bakerstreet | Sunday Smutty Sunday

[Please link images. Mild preferences for oral and anal.]

[ f/m preference. any and all canon mates welcome. ]

[ f/m preference.]

[ obvs okay with cw spoilers. let me know if you're not.]

[ Sharon was sure that some women forgot that Steve Rogers was just a man. An incredible man but a man, not a god, not some deity to worship or throw yourself at. He was a man, human, flesh and blood, with needs. That wasn't the reason they were here in this place, however. It wasn't some kind of international booty call. Steve had wanted to make sure that Sharon was alright and she'd wanted to do the same for him. It'd taken her two days to shake her tail in Berlin, ten hours to get to the island that they'd agreed on, an island that didn't believe in many laws (huzzah tax havens), let alone extradition.

And somehow, well, it evolved into an international booty call. Okay, so it was more than that. It was two people with needs, two humans who'd been through a lot, lost a lot (lost the same person in different ways). She would say it was almost cliche the way they sort of fell into each other, if she hadn't been right in the middle of it. The first round had been... energetic. Frantic and frenzied, two people desperate to reconnect with someone else, to connect with each other for the first time.

After the second round, she needed a breather. Super soldiers don't mess around and it seems, they don't need much of a recovery time. Sharon was sure that whoever had the room next to them, below them, above them would agree that his stamina was impressive, considering how many sounds Steve managed to get out of Sharon.

By now, the two of them were very comfortable with the sight of their bare bodies, Sharon stretches hers out like a cat before she glances over at him. And she has to laugh as she notices his hand moved slowly over his cock, beneath the sheets. Maybe he's just adjusting but she has a feeling it's more than that.]

Steve Rogers, you're amazingly insatiable. [ And she's not complaining one bit.]

Edited 2016-05-25 05:14 (UTC)

[He had no intention of things happening like they did. But he doesn't regret a moment of it. Being with Sharon was the one thing that felt right in this whole mess of a situation he had found himself in. Kissing her, touching her, making love to her... it was all he could have ever wanted.

Steve would never consider this an international booty call. She meant much more to him than that. They were just...doing things a little out of order.

He honestly wasn't thinking about the chivalrous order of events right now, though. He was more focused on the way her naked body looked in the dim lighting of the room, the way she stretched and moved. He recalled the sounds she made when he was buried inside of her and--

Well, it was no wonder his hand slipped under the sheets, wrapping around the base of his cock and slowly stroking. He hesitates when she notices, stops momentarily, but her laugh encourages him, so he starts up again.]

Is it any wonder when I've got a beautiful woman laying naked beside me? What can I say- I'm inspired.

[ Oh, she wants him encouraged, she wants him inspired. This is more than just sex, she knows that, she feels in from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, she feels it in her heart, she felt it when their bodies were tangled together, their hands too, the first time he was inside of her, the first time they made love. Maybe things were out of order but she wasn't sure when they'd get this chance again and well, dating a fugitive wouldn't make it any easier to do things "the right way" for a while.

She couldn't help but be a bit tickled by their current circumstances, by the sight of him stroking himself all be cause, as he said, of her. It was, for a lack of a better term, hot.

Her lips curve into something akin to a smug little smirk,] I'm feeling a little inspired myself. [ Her teeth drag along her bottom lip for a moment, watching the sheet move as his hand slides over his cock. Her hand moves too, moves to pull at the sheet blocking her view, tugging it out of the way.] I think I should show you... what do you think?

[As she tugs the sheet away, he doesn't stop his slow stroking. He's not ashamed of it now. They've shared so much with each other. She can see any part of him that she wants to. He's painfully hard, though, not showing any signs of fatigue from their two prior rounds.]

Show me what, exactly? [He asks, raising an eyebrow, very curious.]

[ She doesn't bother hiding how pleased she looks at the sight of him there, in his naked glory, hard. Her gaze is hungry now, her body moved away from his, slithering down the bed some, moving to tuck herself between his legs, kneeling. ] Show you something different. [ Her hand reaches out to stop his, her fingers brushing his away so they can take over, stroking at the same pace as he was. ] Show you what my mouth can do.

[Watching her move to position herself between his legs, Steve is starting to get a vague idea of where this might be going. He licks his lips idly, watching her and wondering how long they can stay here before one or both of them needs to move on. But as soon as she shoos his hand away and wraps her own around his cock, he can't think about anything but how good it feels. His eyes close briefly as she strokes him. He could let her do this all day- possibly literally. But the moment she mentions her mouth, his eyes open, now wide with surprise and arousal.]

I... [He's never experienced that particular act. But he can't deny that he wants it.] Yeah?

[ His fumbling response is as good as a yes as any, in fact, she likes it best. She has no idea what experience he has, she assumes he was pretty popular with the ladies back in the day. And while she'd never seen a woman come back to his place when she was monitoring him as his neighbor, that didn't mean...

She grins at him.] Yeah. [ Humming softly, she moves to lean forward, letting her breath fall over the sensitive skin of his cock, giving him a tiny taste of what it might feel like.]

[Just that touch of her breath over the head of his cock is enough to make him twitch. A moan hitches in his throat and his eyes close briefly.]

And you say I'm the insatiable one. [He smiles at her, lust and affection on his gaze. Is this love? It might be, but right now isn't the time to think about that. They can enjoy one another, though. They can have this incredible night.]

I never said I wasn't, [ she teased back with a soft voice, her fingers curling around him a little tighter. She likes the way he looks, the way he feels and she's not about to deny him something they both want. No more teasing. Her mouth moves over the tip of his cock, tongue sliding along the sensitive skin there before she lowers her mouth, taking him between her lips and inside.]

[He doesn't realize that he's holding his breath until her lips wrap around him and he lets out an exhale to moan. His back arches a bit, trying to hold himself back from bucking his hips up, but wow he wants to.]

That feels... [He swallows hard, gasping almost immediately.] Sharon, wow...

[ For a moment, her free hand moves to brace on his abdomen, to keep him from moving too much as she takes him in her mouth. Humming softly at the sound he makes, she moves to hold him steady with the other hand. She takes a moment to let him adjust before she slowly starts to bob her head, stroking him with lips and tongue. ]

[If he thought it felt nice before, there were fireworks going off behind his eyes once she started to move. His mouth falls partly open, watching her with rapt attention, small, panting noises escaping him as she works him over.]

That feels... [He groans again, cock throbbing against her tongue.] incredible. Just incredible. Oh my god.

[ Humming softly at his encouragement, she moves to keep her head moving, working her mouth over the length of him. Her hand works in tandem, trying to the sensations varied and a little overwhelming. Not to mention, she likes the way he sounds, those soft panting sounds new to her.]

[He's never felt anything like this. It's not quite as good as being inside of her, but the way she moves, and the variation of sensations just...]

Sharon... [Instinct moves his hand to reach to comb his fingers through her hair.]

[ It's not as good as having him inside of her but she feels pleasure at knowing that she can make him sound the way he does, to know that she's the reason he's feeling good, in a whole different way. Her mouth moves a little faster, her tongue works a lot harder, her hand stroking him when her mouth focuses on the tip of his cock.]

[As she continues to work, the pleasure mounts, causing his hips to move ever so slightly. His fingers curl in her hair, holding on lightly. He's careful not to do it too tightly.]

Oh my god. [He breathes the words out without even realizing it, head tipping back as his eyes shut tight.] You're... that's... god.

[ Sharon's feeling a little smug at the moment and she's keen to keep this going, to hear more sounds from him, to feel his cock pulsate in her mouth, to twitch against her lips. And she moves to start bobbing her head a lot more, taking him in her mouth even deeper than before, as deep as she's comfortable doing it. The hand at his hip moves to rub gently, trying to urge him to move his hips if he wants, to stroke himself within her mouth if that's what makes him feel good.

Her other hand moves, sliding down her own body, between her legs, to touch, just a little, her own body aching with the lack of friction.]

Edited 2016-06-10 01:54 (UTC)

[He's got a lot of stamina, thanks to the serum. But she's pushing him to the edge already. It's just not a sensation he's used to, and the sight of her head bobbing down there? It's entirely too arousing. He groans again, able to see her hand slip down her body. He can guess what she's doing and it's even hotter to know that.]

Sharon... C'mere. I... [He wants to feel her, hold her, touch her.]

[ She pulls back a bit to look up at him, as he asks her to come there.] You want me to stop-- [ it's more of a question, her lips quirking a bit as she moves to brace herself on his thighs with both hands.]

God, no. [Well...he does and he doesn't. His cock twitches between them, already aching from the lack of attention. His hips shift a bit, looking over her face and body, amazed at how beautiful she is.]

But I feel like I should be-- I don't know. Doing something here.

[It feels great, but he wants to make her feel good too.]

[ She rocks forward a little, to press her lips to his for a brief moment.] Where do you want me, Cap?

Right here... [He murmurs softly against her lips as he pushes himself to sit up a bit more, turning her around to rest between his legs. He presses a gentle trail of kisses down the line of her neck while his hands roam her body.]

You drive me wild, you know that?

[ There's no small amount of satisfaction that comes from what he says. It's hard not to be a little smug when someone as wonderful as Steve Rogers says something like that to you. Grinning, she turns her head, settling against his chest a little.]

You're not much of a slouch yourself, Rogers.

