But it’s not, if he’ll forgive her (he usually does) her ‘impudence’, exactly what she had in mind when she considered the celebrations after a grand realization of love. And while she’s usually fine with settling for less than exactly, she has to in this mess that they call a world, she does have the right to be an obnoxiously demanding twat at times such as these.
And so she draws back, swiftly with him muttering her name in a wonderfully puzzled manner, and beams at him briefly. Shuffling up to his chest before he can do more than vaguely flail at her sides and splutter about nothing in particular.
“Chris-“ he finally manages again, when she’s balanced just below his nipples and reaching for the condoms that they keep by the bed (her idea, for she has the best ideas and people really should listen to them an awful lot more before society tumbles down and the giant cockroaches take over) “…Have you drawn on my chest?”
“You’ll forgive me for it,” she hums in an entirely unconcerned manner, flipping one packet into her palm and swiftly shuffling down again.
“I do have to go to work tomorrow, what if they ask me-?”
“Tell them that you’re dating me,” she smiles blithely, sliding the condom over his cock as he instinctively (and this is, perhaps, why she actually loves him) braces her back and then her hips and then her thighs as she leans over him for a wonderfully sweet, loving, not at all a bit scary kiss, “and that I’ve given you bites in worse places.”
“You’ve given me bruises in worse places,” he hisses, so handsomely (as handsome as a hiss can be, not very since he sometimes looks like a stepped on gerbil at these moments, but it’ll do) as she slides onto him, pauses for only a moment as she gets settled and firmly braces herself on his chest “…Are we dating, then?”
…She should feel insulted, really.
She doesn’t, only braces herself harder and arches a rather firm eyebrow down, “you didn’t know that we were dating?”
“Well…” he hisses, again like a stepped on gerbil, as she starts to sway. Awkwardly brings his knees up to brace her back, and she decides on the spot (cock) that that’s yet another reason for hopelessly passionate love if she’s ever seen one, “I assumed, I must admit.”
“Good,” she hums, clenching her muscles in that particular way that makes Tim turn into a groaning teenager beneath her.
“I just assumed that you might not want to give it such a definition” …She pauses, stares down at him with wide eyes as he awkwardly continues to brace, “I mean – I want to, of course. But if you feel no desire to place a label on it then-“
…She loves him.
She honestly does love him.
And silences him with a quick and rapid lean down, a deep and loving kiss before he can say another word that’ll pluck the heart from her chest and make it all his in the most embarrassing of ways, “I’ve always liked those sort of labels, Timmy boy.”
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timeasmymeasure
UNPROMPTED: On a Tuesday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2/3]
Date: 2011-10-29 12:45 am (UTC)And so she draws back, swiftly with him muttering her name in a wonderfully puzzled manner, and beams at him briefly. Shuffling up to his chest before he can do more than vaguely flail at her sides and splutter about nothing in particular.
“Chris-“ he finally manages again, when she’s balanced just below his nipples and reaching for the condoms that they keep by the bed (her idea, for she has the best ideas and people really should listen to them an awful lot more before society tumbles down and the giant cockroaches take over) “…Have you drawn on my chest?”
“You’ll forgive me for it,” she hums in an entirely unconcerned manner, flipping one packet into her palm and swiftly shuffling down again.
“I do have to go to work tomorrow, what if they ask me-?”
“Tell them that you’re dating me,” she smiles blithely, sliding the condom over his cock as he instinctively (and this is, perhaps, why she actually loves him) braces her back and then her hips and then her thighs as she leans over him for a wonderfully sweet, loving, not at all a bit scary kiss, “and that I’ve given you bites in worse places.”
“You’ve given me bruises in worse places,” he hisses, so handsomely (as handsome as a hiss can be, not very since he sometimes looks like a stepped on gerbil at these moments, but it’ll do) as she slides onto him, pauses for only a moment as she gets settled and firmly braces herself on his chest “…Are we dating, then?”
…She should feel insulted, really.
She doesn’t, only braces herself harder and arches a rather firm eyebrow down, “you didn’t know that we were dating?”
“Well…” he hisses, again like a stepped on gerbil, as she starts to sway. Awkwardly brings his knees up to brace her back, and she decides on the spot (cock) that that’s yet another reason for hopelessly passionate love if she’s ever seen one, “I assumed, I must admit.”
“Good,” she hums, clenching her muscles in that particular way that makes Tim turn into a groaning teenager beneath her.
“I just assumed that you might not want to give it such a definition” …She pauses, stares down at him with wide eyes as he awkwardly continues to brace, “I mean – I want to, of course. But if you feel no desire to place a label on it then-“
…She loves him.
She honestly does love him.
And silences him with a quick and rapid lean down, a deep and loving kiss before he can say another word that’ll pluck the heart from her chest and make it all his in the most embarrassing of ways, “I’ve always liked those sort of labels, Timmy boy.”
“…You have?”
“Hush.”