bakerstreet | The Morning After Meme

Entry tags:

The Morning After Meme

MORNING AFTER MEME

Last
night was pretty wild, or maybe it wasn't. You have just woken up, but
you are not alone. Perhaps it is a stranger lying next to you, perhaps
it's someone you know. It might be your significant other, or a one
night stand. The fact remains that you are in bed together, naked and
something happened.

HOW THIS WORKS;

+ Comment with your character. Information and preferences best be included!
+ Someone replies.
+ Shit may or may not hit the fan, that is entirely up to you. You might even want to go for round 2, round 3 etc. etc.
+ Tag around!
+ Have fun and be excellent to each other!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That got an outright grin and a soft laugh, fingers sliding up to curl in the hair at the nape of her neck because he couldn't not move, couldn't not touch her somehow.

"Just don't want to risk catching a cold." He finally managed, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, turning to press a kiss to her temple before letting his head fall back again, "Because you know I'm miserable to deal with when I'm sick."

Just when she thought she had him he relaxed back to the pillows again and she stopped her movements. Of course she could do better, she could pull a full on seduction routine that would have any other man panting, but Clint knew her tricks and, besides... this was Clint. Putting on that mask with him would sully everything, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“You’re terrible,” Natasha replied. Raising her head she looked at him with an exaggerated pout. “All men are babies when they’re sick but you are the worst that I have had to deal with.”

He leaned up to kiss that outthrust lip, smiling crookedly as he settled again, one hand still petting up and back along her thigh, "I think it's because it doesn't happen often, and every time it does I'm convinced I've got some life-threatening disease."

A crooked smile followed, "You'd think I'd figure it out, but nope, never do."

She strained to hold back a smile as he kissed her pouting lip, just barely keeping it contained. Placing her hands on his chest, Natasha pushed herself up to sit, still straddling him.

“Maybe you’re just a drama queen and you thrive on the attention,” she said, reaching her arms up high over her head as she stretched, arching her back in the process and giving him a completely uninhibited view of a few of her best assets.

"Could be that too." He agreed, though he smiled as the hand at her hip slid up along her side to caress her breast, thumb rolling over her nipple in one slow sweep. He wasn't teasing, really, except for the part where he really kind of was, but it was also only fair as far as he was concerned, since she was doing the same thing and they both knew it.

His calloused fingers were always so deliciously rough, and Natasha leaned into his touch. “Or maybe you just like being taken care of every once in a while.” Dragging her nails lightly down his chest and over his abs, she swiveled her hips, rubbing against him. All was fair in love, war, and foreplay... or whatever this was considering all that had gone on before it.

He didn't really have an answer for that, except a quiet, thoughtful sound in his throat as he shifted, hips rolling up against her reflexively in response to the movement.

His hand turned over so that he could catch the now-taut nipple between his knuckles, a gentle mimic of the same hold he'd use on an arrow, running his thumb over the trapped flesh in half-idle patterns, just because he could.

Well, this was just not going to plan at all. She was supposed to be pushing him until he couldn’t take it anymore, he was already a good ways there by the feel of it while she had been completely satiated only moments ago, but at this rate she was going to be the one to give in and just ride him into the mattress.

Biting her lips to hold back a moan, her nails dug slightly into his stomach. “You are not playing fair,” she accused before reaching behind her to finally wrap her fingers around him and stroke him once, slowly, from base to tip.

He had intended to point out that she wasn't either, but words weren't working as well as they should have been right then, and instead he just made another low sound in his throat, fingers curling more tightly just for a moment as he rocked up into her touch once more, definitely inviting more of the same.

What he did finally manage to articulate, though it was little more than a pleased murmur was: "Tease."

Natasha sucked in a breath when his fingers tightened just to the edge of pain but not in a bad way. This was much closer to the victory she was striving for, and while he was still in control it was clear that it was a thin hold he had on it.

“You’re one to talk,” she said, her voice taking on a husky quality. “Why don’t you tell me what you want,” she all but purred, tightening her hand slightly around him as she reversed her stroke.

There was a soft huff of amusement at the first statement, hand sliding down to her hip once more, mostly to steady himself more than it was to steady her since she was doing just fine with that on her own.

He shook his head at the second one, smiling even as he rocked up into her touch once more, obviously interested, "Just you."

