#six sexy words meme round 4
Note
For Six Sexy Words, could I please get Romanogers with 37, 46, 47, & 88 (any single one or a combination of them). Work your magic, Chanty! (;
“Married Romanogers - #88 , #52 , #34 , #96” and “Married Romanogers - #73 , #82 , #86 , #95 thank you” requested by @sleepygrimm
“hey, can you do a captasha where they are hiding in a safe house and break the wobbly bed after some well deserved fucking?? tysm” requested by an anon
also inspired by this gif (nsfw) from this edit by @sleepygrimm
34. Pressing my face between your legs. + 37. Fucking with the window wide open. + 46. Holding your hands above your head. + 52. Sleep in with me this morning. + 73. Watching in the mirror while fucking. + 82. Come for me. I will watch. + 86. Watching him thrust himself into you. + 88. Wake me up with your kisses. + 96. I will have you for breakfast.
1.8k 2k follower celebration!
He hums against her spine, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick her shoulder blade as his lips twitch into a smile. “I know you’re awake,” he murmurs, sending a gentle, tingling vibration across her skin, and she barely fights off the urge to shiver as it makes her nipples harden, makes her stomach tighten. His body is large and firm and curved around her from behind, surrounding her with his warmth and his scent and his muscles, almost smothering her, and she loves it far more than she thinks she should.
“Back to sleep,” she mumbles despite the way her heart quickens, despite the way her breath hitches. She’s deeply, delicious sore down to her bones in the way only four days alone with Steve in a safe house in the middle of nowhere can make her, and she’s not quite sure how her body can ache in protest and crave with want at the same time. “Sleep in with me this morning,” she whispers as she squirms in his arms, trying to bury herself deeper into the mattress, into him.
“No,” he replies, his lips sliding lower, slowly, pressing a kiss over every inch of skin as he follows the curve of her spine. Her body coils in response, her sex fluttering, her breaths growing quicker and her folds grow wetter. His hand slips up her thigh, over her hip to the dip of her waist, slowly - so fucking slow - until his palm is flat against her shoulder, gently pushing her onto her stomach.
He kisses the small of her back, the curve of her ass, and her stomach flutters and tightens as his breath ghosts over the wet folds of her sex.
“Hold your hands above your head.”
A throaty laugh falls from her lips, dissolving into a moan as his tongue darts out to lick a broad stripe from her little bundle of nerves to the entrance of her sex. Her body bows off of the bed, her fingers grasping at the bed sheet as she’s pushing her face into the pillow and moaning, long and low. He licks her once, twice, three times, his calloused hands gripping at her thighs, not quite gripping them but letting her skin tingle in the anticipation of his bruising hold.
“Nat,” he says, his voice firm and a little bit amused as he pinches her calf. She jolts slightly, glancing over her shoulder at him, and, fuck - it should be a crime for him to smile like that, with her arousal glistening on his lips, against his chin, his eyelids half-closed and his eyes dark and stormy. He holds her gaze as he’s sliding his hands between her legs, rubbing at her bundle of nerves, and it’s as if every part of her throbs all at once. Her mouth parts as he draws slow, lazy circles over her clit, with just enough pressure to make her shake with pleasure but not nearly enough pace to bring her any sense of relief.
She arches one eyebrow in a challenge - because it wouldn’t be her, wouldn’t be them, if she didn’t disobey his orders just a little - and he mimics her.
“Hands above your head,” he repeats, and she bites on her lower lip, hard, as she lifts her hands to grip the metal bars of the headboard. The entire frame of the bed is old and rickety, creaking with their every move, and she’s surprised it’s survived them for this long.
He licks at her again, harder, firmer, and without the muffle of the pillows, her moan echoes through the small bedroom of the safe house. She knows that the window is wide open from last night when the air had grown too stuffy, and even though they’re in the middle of nowhere, with miles and miles between them and the closest traces and civilization, there’s still a part of her that relishes in the thought of being heard. His tongue curls, dipping into her, and her fingers tighten around the bars of the headboard. She has no real leverage in this position, not with Steve’s grip tight on her hips, holding her in place as he pulls her apart with every lick and suck, and she knows that’s the point.
She arches her spine, tipping her head back and mewling as she feels her body start to shake, tingling, humming with pleasure. Her arms quiver in her effort to keep herself upright, but Steve doesn’t relent, groaning against her folds as he pushes her closer and closer to that edge, until it’s bursting over her in a rush of white-hot pleasure. Her cry echoes off of the walls as one of her hands slips, falling to the bed in an attempt to brace herself the waves of sensation crash over her.
And of course, of course Steve still doesn’t relent, dragging out her high with firm strokes of his tongue, lapping up her release until he finally pulls away from her with a sharp, shaky exhale. She feels him move behind her, feels his body curving over hers, his chest pressing into her back as one of his hands covers hers where it’s still gripping onto the headboard. He kisses the top of her spine and rolls his hips, dragging the hard length of him through her wet folds. Her body jolting, quivering, and she hears him murmur something into her shoulder that she doesn’t catch.
She can’t focus on anything except the way he’s rubbing over her clit, sparking her oversensitive nerves with more pleasure, making her sex ache, making her nipples harden and her stomach tighten. His hand slides down and into her hair and twists, and she gasps as he tugs her head to the side - not enough to hurt but enough for her to feel the command, and, complying, her eyelashes flutter open to look at where he’s turned her. Her heart stutters in her chest when she catches their reflection in the crooked mirror on the wall. It’s old and cracked and hazy in certain spots, but the sight of them - of him over her, surrounding her, grinding against her - is still as clear as day.
His grip on her hair tightens just a little, his eyes holding her stare in the reflection, and she knows what he’s asking.
Watch in the mirror while I fuck you.
Watch me thrust into you.
She whimpers, nodding, and he twists her neck a little more so he can kiss her on the lips. It’s gentle and soft and almost innocent, somehow, despite the way he’s pressing into her entrance, and despite the fact that the buzz from her first orgasm hasn’t entirely worn off when he starts pushing in. She glances back at the mirror, watching as he sinks into her, inch by inch. Her lips part in a wide circle, her eyelids fluttering but not quite falling closed, and, fuck, fuck. It’s not as if she could forget what it feels to have him in this position, in this angle, but every first thrust is almost a little too deep, a little too much. And she knows that’s why he holds himself back, giving her a chance to catch her breath as he pulls back out, almost all the way the tip, before sinking back in. She can feel how his muscles are taut in restraint, feels his shaky, shallow breaths against the back of her neck, but she knows he won’t do anything more until she’s ready.
His hands move to grip her hips again, his fingers digging into her flesh, and the small bite of plain feels so fucking perfect that she almost whines. The band on his finger glistens in the reflection, catching her eye, and it’s like she can’t say his name fast enough.
“Steve.”
He groans, snapping his hips, and she cries out as his thrusts quicken from gentle to bruising before she can even blink. He tightens his hold on her, angles her hips so he can sink in deeper, harder, with every thrust, and she’s almost mesmerized with watching it in the reflection. Watching the way almost every ounce of tension seems to leave his muscles as he grinds into her roughly, almost harshly, not an ounce of him holding back. She only ever sees him this unhinged, this completely vulnerable, when it’s just them completely lost in each other like this. She’d told him once that he’d needed an outlet, and she loves that he chose her. She loves that he knows she can take it.
She loves him.
And she’s so distracted with watching them, so caught up in watching him fuck her, that her second orgasm takes her by surprise. It makes her gasp as it rushes through her, washing over her and pulling her under, and she drops her other hand from the headboard to hold herself up as she unravels at the seams. The force of pleasure is almost too much, pinning down on her and nearly making her legs give out from under her, but then Steve’s hand is in her against, twisting, his other arm winding around her and pulling her up.
He draws her to his chest, shifting her so that she’s sitting on top of his thighs as he continues to thrust into her, harder, deeper, the change of angle making him brush roughly against that sweet spot that has her mewling out, has her seeing stars. One of her hands hooks over the back of his neck, her nails digging into his skin, and her other hand grasps at his hair and tugs.
“Come for me, love,” he whispers, his voice hot against the shell of her ear as his hand slides down her stomach to find her clit. She lets out a keening moan as her body shudders, and, through the haze of unrelenting pleasure, she can feel his thrusts growing more erratic; he’s close, but he’s not going to come without her. “Again.” He massages her bundle of nerves with his thumb in quick, tight circles. “Come for me, so I can watch.”
She cries out, her body arching, her skin bursting, her lungs burning. She vaguely registers the sound of something creaking, of something snapping, but she’s too far gone as she comes apart. He groans as her walls tighten around him, and just a moment later, after a few more thrusts, he’s coming, too, his warmth spilling inside of her as his palm presses flat against her stomach to keep her pinned to him as they both ride the waves of the orgasms.
“Fuck,” she hears him breathe out as he pulls them back to the mattress, and she whimpers, her body shuddering and her head shaking as she feels him pull out of her. He rolls her onto her back, pressing her legs open, and she can feel their wetness dripping down her folds. Her eyelashes flutter open, her vision still blurred with pleasure at the edges as she looks up at his face. His lips twitch in a smirk, his expression a little sated, but his eyes still twinkling brightly.
“We broke the bed, didn’t we?” she asks, her voice raspy and breathy as he kisses her lips, the column of her neck, the dip of her breasts. He hums in response, licking a stripe up the flat of her stomach. She shivers, her body somehow protesting at the thought of more, yet craving it all the same. Because she knows her husband. She knows that they’re far from done.
He licks her folds gently, careful to avoid her aching, oversensitive bundle of nerves as he laps at their wetness, and she glances down her body to find his eyes staring up at her. He smirks between her legs, licks his lips.
“I was thinking I’d have you for breakfast,” he tells her, pressing her legs a little further apart, “and then I’ll make you pancakes.”
She laughs, letting her eyelids fall closed with a soft moan as his tongue slides over her again.
Such a doting husband.
#romanogers#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#chanty writes#chanty's smut#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4#sleepygrimm#autonomicrogue#anon#married 'verse
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WEEK 3 DRABBLES ARE HERE!
Now, let’s refresh your memory about the prompt
We have asked our writers to write between 100 and 150 words of an acrostic drabble for NO TIME. (We wanted each paragraph to start with the given letters.)
THEY DID SUCH AN AWESOME JOB!
Now, how to vote?
Yup, that’s pretty much the method, although the writing of the individual feedback full of love is very much optional. (And yes, we’re reusing this meme from last week.)
Read the drabbles below the line (or on wordpress) and GO VOTE when you’re done!
#1
Title: Little Prick
Author: sorion
Warnings: none
Summary: Just some bondy banter.
Now, that was just rude, Q thought, sipping his tea with his eyes on the computer screen and giving a weak attempt at not looking amused.
Other than the potted plant in the corner, nobody was convinced of said attempt, and neither was Bond at the other end of the satellite connection, and he couldn't even see Q.
The hand gesture Bond waved at the hidden camera was still rude, though less original.
"I can hear you laugh into your tea; don't think I can't," Bond's crystal-clear voice echoed through Q-Branch.
"Mmm," Q hummed in agreement. "I have to get my kicks from somewhere, Bond, and you're usually a reliable source."
Ever the gentleman, Bond conceded with grace. "Alright, you win," he said. "Provided, of course, that you stop laughing for long enough to get me out of here, so I can come home."
#2
Title: White Knight
Author: sunaddicted
Warnings: none
Summary: bratty agents really do get on Bill’s nerves
"No."
"Oh, come on!"
Tanner arched an eyebrow at the raised tone of voice 009 was directing at him: he definitely didn't appreciate being talked to in such manner by a bratty agent - how the man was Q's favorite (besides Bond, of course), Bill would never know.
"I'm not messing around with the line-up just because you want to go to Malaysia."
M cleared his throat from the entrance of Tanner's office, looking coldly at 009. "Of course you're not. You should go get kitted for your own mission, 009: I believe R is waiting for you in Q-Branch."
Exhaling loudly, 009 pursed his lips and left with a stiff and parting nod - it was absolutely satisfying to watch. "You didn't have to come and save me," Bill pointed out, smiling up at the other even as M bent down to kiss him. "Thank you, though."
#3
Title: Another Door Opens
Author: soufflegirl91
Warnings: None
Summary: Eve contemplates a door, and what led her to it
Now or never.
One way or another, things were about to change forever. In a way, everything from the moment she had shot James Bond off that bridge in Turkey had been leading to this.
The door loomed ahead, waiting for her to take the next step. There had been a time when she thought that with that one shot, she had ruined things forever. That any opportunity she had to prove herself in the field, any chance of a career, had crashed into the water with Bond’s body.
Instead, it had merely opened another door for her. Given her a chance to learn things she never would have in the field. The people, the politics. All the little games the field agents never saw.
“M,” her secretary greeted.
Eve nodded back at her, and walked through the door to her new office.
#4
Title: Inside Information
Author: starrboned / MrKsan
Warnings: content warning: alcohol
Summary: Bond is back again and bets are placed.
“No,” Q said over his glass of gin, finishing it off in one swig. “Not doing this again.”
“Or you could stop being such a wet blanket and place your bet already,” Moneypenny said, poking him in the ribs. He swatted at her, scooting closer to Tanner. “We all know Bond will ‘retire’ soon enough.”
“That’s all everyone’s talking about,” Q huffed, staring at his empty glass. “He’s back, he’s off again - it’s a never-ending cycle.” Almost wish he'd stay gone, he didn't say.
“It is,” Tanner sighs, nudging his half-full pint towards Q. “But even Mallory wagered a full six months."
“Mallory did?” Q almost choked on Tanner’s beer. “That’s - that’s unusual of him.”
“Eh, said something about how ‘Bond has something to prove' this time around.“ Tanner grinned. Q felt his cheeks warm under his knowing gaze. "Maybe he has some inside information, huh?"
#5
Title: No Time Like The Present
Author: storm_of_sharp_things
Warnings: none
Summary: Felix had been wondering if it was ever going to happen
“Not that you need to answer, but did you ever sleep with him?” Felix looked up from his glass as MI6’s Chief of Staff dropped into the chair next to him at the bar and quirked an eyebrow. It wasn’t how Felix would’ve started this conversation, but...
