bakerstreet | (no subject)

(no subject)

CUDDLE MEME

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

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

coding taken from

erotiquely

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

He was going to kill her. She'd taken bullets, been knifed far too many times, choked out by strong hands yet Clint Barton was actually going to kill her with his kisses.

What was wrong with the world, honestly.

She couldn't actually formulate words, just swallowed hard and tried to steady her breathing. Okay nobody had ever taken this much care and attention with her, then again Natasha would never allow anybody to do this, nobody but him anyway.

"Then take some off" Natasha managed to spit out a response, legs twitching with the strain of just keeping herself still not not just getting up and latching herself onto him. This was his game and Natasha would play along as much as she could.

She dropped back onto the mattress, slide fingers down her bare stomach to tease the waistband of her shorts. "I mean, if you really want them off, you're the one dealing the cards.."

He could hear it in her voice that he was getting to her, and watching her run her hands down her own body was certainly getting to him. He had never been with a woman more beautiful, more confident than her, and even the scars that marred her otherwise perfect skin only added to her allure. Saying ‘he had it bad’ didn’t even begin to cover it.

Moving up her body, he took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips before releasing them again, his fingers sliding into the waistband of the shorts and starting to push them down, his lips pressing gentle kisses to her stomach. He slid his hands up her legs, bending them at the knees and pulling the shorts off over her feet. Kneeling on the foot of the bed he pushed her knees apart, trailing kisses down her stomach, below her belly button... lower.

Stopping, he raised his eyes to her face, not continuing until she met his eyes again.

Most people would shy away from their scars, reminders of all the bad things manifesting into a permanent mark. But for Natasha they became like trophy's, different periods in her life when she came too close to that fine line.

She was happy with her imperfections and she was happy to have them on display.

Natasha lifted hips to aid him, hands lightly ran through his hair before he was gone and out of her reach and she was left to tangle fingers into the shirt that was still knotted in place, fingers grasping the baggy material.

She felt his pause, had swallowed back her own fears and doubt because this was something she'd allowed very few to go, to be so close, it was an intimate act and it always made her pause.

She warily met his eyes, pupils dilating in the light. Natasha didn't know how to phrase it, didn't know if she should say something about her concerns or just keep her mouth closed. Then again Natasha was never very good at what she should and shouldn't do.

"You don't have to" She mumbled softly, raising herself back up on her elbows as she patiently watched him. "It's not something I, people don't.. it's fine." It's not that she didn't trust him or that she didn't want to nor that she didn't trust him enough. It was the fact that this was a step towards complete intimacy and that, in honesty, terrified her.

He had expected to see desire in her eyes, anticipation; he hadn’t expected fear and uncertainty. A crease forming between his brows, he sat up as she spoke. It’s not something she what? Not something she enjoyed? Not something she wanted? Not something she ever let people do? Not something she had ever done?

“It’s okay,” Clint said, rubbing her knee gently and giving her a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. There’s plenty of other things we can do instead.”

She felt one foot tall, worrying her lip with her teeth as she sighed softly. Okay so she'd half ruined the mood, but hell, she didn't care about ruining it. "It just doesn't normally... people don't normally care enough and it's something I've learnt to deal with." Usually by retreating to the shower if she ever got that far in the mood. It wasn't like nobody had ever offered, it had happened years ago, but since then she hadn't let herself get close enough to anybody.

"It's not that I don't want it, it's just something I'm not used to and if I get too twitchy.." Natasha gave him a half smile, too twitchy was a nicer way of saying she could potentially snap his neck.

Nobody wanted that.

"It's not that I don't trust you, I just don't trust myself plus, I kind of prefer fingers y'know, if you're serious" She shrugged and let the sudden tension go with that smooth roll.

They knew a lot about each other, more than anyone else in the world knew about either of them, but there were still a lot of things about Natasha that Clint didn’t quite understand. He knew how hard her life had been, but it was still often hard to grasp just how much it had effected her, just how deep the scars were that it left on her. How could he truly understand without having lived it himself?

