bakerstreet | the soul bond meme

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the soul bond meme

"I can't live without you...literally."

Wake up. Do what you have to. Work. School. Save the world. Avenge your father's death. Go back to sleep. Average day, for human, demon, sailor scout, angel, slayer, what have you. Though there's some part of you that wonders, in the back of your mind, if this is the day you'll meet your bond.

Because your world is just like ours - or how yours was, in another universe - but with one addition: the soul bond. The soul bond is a concept as old as time itself. People don't question the process, it just is. Some say that it comes from the beginning of time, where each soul was created in a pair, and throughout the lifetimes those souls are reborn into, they search for each other. This is the soul bond. Even if that's mostly faded into myth, it's generally excepted that there is only only one person for anyone. So, soulmates.

Not exactly. Soul bonds are more. They are about the joining of bodies: sexually and psychically. The bond isn't necessarily about love, though the close connection facilitates that emotion growing, and some fondness does appear in almost every case. It's bigger than love, bigger than hate, bigger than anything else; it's finding yourself in someone else, and your never wanting to lose that. Needless to say, the soul bond is the cornerstone of life and society. Marriage is reserved for the bonded, and you're expected to be searching for that other half. There's a good biological reason for that, too, as the unbonded cannot reproduce and those who have not found their bond are doomed to die extremely early in comparison to their peers and in a most painful, withering fashion. Who would want that?

In this world, sex is had with those who are not the other half of your bond, even if society considers that frivolous. For the truth is, sex with any other will never be as good as sex with your other half. When you make love to someone who isn't yours, you'll know it. It's a disappointment.

When you so much as see your bond for the first time, or at least for the first time after you've reached sexual maturity, you'll know, even if you're already "with" someone else. The signs are inescapable. You'll know it's them. You'll become hyper-focused on them, your heart will race, your muscles tighten, your brain shoot off every signal it nose...and you will become aroused beyond belief. Any arousal you've had prior pales in comparison. So go ahead, if you don't want a bond, ignore it. Try. It won't work. The more you ignore it, the more control you'll lose. Did I forget to mention? In this world, sexual drives are a little more animalistic than usual. They would have to be when the mainstay of the races is a sexual-based bond. Those who try to ward off the desire to become one with their other half can achieve mild success - until they absolutely lose themselves. It's not uncommon to see bonds going at it in the streets, unabashed and unashamed, for trying to hold off the inevitable. Sex between bonds in public, generally, is not looked down upon.

You've given in. Of course you did. But what now? The first time you have sex with your bond, it will be beyond compare. You will share memories with each other, as this is the opening of your psychic connection with them. Yes, psychic connection. How would you expect to be truly bonded otherwise? How strong this link is depends on how often you have sex. Even at baseline, though, you'll know if your bond is hurt or in trouble. Fair warning: this will pull at that animal brain, and you will go into a beserker mode to get them back with you. Similarly, you will behave in a territorial manner if you feel the bond is threatened; jealousy often results in shameless public sex, in hopes to re-establish the strength of your connection and make your bond realize that YOU'RE the other part of them, no one else. In addition, bonds don't handle separation well and each partner will be antsy and on edge. It can be done, and most pairs do because of work, duties, and life in general, but returns are usually accompanied by sometimes days-long sex sessions.

Aside from those quirks, the bonding process can be quite useful. A bond can calm you down, and sex with your bond can serve as the ultimate relaxer. Your bond is the one who can heal you, and sex boosts your strength and power. Yes, those of you looking to achieve your ultimate goal...or ultimate form. Being a bond makes you stronger. Don't resist, no matter how surly you are.

The bond is no respecter of person. Outside of sexuality such as straight or gay, types or species don't matter. You could be bonded with someone as different from you as night and day. However, no matter what the case, you'll begin to care for them in some fashion. You'll feel the need to be with each other as much as possible, both sexually and otherwise. They'll become the most important person in the world to you. Of course, this is assuming your bond is someone you can feasibly be with. Perhaps there is some truth to that reincarnation business, as sometimes, those souls are reborn into people who are never meant to be bonds - warring tribes, at-odds species, and even relatives or people with a great amount of age between them.