“Once,” he admitted. He tossed back the rest of his drink. “You?”
Tanner nodded, his gaze distant. “Once,” he said with a faint smile. “Seemed a good idea at the time.”
“I don’t regret it,” Felix said. Then he shrugged and smirked. “I think we’d have shot each other if we’d really tried to make it work. But I do miss him.”
“Me too.” Tanner paused long enough that Felix wondered if he’d follow through. “Listen, I’ve got some good bourbon back at mine. Want a drink where it’s quieter?”
“Easy answer,” Felix grinned. “Hell yes, thought you’d never ask, let’s go.”
#6
Title: Entanglement
Author: Nana-chan
Warnings:
Summary: In which 007 and Q trade places...
“Now take your clothes off slowly,” said Bond softly. “Goddammit, Q, I said slowly.”
“Oh, do piss off, Bond,” Q hissed, dropping his shirt to the floor while Bond continued to watch him through the CCTV live feed. “Now, help me with the leathers.”
“That actually sounds very sexy, coming from you,” Bond said conversationally, his eyes drifting all over Q’s bare midriff before focusing on the contraption strapped to him.
“I suppose it does, yeah,” replied Q archly. “Never mind my predicament.”
“Mm-hmm,” said Bond, unfazed. “Not enough time. The straps will have to stay for now. I’ll start, then.”
Entanglements such as this were usually Bond’s lot, not his, but what was he to do when someone had attached an IED to his person? At least he’d dispatched his would-be kidnapper. He sighed, relieved, as Bond typed in the code he’d devised to remotely disable the ticking bomb.
#7
Title: Time Well Spent
Author: IrishWitch58 / captain-magicalkitty
Warnings: None
Summary: A conversation over coms.
“Nine bloody days and the target hasn't moved at all.” Q could almost see the exasperated expression. Bond hated the need for surveillance and made his displeasure known.
“Once he does, I'm sure the resulting excitement will more than make up for your current boredom,” Q soothed. He managed to hide his smile from the rest of the branch late shift.
There was a disgusted snort from the coms. “You'll have to do better than that to make this up to me.” The tone was suggestive but only in the general Bond default setting. Q wasn't concerned about anyone overhearing.
“If you're still angling after an exploding pen, dream on.”
“Miser,” Bond accused, fond tone at odds with the statement.
Eventually the target would move and Bond would get the job done. Until then, they enjoyed time spent together, even far apart.
#8
Title: N O T I M E
Author: hexiva
Warnings: Character death
Summary: Bond confronts Blofeld.
No time to think as James rounds the corner, gun in hand, and comes face to face with Blofeld, with Franz.
Only hatred in Franz’s eyes, he reaches for his gun.
Trigger burning against James’ finger, all he has to do is pull it, end this, end this, but -
Ivy leaves underfoot, the sky blue above them, and they’re bickering but they’re just children still, not the killers they will become, and Franz laughs as James trips, and he reaches down to offer him a hand -
Many years ago, they were brothers. Franz knew him before he was 007. He’s the last man left who did. Everyone else is gone, and James is tired of being alone and tired of being a killer.
Every muscle in his body aches with weariness as he lets his gun drop. And he looks Franz in the eyes as Franz pulls the trigger.
#9
Title: A Change of The Story
Author: scarytheory
Warnings: (a little bit of) sci-fi
Summary: She has seen the future. What she’ll do with it is up to her.
No time to waste when she’s got a glimpse of the future. She had seen Bond devastated by loss and full of rage. She had seen Q who was absorbed in his job, bitter and sad. And herself – composed and nice and so, so lonely.
Or was it possible to change it? She decided to go to that beach instead of Bond. But before she left, she whispered to him: “You’ve got a secret admirer in the Q branch.” Will it be enough? And the girl on the beach… will she manage to save her?
“Tracy!” she screamed as she was trying to get her out of the water.
“I don’t know you.” Not yet.
“Moneypenny, Eve Moneypenny.”
Eve decided that this time she wasn't going to let them be burned by the inevitability. This time, Tracy would live.
#10
Title: Let the Record Show
Author: anyawen
Warnings: None
Summary: They've read the same reports, but have arrived at differing conclusions.
"No, I don't think so," Q disagrees with forced lightness. "Not this time."
"Oh, honey," Eve sighs, not fooled in the least. She reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. "Every time. He always comes back."
"There's no reason for him to come back, not anymore," Q insists. "M is dead, and he's finished the last mission she ever gave him. He can retire now. Live a peaceful life with a beautiful woman. And a beautiful car."
"If you think he'll be happy with a peaceful life, you don't understand him as well as you think," Eve laughs.
"Maybe he doesn't want peaceful," Q allows, "but we've read his file. He doesn't want m— this either, or he wouldn't keep trying to leave."
"Eventually, he will come home. And when he does," Eve says, sitting back and angling to speak to someone over Q's shoulder, "you should tell him."
#11
Title: TO DIE
Author: Merc / moon_of_mercury
Warnings: This one is depressing. Sorry!
Summary: The End.
Never again...
Observing from behind his screen, Q takes in the smoking, crumbling scene of destruction. Police cars with flashing lights and blaring sirens swarm the streets. A familiar silhouette blends in with the by-passers, slipping out of his view around the corner.
This is the last time James Bond holsters his gun, dusts off his suit, and heads for the airport to catch a flight Moneypenny arranged for him.
“It’s done,” Q says into the expectant stillness of the room. It hurts a little, even though he’s relieved. The showdown could have gone so much worse, but this is just as final.
Memories of this mission will haunt him for different reasons than usual. Their blazing victory is a bittersweet consolation.
Everything ends here; even those things that never began.
#12
Title: Mission Goal: Ideas
Author: Venstar /1amvengeance
Warnings: none
Summary: well someone had to think of something.
“Now you're just showing off.” James’s voice drawled against Q’s ear.
“Oh, I'm showing off. Did you have any other ideas? No. Spies should have faster reflexes than asking me to 'Quick hide us!' My time and equipment are very expensive.” Q hissed quietly. They were still on a mission after all.
“That kiss was a far better idea than anything I had in mind. I'm happy to pay your asking price. Are you okay Q, your face has gone all red.”
“I will murder you in your sleep. I will end you. I will scatter your body parts to the farthest corners of the globe as a warning to those that think about blaming me for coming up with all the ideas!”
“Maybe instead of murder, you should think about our target. He’s escaping.”
“Escaping my arse. Someone is going to pay for your lack of ideas.”
#13
Title: Losing and Having
Author: solarmorrigan
Warnings: None.
Summary: Bond reflects and knows he can't have it any other way.
Never in all his life had Bond felt quite this level of terror.
Or – well, no. That wasn’t quite true.
There had been one other time.
In the murky water, watching everything he’d allowed himself to love and depend on slip away into oblivion. The fear had clutched him then, shaken him and wrecked him.
Maybe he should have listened to his own damn self when he’d designated the heart as nothing but a target.
Even so, even knowing this, Bond clutched Q’s hand, eyes locked on his bruised and battered quartermaster who had only just returned to him, and knew it was worth it. The fear of loss was nothing against the euphoria of having.
#14
Title: Dreisamkeit (Or: Bliss comes in threes)
Author: Misha / artsytarts / jelly-mish
Warnings: Sickly sweet fluff, watch out for cavities
Summary: Della, Felix and James are toying with the idea of having a lazy day in.
Nestled between the warm bodies of her boys, Della felt content.
“Occasionally, I’d like to just... stay here. All day.”, she said, letting her fingers brush through their hair in lazy strokes. James tightened his grip around her and made an approving noise.
Then the beeping started. Felix moved, banging his fist on the alarm clock. “Gosh darn it,” he growled. Della pouted in response, until a thought struck her. What if they took a sick day? Food poisoning? Good enough story. She suggested it out loud.
“If you take the blame,” James mumbled sleepily.
“Me? If anyone, it’d be Felix,” Della grinned at her husband's dirty look and carried on: “Remember when you forgot to add water to the pasta? The fumes were noxious.”
Eventually, reluctantly, they broke up their haven of safety and rolled out of bed. Della sighed. There never seemed to be enough time.
#15
Title: Augment
Author: oldestcharm
Warnings: n/a
Summary: Every week Q argues his case and wins.
"No," M says, squinting and displeased. "Absolutely not."
"One million," Q attempts with a half-hearted smile, but he knows well enough that it wouldn't work in any other situation. He's not even trying that hard at this point, because he knows he'll win this argument every single time. "It's not that much. I should probably ask ten times that with the amount of shit Bond breaks. Remember last week? I deserve a better budget."
"Then stop supplying him with expensive equipment," M suggests, unsympathetic at best.
"I'll have you know he'll get his hands on it whether I supply it or not," Q says crossly.
"Maybe you aren't doing a good enough job at security."
"Exactly, I need a better budget!" Q insists, eyeing M with a bit of a manic expression as he sets down the tablet in front of him. "Now sign it or deal with the consequences."
Go Vote!
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2020 Fic Meme
It happens every year like clockwork. The Fic Round-Up Meme. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it this year because I’ve written so much. As usual, compiled from ancient Livejournal fic memes. I like doing it as kind of a time capsule of my writing. If anyone else wants to take a crack, feel free. I love reading writers’ throughs on their own work. <3 No tagging because that is PRESSURE.
Twilight
12 Days of Fic-Mas (Twilight, WIP) Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 + Christmas Eve
Twelve days of fic extracts, previews, and drabbles focusing on Alice Cullen and Jess/Jasper Hale: Anathema, the KidFic, Married in Vegas, Daemons, Memento Vivere, Human Alice Kills James, Jess and Alice do Prom, Forgotten, Vampires in Vegas, Shadow to Light Missing Scene, Hybrid, Cowboys and Angel Solstice, and All These Broken Things
Afterglow (Alice/Jasper, AU, Romance, G) There were three things of which she was certain. The first was that her name was Alice. The second was that she was born an angel. And three, she was getting ready to die.
Against a Wall (Alice/Jasper, Human/Vampire AU, Romance, Angst, PG) If you asked anyone with the surname ‘Whitlock’, they’d tell you that the family was cursed. It was the Whitlock Curse to blame the day the bank took the ranch away from Jasper’s own father.
And Found (Alice/Jasper, Soulmark AU, Romance, PG) The soul mark appears when Alice is six. It is a twisted ribbon of a mark, from the inside of her left elbow, up her arm, over her shoulder, along her clavicle, over her right shoulder and down to her right wrist. What ugly, soulless individual could inspire such a mark?
Jar of Hearts Pt 1 Pt 2 (WIP) (Alice, Emmett, Seth, MCU xover, Angst, PG) The snap came for everyone - “He said he’d never leave me,” she says in a wobbly voice. “He promised me.”“It wasn’t by choice,” Emmett rushes to tell her. “You were his last thought; he tried so hard to get home before he…”
Never a Question (Alice/Jasper, AU, Angst, G) Carlisle is quite sure that he’s watching his son’s heart break into a million pieces as he stares at his human mate, slowly dying alone, not a single person allowed to hold her hand.
Hand in Hand (Alice/Jasper, AU, Fluff, G) “Never,” he swears, pressing a kiss to her cheek that makes her beam - “There’s not a single moment I can think of that cannot be improved by your presence, darlin’.”
Love & Duty (Alice/Jasper, AU, Romance, G) A trainee witch is sent to treat a wounded cowboy from her brother coven.
Shadow to Light (WIP) (Alice/Jasper, AU Angst, PG) In 1918, Jasper lures the newborn known as Mary-Alice back to Monterrey. He is lost to her before it even begins. (Ch 6-8)
The Way of Things (Alice/Jasper, AU, Drama, M) She truly doesn’t know what comes next. He truly doesn’t know if it will be good or bad. They will live this life for as long as it lasts, long may it last, surrounded by the people they love and trust.
What You Say (Alice/Jessamine, Canon, Angst, M) Edward might have thought Aro was their reckoning, but Alice knows for her, it is Jessamine’s hurt.
Total number of completed stories: ELEVEN.
Total word count: 90,155 words were formally posted - not including snippets, previews (aside from FicMas) or anything that was shared on the Discord server.
Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I fucking nailed it. Like, seriously. THREE chapters of Shadow to Light? Every single day of JaliceWeek AND FicMas? I mean, I think the lockdown definitely helped with free time, and not going to lie, the iOS shutdown of Fortnite probably assisted my productivity.
What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? The Discord has so much to answer for. I wrote porn. Like, what. What. What. What. I find this bizarre and did not have ‘let’s just go full NC17 in 2020′ on my bingo card, but it happened. In fact, 2019 Lexie has just gone full spit-take and yelled, “WHAT?!” at the top of her lungs.
And to make it more surprising, it’s both het and f/f porn. Like, mind-blown. Who am I anymore?
What’s your own favourite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? The Way of Things, What You Say, And Found, & Afterglow. All fics that came together really well, that felt like *me*, and had hopeful endings. I’m really proud of them.
STL doesn’t get an opportunity to be apart of this til it’s finished.
Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? The porn.
Apparently, I can write it. Who knew?
I definitely threw caution to the wind with JaliceWeek and just went for whatever crossed my mind and stopped worrying so much. Like, whatever, this is what I want to write so I will. I mean, the MCU crossover is happening in a slightly more obscure way than I initially envisaged it, it’s definitely a better fic for it.
I joined the Discord, and that’s been amazing. I’ve spent my last few fandoms existing in kind of a vacuum because of bad experiences and the fact I’m usually doing something niche, so having people to talk to who are so nice and welcoming and are happy to ignore my special brand of obnoxiousness is so lovely and has had such a good affect on my mental health. Sometimes you need people you can be your dorkiest self with.
My instincts are pretty good as far as fic goes, people are awesome, and I can write sex scenes. It’s been a learning curve, let me tell you that.
Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year? I have to balance grad school, my business, and my writing, so that’s going to be interesting. I think I need to look at my fic more as downtime than a high-stress ‘job’ because I LOVE writing it. I love writing. I love reading. But I get in my own head and overthink. So my goals are BALANCE and RELAX.
