Where Do You Think You're Going
Authors Notes: Drabble, Thanks to for the quick and beautiful beta by adaliazandra
He sees her lips moving but at some point he’d stopped listening to what she was saying. He fully understands her frustrations with him and doesn’t care about them.
“So this is me… getting out,” she says, but the Doctor runs his hands over the controls, making it impossible for her to do so.
“What’s happening?” she asks as she tries the door, but it won’t open. “Doctor.”
The TARDIS shakes while he sets coordinates, protesting his actions.
“Just listen to me,” he hisses and turns to Martha, who’s staring at him with innocent eyes. “You’re not leaving me.”
Funny, when he thought he’d be taking a prisoner on board he though it would be the Master and not Martha. But what the hell, they both started with an M, close enough.
He watches innocence turn to disbelief, watches as she runs past him and to the console.
“No… no no no, Doctor, something’s not right.”
She still trusts him so he lets her examine him, uncrossing his arms while she puts her hands in his hair and tilts his head this way and that… looking for what? Pupil dilatation… answers? His cock is hard.
“The Master… he must have done something to you.”
Silly little human brains, always rationalizing.
“Some sort of genetic transfer or something, you wouldn’t do this.”
And oh yes that excuse will work perfectly.
“I think you’re right, Martha Jones.”
He pushes her back into the pilot’s chair, following so that he’s on his knees in front of her when her arse hits the seat. He lets her slap him and tear at his skin with her nails until she feels the futility in fighting. He kisses her roughly and grabs her wrists, pushing her hand into his erection, ignoring the wetness he feels on his cheek from her tears.
Feedback adored and cuddled with daily.
He sees her lips moving but at some point he’d stopped listening to what she was saying. He fully understands her frustrations with him and doesn’t care about them.
“So this is me… getting out,” she says, but the Doctor runs his hands over the controls, making it impossible for her to do so.
“What’s happening?” she asks as she tries the door, but it won’t open. “Doctor.”
The TARDIS shakes while he sets coordinates, protesting his actions.
“Just listen to me,” he hisses and turns to Martha, who’s staring at him with innocent eyes. “You’re not leaving me.”
Funny, when he thought he’d be taking a prisoner on board he though it would be the Master and not Martha. But what the hell, they both started with an M, close enough.
He watches innocence turn to disbelief, watches as she runs past him and to the console.
“No… no no no, Doctor, something’s not right.”
She still trusts him so he lets her examine him, uncrossing his arms while she puts her hands in his hair and tilts his head this way and that… looking for what? Pupil dilatation… answers? His cock is hard.
“The Master… he must have done something to you.”
Silly little human brains, always rationalizing.
“Some sort of genetic transfer or something, you wouldn’t do this.”
And oh yes that excuse will work perfectly.
“I think you’re right, Martha Jones.”
He pushes her back into the pilot’s chair, following so that he’s on his knees in front of her when her arse hits the seat. He lets her slap him and tear at his skin with her nails until she feels the futility in fighting. He kisses her roughly and grabs her wrists, pushing her hand into his erection, ignoring the wetness he feels on his cheek from her tears.
Feedback adored and cuddled with daily.