The bond is permanent. This is the person you were meant to be with, after all, until you die (and soul bonds usually die within years of each other). Theoretically, though, it can be broken. Mostly, this is done when one side betrays the other side somehow. As the bond is initiated through sex, it's broken in the same way. What happens next is rarely pretty. Police reports usually find the bodies of the dead bonded, cause of death specifically unknown.

Head spinning yet? It shouldn't be! This is the world you live in.

rules
- Comment with your character, preferences, what you're interested in, and what you're not interested in.
- Crosscanon tagging is expected and encouraged. Mention if you want to make some kind of canon-insertion AU with one of the characters or just have a nebulous AU.

prompts

Meeting - You see your bond in that way for the first time, and it's done. You're done. You have to have them to be complete.

Trying to Fight It - No, you're the type who rebels against this whole "soul bond" system. You're the master of your own design, and you won't give in despite the fact that you could just start masturbating right now.

Failure to Fight - The whole fighting thing didn't work out, and now you're going at each other like you'll die of thirst.

First Time - The legendary first time with soaring sensations, amazing orgasms, and the sharing of memories.

Not the Sharing Type - You're a private person and don't want your brain in someone else's. How can you reconcile this? Maybe doing the act can change your mind. Or maybe you just want relief so badly, you don't care.

Feedback - You feel all of your partners pleasure as well as their pain. If you can't come up with something kinky, I can't help you.

Dirty Thoughts - You know what's naughty? Sending mental images of what you'd like to do to your bond through your connection. It's like mental sexting - or a fun way to torture them.

Learning About Each Other - You're learning what both of you like and don't like and sharing as you go.

Jealousy - Someone tried to approach your bond and it made you a bit miffed. Now it's time for some affirmation of the connection and to make sure that you're still on their mind.

Rough Bond - Your bond is more hate than love sometimes, but it's a thin line. Besides, you still care more about them than anyone else, and god forbid someone hurt them. Besides, rough sex is fun.

Separation - You'll be apart for a while. You need one last hurrah

Reunion - You're back together. Now to make up for lost time. Not just because you want to, either.

Public - Remember how I said sex in public is accepted for bonds. Why not take advantage?

Chasing That High - You keep having sex with people, trying to find you bond.

Chasing That Low - In contrast to the above, you're trying to keep away from a bond by desensitizing yourself to sex.

Bond Party - Some young people throw "mixers" where, hopefully, you may meet your bond. Experimentation is bound to happen...even experimentation with multiple people at the same time, trying to find that one.

Can Never Be - Your bond is with someone you shouldn't have one with. They're your sworn enemy, your teacher, or your sibling. Your body and soul says yes, but your mind says no.

Strengthen - You need energy to defeat the big bad or rule the world. Go to your bond and recharge.

Comfort - A bond is often the only one who can calm their other half down, and that sometimes happens through a grounding via sex, bringing the upset party back to what really matters.

Healing - Healing wounds and healing the connection all comes down to body pressed against body. Just be careful of blood.

Long Time Bond - You've been together for some time now and you know each other like the back of your hands. You can make them come in ten seconds flat if need be, but it's more fun to drag things out, isn't it?

Ritual - You want to make your bond official in the eyes of the government. Unsurprisingly, the marriage ceremony is ritualistic sex.

Impregnation - There's no fertilization between the eggs and sperm of non-bonds, so one surefire way to make sure everything's on the up and up is to get pregnant.
Mind Games - Being psychically connected is all good until they fuck with your head.

Dependency - It's not always easy, being for, all intents and purposes, addicted to a person. You need them like you need breathing, and you'll take what you can even if you're ashamed.

Already with Someone - You love someone, but they're not your bond. Can they keep you when you meet your real bond?

I'm Not Yours, You're Not Mine - You know you're not bonds. Still you want them to stay with you and you'll do anything and try to be better.

False Bond - You thought you were bonded, you really did, until you met them

Faking It - There are benefits to faking a bond, including for safety, financial gain, and to secure alliances. Of course, you can't fake it in the bedroom.

Manipulating - You'll get what you want, even if you have to lie and pretend you're bonded to them...how you can fake that, no one knows, but it's worth a shot.

It's Not Me, It's You - Sometimes, mistakes are made. They're your bond, but you're not theirs.

Break the Bond - Because you have a death wish or a snuff kink.

My Ex-Lover is Dead - Your soul bond is gone and you're trying to fill the gap.

