A Sock with a Hole (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sockwithahole) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2013-02-08 07:23 pm
sockwithahole) wrote in bakerstreet2013-02-08 07:23 pm
The Fluffy Smut Meme
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Smut can be fun to play, but a lot of times, you want something more. You want to play the connections between people, not just the "wham bam thank you m'am" aspect. Foreplay is fun, and relationships even more so. When feelings are involved, sex can be taken to a completely new level. This meme is for people who want a little love in their smut or something tooth-rottingly cute to play. How to Play
Prompts 1. First Time: Finally, you guys are taking the next step. You're bringing intimacy into the relationship. Hopefully, things will go well... 2. Celebration: Whether it's Valentine's Day or a birthday, today's a special day. Is there a better way to celebrate than being together? 3. Spontaneous: Maybe you're both in the kitchen, or perhaps at a friend's house for a party. Whatever the case is, you can't keep your hands off each other. You need it now. 4. Romantic Date: Isn't it nice to do something together? Question is, though, will you use the darkness of the movie theater or the space under the table to your advantage? If you can wait, there's always the bed later on. 5. Love Confession: You've just told that special person how you feel. Now, you're going to show them. 6. Trying Something New: Once your comfortable with a person, you may fall into too much of a rut. Luckily, there are many ways to spice up your love life...and not all of them involve handcuffs! Just a few of the more fun ones. 7. Reverse: The person who usually tops or instigates the contact can get a break. Today, the submissive is the dominant, because there's a degree of trust here. 8. All About You: You're going to treat the person you love to the ultimate pampering. Roses, champagne, good food- and, of course, good sex. 9. Honeymoon: You've tied the knot. It's time to consummate the relationship, even if you already have before. No judgement here; the honeymoon's a clean slate. 10. Making a Baby: Your biological clock is ticking, and you want to bring new life into the world with the person you love. The time's right, the person's right, now all you need to do is let nature take its course. 11. Fail Sex: When you've been together long enough, your special moments are bound to go wrong once in a while. Oh, well. At least this person cares for you enough not to laugh...a lot. 12. For the Last Time: What's fluff without a little angst? It's like peanut butter and jelly and goes together perfectly. The two of you are about to be separated, maybe for a long while or maybe even forever. 13. For the First Time in a While: You've been apart for what seems like ages, and now you're back together. That means you can make up for all the lost time and show your sweetheart that you still care, no matter what. 14. Making You Feel Better: So, your significance other is having a bad day, is sick, is jealous, or something else. Time to make them feel loved! 15. I'm Sorry: There was a fight. Who knows what it was over; you don't even remember? But now you feel bad, and want to patch things up. 16. Goofing Off: Not all sex has to be super serious, man. Play around, eat food in bed, watch your favorite TV show while doing the deed, whatever. Just have fun! #yolo 17. Choose Your Own Adventure | |||||||
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It's a small price to pay. That's what people say, isn't it, for those you love?)
She moves in a slow, patient kind of way, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of Clara's bed, knees folded underneath her. It takes even someone like Natasha to muster up that sense of physical courage, to lay a cool hand on the side of Clara's face. (It wouldn't be the first time she's touched her like this, but everyone knows the story wrong anyway. It happened long before Budapest.) ]
I can tell when you're not being honest.
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Except, of course, Nat can't promise that, can't tell her that this'll be the only and last time, but maybe--maybe between the two of them they might find some sort of distraction. Even an hour or two of not thinking about this and wincing away from the dark film that seems to coat every one of her thoughts, like Loki left greasy fingerprints on every bit of her mind, would be a god send.
She leans into that soft touch, into the cool, soft skin of Nat's hand and he breath shudders out of her, broken and half-hitched on what might be a sob. It might be, except that she doesn't cry, she never cries, she doesn't just lose it. Not in the daylight and certain not in a hotel room bed in the Hamptons while Billy Mays yells about something on the television]
I--I want it to stop, Nat.
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It doesn't. It never stops. [ Natasha's voice isn't unkind, but her words are delivered in a way that's born from lessons and experience. ] But it gets easier. [ Her hand shifts, if only to reach for the remote to mute the television. She moves slowly, like she's giving Clara enough time to adjust, settling her knees beside her hips and hand curling at her jaw, thumb pressed into the divot where ear meets skull. When Natasha kisses her it's almost gentle, lips parted and quiet and tender. Remember me, remember this, remember that this is real.