My best story of this year: Oh man, that’s not something I can judge. I am so incredibly proud of how Afterglow, And Found, and The Way of Things turned out. Especially considering I was so behind with JaliceWeek, and I think I was putting out a fic a day, and freaking out because I was lacking ideas, so when these three just came together exactly how I wanted them, it was a good moment.
My most popular story: Shadow to Light. Look, if that’s my legacy to fandom, I’ve done pretty damn well. I’m really, really appreciative of how enthusiastic people are about this ‘verse. I don’t always understand it, because I can see how my writing has changed and how the story has evolved massively (first it was supposed to be a one-shot, then five chapters.) I hope that it ends up being satisfying for everyone because I have LOVED writing it, even if I am slower than molasses.
Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Everyone is always so damn enthusiastic about my writing. I think maybe Hybrid is kind of a big question mark for everyone at the moment because there are so many questions and no answers yet.
And any of the Jessamine/Alice. That’s a new niche, I get not everyone is into it. But it’s happening and will continue into 2020.
Most fun story to write: What You Say or Jess and Alice at Prom. Jess is a little snarkier than Jasper, less controlled, and the girls are super fun to write, even high-tension scenes.
Most Sexy Story: Oh, I can answer this now! Um, maybe The Way of Things or Jess and Alice at Prom? Yup, those are my picks.
Story with the single sexiest moment: The Way of Things. This happened before the Discord Intervention, and I’m genuinely not sure if I’m happy with the end of the Prom fic, so it might be reworked slightly in the future. But The Way of Things I was really happy with because it covered so many ideas I had in a way that fit together well.
That’s where she makes good on her unspoken promises from aeons again, of their private victory celebration. She sits astride him, her hips rolling hard against his, drawing out his groans and growls as he grips her thighs almost tight enough to crack. Their gazes are locked the entire time, her tongue skimming over her lips, as she lets her emotions tell him everything that she wants and everything she plans to take.
He remembers fucking her in the dirt in Dacia; his mouth between her legs as she hollered obscenities in a Paris attic; and the urgent, passionate loving-making of a marriage finally consummated.
She remembers bloody emeralds looped around her throat and resting between her breasts as she gets down on her knees and takes him into her mouth, his fingers tangled in her hair; the delicious weight of him on top of her, their sweat mingling and cooling in the frozen night as their flimsy bed creaked against the wall; and his soft encouragement in her ear as he grasps her around the waist, their hands resting together on the gentle swell of her stomach.
Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: I think I restrained myself from anything too dark or twisted this year, actually. Oh, wait, Vampires in Vegas. That one has some pretty dark implications about Alice’s life, about the vampire underworld, and Jasper’s behaviour, especially as it goes one. No fic that deals with someone being put into sex work without educated consent is going to avoid being dark, and I think it’s logical that vampires would have their hands in a lot of illegal yet profitable areas.
Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: Anything with Jessamine/Alice because, like, Jess isn’t a name-swap of Jasper, and the relationship dynamic shifts with the slight personality shifts. And then you have to consider the family and social dynamic of two women in the relationship, so working all that out was fun.
Jar of Hearts is another one, because I had to work out who the fic was going to follow and what was lost. And Emmett and Alice pretty much don’t interact in canon, but they were chosen for a reason. I’ve stripped them down to their worst, most isolated selves without their ‘true north’ (Rose and Jasper) or their moral center (Carlisle and Esme), or even their secret weapon (Edward). Seth, too, has been isolated from his family and friends, and is especially ‘other’ in this situation. This is an MCU crossover, so we’re kind of following a heroes’ journey with the last of Forks’ supernatural creatures.
Hardest story to write: Shadow to Light because of the way I have to use language, because of the plot strands from canon when I hate writing canon material, and how the characters have changed and how this new version reflects the old version.
Against a Wall, as well, because of the in-verse time crunch I had - I needed Jasper damaged, military-minded, and changed by age 19. And I needed the boy broken. I’m happy with it, the story is done and dusted, but it didn’t quite turn out how I planned. And that’s okay, because I like this version. But I think I tackled something a lot bigger than I anticipated with it.
Most disappointing: Look, I love the verse and the set-up, but I think Love & Duty could do with another 2k words for build-up. I just ran out of time, honestly, to build up that mutual attraction between Alice and Jasper.
Easiest story to write: Anathema, because Alice’s voice was so clear in it. Anathema!Alice knows exactly who she is, and that’s always fun. And the Shadow to Light Missing Scene; it wasn’t as long as I hoped, but it turned out exactly as I imagined it happening.
Biggest surprise: Everyone really, really liked Forgotten. And Vampires in Vegas, which I honestly thought were the weakest offerings during FicMas.
Most unintentionally telling story: The Way of Things. There’s so little dialogue, and it’s covering such a massive amount of time and story that it’s intentionally written to tell.
Story I’d like to revise: Love & Duty, and Married in Vegas. A little polish, a little shine, it’s fine. For Love & Duty, it’s definitely the time crunch I need to go back and fix; for Married in Vegas, it’s just reflective of how long ago I started it. I’m a better writer, I know the characters more, and I’m less prone to overly dramatic plot twists.
Story I didn’t write but will at some point, I swear: Look, let me lay the groundwork now so that no one who isn’t on the Discord isn’t startled.
There’s going to be a Jess/Jasper/Alice threesome fic, and I regret nothing.
I really, really want to get All These Broken Things redone and posted because it’s getting silly how long it’s just been sitting there.
I want to actually write Monster, which is a fic I don’t talk about much but I want to write. It’s a question about who the monster of the story is, and I’m not sure I’m as skilled as I should be, to write it, but I want to try.
And one of my numerous attempts at a Haunted House Cryptid fic. It has to happen, I have so many ideas!
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2018 Fanfiction Round-Up
Total Year-Long Wordcount: According to my spreadsheet, it’s 523,355 words, which does also include some essay writing and original fiction but is by and large fic.
This year I wrote and posted: Roughly, 119 fics? This is not, probably, a correct calculation, as it probably includes multiple chapters of Life in Reverse/Halfway House as separate fics, and the entirety of like the restless sea (not all of which I wrote this year), but I don’t feel like doing more math. It’s almost 12 pages on Tumblr.
Overall Thoughts
Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? A little less than last year, but on the other hand...idk, I don’t tend to think about my year in terms of how much fic I’m writing while I’m in the middle of it. Honestly if I did I’d probably be a happier person who was less often like “OH NO I’M NOT WRITING ENOUGH.” That’s what’s nice about this meme - it really provides me with perspective.
So, like, technically I wrote less than I did last year, and that is not surprising considering the shape my life took this year (job meltdown, new job, three weeks of bedbug crisis), but...I still wrote a lot, especially with all of that considered, and wrote a lot better, I think.
What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? WELL I DIDN’T SEE MYSELF COMING BACK TO DOCTRINE OF LABYRINTHS IN FORCE BUT HERE I AM WITH FIVE NEW WIPS
What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? Man, I don’t know. There are a number of things that I’m pleased that I did for different reasons? Like, Will to Live feels like an accomplishment. But do I count finishing Life in Reverse for this year? Or the fact that I think Steve Rogers’ Halfway House for Notorious Supervillains remains one of the better written things I’m putting out (also possibly the best title)?
Maybe I’ll settle with it’s the season of possible miracle cures because that fic has been six years in the making and I finally got Steve and Loki married and it was the sappiest thing ever and I stand by it. Also I made myself emotional while I was writing it, which is usually a good sign.
OH NO ACTUALLY how could I forget? I think it’s the enemy of my enemy. I’ve missed writing Clint and Loki, and that fic was so fun to write, and now I want a whole AU of it. I’m like. Deep into a second chapter and have no idea where it’s going but I’m going with it.
Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? I sure did write a lot of second person. I feel like that doesn’t count as a risk per se, though, because every case where I did it...I did it because it felt like the story needed to be in that point of view? I mean, I wrestled with off to the races trying to write it in third person limited like usual and it just...really wanted to be in second person. So basically - does it count as a risk if it wasn’t something I chose to do?
Otherwise...I feel like I’m not a very adventurous writer most of the time. It’s one of the things I don’t love about myself as a writer.
From my past year of writing, what was….
My most popular story of this year: Cutting out Life in Reverse and Halfway House, as fics that are ongoing and skew the scale significantly (especially the former): based on hits it was escalated almost to an art. Based on kudos, Reckless Self-Endangerment, and based on bookmarks the same. That...actually really surprises me.
Most fun story to write: Probably Will to Live. That fic...took me totally off guard and just - spilled out of me. It was a joy to write from basically start to finish, and other than a plot hole hiccup that was resolved with some invaluable beta help, really just...came together almost on its own. And it was, truly, so many things mashed together that I’m into. I haven’t ever written that much Thor POV, I don’t think, and that really caught me by surprise as far as how much I enjoyed it, too.
Story with the single sexiest moment: I feel like...hm. I’m not sure. I guess it depends on whether we’re going with “conventionally sexy” or “shit I shouldn’t be into this sexy” because those are two different answers. But I do feel like the sex in An Ever Expanding Circle is definitely up there.
Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: I’m still pretty sure nothing I do will ever live up to the bar set by The Vivisection Mambo, but...escalated almost to an art probably is up there. I mean, it was definitely the story where I was most “holy shit what am I doing” while I was writing it. Though making love with his ego was also pretty damn dark and also...had a much more downer ending than I was originally planning.
Actually, though, I feel like the worst is probably One Wrong Turn because of the set up (Remember This Cold AU) and where I went with it as far as breaking everyone involved (except, as usual, the Grandmaster).
Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: uhhhhh. I always have a hard time with this question, because I don’t really know what it means? My perceptions of characters tend to shape how I write a fic, not so much the other way around. I guess maybe - oh, no, I’ve got it. It’s only one part in one story, but writing Shuri in Breathing Room gave me a better understanding of her character, I think, than I have before. Which is mostly down to @portraitoftheoddity, so I don’t know if I can actually take credit for that.
Hardest story to write: God. So many stories are hard to write in so many ways. always ready for a war again was definitely a challenge, as writing stories from a different character POV usually are. I struggled a bizarre and moderately hilarious amount with how fluffy the wedding fic ended up getting; I thought I might be going too far. (That’s such a me thought to have.)
Oh - writing like 500 words of Mildmay’s POV was absolutely one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my writing career. And I’m going to keep doing it. Whoops.
Biggest Disappointment: Myself, for the fact that despite having 41 pages written, I’ve only managed to successfully post two chapters of Tear My Castle Down.
Biggest Surprise: Other than stumbling and falling face first back into writing for Doctrine of Labyrinths as a fandom? Possibly writing Crimson Peak fanfiction. I didn’t see that happening. Otherwise...the number of new kinks I wrote for reason of Frostmaster definitely caught me off guard.
Most Unintentionally Telling Story: I feel like everything I wrote for Loki/Grandmaster this year could be called “unintentionally telling.” It’s like...if you’ve been following me for the last few years, this might not have been something you were aware of, but hoo boy has it been there.
Favorite Opening Line(s):
Loki had a smile like an air raid siren: attention grabbing and screaming danger. (untitled)
His first memory was a silver mask with rectangles for eyes and mouth, looking down at him. “Attempt four-hundred and thirty-two,” it said, “success.” (how you gaze upon my bones)
When it was over, when all was said and done, the dust settled, the universe rebuilt, Steve walked away. (blackbird singing in the dead of night)
Away from Allerdale Hall, Lucille felt as though she’d disappear. (we too (three) could be glorious)
You were born with two names. (always ready for a war again)
Favorite Line(s) from Anywhere:
1. Loki slipped in and out of consciousness, clinging to life. Held back from the edge like he was a ship at anchor, wood groaning at the pull of the rope. He could almost see death, a reef where the waves broke, that he could break himself on. (your blood like ice)
2. The Void was not empty, as everyone had thought. The Void was full of monsters. One of them found Loki, and plucked his body out of space, and forced him back to life. He mended Loki’s fragmented consciousness with all the gentleness of a carpenter hammering together pieces of wood, and when he was a rough approximation of whole the being who had found him told him who he was, and what he wanted. (the years after the fall)
3. He pressed the thumb of his right hand into the palm of his left. The gesture felt familiar, and yet when he actually did it, strange. Someone else’s hands. Someone else’s lungs. (down to the bone)
4. Loki’s stomach sank. He recognized the feeling. It was the one that meant he was about to do something stupid because of Thor. He hadn’t felt it in a while, and he didn’t appreciate its return. (Captive Audience)
5. Your people bleed names. Names torn away by force, broken lineage, and even when you’re free the names you get aren’t really yours. I am N’Jadaka, son of N’Jobu, you said, and thought you were taking your birthright, but it wasn’t yours. You’re too much Erik Stevens, too much Killmonger, too much American. You don’t belong here. (always ready for a war again)
6. The Grandmaster did not just make his point (I own you, everything you are is mine to do with as I please). He hammered it home, wrote it in Loki’s flesh, crucified him with it. He pulled Loki apart, cooed over him and promised to put him back together only to break him down further into smaller and smaller pieces, and it occurred to Loki that up until now the Grandmaster had been merciful. (it’s a mean world that I’ve known)
7. As it was, even with the windows open he was still trapped within the confines of his skull - a far deadlier snare than even the cruelest jailor could devise. (Stitching)
8. “Getting yourself killed doesn’t prove anything,” Thor said, finally. Loki snorted.
“Wouldn’t it, though?” He said, eyebrows raised. “Everyone loves a good self-sacrifice. I wrote a whole play about it.”
Thor’s expression spasmed again. Still not amused. “I would rather have a living brother than a dead hero.” (Reckless Self-Endangerment)
9. In the winter, she thought distantly, they should go to the Alps. There, the snow would come down clean. (we too (three) could be glorious)
10. “I wonder,” he said, “if hounds hunt wolves with such alacrity, for envy of their freedom.” (Will to Live)
11. Loki's nostrils flared. "You say we," he said, "but I am not a participant in this. And you still do not understand. There is no making this better. This is what it is. My pain is part of its design, its purpose. And even if it were not, even if you somehow could prevent the binding from hurting me at all - it would still be a binding. You still own me. Coat that in honey as you will, but that will never be anything but wormwood." (Tear My Castle Down)
12. Thor. Even thinking the name was like a wound, so he held it there, letting it dig in. Could he, he would open his chest and carve Thor’s name on every one of his ribs. (half a league onward)
Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:
The scene from making love with his ego where the Grandmaster loses his temper with Loki and flexes those cosmic powers.