[He lets out a quiet chuckle at her comment, one hand reaching to cup her breast while the other slides further down her torso.]

Why, thank you, Miss Carter. How nice of you to say so.

[His thumb and forefinger tug at her nipple, rolling it a big as his other hand splays to cover as much of her her torso as he can, wanting to feel every inch of her.]

[ Her body presses against the length of his, a soft sigh escaping her lips as his hands slide along her body, one cupping her breast as the other seems to hold her steady.

A shiver of pure delight runs up her spine when his finger rolls her nipple, a soft laugh escaping her lips.]

You're also a tease.

Am I? [He asks, as if he's completely clueless. But as he says it, he pinches her nipple just a smidge harder while his other hand creeps further down to reach between her thighs.]

I prefer to think of it as taking my time. Savoring the moment. [His fingertips barely brush her clit, but even that small touch causes his erection to throb against her back.]

[ The laugh she lets out is breathless, a little strained as he takes his time touching her, not quite enough. Shifting against him, she purposefully provides his cock a little friction, trying to encourage him to touch her more.]

[He hums appreciatively as she moves against him, rewarding that touch with a little more pressure from his hand between her legs. He rubs a small circle with two fingers over her clit while his other hand palms her breast. His hips lift ever so slightly, but mostly his attention is focused on making her feel good. His mouth returns to her neck, kisses trailing up to her ear where he lets out a labored breath.]

How's that?

[ The man has amazing hands, he's also a quick learner. Two things she appreciates now more than ever. He touches her just as she'd showed him how before, her hips quirking into the touch, a soft sound escaping her lips, something between a moan and a sigh of relief.]

Better.

[Better is good, but Steve is convinced he can improve from here. Smirking, he picks up the speed of his fingers on her clit, his other hand leaving her breast to lift up to her chin, tilting her face back towards him so that he can capture her lips in a searing kiss. There's no lack of passion here, especially considering that he has no idea when he'll see her next once they part ways.]

[ She gasps softly against his lips, melting into that kiss. Her kiss is hungry as his is, her body arching and pressing against his, the back into his touch. Her breathing picks up, her legs start to quiver a little.]

[He pays attention to the way her body moves, matching his pace to roll with her. His fingers slip down a little further to tease at entering her before returning to her clit. When he breaks away from her mouth, he's breathing a little heavier.]

Do you like that?

Yes-- [ she gasps out, her head falling back against his shoulder, body rolling restlessly against his. Her hands move to grab at his thighs, using them as leverage, to keep her anchored as she moans out his name. ] God, yes.

( link images, por favor. open to almost all the ships in all the galaxies. )

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( ❃ ❃ ❃ )

Kink list!

[ link images, no fluff, let me know which flavor of bucky you'd like ]

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[ continuing off our other thread where he's winter soldier? ]

[ sure go ahead, hit me! ]

After their first assignment in the training room - the viable samples from their body fluids tested, assessed, filed away by HYDRA staff - at first they go their separate ways. The second round where they're locked into the the same room goes about the same, with the Soldier obeying every order and his cock straining as he moans and gasps, the only sound he makes aside from status reports.

The third time's different. This time the Soldier breaks protocol to seek his handler out, as if her pheromones extend across the base and through the reinforced walls of his "storage". While his techs assume he's quietly sitting and staring forward like usual, he gets up and leaves and once he's out of the doors, the other people on base just assume he's allowed to go wherever he wants. The Asset finds Jessica putting away her training gear. He comes at her with a knife and the unfamiliar hunger in his eyes that only rears its head when he's being "assessed" by her. Seems like he can't ignore the pull or wait for the next tests.

He doesn't plunge it into her like the last time he turned unstable. Instead he almost gentle swipes it too shallow, lets it cut off the strap of her tank top before he yanks it down, revealing her bra and her shoulder, bruised from whoever she had been sparring with before he got there.

"Strip," he growls.

Till Vermis had mentioned she hadn’t dwelled much on those special assignments HYDRA had for her and the Soldier –she had been rather busy with tasks and breaking in new recruits, and the only reason her own handler had brought it out had been to inform her it wasn’t going to be necessary to do it again. She hadn’t inquired about the reason, it wasn’t her place after all, not when she had a mission coming soon.

Whipping the floor with the poor unlucky few send to “train” for her had been preparation for it, not that it could count much as one since they hadn’t put much of a fight –they hadn’t been able to do much damage and it’s a shame the only bruising she has is the one her own handler left her with, she would have preferred those from a good fight. She’s putting away her gear so she can go get ready and be sent out, when her senses alert her she’s no longer alone in the room.

Her eyes narrow at seeing the Soldier there with a knife and she’s more than ready to fight him back –not wanting to be bothered with damage, not when she had a job to do. But when he redirects it to her clothes, she’s quiet and stares at him blankly at his growl yet doesn't moves to do as he asked (ordered).

“...Soldier?”

The Winter Soldier still has the knife in his hand. The important part is he isn't trying to take a swing at her with it - not one with the intent to kill, anyway.

"Jessica." There's something almost reverent in his voice, underneath the programming and the countless wipes. "We should continue where we left off."

And to make his point clear, he flips the knife suddenly so he's holding it by the blade, hilt out toward his handler. It's his version of an olive branch. With her familiar pheromones filling the air, making even the Winter Soldier aware that she's stunningly beautiful, and it seems like the obvious call to make. The longer he stays in close proximity, the more he aches, warmth pooling in his crotch. His uniform feels too hot and confining all off a sudden and Jessica. Well. He realizes with vague surprise that he liked her better with her clothes off and straddling him.

Some alarms bells go into her mind when he calls her that –had he been informed of something she hadn’t? It wouldn’t exactly be the first time, after all, the very first time they did this he knew more about it than her.

Her eyes narrow at him in suspicion when the knife is offered at her –which it’s probably better than being stabbed with it. She lets a moment pass before finally taking the knife accepting whatever middle ground being offered at the moment, her eyes examine the Soldier face and there’s something there, something unfamiliar yet at the same time not. Carefully, mostly to remind herself not to act harshly, she taps the tip of the knife against his uniform thoughtfully before turning around and moving to stash it with her training gear.

It wouldn’t do for her to stab the other ace HYDRA had due out misplaced bitterness about what had happened once. “And how do you propose we should achieve that, Soldier?”

The knife point presses against his chest, missing the pressure it would need to cut into his skin. "Take it into that room," he points with a whirr of his false arm to the small locker room, complete with shower and benches, much harder than the cot they had back in the testing room. "I can disable the camera if you're concerned."

Which says a lot about Jessica's influence - even he feels like he need to pleasure her, scratch that itch, and for once he's willing to buck HYDRA's brainwashing to get it done.

His eyes track the knife as she puts it away, his chin lifting.

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[ sure am okay with it! which version of bucky would you like? ]

[Self aware Bucky preferred]

To be totally honest, Bucky hasn't really had too much sex after Project Insight and the memories began trickling in. It was a combo of it not feeling like he had the time or trust: throw in his arm and that's already too many questions asked. Easier to focus on finding out who - what - he was. Relationships go on the backburner. The flirt he used to be a lifetime ago is just a ghost.

Then he meets Wanda. Some stranger who can fling cars around like snowballs and he can't take his eyes off her. They've both been through HYDRA - he thinks that's why they click and while he isn't sure they can call this a relationship, he'll say it's definitely something. When he comes out of cryo and the Wakandans give him a new arm, he finds out that Wanda has dropped by to visit; they catch up, make up for lost time.

Tonight he has a handful of her long hair, his metal arm bracing against the bed, pulling back enough that it can't be too comfortable to her scalp but he's trying also not to hurt her. She could probably pitch him and the bed out the window without a second thought if she wanted to but that's not the point. Decades of hurting people and he's had enough of that.

"You good?" Bucky checks up on Wanda as he glances down at her arching back.

( image linking preferred. re: ships - everything under the sun, tbh. )

i wait and ache
i think i am healing

1, 2, 3, 4,

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[Link images. No crosscanon deities (otherwise crosscanon welcome). No castmates for m/m. No minors (21+)]

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[There would never be a part of him that didn't shiver in anticipation of trying to figure out what Chloe Decker would do in reaction to any given thing he did. She was so unlike the humans he was used to dealing with, it was the unpredictability alone that almost made it worthwhile.

Then there was how lovely she looked in a matching set of lingerie... One couldn't forget the little things, after all.

Which is why he'd sent her a set via courier at the station. Singing telegram that had a verse or two about perfect breasts and an adorable ass. He was currently in his suite, waiting to see if he'd get a phone call or a visit.]

[Her first reaction? Pure fury when she opened the package given to her when she entered the police station only to find a pair of very red and lacy lingerie. Followed in short, but sweet succession by embarrassment when the singing telegram sang about her ass and more specifically, her breasts. Luckily she could laugh and pretend to write it off as a joke as other police officers laughed alongside her and asked if there was a special occasion. It wasn't her birthday and she was divorced so it couldn't be her anniversary, but she laughingly joked that it was close enough to April Fool's day.

If Lucifer got off on how unpredictable Chloe was, she was equally both vexed and strangely aroused by his own actions. It was like the man had never been turned down point blank before. Luckily for him, Chloe had learned to more than just roll with his spontaneous nature, nothing made her burn hotter]

Word of advice? Don't send a singing telegram to my station. Ever. And where did you even manage to find a service like that in this day and age? I thought that went out of style in the fifties..."

