![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
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.
General Rules
- Personal attacks and any kind of trolling, hate speech, or bullying are obviously forbidden. Anon comments violating this rule will be deleted, signed in members will be banned.
- If your comment is deleted/screened/frozen and you don't know why, please email the mod at hhanonmeme@gmail.com
- Prompt posts will close to new prompts at 3,000 comments.
Prompting Rules
- One prompt per comment.
- Please follow the correct format (see below).
- Include trigger warnings in the subject line. Use your discretion and please be considerate.
- If your prompt is missing something, such as a subject or a warning, repost it in it’s entirety. It is not enough to reply to your own comment with the missing information. The mods will delete the previous duplicate comment.
- Multiple fills of the same prompt by different authoranons are allowed.
- If for any reason you start a fill but feel you can't finish the WIP you've created, and if you're happy to let someone finish it for you, put it up for HH Meme Fostering and Adoption.
Format of Prompts
- Put [RPF] before RPF prompts.
- For crossover prompts: "[Crossover], HH Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]"
- Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other."
- Put [GEN] before GEN prompts.
- Use appropriate warnings.
- Don't embed any photos, videos or other media.
- Copy and paste links in full; anon comments with active coded links are marked as spam and the mod doesn't switch accounts often enough - it may be a few days before those screened comments are de-screened.
- To make the archiving job easier, please drop a link to your fill/unprompted fic here at the fills post.
- Nothing here you fancy filling? Take a look at the unfilled prompts archived here or at Round 1.
UNPROMPTED: Drunk on Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1/3]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-27 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)...And, yes, I am going to name all the days of the week as skilfully as Rebecca Black (and possibly twice. <<)]
--
There’s a certain feeling that you get when you’re somewhere between entirely drunk and fully sober. A certain seething, bubbling feeling that makes you think you can do absolutely anything and be absolutely anyone: that you can dance all night without a single moment of pain, that you can actually have conversations without looking like an absolute fool, that you can get the perfect girl (or boy) without a single screeching dissenter stepping forwards to spoil the mood.
He watches Chris, a little less drunk and as bouncy as ever, through slightly hooded eyes. Watches the way she moves on the end of her couch, watches those long arms flying as she discusses the horrors of society at a speed that would quite terrify the uninitiated.
The perfect girl…
He leans forwards, bolstered by the warmth of two beers or more, grabs her pale and bony wrist and drags her towards him before she can do more than blink. Captures her mouth in a deep, hard, filthy kiss that makes her grip at the front of his shirt and whimper vaguely into his mouth.
When he draws back she is breathless, briefly able only to continue clinging to the front of his shirt and splutter uselessly for words.
“…Um,” she says eventually, still blinking like she’s not quite sure what just happened, “um, Tim-?”
He draws her in again, wrapping his arms around her waist this time and tugging her so close that he can feel the press of her breasts even through his shirt. She actually whines when he tilts his head and delves fully into her mouth, actually whimpers and clenches her hands and holds on like she’s never been so surprised in her life.
And, granted, he’s not usually like this.
But he figures, with three beers or more happily sloshing around inside him, that they can deal with a brief change in the routine. When they draw back the next time, for air and only air, he reaches down until his fingers are firmly hooked around the underside of her bare thighs – stands up and, with one firm hitch, lifts her with him. Heading for the stairs (and he has no idea how she got enough money to buy a house of her own, but he’s hardly going to argue) with her skin warm beneath his fingers and her breath happily surprised against his ear.
She briefly leans over him when they get to the door, scrabbles quickly at the side table and comes up with something small clutched in her hand.
…He figures that he can worry about it later.
UNPROMPTED: Drunk on Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2/3]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-27 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)“…Tim-?”
He leans down again, before she has to go through another moment of doubt, captures her lips in yet another deep kiss that has her slumping back on her step and hissing air desperately through her nose, so hard that she sounds vaguely like some bull. He chooses not to comment on that, though, chooses not to spoil the moment – only ducks his head, kisses along her jawline, kisses lower.
Her shirt is higher tonight, blue and with a picture of the TARDIS on front, but is still easy to get rid of – to toss over the banister without another thought. He allows her the briefest moment to blink at that, the very briefest moment, and then quickly removes her bra too, ripping it slightly but leaning down to capture her nipple so fast that she can’t even summon the beginnings of a complaint (not that she would anyway, he knows Chris by now).
