bakerstreet | (no subject)

(no subject)

CUDDLE MEME

what to do:
☆ post a comment with your character's name and fandom or preferences, if you have them.
★ use the magic RNG 1-12 to pick the cuddly scenario. or not.
☆ then cuddle it out!

cuddle choices:
① Sweet dreams It's been a long day and all you want to do is sleep or just rest your eyes for a bit. Hopefully whoever is close by doesn't mind if you use them as a blanket.
② Stormy weather The heavy rain, thunder and lightning won't be letting up anytime soon. Luckily, it's the perfect weather to stay indoors and snuggle up close and keep warm.
③ Lazy dancer It's the end of a party, or maybe it's only the two of you, but the tempo is slow and the lights are low. Let your dance partner take the weight and just sway.
④ Surprise attack Time to invade someone's personal space. Are they working too much and need a distraction? Maybe you just wanted to brighten their day. Either way, they won't see it coming.
⑤ Movie night It can be on the sofa or in a darkened theater, but you've got your popcorn and someone to settle against during your favorite movie.
⑥ I love you, man It's totally platonic, really. You're just very good friends, no matter what people like to think. But you just love your friend so much you want to hug them, whether they like it or not.
⑦ Jeepers creepers Welp. You were just frightened. Was it a spider in the washroom, a ghost in the attic, a bad dream? Either way, you're looking for someone to cling to right now, and who better than that person right there?
⑧ Hurt and comfort Whether you're sick in bed, just been dumped or suffered a traumatic event, you need someone to wrap their arms around you and make everything go away.
⑨ Sunday morning Maybe you just had a wild night. Maybe there’s just not enough space at your place and you need to share your bed. Or maybe you just got really tired and someone else happened to be there. Doesn't matter because now the person with you looks way more comfortable than any blanket or pillow. Drape to your heart’s content.
⑩ Moment after You just had incredible, vigorous sex (playing out is totally optional) and if you weren't a cuddler before, you are now. You're probably too exhausted to do anything else anyway. Just enjoy the moment.
⑪ Ménage à trois Or four, or five. Get a group and cuddle away.
⑫ Player's choice Pick one or make up your own!

coding taken from

erotiquely

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

The were finally back from possibly the weirdest mission they'd ever been sent on. She'd had to sit through a medical examination before throwing herself into a scorching hot bath before dragging herself down to the shared kitchen in the Tower.

Natasha basically felt every muscle twitching under her skin. The exertion from the mission coupled with well, her and Clint's extra curricular activities had taken it's toll on her physically.

Its why she was huffing herself around the kitchen, trying to locate something to eat before she planned to disappear into her bed for the next week and sleep.

Grabbing a pack of toaster waffles and slamming them in she sighed, leaning against the cabinets with arms heavy keeping her up. The bath hadn't helped, just made her muscles tighter and the ache had her constantly gritting her teeth. Thankful that she'd sent Clint off to debrief with Fury, rather than having to sit through three hours of questions she didn't want to answer.

The debriefing had been exceptionally long, drawn out and painful, at least in Clint’s eyes. In all reality it hadn’t been any worse than the usual, but he just had a lot more on his mind and someplace he would much rather be than Fury’s office, going over all the details. The Director didn’t like the fact that Natasha wasn’t there answering her own questions, her having been the one infected, but Clint had managed to talk her way out of it by promising she would have a detailed report on his desk by the end of the week. She wouldn’t like that, but it was as good as he could do, and it would have to be done anyway. He had to go through this torture, she could write it up.

Before he left Clint had been able to finagle a week off for the both of them, but he couldn’t skip out on a quick stop in at the medical bay, though he did manage to limit it to only giving blood for some tests instead of a full physical. That would have just led to more explaining.

Finally a few hours later he made it back to the tower and headed straight for Natasha’s room. He had expected to find her fast asleep in her bed; when he didn’t, he had checked his own. He was surprised when he finally located her in the kitchen.

