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salmon_pinkTitle: Forgiveness Fucked Through
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Natasha/Steve
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1345
Notes: BDSM. Pegging. Sounding. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
avengers_tables, prompt "reminder", and a prompt at avengerkink.
Summary: Sometimes the responsibility of leadership is too much. Sometimes Steve's just too damn hard on himself. Sometimes he needs this.
“God, fuck,” Steve’s gasping, and Natasha always likes him best like this, when he’s not quite non-verbal but well on the way to it. When all he has left is cursing and her name, voice rough and cracking down the middle.
She grabs a nice handful of dirty blond hair, yanks it hard enough to make him jerk his head back, spine arching. Making this really guttural noise for the way it forces him to impale himself deeper on the thick dildo she’s fucking into his ass, hips snapping hard enough that the leather and metal of her harness is leaving imprints against his skin.
Natasha likes marking him up, even if it never lasts, not with that serum flowing through Steve’s veins. She scratches three sharp, mean lines down his spine, cruel for the sake of it, and he keens and shakes beneath her, so pretty. Sweat shining on his skin, and she rubs the dampness of it into each scratch, another little irritation, another sensation to add to the list.
She wants him overwhelmed, and she’s damn good at getting him there.
Smack of her hand against his thigh, just below his ass, and the next thrust is a little rougher as he clenches up around the silicone. Panting, head shaking, but it’s not a no, it’s never a no. He’s never given her an amber light, let alone a red, never used his safeword, because Natasha’s that fucking good at this, she knows how to give him just what he needs, and Steve’s just that good at taking it.
He’s getting looser again, so she puts a wicked little twist in her hips to make him wail. Biting down on the pillow and, oh no, that’s not allowed, she wants all his noises. Getting a hand around his throat and squeezing in warning, and Steve tilts his head back, Adam’s apple pushing into her palm.
He’s so lovely like this.
“You want it?” she asks, soft little hiss, keeping the heat out of her voice because she needs to be cold for this. “You want to come all over yourself, make a mess of yourself for me?”
There’s a ripping sound as Steve’s fingers claw holes in the sheets.
“Yeah, you do,” Natasha breathes, and he’s so damn hot when she reaches under him, cradles the tight pull of his balls where they’re drawn up taut. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”
Steve groans and rocks, knees digging into the mattress as he shifts his weight. But this is the thickest dildo Natasha owns, and he can’t fuck himself back on it, not like he can with the smaller ones. The stretch of it, it’s too much, but that’s better. This way she’s the one setting the pace, fucking him as brutal as she likes, and there’s not a damn thing Steve can do about it.
“Please,” he manages, and he’s getting there, but she’s not done yet.
Fingertips sliding up the length of his cock, feeling the way he’s radiating heat, slick and hard against his stomach. Letting her thumb just barely graze the rounded metal sticking out of the slit, thicker ball at the end of the thin rod, and Steve howls, loud enough to give her goosebumps, his arms shaking as he struggles to hold himself up.
“You know what I want to hear,” Natasha reminds him, firm and unrelenting as she rubs at the metal ball, his cock twitching as he whines and trembles.
He’s shaking his head again, but she’ll get him there. She always gets him there.
“Say it,” she growls, and it’s fucking nasty to flick at the metal like that, she knows it is. Knows it’ll vibrate all the way down the rod where it’s pushed snug inside his cock, but she has to make it hurt, has to make the pain a part of the pleasure if she’s going to get Steve to the place he needs to be.
Still has to swallow down her grunt for the way he sobs, her cunt pulsing for the helplessness of it. Needing to be detached, aloof, can’t let him hear how badly she’s getting worked up, because right now this isn’t about her.
It’s about Steve, stupidly beautiful, stupidly stubborn, and she gets her fingernail under the metal ball, slides it just the tiniest fraction higher, so a millimetre of the rod slips free of his cock.
“I didn’t -” he’s stammering, voice thick and wet, the muscles in his shoulders bunching and shifting as he shudders. “It wasn’t -”
Natasha works the rod, gentle compared to the way her hips slam home over and over. Pounding his ass hard with the dildo, fucking his cock slow and shallow with the rod, and she can tell by the wheeze of his breathing, the rapid rise and fall of his chest that Steve’s crying in earnest now.
Good, about time.
“Like you mean it, Rogers,” she barks, muscles in her back burning with how fast and deep she’s taking him, sweat stinging her eyes, fingers pulling at his hair again.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Steve cries out, earnest and fucking wrecked, and Natasha’s sliding the rod free as soon as the words leave his lips. Has to go slower than he wants it, has to go steady, and she deserves a damn medal for being able to ream his ass the entire time.
