Work For It
Title: Work For It
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: The Avengers
Characters/Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov/Steve Rogers
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 858
Spoilers: movie
Content Advisory: Threesome, bondage, a hint of D/s
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
A/N: Written for a prompt at avengerkink - Inspired by this NSFW drawing of some chair bondage, further modified so Steve is the “chair.” Because more is better. :D
Summary: When Clint scares his lovers, he has to earn his forgiveness. Athletically.
On Ao3 or below the cut
It was his punishment for scaring them.
He'd been the only one who could have made that shot, but making it from a collapsing building had been a little more risky than was strictly necessary. Steve swore he had scared him out of a year of life. Natasha had just glared at him in that way that made her look like a hooded serpent, and Clint knew he was definitely in trouble tonight.
"Never scare us like that again," Steve said against his ear the minute he'd pulled him into their bedroom. And he didn’t mean it like what most would think, Clint knew. They were Avengers; defying death came with the job description. What he meant was - “Come back safe.” Natasha meant the same, but for a woman who could be absolutely devastating with words, she preferred actions when it came to communicating between the three of them.
The rope she wrapped around his arms was substantial, but also soft. And Clint knew she meant business just by her choice of bondage; he wouldn’t be getting out of this for a good long while. Steve held him still while Natasha wove the rope around his arms, over the marks left by his arm guard, around his wrists, forcing his shoulders back and chest forward. Mostly naked already from the shower they’d all taken, Steve tugged off the towel around his waist and pulled Clint flush back against him. His arousal pressed tight between them, and the adrenaline singing between all three of them made Clint hiss a little in appreciation and writhe to give Natasha a show.
Slowly, step by step, Steve got them down to the floor, Steve supporting Clint’s upper body as he carefully, slowly, lined himself up and pushed his slick cock into Clint’s heat.
“Steve,” Clint said, his voice a little breathless. Because Steve wasn’t moving, not an inch, just holding Clint in place with implacable strength.
“’Tasha doesn’t like to be scared,” Steve whispered in his ear. “So take your medicine.”
Clint riveted his attention back to Natasha, who’d stripped to the skin as Steve had gotten Clint ready, and stood in all her pale glory in front of him. Brilliant red against cream, she leaned down against him, her breasts cupping his face as she lowered herself down onto him. Clint gritted his teeth as she practically pulled him inside, demanding he move to keep up with her.
“’Tasha…” he said warningly, knowing the flush tinting her skin means she was ready and willing to torment him for hours, taking what she needed unless he could give it to her. Arms tied, held by Steve, split open by his cock, with only a limited range to move.
The ball was in his court now. And he was up for the challenge.
Clint shifted himself, bringing up his knees and bracing his feet against Steve’s knees to give himself the leverage to cradle Natasha like how she wanted. Except like this he was completely helpless to prevent Steve from going even deeper inside him. His eyes rolled back in his head as he pushed himself up into Natasha, Steve following his every thrust so that he was never without a thick, heavy length inside him.
Oh God, they were going to kill him.
Natasha leaned into him as he gave it everything he had, calves and thighs burning, struggling for purchase against Steve’s skin, desperate to give her what she needed. He rested his forehead against her throat as she pressed her soft breasts against his chest, and flexed his hands against Steve, tugging against the ropes in a futile effort to try to touch more of her.
“Should have thought of that before you jumped off a building,” Steve said, and lightly bit at his earlobe, his breathing ragged.
Clint saved his breath to keep going against Natasha, hearing the tiny little cries, nearly inaudible, that signaled she was close. He redoubled his efforts, sweat pouring down his face, legs cramping, Steve utterly irresistible inside him, Natasha nearly driving him over the edge as she clamped down around him. When Natasha came, Clint didn’t stop, just pushed past the cramps and trembling fatigue to feel her let go again- he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, Natasha breathing in his ear and Steve fucking relentless inside him -until she let go again, tossing her head back with a ragged cry that was her white flag.
Steve shifted them both like that, finally moving, giving Clint the friction he craved even as Natasha pressed his face against the softness of her breasts, the coolness of her skin blissful relief. Clint shuddered through his orgasm, equal parts pleasure and exhaustion bringing him high and setting him free. Natasha trailed her fingers down his cheek as his breathing slowed down, and if one of the drops of salty moisture on his face had been a tear from the shear intensity, well, she wouldn’t say anything.