When he dropped his hand back to just hold on Natasha knew she had him. His reply, though, made her smile a little warmer than she intended. Few people in her life had ever wanted ‘just her’, because most of them didn’t know who she truly was. Not Clint, though. He knew her better than anyone else, and even in a passionate moment she could believe that he truly meant it, that it was just her, only her, that he wanted.

“You have me,” she replied, keeping the strokes slow just as he had with her earlier. “And what do you want me to do?”

He laughed softly, hands skimming down her thighs and back up again, "You really expect me to be articulate and manage both complex decision making and real-people words at a time like this? You're mean."

Though he mostly seemed to be doing just fine with the words.

Natasha’s smile widened. “I think that it is the most articulate thing you have said all morning,” she replied with a light laugh of her own. Stopping her stroke she rubbed her palm over his very tip while her free hand skimmed back up over his abs to his chest again.

“I was just giving you the option of how you wanted me, but if you’re going to start calling names...” she teased, sticking out her lower lip again as both hands ceased their movements.

He grumbled softly in the back of his throat, but he was still smiling, he couldn't not right then, "I'm comfortable as is, but I'm not going to complain if you want to move so you're not doing all the work."

He was incredibly un-picky when it came to sex, and especially when it came to sex with her. Mostly because he was of the opinion that all sex was good sex, it was just that some of it was better.

“Mm, so considerate,” she replied. Running both hands up his body now, she leaned down again to kiss him slowly, pressing her body flush against his. “And here I was going to ride you right into the mattress...”

She could easily return the favour he had done her earlier, but teasing him was just getting her worked up all over again so she was leaning toward the next round being much less of a solo effort.

He grinned, still petting her thighs, "Have I ever said no to that?" A pause, tilting his head slightly to think the question over himself, answering: "Greece doesn't count, I couldn't lay on my back then." Before she could, because he knew she'd remember it.

He was definitely interested in whatever she planned on doing, and he knew from experience that he would need a break long before she did.

Opening her mouth to say that yes, indeed he had, Clint cut her off by stating the incident first. “Okay, I suppose I can give you a pass for that one,” she said. Sucking his bottom lip in between her teeth she gave it a not so gentle nip before sitting up again and getting to her knees to position herself over him.

As much as she enjoyed teasing him and exploring every inch of his body, she truly wasn’t a patient person and she was done with the games. She was ready to get right to the main event.

He was just fine with that, really, one hand sliding up her side, just resting between her ribs and her hip, fingers splayed, while the other kneaded against her thigh, encouraging the movement that they were already both quite ready for.

Clint’s touch was encouraging and Natasha wasted no more time before slowly sinking down over him, taking him in completely. For a moment she didn’t move, just let herself adjust to the feel of him filling her, her fingertips rubbing idly at his stomach. When she did finally move it was minimal, just rotating her hips against him, her lips parting to allow a small noise of pleasure to escape.

His breath caught in his throat at that, a quiet little growl escaping at the movement of her hips, fingers pressing just a little more closely against her skin for a moment, holding on.

He was tempted to tell her to stop dawdling, but he wasn't entirely sure if that would make her do it more or not, so for the time being he didn't say anything, just shifted his own hips in turn with another quiet murmur, one that coalesced into a warm: "That's it. Perfect."

Closing her eyes she threw her head back, her fingernails lightly grazing over his abs as his fingers pressed a little harder against her flesh.

She hated the term ‘perfect’. She had heard it far too many times in her life, had too many people refer to her as such before she turned around and stabbed them in the back, sometimes literally. But here with Clint, among rumpled sheets smelling of sweat, sex, and blood, with him filling her so completely and making her feel so whole... well, this was about as close to perfect as she would ever concede.

To keep from getting too emotional or sentimental it was then that she started to move with long, slow strokes at first, the tempo increasing with each one.

And Clint? Well, he rarely said it unless he actually meant it, which was something she likely knew about him. Thinking, though was something that was rapidly losing its appeal at the moment. Clint was far more interested in feeling, though he couldn't help the grin when she started to move in earnest.

One hand stayed curled against her hip, mostly just to keep track of where she was, while the other one slid up to toy with her breast, since it was right there where he could reach it. It only took a moment to settle into the rhythm she was setting, rolling his hips in counterpoint to each of her movements.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Morning After Meme

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject