theonewhocounted: (Happy)
[personal profile] theonewhocounted
The Bright Spot Meme


(Was there every a more suitable meme for dear Molly?)

UPDATE SNOW DAYS ARE THE BEST

Date: 2017-03-14 04:01 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Sincerely.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
"Great."

(He's really not fond of the word boyfriend, because he's hardly a boy anymore, but there are really very few terms in English that even come close to sounding acceptable. Though he supposes he's grateful they're not French, as he remembers learning that the standard phrase for someone you're in a relationship with is petite amie, and Molly is certainly a lot more than a 'little friend'.)

"And it'll be more than crisps this time, as it's a terrible idea to eat those in bed."

Date: 2017-03-14 05:37 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Not bad.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
He finds himself laughing too, caught up in the absurdity of the idea. It makes for a very dramatic image, like something you might see on the cover of a terrible romance novel.

"Feed you? Are you planning to handcuff yourself to the headboard?"

Although as soon as he's said it, he finds himself actually considering the idea, which is... actually sort of appealing. Not the bonbons part of it, though, just the handcuffs.

Date: 2017-03-14 06:00 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Not bad.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
Abruptly the moment's starting to change, the heat between them sparking up again. It's probably going to keep being a little alarming to him for a while that his sexual response to her can be as immediate and powerful as it is, but right now that only adds to the thrill.

"I might," he says, his voice dropping a bit. "Though I didn't bring my cuffs, so I'd have to use the scarf instead."

Date: 2017-03-14 06:40 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Not bad.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
He realizes his window of focus is about to start narrowing dangerously.

"We should put away the nutella, at least," he says--after all, even if he and Toby don't exactly get along, that cat is very dear to Molly and he'd hate to be responsible for Toby getting sick off food that shouldn't be out. "But. Yes. I am serious."

Date: 2017-03-14 09:15 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Biology doesn't lie.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
"Then I'll go get the scarf."

Which won't take nearly as long, but he can get a few other things out of the way while she's tidying up, he thinks.

As casually as he can manage (which is not very, thanks to the fact that he's already half hard), he pushes out of his seat and heads into the hall to grab his scarf. He also snags the variety pack of condoms, in case she wants to try something a little different--personally he's a bit curious as to whether the textured ones make any sort of noticeable difference, but ultimately it's her decision.

By the time she gets back into the bedroom, he's plugged in his phone (still silenced, which is how he plans to keep it for most of the day), found one of Toby's catnip toys and put it out in the living room to encourage him not to interrupt, and stripped back down to nothing. After all, if her hands are going to be tied, it's probably best to be naked before they get started.

Date: 2017-03-14 09:55 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Gotcha.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
"I could get a poster done," he teases, and turns to give her a full-on view of how hard he already is for her. "However, we're a bit unbalanced, and that's hardly fair. And you did tell me to be nicer to your tits, which I can't do adequately if I can't see them."

He's got one end of the scarf wrapped loosely around his right hand, and he plays with the other end, fingers worrying the soft fabric of it suggestively.

Date: 2017-03-14 11:32 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Gotcha.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
"I think I'd like to watch you do it, this time," he purrs, spurred on by her boldness. "Knickers too. And then come sit on the bed by me."

Date: 2017-03-14 11:54 pm (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Biology doesn't lie.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
He watches her hungrily--showing off, he realizes, putting herself on display for him even though she knows how harsh his opinions can be. That confidence excites him, and he's still so surprised that he could have missed deducing what a capacity she has for it. But then, he's only just let himself get close enough to see her properly.

When she sits, he turns towards her a bit, brings the end of the scarf down to trail over the warm bare skin of her thigh. It's incredibly soft, like rabbit fur or silk, and he enjoys watching her skin prick up as the scarf ghosts over it.

"Much better," he says, and leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth.

Date: 2017-03-15 12:21 am (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
He returns that kiss slowly, warmly, the two of them almost melting into one another for a moment. His free hand comes up to brush at her cheek, a silent reassurance that she can trust him.

After a long, long taste of her, he makes himself pull back, at least enough to whisper against her mouth.

"I'll stop if you need me to. As soon as you say. All right?"

Date: 2017-03-15 01:28 am (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
He smiles, just slightly, lips curving against her mouth. That word trust sinks into him deeply, just as deeply as the heat of a good long shower, causing tension to release by inches in his shoulders and back and fingers.

"Then lie back," he says softly, pressing a small warm kiss to her throat. "Hands above your head."

Date: 2017-03-15 01:43 am (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (Biology doesn't lie.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
Slow, careful, he moves to lean down over her as she eases herself back.

He's subdued enough criminals--and tied himself to enough posts, for various reasons--that he knows his way around knots. He makes sure her wrists are secure but that the scarf isn't tight enough to cut off her circulation, and loops it efficiently around one of the slats in her headboard. Not too tightly, just enough to keep her from worming loose by accident.

"All right?" he asks, once she's bound, watching her eyes carefully.

Date: 2017-03-15 02:47 am (UTC)
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)
From: [personal profile] punchmeitssubtext
He runs a fingertip down her cheek, acknowledging her consent, and then bends to press his lips against her throat. His hand strays down from her face to her breast, cupping it gently, thumb rubbing over her already-hard nipple.

Instead of leaving marks, this time, he simply explores the soft expanse of her neck. He traces over the long curves of muscle, searching for the spots that make her gasp and squirm, devoting the same careful attention to her that he would to a newly-discovered artifact, or to some strange new chemical reaction.

Except somehow she's better than either of those things, because she's alive and reactive and even though she can hold her own against him she's given him permission to... well, have his way with her.

He rumbles quietly, wordlessly against her skin, thumb circling her nipple.

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Molly Hooper

February 2024

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