“You owe me for that,” he said in way of greeting, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame. “Fury was less than pleased that you weren’t there yourself.”

It just so happened that Natasha liked typing up boring descriptions of their missions. Just not when she felt like her body was giving up. And not when she wanted to spend a whole week switching between her bed and the bathtub.

"I owe you? How do bad waffles sound?" She asked, not looking at him simply because it required too much effort to turn her head when her shoulders were already screaming at her. She took her anger out on the toaster, hitting it once. "Fury can bite me. I deserve to miss a debriefing. I've sat in front of that man with bullet wounds and managed to give a report, I miss one and he isn't pleased?" That did make her turn her head, instantly regretting the decision.

"He'll have a very detailed report, even if I will heavily doctor some of the details." She attempted a shrug but gave up, stretching to open the fridge and retrieve the butter. "I want waffles dripping in calories, you fancy it?"

Clint watched as she violently popped down the waffles and he couldn’t help but grin. She was clearly irritated, which he pegged on lack of sleep and the fact that she was clearly still very sore. He was a bit of a hurting unit himself, but he was a little better at working through it. “He wants it by the end of the week.” He shrugged, there hadn’t been much he could do about that.

For a little longer he just stood at the door, watching her. It was so damn tempting to just close the distance between them and wrap his arms around her but he had promised to be discrete and he wasn’t going to break so quickly. “I’m starving. Lay ‘em on me,” he replied, finally moving from his spot in the doorway. Passing behind her, he casually let his fingers brush along her back before busying himself with getting a few plates from the upper cupboard. Hey, it was discrete.

Edited 2012-09-25 22:16 (UTC)

"End of the week, got it" Natasha nodded, that was easy. She'd simply take her laptop to bed with her and type from a prone position, or use Clint as a table, either way she could do that on her back easy.

It suddenly felt very domestic, her cooking food, him standing around and she had to shake her head lightly to snap herself out of the 'what if's'. It came easy, she'd been asking that very question her whole life and never getting any answers.

She heard his footsteps, closing the gap and repressed a shudder as his fingers touched her. Granted she wasn't looking as, well, sexy as she could be. Throwing on a pair of shorts and a crumpled vest with her hair pinned up in an awkward pile on her head. But hell she was sore and irritated and now she thought about it starving.

She could think of countless other things she'd rather lay on him, the top being herself yet instead she simply pulled the toasted waffles from the contraption and dumped them on a plate, handing him the butter. "Yeah help yourself" Words were followed by a nod as she jammed more waffles into the toaster and pressed the button down, turning to lean her back against the counter top.

"Did Fury say anything? They practically gouged at my arms for samples even though I told them there was no point."

He was treading on new ground here. It was like she was an addiction: the more he touched her the more he wanted to touch her. It didn’t even have to be anything sexual, though he certainly craved that too; he just wanted to be in contact with her, to feel close to her. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole predicament, nor what to do about it other than just try to get over it.

Taking the plate he was handed, Clint buttered the waffles and took a big bite out of one.

“He wanted all the details of where you were, what you were in contact with, just basically anything that could tip them off about what the stuff was, where it was located and how it was transmitted,” he spoke as he chewed. “The fact that I wasn’t affected meant it either happened while we were split up or it wasn’t airborne and was something you had direct contact with.”

Taking another bite, he held the waffle out to Natasha. Wasn’t exactly fair, her waiting for the next batch. He didn’t even think about giving her the other whole one.

Natasha understood the art of addiction. She got how he felt, understood the need and the want. It was all new and Natasha wasn't anywhere near tired of it. It was strange of her to feel anything for anyone, but Clint had somehow wormed his way under her skin and broke down her walls. Only him.

"Happy days. Would help if I knew myself, although it's a grey area. At least I know what he's looking for, might cheer him up." She nodded, keeping eyes on the toaster, waiting for it to pop up and well, feed her.

