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What? They've acted in OTHER things?!
So, you may be aware that some cast members of HH have acted in other things. Give their profession, this is understandable.
This post is for those who would like to prompt/fic about the other things the guys/girls have been in, without mixing it up with HH-related/non-crossover fic on the other posts.
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UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)…It’s a measure of how used he’s become to her bonkers presence that he only blinks when she twists around to turn the TV off and turns back with a determined smirk upon her face.
“Chris…?” And even then his brain is slow to catch up, what with her sitting in his lap with her absurdly short skirt rising up to expose more and more of her rather unsettling thighs, “what are you doing?”
She only beams at him, “what does it look like I’m doing?”
He can only guess, in a slightly terrified manner, while trying to figure out where the heck to put his hands (not on her warm, smooth flesh would be a good start) “…Overthrowing the capitalist dogs that have kept us under their foot for so very long?”
Chris, predictably, considers this for a moment…
“It’d be interesting if you could overthrow them like this, I’ll have to look into it,” and then grins, and reaches for the bottom of her oversized shirt (huge shirts with Sci Fi logos on top, mini-skirts made for indecent exposure down bottom – that’s always been Chris), “but right now I have far funner things in mind…”
He, in turn, considers this-
Okay, alright, he’s lying. And grabbing Chris’ wrists instead, and very firmly stopping her from lifting that shirt another inch (to display that pale, skinny, remarkably attractive- that did not just come out of his brain), “why?”
She pouts - she has the most amazing pout, he has actually seen it stop pigeons dead in their tracks (in front of cars, Chris has never used her powers for good), “because fun is fun.”
He considers-
He may be starting to develop a problem with lying, he admits it – he refuses to seek help, “nope.”
“Ah,” she gnaws on her lip, her remarkably lovely- okay, he did also not think that. She has nice lips, granted, fine lips as far as lips go – but he does not want to slide his tongue between them and- “…You have been leading me on all these years and it’s time for you to step up and be a man or stop jerking around my fragile heart?”
He-
…Okay, he might go see a counsellor in the morning, or tonight, or the moment that he runs screaming from the room and never looks back, “no.”
“Really? I thought that was rather good.”
“’Fraid not.”
“Ah,” she glances down at her still trapped hands, he politely releases them - just so she can reach out and tap them against his shoulders “…Are you absolutely sure? Because I could go into a whole spiel about how we’ve been working together for seven years-“
“Five years.”
“-Seven years this October, and how I’m actually your only friend and how we’ve basically been dating ever since your wife left you and how you trust me enough to let me hold a kitchen knife to your throat,” she taps for another moment, sucks her bottom lip (he is not staring, he is not fascinated at all) still deeper into her mouth “…Can we try bladeplay, by the way?”
UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)“…No.”
“Right.”
“But now that I think about it I am making remarkably good points,” she continues ever so brightly, shifting in his lap (ah, that’s a bit uncomfortable now that he notices it) “…Mainly I’m just bored, though.”
“Oh.”
“And you’re the nearest thing to a male around.”
“Thank you.”
“…And you’re also very attractive?”
He…
Actually considers that for a second, because it has to be better than turfing her off his lap (still uncomfortable, thank you for remembering) and going to slam his head against the wall, “so… Your main reason for us to shag on my sofa in the middle of the day is that you’re bored and as a good friend I should entertain you?”
“Basically!”
“Ah.”
“But you did interrupt my train of thought,” she nods brightly, completely ignoring the fact that she does that herself more often than not (a lot more often than not), “and I did have other points.”
“…Go on?”
“You haven’t had a shag since your wife left you” …He kind of wishes that she wasn’t going on now, but short of kissing her to silence (he will not do that) he’s not quite sure how to fix it, “since about a year before that, actually, which is roughly two or more years of complete celibacy.”
He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Which is downright unhealthy for a man in his late thirties looking to live a full and active life-“
“Alright, I get your point,” he grumbles, raises his head and opens his eyes with as much anger as he can muster (not that opening your eyes is a very angry movement, compared to snapping your head or raising your hand it’s practically pathetic) “…You are actually playing on my fear of loneliness and being a hopeless freak to get in a casual shag on a Saturday afternoon.”
“…Well.”
His voice is very flat, it must be very flat – possibly as flat as a desert that’d been pounded with a giant hammer many times (…Pounding is also a legitimate word as well as a sexual innuendo, he will not feel the slightest bit tempted), “you want more than a casual shag on a Saturday afternoon.”