Steve slowly unwound the rope that had bound him, pressing a kiss to the faint marks on his skin even as Natasha wrapped herself around him. And Clint knew he’d been forgiven.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: The Avengers
Characters/Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov/Steve Rogers
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 858
Spoilers: movie
Content Advisory: Threesome, bondage, a hint of D/s
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
A/N: Written for a prompt at avengerkink - Inspired by this NSFW drawing of some chair bondage, further modified so Steve is the “chair.” Because more is better. :D
Summary: When Clint scares his lovers, he has to earn his forgiveness. Athletically.
On Ao3 or below the cut
It was his punishment for scaring them.
He'd been the only one who could have made that shot, but making it from a collapsing building had been a little more risky than was strictly necessary. Steve swore he had scared him out of a year of life. Natasha had just glared at him in that way that made her look like a hooded serpent, and Clint knew he was definitely in trouble tonight.
"Never scare us like that again," Steve said against his ear the minute he'd pulled him into their bedroom. And he didn’t mean it like what most would think, Clint knew. They were Avengers; defying death came with the job description. What he meant was - “Come back safe.” Natasha meant the same, but for a woman who could be absolutely devastating with words, she preferred actions when it came to communicating between the three of them.
The rope she wrapped around his arms was substantial, but also soft. And Clint knew she meant business just by her choice of bondage; he wouldn’t be getting out of this for a good long while. Steve held him still while Natasha wove the rope around his arms, over the marks left by his arm guard, around his wrists, forcing his shoulders back and chest forward. Mostly naked already from the shower they’d all taken, Steve tugged off the towel around his waist and pulled Clint flush back against him. His arousal pressed tight between them, and the adrenaline singing between all three of them made Clint hiss a little in appreciation and writhe to give Natasha a show.
Slowly, step by step, Steve got them down to the floor, Steve supporting Clint’s upper body as he carefully, slowly, lined himself up and pushed his slick cock into Clint’s heat.
“Steve,” Clint said, his voice a little breathless. Because Steve wasn’t moving, not an inch, just holding Clint in place with implacable strength.
“’Tasha doesn’t like to be scared,” Steve whispered in his ear. “So take your medicine.”
Clint riveted his attention back to Natasha, who’d stripped to the skin as Steve had gotten Clint ready, and stood in all her pale glory in front of him. Brilliant red against cream, she leaned down against him, her breasts cupping his face as she lowered herself down onto him. Clint gritted his teeth as she practically pulled him inside, demanding he move to keep up with her.
“’Tasha…” he said warningly, knowing the flush tinting her skin means she was ready and willing to torment him for hours, taking what she needed unless he could give it to her. Arms tied, held by Steve, split open by his cock, with only a limited range to move.
The ball was in his court now. And he was up for the challenge.
Clint shifted himself, bringing up his knees and bracing his feet against Steve’s knees to give himself the leverage to cradle Natasha like how she wanted. Except like this he was completely helpless to prevent Steve from going even deeper inside him. His eyes rolled back in his head as he pushed himself up into Natasha, Steve following his every thrust so that he was never without a thick, heavy length inside him.
Oh God, they were going to kill him.
Natasha leaned into him as he gave it everything he had, calves and thighs burning, struggling for purchase against Steve’s skin, desperate to give her what she needed. He rested his forehead against her throat as she pressed her soft breasts against his chest, and flexed his hands against Steve, tugging against the ropes in a futile effort to try to touch more of her.
“Should have thought of that before you jumped off a building,” Steve said, and lightly bit at his earlobe, his breathing ragged.
Clint saved his breath to keep going against Natasha, hearing the tiny little cries, nearly inaudible, that signaled she was close. He redoubled his efforts, sweat pouring down his face, legs cramping, Steve utterly irresistible inside him, Natasha nearly driving him over the edge as she clamped down around him. When Natasha came, Clint didn’t stop, just pushed past the cramps and trembling fatigue to feel her let go again- he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, Natasha breathing in his ear and Steve fucking relentless inside him -until she let go again, tossing her head back with a ragged cry that was her white flag.
Steve shifted them both like that, finally moving, giving Clint the friction he craved even as Natasha pressed his face against the softness of her breasts, the coolness of her skin blissful relief. Clint shuddered through his orgasm, equal parts pleasure and exhaustion bringing him high and setting him free. Natasha trailed her fingers down his cheek as his breathing slowed down, and if one of the drops of salty moisture on his face had been a tear from the shear intensity, well, she wouldn’t say anything.
Steve slowly unwound the rope that had bound him, pressing a kiss to the faint marks on his skin even as Natasha wrapped herself around him. And Clint knew he’d been forgiven.