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Entry tags:
Ships in the Night
Who: Sharon Carter, Kobra Kid
When: Evening, Day 61
Where: Around town
What: Both Sharon and Kobra are searching for prey. This could be a mutually beneficial relationship.
Bruce has done his best. Steve- No, don't think about Steve.
She isn't feasting enough. That's the problem.
No, feasting isn't the right word. It can't be the right word. What she'd done to Natasha had nothing to do with feasting, it was worse than that. So much worse. She can't remember how, she can't think how. She can't think.
She feels pain in her fingers, the sort of pain deep in her flesh that says she's been hurting for a while and hasn't noticed. Her fingers. When had they started bleeding? Where had the glass come from?
She looks up, her neck feeling weak, and it occurs to her that she hates when her neck feels weak, but the stars are quite nice. How did her bedroom window get so far away? Isn't her door locked?
The door. Fucking hell. The door is locked. So's the window. But there are evidently ways through the window.
Shaking, Sharon forces herself back against the wall. She can't be out here. There's no telling what she'll do if she's out here. No telling who she'll hurt? Whom? What the fuck, brain? Don't we have bigger problems right now?
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, repeating the exercise until her breath is steady again. First, she has to get the glass out of her palms. Then, she'll focus on getting back inside without hurting someone.
Of course, they do tend to like being hurt. Natasha had, at least.
She groans and hangs her head. No. Fuck, Sharon. Stop thinking like that! And stop thinking fuck and fuck-related things, damn it!
When: Evening, Day 61
Where: Around town
What: Both Sharon and Kobra are searching for prey. This could be a mutually beneficial relationship.
Bruce has done his best. Steve- No, don't think about Steve.
She isn't feasting enough. That's the problem.
No, feasting isn't the right word. It can't be the right word. What she'd done to Natasha had nothing to do with feasting, it was worse than that. So much worse. She can't remember how, she can't think how. She can't think.
She feels pain in her fingers, the sort of pain deep in her flesh that says she's been hurting for a while and hasn't noticed. Her fingers. When had they started bleeding? Where had the glass come from?
She looks up, her neck feeling weak, and it occurs to her that she hates when her neck feels weak, but the stars are quite nice. How did her bedroom window get so far away? Isn't her door locked?
The door. Fucking hell. The door is locked. So's the window. But there are evidently ways through the window.
Shaking, Sharon forces herself back against the wall. She can't be out here. There's no telling what she'll do if she's out here. No telling who she'll hurt? Whom? What the fuck, brain? Don't we have bigger problems right now?
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, repeating the exercise until her breath is steady again. First, she has to get the glass out of her palms. Then, she'll focus on getting back inside without hurting someone.
Of course, they do tend to like being hurt. Natasha had, at least.
She groans and hangs her head. No. Fuck, Sharon. Stop thinking like that! And stop thinking fuck and fuck-related things, damn it!
no subject
He's distracted and Lydia's missing and he just needs to remind himself that sometimes she does this an whatever she is, she's probably just hiding somewhere.
That's when he spots Sharon and the guilt wells up a little in his chest. He doesn't think Bruce has told her anything, but he's not totally sure. Trusting doesn't com easy.
"Uh, whoa, Sharon, you okay?"
no subject
She pushes herself to her feet, not noticing the shards of glass she picks up with the move. She only sees him. Only sees the golden light beneath his skin that she wants to consume. "Kobra." Her voice is different, somehow teasing and authoritative at the same time. She walks to him and cups his cheek with a hand. Mmm. He'll do in a pinch, certainly.
Decided, she leans forward and presses her lips to his. The kiss is soft, but only for now. If she has prey right here, why would she bother going elsewhere?
no subject
So okay, a hot woman is kissing him and obviously he's kissing back, because hello. Truthfully, Sharon is exactly his type, or she would be if he didn't think that she was potentially an evil fuck and, oh yeah, the fact that there's a difference between a woman who can snap him in half and one who might actually want to.
