milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Ace wanders back inside, looking rather sober for this hour of the morning, and trailing a thick blanket. The blanket she gives back to Bar, in return for a large mug of cocoa, and retreats to the warmth of the fireside. Mmmmm, cocoa.
Feel free to bug the Ace. She needs bugging.

(ooc: No minors please. R-rated (or increasingly getting there). Boyfriend shows up. You do the math.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

*and Tim has pounced on her.*

Ha! have at thee!

Aces do not go quietly into that good night! She fights back, trying to roll them so she's on top. Tatical advantage, doncha know.

*Tim lets her get on top.*

Oh! you are too powerful for me!

She beams.
"You better believe it, boyo." And then she leans down and kisses him, muck and all.

*Wham, bam, flip, Tim is now straddling her and kissing her.*

I win!

Ace laughs, quietly.
"You think so, huh?" She reaches up, grabs the front of his shirt, and pulls him back down so she can kiss him again.

*Tim smiles down at her.*

Yup. I got you, don't i?

"Smoothtalker." But Ace knows better. She got him, which is a better prize by far.

*Tim nuzzles her loveingly.*

Warm enough?

"Toasty..." She cranes her neck a bit to snag his earlobe in her teeth, nibbling just a bit.

*Tim tugs at her jacket, pulling it open.*

Too warm maybe?

"Around you? Always." She's tugging at his shirt.

*and Tim is letting her, not giving a shit about the mud. He does take a moment to throw up a "Don't notice us" spell, but then he's tearing at her clothes, near ripping them from her as he kisses the available skin.*

Just as well, because Tim's shirt is defintely ripped before it comes off. Well, it's not like she has any magic, and she's not about to ask him to stop for a minute. It gets lost, somewhere, her hands sliding up his chest to rub firmly at those facinating nipples she found last time.

*Fuck magic, Tim is tearing at her clothes, kissing her his hands wherever he can place them. He loves her, and loves it when she touches him like that, and when shes with him...*

But she can't keep her hands still long (too warm? damn hot, actually) and they move to rake nails down his back as she tangles her tongue with his, needing to be closer.

*And her pants are gone and his too actually, he needs to be close to her, he needs her so badly right now, and the nails just increase that need, fuck the mud, fuck the weather....fuck her....He wants to, he's pressing against her, but the rational part of his mind is holding back, givng her the option, her choice...*

She can feel him, against her, and all she can think is how she wants him inside, and now, but theres a question, she knows theres a question, what the heck was it...
"Umm..." She slaps her brain into something resembling functioning order, though it is hard when he's holding her like that and...
"Birth control?"" Oh yeah, that was the question.

*And Tim, his brain barely functioning, replies in a way his mun wishes he could, cuz, yeh, magic makes everything better.*

M'sterile till i magic muhself un

*He's quivering, barely holding back. If she asks another question, he may go insane.*

"Yes Tim. Please." She's begging, and she doesn't care, because she needs this, needs him.

*And tim lets it go, thrusting it as deep as he can reach, pushing himself inside her. And god, it is like heaven, and it is like dying, and it is like nothing he has ever felt before.... and it is love.*

And there is pain, a brief flash that tightens her eyes into a wince and starts reflexive tears, but then there's just him, above her, around her, inside her, and she runs her nails down his back again, urging him on, pulling him deeper.

*And they are one and it is good, and there is nothing but him and nothign bu her, nothing but them, together, covered in mud, hsi hands roaming wherever they can, his mouth doing the same, and he cannot understand this passion, this love that embraces him, but it is GOOD*

She's lost and found in him, and as she rocks her hips to meet him and tilt just like that and
"Tim..." It's a shout, a plea, a declaration and she needs him, needs more of him, her hands caressing teasing worshiping every inch of skin she can reach, her head thrown back, mindless of the mud.

Dorothy.

*And his back is arching into her, one last slam dead home and he can't hold on anymore, too much too tight, too love.....*