The moment the end of the rod leaves him, the moment his cock’s empty, Steve’s screaming, and Natasha fucks him through it all. Holding on to his hips as he thrashes beneath her, coming against the sheets and his skin, noises cutting off into something that sounds wild and injured and vulnerable. Clenching down on the dildo, which just makes her slam forward all the harder, forcing everything he has out of him until his arms finally give out, until he’s boneless and whimpering beneath her.
She slows down gradually, until her hips are giving shallow little thrusts, and with Steve’s head twisted to the side like it is she can see the way his damp eyelashes flutter with every movement. Stroking circles into his back as she lets the dildo finally slide free of his ass, and he’s pink and swollen and gaping, in a way that makes her want to fuck him all over again.
But right now he needs her hands on him, so she touches him everywhere she can reach. Pushing hair from his forehead, running a thumb over the tear-tracks on his cheeks, pressing her knuckles into the back of his neck until his shoulders loosen a bit. Soothing up his back and down his arms, and he’s so much bigger than her but he makes the sweetest little spoon when she drops the harness and dildo over the side of the bed and wraps herself around his broad back.
“Gonna say it again for me?” she murmurs. Voice not as hard, but not gentle either, because Steve’s not all that good with people being careful with him, and gentle has never come easy to Natasha anyway.
He sighs, but there’s a tired smile in his voice when he mutters, “Wasn’t my fault.” Croaky and raw, but sincere, and that’s all she needs.
“Damn right it wasn’t,” Natasha tells him, because it’s the truth. Ops go wrong, for a hundred reasons, and this time it was all to do with crappy Intel and maybe a mole, which is just what they need when dealing with HYDRA. Two agents in the hospital, and Steve as ready as ever to take the responsibility of that on his shoulders, never mind it would have been far worse if he hadn’t been there.
Guess it's a good thing he has Natasha to remind him that he can't take the blame for everything.
He lets out this thin little whine when she wraps her hand loosely around his cock, barely softened and still an angry-looking red.
“Damn right it wasn’t,” she says again, and bites his shoulder, lips pulled into a smirk.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Natasha/Steve
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1345
Notes: BDSM. Pegging. Sounding. For
avengers_tables, prompt "reminder", and a prompt at avengerkink.Summary: Sometimes the responsibility of leadership is too much. Sometimes Steve's just too damn hard on himself. Sometimes he needs this.
“God, fuck,” Steve’s gasping, and Natasha always likes him best like this, when he’s not quite non-verbal but well on the way to it. When all he has left is cursing and her name, voice rough and cracking down the middle.
She grabs a nice handful of dirty blond hair, yanks it hard enough to make him jerk his head back, spine arching. Making this really guttural noise for the way it forces him to impale himself deeper on the thick dildo she’s fucking into his ass, hips snapping hard enough that the leather and metal of her harness is leaving imprints against his skin.
Natasha likes marking him up, even if it never lasts, not with that serum flowing through Steve’s veins. She scratches three sharp, mean lines down his spine, cruel for the sake of it, and he keens and shakes beneath her, so pretty. Sweat shining on his skin, and she rubs the dampness of it into each scratch, another little irritation, another sensation to add to the list.
She wants him overwhelmed, and she’s damn good at getting him there.
Smack of her hand against his thigh, just below his ass, and the next thrust is a little rougher as he clenches up around the silicone. Panting, head shaking, but it’s not a no, it’s never a no. He’s never given her an amber light, let alone a red, never used his safeword, because Natasha’s that fucking good at this, she knows how to give him just what he needs, and Steve’s just that good at taking it.
He’s getting looser again, so she puts a wicked little twist in her hips to make him wail. Biting down on the pillow and, oh no, that’s not allowed, she wants all his noises. Getting a hand around his throat and squeezing in warning, and Steve tilts his head back, Adam’s apple pushing into her palm.
He’s so lovely like this.
“You want it?” she asks, soft little hiss, keeping the heat out of her voice because she needs to be cold for this. “You want to come all over yourself, make a mess of yourself for me?”
There’s a ripping sound as Steve’s fingers claw holes in the sheets.
