bakerstreet | A Picture is Worth... Meme.

A Picture is Worth... Meme.

A Picture is Worth.... Meme
This ain't your mama's meme. Forget your RNG, forget your tired old prompts.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
It's easy. Comment with your character. Then go comment around.
But instead of pre-filled prompts with words or numbers, you find a gif or image (any gif/image from any canon or scenario you please) that sets the scene.
The picture is the prompt.

WARNING: THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY. AND POSSIBLY NSFW AND THERE MAY BE TRIGGERS.
Some images will not be able to be hidden behind cuts, so please be aware that triggery material may be found within.

If you post an image that is violent or sexual in nature please LINK it, do not embed it into the comment.

Feel free to use this template to stick your image in there.

Good resources for images/gifs are weheartit or tumblr. For not so safe for work gifs/images go here and here.

Original Meme here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[ It's a comforting thing to know that he was already shivering before, so whatever he's doing right now is probably still totally related to that and not anything she happens to be doing right now. While she isn't as warm as she could be, she's still infinitely better than what he had going on before, all swaddled in the blanket by himself like he was, and he really can't help the way he flattens and reaches for her, rises up to meet her where necessary, trying to eke out every single last bit of contact she's offering, like a starving man lying on a table of food. Or... some better way for that metaphor to go. ]

Good survival skills. [ God, there's a little actual warmth happening, he's far too happy about that. ] Thank you.

[The shivering doesn't bother her, whether it be shivering from the cold, or possible trembling in an effort to do whatever - like controlling his body's natural response to proximity and nudity. She's comfortable enough with herself, and the fact that he's going to get closer once he relaxes a little and realizes that it's helping.

She moves the leg that's on top, sliding it up the outside of his legs and then back down, repeating the movement to create the same frictional warmth effect that she has going on with her hand on his back.

That tiny smile finds it's way to her lips again and she gives a tiny shrug of her shoulders, which in turn moves her chest against his.]

Siberian winters leave you little choice than to have excellent survival skills.

[A nod is all the acknowledgement she gives to the thanks. Good to know that just just had to get you naked to stimulate coherent conversation, even if it is minimal. She won't admit it, but his previous silence was a bit disconcerting.]

This little shack is luxurious compared to some of the places I've had to use this method.

[She rests her cheek against his.]

You're starting to feel warmer, and without a draft in here, it can only get better...

Edited (What is spelling?) 2012-11-23 17:54 (UTC)

[ It's probably like, 90% from the cold. Maybe 80%. Okay, maybe 65%, but that's my final offer.

It's not really going to get any better with her moving around like that either, just saying. He can't really tell whether or not he should be getting closer or backing off, so he just stays where he is for the moment, appreciating the warmth, feeling himself start to get back up to par and thaw out a little. Actually, for that matter, he's just realized: ] That's not too cold, right, the reactor, right on your... skin like that. You don't have to.

[ Ehh, whatever. If it was cold and bothering her he retroactively assumes she would have mentioned something. ] Well, those sound like stories that ought to be shared with the rest of the class.

[ Oh okay that works too. ] Better, or warmer?

[65% sounds reasonable, not even going to haggle.

It's like...she's trying to make this as awkward as possible for him, only in all honesty she's really not. She is simply trying to make sure he gets nice an warm, because whether she'd say so or not, having some sort of company is better than being alone in the cold.

She shakes her head, the reactor is cool against her skin, but it like everything else should warm as time goes on.]

It's fine. I don't mind. [Which basically translates into she wants to, so stop worrying about it, because if she didn't you'd probably be alone and still freezing. It's okay that your flustered, Tony, just... breathe and try not to be have too much like a scared animal. She might just eat you up.]

Perhaps.

[Though, for now that's all she says on the subject. Moving her head to rest on the arm of sofa, so that she might look at him, she offers a little smile.]

I suppose that depends, on what you might consider better.

[The offer might be there, if he can figure out the right way to approach it. She stills her leg, and uses her foot to simply rub the back of his thigh, the hand previously occupied with warming his back switches to a slower more lazy movement while she watches him.]

Better would certainly be warmer, but warmer... might not qualify as better.

