( His cock twitches, stomach clenching. He doesn't know when he last felt this way, too hot, too tight, arousal choking him of oxygen.
He doesn't want to stop it. )
you think i'm easy?
( He is. She doesn't need to know that. ( Except, he has a feeling she does. ) )
does it help if i tell you i'm leaking over my fingers right now? that i'm undone in a shitty little apartment because all i can think about is you holding me down?
[ She's smiling to herself, bottom lip caught between her teeth at the picture she's painted of him in her mind's eye, waiting for each of her messages to come in with impatience. Natasha is aching for him, heat pulsing between her thighs, but she continues to avoid touching herself in favor of giving him her full attention. ]
Touch yourself when you think about it. Slowly, drag it out for me.
( Surprisingly, he doesn't flinch when she calls him soldier. Surprisingly, it just makes him feel all the harder. Bucky doesn't stifle his moan, the building's practically derelict and the people who do stay here are definitely the type to keep themselves to themselves. )
jesus. at least it'd be more fun than you trying to strangle me with your thighs.
( Because she does end up on his shoulders a lot. He can imagine it without the attempted murder. )
i'd be good though. make up for everything. my tongue buried inside of you. i'd let you take your time, drag it out. hands in my hair, riding my mouth. i bet you'd smell good. i bet you'd taste good.
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no subject
He doesn't want to stop it. )
you think i'm easy?
( He is. She doesn't need to know that. ( Except, he has a feeling she does. ) )
does it help if i tell you i'm leaking over my fingers right now?
that i'm undone in a shitty little apartment because all i can think about is you holding me down?
no subject
Is that all you're thinking about?
Not what it would feel like to have my fingers buried in you until I have you writhing?
Or the view you would have if I straddled that soft mouth of yours?
Just me holding you down?
[ She's smiling to herself, bottom lip caught between her teeth at the picture she's painted of him in her mind's eye, waiting for each of her messages to come in with impatience. Natasha is aching for him, heat pulsing between her thighs, but she continues to avoid touching herself in favor of giving him her full attention. ]
Touch yourself when you think about it. Slowly, drag it out for me.
no subject
jesus.
at least it'd be more fun than you trying to strangle me with your thighs.
( Because she does end up on his shoulders a lot. He can imagine it without the attempted murder. )
i'd be good though. make up for everything. my tongue buried inside of you. i'd let you take your time, drag it out. hands in my hair, riding my mouth.
i bet you'd smell good. i bet you'd taste good.