He doesn’t have to tell her twice. A little moan - more like a gasp with some voice in it - slipped from her mouth and she tightened her grip on his shoulders, feeling the friction between her legs from where his erection had begun to press into her. Heat and bodies were mingling and she let herself fall into the ease of being kissed hard, let her mind be quieted by the feeling of his mouth hungry against her own.
This was the kind of relief she needed. On nights where sleep eluded her and where coffee wasn’t enough to take away the bite of her tiredness, she needed to lose herself in the physicality of something like sex or pain. It rejuvenated her and revitalised her, making her heart race and pump the positive emotions through her blood stream. ❝ Don’t care. ❞ She grunted in reply, her mouth tugging away from his to leave bites along his jaw and at his throat, nails grazing over his scalp idly. ❝ Fuck me on the counter or on the floor. Fuck me against a wall if you want. Just do it. ❞
Her hips arched towards him, grinding themselves against his body and realising that she was stuck in her own pants. His were pajamas, they were easily disposed of. She had to get free of her running gear somehow, too. With his hands on her, keeping her lifted, she kicked away her shoes and readjusted her body against him, crashing her lips against his again with a murmur of, ❝ If I don’t get these pants off, neither of us get what we want. ❞
‴look atcha,‴ a growly comment passes his lips, a small laugh following shortly after. Sure, he was pretty eager himself, but to be met with the same level of eagerness made his heart race for a moment. Kinda made him feel like when he was a teenager having sex for the first time. Fumbling around and nervous out of his goddamn mind. The nervousness was gone, he had nothing to be ashamed of…nothing to be worried about.
‴So goddamn eager t’ get fucked–and heck, t’ get fucked by me.‴ Let him live, Nat. Don’t say that he was just the closest–because he’d probably lose the mood then. Just…play along. Let him be happy. He’d also be glad to fuck her in different places in his apartment, especially against the wall, it was a personal favorite. The bites against his throat only made the man more eager to please, one hand wandering from her leg to grasp at her ass, still attempting to keep this whole balance stable especially as she shifts around to kick her shoes off.
At this point, he’s really not the one for kissing, he prefers to move now, but she’s having issues–and having their mouths together is one of them. ‴Well then, I’m gonna put you down and we can see who can get your pants off the fastest.‴ He doesn’t waste any time, nearly just dropping her down, but making sure she stays on her feet. Wouldn’t want any nasty tumbles while they’re trying to have sex. Stepping back, Brock drops to his knees–an odd sight. Please take it in and appreciate it, Natasha. His fingers fiddle with her pants, lips kissing across her hips and partially down her thighs. ‴ya know what would be fun–nah–nah, for later. It’ll be for later, pretend I ain’t said nothin’. Jus’ get these damn pants off. My dick is startin’ t’ hurt.‴
❝ Sex is sex. There’s always a bit personal. You’ve got two people putting pieces of each other into body parts. I’m okay with that kind of personal. ❞ He was gruff and she felt a smirk tugging at her lips and leaned into the counter as he moved closer. But there’s no cowering, feeling the tightness in his pants against her. He dwarfed her in height but Natasha was far from backing down, instead dragging her fingers from a spot on his chest down to the waistband of his pajamas and giving the elastic a little flick. ❝ Easy, tiger. ❞
She used the moment of shifting to prop her hands onto the counter and pull herself up, legs draping around his hips lazily to tug him in and eager fingers slipping into his hair while she hovered her lips over his, ❝ If you just want me to look at you, the sex is gonna be pretty boring. I was hoping for a lot more touch to be involved. ❞ Natasha crushed her mouth against his then, dragging fingertips over his scalp and tightening her legs so that he would grind against her.
‴Sex doesn’t have t’ be super damn personal,‴ is all he manages, because, really, it doesn’t have to be personal…well, to him it doesn’t. He’s used to having sex with someone and never talking to them again. It’s just how he rolled usually–he didn’t get attached because his line of work called for near death a lot. He wasn’t so selfish as to drag someone into a relationship and then possibly die. He wasn’t ready to hurt someone that way. He was a horrible man, sure. Just not that horrible.
Now, wait, that’s ruining his boner. Uh, right. Oh.
