HP: Half-Drawn Curtains [013 - Yellow]
Title: Half-Drawn Curtains
Author: runespoor7
Prompt: 013 - Yellow
Characters/Pairings: Andromeda, Ted (Andromeda/Ted)
Rating: R
Words: 950
Summary: Sleeping in. Post-coitum bliss. Or something like it.
Just lying on the bed, sheets rumpled and ruffled, staring at the ceiling, and listening to their mingling breaths. Sunlight clear and gold on naked skin, limbs mellow, and the taste of completion in their mouths. Without any idea or care about time or date, just - letting it flow, surrounding them, forgotten. Alone.
"God, I have no idea what time it is," he mutters.
Ted's slumped a little lower than she is; she arches an eyebrow in answer, still staring upwards, knowing he won't be able to see it.
"Does it matter?" she asks, amused by his remark. Post-coitum bliss. This is what Heaven must be made of.
She can feel his weight shift, and his head coming up until hazel eyes are looking into hers. Her gaze slips to his mouth, curled into a smile that she knows all too well, so strange, that she doesn't know if it annoys her or not.
"Well, not that I'm complaining, but surely your parents will have something to say about it."
She's mirroring his smile now, teasing and flirtatious. Just because they've burst out of the seducing phase of the relationship doesn't mean they have to stop having fun.
"My parents are all the way down the stairs, and we are alone in my locked, sound-secure room."
Andromeda rolls until she's on top of Ted, skin against skin, legs intertwined, and she's staring at him as if he's the prettiest boy she's ever done. Which is the case.
Slowly, she bends, softly bringing her lips to his, covering his smile. Warm and wet and golden like honey, in the shared obscurity of their joined mouths, between her legs, and all over her skin, pleasurable dampness stroked by the rays of the sun, lazily entering her room from between her half-drawn curtains. They take their time tasting each other.
His hands caress her steadily, shoulders, chest, and neck, while her own fingers make their way to his hair, getting easily tangled into the long, soft curls that she twists absent-mindedly, revelling in the touch.
Ted is the one to break away from the kiss, interposing one finger between their lips, which she kisses, then sucks into her mouth even as she watches him trying to regain a modicum of composure. It's not too easy, as she's giving a pretty good impression of a blow job, and his eyes keep glancing at her mouth, even as he's endeavouring to look solely in her eyes. Still, he doesn't pull away, and it's obvious he's not all that intent on having the distraction stop.
"I'm sure your father wouldn't appreciate it," he nevertheless manages to say, and Andromeda has to admit she's impressed that he doesn't get sidetracked and pause.
She lets him go with a slick popping sound.
"C'm'on. There's nothing Father wouldn't let his favourite apprentice get away with."
Ted's hesitation is obvious. He should be saying, "I should get back to work", but it is equally obvious from their position that he doesn't want to. She's not hoping for a game, and anyway they both know what will be his final decision, so she pulls her left leg up, half-straddling him, upping the stakes with the temptation.
He acknowledges her efforts with a pleased smile. After all, this is a dance they've often performed, though usually not in such a straightforward manner.
"I'm sure he'd feel that there's a difference between 'telling annoying Ministry envoys off' and 'fucking his daughter'." He frowns. Andromeda thinks the line between his eyebrows shouldn't turn her on the way it does. She bends and proceeds to kiss her way up his jaw, with butterfly-light kisses. "Though I'm not sure how. I mean, anyway I'm only a lowly Mudblood, right?" He pauses; she nibbles on his ear. "Andromeda?"
Smiling, she straightens. She takes a moment to gauge him. His chestnut hair shine copper or golden; his skin has an outdoor type of glow to it that she can't bring herself to describe as 'healthy'; his mouth is underlined by the sole ray that illuminates the room.
She swiftly flicks her tongue against it, then sits back up.
Oooh, predatory glint burning in Ted's eyes. Now that means she won't have to play alone.
"Right. You're a lowly, lowly Mudblood, and you've been very, very bad."
"I have, haven't I?"
"Oh yeah. And Father would not be happy if he learned how awful you've been with me."
"Hmm," he pretends to muse. Andromeda loves it when he does that. He cracks up a goofy grin. "Maybe I enjoy being naughty."
"Playing coy won't get you laid," she warns, starting to rock her hips. She only has that much self-control.
He assumes a puzzled expression that makes her want to chain him to her bed and not let him out for a fortnight. "Oh? Then what will?" His hands are resting on her hips, letting her set her own pace.
"Be a good Mudblood and shut up," Andromeda instructs in a serene tone.
"You only want me for my blood," he complains, a hand snaking up to her breast and starting to play with her hardening nipple.
"Exactly", Andromeda confirms. "Sets mine boiling."
Ted lets out something that's not entirely a snort, and they exchange conniving smiles in the golden light. Around them, it's quiet, and still, and it's as if time has forgotten them. Together. Alone.