OR MAKE UP YOUR OWN

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[She knows that fighting against this isn't working, there's an edge of futility to it, but Natasha has never been an easy woman. She'll fight for every breath that it gives her, every moment that it keeps the inevitable from happening. It's the link that scares her, not the sex, the idea of letting him in her head when there are nights it still keeps her awake.

Clint had given her a moral compass when so much of her life she'd been without one. It wasn't always an easy thing to live with.]

You didn't have a choice. It's not the same.

[Her voice a whisper. Part of her wants to ask him if he even realizes how much blood is on her hands, but that question is too vulnerable, goes down a road she has no interest in, and so she sticks to the point that's easier to talk about and harder all at the same time. He'd been a good person and they'd taken that away from him.

She'd just been raised to it. A little girl with a gun in her hand from the time she was strong enough to hold one. She hits the bag harder, enough to sting her knuckles red, as if she can punchhard enough to make him understand just what they're facing.

His past doesn't scare her, if she's honest. She's read his file. It's the idea of him seeing hers.]

I just thought I was on the right side. Turns out I'm not so great at knowing what that is.

[ No fighting against it isn't working, but feeling the bag kick into his chest is satisfying. He holds it still, steady, unforgiving, letting her take her frustration out on it instead of arguing with him.

Of course, Natalia wouldn't be who she was, if she couldn't do both at once.

He grunts, and just holds the bag steady for her. He raises his eyebrows. ]

I knew, on some level, what I was doing.

[ And on some level he'd liked it. He'd liked being useful, thinking his best friend dead. But he'd always known that it was wrong. He shouldn't have done any of it, but did either of them really have a choice? Her, the Red Room; him, HYDRA. ]

But you do know. You chose the right side, back at the airport.

[ Not the best side. Not for her, but the right side. ]

[He holds it steady, and he takes her frustration, lets her hit it harder than she could otherwise. It's easy enough to judge the way the bag swings and adjust, but this is more satisfying.

He raises his eyebrows, and there's a furtive moment where she meets his eyes as she pulls back for a moment, looking at him and she can feel how the body pulls at her, how it twists. That bond that she doesn't know how to escape. Leaving, walking away from this conversation and from him would be the smart thing, but it feels like she's caught in his orbit.]

Almost too late. I thought there was a middle road.

[Some way where they all walked away from it. Her lips curl, and she shakes her head. It had been almost idealistic, really. The idea that she'd get to keep her friends, that maybe if they played it right she didn't have to lose anyone. Clearly Steve had been rubbing off on her.

She's quiet for a moment, even a pause in the rhythm of her punches.]

None of them know, really. Not everything.

[A low murmur, lips pressed thin. Clint knows the most, but she's never been the sort to bare her soul to anyone. Never felt particularly inclined to fill in the gaps in her file, to give him every bloody detail. And that's what the bond asks and gives, every dark secret, every man woman and child she's killed. He's killed. They get the blood on each others' hands and hope that together they can bear it.

She can't pretend that doesn't shake her.]

[ He actually understands her point. He doesn't want to know everything she was forced to do as a child. He doesn't want to hear the things she was told, the lives she took.

Both of them should walk away. Both of them should... he doesn't want to leave her. He wants to be close to her, be on her side, and just let things take their natural course.

He sighs, feeling her tugging at him. He could reach out. She's so close. He wants to touch her, and just push her hair back. But if he touches her, they're both lost and he knows that. But still, the urge curls in his gut and makes his breakfast roil uncertainly. ]

No one needs to know everything. Not even me.

[ His words are gentle, soft, a caress that he wants to give her. ]

[They should. They both know why this is bad, why for them of all people a soulbond is a dangerous thing. But she can't walk away and the fact that he's still here, still braced against the punching bag says that she's not the only one.

She wants him. She knows she does, can't stop thinking about pressing against him and pulling him down so that his mouth fits against her, her hands sliding up his chest. And if that's all this was she might not fight it so hard, when almost every muscle in her body wants to reach for him.]

I'm not sure we'll get that choice.

[It's her fear summed up in a whispered sentence, the thing that they've both had taken from them too much already. Their pasts are both blood-stained and forced upon them, and this almost feels like one more thing taken away.]

If not for the bond, would you..