[Yet, there she was. Wearing the very same matching set of lingerie he had sent to the station. Draping herself sensually against the doorway to his suite. Neither in the room, nor quite out. Something that suited the eternal conundrum that happened to be Chloe Decker]

Edited 2016-05-23 03:28 (UTC)

There's all sorts of services one can find if one looks hard enough. Did you know they still have milkmen? Bottle delivery and all. Rather charming, really.

[His attention was on the body that was in and not in his suite, flicking over the length of leg and the flash of red that broke up the lean form, giving her a small hum of satisfaction and a nod of approval.]

I do like red on you.

[She felt his eyes on her and she could almost swear to the trail of goosebumps his gaze alone left on her skin. Not that she'd ever admit to having such an intimate reaction when he hadn't even touched her yet]

Don't send lingerie to the station either.

[She took a few steps, finally entering his suite and taking care to shut the door behind her before moving closer still to him. A hand a the edge of his desk chair managed to push it out enough for her to brace her opposite hand on his hip as she moved to slowly kneel in front of him. By now he had gone down on her quite a few times, often until she was barely left coherent enough to form a sentence. It was only now that she realized she wanted to return the favor]

Would you rather I sent edible toys? I'm sure I could arrange for a chocolate phallus. Which I would very much enjoy watching you eat.

[He grinned, completely unrepentant about any irritation she might be feeling. He'd been playful. Mischievous. And that mood hadn't abated. He liked the thought of her getting riled up over him, no matter the reason behind it. He liked it better when it caused her to show up at his place half-dressed.

That look in her eye wasn't doing a thing towards getting him to compose himself, and by the time she knelt before him, he was half hard and feeling that spike in his pulse that he got when thoughts of getting her naked started to intrude.]

I didn't picture you as the subservient type.

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Edited 2016-05-23 07:03 (UTC)

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Trust was never easy. Trust had to be earned. Even if it was the attraction that came first, trust had to still be earned. Attraction with limitations could be stifling for two people that struggled daily with who they were, and being able to express their true selves. There was only so many times a person could say 'no' or 'not yet' when there was a more primal part that screamed 'yes' and 'right now'.

The trust eventually came. Maybe it was the ongoing competition to save each other's lives. The competition drew even and they were finally allowed on missions without a chapperone. And maybe there was also the fact that they didn't need to wear masks when they were alone with each other. They could be as argumentative, or silent, or companionable as they wanted. They could scream at each other in just about any language without thinking, or just as easily discuss the deeper meaning of a Disney movie.

Right now Steve had trusted them with a mission to Alaska to follow up on some leads, but they had a brief moment of downtime before they needed to head out again. Natasha didn't say a word as she took Barnes' flesh hand, leading him to the bathroom where she turned on the shower and then stripped off for him. The corner of her mouth lifted just a little and she pulled his shirt free from his belt and waistband with the clear intention of getting him naked as well.

If trust was hard normally, for Bucky, it was like climbing Mount Everest with no equipment. Normal trust was about getting other people to trust you. For Bucky, it was getting everyone else to trust him while simultaneously giving trust back to himself. It was easier to earn other people's trust than his own. Even now, he questioned himself. Was his motivation ever really his?

Maybe the one person who understood--and who didn't immediately provoke the "I swear to god I'll punch him" response--was Natasha. She'd been the KGB's, once.

How did you ever trust yourself after knowing how easy it had been for someone else to slither into your mind and take away your autonomy? How easy it had been to make you a puppet?

And yet here he was, acting under his own power. On a mission in Alaska. Of course they send him somewhere cold. Yeah, no, that's fine. At least he had Natasha with him. She was easy in that way where he felt comfortable with her, and he didn't have to pretend to be Bucky Barnes From 1939 or Killer Soviet Soldier or I'm Sorry About What I Did When Russia Owned Me. He didn't have a name for what he was with Natasha, and that was as scary as it was relieving.

They'd hit a bump of downtime, a nice little quiet spot between altercations, when she took his flesh hand and brought him to the bathroom. He barely had time to register that she was naked and--Jesus Christ did her breasts look even better than the suit advertised.

He smiled, helping her with hauling his shirt off. Firmly refusing to be shy of his scars--after all, he'd given her one himself--he tossed it in a corner and started on his pants.

"Doing a little clean-up, huh?" He took her in from head to toe, every last inch of her, and decided he very much wanted to touch her. But he hadn't initiated. She had. He'd let her call the shots.

Two scars. Natasha had two scars because of him, although the one near her collarbone wasn't quite as prominent as the one that prevented her from wearing a bikini. Her smile grew under his gaze, more than a little enjoying the attention that her nudity clearly encouraged. Her fingertips softly danced over his chest and sides as she took in all of his scars. They really were nothing to be ashamed of, marking years of battle and survival. She had no doubt that his mind carried the most scars, but they were going to take longer to heal.

Her fingers slid down his metal arm, and she covered his hand with her own before she took over the undoing of his belt and fly. Natasha moved in closer and rose up on tip-toes to kiss the corner of his mouth as she pushed his pants down over his hips.

"Just a little. Thought we could both use it." The pants were pooled at his feet and it was Natasha's turn to drink in the sight of a naked Bucky. There was the slightest flush that crept into her cheeks and she arched an eyebrow as she made a 'hm' of approval when her eyes flicked to his manhood.

And then she stepped into the shower and crooked a finger for him to follow before her head was under the spray and her hands were moving over his curves to draw his attention to her body once more. She may have initiated but that really didn't mean she wasn't going to let him touch. A shower would encourage all kinds of touching and that was just what she wanted.

"You're not wrong," he said. His voice sounded husky to his own ears, but maybe it was disassociation. Sometimes, he forgot what it sounded like. He'd gone years without really speaking and when he did... it wasn't for his own benefit. It was responsive. Mission status. Orders received. Confirmations. They were mechanical, robotic; they'd never sounded like his voice.

Her voice, though. If his was husky now, hers was husky always, and it was a quality that drew him towards her. Not the only quality, but one of many. Her voice held a warmth and that was the thing he sought more than anything else now. Warmth.

The shower was as warm as her voice and it made him shudder with anticipation. His legs felt suddenly weak, and he put his hand on the wall behind her head to staeady himself.

"I forgot..." He trailed off. He'd forgotten a lot of things. What it felt like to be touched this way, what it felt like to want to touch someone, what it was to want at all. What it was to have the freedom to choose. What it was to be human. Natasha brought it back in a rush, choice and freedom flooding through him.

He put his lips against her neck, kissing over her pulse point and moving lower by centimeters. His mouth went slow, although other parts of his anatomy were begging for attention in their own way. That could wait--he wanted to taste her, first.

Natasha's hands moved over his sides, touching the bare skin as he moved closer to her. She was happy to move at whatever pace he needed. She knew it was a gamble, not entirely sure that Bucky was ready but she was relieved to find out he was. One hand moved up his chest, tracing the muscles before it settled against the back of his neck.

She smiled a little as he started and stopped, but as his mouth made contact with her throat she couldn't help but shudder. The heat from the shower and her arousal had her fair skin becoming flushed and she pushed her fingers up into his hair in encouragement.

"James..." It still didn't seem right to her to call him Bucky. Bucky was Steve's best friend, but he wasn't necessarily the man that came back from the brainwashing.

[Link images. Haven't seen CW, but idc about spoilers. Prefer Steves/AU!Wifeless Clints for castmates. No minors (21+)]

( one, two, three, four, five )

[one, two, three, four, five]

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Dinner and drinks with Rogue had been pretty fun, not that Johnny expected anything less. They both had stories and experiences that they could share and talk about. The food was superb and the drinks just as good. The entire atmosphere was excellent. So he honestly wasn’t surprised that things ended up this way. He invited her back to his place, not wanting to end their evening just yet. Neither drove, so they had walked back. Unfortunately, a rainstorm had left them both drenched, though mostly Rogue.

An offer to let her use his shower was made and things sort of..went from there. Both of them were in the shower, arms wrapped around each other, lips pressed together in a heated kiss as the water rained down on them. This might not have initially been how he thought the night would go, but he’s not at all upset about it.

While the thought might have crossed her mind time and again, as Johnny was a good looking guy, Rogue hadn't planned for the evening to take this turn either. Not that she was complaining. If anything, it was just the opposite.

Her skin was wet and slippery, but so was his, and if anything, it added a further thrill to it all. Despite having just had supper, there was a hungry nature to her kiss, and damn, she could get lost in his kisses. Leaning forward to give a soft nip on his lower lip, Rogue gave that gentle tug, although the way her nails worked up his spine was a bit less than gentle. She reveled in the way their flesh met, water trickling down their skin, the supple motions as her hips ground forward against him, making her give a light purr of happiness.

[ota]

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Edited (let's try that again, thanks computer) 2016-05-22 14:25 (UTC)

[ She comes back to the room jealous. Yes, yes, she knows it's part of the mission, part of the assignment, she knows. She's meant to play the cuckquean woman who is "unaware" of her husband's wander eye, their mark is a fabulously wealthy and beautiful woman who likes to collect married lovers. And let's be honest, Napoleon was far too suave to play the doting, feckless husband (it's why Gaby likes Illya, he lacks Solo's many pretenses).

