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Title: I'm Yours (Ghosts & All)
Author: redbrunja
Rating: NC-17
Warning: explicit sex, brief references to human trafficking.
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Clint Barton
Author's Note: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mollivanders for 5 Acts.
Summary: When Clint stepped out of the shower, Natasha was sitting on the counter next to the sink, wrapped in one of the hotel's complementary robes, her eyes fathomless.
When Clint stepped out of the shower, Natasha was sitting on the counter next to the sink, wrapped in one of the hotel's complementary robes, her eyes fathomless.
He didn't bother with a towel, just went to her, water dripping down his body, droplets almost soundless as they hit the linoleum. She spread her knees apart and he stepped between them, kissed her, soft, gentle.
He kissed her until time slowed to a lazy crawl and he could hear his pulse in his ears, feel it pounding in his cock. He knew that too much unadulterated affection made Natasha nervous but she played along, responding to him with demure kisses that would have seemed innocent, if they hadn't been naked, if he hadn't been between her thighs.
He eased the robe down, away from her body. Nat hadn't bothered to tie the thing closed, and the terrycloth puddled around her hips, clung to her elbows.
He lowered his head, intending to take one of her nipples in his mouth, when he caught sight of his tan, scarred fingers curled over the white skin of her shoulder. Possessive. Proprietary. He almost pulled away then but Nat arched up into his touch, her hand sliding through the damp hair at the back of his head.
"I want you to eat me out," she said, and she couldn't quite make that sound like a request.
He could do that.
He wanted to do that.
Yeah.
The counter was an awkward height, but Natasha scooted herself down, tipped her hips up towards his mouth. He bent, guided one of her legs over his shoulder, and licked into her, filled his mouth with her taste.
She gasped, her hand tightening in his hair, and for one glorious instant, it was blotted out - children in shipping containers and Barney's familiar, uncaring, angry grin.
He'd made the wrong call today, he'd know it even as his finger refused to squeeze the trigger, refused to put a bullet between Barney's eyes, he'd know it as Barney was cuffed, put in the back of a police car, and he'd had no fucking doubt as he watched Natasha translate for a damaged girl with more bruises than unmarked skin.
"Fuck, just like that," Nat said, digging her heel into his shoulder blade.
He flicked his tongue across her clit and heard her teeth snap together as she shut her mouth on a moan. Normally, this would be when he'd slide his fingers inside her, his cock if Natasha was being particularly impatient, but he didn't trust his hands on her. He didn't want to see his hands on Natasha's skin. It was like the first weeks after Loki, when he'd held the thought that Natasha could and would beat him into the ground if he hurt her like a bit between his teeth, until she'd tied his hands to the headboard and rode every thought but her out of his mind.
He might ask for that again, later, but now he wanted to lose himself in the noises she made as she got close, the almost imperceptible twitches of her hips, the way her nails dug into his neck when her climax hit.
She pulled his head up before she'd finished shuddering, and her eyes looked feral for one instant before they were back to being beautiful and unreadable.
She ran her thumb along his bottom lip, the slickness there. Her leg had slipped off his shoulder, draped across his left arm.
"I should have killed him," he admitted. He could taste Natasha's sex, thick across his tongue.
"Next time you will," Natasha said pragmatically, wrapping her fingers around him. She stroked, just this side of too-hard.
If he'd done his job right today, there wouldn't be a next time.
He didn't say that. He'd wasted enough of Nat's time, letting her try and fix him like he was worth the effort. Least he could do was pretend she'd succeed.
Author: redbrunja
Rating: NC-17
Warning: explicit sex, brief references to human trafficking.
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Clint Barton
Author's Note: written for
mollivanders for 5 Acts.Summary: When Clint stepped out of the shower, Natasha was sitting on the counter next to the sink, wrapped in one of the hotel's complementary robes, her eyes fathomless.
When Clint stepped out of the shower, Natasha was sitting on the counter next to the sink, wrapped in one of the hotel's complementary robes, her eyes fathomless.
He didn't bother with a towel, just went to her, water dripping down his body, droplets almost soundless as they hit the linoleum. She spread her knees apart and he stepped between them, kissed her, soft, gentle.
He kissed her until time slowed to a lazy crawl and he could hear his pulse in his ears, feel it pounding in his cock. He knew that too much unadulterated affection made Natasha nervous but she played along, responding to him with demure kisses that would have seemed innocent, if they hadn't been naked, if he hadn't been between her thighs.
He eased the robe down, away from her body. Nat hadn't bothered to tie the thing closed, and the terrycloth puddled around her hips, clung to her elbows.
He lowered his head, intending to take one of her nipples in his mouth, when he caught sight of his tan, scarred fingers curled over the white skin of her shoulder. Possessive. Proprietary. He almost pulled away then but Nat arched up into his touch, her hand sliding through the damp hair at the back of his head.
"I want you to eat me out," she said, and she couldn't quite make that sound like a request.
He could do that.
He wanted to do that.
Yeah.
The counter was an awkward height, but Natasha scooted herself down, tipped her hips up towards his mouth. He bent, guided one of her legs over his shoulder, and licked into her, filled his mouth with her taste.
She gasped, her hand tightening in his hair, and for one glorious instant, it was blotted out - children in shipping containers and Barney's familiar, uncaring, angry grin.
He'd made the wrong call today, he'd know it even as his finger refused to squeeze the trigger, refused to put a bullet between Barney's eyes, he'd know it as Barney was cuffed, put in the back of a police car, and he'd had no fucking doubt as he watched Natasha translate for a damaged girl with more bruises than unmarked skin.
"Fuck, just like that," Nat said, digging her heel into his shoulder blade.
He flicked his tongue across her clit and heard her teeth snap together as she shut her mouth on a moan. Normally, this would be when he'd slide his fingers inside her, his cock if Natasha was being particularly impatient, but he didn't trust his hands on her. He didn't want to see his hands on Natasha's skin. It was like the first weeks after Loki, when he'd held the thought that Natasha could and would beat him into the ground if he hurt her like a bit between his teeth, until she'd tied his hands to the headboard and rode every thought but her out of his mind.
He might ask for that again, later, but now he wanted to lose himself in the noises she made as she got close, the almost imperceptible twitches of her hips, the way her nails dug into his neck when her climax hit.
She pulled his head up before she'd finished shuddering, and her eyes looked feral for one instant before they were back to being beautiful and unreadable.
She ran her thumb along his bottom lip, the slickness there. Her leg had slipped off his shoulder, draped across his left arm.
"I should have killed him," he admitted. He could taste Natasha's sex, thick across his tongue.
"Next time you will," Natasha said pragmatically, wrapping her fingers around him. She stroked, just this side of too-hard.
If he'd done his job right today, there wouldn't be a next time.
He didn't say that. He'd wasted enough of Nat's time, letting her try and fix him like he was worth the effort. Least he could do was pretend she'd succeed.
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Oh lordy lordy that was hot! good job!
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