The Steve/Loki wedding from it’s the season of possible miracle cures.
Thor and Loki cuddling in we don’t know where tomorrow ends or drown my woes in a lake of fire.
Any part of the Steve/Loki/Thor smut from An Ever Expanding Circle.
The scene from I am frail, be you forgiven with Loki holding Thor’s hands, one on his heart and one on his neck.
Fic-writing goals for 2019:
Well, last year I said my goal for 2018 was finishing Life in Reverse so I’d be like “goal for 2019: finishing Halfway House!” but that is just plain not realistic. So, uh, on the more realistic front:
write and finish the next Remember This Cold plot-fic
be less scared of self indulgence
write less fic and more original fiction
get another essay published on Tor.com
try to chill out and remember that if you take breaks it doesn’t mean you’re worthless
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July Round Up
It’s time to remind you of the great fic we saw in July. Did you miss any of these? Go read them now!
Doomsday Month:
By the Light of the Bridge ch 1 chapter 2 by @goingtothetardis (Ten x Rose, reunion)
By the Light of the Bridge ch 3 and epilogue by @goingtothetardis (Ten x Rose, reunion)
To Lead Herself Home by @chocolatequeennk (Ten x Rose, Bad Wolf reunion/fixit)
On the North Wind by @chocolatequeennk (Ten x Rose, Reunion, Shakespeare Code rewrite)
All That Matters by @hanluvr (Ten x Rose, angst)
From the Ashes by @hanluvr (Tentoo x Rose, Doomsday nightmares, drabble prompt: knife)
A Lie and a Promise by @meanwhileinpetesworld (Ten x Rose, pregnancy fic)
Finally Home by @chocolatequeennk (Ten x Rose, Doomsday reunion)
The Stowaway by @chocolatequeennk (Ten x Rose, reunion fic)
Paint By Numbers by @megabadbunny (Ten x Rose, reunion fic)
Two Words by @chocolatequeennk (Ten x Rose, reunion fic)
Always Her Doctor, 5/6 by @chocolatequeennk (Ten x Rose, reunion fic)
Looking Back ch 2 chapter 3 by @countessselena (Ten x Rose, Twelve x Rose, reunion fic)
Happy birthday, Tentoo:
Oh, Yes! by @darthtella (prompt: what was he thinking right after he was created?)
Space for Two by @hanluvr
Without Hope by @goingtothetardis (drabble prompt: knife)
Ten by @creativebec
Sexy Specs by @creativebec
Not the Jealous Type ch 1 by @skyler10fic
Not the Jealous Type ch 2 by @skyler10fic (Tentoo x Rose, telepathic bonding)
Not the Jealous Type by @skyler10fic (Tentoo x Rose)
Not the Jealous Type ch 4 by @skyler10fic (Tentoo x Rose, telepathic bonding)
Not the Jealous Type 5/5 by @skyler10fic (Tentoo x Rose)
Fireworks Above London by @lizann5869 (Also summer prompts)
Tales As Old As Time 3/3 by @lizann5869
Summer Fun:
Bathing Suit Malfunction by @badwolfinthetxrdis (Ten x Rose, Rose persuading him to wear a swim suit)
Other drabbles:
The Beginning by @ialwayscomewhenyoucall (Nine x Rose, knife)
Knife Skills by @perfectlyrose (Eight x Rose, knife)
Hostage Negotiation by @perfectlyrose (Ten x Rose, knife)
The Doctor Prances by @lizann5869 (Ten x Rose, prance)
Untitled 56 by @tenroseforeverandever (Tentoo x Rose, light)
Moonlight by @hanluvr (Tentoo x Rose, light)
She Wore Yellow Roses by @lizann5869 (Ten x Rose, light)
Open by @darthtella (Nine x Rose, Ten x Rose, open)
The Promise by @creativebec (Ten x Rose, Tentoo x Rose, light)
Redecorated by @lizann5869 (Thirteen x Rose, open)
Open Hearted by @lizann5869 (Nine x Rose or Ten x Rose, open)
It Travels in Time by @lizann5869 (Nine x Rose, open)
Other prompts:
Stars on Her Ceiling ch 8 chapter 9 by @gingergallifreyan (Ten x Rose, movie au)
Stars on Her Ceiling, ch 10 by @gingergallifreyan (Ten x Rose, movie au)
Stars on Her Ceiling ch 11 chapter 12 by @gingergallifreyan (Ten x Rose, movie au, some chapters nsfw)
Midnight Reading II by @megabadbunny (Ten x Rose, prompt meme)
And Babies Make Five and Six, ch 9 by @lastbluetardis (Ten x Rose, kid fic, infertility tw)
And Babies Make Five and Six, ch 10 by @lastbluetardis (Ten x Rose, kid fic, soulmates au)
When I’m Sleeping by @goingtothetardis (Nine x Rose, prompt meme)
Cupcakes by @creativebec (Tentoo x Rose)
Restoration by @creativebec (Ten x Rose, post Idiot’s Lantern)
Doodles by @creativebec (Tentoo x Rose)
Across the Universe, ch 19 by @khaelisfics (Ten x Rose, soulmates au)
Classroom War, ch 6 by @khaelisfics (Ten x Rose, enemies to lovers)
Sky Forever 3/3 by @timelords-wizards-winchesters (Nine x Rose, mermaid au)
Morning Delight by @creativebec (Tentoo x Rose)
Things Unsaid by @blueboxesandtrafficcones (Tentoo x Rose)
The Most Ordinary Day by @creativebec (Tentoo x Rose, baby fic)
Co-habitation by @paigenotblank (Nine x Rose, life in the TARDIS)
Up in Flames ch 4 by @perfectlyrose (Nine x Rose)
A Chance Encounter by @blueboxesandtrafficcones (Thirteen x Rose)
You say that every time, and it never happens by @perfectlyrose (Nine x Rose, prompt meme)
Stay? by @perfectlyrose (Twelve x Rose, prompt meme)
First Date by @blueboxesandtrafficcones (Ten x Rose, 31 days of Ficmas, nsfw)
66 Degrees South chapter 2 by @onthedriftinthetardis (Nine x Rose, huddling for warmth)
I’m not afraid by @perfectlyrose (Tentoo x Rose, prompt meme)
A Work of Art by @creativebec (Ten x Rose, artist/model au, nudity)
This Domestic Life by @creativebec (Tentoo x Rose, baby fic)
Stay by @creativebec (Tentoo x Rose)Cyclonic Inverter Complications by @lizann5869 (Tentoo x Rose)
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Romanogers - #2 , #10 , #4 , #5 😊
2. Pulling him down by his tie. + 4. Make sure you leave a mark. + 5. Fingernails scratching deeply down his back. + 10. I want you to mark me.
also for the anon from forever ago that requested Jealous Steve
takes place after that scene in Infinity War and is in the same timeline as “Here, Between the Lights” in which Steve and Nat are married
1.8k follower celebration!
“I saw that, Rogers.”
She watches his shoulders stiffen ever so slightly as she falls into step beside him, keeping his gaze trained on the tablet in his hand as he swipes through files. “Saw what?” he asks, and she doesn’t know why something sharp tugs at her chest when he doesn’t call her Mrs. Rogers in a teasing quip.
Not for the first time since she slid it off is she aware of her ring no longer on her finger, but now, with Steve’s jaw ticking in something that feels incredibly close to annoyance, the absence of it feels far more apparent. The fact that she knows she won’t find his on under his gloves only makes that sharp, odd sensation tug at her again, which is ridiculous. It had been a mutual, logical decision neither of them had batted an eye at, and she knows both of their rings are tucked safely inside the hidden compartments of their suits. But still.
“He’s our friend,” she points out. She’s not quite sure why she feels a little upset right now, and that’s probably what’s pissing her off most. He hums in acknowledgment, nodding once. She licks her lips, feeling something akin to helpless as she reaches out to touch his forearm, pausing their quick stride. “He deserved a warmer welcome,” she says, and his eyes finally flick up to meet her gaze. Then, her voice even softer: “I don’t like you being mad at me.”
His expression softens as he tilts his head, leaning in closer. “I’m not, Nat.”
“I know,” she says, because she does. If he was upset with her, he wouldn’t try to hide it. He trusts her far too much to do that to her. “But you are upset.”
He exhales a sharp breath, almost a laugh, and shakes his head. For a moment she thinks he’s going to brush it off, promise to talk about it later. The thing is? Part of her is terrified there really won’t be a later, and she doesn’t want to just leave it like this. So she reaches up and pushes her hand into his hair, gently massaging her fingers against his scalp, and he exhales again as he leans into her touch. “Not for any good reason,” he admits. “We don’t have time for unnecessary jealousy.”
She swallows lightly, and he wraps his fingers gently around her wrist, pulls her hand to his lips to brush a kiss to her palm. “Is this about Bruce?” she asks.
“A little. Mostly it’s just me being an ass.” His lips twitch at the corners as he shakes his head. “There’s no one I trust more in this world than you, Nat,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. She knows this - thinks that maybe she’s always known this, no matter how hard she tried not to dwell on it, let it complicate this, them - but she still gets a warm, flutter of relief in her chest when he tells her. “I don’t like that that was my first reaction to seeing Bruce. I’m relieved he’s alive. I’m relieved he’s home.” He swallows tightly and shakes his head, glancing away, but she grasps his chin and brings his gaze back to hers. “And I really don’t like that I felt even an ounce of hesitance in you, in us, just because he’s here.”
“I know you don’t doubt me,” she says quickly, quietly, because it’s important to her that he hears her say it. She stretches up, brushes her lips against his in a feather-light touch that’s not quite a kiss, but that makes her tingle all the same.
“Nat.” His voice is tight and gravelly, but he doesn’t try to pull away.
“I want your hands on me,” she whispers, already pushing him back into the open door behind him, leading into one of the debriefing rooms of the Facility. The tablet falls from his hand as he grasps onto her hips, hitting the floor in a loud, harsh crack, but neither of them even flinch, neither of them even dares to break their gaze. “I want you to mark me.”
His hands reach between them to fumble with the straps of her vest, even as he protests with, “The others need us. We don’t have time.”
“Your wife needs you more.” Her voice cracks on the word a little as she reaches for him, pulling him down by the straps of his suit, and he groans softly as his mouth slants over hers. She doesn’t have to chance say what she wants to next - that they may not have time if they wait - but she knows she doesn’t need to. He can hear it in the soft whimpers that aren’t quite muffled by their kiss, can feel it in the way her hands are shaking as she pushes the straps of his suit off of his shoulder.
He slips his hand up the bared flat of her stomach, pushing her forward and pressing her against the door with a hard shudder, and she gasps as his hand slides up to grasp one of her breasts and giving it a squeeze. He pushes her suit open a little more, her vest down her arm and onto the floor as he bares her other breast to him, and he dips down to seal his lips around her nipple, drawing a moan from her lips as he sucks at it firmly. Her voice sounds loud and almost harsh in the quiet space of the room, but she forgets to be conscious about the others wandering elsewhere in the Facility. Forgets to care about trying to be quiet.
She pushes her fingers into his hair, twist it in her grasp as he lets his teeth graze against her skin. “Make sure you leave a mark,” she breathes, tugging sharply at his scalp and making his groan against her breast. His eyes flick up to meet her gaze as he sinks his teeth into her, nipping hard enough to make her whimper. He knows she likes it, though. He knows she wants it. “Make sure I can feel you tomorrow,” she says, her voice pleading, and he lets out a harsh and shaky breath against her skin, because he knows what she means.
Make sure I can feel you, because I don’t know if we’ll get another chance.
He nips at her again, soothes the indent in her skin with a quick swipe of his tongue.
Make sure I can feel you, because I may not be by your side for much longer.
He pulls his mouth off of her, leaving a trail of wait, open-mouthed kisses as he reaches her other breast, biting at her skin again.
Make sure I can feel you, because I’m terrified I won’t be able to soon.
“Steve,” she cries as his lips seal around her other nipple, letting his teeth graze it as he sucks firmly, and her hands shaking as she fumbles for the buckle of his belt. He knows he should help her get it undone, but instead he slides his hand lower, slipping under her suit and between her legs to find her sex dripping. Her hips jerk against his hand, his gloved fingers sliding into her folds and quickly seeking out her little bundle of nerves, and her head falls back against the door as she moans.
“They’ll hear you, love,” he says into her skin, kissing up to her collarbone and biting into her shoulder. It almost sounds like a warning, but then he presses his face into skin and kisses her. “I want this whole damn building to hear you.”
“Fuck me,” she breathes out. “I need to feel you.”
“Then pull me out.” He skims his lips along the curve of her neck, licking a stripe up her skin as she shakes her head. She can’t think, can’t focus, but he gently grasps her by her wrists and guides her hands over the hard length of him through his suit, stifling a groan into her neck as he rocks his hips into her palms. “Pull me out,” he repeats, his voice soothing, encouraging, calming the rush of anxieties swirling inside of her. “I need to feel you, too. So fucking bad.”
She swallows as he lets go of her wrists, and she finally, finally, gets his belt undone, all but yanking it out of the way as she unzips his pants and reaches inside. He lets out a deep, delicious groan as she wraps her fingers around him, pulling him out and stroking down the length of him. He kisses her, nips at her lip, and then pulls back to meet her gaze.
“Hello, Mrs. Rogers,” he whispers, and she swears her heart cracks wide open.
“Hello, Mr. Rogers.”
She guides him to her entrance as he reaches up to cup her cheek, sweeping the pad of his thumb over her flushed skin. He holds her gaze as he leans his forehead against hers, like he’s afraid to close his eyes, afraid that she’ll fade right in front of him if he dares to look away. She gives him a gentle squeeze as his arousal wets her palm, his length pulsing in her grasp.