Natasha was talking to him–and a hand was going down his chest. Oh hello there. He smirks lightly, rumbling softly in response to her attentions, hands fitting at her waist as she lifts onto the counter. And fuck yes, he’s pressed against her a little better now. His eyes flicker down between them, his hands pulling her closer to him, Rumlow pressing his hard heat against her legs with a low growl.
‴Ya know–‴ he starts, huffing into her quick kiss before squeezing her waist, hips pressed harder to her body in an attempt to get some much needed friction. His kiss is filled with a deep hunger, their equal taste of bitter coffee stirring into Rumlow’s mouth and nearly making him grumble happily. It’s one thing to kiss someone, it’s another to be hungry for it, to want it to not end, so he deepens it, head tilting and arms winding around her.
Her sitting on the counter doesn’t last too long, the man breaking for air and hoisting her up, a hand drifting to the back of her leg as the other stays around her body. ‴I don’t think we’ll make it t’ the bed,‴ he pants, biting her lip as he goes back for another hungry kiss.
Her mouth twisted into a wicked smirk as she watched the cogs turning in his head and the realisation of the implications in her words. Nat could wait. It wasn’t the first time someone was stunned into silence with the bluntness of her proposition. She appreciated the fact that he was shocked, however, because that meant he didn’t think that every woman would sleep with him without question. Which meant he probably wasn’t getting so much sex that she’d have to call before rocking up on a restless night like this one. ❝ Yes, Brock, something about sex. Something about sex between you and I and the fact that to get a good night’s sleep, sometimes I need to fuck someone. And you’re close by. ❞
A low breath passed through her lips as she leaned close, running her finger around the rim of the mug and catching a drip from the trickle on the tip of said digit. Slipping it between her lips - in a pointedly erotic manner - she moved to grin at him and spoke plainly. ❝ I like sex. It helps me relax after the shit storm that is my day to day life. So does sparring. So, ergo, I’m asking if you would like to have sex or spar with me. Plus, you know, I really like it when you get all growly. That might be the other reason I’m here. ❞
‴Sex is good–I know sex.‴ Brock strong. Brock smart. God, he was tired. Brock clears his throat probably for the hundredth time, eyes flickering to watch Natasha’s expressions and her body language. She was being serious, wasn’t she? And why the hell was it already getting a little too tight in his pajama pants…? He’s never gonna live this down–oh look, she’s sucking on her finger, which in turn makes him think about her sucking on his–
‴So—bedroom.‴
Straightforward, Brock, straightforward.
‴Unless you think that shit’s too personal, huh? Why do ya think I offered the couch?‴ He tries to play it cool, like he had that plan all along, but she had totally stacked everything against him, he was waaaay under her now. ‴ya know–you could just…‴
Frowning, Brock takes a step closer, his mug on the counter now and his hand coming up. He was tired of talking now. A hand reaches out for her, a low growling sound erupting from his throat as he nearly stares her down, pushing her back against the counter. He does step forward again, crowding in at her personal space to keep her cornered–or maybe she’ll hop up on the counter. Even better if she did.
‴jus’ fuckin’ look at me.‴ Another growl and the man smirks, licking his lip–he’s waiting for her jump, to know she’s as serious as her talk.
❝ Testy. Sounds like you really do need that coffee. ❞ She laughed at the nickname he’d picked for himself and made a pointed glance downwards at the word ‘Bones’ before she raised her gaze to his face once again. ❝ The offer is a good one, though. I’m just not fond of couches when there’s a perfectly good bed I can slip into. I’ll take it should the situation not arise- ❞ another glance downwards and a snicker, ❝ -where the other is available. ❞
Sliding over to where he stood, she took a long sip of her coffee and licked the bitter liquid from her lips, ❝ Do you get a lot of visitors at three am? Because if this is a good time to get you all riled up I might have to make a habit of it. Looks like you’ve got enough coffee in that mug that you can decide whether or not I’m a figment of your sexual imagination now. I’m not, just saying, and the reason I chose your place is cause I figured of all the squad, you would be the least averse to a visitor at this hour. Especially if that visitor just wanted a way out of her own head and was offering a way for you to get the same. Sparring. Sex. A deep and meaningful conversation about our existences. You know, I could go for any of them, right now. ❞
He was too busy with watching the coffee drip to even consider snapping back a comment at her. He just needed some time to think…yeah…think…but now Natasha is talking about his bed and Brock lifts his head, looking in her direction and trying to decide what to say.
