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There’s an unusual calm in the Tardis that evening. There had been no distress calls for several hours, so Yaz and the Doctor decide to enjoy the peace and quiet the ship offers them in moments like this, as much as the Doctor wants to visit some faraway planet, or do some maintenance on the ship.
So they’re slouched on a wide, comfortable sofa in the library as Yaz reads a mystery novel and the Doctor solves, for the fifth time in the last hour, the same Rubik's cube. After what happened during the Flux, the alien is happy to enjoy these little moments with the woman she loves. And she’s trying to be more open and honest with her feelings, with everything that fuzzes inside her brain. She promised Yaz to tell her everything, and she's doing it, little by little. She’s learnt to appreciate the benefits of not running constantly, or being on alert all day in case anything happens.
Yaz has taught her well.
“Hey,” the Doctor says after a while, looking into Yaz’s eyes. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
“A hundred times a day, yeah,” Yaz replies jokingly, nudging the Doctor as she smiles, raising her eyebrows. “But I love it when you say that.” Her eyes stare at the blonde lovingly.
“I like you. A lot,” she asserts, her lips pressed together as the crease on her forehead appears.
“I like you too, Doctor.” Yaz closes the book, not even bothering to put a bookmark between the pages, and she whispers as she gets closer to the blonde’s face, “Really, really like you. And you’re really cute when you make that face.”
“Is that an invitation to kiss?”
“Do you want to kiss me?” she replies, her words like velvet caressing the Doctor’s skin.
“Can I kiss you?”
Yaz doesn't bother to reply and she joins her lips with hers immediately, cupping the Doctor's face and pulling her so, so close, until she’s straddling the alien. She gets lost into the kiss, savouring it as her hands pull up her t-shirts a little to feel the blonde’s cool skin on her palms. The Doctor’s breath hitches when Yaz cups her left breast tenderly and slowly, pinching her nipple with her expert fingers. Her hips buckle and the brunette feels something growing hard in the Doctor’s trousers. She raises her eyebrows and looks at her with sheer curiosity.
“Doctor… what is this?” Yaz’s hand softly cups the semi hard bulge, and the blonde replies with a quiet moan, thrusting her hips into her hand.
“I… Huh…” She stammers, unable to speak.
“Did you pack today?” Her brown eyes look at her, filled with curiosity, trying to know what’s going on inside her brain. A quite particular brightness in her eyes that makes the Doctor feel completely safe and sound.
“It’s not exactly that…” The Doctor moves her head to avoid Yaz’s gaze. She bites her lower lip as she toys with the hem of her t-shirts. “I mean, it is, and I did, as a matter of fact, but I wanted to see if those bio-engineered dildos that I have could be used for that.” She swallows hard, a little guilty. She likes this body, she really does, but she also likes how she can experiment with it, and how Yaz doesn’t judge her.
“And what is your verdict?” Yaz asks softly, grabbing her chin so their eyes can meet again. She’s asking genuinely, her gaze so soft the Doctor practically melts on the spot. “D’you like it?”
“Yeah! It’s… good. I like it.” She licks her lips, her eyes innocent, her guilt dissolving. “Feels good. Really good, Yaz.”
“Do you want to use it to make us feel good?” Yaz purrs, getting closer to the Doctor’s body, kissing her on the cheek.
“You just read my mind, Yasmin Khan.”
There’s something magical, completely out of this world, when the Doctor calls Yaz by her full name, no matter the context. It’s way beyond words; it’s a connection between them that explains thousands of things by just using her name, a way to remark Yaz’s wittiness, perception and everything in between. A way to address her as the beautiful, brilliant being that she is.
Words seem useless once their mouths start to devour each other with devotion, savouring their lips with quietness and contemplation, melting into the touch of the alien’s slightly colder hands and the warmth of Yaz’s body. It’s a flame that grows slowly, steady, that engulfs both of them as they burn in unison. Their ragged breaths get together while they undress slowly, their hands fumbling with the buttons of each others’ trousers until they’re both tossed on the other side of the room, completely forgotten for a little while.
Yaz’s body towers over the Doctor, always smiling, always soft, always comforting, as she slowly drops down to her knees and slowly removes the Doctor’s boxers. The blonde’s breath hitches as her girlfriend’s eyes pierce hers with such hunger and need her hearts skip a few beats, her cock bouncing a little when it’s finally freed. Yaz reckons it’s not that big —because packing with the longer ones would be uncomfortable— but it’s still thick, slightly curved, and with the tip already weeping precum. She darts the tip of her tongue, giving the Doctor a little clue of what she’s about to do.