He reaches between them, curves his hand over hers and tangles their fingers together as he starts to push in, and her eyelashes flutter closed at the stretch of him as he sinks inside. The first push is always a little too much, a little too overwhelming, and she loves it. She swallows, her throat feeling tight, and his thumb guides hers up to rub over her little bundle of nerves, making her arch off of the door.
“Too soon,” she whimpers as he starts to circle her thumb over herself. She’s shaking, vibrating with pleasure, and her eyes are nearly closed as she tries to hold his gaze. I’ll come too soon, she wants to say, but she can’t quite find her voice, can’t quite catch her breath.
“I’ve got you,” he reassures, circling tighter as he starts to thrust in a little faster. He isn’t as deep as she wants him because of the angle and their suits still half in the way, but, fuck, it still feels so good. “Just let go, Nat. I’ve got you.”
She mewls and draws her hand away, slides them under the top half of his suit and up the muscles of his back, feeling them flex and coil as he moves in and out of her. She’s right there on that edge, and then he dips down, kissing her as his thumb circles gently over her clit, and she falls apart with a muffled cry of his name against his lips. He doesn’t relent, though - of course he doesn’t - angling his hips a little more and thrusting in a little faster as his thumb keeps circling over her in an unrelenting rhythm.
She cries out, her body shaking, her fingernails scratching deeply down his back as he fucks her through her orgasm, wringing out every ounce of her high. Her legs are shaking, her knees nearly giving out underneath her, but his other hand comes up to firmly grip her hip, pinning her in place against the door as it shudders under the force of them. He bites down on her lower lip as he quickens his pace, kissing her harder, deeper, her lungs burning for air that she doesn’t dare pull away to breathe. She doesn’t want to stop feeling him. She doesn’t want this to end.
“Steve,” she whimpers, not quite sure what she wants to say, but she feels overwhelmed, feels like she’s falling too quickly.
He yanks his lips from hers, kisses the corner of her mouth, the apple of her cheek, the underside of her jaw. “Nat, Nat,” he groans, her walls fluttering and tightening around him. He’s close - she can tell by how much harsher his hips are thrusting into her, how erratic his rhythm has become - and she is, too.
His lips find her pulse, pressing over her clit a little harder, and the sharp, harsh bite of his teeth over her neck pushes her over that edge, her second orgasm bursting over her before the tremors of her first can even subside. He exhales sharply against her skin, thrusting in deeper, faster, and then pressing his hips flushed to hers as he groans out, his warmth spilling inside of her.
Their harsh, broken breaths fill the space of the room, and she knows that they were loud. She knows there’s a chance someone heard them.
She doesn’t care, though. She doesn’t care about anything else but how it feels to be pressed against Steve like this, her skin tender where he’d bitten her.
He kisses the indent of his teeth on her neck, then peppers his lips up, up, up to her lips, kissing her softly. His fingers slip under her suit, finding the small zipper inside and tugging it open to slip out her ring, and she feels her heart flutter, feels her lips curve in a smile as he gently pulls her glove off of her left hand and slips the ring back into place. He draws her hand to his lips, kissing the band, and then he lets her draw it away to cup his cheek, blinking her eyes open to meet his gaze.
“I want you right next to me,” he tells her, giving her hips a gentle squeeze.
She nods, her eyelashes dotting with tears when she blinks them. “I will,” she promises, her voice light with a contentment - a hopefulness - she’s only ever felt because of him. “It’s the only place I ever want to be.”
#romanogers#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#chanty writes#chanty's smut#sleepygrimm#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4#married 'verse
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For six sexy words romanogers + watching him thrust himself into you.
“Romanogers + back to bed, you belong here” requested by @akurotori
“Six sexy words: romanogers 100 + 29 + 28 + 41” requested by an anon
28. Get yourself back in this bed. + 29. Kiss me up against the wall. + 41. All I can feel is you. + 86. Watching him thrust himself into you. + 87. Back to bed. You belong here + 100. Friday night was made for fucking.
1.8k follower celebration!
She can feel his lips on the back of her neck, brushing a soft, teasing kiss to the spot that always, always drives her crazy, and she breathes out his name in a harsh whisper, half-warning, half-whine. He reaches for her, tries to pull her back against his chest, and she lets out a laugh as she rolls herself just out of reach, pushing the covers off of her and pulling herself out of bed.
“Nat,” he says, and she glances over her shoulder. Fuck. A grown man should not get away with pouting like that.
And she should not find it as cute as she does. Especially when he’s laying on their bed, the covers dragged down to his calves, baring every firm, delicious dip of his muscles. He’d rolled onto his stomach in his attempt to pull her back to him, his cheek half-pressed into the pillow and his hair perfectly mussed from how much she’d tugged on it only an hour ago. His seems is almost lazy, but she catches that twinkle in his eyes. He’s far from done with putting up a fight.
“Come back to bed.” He lifts himself up on his elbow and she bites on the inside of her lip. “You belong here with me.”
She laughs. “Just like you belong in bed with me, instead of leaving me cold and all alone during your morning runs?” she asks, pulling open their dresser to grab pair of panties. He chuckles as she turns her gaze on him again, her eyes narrowing. “And the answer is still no, so stop looking at me like that.”
His lips twitch at the corners. “Like what?”
She really, really shouldn’t get any closer to him. Because if she does, she’s going to end up late to dinner. It’s the first time in weeks that they’re all home at the same time, with absolutely nothing already on their schedule, so Pepper had insisted that the girls all go out to dinner. Something that Steve has spent all day attempting to change her mind on, since tonight is the first night in a while that they would’ve had to themselves, too.
And they’ll still have it to themselves, once she gets back.
“Like that,” she says, and he jut chuckles again, kicks the covers off of his legs as he starts to get up. She feels a warmth flutter in her stomach as she takes a step back. His smile fades a little, his gaze growing hazier, hungrier. “Steve.”
He hums, grasps her by her hips and moves to press her against the wall, and she gasps at the cold press of it against her back. He slants his mouth over hers, licking into her parted lips, and she tightens her grip on the lace panties still in her hands as he kisses her. She can already feel where her muscles will be sore in the morning, where the scratch of his fingers will be bruised into her skin, yet somehow she still wants more.
“All I can feel is you,” he murmurs against her lips, gripping her hips a little tighter as he kisses the corner of her mouth, the apple of her cheek, the lobe of her ear, as he presses her a little harder against the wall. He squeezes her hips gently, then slips a hand over the curve of her ass, down the back of her thighs as he says, “I can still feel your skin against mine.” He hooks his hand behind the bend of her knee, draws her leg around his waste, and she feels her heart stutter when his hard length presses against her sex. “Your nails digging into my back.” He teases her with a brief kiss, leaning away and fucking smirking at her when she starts to tip her head forward to follow his kiss. “I know all you feel is me, too.”
She bites on the inside of her lip but doesn’t answer. Not that she needs to.
She always feels him for days and he knows it.
“I have to get ready for dinner,“ she says, gaze flicking down to his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them.
“I’ll be quick.”
Her laugh is breathy and broken as he dips down, kissing the pulse in her neck. “No, you won’t.” She feels him smirk against her skin. “You’re a fucking tease.”
“Since you’re leaving me, I think you’re the tease tonight.” He slips a hand between her legs, finding her wet sex and stroking his fingers through her folds. A shudder ripples down her spine as she curls into him, digs her nails harder into his biceps. He finds her bundle of nerves and strokes over it in gentle, tight circles as the pleasure tightens low in her stomach. It’s ridiculous how much her body melts at his touch, how easily she always unravels for him.
He dips down, teasing his fingers at her entrance, and her walls flutter in response. He’d been inside her only an hour ago and yet, she already aches.
“If you get yourself back in that bed, I promise I’ll be quick.” His voice is lower and tighter now, gravelly with want.
She shakes her head, leaning up to nip at his lower lip when he starts to protest. “Like this, right here,” she says, letting her panties fall from her grip as she winds her arms around his neck, digs her nails into him. “Because if you get me on that bed again, there’s no way I’m getting back out. And then we’ll have a very pissed of table of girls breaking down our front door to drag me away before I could get dressed.”
He smirks a little, kisses the bridge of her nose. “Well, we don’t want that.”
Then he reaches down, hooks her other leg around his hips before bracing one hand against the wall. She slides a hand down his chest, wraps her fingers around his length and squeezing, drawing a groan from deep within his chest. She brings him to her entrance, rubs the tip of him over her clit as he slants his lips over hers in another kiss. He licks into her mouth, rolls into her hand.
Her head falls forward onto his shoulder as she guides him to her entrance, her eyes feeling heavy, but she can’t quite bring herself to close them as he slides into her in one, long stroke. She moans, eyelashes fluttering as he pulls all the way out and thrusts back in, harder and faster. It’s almost captivating, watching the way his muscles flex, the way her wet sex slides around the length of him.
Then he snaps his hips, pushing her a little higher up the wall with the force of it, and she throws her head back and moans as he finds that sweet spot.
She hadn’t realized she even hit her head until his fingers tuck into her hair to rub at her scalp, and there’s a dimpled smile on his face when he looks at him.
“You know, that wouldn’t have happened if we were on the bed,” he tells her, and she can’t quite help the laugh that falls from her lips.
#romanogers#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#chanty writes#chanty's smut#drunkromanogers#akurotori#anon#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4
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six sexy words.. romanogers and "Do you have secrets to share?" (bonus if it's in the royal au!)
“Romanogers #47 , #55 , #61 thank you.” requested by @sleepygrimm
47. Tell me how you’d fuck me. + 55. Sliding my fingers into your mouth. + 61. Give me an orgasm or two. + 97. Do you have secrets to share?
also inspired by this photo, and by a line written by @sassaspazz in this drabble (you’ll know it when you read it)
part of the royal ‘verse and directly follows-up to this prompt
1.8k follower celebration!
She can feel the warmth of morning sunlight against her skin as she blinks her eyes open, squinting against the sudden brightness of the room. She rolls onto her stomach with a soft yawn, stretches out her arms and legs, her lips tugging into a smile as she feels the delicious ache in her muscles. She feels sore down to her bones, practically, and she still feels a little bit like liquid from last night. They had barely made it inside her suite before he’d tugged her dress down her chest and wrapped his lips around her nipple, and she’d found herself bare only moments later, hoisted onto the mini bar in nothing but her lace panties and her heels and her gaudy necklace still draped around her throat.
Steve had left her in her heels and necklace, too, as he wrung every ounce of pleasure from her. It wasn’t until she was sated and already half-asleep that he’d finally stripped them from her, kissing her ear and whispering, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you just like this, draw you just like this.”
She drapes her forearm over her eyes, bites the inside of her lip to try and hide her smile. She’d been too far gone to try to reply to him then, but now?
Oh, she’s absolutely not letting that go.
“That’s quite a dangerous smile to have first thing in the morning, Your Highness.”
She peaks out from under her arm, shading her eyes from the sunlight as Steve walks over from the bathroom. His gaze drags slowly down her body, and her skin tingles as if he’s actually touching her, tracing over her every curve.
“Do you have secrets to share?” she teases, drawing her arm as she sits herself up. He arches an eyebrow at her in question, reaches over to cup her jaw, stroking his thumb down the apple of her cheek. Her smile widens a little more. “Because you confessed something quite interesting last night.”
His forehead creases a little, his expression furrowing in thought for a moment as he tries to remember.
And then he blinks, realization making him breathe out an amused, “oh.”
“Do you really think about drawing me like that?” she asks, and despite the lilt of delight in her voice, she’s not teasing him. Well, not just teasing him. She’s genuinely curious, though she’s almost certain she already knows his answer.
“Of course I do.” He answers without missing a beat, and a warmth quickly unfurls in her stomach, making her skin tingle.
He leans in to kiss her, but she just giggles and draws away, lying back down. He chuckles, except it comes out a little gravelly, shaking with the same heat of desire that she feels, because he knows her, and he knows exactly what she’s about to say: “Well, now’s your chance.”
“Nat.” His eyes are darker now, his stare growing heavier as he swallows. She knows that he wants it, too, that he’s not going to say no, but he also doesn’t say anything else at first and she’s sort of holding her breath in her attempt not to squirm under his stare. “You know,” he says slowly, finally, still holding her gaze as he walks over to their luggage at the foot of their bed, “when I imagine how I’d like to draw you, it’s a little bit different.” He glances away from her to dig in his bag, pulling out his sketchbook and pencil, and then he’s climbing onto the opposite end of the bed and flipping open to a blank page. She starts to lift herself up but he stops her with a shake of his head, and, biting the inside of her lip, she lays back down. “You’re usually much, much wetter.”
A laugh bursts from her. “You could always give me an orgasm or two,” she says with an arch of her eyebrow. “Just to get me going.”
He chuckles and shakes his head again. “You’re much wetter because you’re touching yourself,” he explains, and her breath sort of catches in her throat. “When I think of drawing you, I think of you pleasing yourself, desperate for me.” He wraps a hand around her ankle, sliding it away from him to open her legs even wider, and she swears this small, simple gesture is enough to make her wet on its own.
She lets her head tip back against the pillow as she slides a hand down the flat of her stomach, stares up at the ornate painting on the ceiling as her fingers slide over her folds, and the first scratch of his pencil across the paper makes her heart stutter in her chest. She dips down into her wetness, teases right at her entrance for a few breaths before drawing her fingers up to circle her clit.
Her blood is starting to thrum, her breaths growing a little heavier, but she can still hear his pencil as it moves against the paper in erratic strokes. She lifts her head a little to look over at him, taking in the way his forehead is wrinkled a little in concentration, the hard length of him beginning beside his sketchbook that he’s propped on one knee. He glances up from the page, his lips curving into a smile when he catches her watching him.
“Need a little help, princess?”
She circles her clit again, and his chuckle is deep and rumbling as he catches her slight huff of frustration. She knows she’s aroused, and her touch feels good, but it’s not him. Her fingers are too slender, her skin too soft, almost too delicate, and it’s as if her body knows that he’s right there, that he’s supposed to be touching her like this instead.
