Sample scene flavor one for marvel_universe

[cold_shoulder]

Since they had given him the assignment to train operatives, the Winter Soldier had seen quite a few go through the Red Room - the training for which happened far from only in any particular room. Most of them were fast and precise and eager to do things right. Some of them were smart and could be taught to be quick-thinking.

But nobody had been using their mind to the objective at hand until she had appeared, gun in one hand and grenade in the other. Brave, determined, beautiful. Not allowing herself to be distracted from the tasks she had, and at the same time with a hint of a sense of humor which meshed inexplicably well with him, somewhere below the level of his usual thought processes.

He's been watching, yes.

Natalia Romanova.

He'd been watching others try to emulate her, too, and had been greatly amused at girls imitating her motions without fully realizing the ideas behind them. And then feel disappointed at failing.

But mostly, he'd been watching her. He wasn't allowed access to much information about her; that was classified and not a part of his assignment. So he'd been piecing things together. Little things betrayed by her motions, but her reactions to knowledge betrayed by others.

And he'd been watching the beauty of her. The dancer training was clear in everything from her flexibility to the graceful efficiency of her motions. It stirred something in him. Something warm and unknown and strange, separate from the definite physical desire. The latter he could define and control. The former... it confused him. And drew him closer to her, until the evening when, all exercises complete, he knocked on her window.

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[natalia_romanova]

"I'm not just another person. I can be perfect, if I am not, at everything, I will lose." She would lose her life, her position and him. She had no intention of merely getting by in the program, she would be it's finest student. Perfection was freedom, she saw that now, by not following each example given, by achieving each goal but with her own style and means she had advanced. Perfection was not defined by what the program knew because the program had never seen her in action before. Natalia would redefine perfection for The Red Room, not out of ego, but because it was what she had to do.

"I will do both, I can Miliy moi."

It was the first time she used such address with him, and in her own tongue rather than the English he had her use so often. It was specific, the English was artifice, facade, this came from her heart and she wanted him to know and understand that. Natalia was in love with him, there was not question to her now. All that remained was for them to not suffer for it.

"Watch me soar, as graceful as the ballerina on the stage, I will be in battle. It will be a dance, a thing of beauty and skill." Prophetic declaration as her skills would so soon be tested.

She glanced out the window, the moon was higher than it should be, night was waning too quickly. "I should rest, for tomorrow." Though it was clear by her tone that she would far rather spend her time with him than sleeping. "We have much work ahead of us, as you said."

[cold_shoulder]

"Bog moi, Natalia," he said with a tired, but real, gentle smile - not quite berating her, more along the lines of soft chiding, "do not be a child, listen. You can be superb - it is perfection that is... It is static, unchangeable, until life moves on. Be adaptable, be real. That is better than perfect. That will keep you alive and capable of doing better yet, the time after that. Please, believe me."

And his eyes did warm up at the address, at the image she was describing.

"That, I know you will. You will dance your way into men's dreams and nightmares both, embraced by the night even in the light of day. Faultless. Almost invisible, definitely uncatchable, but unforgettable. And those who do see you will know the fire that you are, too, wrapped in the shadows. Not as I know your fire. But you'll still blaze through their lives and incinerate what you aim to destroy."

He swallowed. Where had all these words come from? He didn't know. But he could see it. Could see her, somehow, and all that it would cost her - and all the ways she just wasn't going to turn away from those costs.

"You are almost that good, already. And you will keep on getting better. And all the rewards you receive, you will have earned.

"My Natalia."

[natalia_romanova]

He didn't rebuke her, not truly, but still she shrank a bit. He still called her a child, he still saw her as such. She had so much to prove to him, he didn't want perfection but..wasn't that the goal for them all? What could imperfection serve that perfection could not? "Better than perfect." She thought on it, thought hard.

Perfection, honing her skills until she could easily do them in her sleep. She could be the most formidable, each movement, action, step sure always the same, every time...Always the same! That was what he meant! If she preformed the same every time eventually that would be a determent, she could be anticipated. By being perfect she would allow someone to devise counter strategy and she would not know how to deal with it. So, she must be flexible, the light of the idea dawned in her eyes. That mind that he prized her for, above the abilities others saw, now proved him right.