After a night of watching Illya being flirted with, she feels herself burning. She charges into their room, pouring herself a stiff drink as he trails after her, probably confused by this tiny, angry woman. Downing the glass, she turns towards him, commanding him in a voice that allows for no protest or questions (and yet, she full expects both).] Take off your clothes.

He wasn't entirely surprised by the order, or, for that matter, by the anger even as towering as it was. He was used to her emotions running high and had once said that it was because she didn't have the normal amount of space to contain them.

Which had gotten him slapped at the time, and he had been expecting that one, but it had burned her anger out that much more quickly so they could get on with things, and he hadn't said anything of the sort since.

So while the order wasn't entirely a surprise, it was still a little puzzling, which was why, after hanging up his jacket and processing that yes, she had actually just said what he thought she'd said, he asked: "Pardon?"

"Pardon" she mimics him sarcastically with a perfect Russian accent, with heat in her voice. She wants to get her way, she wants to somehow stake her claim on him. Her reaction is terribly uncouth and bordering ridiculous and yet, the urge is there regardless of rationality.

"You heard me, Kuryakin. Take off your clothes. They reek of her perfume." And she means to change that. She moves to pull off her bracelets, slapping them down on the dresser nearby. "Take off your clothes."

That was actually a damned good reason and he couldn't even argue it, so he didn't. Though he did go about undressing in the most methodical manner possible, stepping out of his shoes first, untucking his shirt before stepping out of his slacks, leaving them over the back of the chair before dealing with cufflinks and then shirt buttons.

He kept half an eye on her as he went, not sure entirely how long this temper was going to last or, for that matter, exactly what was causing it, but as soon as he worked out one of the two he'd figure out how to handle the other.

Of course, he took his sweet time undress. It only served to frustrate her more, although it somehow, at the same time, it made her anger simmer, gave her a chance to cool down some. Her gaze was both frustrated and hungry, her eyes tracked his movements for a bit longer before she moved towards him.

"Tell me it is just part of the mission."

And that just confused him further, brow creasing, blinking twice at her, "What part? Letting that woman paw over me like fresh fruit at a market? Yes. Only part of the mission." And so far really the only part he really objected to, but he also knew it would be easier to believe he'd been won over by her wiles than Solo, who would seem like that's where he'd wanted to be the whole time.

"And you aren't attracted to her." As soon as she said it, she felt foolish, childish. She'd never really let her jealousy bleed through this much, she'd never really let it boil to the surface until now. And perhaps that was because she was usually the taken woman being seduced and he was cuckhold. How did he manage it so gracefully? Perhaps it was because she was new to this whole spy business.

Little did she know know that he probably didn't manage it as well as she thought he did.

He really didn't, and while there had only rarely been property damage to show for it, he had, on more than one occasion, gone to start a bar fight just to settle himself.

That wasn't her style, though, at least as far as he knew, and the answer to that statement was an easy one, "No, I'm not." It wasn't even a lie, either, even if ruining marriages hadn't been her favorite hobby, she still wasn't his type, not by a long shot. Which was one of the other reasons he would be more believable in the role than Napoleon would have been.

His words were a balm on a wound she'd inflicted upon herself, although it didn't settle the twist in her heart nor did it calm the way it raced as she looked at him now. Jealousy still echoed within her even if she believed his words, she closed the distance between them, looking up at him as she pulled at the zipper at the front of her dress, tugging it down a few inches. "Prove it." It was less of a command than anything else she'd said, less of a command and more of a plea.

He was at least a little bit more able to navigate the situation at that point, and he even smiled, just a little, one hand settled lightly at her shoulder and the collar of the dress to hold it steady as he finished tugging that zipper the rest of the way down, the placement meant to keep the fabric taut and reduce the chance of snagging as he did so.

He even let his thumb stray briefly, brushing against the pulse point at the nape of her neck as he asked: "What proof would you like?"

Her eyes fluttered some when she felt his fingers brush against her skin, although she didn't let herself lose all focus. Her gaze returned to his, her dress open at the front now that it was completely unzipped. "Finish undressing me." It wasn't the only way he can prove it but she would give him instructions as he went along.

There was a little twitch of a smile at that, there and gone just as quickly, nodding once as he skimmed his hands over her shoulders to slide the dress off, just following it down so as not to let it drop to the floor all at once. Though, once it was pooled around her ankles, he slid one hand up the back of her calf with a quiet: "Step out."

A thrill runs up her spine and she barely managed to suppress a shiver as he followed the line of her body down, pulling at the dress. She did as he bade her to do, stepping out of the fabric that caged her feet, leaving her in only her slip.

He hummed softly at that shiver, half-curious, half-amused, but mostly just warm and quiet and pensive. He stayed where he was, on one knee, reaching up to lay the dress across the foot of the bed, it could be moved later.

He tilted his head, arching a brow up at her, "Anything else?"

Her hands moved to his shoulders, her eyes meeting with his, lips pressed together as she caught sight of his almost-defiant expression. "Kiss--" She snapped her fingers as she pointed at her foot. "Then show me. Show me you want me more."

His brow arched a little higher, because that wasn't what he'd been expecting, not even a little, but he certainly wasn't going to argue it, either, instead he was just going to slide backwards a little, the movement not as awkward as it could have been, one hand still resting against the back of her calf, sliding down to her ankle to extend that leg so that he could actually bend to kiss the top of her foot without having to fold himself in half.

That done, he pressed another kiss to her ankle, and then the middle of her calf and again to the bend of her knee, keeping that leg supported as he did so, stopping to blink up at her again once he'd left one last kiss just above her kneecap, settling back on his haunches, looking up at her expectantly.

It was a thrill, to be quite honest, to watch him move as she commanded, to have him do whatever she said without him scoffing or giving her a defiant look beyond arching his eyebrow. There was no commentary, not that he was the most verbose person, but he did as she told him to.

Her skin tingled where his lips touched, her hands moving back to balance on the dresser behind her. And when he looked up at her for further direction, her hand moved to hitch her slip up a little more. "I am hardly convinced."

Mostly he was just curious to see where this was going, and that reply had his smile twitching into place again, rolling up onto his knees -mostly just to gauge the distance- before closing both hands around her waist and just picking her up to sit her on top of the dresser, hiking her slip up around her hips as he did so.

He made another quiet sound then, something almost smug and entirely self-satisfied, finding that she was, in fact, right at the perfect height. He shifted himself closer then, nudging one shoulder up under her knee so that he could turn to press a string of kisses to the inside of her thigh.

It was times like these that she was reminded of just how strong he was, how different their sizes were, how easily he could crush her like glass (not that he would). He lifted her as if she weighed little more than a feather, his hands fitting at her waist in a way that made her want to moan.

And yet, it was when he shouldered his way between her legs, one draping over his back, that she made a sound, one pulled from her the moment his mouth made contact with the skin of her inner thigh.

Gasping softly, her hands moved to brace on the dresser for balance, for now, watching him with dark eyes.

The next sound that escaped him was dangerously close to a purr, because that quiet gasp was everything he'd been hoping for, and the fact that she was already bracing herself was even better.

One hand slid up along the outside of her thigh and then paused at the edge of her panties, fingers slipping just under the edge of the elastic at her hip, clicking his tongue softly, almost disappointed before murmuring: "These are going to have to go."

His taunting only made her feel more impatient, more hungry. Her fingers curled against the fine wood beneath her, her eyes closing for a moment. "Tear them," she commanded quietly, knowing that they would tear easily. They may be more expensive than most of anything she owned before she started all of this but they were flimsy and French, delicate and lacy. "Now."

His brow arched again, just a little surprised by that, but he wasn't going to argue and he wasn't going to ask if she was sure, no he was just going to smile, something bordering on predatory, even feral.

His fingers slid from hip to waist, curling against the fabric, tugging sharply at the right angle so that her opposite hip and her waist -as opposed to any more tender parts- took the brunt of the momentary pressure. He was unsurprised at how easily the fabric gave way, not that it was ill-made, quite the opposite, it was just that there wasn't a lot to it, as it had been mainly designed as decoration and not much else.

There was that near-purr again once he let the scrap of fabric drop, leaning in so that he could press a kiss to the warm flat of her belly, below her navel and above the peak of her mound.

It probably shouldn't, but the way he looks at her, that wicked smile, it lights a fire inside of her. It makes her feel squirmy and even more impatient. For what? She isn't sure. She only knows she wants more, more of him and more of everything.

He did as she asked of him, his fingers easily tearing the lacy fabric away from her body. "Yes," she gasped out, unable to stop the word from spilling out in her excitement. Solo would be unhappy, undoubtedly but she was hardly thinking of him with Illya's head between her legs, his lips at her skin, too high but not unwelcome.

Her hand moved to his hair, fingers tangling into his hair to try and encourage his mouth lower, tugging a little, both playful and demanding. "No more games," she muttered in Russian, the language she was still learning (a tribute to her affection for him).

Stumbling though the demand was, it had Illya's smile going softer, more fond, though given as how he'd turned his head to bury his face against the inside of her thigh again, nipping there just once, she likely hadn't seen the expression.

