Take it slow

[reversesock]

Take It Slow (inspired by an anon comment by a Hulk player and damn it's hard to find gifts from Hulk 2008.) There are plenty of memes about skipping to the good part, rushing to sex, being desperate for it, and so on. But what about taking things slow? Some people enjoy that, as well, and still others have need to keep their calm - they're inexperienced and not completely ready or they can't get knock-out, drag-down excited for reasons that can get a bit...dangerous. Or the slowness could be nothing serious; foreplay could just be the word of the day. Then, you'll want to enjoy your time together and not run through the motions of a good time 'till its spent too soon. They say all good comes to those who wait, so savor every moment and wait for the inevitable to come. how to play › Comment with your character, preferences, and information. › Reply to other characters. › Use the RNG to determine your prompt or pick one. prompts inexperience ‹One or both of you don't have the experience nor the confidence.› trauma ‹You're not at ease getting close to anyone, but for them, you want to try, though you can't go headlong into it.› under pressure ‹You can't get too heated up because of your powers, your health, or your temper, so you have to keep things under control.› foreplay ‹Why rush the best part?› their pleasure ‹Your pleasure doesn't matter. You're 100% focused on them.› the best torture ‹Actually, you're trying to make them suffer by dragging this out. Isn't hatesex grand?› emotion ‹You love them. Both of you have a lot to say, so best to say it through actions that can't be done too quickly.› wrong place ‹Technically, you shouldn't be having sex here, so you have to keep things PG-13. Yeah, right. But at least you can pretend and keep things at a crawl...if you can.› last time for a while ‹They're about to go away, and you have to spend these moments with them and memorize everything about them.› last time for good ‹This is the end of the line. You want to make this time together last as long as you can.› do overs ‹It's time for round two! You've got nowhere better to be, and you could do this all day.› wildcard

Comments

[destressed]

[nope, wide open friend!]

let me know if this doesn't work then :)

[bozhemoi]

Natasha was shaken. It was a hard thing to admit. Even harder to hide when she felt like she had little control over her state of being right in that moment. She'd trusted Barton to get them all to safety, but now that they were, she wasn't feeling any better except in the brief moments she'd held his children.

She'd excused herself from the group as soon as possible, not long after Banner had. It was hard not to be a little obvious about where she was headed. She didn't really want to be around anywhere else. Bruce could understand if she didn't want to talk. She got the feeling he didn't really want to talk either.

What that 'witch' had done to them...

She stared at a spot on the floor as she listened to him shower, teeth biting into her lip while she battled with an urge just to not move at all, and a really, really strong one that compelled her to interrupt his bathroom time.

Natasha finally moved, nudging the door open and being quiet as she entered the cloud of steam. There was a flutter of nervousness but mostly there was just a need to be with him. To be held. To hold. To not speak. Her robe was dropped to the floor before she tugged aside the shower curtain and reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder.

"Bruce," she said loud enough to be heard over the water, but it was still quiet. A question as much as she was just letting him know he wasn't alone and that it was just her.

that is perfecto

[destressed]

He can, without a doubt, relate to being shaken. The things he'd done... he'd gone so long without- He can't even keep himself together when he thinks about it, so he does his very best not to. Tries to force it out of his mind, otherwise he's not so sure he could look in the damn mirror after.

He'd been the first of them to disappear into the depths of the house, the first to withdraw from the whole socializing thing, and for good reason. He's not really great company right now. He definitely, definitely doesn't want to talk about it. At least she knows him that well.

He's mostly leaning against the wall by the time she shows up, one arm braced against the tile, hot water rolling down his back. If he can say anything about Clint, it's that the man knows hot water heaters.

He doesn't startle at the touch, he doesn't, he's too- he's far too gone to be the startling sort. It's unexpected though, frankly, completely unexpected. He's had a few- maybe a few dreams, a few... ideas, a few notions, none he ever expected to happen, and never like this.

And yet there she is, hovering bare and exposed just on the outskirts of the tub, hand wet already, looking expectant.

"Natasha," he says, and it's as much of an acknowledgment as it is a subtle warning. He knows she knows what she's doing, what she's getting into, but he feels obligated to put up at least a token resistance. He's not, however, going to fight and die on this hill. He's happy to see her.

[bozhemoi]

She's had a lot of the arguments with herself, so she knows. She knows he wants to warn her away. He wants to keep her at a safe distance. But this road they've started down isn't really so easy to veer off. Not anymore. Natasha's at the point where if she doesn't at least try, if she doesn't follow it through and try and find happiness where she can, then...

She shivered despite her hand being covered by the warm water, or the way the bathroom was filled with a haze of steam.

And he does make her happy. Even if he doesn't yet understand why, or how. Even if there was a time when the Other Guy had given her nightmares, but they were way past that now. And Bruce was... Bruce. He was the big dork, and he had that curly hair she just always wanted to run her fingers through. And that crooked smile that undid her in ways she never anticipated.

