Speaking personally, my nano is actually, shockingly, still on track. But come Dec 1st, good goddamn I going to write so much self-indulgent, smutty fanfiction. And finish my current crop of wips.
Speaking personally, my nano is actually, shockingly, still on track. But come Dec 1st, good goddamn I going to write so much self-indulgent, smutty fanfiction. And finish my current crop of wips.
no subject
no subject
no subject
I am reduced to gif-speak by the promising of porntastic porn.
no subject
SHIELD had sent her after Solviet general who'd retired with still-relevant intel and his choice of a Red Room operative, designed to his specifications. The operative had been getting too long in the tooth for the baby-doll dresses she wore but the general had still found her and her programmed affections stimulating.
Natasha had killed them both. The general had died hard and painful, his operative shrieking with such sincere grief and rage before Natasha put six bullets in her skull.
Back at the safehouse, Natasha had fucked Clint, blood still in her hair and his back against the brass headboard, her hips moving hard and vicious, her nails drawing blood from his shoulders. He'd left bruises on her thighs in the shape of his fingers and scrapped his teeth across her nipples, rough and careless.
no subject
(I'm not sure where that came from. It just seemed appropriate.)
no subject
no subject