He certainly didn't mind the hand in his hair, though he might have raised an objection if it were anyone else trying to steer him that way. Where normally he might have chided her for being impatient, right at the moment it was far more of a turn-on than he would have suspected, which was why he shifted himself closer once more, one hand splaying flat against the small of her back while the other braced himself against the front of the dresser, finally tasting her, one broad swipe of his tongue upwards along her folds, avoiding direct contact with her clit on the first swipe, and even the second, but dragging the tip of his tongue across it with the third.

Had Gaby seen that fond, affectionate smile of his, things may have progressed differently, she would have thrown out this farce of her commanding his every move and just made love to him. But his face had been buried and her eyes had been closed. And her impatience continued to reign supreme.

She'd expected him to chide her, she expected a cheeky remark or something smug to be said, but he surprised her by saying absolutely nothing by simply moving to press his face between her thighs and brace her at his mouth. A few fluttering sighs escaped her as his tongue swept over the warm, slick skin of her folds, however it was when his tongue slipped across that bundle of nerves that she moaned. Her fingers curled encouragingly against his scalp, her eyes falling shut once again as her head fell back.

Either the moan or the tightening of her fingers in his hair would have been enough of an indication that he was on the right track, but both had another lowthroated sound simmering out of him, that same not-quite purr, not-quite growl that it had been before.

He tilted his head forward a little, finding that he didn't mind the way it caused her grasp of his hair to turn into a pull, tension prickling along his scalp. He was more focused on what he was doing, just sealing his mouth over the peak of her mound, tongue settling into a steady back and forth sweep over her clit, apparently intent on just driving her mad as slowly as possible.

The sound he made, the primal, guttural sound seemed to vibrate right through her, making her moan once again. Gaby was nothing if not responsive, easily coaxed into many things whether it be frustration or in this instance, pleasure.

It took a little time before she was panting, but soon enough, as he teased her with a slow but delicious pace of his tongue and lips, it happened. And finally, his name fell from her lips, her accent thickened by desire, by want.

Sitting on the dresser made it impossible for her to rock into his mouth, perhaps luckily for his concentration and nose, but it was maddening, being forced to let him set the pace, a soft whimper escaping her despite an attempt to clench her teeth and keep that sound in.

He hummed again at that whimper, sounding almost inquisitive even as he slid his hand down the outside of her thigh, trailing the edges of blunted nails along her flank.

He did release the hold his mouth had on her, if only to more fully catch his breath, but he set to work again almost immediately, licking along her opening with those same broad strokes for a moment before he turned his head to grin against the inside of her thigh, nipping just once before straightening a little.

He glanced up at her, head tilted just slightly as he finally slipped two fingers into her, humming contentedly at the slick heat of her and just pumping them into her briefly before his head dipped to settle into lapping at her clit again, firmer, quicker strokes with just the tip of his tongue.

She was on sensory overload and it was only about to get more worse, more intense. The moment he drew away, she made a sound of protest, about to pull his mouth right back to where it was, only to realize that the man just needed to get a gulp of air.

However, the sound returned when he did pull away from her center and his teeth nipped at her inner thigh, taking the heat (and some friction) away from where she needed it most. Again, her protest is all for naught because a moment later his fingers pressed inside of her, his tongue moved to press against the most sensitive part of her and she moaned loudly, without restraint.

Her fingers tightened in his hair now but only because she was gasping, her body arching forward, over top of his as she gasped out his name and a few curses in mixed German/Russian.

The fact that he'd reduced her to swearing, not just in her own mother-tongue but in his own as well, was something that made him more than just a little smug. He didn't, however, let that distract him from what he was doing.

Honestly he wasn't going to let up again until she pushed him off. He made another lowthroated, hungry little sound as he continued working his fingers into her, curling now and then on every third or fourth stroke, finally sealing his mouth over the peak of her mound once more, tongue still flicking against and over her clit in a relentless, steady rhythm.

He was ruthless and efficient in his efforts to make her come undone; he touched her in every way that could make her squirm atop the dresser. And she could do little more than hang on and enjoy the ride. He found a rhythm that drove her mad, that pushed her to the edge of pleasure, keeping her there so long that the ache was almost painful in its intensity.

She gasped and moaned, panted out soft German curses, demanded he never stop in Russian. Just a little more seemed to be the words that echoed through her until finally, finally, she didn't need anymore. Her body tensed against his, fighting her legs instinct to press together and keep his head trapped between her thighs. No, she gasped out his name as her fingers curled against his scalp, her hips bucked once into his mouth and her head fell back with a long, drawn out (and yet still dainty) sound of ecstasy as she came.

He wouldn't have minded the thigh-hold on his head, really, though it would have made it a little difficult to continue what he was doing.

The hand that wasn't otherwise occupied -still thrusting those two fingers into her, albeit more slowly once she'd crested- resumed stroking along her flank, slowly down and back. Even the movement of his tongue gentled once she'd reached her peak, going back to the slow, broader strokes against and over her clit, intent on prolonging that pleasure as long as possible, it seemed.

Her toes curled against his back as he coaxed her orgasm to last longer, doing all he could to extend her pleasure. Her body trembles with the aftershocks, her fingers moving to curl in his hair as she made a few soft sounds, ones that might sound like protest, a sort of whine as he wrung out every ounce of pleasure he could.

Yes, this was exactly what she wanted from him, even if she didn't want it to be over, she wasn't done. "I want you," she murmured in her broken Russian, breathless and wild. She didn't care how sensitive her body felt, she wanted to chase this feeling, to feel him inside of her as she came again.

Well that was definitely not something he was going to deny her, not given the fact that he was fully hard and had been for a while. He smiled against her again, giving one last, firm lick before he rolled to his feet, withdrawing his fingers from her so that he could catch hold of her hips again, tugging her that much closer to the edge of the dresser.

He didn't bother to ask if she was ready, he knew she wouldn't have made the demand if she wasn't. That was one of the things he'd learned about her early on: when she demanded something she meant right then, and so, once he knew she was stable, mostly by way of his hand at her hip and the other one braced against the wall behind her, he rolled forward, filling her almost completely with just that first push.

Complete and utter and smug contentment she got from him obeying her orders, immediately, could not be measured in anything other than a loud moan in that moment. His body moved with an easy grace, one that she matched, scrambling forward on the dresser, gripping the edges of the desk for a moment as he thrust into her, their hips rolling into each other as he filled her almost to the hilt.

A German curse fell from her lips then as she didn't give any care to keeping her language clean when he felt so unbelievably good inside of her. Her body felt overly sensitive, still pulsating from her climax that it almost hurt but oh, the pain was a good one. One that had her panting and desperate for more. For now, she was content to let him be in control but as he knew, her moods could change like the wind. For now, she wanted to feel just how much he wanted her, wanted--"No holding back. Show me."

The fact that she swore probably more than he did was one of the things he liked about her, and he couldn't help the smile at that rough-edged curse, and the demand just sent the smile spreading further, all teeth and nearly-feral, just making another one of those low sounds in his throat, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest.

His fingers tightened against her hip, pinning her in place as he withdrew, just a little before rocking forward again, burying a groan in her hair as he sunk fully into her, giving his hips a little jolting movement once he'd done so, both to rub against her already tender clit but also to prove that he had no further he could go.

Perhaps that smile may terrify a lesser person but it only served to make Gaby hungrier, more eager for him, for that that smile could mean and the promise of what was to come. He pressed forward, his grip feeling bruising in the best way, making her gasp, the sound thrilled and loud.

Her hands moved from the edges of the dress to grip at his arms. "Da," she panted out, sounding like a woman possessed, one hand moving to grip his chin to draw his mouth to hers for a kiss, as rough and feral as his smile. "More."

Edited 2016-05-30 23:54 (UTC)

He replied to that kiss in kind, even as his hips settled into shallow little jolting movements, already fully-seated in her, just rocking against her to feel her clench against him each time.

He caught her lower lip lightly between his teeth as he finally withdrew again, slowly, smoothly, hesitating just briefly when it was just the head of his shaft held by her lips before he rode forward again with a movement solid enough to rock the dresser under her, nearly growling again only to repeat the movement a moment later, the slow withdrawal and the sudden, firm press forward.

For one cruel moment, she thought he might withdrawal from her completely but before she could even think to muster a whimper of protest, he pounded back into her, sending her body and the dresser beneath it trembling, her pert breasts bouncing with the force of it.

A moan escaped her lips, half formed because he did it again, forcing a gasp of delight from her, the sound utterly obscene in it's pitch and volume. If the room weren't a suite, she'd feel for their neighbors, what with the way the dresser slammed against the wall with each movement, the painting on wall above it quivering in protest.

As good as it felt, as thrilling as the sound of his thighs slapping violently against her own, her hands combed through his hair restlessly, her lips curved against his, "Again."

He had both hands braced against the wall behind her at that point, withdrawing just as far as the loop of her legs would allow before slamming forward again, and again, rattling dresser and picture frame each time.

He shifted his stance just a little, stabilizing himself so that he could keep up that same pace, chances were good he'd be able to keep it up almost indefinitely, he was, on occasion, a machine and this was definitely one of those times. The more stable stance also made it so that he could drop one of the hands he'd been bracing himself with, settling it between them, taking just a moment until he could position the knuckles of his first two fingers to either side of her clit, rocking against it with each thrust, apparently intent on wringing another orgasm out of her.