She looks innocent, as innocent as only pure and utter evil can look, “we could see how things progressed?”
“What would Marcus think?”
“Please stop talking about Marcus when I’m perched on top of you with full intention of getting naked and having a passionate shag right here,” and, with that… Christ, he forgot to grab onto her hands again! She’s already reaching down and grabbing the bottom of her shirt and pulling up- “there!”
UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)She has, he notes absently, rather nice breasts-
A rather nice bra! A rather nice bra and he’s already snapping his gaze up, already flailing again because he now has absolutely nowhere to place his hands that isn’t soft and warm and remarkably bare, “Chris!”
…Is already smirking in her smuggest way, much is his luck, “I saw you looking.”
“I was not looking.”
“You were looking.”
“I was admiring the workmanship” …Oh God, no wonder his wife left him, his son hates him and everybody he happens to meet immediately considers him a bumbling fool. He half wants to lean forwards and bury his head firmly in-
No!
“My parents did make me well, I must admit,” Chris purrs as he continues to reel in horror, still wearing her very smuggest tone (and little else, which is not helping), “would you like to see how well?”
“…That is the least sexy chat-up line ever.”
“It’s worked before.”
“And furthermore,” he continues, very firmly ignoring that for Chris’ dating life is the kind of story that can only lead to horrified nightmares and loud protestations of ‘but why did she date the guy who could juggle beavers?’, “What would your parents think?”
“They’d probably be pleased that you didn’t make me dress up as various animals.”
“What would Judith think?”
“At least it’d prove that you weren’t skulking around her house sniffing desperately at her left behind underwear.”
“…What would Marcus think?”
“Who cares about what Marcus thinks?” And Chris, taking slight advantage of his still rather addled state of mind, leans forwards – lowers her eyelashes and attempts to look as seductive as she possibly can, “just kiss me, big boy.”
…And he supposes that it says a lot for his levels of panic that he instinctively obeys that instruction.
UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [4/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)“I’m on a very short fuse,” he grumbles, and knows the moment that it tumbles out of his mouth that it’s probably the worst defence to ever be concocted by man, woman or even dinosaur. He braces himself for more mocking-
But Chris only grins, leans forward for another little peck that is much sweeter now that he’s not busy compacting into himself in a mixture of horror and pure embarrassment, “I hardly mind.”
“I mind a bit…”
“Tim” …She’s pouting at him again, doing her pigeon-murdering pout with much skill and very little guilt, “it could hardly hurt, could it?”
…That is not the way to think. He snaps his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to stare into her brown ones or at her somehow attractive face or even down at her still fairly nice breasts, “it could hurt a bit.”
“How?”
“It-“ …Drat, he should probably have more than this even if he is sitting in his living room with a half naked Chris in his steadily hardening lap.
“How?”
“…It could mess up our wonderful friendship?”
“Tim,” his eyes automatically pop open at his name, it’s a mistake because he’s immediately looking into her big, brown ones and finding himself utterly unable to pull himself away, “if you’ve withstood me driving away all of your customers, insulting your son, mocking your ex-wife, stealing your food and almost breaking your arm that one time-“
“…I’m still a bit bitter about that, actually.”
“-Then you can withstand this,” she finishes, ignoring him – and leaning in for another cheeky peck just to add insult to injury, “and should withstand this before I start singing Flashdance at you.”
“The line isn’t actually ‘take your pants off, and make it happen’, you know-“
“Then maybe she should’ve sung it differently,” she sniffs, tossing her hair back to expose her admittedly rather tempting neck, “come on, Tim.”
And-
…Well.
Um.
He is rather too repressed, and sane, for such things, but…
Screw it.
UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [5/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)…And their noses bump.
But she doesn’t seem to care, as she wraps her arms fully around his neck and purrs into the kiss with all her hot flesh flush against him.
And things, thankfully, move rather quickly from there.
Her bra is a little bit tricky, for bras have always been tricky, but eventually he just about manages to undo it and tugs it roughly down her shoulders. He’s seen most of Chris’ breasts before, of course (the risks of being best friends, and now apparently shagging, a terminal exhibitionist), but he’s blocked out her nipples and so takes a moment to reacquaint himself – sucking them into his mouth and lapping his tongue over the steadily firming flesh.
Chris, to his surprise, does manage at least one whine above him.