“Yeah, you do,” Natasha breathes, and he’s so damn hot when she reaches under him, cradles the tight pull of his balls where they’re drawn up taut. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”
Steve groans and rocks, knees digging into the mattress as he shifts his weight. But this is the thickest dildo Natasha owns, and he can’t fuck himself back on it, not like he can with the smaller ones. The stretch of it, it’s too much, but that’s better. This way she’s the one setting the pace, fucking him as brutal as she likes, and there’s not a damn thing Steve can do about it.
“Please,” he manages, and he’s getting there, but she’s not done yet.
Fingertips sliding up the length of his cock, feeling the way he’s radiating heat, slick and hard against his stomach. Letting her thumb just barely graze the rounded metal sticking out of the slit, thicker ball at the end of the thin rod, and Steve howls, loud enough to give her goosebumps, his arms shaking as he struggles to hold himself up.
“You know what I want to hear,” Natasha reminds him, firm and unrelenting as she rubs at the metal ball, his cock twitching as he whines and trembles.
He’s shaking his head again, but she’ll get him there. She always gets him there.
“Say it,” she growls, and it’s fucking nasty to flick at the metal like that, she knows it is. Knows it’ll vibrate all the way down the rod where it’s pushed snug inside his cock, but she has to make it hurt, has to make the pain a part of the pleasure if she’s going to get Steve to the place he needs to be.
Still has to swallow down her grunt for the way he sobs, her cunt pulsing for the helplessness of it. Needing to be detached, aloof, can’t let him hear how badly she’s getting worked up, because right now this isn’t about her.
It’s about Steve, stupidly beautiful, stupidly stubborn, and she gets her fingernail under the metal ball, slides it just the tiniest fraction higher, so a millimetre of the rod slips free of his cock.
“I didn’t -” he’s stammering, voice thick and wet, the muscles in his shoulders bunching and shifting as he shudders. “It wasn’t -”
Natasha works the rod, gentle compared to the way her hips slam home over and over. Pounding his ass hard with the dildo, fucking his cock slow and shallow with the rod, and she can tell by the wheeze of his breathing, the rapid rise and fall of his chest that Steve’s crying in earnest now.
Good, about time.
“Like you mean it, Rogers,” she barks, muscles in her back burning with how fast and deep she’s taking him, sweat stinging her eyes, fingers pulling at his hair again.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Steve cries out, earnest and fucking wrecked, and Natasha’s sliding the rod free as soon as the words leave his lips. Has to go slower than he wants it, has to go steady, and she deserves a damn medal for being able to ream his ass the entire time.
The moment the end of the rod leaves him, the moment his cock’s empty, Steve’s screaming, and Natasha fucks him through it all. Holding on to his hips as he thrashes beneath her, coming against the sheets and his skin, noises cutting off into something that sounds wild and injured and vulnerable. Clenching down on the dildo, which just makes her slam forward all the harder, forcing everything he has out of him until his arms finally give out, until he’s boneless and whimpering beneath her.
She slows down gradually, until her hips are giving shallow little thrusts, and with Steve’s head twisted to the side like it is she can see the way his damp eyelashes flutter with every movement. Stroking circles into his back as she lets the dildo finally slide free of his ass, and he’s pink and swollen and gaping, in a way that makes her want to fuck him all over again.
But right now he needs her hands on him, so she touches him everywhere she can reach. Pushing hair from his forehead, running a thumb over the tear-tracks on his cheeks, pressing her knuckles into the back of his neck until his shoulders loosen a bit. Soothing up his back and down his arms, and he’s so much bigger than her but he makes the sweetest little spoon when she drops the harness and dildo over the side of the bed and wraps herself around his broad back.
“Gonna say it again for me?” she murmurs. Voice not as hard, but not gentle either, because Steve’s not all that good with people being careful with him, and gentle has never come easy to Natasha anyway.
He sighs, but there’s a tired smile in his voice when he mutters, “Wasn’t my fault.” Croaky and raw, but sincere, and that’s all she needs.
“Damn right it wasn’t,” Natasha tells him, because it’s the truth. Ops go wrong, for a hundred reasons, and this time it was all to do with crappy Intel and maybe a mole, which is just what they need when dealing with HYDRA. Two agents in the hospital, and Steve as ready as ever to take the responsibility of that on his shoulders, never mind it would have been far worse if he hadn’t been there.
Guess it's a good thing he has Natasha to remind him that he can't take the blame for everything.
He lets out this thin little whine when she wraps her hand loosely around his cock, barely softened and still an angry-looking red.
“Damn right it wasn’t,” she says again, and bites his shoulder, lips pulled into a smirk.