She’s getting closer and Brock’s having a hard time figuring out what to do. The lack of coffee and well, the beautiful woman in his apartment is making it real hard to think. ‴uhhhh–‴ is his brilliant response, the man pulling his mug from under the drip and taking a long drink, replacing it back under once the burning coffee had been swallowed by the man. He’s done that a few too many times.
‴All I got was somethin’ bout sex.‴ He replies honestly, the poor man’s eyes big and round–something rare for him. Was he gettin’ stupid at the thought of sex with Natasha? Of course he was.
She watched the slow and steady drip from the machine and flicked her gaze back to him, amused as the realisation hit him and shrugging a singular shoulder. Natasha wasn’t one to deny the bodily urges when they reared their heads. They made a good way of relaxing when she was restless - it was the same reason she and Steve sparred late into the night. A way to give her body the exhaustion her mind needed.
❝ A couch, really? For a pretty girl? I thought you were better than that when it came to ladies. I’d heard better from round HQ. Maybe it’s the lack of caffeine. Do you need it to-you know-get it up? Or are you embarrassed to have a lady caller? ❞
the coffee was taking far too damn long, Brock found himself almost lulled off to a sleep as he watched the steady drips into his cup. His fingers tap against the counter slowly, his heart rate picking up just the slightest. Okay, well, obviously she was just trying to bait him…right? She couldn’t possibly be thinking about staying in his bed and having sex with him…
‴Well, I was jus’ suggesting, thought you wouldn’t wanna share a bed with mister Bones over here.‴ Yes, he just called himself mister Bones.
Brock squints a bit at her jab, the man turning to face her, a hand going out to point his finger at her. ‴I can get it up jus’ fine. It’s jus’ that if you fuckin’ insist you come over at fuckin’ three in the morning, I need coffee t’ stay up.‴
Insult his apartment, insult his choice of socks and matching boxers–but don’t assume he can’t get his dick up when the situation arises. Was that stupid? Probably? Did Brock think it was? No. He thought with his dick, especially at three A.M.
❝ Could you lie to me? Or would you lie beneath me? Wait. ❞ She gave a smirk as she sipped the coffee, her eyes amused and pleased with the responses. There was always innuendo to be had in conversations with Brock and she found herself utterly enjoying flinging dirty references his way. ❝ Blowjobs, huh. I was definitely not implying that, not one bit. ❞
She slid her body up onto the counter, crossing her ankles idly, ❝ Tuck you in, fuck you in. In actuality I’m bored out of my mind and I can’t sleep and your place was closest. Like your socks, by the way. ❞
‴Wait–what?‴ He’s doing a double take here, eyes going wide as he nearly chokes on his own breath. It surely wakes him up a bit, the man blinking and suddenly feeling a lot more awake than he did a minute ago. It was too late for this–he wasn’t sure if she actually meant it, or if she was just tossing dirty jokes at him to rouse him.
Or was it arouse?….heh.
‴Well, the couch is open for ya. Could get some blankets – thanks – and you’ll have a damn good time sleepin’ there with all the coffee you could ever ask for.‴ Speaking of coffee, Brock’s now just got his skull mug under the drip, watching the mug fill up.
Nat was playful. More playful than anyone should be, considering the hour, and the coffee in her hand was hard evidence that she was entirely relying on a caffeine buzz. And unfortunately, Brock and his kitchen were on the receiving end of her late-night visits. ❝ You know, looking at you no one would know you’ve got a squishy cuddly centre. Because you do. You can’t lie to me. ❞ She cocked her head to the side as she leaned against the counter, ❝ It’s like a tootsie pop. Takes a couple of licks to get to that gooey centre. ❞
Very unfortunate indeed.
Brock leans against the counter, eyes closed and a yawn escaping the man once or twice. He didn’t have his own batch of coffee, the woman always stealing it before he can manage his own cup.
‴I’m sure if I tried hard enough t’ lie, I could do it.‴
Another yawn has the old man rumbling and stretching out a little before he’s shuffling over to try and get his own coffee from the god sent coffee maker. His favorite thing that he owned.
‴Ya know, you say a few licks, but that just comes off as a blowjob.‴
He comments lazily, his tiredness lifting the cap off his filter and letting just about anything spill outta his mouth.
‴And I’m gonna ask again why yer here. You here t’ tuck me in or somethin’?‴