“You don’t have to do that, Yaz,” she whispers, her voice strangled with pure and unabashed need.
“I want to, Doctor,” she replies, mellow and soft as she softly grabs the shaft and gives it a light tug. The Doctor closes her eyes for a moment and bites her lip. “D’you want to watch?” She nods, unable to say a word. “Keep your eyes open, then.”
Yaz squeezes her thigh affectionately, as she smiles and kisses the tip slowly at first, letting it part her lips until it’s inside her mouth. The blonde closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, keeping her clenched fists on the sofa. Yaz keeps her gaze completely fixated on the Doctor, on the little expressions on her face, on the beautiful sounds she makes each time she takes her cock in her mouth a little deeper, until her nose touches her soft skin and brown curls. Yaz breathes deeply and she pulls out completely, leaving a trail of spit all over it, thin threads still connecting the tip and her lips beautifully, and the Doctor only watches, completely mesmerised, while Yaz repeats all of it, taking every centimetre of her until her mouth is completely full. Tentatively, Yaz grabs one of the Doctor’s hands and places it over her head, as an invitation to partake in what she’s doing. The blonde lets out a deep cry as she starts to thrust, fucking her mouth slowly and softly, while Yaz takes it, and takes it, and takes her.
The Doctor feels like she’s floating in zero gravity, nothing anchoring her back to her ship, or reality, even. Words feel useless now as she’s unable to describe what she’s feeling with Yaz sucking her tenderly, trying to reap as much noises and cries from the Doctor as she can. She looks way beyond beautiful on her knees with her t-shirt still on, and her braids a little undone, looking from time to time right into the Doctor’s eyes with devotion. The blonde has a hard time trying to keep her gaze fixated on her, on her movements, on how her parted lips and full mouth are devouring her.
The blonde suddenly asks for permission to slide inside her mind. Yaz allows it, and she hears in a faint, echoed voice, “Yaz… So good. You’re doing so good.” She replies with a content hum as she starts to pick up the pace. “Your mouth feels so warm and good on me. You’re so pretty, Yaz, so, so pretty.” Yaz takes her fully and stays still for a little while, letting the tip of her cock softly nudge the back of her throat. “Fuck.” It’s more like a grunt and less than a word, but it’s enough for Yaz to pick up the cue.
She feels wonderful, this surge of power making her brave enough to squeeze a little at the base as she fits the whole cock in her mouth again. The Doctor replies with a low animalistic grunt that makes Yaz shiver, and she repeats it a few more times, alternating that with the nudging at the back of her throat. The blonde melts on the couch, desperate to come already. And as if Yaz is reading her mind, she hands back to the Doctor the power she’s been exercising over her for the last few minutes. There is now a sure hand on Yaz’s head, instead of trembling fingers, that starts to push her up and down, in hollow and short thrusts, becoming more erratic with each swipe of her tongue on the underside or a little drag of her teeth on the tip.
“Yaz, Yaz, please,” she whines, her thrusts now completely erratic. “I’m really close,” she urges.
She pulls out for a brief second, enough to whisper, “Come in my mouth, then.”
“You sure?” Her voice is a little strangled, caught on her throat, and she feels everything is about to explode any second.
“Never been so sure.”
That’s the nail in her coffin, the last straw as she comes inside her mouth, keeping her head in place and thrusting inside, spilling herself with utter satisfaction, and Yaz stays there, on her knees, waiting until she’s completely sure the Doctor’s finished. Then she pulls out completely, leaving a trail of spit and cum on the tip as she swallows, licking her lips after, as if she just had the best meal of her whole life. Yaz looks at the Doctor with her pupils completely blown, and climbs over her body to kiss her, offering the Doctor a little taste of herself. She melts on the spot as Yaz kisses her slowly, tangling her tongue with the blonde’s, making her taste the tanginess and sweetness from her own cum right on her lips and mouth.
“Like what you taste, Doctor?” The brunette’s voice is so sultry, wrapping her in warmth and desire, that the Doctor has a hard time trying to find words that convey anything she’s feeling.
“Yeah,” she manages to speak, kissing Yaz again, drowning in her taste, in those little droplets of sheer delight the human has given to her. “Did you?” the Doctor asks when she’s satisfied again, looking right into those hungry eyes, and piercing her whole being.
“Loved it,” she says, sealing the Doctor’s mouth with her lips again, demanding every single atom of her body.
