The Mistletoe Meme

[mapsincolor]

Oh no, mistletoe!

 

SHOOT. Who put that there?! Well, you’re caught - pucker up!

How to Play

1. Post your character and canon in the subject line
2. Next person who responds is the one you’re caught under the mistletoe with!
3. Go as awkward, sweet, or embarrassing as you like! (Quick cheek peck? Full French? Sure! But you have to kiss or the Nargles will get you!)
4. Comment, Tag, and catch others under the mistletoe. Have fun!

Comments

[redrussian]

Maybe at the beginning, maybe at the very start that debt weighed heavily on her mind and had some sway, but that was at the very start. Now what they were, what they had become had nothing to do with debts or ledgers and if he was to bring it up Natasha would simply tell him he was being beyond stupid.

She laughed at his eagerness, wrapping her legs back around his waist, arms braced on his shoulders, "You've upgraded to a D, let's see if you can persuade me to give you an A Barton." Nails raked over his skin, one hand trailing down his chest. Damn she really, really missed this, being here like this with him, just having him around, a steady presence.

[broken_arrow]

Every time she laughed his heart soared, and he didn’t care how ridiculously cheesy that sounded. Maybe he would never admit it aloud, but still; it didn’t change how he felt.

For a brief moment he’d completely forgotten about the whole game earlier regarding grades, but he chuckled when he remembered. The chuckle turned into a hiss as she raked her nails over his skin, and when he pressed her back agains the wall again it was none too gently. After her order earlier he wasted no time in aligning himself at her entrance and burying himself deep inside of her with one swift thrust.

[redrussian]

And his grade was about to rise again when he finally fell over that threshold. Natasha didn't so much as scream, instead his name slipped past her lips buried in a whine and a growl, her legs tightening around his waist to keep him there, just for a moment while she surveyed the situation.

Evidently it didn't matter how many times she told herself that Love didn't exist for women like her, that Love was all a game, a trap. That feeling in her stomach had nothing to do with Clint suddenly being inside of her nor pressed so close. It was something more, deeper and a long time coming.

Her lips sought his, kissing him softly, nipping at his bottom lip, hands slipped up to thread fingers in his hair. This was Love. Didn't matter how many times she tried to tell herself it wasn't.

[broken_arrow]

Clint buried his face against her shoulder, grunting in pleasure when she locked him in place, his name on her lips sounding heavenly and oh so filthy at the same time. He felt complete again for the first time in weeks, any stress and anxiety that had built up in him fading.

He didn’t move, just let her hold him still as she adjusted to him, his breath huffing sharply across her skin until her lips found his. The kiss wasn’t rough, or fast, or desperate, and it was more than an expression of how hot she was for him. She kissed him softly, tenderly, and Clint instantly melted into the kiss, taking his time to explore but never deepening it. His heart was pounding, and he couldn’t recall a time she had ever kissed him quite like this, so full of affection. It was all he had been longing for for months, and otherwise he didn’t move, afraid it would end.

[redrussian]

Complete wasn't the word, something to that effect but deeper. Natasha could honestly say she'd never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so connected as she does with Clint. It's a dangerous trait to have given somebody control over your emotions and it's even more dangerous that she considers him her right hand rather than an insignificant pawn.

Her breathing stuttered against his lips, trying to steady herself and bring things back to reality and quickly. He'd read things she wasn't ready to divulge, he'd read things she couldn't afford to spill. She chased that from his mind by sinking teeth into his bottom lip softly, her hips chanting against his until she broke the kiss to out enough distance between their mouths, "Couch..." Just one simple word as an instruction.

[broken_arrow]

He was just letting himself believe it, just letting himself hope when she broke the spell. He couldn’t be too disappointed, not when she was moving against him like that, and while he would let his mind scour over it later for now he was quick to obey and let it go.

One word was enough, who really needed words anyway? Wrapping his arms around her to hold her tight, Clint turned away from the wall. To his left was one door and he could see a hint of tiled floor, and to the right a larger door which he banked on as the living room and headed toward. His assumption, thankfully, turned out correct and he proceeded to carry her across the room, his lips working on her shoulder as he peered over it to at least have an idea of where he was going. When he reached the couch, though, and tried to squeeze in between it and the coffee table he lost his footing and ended up falling onto the plush surface with Natasha beneath him.

[redrussian]

God she wished it was a spell, she wished she could be indifferent, that she didn't care about him or feel for him. It would be easier, in the long run, for it to be some kind of enchantment, but it wasn't. It felt real. Right down to her toes, in her bones, in every pore and scar. Natasha had committed the cardinal sin and fell in love with the man who'd taken her away from the Union in the first place.

If her instructors and tormentors could see her now they'd be in a state of complete and utter rage.

Natasha didn't exactly help guide him, oh now, far too busy biting his lips between her teeth or winding fingers into his hair.

As they neared the correct room curled into him, forehead pressed against his shoulder, every footstep brought a wave through her body and when they finally reached the couch he went and, well, he went and tripped over.

It was a good job Natasha wasn't made out of glass, but the way he fell on top of her both made her want to gasp and laugh, so she sank teeth into his shoulder and whimpered into his skin.

"Jesus, you know how to make an entrance Clint..."

[broken_arrow]

Every step had been a mix between pleasure and pain, and his ungraceful fall certainly didn’t buck that trend, especially when Natasha sank her teeth into his skin. Yelping and cursing against her neck, Clint tried to catch his breath and reorient himself. That had been far from one of his smoothest moves nor his best ideas, but at least they’d ended up in the right place.

“Yeah, well, I was well trained,” he muttered against her skin before placing a soft kiss against her neck. “You okay?” he asked with genuine concern. Sometimes they got more than a little rough, but if he ever actually hurt her it would be hard to forgive himself.