[ kind. and he does sort of feel like that's the thing that's happening here, but honestly even with the erotic aspect of her movements he just feels like he's thawing out and getting warmer and coming back to himself and he isn't about to object based on something that honestly, he doesn't really have that much of a problem with. Nudity? Please. Granted, at the moment really his objection is to her, and his inability to account for her motives, and the fact that he knows how goddamn dangerous she is at any single given moment in time. And he's so vulnerable at the moment. So very. ]

Ah. Cool. Good, I mean. Good.

[ He looks back over at her, mostly. Considering. ]

Better's good. It seems the option most worth choosing, at any rate. I think the leg was warmer.

[The sexual aspect of their current situation is, in part, relative to survival. She'd be more dangerous if she thought that his capacity to survive was compromised, at which point she would probably not even try. At this point though, she sees fit to do what needs to be done to keep his body temperature up. And if that means more than just some suggestive touching, then it's your lucky day, Tony.

In that same respect, vulnerability is relative to his warmth. Once he's warmed up enough to process what is going on he'll be back to normal again and probably won't even be think twice about what is going on. Or at the very least that's how she rationalizes things.

She shifts against him, pressing in closer in all the right places, and slides her foot down his leg again, then back up resting it on his hip and hold him to her. Molded against him, her hand drifting down his side. Her expression with the almost fond softness to it, might suggest a coy sort of innocence, if he didn't know her as well as he does.

A long moment passes from the time he finishes speaking to the time her fingers make the slow sweep back up along his rips, before moving to rest on his cheek, her eyes search his briefly before she moves, lips brushing his lightly at first, feeling him out before sealing against his. Gentle fingers coax along his jaw in an effort to relax and open him up to her.

She takes her time, with carefully exploring tongue, not too much but enough of a fleeting taste and light touch to his to be an invitation for more should he choose to take it. Then when she breaks the kiss, she gives his bottom lip teasing nibble and smiles, whispering.]

Better?

[ She presses in closer and he does his best to resolutely not move in reaction to that at all, even though he'd dearly like to - and probably clearly like to, given the utter lack of response he has to her movements there. He just can't seem to get around the Danger, Will Robinson, Danger aspect of being in this situation with her in general. He trusts her not to kill him (unless it will save the lives of a few dozen civilians). He trusts her to be good at what she does, and knows she won't talk about it later. There are things he has faith in her about. They exist. His current buck-naked proximity to her own similar state and proximity is sadly, not one of these times when his faith is all that clear.

His own arms are either being used as a pillow for his head, or are sort of behind him, resting on his own hip, because touching her is still an 'ehhh' area. But as that hand of hers slides up his ribs - ooh, ticklish, ahh - and up to his cheek, his own hand somewhat tentatively, smoothly, quickly slides forward to rest on her own hip, so very, very close to his own right now. Little steps. Carefully made.

Tony wasn't really expecting to be kissed but he can't say he's surprised by it with the high levels of innuendo in the air between them. He allows her the time to feel him out - in all honesty, he loves being feeled out, or explored; loves opening up slowly, incrementally, to people like that - opens to let her explore, only darting towards her own mouth once or twice to see what she'll do but mostly allowing a slow acquaintance.

And nnnnn the nibble. God. He's trying not to react physically to all of this but he's tired, and cold, and she's going things like that, and he's seriously been awake too long and he's exhausted but not that much and in all honesty a little bit more and he won't be able to prevent himself from it. And she'll know. She'll definitely know, all pressed up along him like that. ]

It's a good start. Are you still cold? Should I try for you now?

[Things could be worse. They could be trapped in some Siberian shit hole with nothing at all to keep them warm, but pure will and flimsy hope. This could have been not so many years ago when her survival was paramount over anyone else's. She's not the same as she once was, she's better, more compassionate and there are time, yes, that she wonders if that is better, but she made her choices. For the most part she's content with them. He should, additionally, be grateful it's her, and not someone else like perhaps Barton, who would probably never dream of putting himself in a position like this. She's almost sure he'd rather die than risk possibly being caught naked with Tony.

So there's that.

Dear god, he's ticklish? That is humorous, if she were felling in a more playful mood she might exploit that weakness a little, but for now she files the knowledge away for a later date- in case there is a later date. If things go well, there could be a later date, maybe. By well, obviously, that would mean they didn't die, of course.