“Tell me how you’d fuck me,” she orders - pleads - because she needs more.
She needs him.
“You mean, you don’t remember from last night?” he asks, almost taunts, as he drags his pencil in a particularly harsh line across his sketchpad. She bends one knee, opens herself up a little more as she dips her fingers back into her wetness and pushes two of them inside her. She’s slick with her arousal, and the slight brush of her palm against her clit sends a pulse of desire shooting straight down her spine. “You don’t remember how you almost came right on my hand on the mini bar, until I yanked it right out of your grasp?”
She mewls, curling her fingers the way he had, the heel of her hand pressing over her clit as the pad of her fingers find that spot that makes her hips jump off of the mattress. He had been a little rougher with her and it’s one of the things she’s always loved about him; he never treated her like something too precious to touch, like she was always a second away from breaking. So she tries to mimic the harsher curls of his strokes, the snaps of his wrists, and her lips part in a loud moan when another pulse of desire shoots down her spine.
“There you go, love.” His voice is soft, encouraging, but almost startles her because she’d quickly become wrapped up in her pleasure. “You don’t like it when I’m too gentle with you.” His hand grasps her ankle again, pushing her legs wider apart, wider, until she can feel the strain in her muscles from how he’d stretched her like this last night: one leg hooked over his shoulder, her other pinned to the mattress as he thrust into her. “You like to feel me all over.”
She whimpers, letting out a sharp, soft cry as her pleasure climbs. She remembers how much more intense everything had felt last night without the condom between them, remembers her oversensitive folds fluttering and shuddering at every little press and pull of him.
“Touch your clit,” he orders, his voice tighter, hoarser, and she complies, sliding her fingers out despite her sex fluttering in protest. And then she’s rubbing gently over her little bundle of nerves, rubbing in gentle, tight circles just like Steve does, in that way that’s almost unrelenting. Her back arches off of the bed, her free hand grasping at the sheet and twisting it in her grip as her lips part in a long, loud moan. Her body jolts when one of his hands curves over her left hip, like he can’t quite help but put his hand on her as she starts to feel herself unravel.
She strokes over her clit, her sex aching for the long, deep stretch on him inside of her, for how perfect it feels when they’re connected, and it’s the memory of him spilling inside of her for the first time last night that sends her over the edge.
She cries out, her hand starting to fall away, but he snatches her wrist and moves his hand to cup over hers, their fingers continue to slide over her slick folds. Her body shudders as she tries to twist away from the touch because it’s almost too much, but he knows she wants it, knows she can handle it, so he continues working their fingers over her as she rides out the waves of her high. She feels the bed dip as Steve moves over her, the warm, solid weight pressing her into the mattress as he slants his mouth over hers in a kiss. He guides her hand back down to her entrance, dipping her fingers through the wetness of her orgasm before drawing her hand up, sliding her fingers into his mouth and sucking.
Her eyelashes flutter open, her vision blurry at the edges as she meets his gaze. He pulls her hand away, licks his lips. She swallows lightly, mewling.
“Pretty sure I’ll have no problem drawing that from my memory,” he says, then dips down to press his lips to hers, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
But she can feel the hard length of him pressing against her hip, and she reaches up to gently push at his shoulders. He automatically complies, drawing away just a little, and she knows he catches the glint of intent in her eyes as she pushes at him again, urging him to roll over. He hooks an arm around her hips as he does, drawing her to straddle his chest as he lays back against the bed, and she reaches behind her to grab his sketchpad and his pencil.
She lays the pad over his chest, biting on her lip as she takes in his sketch. It’s mostly an outline of her, but even with the rough strokes of his pencils, she can tell just how erotic her pose is, can see that her legs are bent wide and she’s arching her back in pleasure. She doesn’t just look beautiful.
She looks captivating.
“I think this should be my birthday present,” she says, leaning down to kiss him gently on his lips. Her voice is light, almost teasing, but she knows he can see the tears starting to gather in her eyes, can see the subtle quiver of her body.
“I think I’d be exiled if your parents ever came across it,” he teases, and she laughs a little as he wipes at the corner of her eye with his thumb.
“But you’d risk it just for me, wouldn’t you?”
He gazes up at her with such awe, such adoration, that it makes her ache.
“For you, I’d risk everything.”
#romanogers#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#chanty writes#chanty's smut#xo stardust720#sleepygrimm#sassaspazz#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4#royal 'verse
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Oliver/Kara with as many of these prompts as possible: 5,10,18,29, 32, and/or 40. Sorry I couldn't narrow it down. All these prompts are so good!
also inspired by this post - “chocolate chip cookies as a method of manipulation” - and by this gif (nsfw)
5. Fingernails scratching deeply down his back. + 10. I want you to mark me. + 18. Your wish will be my command. + 29. Kiss me up against the wall. + 32. It’s okay to leave a bruise. + 40. Pressed hard up against the wall.
1.8k 2k follower celebration!
It’s not bribing.
Well, maybe just a little.
She knows that, despite all of his playful pouting and exasperated murmurs under his breath, he isn’t really put out by the fact that everyone is coming over tomorrow. For one, it had been his idea that they do it like this, where it’s low-key and far more personal than renting out a restaurant like Thea suggested. For another, he knows how much she’s wanted to host something since they moved in together almost three months ago, but schedules didn’t allow for that. They’ve had their friends over, but not altogether like this, and it’s silly, kind of, but she’s excited. He is, too, but she’s just a little worried that he may not be when she tells him what she’d agreed to in the hour since he disappeared into the office to take a call.
“Let’s make a new house rule,” Oliver says, his voice somehow exasperated and amused at the same time as it floats down the hallway. “Neither of us are allowed to take calls after midnight, business or otherwise,” he announces as he steps into the kitchen, and then pauses in the doorway when he sees her.
“Was that Thea?” she asks, spooning another dollop of chocolate chip cookie dough onto the baking sheet. She knows without having to look down that she’d gotten butter on the white button-down she’d plucked off of his side of their bedroom floor, probably smudged a little bit of chocolate somewhere, because it seems that she can’t avoid making a mess whenever she’s in the kitchen. But she also knows that’s not what’s caught his attention.
“It was,” he answers after a moment, setting his phone down on the kitchen table, and in a few quick strides, he’s standing beside her, sliding his hand under her (his) shirt and over her bare hip, squeezing gently. “You’re baking?”
“I am,” she says, bringing her thumb to her lips and licking off of smudge of cookie dough. She looks up at him from under her eyelashes, blinking.
His lips twitch as he fights off a smile, or more likely a smirk. “Does this have anything to do with what Barry called you about?”
“How did – ?”
“Neither of you are exactly quiet when you’re on the phone,” he interrupts, then ducks his head, capturing her middle and index fingers between his lips and holding her gaze as he sucks at the mix of butter, flour and sugar stuck to her skin. Her stomach flutters, her cheeks flushing, and it’s ridiculous, really, that her husband still makes her feel like a crushing schoolgirl. She makes this little sound as he pulls her fingers out of his mouth and licks his lips, and this time he doesn’t try hiding his smirk. “What exactly are you trying to bribe me into?”
“Nothing,” she breathes, too quickly and too shaky to be convincing.
His eyes twinkle in amusement. “Kara.”
And of course she caves in a second. Of course. “Barry and Iris are spending the night,” she says quickly, all in one breath, and then bites on her lower lip as he blinks at her, then frowns, and she’s not at all surprised by his reaction.
“Why?” His voice is flat, almost pouting.
“Oliver,” she laughs, “because they’re our friends. I mean,” she says, leaning into him, feeling his body tense ever so slightly when her nipples brush against his chest through the thin material of his shirt, “I know Barry can be a little hyper around you, and he’ll be even more hyper when he tell him that we’re pregnant. But,” she grasps his biceps, squeezing them, brushing her lips over his in a quick kiss, “it’ll be fun. You can’t be grumpy when they’re over.”
“Kara.” He dips his head into the curve of her neck, groaning against her pulse. “It’s bad enough I’m going to have to entertain tomorrow night,” he mumbles into her collarbone, skimming his lips down, down, and, oh. He parts his shirt a little more, letting it fall off of one shoulder as he opens it to bare her to him. “The only thing that’ll get me through it is knowing I can touch my wife as soon as we kick everyone out.”
She lets out a breathy, shaky laugh, her hands grasping at the edge of the kitchen counter as he slides onto his knees. He pushes at her knee, spreading her wider, and she dips her head to meet his eyes from between her legs.
“You don’t have to wait for people to be gone to touch me,” she points out.
He hums right against the folds of her sex, and she shivers, arching her neck as she tips it back. How is she already wet when he’d had her only an hour ago? How can his touch make her melt this quickly? He curves his hands over her ass, holding her in place as he takes a long, broad lick of her sex, and her moan echoes through the kitchen. “I don’t think your sister will appreciate me touching you like this,” he mumbles, then sucks at her clit, and her hips roll against his mouth, wanting more. “Pretty sure Barry and Iris won’t, either.”
“Unfair,” she whines as he laps at her. He holds her in place, holds her legs open so that he can bare her little bundle of nerves to every firm, teasing stroke of his tongue, and though she knows, realistically, she can overpower him, it’s as if her body goes pliant under his touch. She can’t think when he’s pulling her apart, let alone attempt to pull herself off of him. “You’re so unfair.”
“Says the girl trying to manipulate me with chocolate chip cookies,” he quips. “You know they’re my favorite. Well.” He kisses the inside of her thigh, letting her body slump forward as he gives her a moment to catch her breath. “Second only to you.”
“I’m not canceling,” she tells him, and, somehow, her voice comes out firm and only a little bit quivery despite the way her every muscle is buzzing. “And you will be pleasant, Oliver Queen. Well,” she amends with a quirk of her lips, and he grins as she mimics his teasing tone, “your version of pleasant, anyway.”
He hums, gently pushing her by her hips, and before she can even blink, he’s up off of the floor and winding an arm around her, lifting her up and pressing her hard against their fridge, making it shudder under their weight. Her legs coil around his hips, and she can feel where he’s hard for her through the front of his sweats. He nibbles on her lower lip in that way that always, always makes her dissolve into a puddle of whines, and she grasps his shoulders, her fingers scratching deeply down his back. He groans, but she knows it’s not from pain.
“It’s okay to leave a bruise,” he murmurs into their kiss, reaching between them to push the waistband of his sweats down, and her lips part in a moan as she feels him rub his tip over her bundle of nerves. She’s not afraid of hurting him anymore, at least, not in the way she was when they first slept together. It’s hard to be anything but confident, to feel anything but sexy and cherished with Oliver touching her the way he does, whispering sweet and filthy words into her ear and groaning in such pure pleasure when she has her hands on him. But still. She loves that his first reaction is always to reassure her, to make sure she feels entirely in control. “I want you to mark me,” he practically growls as he pushes into her in one long, deep thrust, and the back of her head hits the fridge when her spine arches in a burst of pleasure.
His hands slide up her thighs and over her sides, cradling her stomach, the pads of his thumbs stroking over her skin, and it always, always brings a giddy smile to her lips whenever he touches her there. Ever since they found out about the pregnancy, it’s as if he’s drawn to it, his hands constantly slipping under her shirts to stroke her skin, constantly squeezing her in his grip. His calloused touch is surprisingly gentle, almost ticklish, and it makes her squirm and wiggle her hips, drawing a low, long groan from his throat as he hitches her higher up the fridge, sinking in deeper.
She skims her fingertips up his back, presses her palms over his shoulders and drawing him closer, closer. “You’re not really mad about having a dinner party, right?” she asks, her voice raspy and soft, and he draws back to meet her gaze without stalling the quick, bruising thrusts of his hips. His eyebrows furrow.
“You want to talk about this now?” he asks, his voice tight with his arousal yet slightly lilted with amusement.
“Yes.” She tries to hold his stare, but his hand slips between them, his thumb slipping through her slick folds and finding her bundle of nerves, and her eyes flutter closed. “Oliver,” she whines, digging her nails into his shoulder blades. He knows she isn’t genuinely worried - he can see it in her eyes - but he kisses her lips and humors her, anyway, because he always does.
“No, I’m not mad.” He groans and slants his mouth over hers again, kissing her harder, deeper, dirtier, and the fridge creaks under the force of them. The only thing she’s wearing is his shirt, which is half-falling off of her, anyway, but it still feels far too hot as it sticks to her skin. His thumb quickens its circles over her clit, and, vaguely, she registers the beep of the oven as it finished preheating.
When she falls apart it’s with a whimper, and she yanks her hands from his shoulders, pressing them flat against the fridge over her head, scratching at the stainless steel as her orgasm bursts over her. He’s still massaging her clit as he thrusts through her high, his hips growing erratic as he chases his own release, and it feels as if her muscles are melting, as if her bones are dissolving into liquid, she’s so overwhelmed with sensation and pleasure.
Oliver groans against her lips when his orgasm hits, his warmth spilling inside her as her walls flutter and tighten around him. She feels as if she’s shaking as she twists her head away, gasping for air as her forehead presses against his
He kisses the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheek, the lobe of her ear, his hand cradling the back of her neck as he eases her off of the fridge. He carries her over to the kitchen table and lays her down, pulling out of her and chuckling at the whimper that leaves her lips because of it. She can feel their release sliding out of her, wetting the inside of her thighs, and she pushes her hair from her forehead as she blinks her eyes open. She’s going to have to sanitize twice as hard tomorrow. Or, knowing Oliver, he’ll have the table replaced first thing in the morning.
She lifts herself up onto her elbows, watching as he kicks his sweats off and into the corner of the kitchen floor. He pulls open the oven door with one hand and grabs the tray of cookies with the other, sliding them into the center of the rack, and he sets the timer before turning back to her. She arches an eyebrow as he places a hand over her chest, kissing her forehead.
“I was promised cookies,” he tells her, and she feels her heart flutter as he gently pushes her to lay back down, her spine flat against the kitchen table. “And I think I’m going to eat them off of you, right here, since I won’t be able to when we have company.”