Right now, he's not really thinking with the upstairs brain, though, so none of that really matters.
no subject
She glances at the grass and frowns. She could take him here and now, but it's cold out, and it might impede things. She flashes him another grin and holds a finger to his lips, leading him into the house. Holding his hand tightly, she hurries quietly up the stairs and to her bedroom. Locked from the outside. No matter. The key's right across the hall.
She unlocks the door and pulls him inside before closing it again. There. Now no one will know.
She turns to face him and smiles again. "Alone at last." She presses herself against him for another kiss, her hands sliding beneath his shirt. His skin is cool, but she can work with that.
no subject
He doesn't resist even a little, either, following Sharon along until they're in her bedroom and that's just awesome. What a perfect place to be.
Sharon's hands are warm against his skin and that definitely gets him going. His body starts to catch up with the rest of him pretty quickly and then his hands find their way to her hips, pulling her closer as he mumbles against her lips. "What are you going to do with me now that we're alone?"
no subject
"Hope your limber, kid." She smiles, though, because she's only teasing. And she's going to give him plenty of opportunities to prove he isn't a kid.
no subject
It's weird, because he knows that she's only a few years older than he is, but he knows he acts like a kid, even if he's capable of not doing that, but she acts like she's a hundred and twelve.
When the backs of his calves hit the bed, he opens his eyes again, shifting around so that he can shrug out of his jacket and pull his shirt over his head. He's got a dopey grin on his face--the one he always has when sex is imminent.
OMG your =/= you're. Kobra does not sell wood, but if he did, I'm sure the wood he would sell would
"Don't you know not to assume things, Kobra?" She watches as he pulls off his jacket and smirks as she spots a strip of skin beneath the shirt. She watches it grow, humming to herself as she undoes her jeans and kicks off her shoes. Underwear, then jacket and shirt follow. The bra is the last thing to go, and she watches him steadily as she undoes the clasp.
After that, she doesn't ask if he's ready or if he might have reservations, she just presses a hand against his chest and gives him a strong push onto the bed.
no subject
Getting Kobra to lie down on a bed is like asking a kid if they want candy and he's more than happy to let her lead, though it does distract him away from his belt. Now that he's really looking, Sharon is hot. She's always been his type, but damn.
no subject
She crawls over him, her skin gliding over his. She hums faintly, lifting her head to watch as she trails a hand up his side. When the hand had trailed up all the way and lost itself in his hair, she lowers her lips to his. She can feel that power, so close to her reach. Something seems wrong about it somehow, but she isn't particularly bothered. She wants that power.
no subject
One hand goes back to his belt, opening it and his fly shakily. His other hand slides up her back, urging her closer as he's overcome with need. Is she as into this as he is? Because he is pretty much aching to be inside her right now.
no subject
And then, then, it occurs to her what's so wrong about this situation. Normally, she'd be touching that power by now, but instead, it's just beyond her reach. She frowns, her lips against his neck.
"What are you?"
no subject
"Vampire." He grins and shows his teeth. "My bite feels good. Really good."
He wonders what it would feel like mid-orgasm. Oh, he is going to rock some worlds.
no subject
"Do you want to bite me, Kobra?" Something in her tone makes it clear she isn't asking. She rolls to the side and crooks a finger to beckon him closer. She watches him as she cranes her neck. Her eyes wander down his body, barely taking in the scars and tattoos. She just wants to see his cock. No, she doesn't want to see it. She wants to feel it. She parts her legs. "Kobra. I want you to fuck me. To bite me. Whatever you want. But do it now."
no subject
He follows after her quickly, settling between her legs. His lips drag over her throat as he reaches down to tease her clit, moving his finger slower than he knows any woman in her right mind would find satisfying.
After a moment, he shifts and removes his hand so that he can guide himself inside of her, at first just teasing her with the head before he pushes in slowly.
no subject
Her back arches as he finally pushes in, but it's too slow, far too slow, and she whimpers before wrapping her legs around him and pulling him closer.