She saw the motion, turned her head and half smiled, reaching to tear some of the waffle away, nibbling at it. Always a fussy eater, never satisfied unless she was tearing her food apart. A bad habit she'd picked up in times gone by. "Sharing your waffles huh?" She gave him a look, nudging him softly with her elbow, deeming it safe enough considering the only presence in the room was Jarvis and he'd probably be less concerned about them touching each other.

"Have you showered yet?" She asked softly, finally grabbing her own waffles and slathering butter over them, picking them apart with her fingers and stuffing tiny bits into her mouth.

Clint chuckled a bit at the reply. A well written report that touched on these issues would certainly help, but Fury was far from a ‘cheery’ guy. “Just make it thorough or you know he’s gonna make you pretty much repeat it all in person once we’re back from vacation.”

He threw it out there casually, the fact that he’d managed to get them the time off, and made sure not to draw any specific attention to it. He watched her for any reaction as he polished off the rest of the first waffle, but observing everything was his default mode, certainly not out of the ordinary.

At the question of the shower he paused a moment. That probably should have been his first stop, to get himself cleaned up from the mission, but instead he had made tracking her down his top priority. The worst part is he hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t even thought about it until she had just pointed it out. “Not yet.”

Edited 2012-09-25 23:56 (UTC)

"Hey my reports are always thorough" Natasha protested, almost not catching the last word through her ferociously buttering her waffles.

"Wait what?" Okay so she had a mouthful of waffle but the thought of any vacation time outweighed the cons of spitting food everywhere. She finally managed to swallow though, not wanted to shower Clint with half chewed food. "Vacation? How long? What? He agreed to vacation?" She was smirking, wiping a trail of butter from her beaten up lip.

Her eyebrow curved, he hadn't showered. It should have made her push him back but instead she let a smirk creep onto her lips, leaning closer, hell on the camera's it probably looked like they were having a heated debate, or just being secretive like they always were. "You mean, you haven't washed?" She half crinkled her nose yet she could smell him. Well, she could smell her all over him anyway. "You need to eat that waffle, get in my shower then get in my bed. There is no way you are getting between my clean sheets smelling like of debauchery and sweaty sex."

She should have been disgusted, yet there was something oddly- nice, about it. Being able to smell her on his skin for one, and of course the underlying smell of sex, that shouldn't have made her curve lips into a grin but she did anyway, taking a bite out of her waffle.

He took great joy in the fact that he had managed to surprise her and he smiled widely at her reaction. “You said you wanted a week off so I got us a week off,” he said with a shrug, as if that was all there was to it. Well, in his mind that had been enough, especially since she had wanted the week to just hang out with him, and that was even before the new development in their relationship.

Folding the second waffle in half, Clint took a large bite and chewed slowly, suddenly wary. The way she was looking at him then, getting all close and... was she smelling him? He stopped chewing and raised his eyebrows. She was clearly enjoying this, and slowly his own lips curled upwards.

“Even when the sweaty sex was with you?” he asked in a low voice, barely audible just in case. “Not that I’m arguing, that sounds like a good plan to me.” Anything that ended with him in her bed had to be good.

"How did you manage to get him to agree?" She was half shocked, the idea of Clint sweet talking Fury was hilarious. "I'm not complaining, just curious to your tactics". If Natasha had asked she'd have put her all into it, since Fury seemed to like her it wouldn't have been hard but hell, Clint lacked some assets that Tasha had.

She carelessly nodded, yes she had been sniffing him, innocently licking butter off her fingers. "Even though it was with me." Nodding, voice matching his as she stuffed more tiny bits of waffle in her mouth.

"I didn't think you'd complain, not really much to complain about. I'm feeding you, letting you use my shower and allowing you into my bed" Her voice was still low, still close enough to smell him, close enough to reach out and brush fingers along his stomach slowly before moving to clean up the crumbs, pratically throwing the butter back in the fridge.