Author: runespoor7
Prompt: 013 - Yellow
Characters/Pairings: Andromeda, Ted (Andromeda/Ted)
Rating: R
Words: 950
Summary: Sleeping in. Post-coitum bliss. Or something like it.
Just lying on the bed, sheets rumpled and ruffled, staring at the ceiling, and listening to their mingling breaths. Sunlight clear and gold on naked skin, limbs mellow, and the taste of completion in their mouths. Without any idea or care about time or date, just - letting it flow, surrounding them, forgotten. Alone.
"God, I have no idea what time it is," he mutters.
Ted's slumped a little lower than she is; she arches an eyebrow in answer, still staring upwards, knowing he won't be able to see it.
"Does it matter?" she asks, amused by his remark. Post-coitum bliss. This is what Heaven must be made of.
She can feel his weight shift, and his head coming up until hazel eyes are looking into hers. Her gaze slips to his mouth, curled into a smile that she knows all too well, so strange, that she doesn't know if it annoys her or not.
"Well, not that I'm complaining, but surely your parents will have something to say about it."
She's mirroring his smile now, teasing and flirtatious. Just because they've burst out of the seducing phase of the relationship doesn't mean they have to stop having fun.
"My parents are all the way down the stairs, and we are alone in my locked, sound-secure room."
Andromeda rolls until she's on top of Ted, skin against skin, legs intertwined, and she's staring at him as if he's the prettiest boy she's ever done. Which is the case.
Slowly, she bends, softly bringing her lips to his, covering his smile. Warm and wet and golden like honey, in the shared obscurity of their joined mouths, between her legs, and all over her skin, pleasurable dampness stroked by the rays of the sun, lazily entering her room from between her half-drawn curtains. They take their time tasting each other.
His hands caress her steadily, shoulders, chest, and neck, while her own fingers make their way to his hair, getting easily tangled into the long, soft curls that she twists absent-mindedly, revelling in the touch.
Ted is the one to break away from the kiss, interposing one finger between their lips, which she kisses, then sucks into her mouth even as she watches him trying to regain a modicum of composure. It's not too easy, as she's giving a pretty good impression of a blow job, and his eyes keep glancing at her mouth, even as he's endeavouring to look solely in her eyes. Still, he doesn't pull away, and it's obvious he's not all that intent on having the distraction stop.
"I'm sure your father wouldn't appreciate it," he nevertheless manages to say, and Andromeda has to admit she's impressed that he doesn't get sidetracked and pause.
She lets him go with a slick popping sound.
"C'm'on. There's nothing Father wouldn't let his favourite apprentice get away with."
Ted's hesitation is obvious. He should be saying, "I should get back to work", but it is equally obvious from their position that he doesn't want to. She's not hoping for a game, and anyway they both know what will be his final decision, so she pulls her left leg up, half-straddling him, upping the stakes with the temptation.
He acknowledges her efforts with a pleased smile. After all, this is a dance they've often performed, though usually not in such a straightforward manner.
"I'm sure he'd feel that there's a difference between 'telling annoying Ministry envoys off' and 'fucking his daughter'." He frowns. Andromeda thinks the line between his eyebrows shouldn't turn her on the way it does. She bends and proceeds to kiss her way up his jaw, with butterfly-light kisses. "Though I'm not sure how. I mean, anyway I'm only a lowly Mudblood, right?" He pauses; she nibbles on his ear. "Andromeda?"
Smiling, she straightens. She takes a moment to gauge him. His chestnut hair shine copper or golden; his skin has an outdoor type of glow to it that she can't bring herself to describe as 'healthy'; his mouth is underlined by the sole ray that illuminates the room.
She swiftly flicks her tongue against it, then sits back up.
Oooh, predatory glint burning in Ted's eyes. Now that means she won't have to play alone.
"Right. You're a lowly, lowly Mudblood, and you've been very, very bad."
"I have, haven't I?"
"Oh yeah. And Father would not be happy if he learned how awful you've been with me."
"Hmm," he pretends to muse. Andromeda loves it when he does that. He cracks up a goofy grin. "Maybe I enjoy being naughty."
"Playing coy won't get you laid," she warns, starting to rock her hips. She only has that much self-control.
He assumes a puzzled expression that makes her want to chain him to her bed and not let him out for a fortnight. "Oh? Then what will?" His hands are resting on her hips, letting her set her own pace.
"Be a good Mudblood and shut up," Andromeda instructs in a serene tone.
"You only want me for my blood," he complains, a hand snaking up to her breast and starting to play with her hardening nipple.
"Exactly", Andromeda confirms. "Sets mine boiling."
Ted lets out something that's not entirely a snort, and they exchange conniving smiles in the golden light. Around them, it's quiet, and still, and it's as if time has forgotten them. Together. Alone.