[She trails off with a shake of her head because it seems like a worthless question, answers her frustration by picking up the rhythm of fists against him (the punching bag between them, but it hardly matters, does it?).]

[ He's sure as hell not going to be the first one to walk away. He's never backed down. It wasn't only Steve who was stubborn when they were younger. He's got a pretty good stubborn streak going for him too.

She goes to ask a question and then she goes back to hitting the bag. He lets her get out her frustration for a few minutes. At a natural break in her rhythm, he steps out from behind the bag and in front of it. If she wants to hit something, she'll have to either hit him now, or move. Either way, he wins.

... Or something. ]

Would I what, Natalia?

[ He puts the Russian accent on her name. He knows what he is doing means doom for both of them, but he can't seem to help himself. ]

[She almost keeps punching as he steps in front of the punching bag, but that would mean contact, and they're already too close. He calls her Natalia and she shivers, looks up at him with a tilt of her head, because there's no way back from this, can feel it crumbling, the way the fraying threads between them start to snap.

It's cheating, and he knows it. It's why he did it, because this is getting out of hand for both of them, and they probably passed the point they couldn't come back from a while ago if they're being honest.]

Would you want this, if not for the bond?

[It's quiet, a useless question because she doesn't think he can tell. Doesn't think she can tell with how being around him makes her ache, goes straight to her head. She takes a breath, then looks up at him, a few beats of her heart and she's slowly pressing fingertips against the fabric of his shirt.]

I don't know, does it matter?

[ A small voice tells him that yes it matters. To her, to him. Would the bond not being there make this any better for the pair of them. ]

I know that when they erased everything else, they couldn't erase you.

[ Which is a huge admission for Bucky. He's never told anyone what it was like under HYDRA's thumb. But with her, it feels right.

He's prepared for her to attack him. Prepared for just about anything. But that soft touch against his chest are his undoing.

Growling, he reaches out and grabs her, pulling her in tight. He wishes he had a second arm to hold her, but his one will have to do. Locking eyes with her, he leans in and crushes his mouth against hers.

God, he's needed this. ]

[It matters, but she hadn't expected a clear answer when she can't even come up with one herself.

In truth, the one that he does give her is more touching than she could have expected. The idea that she was something they hadn't been able to take away from him. That whatever this bond was, that there was a weight to it. That maybe it meant something.]

I always thought I'd lost it. That it was something else they took away; no distractions. Until I saw you.

[He growls and her fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt as he pulls her in tight, close, those threads of resistance snapping as everything comes undone. His one arm wrapped around her as their eyes met and then it's their lips, his mouth against hers and she kisses him back hard and a little greedy.

He feels so good against her, the heat of him, the solidness of his chest and the way that their mouths press together leaves her breathless. Nothing should feel this good, but he does. Her fingers in his shirt pulling him in against her as her other hand moves up to curl at the back of his neck.]

[ No one had taken anything from them. They'd still found each other, despite everything that had been done to them, they now had each other.

It's like the click of a lock opening or closing, when he kisses her. Just something fitting so perfectly, like the last piece of a puzzle.

He sighs, against her mouth, pulling back a little bit. He wants to ask her 'his room or hers' but he's a gentleman and he won't ask that. ]

They couldn't take it from either of us.

[ He promises her in a whisper against her lips. Cupping the back of her head, he pulls her in close and just holds her for a moment. Nothing sexual, just the pair of them, holding each other.

Then he pulls back and looks at her, his large hand smoothing down her hair. He leans in to kiss her again. ]

If you want me to go, you're going to have to tell me.

[It feels almost like a sort of calm when he kisses her, when everything gives away and it's just the warmth of his lips on hers. They fit together in a way she never thought she could, always an outsider even to her friends.

But he fits against her, her lips almost tingling, and she's half-breathless when they part. He gives her those words like a promise, like this is something they can't take. And that means something, the way he holds her against him, just lets her feel the proximity, breathe in the scent of his skin. And it's... good. She wants him, he makes her body ache for his touch, but it's not the mad fever-pitch she'd always imagined, like it is in books.

Her hands shift so she can wrap slender arms around him, holding onto him as her heartbeat races, fingertips slipping underneath the hem of his shirt so she can touch skin, soft and light.]

I don't want you to go.