Oh, when he touched her like that, she let out an embarrassingly feminine whimper, her eyes fluttering and her mouth tearing from his as her head fell backward. For a moment, she was too caught up in the friction, the thrusting, the bounce of their bodies, his fingers. For moment, she couldn't formulate a coherent thought beyond yes, Illya, yes as he did as she commanded, over and over and over.

She felt herself climbing towards that peak and every sound that fell from her mouth made that clear. But she didn't want it to end that soon, not that she questioned his stamina, of course. But she wanted to continue to command control, now that she had a taste of power.

So with a quick movement, she arched upward, moving to clutch at his neck, her body colliding with his and pressing flush just as he thrust into her. Arching again, she looked at him with a fire. "On your back." On the bed, on the floor, she didn't care. She wanted on top and she wanted to make him come with her.

Her sudden movement was enough to get a half-surprised curse out of him in turn, though it was followed by that hungry grin once more, arm looping reflexively around her waist, hand under her ass to just lift her from the dresser as he took a step backwards, the movement did pull him out of her, but that was likely for the best for the time being.

It was only a step and a half back to the bed, still supporting her easily as he sat and then stretched out onto his back, the hand at her ass sliding up her spine to draw her with him as he did so with a quiet rumble of: "As you wish" in German. She wasn't the only one dabbling in another language, it seemed.

As much as she might have mourned the loss of him inside of her, she wasn't all that upset given that he did as she asked, holding her close and moving them backward towards the bed. She was grateful he chose it the moment laid back and her knees hit the mattress. Her hands moved to his chest, her body moved to better straddle his as he pulled her down.

And just as she was going to reach for him, to align their bodies once more, he murmured those three words in her native tongue. Suddenly, it was more than just lust that drove her, that made her heart race. Her eyes met with his and she let out a soft, astonished laugh, caught off guard. "Very good," she said in the tongue they both spoke, the tone perhaps too adoring for someone meant to be his partner only. She moved move to kiss him once, ignoring the bloom of something deeper within her, the very thing that had driven her to jealousy in the first place. "Very, very good."

Her hands reached for his, moving them to her thighs so they wouldn't hinder her from moving to sit up above him. As one hand moved to slide up his chest, the other reached between them to grip his cock, giving him a little squeeze. "Say: I want you." She repeated the last three words in German, breathlessly, impatient to have him inside of her again but eager to hear him say it.

The surprise was why he'd done it, and he was not disappointed in that. The praise was enough to have him smiling again, the slow-spreading, all-too-gentle smile that she was one of the few people who knew the existence of.

There was another rumble of amusement as she repositioned his hands, but he allowed it, kneading gently at her thighs once she'd placed them, both brows lifting a little at the new demand, suffice to say that was not a phrase he'd practiced, and practicing right then was probably not the best way to go about it, but he did have a good ear, and while the pronunciation wasn't perfect, it was at least closer than someone else in his position probably would have managed.

Illya was always quite good under pressure. And it seemed that this time was no different. No, it wasn't perfect. If he were in Germany, it would get him laughed at. But he wasn't anywhere else but beneath her and she was very pleased with his effort. "Good," she murmured with a impish smirk, rewarding him with taking him inside of her.

Her hips shifted, she lifted on her knees and sank down upon him fully with a hum. One hand moved to rest on his chest for balance, the other moved to grip his wrist as he held her thighs, using the leverage to start rocking almost immediately, barely taking a moment to savor the feel of him inside of her again. And her pace was slow for now, each time she came down, she gave her hips a heavy roll, grinding down upon him.

He hummed, low and pleased, eyes dipping partway closed as she sank down on him again, his fingers tightening against her thighs just briefly as she did so, though they relaxed again once she settled into that steady movement.

The reprieve -slight as it had been- hadn't lessened his desire at all, but had at least taken him back from the edge, and now, well now she was doing her level best to push him right back towards it, and he found that he didn't have any objections to that at all.

Now that she had the leverage she needed, now that his hands weren't in her way, she made no attempts to keep them from moving, although she liked the way they gripped her thighs as she sank down upon him. Soft sounds spilled from her lips with every movement, soft moans and gasps, pleased hums as her hips sped up their movements. While his thrusts had been slow and deep, she kept her movements short and fast, keeping him deep inside of her as she stroked his body with hers.

At least, they were for a moment before she moved her hand to slide up his chest, fingers curling gently around his neck, the other on his shoulder, leaning over for even better leverage. There was something arousing how little he spoke, she imagined that Solo was insufferably chatty during sex, there was something more primal about Illya in these moments, something that stoked the fires within her, red hot. Although that was what made those muttered words, all the more hot to her.

He kept one hand at her thigh while the other slid up along her side as she leaned forward again. He angled his head up a little at that hand on his throat, making another low sound, pleased, even a little amused.

His hips gave a little roll up against her even as he said: "Harder." He wasn't going to specify, leave it up to her to decide whether he meant the movement of her hips or the grip of her hand, maybe a little of both.

Her smile turned even more wicked when he threw a command at her, soft hum escaping her lips in affirmation. Her hand pressed forward, her fingers curled tighter, harder as she moved to rock above him harder, quicker. Her hips rolled above his, her body bounced a lot harder, her breasts sliding against his chest with the effort.

"Like that?"

It got another one of those lowthroated sounds from him at any rate, hips rolling up against her once more and letting his shoulders settle back, chin still uplifted to give her just that much more space, "Doch, perfect."

It wasn't the kind of thing he generally encouraged, but he trusted her more than he trusted most people, even most lovers, and he certainly didn't regret it.

No matter how carried away she might get, she wouldn't do a thing to truly hurt him, even if she could. And because's about double her size, he could easily overpower her if she did try. She moaned with him, her lips curving into a breathless smile that probably was settled on her face for a while now, their bodies rocking together, the friction making her sweat and pant.

Lean in, she moved to nip at his jaw before she leaned back some, keeping her hand at his throat as she started to ride him with the sole purpose of making him come and yeah, maybe she might be climbing that edge herself.

Now that, that was even better and he couldn't help but smile up at her, managing to rock his hips up against her in counterpoint to her movements, rolling against her every second or third time, enough that he was panting before long, pulse thudding away against her fingers.

Even still, already on the brink himself he had the presence of mind to slide the hand at her thigh higher, enough that he could bump against her clit with the pad of his thumb, not any real sort of rhythm or pattern, just for the contact, just trying to push her over once more, knowing that feeling her coming against him would be more than enough to send him over as well.

The man was certainly attentive. And she wasn't about to complain about that. Especially when his hand moved between her thighs a bit more to touch her, to rub against that bundle of nerves that would surely send her over the edge. And that didn't take too long, not with the way they were both moving against one another, his thumb and the way she felt moving on top of him, in control but at his mercy at the same time.

Gasping, her whole suddenly went tense, her fingers tightening at his throat as pleasure roared through her, crashing into every nerve and sense she had. The next sound that came from her lips was shuddering exhalation of his name, her hips rocking still as she road out her orgasm, trying to coax him into his with her own clenching, pulsating body.

Just watching that would have been enough to send him over, but actually feeling it was amazing. His hands settled at her hips again, holding her in place as he rocked up against her twice more and most of a third time before he was coming as well, head tilting back, arching into the hand at his throat.

His fingers curled against her hips as he arched beneath her his own climax unraveling down his spine sudden enough that he actually pulsed inside her, twice, shuddering beneath her as he slowly came down from that peak, one hand sliding up along her back to draw her close once more.

There was no fight in her any longer, the moment he reached up to draw her to him, she moved, her hand slipping from his neck after she was sure he was well and coming. Her hands fell on to either side of his chest, between his arms and sides. Panting softly, she tried her best to kiss him, although it was more of a breathless slide of her lips against his.

With a triumphant smile, she let her hips roll a few more times, the movement weak in her post-climatic haze, feeling victorious having made him come with her. Slumping, she moved to lay her cheek against his chest for a moment, just struggling to catch her breath.

"If this is the result, I think maybe I should make you jealous more often." He said once his own breathing had settled enough for him to find his voice again, amusement lacing through the statement, fingers tracing idle patterns against the back of her neck and up into her hair just scratching gently at her scalp now and again.

It was right about then that the picture above the dresser finally gave up the ghost, crashing down from the wall and leaving Illya laughing, muffling it against Gaby's shoulder.

"I cannot promise I will be so nice next time," she said back, giving him a feigned stern look before she lets out an amused breath, lifting her head to look at him. The painting comes crashing down and it earns both of their laughter, after she jumps a little. However, she laughs with him, her body shaking above his, with his. "I hope that wasn't a real Picasso."

He snorted in response, shaking his head, "No, it was not, even I could tell that much." They didn't need Solo and his forger's expertise to know something like that.

He tried -and failed- to bite back another smile as he added: "And I wouldn't blame you for being less nice. I would probably deserve it."

She moved to lift herself up onto her palms, giving him another look, one that was a mixture of amusement and a challenge. "And what would you do if I were to make you jealous."

He tilted his head a little, studying her, letting one arm fold behind his head while the other traced idle patterns along her arm, "First I would ask how you plan on doing such a thing."

He knew that people, other men in particular, tended to steer clear of her if he was in the vicinity and even looked like he might be with her.