She's easy going and considerate of his trepidation, sympathetic even, she knows she's not the easiest person to get along with, and that at times she can come across as cold and frightening. Allowing him his careful exploration she doesn't hold it against him that he's being cautious, hell she actually sort of applauds him for it. She would definitely wonder what was going on if he dove in head long.

Mmmthere see? He touched her and his hand didn't melt off, or get amputated cleanly by some weapon she had hidden somewhere best left to the imagination. Her skin is soft and warm-ish, under his hand. To her he feels at least a few degrees warmer than she does, which is reassuring, since she's more used to being cold, and more able to handle it.

She wets her lips, gazing back at him with bright eyes and an expression that is equal parts relief and interest.]

Good. I'm fine, but if you wish to try I'm sure I could always be better.

[And so it seems, 'better' has become the comfortable choice of words for whatever it is that is going on here. Funny how that works out.]

[ In his opinion, this feels quite a lot like some sort of Siberian-esque shit hole with nothing but a flimsy blanket and pure determination to stay warm. He doesn't have nearly the same sorts of experiences she does with cold - his cold was in the middle of a desert, which, while still hilariously cold, almost can't be on par with a Siberian anything by sheer virtue of longitude. But still. It's pretty cold. And it's cool, because he almost trusts Clint in this kind of situation even less than her, which is a strange thing to think about.

Shut up, he can't help it. Most people are. He thinks. It seems like it anyway. You'd better not try and use that against him or he'll... figure out some sort of mildly irritating comeback that will hopefully in itself not be found worthy of retaliation. So there.

More often than not, Tony does run a little hot, so that makes sense, but it just means that he tends to feel temperature differences a little faster. Generally it's heat that annoys him more than cold, but this kind of cold? This is a little more drastic than just a chilly room, and it's much harder to deal with for someone who is accustomed almost solely to carefully climate controlled indoor areas. He'd probably climate control a beach if he could figure out a way to feasibly do it. Soft and warm-ish are good, but having finally touched her, there's a small barrier that's fallen, and his hand moves up and down a bit to try and do for her what she was doing for him. Frictional warmth just to get things going.

And that reply gets a bit of a narrowed look - not deeply so, just the kind that accompanies someone who is weighing options and tracking a mental chain-of-events and doesn't typically do much to suppress their facial expression in the process.

But, better. Better he can do. Better's easy; he's got a reputation for better in both senses of the word here, so hopefully better should be quite doable. It's not too many moments before he's made a decision - really, there's only the one choice here anyway, let's be honest - and he moves to close the gap between them again, such as it is. Kissing is generally a good place to get things started from, and while he doesn't go at it with as much brashness as he normally might, there's still some experience at hand in the calmer, cautionary approach. His turn to explore a little more, more deeply acquainting himself with her movements, hand sliding over her hip and around her back by habit, staying close. ]

[They'll have to take a vacation there. Show him what happens when you get dumb and eat the snow instead of melting it down for water. He can even have his own snow bank coffin. Sounds like a good time. They should do that next time. Clint can be pretty scary when he wants to be, she doesn't blame him at all there.

She's not. But then again she's not like most people, in any number of ways. She may have been... at one time, but she isn't now. But please she welcomes any thing you might come up with, and if, in fact, it is worthy, she'll even let it stand at that.

It's a deep all over cold that settles in your bones. It's the sort of cold that lingers long after the fire is burning and the room is warm. It stays with you, making everything difficult. She knows. She knows this sort of cold well. And ohyes.. that is nice... it's not enough, but it's a start, and maybe that's simply the human contact, the knowledge that despite what worries him about her he's open to at least trying. Whatever it is, his hand feels so very nice, and warm- for the most part.

She studies his face, he has, for as long as she's known him, displayed a good part of what he was thinking for everyone to see. It's honest, where sometimes the man himself isn't. She can appreciate that.

She likes better, she really does. She matches his pace, easy and careful, letting him feel her out, because she can give just as easily as she can take. Her hand, first gently on his cheek, then curling around the back of his head, fingers stroking through his hair. The other works it's way out from under her, the tips of her fingers brush feather light and teasing across his lower belly.]