Every pore in their skin burns with what could only be described as a primal need, and yet, they take their time to kiss, to touch, to feel each other as if it’s their first time. The room becomes a wildfire, a sea of red, orange and yellow as everything surrounding them disappears. The edges of their consciousness blur as the heat rises, and rises, until they become flames, until everything is reduced to a dance of sparks and light, as the ashes of what was left soar over them, just to fall down afterwards and be engulfed again by their fire.
Yaz revels in the Doctor’s reactions and noises, in the curse words she says under her breath as the human softly bites on her neck. The Doctor enjoys every single caress the brunette gives her, cherises them like little treasures and lets her explore her body as if it’s the eighth wonder of the universe. The blonde’s hands descend slowly from Yaz’s belly to her underwear, and the brunette stops breathing for a second when she feels those calloused fingertips on her slit, slowly gathering her wetness and spreading it over her clit, making tight circles. Yaz tries to keep herself steady over the Doctor, holding herself onto her arms, biting her lower lip to keep herself quiet. She looks way beyond beautiful as her legs shake with effort, and she cries and pleads in such a sweet voice that it makes the Doctor get completely lost into her.
The lights of the room flicker around her body, illuminating every drop of sweat on her forehead, drawing thin lines on her curves and twisting her shadows until they merge with light again. It’s the fire inviting Yaz to join in, it’s a tempting hand that threatens to throw her into a molten core and she’s willing to take the risk. She’s already burning, lavish flames tangling her limbs and pushing her towards the core of a star, caressing her insides with such grace Yaz has no other option than falling.
And soon the Doctor follows suit. Her eyes are completely fixated on how her body moves and she drinks in every strangled breath, every shift in her pulse as she feels Yaz’s heat seeping into her being like burning gasoline, transforming her into an uncontrollable fire that fuels the one that’s devouring the human.
Neither the Doctor nor Yaz have ever been that delighted to feel such warmth on every atom of their beings.
The Doctor slides inside her mind once again —because it’s much easier than trying to formulate a coherent sentence with her voice— and she whispers, “Don’t hold back, Yasmin. I love to hear all those noises you make. They’re brilliant.”
Yaz moans, louder this time, and then she whispers, “They’re all for you.”
“Thinking of others, as always… So eager to be good and please everyone.”
“Just you, Doctor.”
“Do you just want to please me, Yaz?”
“Yeah… Fuck. Fuck.” Her voice is rough, low, and her pleads drip from her lips, hovering over the Doctor’s, just for her to drink.
“Give me more of those pretty noises,” the Doctor coos, making Yaz lower her head so her mouth is lined up with her ear. “Come on, Yaz, give them to me.”
Her reaction to such words is almost immediate, and she cries right in her ear, followed by a ragged breath that rips her ribcage in two. Yaz offers the Doctor exactly what she asked for, sweet and delicate moans followed by curse words, while blunt nails dig on her clothed skin, leaving imperfect marks the Doctor already cherishes.
The rhythm of the blonde's hand is far from ideal but it builds up Yaz’s orgasm beautifully. Not too fast, not too hard, changing the pace from time to time so she gets poised on the edge for an indefinite time, and that makes Yaz feel like she's free falling, tethering over the edge over and over again. A bodily fire shining in a pitch black space, a heavenly light that irradiates an energy that can’t be contained. And then, the invisible string that ties her to reality —to the Doctor— pulls her back, and she feels on every pore that exquisite touch from her slightly cold skin. Soft and bony fingers caressing her cheeks, and between Yaz’s legs, a hand that speeds up her movements to make her crumble and dissolve into space.
“So… So close,” she manages to say, pleading to the handsome figure under her.
“That’s it, just like that… Let go, Yaz, I got you.”
She’s so focused she can barely hear her own breath over the loud thumping of her heartbeat right in her ears, her blood pounding in and out and coursing through every vein of her being. She hears the gentle encouragement from the Doctor whispered right into her mind, like a distant memory, while her body focuses on the hand that’s drawing circles on her clit, quicker each time, holding her trembling limbs so she stays in place as she feels the world spinning around her, as her hot breath hits the Doctor’s ear, as she mutters all kinds of curse words mixed with the blonde alien’s name. And then, the world turns completely white, her voice gets strangled and she comes, pressing his forehead against the Doctor’s, her eyes closed as she rides it through, muttering how good she feels right now. The blonde smiles, kissing her again, enjoying Yaz’s pure bliss face as the brunette’s hands touch her everywhere, trying to make the Doctor lie on her back on the sofa.