"Oh, so do you not find me charming?" Her expression turned less amused for a moment, her eyebrows lifting in accusation. "Do you not think that other men do not find me alluring?" Of course, she knew he was quite good at intimidating people just by being there but she though she might be able to manage to convince more than one man to go away with her. "I believe you have forgotten about that Texas Oil Tycoon who offered to marry me."

"I haven't forgotten." He replied, "Though I seem to remember that he offered to marry you because he thought you were a steel magnate's daughter, recently orphaned, still in mourning."

Her cover hadn't been that in depth, but he'd kept making assumptions and it had been easier for her not to correct him.

"But no, I don't doubt you could charm someone, eventually." Truthfully he doubted it would take that long, because most of the reasons he found her charming were the same reasons other people did.

"Eventually," she scoffed at him. "Eventually." She said again, this time mocking his accent. "He wanted to marry me because he wanted to bed me. And because he found me charming. The inheritance was an added bonus to him."

"And also because I was not there to interrupt." He replied, along with another smile, one hand having slipped around to the small of her back, just kneading gently there, "So perhaps sooner than 'eventually' if I'm not there as an intimidation." He conceded, amusement still coloring his tone, taking some of the sting out of the statement as he hadn't meant there to be any there in the first place.

"You are hardly intimidating," she teased him, letting things slip back into levity for now, her ruffled feathers settling. "I quite enjoy you." She smirked, "I believe I just did a fine job of 'conquering' you."

He made a quiet sound of agreement at that, fingers running down and back along her spine as if petting a standoffish cat, "That you did, and I don't intimidate you because you know me."

Despite the fact that he'd only barely intimidated her when she didn't know him.

"I know you very well," she murmured, stretching a little like a cat above him, her lips brushing against his chest for a moment before she moved to sit up with a groan, with the intention of rolling off of him... eventually. For now, she enjoys the view of him beneath her, his hair wild, his cheeks a little ruddy. She can only imagine she looks even wilder, her skin still flushed, her perfectly pinned hair a mess, her lips kiss-swollen.

Honestly it was a look he very much liked on her, and his hands settled at her hips, just rubbing gentle circles there with his thumbs, humming briefly, "You do." He replied, smile emerging once more, as small as it usually was, but just as genuine, because that had been his point.

He wasn't intimidating to her because she no longer saw him as a threat.

She climbed that man like a tree and successfully made him unravel, it was hard to find him intimidating or threatening. That had to be clear with the way she smiled down at him, hesitating in her efforts to move off of him given that she liked the way he was rubbing circles into her skin. "I do."

"Well." He said, biting back a smile and only barely managing, the expression still lighting his eyes, "We agree on that, at least."

His hands smoothed down her thighs then, still just petting, he knew that he should let her up, eventually, but right at the moment he didn't particularly want to.

Her hand smoothed up his chest then, moving to slide along his neck and just under his jaw until her thumb could brush along the way he curved his lips. "And I do not intend on letting that woman seduce you."

He tilted his head just slightly towards the movement of her hand, brow creasing a little at the statement.

He made a thoughtful sound in his throat, turning his head to brush a kiss against the pad of her thumb, "You have no reason to worry about that krolik." 'Rabbit' wasn't a pet name he'd used for her before, but he felt it was fitting, because while she was small, she still packed one hell of a kick and wasn't afraid to use it.

"Good," she murmured, leaning down to press a slow kiss to his lips. Her hand stayed on his face a little longer before she moved to roll to the side, laying beside him on the bed with a contented sigh.

He chuckled warmly at that sigh, having hummed into the kiss, just relaxing back himself.

He knew they should probably get cleaned up, eventually, but right at the moment he didn't really want to move, all of his joints feeling pleasantly unlocked and loose.

She honestly had no inclination to move, herself. So instead, she just laid there, basking in the afterglow for a long moment. "I suppose it would be polite to offer you a drink..." But she didn't feel like it.

He chuckled, low and rolling, "I think we have bypassed 'polite' by now." He grumbled then, stretching languidly because the niggling feeling of needing a shower was just starting to grow, "Should probably clean up as well. Soon."

"I suppose so," she murmured with no small amount of amusement, moving to slowly sit up, bracing one hand on his stomach just because. "I am not quite certain I can feel my toes."

He chuckled softly at that, fingers tracing an idle loop against the back of her hand where it rested, "Well then I suppose I have done a good job."

"It was passable," she teased, glancing at him with a smug expression in her attempt to rile him up some. Even so, she finally moved to pull herself to edge of the bed with a soft groan of effort.

He cocked his head in what amounted to a shrug as he levered himself upright as well, one hand resting against the small of her back for a moment, just checking on her as much as anything, "In this case, I can settle for adequate."

After a moment, she relents with a smile. "It was more than adequate." And with that same smile on her face, she moves to stand, on wobbly legs.

He kept his hand against the small of her back as support while she moved, ready to catch her if necessary, though not about to say so aloud, because he was willing to let her keep her pride intact.

"Come, I'll draw you a bath." And he'd shower in the smaller en suite, just so they could both get clean at once without terribly distracting each other.

She wasn't so wobbly that she'd fall over. It was more satisfaction making her whole body feeling pleasantly tingly and worn out. "How chivalrous of you..."

"Your current state is my doing." He replied, "Should be my responsibility to make sure you're properly tended, yes?" That just made sense to him, though he knew, of course that her current state was as much her doing as it was his, she'd been the one to initiate things after all.

"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself," she said with a bit of a smug expression, although she meant it. She didn't need taking care of, she simply wanted it. She moved towards the bathroom, on her own. "But thank you." There. She said it.

"You are." He agreed with a nod, motioning for her to sit on the dressing bench across from the sink, "I would be the last person to say that you aren't." He added, going about running the bath just like he'd said he was going to.

She gave him a look that was both impressed and amused. He was humoring her by saying all the right things, although she supposed she believed that he believed it himself. She humored him by moving to sit on the bench as he wanted. "Good."

The thing with saying the right things, was that in this case the right things were also the true things, which was why he was saying them. Not that he didn't lie if the situation required, but he preferred not to lie to his allies.

Or his friends. Or whatever the two of them were to each other now, and even he wasn't quite sure what to label it.

"Foam or bath oil?" He asked, jostling both bottles gently, offering both.

"I think just a quick rinse.... since you seem not to be joining me," she says it more of a question, to see what his answer is.

(please link images. ota, but fluffy and grossly vanilla only for m/f atm!)

[ 1 2 3 if eli is ok! ]

[One thing Mika will never quite get used to is the way that his stomach suddenly feels like it's competing for a star role in whatever catastrophe the theatre club might cook up next whenever he's within a few feet of one Eli Ayase. Stage fright isn't something new to him -- he remembers with clarity how nervous he'd been before Valkyrie's first show, back when they were still powerful and a force to be reckoned with and Shu demanded nothing less than absolute perfection even from a hopeless defect like him -- but the fluttering in his belly, whenever she's around... It's different, and he's thinking it might have a lot to do, as well, with why all he wants to do when they are together is hold her hand and hang off her every word.

So, he's a bit of a hopeless dork when it comes to the whole relationship business. He's over the moon with the time they get to walk at each other's sides after classes alone. Now that they're sitting together behind the safe coverage of a sturdy tree in a barren park, Mika's fingers twined tightly with hers (maybe, just maybe, she won't let go even when she comes down to earth and realises that he isn't worth this sort of attention at all) and his blushing, thoroughly sheepish face looking anywhere but at the blonde...

Well. He's probably died, or he's dying now. Somewhere through the loud sound of his heart hammering away in his chest he's vaguely aware that he wants to be like this for a very long time, maybe blurt out some stupid comment about how she's really important to him, he doesn't know what he'd do without her, she's talented and beautiful and really, really smart and could totally have anyone she wanted so she should be doing something better than wasting time on an idiot like him--

Mika bites his lip, still not able to bring himself to look up to find Eli's eyes. He squeezes her hand just a bit tighter.]

You got... [And the smallest, fondest smile, somewhere down at the grass but completely out of focus.] You got really nice hands, Ayase-chan.

[... He's trying?]

[ Mika is cute the way rabbits are: shy and docile. He would brighten up whenever Eli arrived, sulk whenever she'd be gone for even a second... He's incredibly honest compared to everyone else she knows, and she'd be lying if she didn't find it even a little endearing. And he's a little weird, but who isn't? Even her best friend Nozomi has her own share of eclectic hobbies and tastes. Yes, Mika might have scared Eli with his collection of creepy-cute dolls and screamed to the high heavens at one point, but that doesn't mean she thinks of him any less!

Because there was once a time Eli thought him hopeless, too. Valkyrie had fallen, but watching how he remains steadfast everyday despite the hardships his unit has gone through made her wish she didn't give up her dream sooner. It made her want to work a little harder. She noticed the little things: the way he was more comfortable around her, the way he was less comfortable looking at her, the way he'd talk and talk until he forgot how nervous he was until she could see the colors in his eyes. Before she realized it, she had already fallen hard.

Eli's cheeks burn when he squeezes her hand, but it doesn't deter her from smiling right at him. She's new to this too, but maybe she should help him out? ]

But yours are warmer, Kagehira-kun. I think I'll miss them a lot when I visit family in Russia. Hands like yours would definitely be useful!

[ She looks down at their hands, fingers laced together. ]

Unlike mine. They're hopeless with a needle and thread. Even if I like making jewelry... It's pretty weird, now that I think about it.