…But then that is choked off by a rough grunt and a swear word and the sink of teeth into that sensitive place just under his jaw. And he supposes that he’ll have to set aside the surprise in favour of a whimper of his own and a swift buck of his hips.
Her skirt is soon removed by careful shuffling and remarkably sensible usage of her knees, her underwear soon follows and lands on the pile now messily upon the floor.
…Naked and reasonably lovely in his lap, he just has to mouth at her breast for another moment as his hands spread supportively across her naked ribs.
But soon she is shoving him back, and that really shouldn’t excite him in the slightest bit (oh God, he would choose this moment to become kinky), and diving in between them for his belt and then his zip in quick order, and slowly starting to shove his jeans down his legs…
“Wait,” she huffs, just as she’s gotten them down far enough for actual things to become feasible.
“What?” He pants, achingly hard and able to hold himself back only by the skin of his teeth and the internalized control that he’s had within him ever since the day he made the mysterious decision to marry Judith and impregnate her a few years later.
Speaking of impregnating… “Condoms.”
He blinks up at her. Filled for one long, stunned moment with the image of the terrifying child that he and Chris would produce together: with the brains of Marcus, the helpless anger of Chris, the desires of a dalek and… His build, he supposes, for the kid will probably be forced to accept something of his.
“Tim,” Chris says impatiently above him, snapping him from nightmares of the antichrist, “condoms.”
“…In the kitchen.”
She rises from his lap strongly, quickly-! …Slumps back down at a fair speed, frowning at him instead of actually doing anything that could be counted as mildly useful, “you keep your condoms in the kitchen?”
It is such a Chris-like sort of question that he just has to stare at her for a moment, narrowly resisting the urge to just lift his hand and slam it hard against his skull, “celibate for over two years.”
“Fair point,” she’s still not moving, even if it is a fair point – and he’s very much doubting the fairness of it as a point, “Will they still work?”
…Very, very much, “I buy new condoms every month, alright?”
“You buy new condoms every month despite not having had a shag in over two years?”
…Very, very, very much, “Chris.”
And she shrugs (for that makes it better)-
…And finally clambers off his knees, heading nakedly towards the kitchen (and he looks at her for several long moments, he must admit, because it’s hard not to when a woman such as Chris is naked and walking around right in front of you) at a sped that almost makes up for all the mocking that she’ll put him through later.
As does the speed of her return.
And the speed of her delicate settle upon his lap.
And the speed of her: as she rolls the condom on with practiced fingers, positions her hips in exactly the right way and sinks onto him. A long, hot, tight thrust that leaves him gasping at the sensation and her laughing breathlessly at his face.
UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [6/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)“…Are you ever going to-?”
“Two years, Chris.”
“You better come quickly, then…”
-And then move. All at once, a blur of sensation and pure heat that has his hands fisting at her waist and her head tilting forward in a hot laugh and the both of them grunting, grunting so very hard because they can’t hold it back and don’t want to hold it back and fuck that feels good.
Their thrusts speed up, him pushing quickly up into her as she slams swiftly down onto him.
Their thrusts grow jerky, as he buries her face against her shoulder and she rests her sharp chin against his head.
Their thrusts-
And she wasn’t wrong, he will say that.
-Their thrusts pause, as he jerks his hips up in one long, hot movement and finds himself coming ever so hard into her. Closing his eyes and growling and maybe even mouthing her name into her shoulder as he shudders through the last bits of his incredibly swift orgasm.
…He’s still a nice guy, though.
And so keeps thrusting until she finishes: digging her nails in and dramatically tilting her head back and giving a surprising scream that contains no words at all (but does rather make his ears hurt, he’s afraid).
They pause for a moment.
She slowly arches up on her knees again, allows his now soft cock to slip out before thumping down upon his lap.
They pant together for another moment, both sweaty and with his head still buried in her shoulder.
…The front door clicks open, a loud and intrusive sound that lets in an even more loud and intrusive woman, “Tim? Where are you, you helpless waste of space?”
Well-
…Ah. As he draws back to stare at the still entirely naked Chris with incredibly wide eyes.
Re: UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [6/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-22 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)Re: UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [6/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-23 02:02 pm (UTC)(link)Re: UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [6/6] [Spy]
I love how you got the banter between them, it flowed wonderfully :DDDDDDDD
Re: UNPROMPTED: One Saturday Afternoon, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [6/6] [Spy]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-23 02:03 pm (UTC)(link)