She giggles, hooking her hand over the back of his neck and drawing him in for another kiss. “Your wish is my command, dear husband.”
#karaliver#oliver x kara#oliver queen#kara zor el#kara danvers#chanty writes#chanty's smut#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4#valiantwhispersheart
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For Six Sexy Words, BatCat please with 2, 7, 22, 47, and 76. Bonus points if it's set in Bruce's office :)
“Bruce and Selina 2,16,56,73 for six sexy words, thanks” requested by an anon
2. Pulling him down by his tie. + 7. I thought of you all day. +16. Her frustration grows. His passion intensifies. + 22. Show me how to please you. + 47. Tell me how you’d fuck me. +56. Holding her roughly while kissing softly. + 73. Watching in the mirror while fucking.+76. When his eyes close in pleasure.
also inspired by this gif
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“You know,” he says, and she glances up from her phone as Bruce steps through the doorway, exasperation tugging at his lips, but his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I don’t know whether to find it irritating or impressing how often you hack yourself through our security.”
“We both know I’ve gotten through far more impressive systems,” she replies as she slides herself off of the corner of his desk and onto her feet.
He chuckles distractedly, his glance flicking down to her lips as he kicks the door shut behind him, the lock clicking into place. His gaze slides down the dip of her dress, pausing at the tease of lace just underneath the neckline,before dipping even lower to trace the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. She bites on the inside of her lip, feeling warm, feeling tingling and flushed as if his stare is a palpable press of those warm, calloused hands over her skin. After so many years of playing pretend, of trying to fight the daunting magnitude of their pull toward each other, she relishes in how openly he stares at her. How adoring, yet incredibly hungry his gaze turns at just the sight of her.
His eyes slide all the way down to the sleek, black stilettos strapped to her ankles, his lips twitching at the corners.
“New shoes?” he asks, in a way that sounds more like a taunting observation rather than an actual question. He steps forward, crosses the distance to her in a few easy strides, and she bites the inside of her lip as he bends to crouch down in front of her, one of his large hands wrapping around the curve of her calf. She braces a hand on his desk behind her, leaning against the edge of it. She should be embarrassed by how instantly this man’s touch affects her, but fuck.
She’s allowed to be turned on by her husband.
(The fact that all he has to do is glance up her dress to find her bare and wet and ready for him makes her feel less like a schoolgirl with a crush.)
“They’re nice,” he says as if he actually gives a damn about her shoes. As if she gives a damn about them when he’s kneading down the back of her calf.
“I think this is much nicer,” she says, and his eyes flick up to meet hers, one eyebrow arched in a question. “I quite like seeing you down there.”
He breathes out a chuckle, sinking onto his knees as he kisses the top of her thigh. She reaches down to cup is face with both hands, tilting his eyes up to meet hers. He slides his hand back up her leg, squeezing behind her knee, and she bites on the inside of her lip. “I thought of you all day,” he tells her, pushing the hem of her dress up a little higher and kissing the skin that he exposed. “Maybe it has something to do with all of the pictures you sent, showing me how to please you,” he murmurs against her thigh. “And all of the voicemails you left, telling me how you’d fuck me.”
She fights off a shiver as she tips her head back, feeling him push her dress up higher, until it’s almost entirely pushed up to her hips.
Then he groans softly into her skin, no doubt in realization that she isn’t wearing panties.
“I think you should visit me at the office more often,” he whispers, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder. He kisses up the inside of her thigh, his breath warm against her sex, and this time she can’t resist the shudder that rolls down her spine. There’s a tease on the tip of her tongue, but of course he knows her. Of course he does. “So I guess I should make it worth your while.”
“I think you should,” she breathes, and then he’s flattening his tongue against her in a long lick, and she pushes her fingers into his hair, twisting it in her grip. He moans against her folds as he laps at her, and she leans forward, blinks her eyelids open to find him peering up at her, his eyes glassy and hazed over. He’s never said as much, but she knows that he loves watching her, loves how she arches and purrs for him, how she completely unravels.
He licks up one side of her clit, teasing at the little bundle of nerves but never quite touching it, and then slides his tongue back down to lick at her entrance. She leans herself against the desk a little more, her leg quivering. She knows she won’t be able to keep herself upright on her thin stiletto for much longer - not when he can so quickly and easily pull her apart like this - but she’s not worried by it at all.
Bruce will catch her if she needs him to. He always does.
“O-oh,” she moans, losing herself in the scratch of his stubble against her thigh, the firm, teasing swipes of his tongue. He thrusts into her once, twice, three times, making her walls flutter, before licking up her slit again. She scratches her nails against his scalp, digging in harder than she probably should, but he just groans in response and closes his lips around her, sucking harder.
She tightens her grip on his hair, tugging and tugging as he rolls his tongue over her folds and up to her clit in one, quick stroke, increasing the pressure with every lick. The heat coils tighter in her stomach, her eyelids practically closed despite the fact that she wants to keep watching the way his head moves under her dress with his every lick, the way his eyelids close in pleasure as he pulls a mewl from her lips.
She’s close, almost embarrassingly so, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care.
Her knee quivers, her leg nearly bucking under her when he slips his tongue into her again, deeper than before. But of course he anticipates it, wrapping his arms around her waist and hoisting her onto the desk in an easy maneuver.
“Fuck,” she breathes, pulling him down by his tie as she lays back against the cool, smooth surface of his desk, her legs falling open again. She’s wet, almost twitching with how close he’d brought her to her release, but she really, really wants to kiss him, so she does. He folds himself over her, slotting between her knees at the edge of the desk as she slips her tongue against his.
But he presses his lips firmly against hers, slowing them down as his hands slide over her hips. He squeezes her in his grip, holding her roughly while kissing her softly, and it’s sort of driving her crazy. He’s forcing himself to be gentle, knowing how much wilder she wants to be, how much rougher she likes it when she’s close. He’s teasing her simply because he can, because he knows her body and her pleasure so well, and she should love it as much as she does.
He presses her a little harder against the desk when she tries to roll her hips up against his, pinning her in place as he eases his lips off of hers, kissing the corner of her mouth, the apple of her cheek, the skin just next to her ear, then dipping down the column of her threat. She exhales shakily, twisting her head as he sucks at her skin, and she catches sight of a mirror on the wall to the right of his desk. A fresh burst of heat unfurls at the base of her spine at the sight of his large, broad torso pressing her into the desk in the reflection, her dress hitched around her hips and her ankles hooked behind the his thighs.
And then her heart skips when he reaches between them, his hands disappearing from sight as she feels his fingers fumble with the buckle of his belt, tug down the zipper of his slacks. He angles his hips away a little, and she’s almost transfixed with their reflection as he pulls himself from his slacks and strokes, once, as he pushes her leg wider apart.
He skims up to her ear, nips at the lobe as he presses at her entrance.
“Now you know why I love watching you,” he whispers, and she’s not at all surprised to have been caught watching. “It’s captivating, isn’t it?”
She bites on the inside of her lip, her eyelashes fluttering as she nods. He kisses the corner of her mouth as he glances out of the corner of his eye to catch her stare in the mirror, and she swears her heart stops for a moment.
Then he pushes into her, slowly, as if making sure she can feel every single inch of him rubbing inside her. Her lips part, her eyelids falling closed as her head falls back against the desk, but then he’s bracing himself with one hand on the desk, using the other to turn her back towards the mirror.
“Open your eyes, love,” he whispers as he starts to move, finding a deep, slow rhythm. She’s practically vibrating with pleasure, the fading tingles from his tongue pushing her toward the edge quickly building back up. She shakes her head, nails scratching down his dress shirt, trying to twist it in her grip, but she can’t quite concentrate on anything with his teasing, almost torturous pace.
He reaches behind to grasp her ankle, hitching her leg up higher as he sinks in even deeper, and her spine arches off of the desk.
“Watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he says, his voice somehow firm yet gentle at the same time. He draws all the way back, until just the tip of him is still inside, her walls aching at the emptiness, and he stills his hips.
She lets out a shaky breath, blinking her eyes open to meet his gaze in their reflection again. His eyes are dark with arousal, but bright with adoration, with love, and she doesn’t quite remember how to breathe. She doesn’t know how he can turn her playful teasing into something bigger, more intense. She had simply meant to rile him up when she sent those pictures, meant for him to feel frustrated and hungry for her when she showed up, maybe a little pissed off by her playing these games with him at work, but instead he worships her with his every touch.
Despite his words, she knows he never just fucks her.
He makes love to her. He makes her feel so entirely adored that she feels seconds away from bursting.
He pulls out and snaps his hips, sinking back into her, and her body arches off of the desk as she struggles not to close her eyes at how deep he is, at how he stretches her. His wedding band glints in the reflection as he cups her cheek, and her skin tingles where it brushes against her.
“I love you,” she breathes.
His thumb swipes up to catch a tear at the corner of her eye. “I love you, too.” Then he kisses the corner of her mouth, turning his head to meet her gaze in the reflection. “And I want you to watch while I show you just how much I do.”
#batcat#bruce wayne#selina kyle#chanty writes#chanty's smut#floydianslip76#anon#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4
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Batcat 8, 39, 72, 80, 90) Love your writing ♡
“i need more batcat fic, pleasee 💕 for six sexy words can I have a 91 and/or 94. add as many as you want but please please please… I love the way you write them. I know that I’ll love anything you write as long as there is batcat inside. :D” requested by an anon
8. Feeling him come inside of you. + 39. Fuck me like you mean it. + 72. Do you want it harder, sweetheart? + 80. Surprise me with something new tonight. + 90. Two fingers gently squeeze her clit. + 91. I want you here and now. + 94. Seeing the bite marks hours later.
(Edit: I realized afterward that I put the prompt for 81 instead of 80 - “The moment he is fully inside.” - yet coincidentally I still included that, just not the phrase itself. Sorry about the mix-up!)
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“Well, darling,” she says, arching an eyebrow as Bruce glances over his shoulder to meet her gaze. “I can’t say I expected to see you in here.”
His lips twitch in a grin as he starts to turn to face her, but she steps forward and slips her arms around his torso from behind, pressing her lips to the back of his neck. He hums, slips one of his large, warm hands over hers against his stomach and rubs the pad of his thumb over her ring. “I was across the street when I saw you come through the store window,” he admits, and she can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I’m trying to decide if I’m offended that this was more important than joining me for lunch.”
“If you’re offended by your wife buying new lingerie then we may have a problem,” she says, and his chest vibrates with a deep chuckle. “And here I thought you’d appreciate being surprised with something new tonight.”
He curls his hand around her wrist, brings it up to kiss the inside of her palm.
“You don’t need to buy something new,” he murmurs against her skin, his lips brushing against her ring. “I’ll just end up tearing it off.”
She can’t help the laugh that bursts from her as she leans away, and he tilts his head to meet her gaze. “How romantic of you.” He smirks, reaches around and pulls her to his chest, and she gently scratches her nails down his back through his dress shirt. “So you wouldn’t like to help me pick out something pretty?”
His gaze flicks down to her lips, and she darts her tongue out to wet them. He swallows, glancing toward the sales associates at the other end of the store still helping a group of women that have been here for the last twenty minutes, no doubt shopping on their lunch break. No one seems to be paying the two of them any attention - no one had even noticed when Bruce first walked in - and what little wariness she’d had about wanting to drag him back to her dressing room dissolves. Honestly, at this point, it’s their fault for not paying attention.
“They’ll probably discourage me from following you back there.”
She reaches up, wraps his tie around her hand and tugs him forward, one eyebrow arched. “When have we ever done what was encouraged?”
He breathes out a chuckle as he leans over, slanting his lips over hers rather than answering, and she tugs him back through the curtains closing off the dressing room. She’s had the dressing rooms all to herself since she walked into the boutique half an hour ago, and with the associates preoccupied with their new customers, Selina doubts anyone will be coming to check on them soon. Still, she drags him into her dressing room, switches the lock into place and pushes him toward the velvet chaise in the corner. If he bothers to glance around, he’d notice all of the lingerie hanging on the rack, and piled on the other end of the chaise. But his hazy, hungry gaze is fixed on her as she grasps at the hem of her dress and tugs it over her head, a low groan falling from his lips when he sees that she had been entirely bare underneath.
“Shush, darling,” she says in an exaggerated whisper, pushing him down by his shoulders so that he’s sitting on the chaise. She slips one hand over his mouth as she climbs onto his lap to straddle him, pressing the index finger of her other hand to her lips. “You don’t want someone coming to interrupt us, do you?”
He hums, nips at the inside of her palm, and she breathes out a soft laugh as she draws her hand away, pushing it up and into his hair. He slips his hand over her hip, down the dip of her legs, and she sucks in a sharp, shallow breath as his fingers find the wet folds of her sex. He arches an eyebrow at her, his smirk sliding back into place as he leans up to kiss her, slowly stroking over her.
“You’re dripping,” he murmurs against her lips, spreading her wetness with his middle finger. She tries to rock into his palm, but his other hand curves over her hip and squeezes, holding her in place. She glances up at him, eyes narrowing. But of course this only makes him chuckle. “Were you thinking of me while you tried everything on?” He leans in, wraps his lips around a nipple and sucks firmly, and she arches into him, letting her head fall back. “Were you taking more pictures to distract me with during my meetings?”
“Not everything is about you, Mr. Wayne.”
She’d meant it to be a taunt, but her voice comes out far too breathy, far too shaky as he slides his hand up, two fingers gently squeezing her clit.
“You’re bruising my ego, Mrs. Wayne,” he plays along, squeezing again, and her hips jerk against his grip. She slides hand over his shoulder, digs her nails into his skin as she tries to roll her hips, needing more. “Do you want it harder, sweetheart?” he asks, then does it again before she can respond, a little firmer this time, and she sucks in a gasp as her walls flutter. It’s ridiculous how much she aches for him to be inside her, and of course he senses this, sliding his fingers away from her clit to dip into her entrance. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, sinking two fingers into her as his thumb brushes her little bundle of nerves. He already knows what she wants - he always does - but he still wants her to say the words. He wants to follow her lead.