[Her voice is a low murmur, but there's a certainty to it, a strength. She's never been shy about what she wants- though in truth there are few things she lets herself want- but this is irresistible. Natasha leans into it as his hand brushes down against her hair, a low murmur on her lips. It doesn't eliminate her concerns, but the idea of pulling away is impossible.

Instead, she pushes up onto the balls of her feet to meet him as he leans in to kiss her.]

[ Three times now, he's been brainwashed around her. Three times now, he could have killed her. But each time, he chose a different path.

In Odessa, he'd chosen to shoot through her, taking out the target. That had been harder than he'd like to admit. He'd felt the gunshot wound as if he'd shot himself.

In DC, he'd taken a lighter path, getting her out of the way of his objective. But still, it had burned through him who she was.

In Vienna, he hadn't taken the fatal path that he could have. No one knew that while he'd made her feel it, she was never in any danger, not from him.

Now, here they were in this African paradise, a place of safety and solitude and he had his hands on her in a completely different way.

His tongue begs for entrance into her mouth and sweeps in, tasting her in a way that he hasn't before. Her clever fingers make him hims shiver and goosebumps break out on his skin.

He trails his hand down, brushing over her back. The fingers sneak into her workout shirt and trace circles on the skin of her back. When he pulls back, he's panting and not unaffected. ]

I'm not going anywhere, Natalia.

[It hadn't been until Vienna that she'd realized he was just as beholden to that bond as she was. She'd wondered, suspected, but not until he'd had his fingers around her throat and she didn't even really manage to fight it, fingers curled against his arm instead of prying at his grip. He could have crushed her throat or snapped her neck, but he hadn't. Just left her gasping with the feel of his fingers lingering on her skin for hours.

She expects his touch will linger here, too. The way he feels like heat against her as his tongue presses into her mouth as her lips part, a low murmur as her tongue slides against his, heat sparking at the feel of it. His hand sliding down her body, fingers sliding under her shirt and tracing circles on bare skin.

When they part, her breath comes a little faster, her lips flushed and her eyes bright. Fingers pushing a little further under his shirt, a light drag of nails against his skin, just feeling him under her hands. For the moment the allure was hotter than the worry- pressed against him it felt like some kind of reassurance that all of her broken edges might actually fit somewhere afterall.]

Good. I want you here.

[And she means it, nuzzling in lightly against his chest. She knows why she'd fought against this, but touching like this, pressed against him feels so right she doesn't want to let go.]

[ He pulls her closer, burying his nose in her hair. He wants her, and that's pretty obvious, but he's not embarrassed. He's with her and that's all that matters. She's against him and they are no longer destroyed and broken but a piece of a whole.

He sighs into her hair and runs his hand up and down her spine. His fingers gently trace the small divot her spine makes in her back. She's so fragile, but also so strong. He knows how much she prides herself on her strength.

He leans in to kiss her again, and then there's a cleared throat from near the door. Bucky scowls, looking up, but at least he doesn't reach for a weapon. ]

Sorry. But we are ready for you, Sergeant.

[ The man shifts his glasses, and takes a step back when Bucky's scowl deepens. ]

I'm not going.

[ It's barely above a growl. Bondeds aren't usually happy about getting interrupted when they first acknowledge the bond. Hell, the guy is really lucky Bucky didn't pull a weapon. ]

[She murmurs softly as he pulls her closer, nosing into her hair and she smiles against his chest. This is good, the way she feels as long as he's touching her, as long as she can hold onto him. Natasha humming quietly in appreciation as his fingers trace up over her spine, the bumps of her vertebrae through thin skin as her own hands slide up against his sides.

He shifts, moving in for another kiss and she's about to meet him when there's sound from the doorway. She's not even thinking about it when her hands shift to hold onto him tighter, but it's just one of the medical staff. Clearly the gym was a bad place for this, but she sighs, reaching up and curling fingers at the back of his neck, trying to be reassuring given the way he growls and the poor medtech seems notably worried under the weight of Bucky's scowl.

She understands it, honestly. Because she can't stomach the thought of letting go of him, giving him up even if she knows it's for a good cause. He's under her skin and she wants him, like letting go would be physically painful. But she leans up, nips softly against his collar, something that's half reassurance and half a please don't frighten the medical staff.]