[ no that doesn't sound like how he likes to spend his vacations at all, actually, no wonder you seem so angry all the time, you have a backwards concept of vacations and stuff, they're supposed to be fun and nice, unless you're camping or at disneyanything in which case you have taken a vacation for the express purpose of making the rest of your life seem way more bearable in comparison

She really isn't, but it's that aspect to her that makes her... really interesting, and all the stereotypical 'good at her job', 'exceptional', 'unique', yadda yadda. There are ways that most of the people on the team are unlike most people, but in her case it seems like a different set of unlikes than some of the others who overlap a bit more.

Of course he's open to trying - he's oblivious and a dick but he's not actually a terrible person who would make someone else freeze because they worried him. (This is a mild overreaction because neither one of them would be on a team of superheroes if they actually distrusted each other that much. Right?)

That's encouraging, the hands, and the skin and muscles below her fingertips twitch and contract accordingly - not much, but the teasing and the temperature are enough to react to. And he gets a little more comfortable, a little more insistent, tries to get a little closer because yes, warmth, in multiple manners, and either one is always a good thing in his opinion, mostly. On her back, his hand pulls her towards him, fingers splayed and tips adding pressure, before returning to their somewhat distracted up and down. ]

[She... would not do well at Disneyanywhatever... No, not at all. All those happy people, the costumes. It might end up the Disneyanywhatever Massacre. Mickey Mouse's head displayed on the wall of the Enchanted Castle as a warning for anyone who ever comes near that god awful happy place again.

But then again that could be fun~

(One would like to hope that they wouldn't be on a team of anything if they didn't at least have some measure of trust between them. Hell, she even waited to the absolute last second to close the portal, because she just knew he'd make it back. So, regardless of the exterior she presents, and yes she has issues with trust, but she's wouldn't be here if she didn't care on some level.)

Hmm.. closer is better. Closer is warmer, and lovely. She hums soft and approving, as she adjusts herself against him, closer. Closer, because he's warmer and he's asking her too. The leg she has thrown over his hip, hooks him more tightly against her. Every brush of his fingers on his back is oddly warming, partly for the simplest reason, and partly because they're a whispering little reminder that there is so much more going on here.

Maybe, just maybe this is one of those things she might have thought about on a few occasions since they've known each other. Then again, maybe not, but either way they're here now and she can't think of any good reason not to. If he can, he's welcome to stop them.]

[ .....no no she is categorically not allowed to ever set foot in any disneyanything. Ever.

Closer is quite better, he agrees. Closer is warmer, and closer is approving, and closer is tighter, and mmmm, tighter is so much better. His fingers are still moving, palm smoothing over skin, adding warmth, fingers sliding across it, tips pressing in and pulling her to him still. The arm he's basically just been lying on up to now he pulls out a bit between them, sliding it down around her hip on the cushions and meeting the skin there, trying to see if there's a place where her curves don't quite meet the cushions that he can slide it through further. If not, he can always find something else to do with it. He'll have to be creative though, the choice between up or down when you start near the navel is quite difficult.

Well, he's... him, so it isn't as though he hasn't considered it before either. Considered it when she was Natalie, still considered it after she became Natasha, even more after he got a glimpse of how she was out in the battlefield. She's quite agile. Nubile. But it wasn't something he'd ever thought would go anywhere at least until they seemed to be able to have a decent conversation about something innocuous, like.... Pizza. Or Steve, without it feeling like some sort of Halo minefield sparring area. So, no, he doesn't really have any particular inclination to stop, not now that she's shown off how warm she is, and what a good kisser she is, and he doesn't want to move away awkwardly into the cold with the start of a boner because that just seems like it would be several shades of disappointing and unsatisfying. ]

[Likely for the best.

An easy move in for another kiss, a touch more urgent and just a little more forceful, her hand sliding down his stomach, passed coarse curls to curl around his definitely not soft cock. She follows the careful grip with a twist of her hips, pushing him down from the top so she settles over him. Laid stretched out over him, she lifts her hip just enough to make room for her hand to slide up and down his length.

If there was any doubt at all of intentions, she sure as fuck hope she's cleared those up. Now, it's a matter of deciding if he intends to stay like this, which, while acceptable, will possible at some point find her having to break the skin to skin contact and sit up a little straighter. Should he be inclined to flip them, she won't argue, it might, in fact, prove to be a preferable solution to that pesky needing to stay warm issue.