Natasha stepped up into the tub once she had permission, arms circling around his waist and moving up to his chest as she presses a kiss to his back.

She's had dreams, too. Fantasies. Desires. She knows there's a limit maybe to how far she should push him. To how effective any seduction could be. But right now it's more about the comfort and just being with him.

[destressed]

He absolutely does not understand why he makes her happy, not when he can't even make himself happy. He's a rational person, he has a medical doctorate, he knows a little bit about mental health and interpersonal baggage. He knows anyone in a relationship with him is likely to suffer as a result of his own poor coping mechanisms, not to mention his giant green rage monster problems.

He knows all of this, and so cannot possibly wrap his head around why she- an incredibly, astoundingly intelligent person- would willingly pursue something despite that.

At the moment, he can't actually say he's complaining. He hasn't had intimacy in... it's been a long time. A decade, maybe, since he's had someone else's bare skin pressed to his, plastered along his back, lips touching the skin along his spine. It draws from him a long and slow exhale, tension easing off inexplicably.

Carefully and tentatively he reaches a hand down to find her forearm where it circles his waist, fingertips sliding along from elbow to wrist in a touch so delicate it nearly implies he thinks she's fragile. Afraid he might break her, afraid he might make the wrong move.

It's the most he's given in what feels like forever.

[bozhemoi]

Despite the image she projects to the world from time to time, Natasha hasn't recently had a moment this intimate. She might not have missed out for the same amount of time as Banner, but she can still appreciate how it feels to have someone touch you after a long time. She can still appreciate the fact that she shouldn't rush it. That tender was fine. Necessary.

And not just because she might have still wondered about his limits. About how far she should push him.

His touch drew a slight smile from her, one she hid in another kiss to his back before she rose up on tiptoes to kiss at the back of his neck. She might have argued at another time that she wasn't fragile, that she wasn't the one that needed to be treated gently, but right then she still didn't quite have a voice.

After a moment she shifted, daring to start moving so that she could be in front of him.

[destressed]

Bruce is intimately, painfully aware of his limits. He knows the exact beat per minute that things become tense and questionable, he knows the precise feeling of his blood pressure and the fine line before it becomes too much. He knows the impossibility of having any kind of extended intimacy is slim to none because the patience required to maintain those things-

It's just not going to happen.

But he can appreciate this. He can appreciate what little he can get, those first few quiet moments in the beginning, the illusion of something more. He can appreciate pretending, and he can certainly appreciate the feeling of lips at the back of his neck. It increases his heart rate one bpm, one pointed thump that has him exhaling quietly through his nose.

He shifts as she moves, as she circles him. Takes a half-step back to allow for her there beneath the direct line of spray. Water sleuths down her shoulders, around the curve of her chest. He has a hard time not following the trail, and flicks his eyes pointedly back up to hers.

This is going to end badly, he thinks. He knows. Still, even so, with the way her hair's starting to stick and to drip, with the wry curve of her mouth, maybe he'll let it end badly in... like a minute or two. He can't quite keep is hand from coming up to curl around the curve of her jaw, can't stop the pad of his thumb from brushing the corner of her lips.

[bozhemoi]

He could look. He could look as much as he wanted, and Natasha wouldn't have stopped him. She'd gotten into the shower with him. She wanted him to look, but the way her mouth kicked up at the corner showed her amusement and appreciation that he'd gone back to making eye contact.

But then her own gaze dipped and there was a slight eyebrow raised as she pushed out a breath through her nose in quiet appreciation of the scientist's body. She was human after all.

Her hand trailed over his shoulder and chest, stopping as she pressed her palm to the spot where she could feel his heartbeat. Then after a second it moved, fingers toying with his damp chest hair. He had just the right amount.

Her eyes had locked with his and she went back to holding his gaze as she turned her head just enough to kiss his thumb and then nip lightly at it.

[destressed]

And that's the problem - he could look, but he hasn't... had something like this up close and personal in so long, he's not entirely sure how well that'll go. Frankly, anyone would be a challenge but- Jesus, have you seen her? Even clothed she's a knockout.

Him, on the other hand? He's incredibly, disappointingly, startlingly average. He is inarguably the most average on the team, it's an almost hysterical difference in body composition. She's surrounded by Rogers and Thor and Clint, and yet she's in the shower with him, and the sheer idea of it makes it impossible to keep from huffing out a sort of self-deprecating laugh. Just a quiet, under-the-breath noise that comes with the shake of his head.

It's about the time that she nips at his finger that he starts to come back to reality. It pulls the first sign of a physical response from him, an absent between his legs that has him, pressing his lips together tightly. He traces fingertips down her wet shoulders, along the shoulder blades, stops at a respectful point on her waist to murmur another warning, "Natasha..."

They can't. She can't. Not without a truly staggering amount of time and an almost clinical observation and- jesus, just so much self-control.

And definitely not in Clint's shower.