Her forehead falling against his as she lets out a sharp, shaky breath. “I want you here and now,” she whispers, then kisses him deep and dirty, and his grip on her hips loosens, letting her sink herself further onto his fingers. “I want to feel you come inside of me.” She twists the hand in his hair, tugs it in her grasp because she knows he loves that tiny bite of pain as much as she does. “I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”
He kisses her harder, muffling his groans into her mouth as curls his fingers inside of her, finding that sweet spot that always, always makes her cry out. She bites down hard on his lower lip to keep from making a noise, but he doesn’t even flinch, curling his fingers again as his thumb slides firmly over her clit and starts circling. She’s shaking, her walls fluttering, and she knows that she’ll fall apart too damn soon if he keeps that up, and she doesn’t want that right now.
She wants him.
“Bruce,” she breathes out, almost in a whine, but she couldn’t care less. There’s nothing and no one that makes her feel more empowered than this man beneath her, and she’ll gladly beg if it means seeing his eyes entirely glazed over in arousal, his keen, determined focus fixed solely on her.
He pulls his hand away, letting her catch her breath as she reaches between them and fumbles with the buckle of his belt, yanking it open. His jaw clenches when she slips inside and wraps her hand around him, drawing him out, and she licks her lips as the wetness she feels against her palm. She spreads it with her thumb, then slides herself closer, guiding his length between her wet folds and sliding herself over him. His jaw ticks, his throat flexing as he swallows tightly, and she has the urge to giggle.
Fuck, they’re so ridiculous.
“Won’t last long,” he groans, not sounding even a little be ashamed or regretful. As much as he enjoys teasing her and outlasting her, simply because that’s how they are - so incredibly, playfully competitive, and probably far more childish than people would expect - he enjoys losing himself in her more. It’s not a matter of pride for him when he’s with her; he simply takes, and he does it with the comfort of knowing that she’s just as greedy.
“Probably a good thing,” she says, kissing the scruff along his jaw as she lifts herself over him, presses him at her entrance. “We’re pushing our luck as it is.”
“That’s never exactly stopped us before,” he points out, and her soft, breathy laugh quickly dissolves into a moan as he grasps her hips and sinks her over him, until their hips are flushed. She digs her nails into his scalp, a white-hot rush of warmth shooting through her just as it does with every first thrust. She hopes it never stops feeling this perfect, hopes it never stops feeling this intense.
He guides her up and then back down, knowing that she always needs a moment to relish in the deep, full stretch of him, even though they hardly have the luxury of taking their time. She kisses up his jaw, over his cheek, and then presses her mouth to his as she starts to roll her hips on her own, quickly finding a rhythm. There’s a soft, almost melancholic tune playing over the speakers of the store, but it’ll hardly be enough to muffle the sounds of them and she’s far, far too turned on by that than she should be. She’s had Bruce in his office, in bathrooms of hotels and restaurants and art museums during galas and charity functions, but this is something else entirely. She doesn’t dare make a sound, knows that she can’t, but part of her still aches to cry out as he starts to thrust up into her, almost bruising in his pace and his force.
He digs one hand into her hip again, slides the other down and between her legs, finding her clit and circling, and a moan slips past her lips before she can quite catch herself. He kisses her harder, muffling her sounds as he presses his thumb a little firmer, making her body shudder, making her close her eyes so tightly she sees stars.
“Can you stay quiet?” he asks, licking into her gasping mouth before drawing back to meet her eyes, and she bites on her lip. She really doesn’t know, but she’s close - so, so close - and she doesn’t dare want him to stop. So he tips his head back, arching his neck, and her fingers fumble to loosen the knot of his tie, get the top two buttons of his shirt undone to peel back his collar. He snaps his hips, hitting that sweet spot in her as his thumb presses, and she sinks her teeth into the curve of his shoulder so hard that she swears she can taste blood. His chest rumbles in a low, low groan, muffled by the tight set of his jaw.
She licks at the indent of her teeth, soothing the bruise that she knows will be there, but then he’s angling his hips and hitting that spot again and again and again, and she bites down, harder, feeling his pulse throb against her tongue. She whimpers and moans, muffling her sounds into his neck as he pushes her right on that dizzying edge, and everything grows blurry and dizzy and white-hot as her orgasm bursts over her. She thinks her cries are perfectly smothered as she sinks her teeth into his neck, but honestly, she can’t entirely be sure.
He keeps thrusting through her high, his hips growing erratic, growing harsher as he chases his own orgasm, and she’s not sure how long it takes but then his warmth is spilling inside her and his hands are tightly digging into her hips as he holds her flushed to him, her walls fluttering and tightening as his orgasm crashes over him.
She loosens her jaw when, finally, her breathing starts to even out, the tremors of her high rippling over her, and then she eases herself back.
Fuck. She touches her fingertips to the angry, harsh bites of her teeth in his neck, glancing up to meet his gaze. He grins, giving her a soft, reassuring kiss to the bridge of her nose, and she gently rubs the color beginning to bruise along his throat. At least she’d had the forethought to bite underneath his collar because there’s absolutely no way he’ll be able to hide those marks.
“You know,” she says after a moment, her voice raspy and a little uneven in her effort to catch her breath. “You didn’t even glance at any of the lingerie.”
His chest vibrates against hers with a chuckle. “Just surprise me with something new tonight,” he tells her, lifting his hand to run his knuckles over her flushed cheek, and her heart does this little flutter in her chest. “As long as it’s you, I’ll love it.”
#batcat#bruce wayne#selina kyle#chanty writes#chanty's smut#batfamskitty#anon#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4
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Wowzas im shy. But could I have Buckyhill #1,39,40,95?
1. Naughty girls are always worth it. + 39. Fuck me like you mean it. + 40. Pressed hard up against the wall. + 95. Don’t waste it. Come inside me.
also inspired by this photo (nsfw)
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“You know, darling,” he says, his voice low and just a little bit gravelly in the small, dark space of her room, and she spins around on her heels as he flicks on the bedside lamp. “You sure know how to keep a guy waiting.”
Her lips twitch, threatening to curve into a smile. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
He chuckles as he eases himself off of her bed, and she lets her gaze trace down his bared chest, lingering at where his sweats are hanging low on his hips as he walks over to her. He reaches for her with his metal hand, gently grasps her chin in his fingers and tips her head back to meet his gaze. His lips curve at the corners in a small smirk, and he leans in, brushes his mouth over hers in a gentle, barely there kiss, the way he does every time she comes home. He’s only started spending nights at her apartment within the last three months, but it’s easy for her to forget what it was like before he’d become such an apparent presence in her home, in her life.
She eases her lips off of his, kisses the corner of his mouth before drawing away. “You didn’t have to stay up for me, sergeant,” she says, her voice softer as she leans into him a little more. She’s exhausted, but she can already feel it ebbing as he wraps his arms around her, draws her flushed to his chest.
“It’s alright.” He gives her that dimpled, boyish smile of his that almost always makes her swoon, just a little bit. “Naughty girls are always worth it.”
“Naughty?” she repeats with a raise of her eyebrows.
“You’ve let me bend you over the conference table and take you from behind,” he tells her, his voice smooth and deep and almost dangerous as he leans in and nips at her jaw. “You come to work without underwear because you know I’ll drag you into your office as soon as I find out.” He presses his face into her neck, exhaling a sharp, hot breath, and her eyelashes flutter at the tease of his lips against her throat. “You threw me onto the mats and rode me in the middle of the gym because you were so damn pissed that pinned you.” He sinks his teeth into her pulse, and she bites down on her lower lip to stifle a moan. “You are incredibly naughty, Director Hill.”
She breathes out a laugh. “I think that’s because you’re a bad influence.”
He draws away, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “You’re too damn stubborn to be influenced.” He tugs at the zipper of her dress, dragging it down her back, and she feels it starting to fall away from her shoulders as she holds his gaze. “Though maybe you can be persuaded to let me join you in the shower?”
She hums as she steps back, letting her dress fall to the floor, and a smirk tugs at her lips as his lips part ever so slightly, taking in the fact that she hadn’t been wearing anything underneath. “Is that a question or a command, Barnes?”
A low, rumbling groan rips from his throat, sounding very close to a growl as his lips are on hers again, harder and deeper and dirtier. He wraps his metal arm around her, all but dragging her forward and into the bathroom, and she sucks in a gasp as she feels herself being pressed hard up against the wall. He snaps at the clasp of her bra, pushing it off, and then he yanks her panties down with a harsh tug, biting down on her lower lip.
She presses her hands against his chest, drags her nails down the dips of his muscles and then slips past the waistband of his sweats. He groans as her fingers wrap around him, finding the wetness of his tip and spreading it over her palm before stroking down his length. “Sergeant,” she says, and his eyes blink open, his gaze a little hazed over as he meets her stare. She squeezes gently and his jaw ticks in his effort not to groan. “Turn on the water.”
“Fucking bossy,” he breathes out with a grin, stumbling a little as he steps backward. She keeps the strokes of her hands tight and teasing as he fumbles for the handle on the wall, very nearly tearing it off as he twists the water on.
“You love it when I’m bossy,” she retorts, using her free hand to push his sweats down his hips, and then he’s laughing as he slants his mouth over hers and bats her hand away, tugging her with him under the spray of the shower.
“Oh, darling,” he says against her lips, “it’s definitely the other way around.”
She leans away, arching an eyebrow as his metal hand slides over the curve of her ass, giving it a squeeze and very nearly making her jump.
“Turn around and put your hands on the wall,” he commands, and her heart stutters in her chest, a warmth unfurling in her stomach at his tone. There’s a bit of a smirk on his lips as he raises his eyebrows, almost as if daring her to challenge him, though he knows she won’t. Because she does love it. She loves it when he’s demanding, loves it when he’s rough, and there’s no one that can quiet her thoughts quite like him. His hand squeezes her ass again, just a little bit harder, and her lips part in a soft, strangled sort of moan as he repeats: “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”
She narrows her eyes ever so slightly, just because she feels like being stubborn, and he chuckles as she finally complies. She bends at her hips when she’s facing away from him, leaning over to press her palms flat against the tile. The spray from the water slides down her back, drips down her shoulders and over her breasts, making her arch her spine in an urge to shiver.
Then his hands slide over her hips, squeezing gently as the hard length of him presses between her legs.
“Remember the last time I had you like this?” he asks, leaning over her to kiss the top of her spine, then skimming his lips down the curve of her shoulder to bite into her skin. She draws a breath to tell him that she does; she remembers him pushing her up against the wall of showers in the locker room of the Facility, remembers the way her heart had nearly stopped when she heard Sam and Steve’s voices filtering in from the lockers. She remembers how it was the first time she and Bucky had ever gone without a condom, remembers how she felt so entirely overwhelmed by the bare stretch of him against her folds that she fucking begged for him not to pull out. (“Don’t waste it,” she’d demanded when she felt his hips jerking, his muscles tightening as his orgasm neared. “Come inside me.”)
But before she can even get a word out, he’s sinking into her from behind slowly - so fucking slowly - and her moan echoes off of the walls. He always feels so much deeper like this, making her knees quiver, making her walls flutter. She mewls as he pulls out, then scratches her nails against the tile as he snaps his hips, sinking back in. He does this once, twice, three times, his lips brushing against the curve of her throat as he finds a slow, teasing rhythm.
It’s somehow too much and not enough, and she groans in frustration, trying to roll her hips against the firm grip of his hands.
“Barnes,” she breathes, his name almost a curse, or maybe even a plea.
But he ignores her, keeping the deep, torturous pace of his thrusts as he continues with, “Every time I take a shower at the Facility, all I can picture is you pressed between me and the wall, biting down on my hand to keep from making a sound.” He bites down on her shoulder again, then soothes the indent of his teeth with a soft lick, smirking into her skin. “Sam and Steve almost walked in on us.” He snaps his hips, making her gasp with the sudden, sharp thrust, and a shiver rolls down her spine. “I think you’d like that.”
She mutters a curse, feeling the pressure tighten at the base of her spine, her heart stuttering in her chest.
“I think that’s why you like fucking at the Facility so much.” His hand slips between her legs, his fingers gliding over her slick folds to find her little bundle of nerves as his thrusts quicken. “I think you want someone to see us. To see you getting lost in your pleasure, forgetting to give a damn about what needs to be done.” His thumb moves over her clit in quick, tight circles, his other hand digging into her hip as he angles himself and thrusts in even deeper.
“Fuck me harder, sergeant.” She licks her lips, her breaths coming out quicker and shallower, her lungs burning. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
He groans, curves his body over hers as he draws his hand up from between her legs, pressing his fingers at her lips. She darts her tongue out, licking her wetness off of him, and then he grunts out a, “fuck,” as she wraps her lips around his thumb and sucks.
Her knees quiver, his thumb pressing harder into her mouth as the hand at her hip grips her so tightly that it almost hurts. She’s close, she’s so close–
Then, with a soft, feather-light kiss to her ear, he stills his hips, halting her right on that dizzying edge, and she whimpers. He slips his thumb out from between her lips, grasps her chin and tilts her head back to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark and stormy as he licks his lips, and she feels her stomach flutter at that dangerous twinkle in his gaze.
“You made me wait, darling, so now it’s your turn,” he tells her, his lips twitching in a smirk as he brushes her hair from her face. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
She breathes out a laugh, which dissolves into a moan as he starts to pull back out again, sending another ripple down her spine.
She fucking loves being home.
#winterhill#buckyhill#bucky x maria#bucky barnes#maria hill#chanty writes#chanty's smut#anon#six sexy words meme#six sexy words meme round 4
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On a different but related note, do you have any poly ships involving Bruce and Selina?
No, I don’t.
Also to answer your question from your other ask:
Wait, for the six sexy words meme, do you only do each ship once per round, or can you do one ship twice if two people both send prompts for it? Because I'd love to see any 2 from 4, 8, 26, 74, 76, 114, 122, 128 or 130 for batcat
The answer is I’m only doing the six sexy word phrase once, which is why I cross them off on the post. But I will definitely be filling multiple requests with the same ships! So don’t worry: even though I’ve filled a batcat request once already I will absolutely be writing them again.
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