"Like dance, I must remain fluid enough to compensate and ready to adapt. I understand." And she did, it was so very clear to her now, as was the reason so many others had failed. They had studied for perfection, which only made them a more perfect target. She would need to constantly reinvent herself to stay a step ahead. She would have to learn all she could, not just about fighting. Combat was a necessity, but there could be ways around it, there would be other skills she would need. She would know them, all.

He flattered her again and she demurred with a soft smile, but looked up sharply at his last address to her. It was so familiar, so warm, so sincere that she moved before she realized it. Her lips found his and everything she wanted to say poured into her kiss. A sweet desperation flavored with a promise, this was not a crush. She felt for him, and in this moment she could show it. She didn't know when the chance would come again, so she took it for all it was worth.

[cold_shoulder]

He was watching her, carefully, intently as she worked it out. And then the realization dawned on her face, in her voice, in her words. Understanding. And his eyes lit up, a little. Smiled a little. "Молодец." Softly, truly. Praise, because, yes, she was thinking. She was taking in information and drawing conclusions from it, true ones. The ones that would keep her alive, out there.

And, this time, when she kissed him, he drew her closer, the metal hand behind her back to keep her near, the other one rising up to stroke her cheek, the edge of her ear, then cup the back of her head as he kissed back.

For a change, just now, the worry that this would destroy - her, he thought, and that was worse than the idea that it would destroy himself - was put to rest. It made him relax, a little. Made him bask in her warmth, in her affection, and it felt - he felt - all right. The sensation... it rippled through him, a release from the tension that had been building up in him for a while, now, keeping him awake, on edge.

It couldn't be good, a part of him knew, it couldn't end well. But oh, it felt so... so much better than anything he could remember.

So he leaned a little back, resting his shoulders against the headboard, and drew her in with him.

[natalia_romanova]

She went, oh so willingly. In a typical teenage rush of hormones she had no idea what was going to happen but it obliterated everything else in that moment. It was a mistake that in any other setting might have been lethal, but with him she was safe to lose herself. For the first time in her memory she did lose herself, the feel of him, sense of him was all she knew and she drank it in. He was with her, not the Winter Soldier but James, her James.

She whispered things between kisses, terms of endearment, promises, words that had no meaning only feelings that poured from her. She was in love, she knew it to be true, she had been careful not to expose the secret to anyone, but she knew it as surely as she knew the feel, weight and balance of her training pistol. This was illicit and forbidden but that hardly stopped her, it was perhaps unlocking the doors of making her unstoppable in other ways as well.

She stretched with his recline and her body laid across his, a small and feverishly warm blanket of arms and legs enfolding him. Her heated lips taking his and offering themselves back while hands ran over his shoulders and chest in slow, easy exploration. She simply could not get enough of him. Reality would intrude sooner or later, but having had a taste of this she was brazen now to take all she could get of this intimacy.

[cold_shoulder]

His mind attempted to get hazy, a swirl of sensations overwhelming him, but he fought against it, trying to register every move, each word, all the sensory input. There was little that he recalled that felt pleasant, let alone truly good or beautiful, and this was too much of all of these to let any part of it go to waste.

And then there was her. She was gorgeous, and he was not quite sure how to express the appreciation, the attraction, in ways that were neither gross nor - breaking. But she was. Fire of her hair, flame in her eyes, body slender and supple, yet curvy, in perfect shape... He ran his fingers down her side, then up, brushing the side of a breast, then settled with the tips resting against the pulse at her throat, and just... kissed her. Yes, his trousers were getting tight, but with her weight against him and the way they moved, with the scent and taste of her on him, it was good. So good.

[natalia_romanova]

Want. It is a powerful thing. To the mind of a teenager, albeit a remarkably mature one, it was an all consuming thing. Want was a hunger that could not be sated by words and even the actions that lead to it only seemed to add fuel to the flame.
She wanted him.

She wanted him.

There might have been many others who would willingly and with enthusiasm shared a bed with her had she approached them, but she had one one object of her desire, her affection. Where before they had been cautious and careful, drawing strict boundaries between them; now they seemed to want to break every self imposed rule they'd created.

Every time his hand grazed her skin she made a sound, a tiny gasp of surprise or a mewl of pleasure or a low, throaty moan of need. The only frustrating part was not knowing what it was she needed, well in broad terms she knew, she understood what made her ache and feel empty. But specifically what did she want? Release? Pleasure? A lover? What would happen when and if they had their fill of each others bodies; assuming she ever could get her fill.

Her legs parted and slid to rest on the bedspread, knees drew up to allow her to straddle his hips. Ohhh that reaction of his, it made her bite her lower lip and pull back to look at him. If her green eyes had been aflame before they were an inferno now. She smoldered for him, and that heat was not lacking in their near connection below. Her hips rocked on him, even with cloth between them there was friction and that was delicious.

Natalia's lips moved from his and drew down along his jaw line. Rough stubble scraped against soft skin, each inch of the path traced in fiery marks of mouth, teeth and tongue. She moved further still, working her way along his throat and glorying in the way it made his Adam's apple jump when she nipped and licked her way back. Her teeth worried over the soft flesh of his ear lobe, tugging gently before sucking softly at it. She spoke the words, words women and men have said in a thousand languages since the dawn of time. She knew what she wanted, and she made it clear.

[cold_shoulder]

Oh. Ohhh.

He gave a low moan at the friction, the pressure, the warmth of her rubbing against him, a moan that was swallowed by the kiss, then he. Oh...

This felt so good it couldn't be right, and, yet, he knew it was. It only took him a moment of hesitation before he tilted his head back, exposing his throat in a gesture that he was keenly aware was an ultimate vulnerability... and turned him on even more.

Because this was her. Because his lips were already whispering her name almost noiselessly, before she whispered back. Those words. Those words that he both didn't understand and understood perfectly. Those words that nobody who did what he did should ever deserve, and yet - given freely. To him. By her. Eyes squeezed shut, he answered. All the demons help him, he answered in kind.

He shuddered, and held her closer. The flesh-and-blood fingers stroked the delicate nape of her neck (so little more than a child's, and yet - so much more). His other hand, oh so lightly, as much so as he could get feedback from the metal, moved down along her back - and then slid down between her legs, over the fabric of her underwear, sliding back and forth. She could get some of the pleasure of rubbing, too.

A deep breath. "Natalia... It - we are not prepared now to - come fully together, tonight. The next mission, I will get protection. But it is a bad idea without it. Do you... understand?" Words were difficult. But he was certain about this. The last thing they wanted, especially right now? Was her to get pregnant. (No child should be brought into this, and she was barely more than one, herself...)

[natalia_romanova]

She whimpered with his touch, the fingers at her neck so strong and rough and encouraging of her own exploration of him; and the other hand, cold metal warmed by contact with her now giving her reason to writhe all the more. He touched her and suddenly the pleasure thundered through her, cotton between her sensitivity and his fingers. More, she wanted more, she wanted all of him.

Her hips rocked now but with more purpose; her hands slid down his body to offer the same touch he did for her. It was new and it was fumbling but there was no hiding the quick pace of her breath or the heavy glaze of excitement in her eyes. She almost didn’t hear his words of caution, but eventually they made it through the swirling haze of her arousal. He wanted her, she could tell that much, but he was right. Evidence of their affair would be cause for punishment, if she were to actually fall pregnant it could mean death, perhaps for them both.

She groaned in frustration, wanting and being unable to have, it was such a tease. But... there were other ways were there not? “We cannot fully be together, you are right. But please, let me see you? Touch you. James, please.” The tone was almost a plea, so very nearly begging him. Natalia desperately wanted to share something, if not the act itself. She could be satisfied with that she thought.

She fell forward again, her lips and teeth at his throat as her hands worked to free him of his shirt. Buttons shed with careful efficiency, not one ripped or torn as he would need to be presentable at a moment’s notice. She bared his chest and ran hands along it, slender fingers tracing the lines of muscle and bone, carefully playing over scars and bruises with loving softness. And then her hands moved lower.

She moaned into his throat, lips vibrating against the skin as her hands moved down to feel him. The solid heat of his reaction to her; god it was exciting. Her hands fumbled on the belt, the button, the zip, all too loud and too slow for her taste. She had to feel him without the barriers, to know his passion for her was something she could stoke and more importantly something she could bring to climax.

Warm dainty hands dipped under his garments and found him. Thick and hard and smooth like the silk shawl she’d been given for being a good recruit. She stopped kissing his neck and now just panted against it; marveling at the maleness of him. “My god James, you’re perfect.”