“Y'know, it’s a little complicated to do that when you’re on top of me,” she whispers, biting Yaz’s earlobe, laughing so soft it feels like velvet on her skin.
“Sorry, but I really need to kiss you, and feel you,” Yaz says, half joking, pressing her lips against the Doctor’s before letting her change her position. “Matter of life or death, actually.”
“How so?” She raises an eyebrow and smirks, grabbing the brunette’s hips to pull her closer.
“Because I need you like I need oxygen.” Their eyes meet, intense as the light of a newborn sun, and Yaz speaks again, “I need you with me, in me.”
And her lips are over the Doctor’s again while she touches her everywhere. Her lithe body has freckles, little marks all over them, and Yaz has memorised every single one of them. She traces the outline of her breasts over the t-shirts and the Doctor shivers at the touch —Yaz loves how responsive she is, how her body talks to her— and then she squeezes them softly. Her nipples react immediately and they get hard, showing through her shirts, and the blonde moans, lifting her chest to chase Yaz’s touch. That makes Yaz laugh softly against her lips.
“You’re so eager, Doctor.”
“Oi! You make me!” She frowns again, playful, licking her lips at the sight of the brunette splaying her hands over her stomach as she straddles her. “Wanna keep on going? It’s alright if you d-”
“Of course I want it, big head,” Yaz interrupts her as she lifts her lips a little, and grabs the Doctor’s cock with her right hand, nudging the tip on her slit. “Do you, Doctor?” she asks syrupy sweet, her words melting through her body, coating her with the charm and gentleness she radiates.
The Doctor nods heartily and Yaz sinks into her, holding her breath until she feels completely full, the blonde wholly sheathed. She sighs at the feeling, and so does the Doctor, who invites her to start moving up and down with a firm slap on her ass.
“Do you plan to make me wait much longer?” The blonde raises an eyebrow, playful. “‘Cause it’d be nice, you know… to do that.” Her eyes point right between where their bodies meet and she sees Yaz practically quiet, not moving a muscle, as she grabs the blonde’s hips.
“Just a little tease, Doctor.” She lowers her head and traps her lower lip between hers.
“Is this some sort of revenge?”
“Not at all.” She smirks, winking an eye. “This is just to make sure you’re prepared.”
Yaz takes her time, being so slow at first it barely feels like fucking, but the firm grip on her shirt and hip, and the pure bliss on her face makes her speed up her movements until she’s properly riding the Doctor. It’s not too much, but enough to make her moan deeply with each thrust, met with equal eagerness from the blonde. She’s biting her lower lip, eyes completely closed and the knuckles on her right hand are almost white from her death grip on Yaz’s t-shirt.
“You feel amazing, Yaz, so good.” The Doctor slides into Yaz’s mind again; she’s far from words now, but she still wants to talk to her, to whisper everything she’s feeling. “It’s like you were made for me, for my eyes to admire, for my body to feel you.”
“Fuck, Doctor…” Yaz moans, lowering her posture, just enough to get a better hold of the sofa. She feels like she’s lost the upper hand the moment the Doctor decided to play telepathy on her again. She feels boneless, completely melting as she hears that sweet, delicate yet filthy praise she’s whispering.
“And I’m sure you were made to fit me.” She hears a low cry, and the brunette suddenly tenses her lower back, trying to show her partially clothed body to the Doctor. “So tight, perfectly tight, and hot…”
“Please…” Yaz manages to suck in a breath, trying to soothe the aching flare on the pit of her stomach.
“You’re brilliant, Yasmin, so perfect.” The blonde slaps Yaz’s ass again, softer this time. “You’re especially made for me, to fit me.” Their breaths are completely ragged, and the air feels so hot it’s barely breathable. And yet, it gives them fuel to keep on going. “You’re made to take me.”
“Doctor…” She struggles to speak, words faltering as she rides her harder and faster.
The Doctor knows exactly what she’s about to say, and her left hand moves to her clit to draw perfect, tight and quick circles, just as she likes it. Yaz is lost in her own thoughts, trying to contain the inferno that has nested on her chest, as her whole world blurs and dissolves into bright colours. There is not enough air around her, and yet, she doesn’t care. All that matters is right below her, looking at her with such adoration and devotion she can barely hold it into her body. The flames grow as vines and tie them both together, making them feel so impossibly close. There’s a familiar pull that alerts her body, the brief moment of calm before the storm. The rope that’s taut enough to snap at any moment, held by a familiar figure. The same bright smile that lies underneath her is about to let it go for good.