Natasha’s shock made Clint feel almost... what was the manly form of ‘giddy’? He liked seeing her happy, especially when he was the cause of it, and he also enjoyed still being able to surprise her after all this time. “I told you before, I’m pretty damn irresistible,” he replied, not willing to give up his tactics that easily. It was more fun to keep her guessing, and hopefully impressed and grateful.

Finishing off the second waffle in three bites, he wiped his hands on the front of his trousers. She had him there, certainly nothing to complain about at all. Still, he couldn’t help but hope that that second item on the list included her company as well as the other two. She had made him breakfast, such as it was, and would certainly be in the bed as well. The shower was still up in the air.

“Don’t suppose you have some of my clothes stashed in your room as well?” he asked, eyes following the movement of her hand as she barely touched him. It was enough, though, to leave him wanting more.

"Irresistible? You haven't killed him have you?" Natasha gave him that look, eyeing him up before shrugging it off. Nobody was that stupid, not to take on Fury anyway. She was half impressed anyway, considering Fury usually just snorted and passed out another assignment, so to get a day off, let alone a week was a blessing. "I don't know what you did, but congratulations."

Taking his plate, placing it on top of her own and sliding them into the dish washer she laughed softly. "Yeah, I always end up with your clothes. Probably a sign you should stop leaving them scattered everywhere before you run out."

She started moving, rolling her shoulders as she walked back towards the elevator to her floor, cocking a head over her shoulder. "Come on, you stink and I managed to find a couple of Disney films in Steve's room. I plan to start my education early, even if there's a good chance I'll pass out before the opening scene."

“Nah, he’s still in one piece,” Clint replied, just continuing to grin widely at her while she tried to puzzle it all out. He was enjoying this far too much, and had no intention of stopping. “Thank you, thank you,” he performed a small bow.

Handing over his plate, he followed after her as she headed for the lift. “I don’t leave them everywhere he protested. “I think you just use that as an excuse so you can steal some of them. I haven’t seen that sweatshirt I bought when we were in London for a few months now.”

Once the elevator doors had shut behind them he was so tempted to kiss her, to just touch her at least, but somehow he managed to hold back. It had been hours since he’d felt her skin against his and he was craving it like a drug. “If you pass out I reserve the right to turn it off.”

"I guessed, because you haven't been maimed" Natasha doubted even she could take Fury out if she wanted to. Natalia would beg to differ but she'd never let herself be put in a compromised situation, until Clint came along and even then Natalia had bled away. "Alright stop dragging it out."

She smirked, couldn't help it, shrugging. "You know that sweatshirt looked better on me than you anyway. It's comfortable. I wear it in bed when it's cold." As if that reason could instantly make everything better, then again knowing him it would.

Natasha looked him over, stabbing the button to her own floor, sure she had the urge to dive on him, lock legs around his waist considering they had a moment where nobody could see them, yet with how tired her muscles felt she hadn't got the stamina to balance her own weight, so she simply moved an inch closer, letting her hip nudge his. "If I pass out I give you permission to turn it off, your commentary sucks anyway" She half wondered if there were Russian subtitles, just to piss Natalia off. She even went as far to smirk to herself as the tiny lost voice at the back of her head told her to fuck off.

Nick Fury was a definite badass, and not someone to be taken lightly. Clint would never even dream of throwing down with him, not just because the man was his boss and he respected him, but that he knew the Director would completely own his ass.

“Dragging what out?” Clint asked innocently. “Just be glad you got the time and don’t question it.” He had managed to get them both the same time off, after all.

“Alright, fine, it looks better on you, but what doesn’t?” She could wear a potato sack and still manage to look sexy, he swore. There was something about the idea of her wearing his sweater to bed, though; wrapping up in its warmth, falling asleep with something of his around her. “Well, now you have me to keep you warm.”

Glancing her way at the gentle nudge, he turned his eyes back to the flashing number above the door, silently counting in his head until they reached her floor. “My commentary is awesome, you just can’t handle how much better it makes every movie.”