Stay with me. Don't you dare leave. ]
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And because it's Nat and not anyone else, she lets the touch continue, doesn't pull away, doesn't flinch.
The sudden silence after Nat's muted the TV echoes loud in the room, and just as suddenly Clara is aware of their breaths, mingled together as they are--Nat's slow and measured and steady, and her own scattered and coming in fits and starts. She means to comment on it, to say she's made a mess of things when she can't even breathe properly, but then Nat's kissing her, lips more gentle than they ever have been before, and she thinks she could drown in it, the way that Nat just fucking opens her up and steps right in.
Clara's hands reach out and cling to Natasha's sleep shirt, tangling tight into the fabric like it's some sort of lifeline--like it might be the only thing keeping her alive, but it's not the shirt, is it? It's Nat, Nat being here, touching her, keeping her grounded, proving this is as real as anything she's ever felt in her life. As real as her bow in her hands, as real as an arrow hitting it's mark.
She groans and sinks into the kiss, tongue flicking forward to taste at Nat, to remind herself what this is like, what it feels like to get lost in someone just because you adore the taste of them]
Tasha-- [It comes out sounding like a plea, but how do you beg for something when you don't even know what you want?] Nat--
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[ Natasha kisses her again. This time, when she pulls away, lips shiny and red, she trails her way down Clara's neck, nips at the pulsepoint there before mouthing at the divot of her collarbones. Her hands are already edging their way up underneath the hem of Clara's shirt, fingers light as they skim up her sides only to rest on the jut of her hipbone, tongue swirling a lazy pattern on the expanse of her stomach, right underneath her belly button.
It's not an act of permission or a request; they don't work like that. What it is is a bodily reminder, an anchoring Natasha's willing to provide along with blood and breath and whatever else she needs. (They're partners. That's how they work.) ]
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So she does. She lets go and trusts that Nat will catch her when she falls. The noise of her soft moan echoes in the room as soon as Nat's lips find her neck, and her hands clench tighter in the fabric. She wants to reciprocate, to run her hands against Nat's skin--but she feels like she's just hanging on for dear fucking life right now, and she's going to have to let Tasha drive, going to have to let her take the lead.
There's another soft noise at the feel of that tongue on her skin, and her muscles tremble under the gentleness of it all. She doesn't deserve gentle, not really, not when she's responsible for everything she did, not when she killed and maimed and destroyed all for Loki's name, but she craves it even as she wants to ask Nat for rougher, for more.
Her hands do shift then, slipping up to tangle in Nat's hair, one of them framing her jaw, thumb brushing over the sharp angle of her cheekbones]
Thank you [It comes out on an exhale, quiet and half-broken. She might not remember to say it later, so she has to get it out now, while she still has some semblance of thought]
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Natasha tips her chin to kiss Clara's palm, then her wrist. Soft and tender; once upon a time, those were things Natasha wasn't wholly sure she could be. With Clara, it comes frighteningly easy.
Bending down her body, she slowly hooks her fingers into the band of Clara's bottoms and pulls them off her hips, her thighs, her calves. Natasha's lips move just as steadily, a single press to her ankle, lips skimming up the path to the inside of her thigh where Natasha presses soft, chaste kisses, the thumb of her free hand rubbing small circles into the area just below Clara's hipbone. ]
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But Natasha's also the only one she trusts to lose that control. The only one she thinks she can risk letting go around. The tenderness steals her breath, catches it in her throat, makes her chest hitch in a way that isn't unlike crying. God, she can't do this, not without flying apart, without shattering into a thousand pieces--
The slide of her pajama bottoms--old, worn, familiar cotton--leaves her exposed and she shivers despite herself, eyes seeking out Nat in the dark and holding on to the sight of her. Her lips are like a godsend, soft spots of warmth against the chill of the room (it may not even be that cold really, everything's just cold now--like she's in alone in a place and too far from anything to get any warmth) and each one draws a soft little moan that still seems too loud in the air between them.
Her thigh trembles under Nat's touch, and her head falls back on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut before a dark face with bright eyes sneaks in and they fly open again, but Tasha's still here, still pressed against her, and she sighs, reaches a hand out and tangles it in that red hair]
Please--