“Tim,” she gasps, hot and wild as her hands fist in his hair and his mouth switches to her other eagerly presented nipple, “TimTimTim, Tim…”
He’s never heard her so out of control.
He finds himself rather pleased by it, as he ducks his head from her breasts and continues down her body – trailing teeth over her stomach and feeling her helplessly arch beneath him and tasting her sweat as he goes ever lower over always-pale skin.
By the time he reaches her black mini-skirt he finds that he’s lost his shirt somewhere.
By the time he removes that black mini-skirt, sliding it swiftly down her long legs as she helpfully wriggles, he discovers that he doesn’t care - with her spread out and helplessly panting his name on every breath and absolutely naked before him in a way so shameless that he half wonders, bolstered by four beers and that’s probably it, how he ever lived without her.
“I never wear knickers when we’re watching things together,” she provides breathlessly after a few moments of staring, briefly propping herself up on her elbows to look down at him, “I thought, after the first time-“
“Mm,” he says, absently, and leans in again – licking past that familiar thatch of dark curls until he finds heat and wetness and that place where a certain twist of his tongue will have her screeching out his name without a single bit of shame.
He does it.
Hears her screech.
Does it again.
Hears her screech even louder, helpless noises bubbling from her lips as she half sobs his name, “Tim. Tim. TimTimTimTim…”
He smiles, can’t quite help smiling even if it means a sudden halt and a brief pause with her hot skin tempting him and her hand clenched ever so hard in his hair
“…Tim.”
UNPROMPTED: Drunk on Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-27 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)And then slides up at her command, for it can be mistaken for nothing else and never call him anything but obedient, bracing his arms either side of her head and smiling all the harder as one of those skilled hands immediately leaps to his belt.
“Do you want me to get-?” He just remembers to ask, as his jeans slowly start sliding down…
Is immediately answered by a swift raise of her other hand, a brief glimpse of that small object (a condom) snatched from the table and her very brightest smile – done in between desperately heaving breaths, granted, but all the sweeter for it.
She attempts to start a conversation, attempts to briefly comment as he finally kicks his underwear off, but he swiftly swallows any words that come out of her mouth – bearing her back against the stairs as she slides the condom over him. It is a seemingly impossible position, one that should have them both sliding down and breaking their necks at any moment, but somehow they manage to hold it – her arms raised above her head to scrabble fruitlessly for purchase at the steps above, his hands braced besides her and digging into her hip.
The moment he slides into her she starts panting helplessly again, vaguely managing to mutter into his shoulder as he pauses for one long second. The moment he starts to thrust she starts screeching again, one hand shooting from the steps above her head to claw harshly at his back.
And the moment he starts pounding into her…
He can honestly say that he’s never heard anybody screaming his name before, has never even dreamed that anybody could scream his name before. But Chris is digging in her nails so hard that he half expects the skin to break and screaming and tilting her head back against the carpet with a dry sob and screaming and arching into him so desperately that he can hardly believe it and screaming and…
Well.
When she comes she comes with an odd noise somewhere between a hiccup and a sob, something that shouldn’t be sexy but that has him closing his eyes and whimpering anyway. She slumps back lax and boneless beneath him, her mouth open and her body panting so hard that he can feel her chest with every single rise and fall.
It is a good thing, a very good thing, that he comes quickly at that sight of her beneath him. Is soon scratching into the stair he’s braced against and tightening his hand on her hip and screaming out (for he’s not that cool, no matter how hard he tries) his own release as she slowly, lazily opens her eyes.
They stare at each other for a second, both almost brainless and faintly worn out.
And he knows that another go probably wouldn’t be a good idea, he knows that even if he feels invincible now the feeling won’t continue over to next morning, he knows that tomorrow is Monday and he’ll be a staggering mess when he eventually stumbles into work…
He still slowly pushes to his feet, again, leans down and picks her up, again, and resumes carrying her towards the bedroom without a single word exchanged upon the matter.
Sense is for people not consumed by such a feeling, after all.
Re: UNPROMPTED: Drunk on Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3/3]
*Melts into a puddle*
Re: UNPROMPTED: Drunk on Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-28 03:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: UNPROMPTED: Drunk on Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2011-10-29 11:41 am (UTC)(link)Re: UNPROMPTED: Drunk on Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2011-11-03 04:52 pm (UTC)(link)