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said. Lifting one of her legs, he moved it over to his other side to rest against her other. Crawling upwards, he stretched out on the bed beside her. “If you change your mind I’m more than willing,” he said with a smile, “But in the meantime... I took the lead the first night, so why don’t you lead me today?” They could move at her pace, and if it was too much, too soon then he would rather slow it down than risk scaring her off. “Whatever you want me to do. And yes, I’m serious.” His grin might have been in stark contrast to his words, but he meant it.

Natasha nodded along, groaning internally at herself. She was the Black Widow, always faced things down and overcame obstacles when they were in her path. This was an obstacle she just couldn't get over right now, maybe further down the line, if they managed to keep this up and get on with their working lives that is.

She was nodding, un-knotting his shirt and smoothing it down over her stomach. "You trust me enough to let me lead?" She asked softly, rolling onto her side to prop herself up so she could watch him. "Knowing what you know, having seen what I can do.. When I said I wanted to dominate you, I didn't want to bring work here, didn't want to make you a target." Reaching out to smooth fingers down his chest, eyebrow perking slowly. "I need to know that you trust me first.. and don't just say you do." Natasha moved, sitting up to slowly slide herself into his lap, hands now fisting his shirt to pull him up so she could balance legs either side of his waist, holding him close to her.

""Need you to be sure." She wasn't about to turn this into some fifty shades of grey shit, but the worry that Natalia would rear her ugly head was a concern.

Clint watched her move and let the melody of her words wash over him. The fact that she was bothering to explain meant a lot, she could have just as easily just taken him at his word, did whatever she wanted to him and hoped that he just rolled with it. “I know what you can do,” he agreed, rolling to lie flat on his back when she moved to straddle him. “But I also know you won’t use tactics on me like you do in the field.”

It wouldn’t be like that with them, it never had been. Work was work, and they didn’t take it home with them, that was the deal.

Letting her pull him up to sit, Clint rested his hands on the mattress slightly behind him and put his weight on them, his eyes never leaving Natasha’s.

“You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, and you’ve had my back since the day I brought you in. You’re the only person in the world I do trust. Completely,” he admitted sincerely. No playful grin, no hidden smirk in his eyes, just pure and raw honesty.

Having him say that he trusted her was like a low blow in her stomach. Probably because she could never promise that her work wouldn't come home with her. Or that she wouldn't slip back into Natalia. Natasha could never promise anything like that. She could say that she'd try, but even that would seem tepid.

Natasha nodded, seemingly somewhat happy about his words and proceeded to trail fingers down his neck lightly, head ducking until her lips met the hollow of his throat. "Sit up and lean back against the frame." Words were soft but certainly a command, sitting up on her knees to give him room to move.

"Thanks, by the way. For taking a chance" for saving my life.

Clint closed his eyes only when she leaned in to kiss him, her lips warm against his throat. He did as he was told, shifting backwards so he could rest his back against the headboard. He knew it might seem like the same tactics at first, but she wasn’t harsh and commanding. Everything she did today would be only because she wanted to; no pressure, no obligation, just trust and need and desire.

Her sudden thanks took him by surprise. he didn’t have to ask what for, what he had taken a chance on, because the answer was always the same. It was the one thing she never let go, the debt she still felt she owed him no matter how many times over he felt it repaid. A more insecure man might have questioned the current turn in their relationship, if this was just a further way to pay off her debt, but the thought didn’t even cross Clint’s mind. He knew where they stood he knew the truth, and they had been slowly moving toward this for a very long time.

“Best gamble I ever made,” he replied. “I regret a lot of things I’ve done, but that was never one of them.”

He was too good for her. Natasha knew that was a fact, also knew she'd feel like that as soon as they'd crossed the line. He didn't deserve someone as broken and beaten as her, even though she seemed to be made out of stone she was constantly falling apart and rebuilding herself, constantly being repaired by glue and tape.