[How is she always so sweet to him? It's a question he'll probably never stop asking himself, and never quite understand the answer to, if there ever is one. He gets by by doing his best; it's nothing compared to someone who's so naturally charismatic and skilled at everything she sets her mind to like her. Even the smallest compliment makes him laugh a bit sheepishly, shaking his head.]

Heh, nah, I still think you got me beat when it comes to bein' creative 'n' stuff. I know Mentor still has to fix up all my mistakes whenever I try an' lend him a hand.

[He'd feel bad about it any other time, but there's not exactly much of a chance to dwell on his own unimportant shortcomings when there's something far more important on his mind now. Eli's always so confident and straightforward and responsible -- it's what he admires most about her and thinks he probably always will, but it also means that he isn't the only one she needs to think about. It's always made him a bit uneasy, knowing that holidays and family visits mean that they'll be so far apart. At least his are only a few hours out of the way. With Eli, it's the daunting prospect of being separated by miles of ocean.

Once again, he squeezes her hand a little, this time at least daring to join Eli's own gaze in staring at their laced fingers, his own anxiously fidgeting.]

Hey, Ayase-chan... [He doesn't really want to bring it up, and it's obvious -- he's quiet, almost pensive, despite being Totally Determined not to hold back anymore of his anxieties.] When you go back to Russia, d'you think... I mean, I know we got each other's numbers, so no worries, but... You think we'll... still be able to talk like this? Jus' the two of us 'n' all.

[Like they're... important to each other, moreso than anyone else. Maybe he's being a bit presumptuous, assuming that Eli values his company as much as he does hers, but the thought of not being able to enjoy another quiet moment like this -- it scares him, just a little.]

[ Eli doesn't understand why he puts himself down so much. She strives for excellence, but it doesn't mean everyone has to be good at everything. But she supposes his clumsy and humble side is part of why she likes him so much. She's strict and responsible, but Mika always seems to look like he's having fun when she's with him. She wishes she could be as open as he was with his emotions—everything.

If they were to be several miles apart, she wonders how she could get by. She had been doing so well on her own, but thinking about Mika alone has her heart doing flips until it ached. ]

Of course we will. I won't deny that I'll miss you but, well... I'll always make time for you. Just the sound of your voice makes me feel happy.

[ No, that's not true. Not when she lifts their hands and squeezes his tighter. ]

But if you're so worried, shouldn't you make the most out of times like these? It's pretty romantic, isn't it? A couple sitting under a tree with no one around...

[ At that moment, she presses her lips to the back of his palm, nipping lightly at his skin. It's embarrassing to do when people are around, but if they're alone like this, she doesn't feel the need to hold back anymore. ]

...to tell them what to do.

[The kiss makes him start, enough that he can't stop himself from snapping his head around to actually, properly, face her for what feels like the first time since they'd sat down there, mismatched eyes widening an impossible amount. He makes himself look away just as quickly, clearing his throat to hide his obvious embarrassment -- if she can't hear the mantra of "act natural" going through his head, he'll consider it a miracle.]

Y-Yeah, yeah! It's like... [Natural...] We can do whatever we want out here without havin' to worry about anyone else...

[So -- so maybe he shouldn't be afraid of being a bit more open about how he feels, either. She's right; timing as nice as this is the sort of thing you need to take advantage of, just in case you're never lucky enough to have the chance again.

Mika swallows thickly, smiling inwardly. It takes a long, silent moment to get the words out of his mouth; a moment that he spends staring down again at the grass, at a few distant blooming flowers that are only half as beautiful as she is.]

... I... I like ya a whole bunch, Ayase-chan. So much it's like I'm gonna die if I don't get it out somehow. And -- I know I ain't the most talented or good-lookin' guy in the world, and I'll probably never be as good as you at bein' an idol or performin' or anything like that, but...

[He licks his lips, trying to ignore the way he can feel his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red with every second.]

If... If all that's okay with you, then... Since it's so romantic here, like y'said...

[God, words are always hard. How does he manage to make himself sound sillier and sillier every time he opens his mouth? Maybe it would be better if he just. Got right to the point, embarrassment be damned.]

Can I... hold ya a little closer? If that's not too weird...

[Save him.]

[ His feelings—heartfelt and unabashed words spilling out of his mouth—paint her cheeks a shade of red she didn't think possible. She blushed when u's praised her or Nozomi teased her, but listening to his awkward confession makes even her ears burn up. God, he's cute. Nevermind that he's awkward. Eli's into that. It doesn't matter.

So she tugs on his tie, locking his gaze on hers. His mismatched eyes make her pause and revel in their brilliance, quieting her voice, now soft and warm: ]

Hold me.

[ She meant to ask, but it comes out a command. Wait, is she going too fast? But he asked too, and she's so impatient. ]

I know it's not like you, but... I was waiting for you to say it. I've never thought about being in love before, but with you... I think I have.

[ Her hand thumbs his tie before sliding over his chest, where his heart is. Her lips barely brush against his as she speaks, breathing his air and imagining what he would do if he leaned in an inch more. ]

You're wrong, though. You're cuter than I am... Your demeanor, your pretty eyes and your shy smile; those make you the most good-looking boy in the world to me. But it doesn't matter if you are. Er, no, it matters, too... What I mean to say is, um.

[ She lowers her head, uncharacteristically shy herself as she works up a smile. ]

You're my idol, Kagehira-kun.

[ There. She didn't think she could one-up him in this, but at least they're both embarrassing now. She wants that hug. ]

Edited 2016-05-24 06:05 (UTC)

[Oh, she... Oh. She thinks his eyes are pretty. If that had been the only thing she'd said, he'd still be over the moon -- and just as embarrassed, because he knows that there's a reason she needed to say that, specifically. As much as he'd like to tell himself that she's just trying to make him feel less like everything about him was created wrong from the get go... Her words make him tingle just as much as the warmth of her hand in his had. It's not the first time someone's complimented them, but when has he ever felt so happy to hear it?

Doing just as she says, because there's no way he could ever deny something that's asked of him, command or not, Mika's hands come up to gently rest against the sides of Eli's shoulders, still half-covered by his oversized sleeves.]

God, yer really... Really damn cute, you know that?

[There's really no being eloquent when you're Mika Kagehira, let alone when you're Mika Kagehira with the girl you really like more than you ever thought you'd ever like anyone only a few centimeteres away, breaking out the 'l' word and making your heart more or less soar directly out of your chest. It would make him laugh if he didn't mean it so completely; he's rough around the edges and not all that good at finding the right words but god damn if he doesn't adore her to pieces.

Partly because he still can't quite look her in the eyes without feeling terribly self-conscious about it all and partly because it's so distracting that he really can't help but risk a glance, Mika lets his eyes fall down to where her lips are, so close to his that he can just about feel the warmth of her breath against his own. This must be what the people in movies mean when they say that their partners look really kissable.

God even knows what 'kissable' is supposed to look like, but he's starting to get a pretty good idea of what it might be.]

I, um. You can -- you can slap me or somethin' if I'm no good at this, okay?

[He means it only half as a joke, but it's a light enough preamble that it helps to soothe over his nerves as he draws a breath and finally, finally, closes the distance between their lips, his fingers gripping tightly onto the fabric of her sweater all the while. Everything about her is so soft and warm that it's almost too much to bear, his pulse hammering in his ears -- but he feels like he's wanted nothing more than this for the longest time already that even that scarcely matters.]

[ She squeaks. ] Cute? But I... [ am not cute. Apart from being told that she's beautiful and diligent, she doesn't know what would make her stand out from the rest of the girls. She's not very energetic like Honoka or charismatic like Nico. Was what she said cute? It was so embarrassing to admit... but if Mika likes it, maybe she'll let loose around him a little more. Just for him.

She closes her eyes as he leans in, and their first kiss gets her heart pounding. There were other places she imagined it would be: at the beach, at the top of a ferris wheel, or under the night sky. But with Mika, anywhere is fine too. Her hands grip his sweater as she hums and tugs on his lower lip, wanting to taste his candy a little longer. ]

Ehehe... You're the only one who could ever make me feel good.

[ That's one thing he's good at. So she continues, plush lips dotting him with kisses from his mouth to his jaw. Does this make him feel good? She's just applying what she's seen in dramas or read in books... Against his ear, she whispers. ]

Besides, you're the cute one.

[ota]

[f/f]

( castmates preferred. no underage characters, please. )

Sunday Smutty Sunday

Noiz | DRAMAtical Murder | OTA

caroline forbes » the vampire diaries

blue sargent ∞ the raven cycle

kenzi - lost girl

sharon carter - mcu

spoiler away my dear

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BUTTS

Thought you might like that

:3 i do

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wanda maximoff ☠ MCU ☠ OTA

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Sayako | G4E | F/F (or futa)

Bucky Barnes | MCU

turn about it's just fair no?

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if you're okay with this?

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rhys | tales from the borderlands | m/f

b. barnes ★ mcu ★ ota

o hello

HELLO MY DARLING PRECIOUS

ALSO STILL ME SHH

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Lucifer Morningstar | Lucifer | OTA

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4 and 2?

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Natasha Romanoff | MCU | F/M

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that quote is gold. 3+2 (+4)

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Natasha Romanoff | MCU | F/M

big boss / venom snake | mgsv | m/f