Edited 2012-09-27 00:07 (UTC)

"Hey I was curious okay, can't help it" She was glad, Natasha hardly ever took time off, let alone a whole week. Generally no matter what she was there and ready to work, it took her mind off of other things, stopped her thinking.

"Yeah, still keep the sweater though" Sure she had him but there'd always be those nights when she didn't, when he was off on missions and she was left alone, it kept her warm and somehow she swore it smelt faintly of him too.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing arms over her chest. "No, that's not true, you give away plot points, that's just bad behavior." Finally the elevator stopped and she simply nudged him again, heading out and straight into her area. Sure she could have decorated a little better but with no personal items it was difficult. There was the set of nesting dolls on a shelf surrounded by second hand books written in Russian and the music box which she'd picked up at some market, simply because of the tiny ballerina inside.

"Go shower Clint" Her head tilted, watching him with a look that suggested he hurried it up, kept walking until she found the edge of her bed and sat down, kicking off the battered pumps from her feet.

He enjoyed that she was curious and intended to leave her that way. She didn’t need to know just how easy it had been; he preferred her impressed and grateful.

“Fine, but I’m taking back my ‘Streaking’ t-shirt,” he compromised. The logo stated If you find this t-shirt, I’ve gone streaking on the front, and that was one that Clint purposefully left laying around for amusement sake.

“I do not!” he protested in regards to his movie watching tendencies. It was a total lie, he talked constantly and sometimes there were definite spoilers, and if someone asked him a question about what was going to happen he usually answered, though not always truthfully. It wasn’t like he did it all on purpose, though; he just... really enjoyed films. “And even if I did, I haven’t seen most of these so I can’t say much. Besides, they’re fairytales. Everyone knows what happens.”

Mostly. Some original fairytales were pretty horrific.

Following Natasha into her room, he closed the door behind them and breathed a deep sigh. It had been a while since he’d been in here, but it always felt comfortable, almost like home.

“Alright, alright, I’m going. Just gotta do one thing first,” he said. Stopping as he was moving past her he bent forward and caught her chin between thumb and forefinger and kissed her soundly. “I’ve been thinking about that all day,” he said when he pulled back, hopefully as close to cheesy lines as he would get. “As for the shower, you’re welcome to join me.” He winked.

She instantly gave him an innocent look at the mention of the other shirt. Okay so Natasha generally ended up with a lot of his clothes, generally his shirts. Sometimes it was accidental and sometimes hell it was really on purpose. "Ugh fine you can have that one". It was tough but she probably should return some of them.

Natasha would have pouted but she refrained, instead just fixed him with a long, hard stare. "Everyone knows what happens.. oh yeah.. I forgot about that. Must have watched them in between the water-boarding and working on my killing blows." She shrugged, all right the joke was a little distasteful but he was talking to a woman who'd been locked away from the age of six, or was it seven? Natasha didn't remember.

She knew that was coming, planting hands backwards on the bed, giving her the balance to make the effort to kiss him back. The mention of the shower had Natasha rolling her eyes. "Now why would I want to do that when I've had probably the longest bath ever?" Then again in the confines of her shower they didn't need to be so discrete. "Maybe. I'll leave you hanging on that one." Oh the element of surprise.

Clint visibly winced at her ‘joke’, instantly regretting his choice of words. His father had been an abusive drunk who enjoyed beating the snot out of his boys and their mother, though Clint had always positioned himself to take the worst of it; that didn’t exactly lead to many happy family fun times, but it couldn’t compare to what Natasha had gone through. “Sorry, I’ll try to keep my comments to myself so I don’t ruin the end,” he said, genuinely apologetic, though it was for much more than his commentary.

“Because you can never be too clean?” he answered lamely. Clearly there were much better reasons, but he certainly didn’t have to explain them to her. The maybe was enough. “Always the air of mystery with you.” A bit reluctantly he straightened up and headed into the washroom.