She didn't voice that, simply took his hands in hers, guiding them down along her body until she set them on her hips which rolled under the new found weight. Her hands left his, reaching up to smooth a finger over his smile lines, tracing with the pad of her finger. "Keep talking to me" Remind me who I am She murmured, lips finding the corner of his, pressing a kiss there as fingers traced every line and touched every freckle of his face. Like she was learning him in this new close proximity.

He let her lead his hands wherever she wanted, didn’t try to move them of his own accord until she had placed them on her hips and let them go. Putting a little pressure on his fingers as he held her, his eyes drifted closed as she began her slow and thorough inspection of his face. How she could make even that unbelievably sexy he didn’t know.

Clint knew what he was supposed to say to her in this situation. He was supposed to tell her what he wanted to do to her, what he wanted her to do to him; he was meant to call her beautiful and sexy and tell her how badly he wanted her and for how long, but these were all things she’d probably heard a hundred times before, things that were true but that anyone could tell her after only just laying eyes on her. They didn’t know her, didn’t know what made her truly beautiful, not like Clint did. He liked to think he knew her better than anyone, it was certainly true the other way around. She wouldn’t want the same hollow words, she’d want something real.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” he began quietly. To live through what she had and still be able to great the world with a smile on her face and one finger in the air was impressive. “And I’m not just talking physically, though you can definitely kick my ass.”

Okay, so maybe he should have stuck with the usual sexy talk, because this probably wasn’t setting the type of mood she was going for.

Natasha had heard words like that too many times, although hearing those compliments and endearments meant more to her when spoken from him than anybody else. Seduction had always been a tactic, she'd never really gained anything out of the meetings and faked relationships except practice to hone her skills.

This was something she hadn't done for a very long time, and it felt like a different lifetime ago. Back when everyone was a target and nobody was safe and the words people spoke were just childish remarks conjured by people who sought to control her.

She'd long moved attention to his neck, taken time to trail one hand through his nails, fingers massaging his scalp softly, down to the back of his neck where she toyed with the short hairs at the nape. Her other hand busy tracing the lines of his neck, along that pulse, following her her lips. Natasha had smiled against his skin at the compliments which were certainly new and made her feel somewhat, well, defenseless. He did know her too well and that thought scared her, because however much he knew about Natasha there was still a whole other side he didn't know much about, and that he'd probably never understand.

"Good start, but if you can do better than that I'll let you move your hands where ever you want them to be" She huffed warm air against his neck, curled her tongue to lap at the pulse again, always finding it strangely soothing and enticing to feel it speed up and slow down.

He made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded almost like a purr, if he was capable of such, as she worked her hands through his hair. Everyone had their little things that they loved, and having his hair played with was one of Clint’s. He actually enjoyed going to a hairdresser just for that fact.

“Mmm, you’re not making it very easy to think right now,” he said as she worked on his neck. “Watching you fight is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You’re all, uh...” he paused a moment as her tongue flickered over his pulse, his own fingers pressing into her skin slightly. “You’re like a dancer, graceful and fluid. An art form. The way our limbs stretch and your chest heaves and your hair swings around your face, and there’s this fire in your eyes... you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Of course he knew she was beautiful from their first meeting, but he hadn’t noticed all these things right away. It wasn’t until she had been fighting for SHIELD, fighting by his side with such determination; it wasn’t until she was truly Natasha that he saw her true beauty and realised that he was on the fast track to becoming a total goner.

The noise Clint made caught her attention, that low purring noise that made her stomach tighten and as he spoke that certainly changed everything again.

She'd been called a torrent of things but this was new and did things to her that everything else failed to. It was like an award to her skills, praising her ego by picking apart her violent nature.

She lifted her head as her lips found his and slanted perfectly like they were two puzzle pieces and she was determined to slot them together. When she finally came up for air there was that content smile on her face blurring the lines for a second between personas and a smile that was all hers.

"Okay hot stuff, you've earned your reward." Natasha removed hands to find his, picking them off her hips and letting them go just as easily as she moved fingers to tug on his shirt, pulling it up over his chest as a hint for him to take it off but to also give her easier access to the ridges of his collar bones, tracing the dip with her tongue and leaving a small trail of nips along the protruding bone.

