(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

*Nymphadora's in the kitchen making a cheese toastie. (This much, at least, she can manage on her own.) The Beatles are playing in the living room, and she bops around the kitchen, singing along as she assembles her snack.*

Comments

[clumsy_auror]

*Her lips are still locked on his as she starts unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling, desperate to come in contact with his skin.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Bernard can't help but laugh into Nymphadora's mouth as she loses what little patience she has and yanks the shirt open roughly, one button hitting the window with a sharp clack.*

[clumsy_auror]

*She breaks away, looking sheepishly over at the window and blushing.*

...Ooops?

*Then she shrugs, grinning, and ducks her head, flicking her tongue over his nipple.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*And the laugh turns into a soft moan as their hips grind together again, Bernard's eyes rolling back briefly.*

[clumsy_auror]

*Nymphadora mouths her way up to find his lips again, pushing her tongue against his.

Her hand skims down his stomach and brushes briefly against the front of his trousers; then she squeezes, ever so slightly.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*...But not nearly enough, Bernard thinks, a broken sound escaping his lips. His hand's back at the small of her back, forcing her to arch up straight, and when she does, he takes one nipple into his mouth, a thumb on the other.*

[clumsy_auror]

Oh, f--Bernard...

*Her head lolls to one side, eyes drifting closed, and she bites her lip.*

Why don't I -- ahhh -- why don't I wear skirts more?

*She starts blindly working at his belt buckle.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*His lips are at her neck, working their way up slowly as his hand works its way down.*

I don't know-- oh my God --but it's a fucking tragedy.

[clumsy_auror]

Yes it is. Throwing out all my trousers tomorrow.

*She succeeds in unbuckling his belt, and goes to work on his trousers; her progress is slowed, however, by the... thing Bernard is currently doing with his tongue. Nymphadora lets out a groan.*

You're very distracting, did you know?

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*He pauses completely, mouth still against her neck.*

Oh, I'm sorry. Did you need to do something?

[clumsy_auror]

*She sucks in a breath.*

No! No, your trousers can wait. Carry on.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*An eyebrow goes up, and his thumb gently grazes the spot on her back, not hard enough at all.*

No, I don't think they can.

[clumsy_auror]

*The flush on her cheeks deepens, and her eyebrow mirrors his. She snickers.*

Is this going to end up being a Mexican standoff?

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*His voice cracks a little*

Well.

Um.

*Their hips press together.*

No one's getting shot or anything. Yet.

[clumsy_auror]

*She opens her mouth to respond, and then smacks herself on the forehead.*

Bloody hell, what kind of a witch am I?

*Nymphadora fishes her wand out of her back pocket and flicks it at Bernard.*

Divestium Bernard.

*A second later, the remainder of his clothes are piled messily on the armchair. She frowns.*

Bollocks. Can never get them to fold properly.

*She flicks her wand again, and the clothes twitch, to no avail. Thwacking her wand against her palm a few times, she tries again, paying no attention whatsoever to the now very-naked man between her thighs.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Bernard watches her in full disbelief for about thirty seconds as she flicks her wand. Then, fed up, he grabs the wand out of her hands, tosses it to the other end of the couch, grabs her chin in one hand, and her hand in the other, and forces her to look at him as he puts her hand exactly where he wants it.*

[clumsy_auror]

Bernard, wha-- oh.

*She grins and reddens.*

Sorry.

*Still snickering, she leans forward to kiss him again, tongue flicking over his lips, and clenches her hand a little bit harder, this time.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Bernard moans into her mouth, hands busy at her waist. When she squeezes again, he fumbles.*

That's it. I'm burning every pair of trousers you own.

[clumsy_auror]

Well.

*She smirks just a tiny bit.*

If somebody hadn't pitched my wand out of reach...

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*The zip is down, and he pauses deliberately.*

Oh, fuck off, my love. Desperate measures.

[clumsy_auror]

*She laughs harder, apparently not bothered in the least by his pausing.*

You fuck off! Tsk, tsk, always in such a rush.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Bernard's expression actually looks like this: >:O*





...It takes two to rush. If I had a nickel for every time I've heard "Now, Bernard, now, now now!"

[clumsy_auror]

Oh!

*She feigns surprise*

So you'd rather go slower? That's fine, I'll finish my sandwhich while you work up to it, then.

*Nymphadora bites back her grin and reaches for her plate.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Suddenly, her hands are being held behind her back.

Wonder how that happened.

Bernard looks up at her mock-serenely, eyes glittering with temper and barely-restrained lust.*

[clumsy_auror]

*Nymphadora's caught off guard, and her jaw slackens. She looks down at him, wide-eyed, the need and want in her expression suddenly laid bare.*