“I got you,” the Doctor whispers, and that’s all it takes to make Yaz come again, crying the blonde’s name out loud, riding the aftershocks until she finally stops, her body completely spent. She’s smiling, licking her lips and trying to catch her breath after two intense orgasms. Little drops of sweat decorate her forehead, and her eyes devour the Doctor’s face, still playful, still wanting more. “Still up for another one?” the blonde asks quietly, lowering Yaz’s head until her lips are just a few millimetres away from the human’s.
“Yeah.” She nods, slowly pulling away, whimpering at the loss of being full, and slouching over the Doctor.
“Lie on your side, then,” she replies, moving after giving Yaz a kiss on her hand. “Leave everything to me.”
It’s a little awkward to get positioned again —and Yaz laughs when she sees the Doctor frowning and sticking out the tip of her tongue as she tries to figure out where her legs and the brunette’s should be—; the brunette lies on her right side as the Doctor kneels in front of her, lifting her left leg as she guides her girth in front of the opening to her vagina. Once she’s done, the Doctor slides inside her with no resistance, grunting as she sheathes inside her girlfriend. Yaz cries out with that first thrust, feeling so full again, the tip of her cock nudging spots she only achieved by herself with another toy. She feels completely breathless, and the Doctor starts a quick, deep pace that makes her feel completely pliant under her hands, like clay.
Yaz tries to open her eyes but she’s overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure going all over her body. It isn’t too much, and isn’t uncomfortable, but the Doctor knows how to play her like a fiddle, how to bring out the most beautiful noises she didn’t know she could ever make. Each of the blonde’s cries sends a shiver all over her spine, and again Yaz finds herself falling down that spiral of sweet, slick pleasure the Doctor’s offering to her. She’s free-falling, lulled by the praise and words being whispered directly into her mind, by the pure bliss they’re both enjoying.
“Yaz… I wish you could look at yourself right now… Taking me so, so well, making us both feel so good.” The Doctor’s breath hitches and her thrusts become a little more erratic. “I’m close, so close.”
“Me too,” she whispers, her voice barely a thread.
“You’re so brilliant, Yaz… Touch yourself, please.” The Doctor asks so sweetly she immediately obliges, sliding her right hand until two of her fingers are over her clit, moving fast. She’s so wet she’s almost embarrassed, but she’s past that already. Too late to care about it. “So pretty, so beautiful, those sounds you’re making…” Yaz cries in response, and the Doctor hums pleased as she keeps on fucking her.
There’s fire all over Yaz’s body, lapping at her insides and consuming every cell in her body. She feels like a supernova, burning bright in the middle of space, just for the Doctor’s eyes to watch. Her body is tensed like the string on a bow, ready to shoot an arrow. And she falls, waiting for that arrow to pierce her body, to make her explode into billions of pieces, until the heat of the sun that is the Doctor can rebuild her again. And then, it happens, more quickly than she expects. Her body snaps and the fire spreads everywhere, exploding and drawing impossible patterns. She comes again, with a silent cry, as she frowns and arches her body, trying to get as much as she can from the Doctor.
She’s drowning in the high of her third orgasm, and she doesn’t realise that the blonde has pulled out and is cumming outside her, spilling herself on the quilt of the sofa, as she grabs the cushions and Yaz’s right arm, quietly thrusting into the bare air. Her head is lowered, almost bowing as she murmurs Yaz’s name, smiling as she tries to catch her breath.
“I guess I’ll just have to wash this, right?” the Doctor says innocently, making those puppy eyes Yaz adores. “Hope the Tardis won’t get mad at me if I spilled a little on the floor.” She laughs, gently and warmingly as she throws herself over the brunette.
“Why didn’t you come inside me?” She looks at the blonde with curious eyes.
“I… Uh, I didn’t ask for permission and… Well. Y’know this isn’t the real stuff but… Felt weird if I did not ask first, sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Yaz pulls the Doctor closer to kiss her again. “But you know, I don’t mind if it’s you.”
The Doctor smiles widely, kissing the tip of her nose, leaving a trail of caresses on her neck and over her clothes until she’s hovering above Yaz’s cunt again. She raises an eyebrow and lowers her head until her warm mouth is tasting the soft flesh of her girlfriend’s thigh.
“I'm worn out, Doctor,” Yaz says when she feels the warmth from her lips on her skin. “I can’t go for another one.”
“Me neither!” the Doctor replies, happily, before licking a few drops of cum from the upper side of Yaz’s leg, something that makes her shiver. “But this gave me an idea for another time.”