"You're so hot Clint, fuck." She'd of course realized she'd never actually made it clear, although he must have known what she thought from the lingering glances after sparring practice.

When she kissed him like that it was hard to keep his hands where they were. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer until he could feel her heart beating against his, but he resisted. Eventually they parted and he smiled back at her, breathing a little heavier. See? Getting personal was much more effective than the usual drivel. Grinning wider when she ‘allowed’ him the use of his hands again, he started by removing the shirt she had so helpfully pushed up for him and tossing it aside, her mouth already back to work on his collar bone.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he replied. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard those words, but hearing them in her voice coming from her lips just made it better.

Slipping his hands under the hem of ~~his~~ her shirt, he slowly slid them up her body to her breasts.

The removal of his shirt sure made it easier and Natasha was grateful for his hands, and of course she was even more grateful when they slipped up the front of her own stolen shirt.

She took a sharp intake of breath against his collar bone, pulled up to gaze at him with a curved smile.

"I've always thought of being shot down in a hail of bullets, not killed off by you and those rough fingers, ever heard of moisturizer?" Of course it was meant to be a light hearten jab at their new found situation but it probably hit closer to home then she'd have thought. Then again her own brain to mouth filter wasn't working properly and hadn't since the minute his lips had found hers.

She was really sinking like a stone in the sea, and had no way of pushing against the tide, the most she could do was cling on to him for dear life and hope she didn't drown under the waves.

The last thing Clint wanted to think of now, or ever, was Natasha dying, especially at his hands. He had been meant to kill her once and had disobeyed orders to let her live. A second time he might have killed her had she not been the better fighter. He couldn’t remember a lot of things from when he was under Loki’s control, at least not in any real clarity, except for in his dreams, and dreams could never be trusted. He did remember holding a knife to her throat, though, and pressing forward until it almost touched her skin...

“Real men don’t wear moisturizer,” he said, shaking off her words and the memories, pushing them back behind the walls he had banished them to. “Besides, calluses can come in pretty handy. Playing guitar is painful without ‘em, and they do give a certain extra...” he brushed one callused thumb over her nipple. “impact when needed.”

That had certainly proved a point. She liked his hands and hell, she couldn't imagine him slathering them in creams that smelt like a floral arrangement. The friction was instant, forcing a roll of her spine into his hands.

She felt suddenly useless, not in a good enough position to get any purchase so she redeemed herself and swallowed back a moan. Moving her hips far enough back that she could reach down and tug his pants off his hips, aiding by her knees wiggling the material far enough.

Lips found his briefly before she was pulling away enough to lick her palm and reach inside his pants, repeating earlier actions and wrapping fingers around his length. Of course it wasn't the same effect considering the lack of fluids simply made it awkward as hell but Natasha wasn't counting on this being the only thing they'd be doing. His rough fingers and terms of endearment had made an otherwise intimate session of exploration turn into something that she knew she needed.

"You need to play guitar more" Voice had dropped an octave lower, raising eyes to meet his as she lent forward again enough to attach lips to his chin.

Point proven, Clint took great satisfaction in how she moved under his hands. It only egged him on and he continued the caresses, his touch rough yet gentle enough.

He stifled a groan when she wrapped her hand around him again, his own body arching into her. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the bed frame. “Maybe I should’ve... brought it with,” he spoke between breaths, though he was pretty sure she was talking more about the calluses it caused than the actual guitar. “Could’ve serenaded you.”

"Please don't. I'm already having a hard time controlling myself around you." Really, she was. The need to touch him even in close proximity to the others had been overwhelming.

Natasha would have chuckled at his lack of speaking and ragged breaths but she was too far gone to care, especially with him dragging those damn rough fingers across sensitive flesh. Half wondering why the hell she'd stopped him earlier when he was between her legs and willing.

She dragged lips up to his, having to lean up to kiss him making the position even more awkward, not that she'd start complaining now. Especially not when she retrieved her hand, made quick work of pulling his shirt over her head and automatically treating it with care by half folding the material and setting it on the sheets next to them.

