Marvel Cinematic Universe: Natasha Romanoff/Steve Rogers
Title: Play Hard
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Steve/Natasha
Theme: #11 Hunger
Rating: NC-17
Words: 495
Warnings: Sexual content
Somebody’s been lying to Natasha. Because everything she’s heard and read, it all painted this picture of Captain America as stoic and naïve and practically a eunuch. And, well, it’s all bullshit. Because Steve is sharp and passionate and has this dry sense of humour that Natasha takes a thrill in watching as it hits people like a fist to the face. Maybe he’s not all that experienced, or at least he wasn’t when he first came out of the ice, but he’s a damn fast learner with a thirst for knowledge, and Natasha’s a very willing teacher.
All that skin, all those frankly ridiculous muscles, and Natasha can be just as rough as she likes, because Steve can take it all. Leaving stripes of pink across his shoulders from her fingernails, strings of bite marks around his throat, and they’ll have healed by the morning but that’s just invitation to try again.
He can hold her up like this so easily, and that makes her kind of dizzy, makes her want to writhe and kick out, just to make him work for it. “Give it to me, big boy,” she purrs in her most exaggerated porn voice, and the way he laughs feels so damn good against her.
He’s learned the pace she likes best, and sometimes he gives it to her just perfect, but other times he smirks and holds off. Just a touch too slow, not quite deep enough, driving her crazy because he can be just as much of an asshole as she can. He likes it when she gets impatient, when she starts fucking herself down on him, when she curses and bites, his eyes sparkling for every groan she drags out of him.
He’s got one hand at her back, her shoulders pressed to the wall, and anybody else would need to hold on tight with the way she likes to move, but not Steve. He can keep one hand free, and he knows how to take advantage of that, hand squeezing her breast so hard it makes her gasp and buck, pulsing around him. He’s so thick inside of her, always a little hotter than she’s used to, rubbing just right, and Natasha gets a grip on his hair and rides every thrust of his hips.
Those talented fingers creep down, start to stroke so lightly against her clit, fucking tease, and then he’s pressing down hard with his thumb. He moans so lovely for her when she clenches up, when she throbs and thrashes through her climax, kissing messy at her neck as the pace picks up, as he gets close.
All those people who have the wrong idea about Steve, Natasha feels sorry for them. He should be sharing this, should be sharing himself with everybody he cares for. That would really be doing a service to his country. But if he’s going to choose anyone to be with like this, she’s damn glad it’s her.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Steve/Natasha
Theme: #11 Hunger
Rating: NC-17
Words: 495
Warnings: Sexual content
Somebody’s been lying to Natasha. Because everything she’s heard and read, it all painted this picture of Captain America as stoic and naïve and practically a eunuch. And, well, it’s all bullshit. Because Steve is sharp and passionate and has this dry sense of humour that Natasha takes a thrill in watching as it hits people like a fist to the face. Maybe he’s not all that experienced, or at least he wasn’t when he first came out of the ice, but he’s a damn fast learner with a thirst for knowledge, and Natasha’s a very willing teacher.
All that skin, all those frankly ridiculous muscles, and Natasha can be just as rough as she likes, because Steve can take it all. Leaving stripes of pink across his shoulders from her fingernails, strings of bite marks around his throat, and they’ll have healed by the morning but that’s just invitation to try again.
He can hold her up like this so easily, and that makes her kind of dizzy, makes her want to writhe and kick out, just to make him work for it. “Give it to me, big boy,” she purrs in her most exaggerated porn voice, and the way he laughs feels so damn good against her.
He’s learned the pace she likes best, and sometimes he gives it to her just perfect, but other times he smirks and holds off. Just a touch too slow, not quite deep enough, driving her crazy because he can be just as much of an asshole as she can. He likes it when she gets impatient, when she starts fucking herself down on him, when she curses and bites, his eyes sparkling for every groan she drags out of him.
He’s got one hand at her back, her shoulders pressed to the wall, and anybody else would need to hold on tight with the way she likes to move, but not Steve. He can keep one hand free, and he knows how to take advantage of that, hand squeezing her breast so hard it makes her gasp and buck, pulsing around him. He’s so thick inside of her, always a little hotter than she’s used to, rubbing just right, and Natasha gets a grip on his hair and rides every thrust of his hips.
Those talented fingers creep down, start to stroke so lightly against her clit, fucking tease, and then he’s pressing down hard with his thumb. He moans so lovely for her when she clenches up, when she throbs and thrashes through her climax, kissing messy at her neck as the pace picks up, as he gets close.
All those people who have the wrong idea about Steve, Natasha feels sorry for them. He should be sharing this, should be sharing himself with everybody he cares for. That would really be doing a service to his country. But if he’s going to choose anyone to be with like this, she’s damn glad it’s her.