However, at the moment she's inclined to stay just like she is, because between his dick and her, is her hand and while it's not exactly the best form of stimulation, she's fully capable of making it work, to a point.

Inhaling a breath, a little gasp, as she breaks off the kiss, she looks down at him, her hair framing her face, her eyes moving over his face with interest, taking cues and watching for any signs of disapproval. He has her attention just as much as she probably has his right now.

Let the games begin! Because we all know how easy it is to answer questions and be given commands when a deadly assassin has your cock in her hand.]

Wanna give me a hand or would you rather I do all the work myself?

[There you go, now he knows what he can do with the hand he was trying to think of a creative use for.]

[ Excellent, urgent, forceful, both very good things and wow okay that was a little faster than he was expecting. Tony rolls onto his back fairly easily, owing to obvious convincing things underway and the sheer pliability that comes with a, being sort of surprised, and b, being pretty pliable in these situations anyway.

And yes, this is quite clear now, thank you, no need to worry. It's pretty likely that whenever things do get a little more underway and she shows signs of sitting up that he will flip them over if only to prevent that space from being required. Everything's working just fine right now though, yes, and the look on his face is yet again - or, still, rather - fairly indicative of his feelings in the moment on things. His eyes are a little wider, a little darker, lips parted since the kiss ended, and watching her very intently, because on the one hand there's something incredibly hot about all of that, and on the other that whole deadly-assassin-with-my-cock thing that's been mentioned.

The second it takes before he starts moving to make use of that direction is either from lag courtesy of stimulation, renewal of mild cautiousness at the shift in the situation, or because he's trying to figure out what to do first. For the moment, he slides it from her hip to her stomach, hand stretching over as much of it as he can, briefly, before curving up over her ribs and then back down her side through the length of her thigh. Hand settling on top, he lets it fall to the inside a bit more as he moves it back proximally. ]

[All the better a little pliability can go a long way. Even more so when staring in the face of someone like her. She's every bit as deadly as she is gentle and careful. And while its best not think about the things these hands have done, it's also just as easy to find ones self in a simple sort of awe that hands like hers can be so soft. A tender caress of more than capable hand, taking in all the tell-tale cues she gets from everything she can take in of his. His expression. Patterns of breathing. The subtle changes in his pulse. The shift in the entire atmosphere between them.

No. No. Don't renew caution now please don't. Because his hand is warm as it skims over her skin, it's warm enough to raise goosebumps along the flesh it's come in contact with and make the muscles in her stomach jump with anticipation Jim the path just a head of it. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it slightly. His hand on her thigh, drifting along it.

Don't be afraid of her. She's just a woman who wants him. Her body reaction in much the same way as his, though she ignores the sound of her own heart to focus on just him. So don't worry. Not when his fingers are so deliciously close. Please don't. Okay? Just let go.

She moves her leg.. Just enough, and eager little move to open up. To give a little more room, and hey, maybe it's a little needy, but fuck it she's a touch desperate for a little contact. He is the one currently getting pretty much all of the attention and she can't have that. So, it's a subtle things, the little ones she does without any thought. A slight lifting of her hips, or a little drifting lean toward his hand. She smirks, a tiny little lift of the corners of her lips, before she grabs his hand with her free one and guides it back, her fingers curling his and then moving away. She's warmer there than anywhere else, a constant humid warmth that flairs at the first little brush of his fingers, and shows the first little signs of any sort of weakness in her carefully constructed armor that she surrounds herself with.]

[ It's partially caution, partially playing with her, but mostly caution. He's remaining as he is, but his hand on her is both learning the curves and lines of her body and growing acquainted with them. It's not difficult to let her move his hand back to where she wants it, and he doesn't have a problem exploring and moving there instead. He slides two or three fingers inside her, curling to meet a cluster of nerves and stimulate them. He's well acquainted with this sort of thing, just not with her, somehow, and right now, he's not sure how they've never done this before. Like really. ]

You're fucking gorgeous, you know that. I don't -- Know what to say beyond that.

[She makes a satisfied sound when he complies, a slightly bigger one when his fingers move against her. Her breath catching completely as he slides them into her. Everything stops for a moment- a brief beat. Her heart, her hand, everything all together just... ceases.