It definitely felt good to lose the clothes and step into the hot steam of the shower. Despite all his posturing his muscles ached and he just stood there a moment, eyes closed, and let the pressure and the heat massage him.

Natasha shrugged at his wince. It was true, from the vague memories. They seemed to be the only ones she really remembered. She knew slithers of Clint's past, from spending so long reading files and filling in the blanks, but anything deeper then the outskirts and she blanked it. She had her own baggage to carry day in day out, even though she was always there if he needed to talk she couldn't face his demons as well as her own.

"I'm a spy, of course i'm mysterious." She watched him go, falling back on her bed and tangling arms in her sheets. Just that quick movement made her muscles relax and it was an effort to push herself up. Finally she decided it would probably benefit her from another dose of hot water, not only that but she could make sure he was actually washing and not just standing around, yeah excuses excuses.

Feet were light, throwing off her vest and shucking her shorts off. Not making a sound until she was behind him and smirking to herself under the spray that kept catching her, finally sliding an open palm in between his shoulder blades and leaning to rest her forehead on his spine. "Hey, fancy meeting you here, in my shower."

It had taken longer than he’d figured, and Clint had all but given up on the idea of her joining him. In fact he was just rinsing the shampoo from his hair when he felt her touch. He smiled to himself.

“Fancy that,” he replied, one hand reaching behind him to rest on the side of her thigh. “Come here often?”

He was tired enough that he could almost believe that this was a dream; it wasn’t like he hadn’t had dreams like this before. This time it definitely felt read, though; everything from the slight sting of the hot water to the pressure of her head resting against his back.

"You're the most oblivious person ever, and of course I come here often, it appears to be my shower" She could smell the shampoo, laughing softly at the fact he'd chosen the vanilla one. "You smell like me, you're not turning into one of those weirdly obsessive guys are you? I'm not gonna come back from a mission and find you wearing my dress and a red wig am I?"

She stayed as far out of the spray as possible, really not wanting to soak her hair through again, pressing lips to his spine softly. "I'm joking. You smell good".

All of this felt unreal, from the mission to now, then again Natasha had a history with things being unreal, and she was pretty sure none of this fitted into any of the categories considering it all felt right, as if she was still here and not lost in her own little world.

“So it is,” Clint chuckled, wiping the water from his eyes with one hand. “Nah, just using your shower and sleeping in your bed,” he joked back, sighing contently at the feel of her lips on his skin. He could definitely get used to this, to all of it. It wasn’t just the physical intimacy, though he was definitely looking forward to more of that, but everything. They had grown very close over the years, letting each other in while barring out the rest of the world, but he almost felt like all the barriers had been dropped between them and they were closer than ever in every way.

Turning slowly around to face her, he wiped a hand back over his hair, slicking it down and removing some of the excess water, and took a step closer to her so the shower’s spray was now against his shoulders instead of his head. “Hey,” he just said simply, softly, now that they were face to face.

"Good because the dress won't fit you and I like it so don't stretch it" Natasha smirked, curling a hand around his hip. It felt domesticated, like a part of her knew that this was what she should be doing with her life, finding someone she felt comfortable with, someone she could connect with in every way, yet that obvious part of her had no idea how to cope with feelings and emotion. In honesty it scared her, it's why she didn't discuss it, made no move to tell Clint how much she really enjoyed his company because she was scared it would be another great lie.

A smile tugged her lips as he turned, grateful he was blocking the water yet it also made her skin prickle with goosebumps, that she could deal with, getting her hair wet was something she really couldn't be bothered to deal with. "Hey Hawk" She finally got to see her handiwork, eyes lingering on the bite mark on his arm. She probably should apologize, yet for some reason she wasn't sorry instead she slid arms around his neck and raked fingers through the hair on the back of his head. "A whole week of you in my shower and my bed, every girls favorite dream come true".

Natasha Romanoff | MCU

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