You can reschedule him for tomorrow, right?

[Her tone is certainly more personable than Bucky's, but there's still an undertone that saying no is probably still inadvisable. They need to get out of here and somewhere without interruptions. Her room, she thinks.]

[ Bucky's scowl deepens further. He's not known for being a good patient anyway, and here he is growling at the medical staff again. At least Steve isn't around to see it and tell him to stop it. Though, if Steve saw Bucky and Nat, he might understand.

The nip at the collar is not helping him control himself. He's fully ready to pick her up over his shoulder and haul her out of there. But it does distract him from frightening the medical staffer.

The man clears his throat uncomfortably and almost squeaks when Bucky looks at him again. ]

O-o-of course!

[ Hasty retreat: beaten.

Bucky doesn't care. He's got Natalia in his arms and a chance at something that's purer than he deserves. She is the one thing that has felt right all this time. Righter than Steve, although he'll never tell his best friend that.

But they should get out of here. The gym is no place for anything that he, at least, wants to do. ]

Your room or mine?

[She relaxes a little when the man leaves, takes a breath and looks up at Bucky. Shouldn't give him up, not right now, not with him in her arms and the way it felt right, the way that they pressed together. The scent of him and the solidness of his chest as she leaned into his body.]

My room's closer.

[There's a tilt of her head as she smiles at him, and there's a bit of trust in that, because she doesn't often invite people into her room. Not here where it's more than just a place to store her clothes, when she sleeps there and so it's a safe place. Her safe place.

Her room is also less likely to have Steve knocking on the door trying to check in on his best-friend. And while she normally approves of Steve watching out for his friend, right now she just wants him to herself. She presses a kiss to his collarbone, and then she's pulling back, reaching out to catch his hand because she doesn't want to let go.]

Come on.

[ Bucky gladly takes her hand and follows her out of the gym. He's sure that somewhere, Steve is starting to look for him, so going back to his room would just incite questions and Explanations. Things he's not quite willing to get into, not even with Steve right now.

The halls are always silent. There's the hum of technology somewhere, but nothing too intrusive. He stops, just outside her door, and pins her against the wall with his body. She's more than able to get out, but he wants to stop, to ask something, before they go any further. ]

We can go to my room. If you'd rather this be left alone.

[ He knows how precious her space is to her. Knows, without a doubt, that he's being brought into something special. But he still wants to give her the option, one last chance to duck out, if she's not sure. ]

[She lets her fingers curl against his as she leads him through the hallways, knows the fastest route to her room from the gym without thinking about it by now. She prefers being in one of the two places, honestly, if she's not in one of the common areas. The halls are quiet and they don't run across anyone, thankfully. She doesn't want to explain, not now; she just wants him.

He stops just by her door and there's a hot gasp as he pins her against the wall with his body and she arches subtly up against him. She smiles, looking up at him because if nothing else she appreciates the question.]

It's fine.

[And she means it, though that fact in and of itself is a little surprising. Willing to share this place that's just hers, because he feels good, safe. She reaches up, curling fingers and tugging him down for a kiss, her other hand moving to open the door. Once she's made up her mind she's not shy, and he feels so good, she just wants his mouth on hers again.]

[ He smiles, that soft crooked smile that used to make the women swoon. He's not interested in Natalia swooning right now. He needs to get his hand on her.

Obligingly, he leans in and kisses her, feather light and barely there. Then he presses his mouth to hers firmly. Leaning down, still kissing her, he wraps his arm under her butt and lifts her against him. He bumps open the door with his shoulder and carries her into the room. (It's as close as he can get to a bridal carry, give the one armed man a break.)

He holds her right where he wants her, breaking the kiss and kicking the door closed. ]

I want you.

[ He whispers the words against her lips. Bucky has never been shy. He's told ladies what he wants before and this time it's Natalia and that's what matters.

His desire is pretty evident, and he doesn't care. His one regret is having only one hand. Life was made easier with two. ]

[She murmurs as he moves to her urging, their lips brushing in a barely-there kiss, and then he follows it with another, firmer and more heat to it as she presses up into it with a sigh as she holds onto him. His one arm lifting her up and her knees come up to press into his hips, helping balance herself a little as he bumps the door open and carries her inside.