Except his hand.

When she comes back to herself she huffs a little laugh, smiling at him- her thigh is twitching, every perfect curl of fingers causing it to tremble slightly.]

Yes, but it is nice to hear.

[Why... did it have to take this to put them here, when it could have just as easily have been any number of other times? Possibly because somethings... are just so much better when you wait.]

[ He likes the noises she makes as he does the right things - it makes him more likely to seek out similar right things and do them in turn. Although right now, sort of preoccupied. Fingers inside her working a steady rhythm, her own hand by this point either gone or motionless on his cock, which is fine, he has a thing about reciprocation anyway, but he doesn't care one way or the other. He just loves the look on her face, unguarded and pleasured, even if for a moment, and after her words he simply curls his fingers a little bit more, a tease, because leaving them entirely back to normal, a rhythmic in and out. In and out. Come on. ]

[He's lucky, because while she doesn't make much noise, the ones she does make are well earned. And yes, her hand did fall away, but only out of distraction and not out of lack of wanting to continue. Instead it's now curled around the forearm of the one he's teasing her with. Not to stop it, oh hell no, she's holding it to keep him there, to give him an encouraging squeeze when he stops. And then again, when he moves again.

Damn it... Before... it was blissfully perfect. In that, steady and easily building sort of way. Now? Fuck... while she's not complaining because, god.. whether she likes or not- he practically has her figured out- she is frustrated by how quickly he managed to 'make' her.

Though, if she's honest it isn't that hard to figure out what it is she might really enjoy in certain situations. Always so rigid and controlled in everything else she does. Yes, someone tuned in to that might expect that-- well, the unexpected would be a major part of how she likes to unwind. (Funny how that term when used in this situation is a misnomer. The quiet building tension is anything- but unwinding, really.. At least up until the point where it finally does spill over.)

She does not growl at him, not even a little, ~~oh yes, yes she does- though it is weak and barely counts as a growl~~, she does shoot him a tiny and pleading look. It's completely lacking any of her normal edge, it's pure and honest, and lost for a moment as she, in a moment of agonizing desperation, tries to shift back against his hand when he tries to draw his fingers out.

The sound she makes is new- compared to the other ones she's give him so far. It's a little needy, and perhaps a lot desperate. But, god damn it you slowed down, while not a major issue-- it sort of is a major issue right now because fuck.]

[ Well earned noise is almost just... even better. Having to work for it, knowing that it's not forced - from the woman who fooled him for just under a year, made him think she was entirely someone else, nearly got to this point once or twice (or so he'd thought, at the time) - knowing that this, now, was genuine. Well, that just gets him hotter, a flush hitting his neck and spreading down his chest - the design around the arc reator being somewhat remarkable where scar tissue refused to change colour and new skin changed far more than it ought to've done - it tapers out as it starts to hit his stomach, the blood in that area having another job to do.

She seems a bit more frustrated now, but not unhappy with his current actions, and so he keeps them up for the most part, adding creativity here and there, especially when she ~~does not~~ growl at him, because that's just all grades of ooh baby give it to me. The pleading, okay. Sure. He employs something learned through experience, shifting his hand just this one way to try and help, no longer removing his hand at all and simply bringing her to completion as quickly - but powerfully - as he can. ]

[Sometimes she is capable of constructing such elaborate and well played lies that even she starts to believe them herself. This though? This is completely honest, it's open and though still a bit restrained it is just for him- as a result of his actions. So there's that.

The hand not clamped around his forearm, in an effort to keep him where she wants him, traces over the patterns across his chest at least until she's far too distracted to maintain the slow moving sweep of her fingers and she simply drags her nails down his ribs.

Everything about that sound she made is screaming for him to- Oh! Yes.- She moans and writhes back against his hand, dropping her head to his shoulder, biting down as talented fingers push her passed caring about boundaries or appearances. Her core tightens around his fingers, her thighs around his waist.

She whines quietly against his neck urging him on, whispering for just a little more- justalittlejustalittlebitmore- She arches off his chest, her climax hitting her hard and forcing a low breathless moan, from her lips. Fuck. And they're only barely getting started.