"Although if you want to watch me dance badly then you should pull your weight too."

Clint could have laughed at that confession but he felt the same way. Even when they were trying to be discreet he had felt better with just the simple contact of her knee against his, and it had been like torture sitting through Bruce’s examination when all he really wanted to do was just get back here to her room and run his hands all over her gorgeous body. It wasn’t a good situation, not at all, but he didn’t care, not right now. He could care in five days.

“That happens a lot,” he did joke, though, because he just couldn’t help himself. He was just far too happy right now, she made him far too happy. He wasn’t a broody guy, but ever since the situation with Loki he hadn’t exactly been himself, and he certainly hadn’t been all that happy though he had hid it well from everyone. Right now, though, that all seemed like a distant memory and all there was now was her. He was drowning in her and he didn’t want to be saved.

He kissed her back but it didn’t last long before she was pulling back to remove her shirt. He smiled a little when she took the time to fold it and set it down where he had just haphazardly flung his off the bed.

“I’ve seen you dance,” he said, referring to some mission or another where she’d danced with random strangers and then the target while he waited in the shadows; always in the shadows. Bending his head forward he kissed her neck and worked his way down. “You’re mesmerizing.” Sliding one hand from her breast around to her back, his lips soon replaced it.

"No, you've seen Natalie, Lauren, Natalia dance" She corrected, because that had been a job and Natasha had a line embedded into her. She remembered it though, it was hard to forget when your mark got too handsy and left her with no choice but to pin those hands to the bedroom wall with carefully sharpened knives.

Natasha had to pause, couldn't finish the rest of her rambling because his lips were on her neck and working down and it was too good to talk over. Every shudder that rolled through her body was for him.

It occurred to her that she was currently at his mercy whether she wanted to admit it or not, and that in order for her to regain control she'd need to go one step further. So she did, bending her spine backwards, arching into him further and reaching a hand back to push his pants down further, returning her hand shortly to his length, pushing her body onto her knees while her free hand tilted his head up.

Natasha liked control. She figured she liked to let him hold the reigns but preferred to drive. Maybe one day she'd let him make her completely submissive, maybe with rope or cuffs but that was a far off dream. She trusted him, but that was crossing a border she hadn't done for a long time.

She caught his lips the same time as she lowered the weight from her knees and sank down on him slowly, parting their lips only to breath shallow gasps into his mouth, eyes closed with half concentration, half fear he'd see something more in them. Something deeper then she felt comfortable admitting to.

“Well, maybe some day I’ll see Natasha dance,” Clint retorted. Maybe some day he would get to step out of the shadows and it would even be him she danced with. It was a nice thought, but thoughts were getting harder to focus on and talking was pretty much out the window by now. Every sigh, every shudder, only increased his desire. He had never wanted another woman more than he wanted her, and no other had every pushed him to such heights.

Her hand was around him again, the other one in his hair and pulling his head back. He had forgot himself for a moment, just letting her words and reactions control his actions, but he easily handed the lead back over to her. He barely had time to look at her before she was pressing her lips to his while lowering herself onto him slowly until she’d taken the full length of him in. Her breaths were short and shallow, his own not much deeper. His hands slid around her back and up over her shoulder blades. He opened his eyes to watch her, fascinated by the expression on her face; her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed. Beautiful was not a strong enough word to describe her in this moment.

Maybe some day she'd let him take her dancing, when they had a moment spare when they weren't pumped up for a mission or something else.

The gaze was intense, she should have been worried about them slipping into an intimate embrace again much like the first night they descended into this new level of partnership. But it was too easy and came too well. Natasha wasn't sure when she realized she was comfortable with this, maybe it had been during that first night when they'd both taken the plunge.

She pressed lips to his again, one arm holding onto his shoulder for the leverage she needed to move, slow rolls of hips after taking a moment to adjust considering he wasn't exactly a small man but he wasn't big enough for her to be concerned for her body.

She couldn't help but make those soft noises in the back of her throat, nose nudging his softly as she smiled against his lips.