It's nice, the way he carries her, their lips still mingling, that heat that thrums through her body, dragging slender fingers through his hair to touch against the back of his neck, her other hand anchoring herself against his shoulder as the door closes behind them.]

If you didn't I'd be very disappointed.

[A little breathless, her eyes shining bright and heated in the dim light of her bedroom as his breath teases against her flushed lips. She's not shy either -- it can be hard to get her here, to make her decide it's worth wanting someone, but she's always owned her sexuality no matter what assumptions people made about her. She smiles, leans in and nips teeth against his lips with a low hum, just a little playful.

Her room is almost criminally plain; the only real decoration is the weapons arranged to be in easy reach no matter where she is.]

I want you too.

[ Any other time, he'd be impressed with the array of weapons. His room isn't much different. Weapons everywhere, just in case. But he isn't worried about that right now. Instead, he's worried about getting her naked and consummating this bond that they've fought against for so long.

At least HYDRA never knew about it. If they had.... But they never did. He'd managed to protect her that much. Everything else, he'll apologize for. In very thorough ways.

Gently, he sets her down on the floor. He needs his one arm to get him naked. And her naked. There needs to be nakedness. Carefully, he reaches back and grabs his t-shirt, before whipping it off over his head. He carefully drops it on the floor, so as not to disturb her weapons. But it does put his shoulder scars in stark relief.

He doesn't care. She knows there are harder, deeper scars than them in him. He pulls her against him again, and kisses down her neck. His hand slides up, under her work out shirt. He needs his hands on her skin. ]

[He sets her down on the floor, and if she was being pragmatic, she'd start stripping while he works his way out of his own shirt, but she can't resist pausing to watch. The sight of his skin, muscular body with the scarring along his shoulder. He's gorgeous in a way that makes her fingers twitch for the desire to press them against his skin. Just the sight of him like this makes her skin heat.

For her, the scars don't detract, aren't strange or foreign. She has her own scars, missteps when she was younger, though the most notable are the ones that he left on her skin -- bullet scars on the left side of her abdomen and her left shoulder.

He pulls her against him and she leans into him, hands touching against his sides, palms skimming up against his body, curling against his shoulders as he kisses against her neck. She murmurs, eyes fluttering under the feeling, letting her head tilt to give him better access in a gesture that's all trust. His hands slide up under her shirt and her hands slowly slide down his back, fingers scraping a little against the skin.

She leans in, nipping against his collarbone, a sly flick of her tongue, tasting his skin. She wants him and it makes her shake.]

[ The want is definitely mutual. His jeans hide nothing of his want, and he doesn't care. His lips are on her skin and that's all that matters. She's here with him, they're safe, and no one can stop them now.

He growls against her neck, when he encounters the fabric of her shirt. He wants her as naked as he is - no, more.

He kisses up her throat, to kiss her lips again, the pulls back slightly. His hand pushes the shirt up a bit more. ]

Help me get this off. [ He wants to see her, to feel her, to be able to touch and taste fully. But she has on too many clothes and he only has one hand, otherwise, her clothing would be rendered to shreds by now. ]

[She can feel his arousal pressed against her with how close they are, just the layers of his jeans and her thin exercise pants, but even that feels like too much. She wants him naked, wants her bare skin against his, wants the heat and the feeling of it. She presses in back against him, a little closer when there's little left to begin with.

There's a heated sigh that's almost a moan as his mouth kisses up her throat, then their lips are mingling together again, before he pulls back, fingers hiking her shirt up a bit further. Her smile is a little crooked with a shine to her eyes that's clear arousal as she nods in breathless agreement, pulling back just barely enough that she can yank it off over her head, tossing it to the floor.

The bra she wears underneath is more function than eye-catching, a sports bra since she'd just been intending to spend a couple hours taking her frustrations out on the equipment and not this. But this is... it's good. She drags the bra off too, letting it follow after her shirt as she looks up at him with a sly smile.]

Better? [She's all pale skin, the generous curves of her breasts with pink peaks already hard in the air. She isn't shy about her scars, though aside from those two gunshots it's mostly just a very old scar over her stomach that's faded enough it's hard to make out in the wrong light.]

oh thank you so much!! I love your Bucky too he's so good.

Thank you! Do you have a plurk? I'm errantwritings

I do! I'm natalia_vdova over there too :)

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