Relaxing against him, her hear is pounding in her chest - fluttering and rapid- and she's it's a clear in his ears as is in hers. The Ex-Russian shifts, catching his bottom lip with her teeth tugging at it hard, then sucking at it to sooth it. She smirks, it's a touch lazy, but clearly no where near ready to quit 'playing'.]

Are you better? Because I'm much better, but I think... we still have a little work to do to make you better too.

[ He appreciates the honesty, because for all his lying and all his distracting other people with flash and substance, Tony tends to be an oddly truthful person, if not in words and plain actions then at least in his reactions instead. This kind of intimacy? Nearly entirely made out of reactions, and so to be in such an honest, vulnerable state, while the other person involved is maintaining some sort of facade - that would suck, actually. He would really dislike that.

The dragging nails get her a soft hiss, because after messing with all those scars like that, tracing them - some are old, no feeling, and some have newer skin, more sensitive than the rest - his nerves are starting to overstimulate. That and he just appreciated the feeling, what it meant, coming from her.

But honestly it's that look of her, arching off and away from him, tight tight around him, inside and out, and the moan - that's the reward there, and he can't help but grin a little bit, because he does enjoy being able to do that to someone else. It's just better that it's her, because she never shows so much like that. The grin is still there, in the corners, as she comes back to him, toying with his lip, then smirking herself. ]

I'm hotter. Happier. Harder than I would have thought possible considering how cold I remember it being in here. But it's not cold anymore, is it?

No, not cold at all. Things are definitely heating up nicely.

[She might still be a little breathless, more so from the anticipation of taking this a step further. She hums an approving sound as she slides against him shifting up his body, just enough to align them properly.

A simple little movement, graceful and almost effortless. She pauses there, just barely rocking against him, the tip of his cock pushing against her, her slick opening stretching around the blunt tip- then the almost satisfaction is gone, replaced with a breath of eager longing before she rocks back against him again. With each return she accepts a little more-

then a little more--

She claims his lips with hers again, a hard hungry kiss, full of teeth and eager breaths. Then she slowly sinks down on him; wet, warm and tight, she huffs against his mouth and pulls back to watch him for a moment.

Blinking down at him, she holds him there not moving- not yet- inviting him to either wait for her to decide it's time to move or grip her by the hips, well, make her. It's almost a challenge. A tiny little battle of wills. Has he let go of his hesitation enough now to take matters into his own hands? Or does she still have a little work to do?

Her head drops to his neck her lips sliding over the flushed flesh there, then down his chest- hitting pattern of his scars with soft kisses and an occasional drag of teeth or flick of her tongue.]

[ His face shifts into one of expectation, of anticipation, and he swallows as she brings them so so very close to each other properly, barely bothering to even breathe as he looks up at her, waiting. And then she does move, and his eyes are glued to the look in hers as she brings them closer and closer together. He's given himself over to the kiss so freely by the time she's fully on him that he takes a moment to recover when she does stop kissing.

Staring up at her for a moment, it looks like she's daring him to try something. And she's not moving. He shifts, out of impatience, hands on her hips forcing a rocking movement with his own shift and rotation that he, at least, rather likes - he's not sure how well she does, but it doesn't involve pulling out and ramming back in, both of which seem like chilly concepts from his point of view.

But when she drops to pay attention to his chest - the closer she gets to the reactor the less he seems to move - right now. In other moods, this is not the case. That gets his breath going a little more, chest tightening when she goes over a particularly sensitive area, screwing up his rocking rhythm thing. ]

A Picture is Worth... Meme.

do i get gold stars for sarcasm i could have a whole cosmos by now

Yes. Yes, you do.

yessssssssssssssssssssss deal

/stamp of approval

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/o\ /flees

what why, why fleeing, no don't go

I scared myself off with my terrible writing.

what are you even talking about

I'm ridiculous... and clearly just insecure and silly?

but i still love you okay

Best Birthday~ \o/

========~~ candle

========*** /blows it out :D

o// o// /applause

I read that as applesauce.

understandable.

I'm the worst partner in the history of horrible partners.

no you are not you are wholly worth waiting for okay

<3 ilu you're too good to me.

because i looooooooooooooooove you

Nawww... Don't mind me.. I'm going to sit over here and bask in your love. and cry about my awful.

gdi i thought i'd replied to this already my bad

<3

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