Switch
Title: Switch
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: The Avengers
Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,111
Spoilers: movie
Content Advisory: D/s universe, switching
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
A/N: Written for a prompt at avengerkink - (paraphrased) In a D/s universe, Steve has always been taught to be a dom, Natasha to be a sub, but both are naturally the opposite and never believed they could indulge in their real natures. The first time they have sex, they realize they’d both rather be in the other’s role. So they do, and suddenly everything is so much more fulfilling!
Summary: Steve has always been taught to be a dominant, Natasha always taught to submit. But both want something different.
On Ao3 or below the cut
It started out with just a little slip. Natasha had threaded her hand in Steve's hair, just a soft and gentle stroking of those blonde strands, when Steve had changed his angle slightly. The next thrust hit in all the right places, sending a gorgeous jolt of pleasure through her, and Natasha fisted her hand when Steve tried to shift her again.
His head came up and he caught her eyes, his own dilated and dark as she tugged at his hair. Steve bit his lip and thrust again, causing another jolt to rock her. Natasha caught her breath as Steve watched her closely for more cues, more focused and relaxed than he had been a few moments earlier. All the tension he'd been carrying in those heavily-muscled shoulders, all the carefully-repressed worry in his expression, like he'd been assessing her like a tactical situation, was draining away.
They'd been on this assignment for days, and dancing around each other for much longer, but since the mark had expected this of them, well, it was hard to disappoint him in generating the necessary gossip when they'd been ready for this for months.
Natasha kept up her firm grip, but Steve suddenly froze and shook his head slightly. His eyes slid away from hers as he firmed his hands on her body, sliding one large hand up to cup gently over her wrists to hold her down. Gentle, yes, and he did watch her for a "no" signal, but the tension was creeping back in his body. The move was textbook dominant-. Natasha stopped that thought and re-examined it. Textbook dominant. Precisely textbook. Precisely old-school dominant. Just as precise as her yielding to him, letting her arms go slack and baring her neck. There was tension in her too, and he had to feel it. How many times had she done this? How often had she been soft and compliant, yielding for any mark who wanted her that way? Textbook. The Red Room had shown her the way. Their way.
She wasn't theirs anymore. It had been close to six years; she wasn't theirs. And neither was Steve. How long had he been forced to protect himself? How long had he danced around on stage, the ultimate embodiment of American dominance? Long enough to believe it, even if...
Natasha pushed against Steve's hold, quick, and he couldn't stop her from gripping his hair again, tugging his head back. His eyes darkened again and he gasped; not a fluke, then. Natasha's heart sped up.
"You want this?" she asked. Steve stared, paralyzed with indecision, mouth open and body tense. She felt him throb within her, his pulse thrumming through her body, and took a reckless chance. "You want this." A statement, not a question, her voice uncompromising.
Steve’s breathing stuttered as he blushed and paled and blushed again. Connected as intimately as they were, she could feel the truth in her, Steve hardening and even swelling a little more in excitement.
“Natasha, we shouldn’t,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I’m… I’m-.”
She stopped him with a kiss, pushing firmly against him. He yielded to her hesitantly, his strength making it impossible for her to manhandle him. When they’d gone from lying down to sitting up, for a second almost equal, Natasha moved one hand to cup the side of Steve’s face, stroking gently. It was unnerving for her too, looking straight at someone like that, not casting her eyes down and looking up through her eyelashes. She fluttered around him, fear another stimulus, and he moaned softly.
“Steve,” she whispered right in his ear. “Don’t you think that maybe we can be more than what everyone wanted us to be?”
And that hit right in the heart of the matter, touching on everything that lay at the center of them.
“But people can’t be… both… can they?”
“We,” she breathed, “are not regular people.” Natasha leaned closer and delicately bared her teeth. Daringly, she bit lightly at his ear and both of them bucked together at the sensation. “Don’t believe everything you hear about the world. Even regular people aren’t all that regular.”
“But…” Steve held his breath for a moment, the words tumbling out of him the next instant. “I’m supposed to be the leader. I’m not supposed to be…”
“I was supposed to be whatever they wanted me to be.” Natasha slid her hand down Steve’s neck and delicately flicked the sensitive, raised nub of his nipples. He gasped again and leaned into her. “Do you want to try? Just… try?”
“Yes.” The word spilled out before Natasha had even finished speaking, and Steve blushed crimson.
“Good,” Natasha said. Her stomach fluttered a little, but she didn’t let it show. “Come on.”
Steve looked surprised as Natasha pulled him over her as they sank back into the mattress, but his confusion cleared in the next instant when Natasha wrapped herself around him, hand buried in his hair, looking up at him challengingly.
“Like this,” she said, twitching her hips up. Steve followed her, his shoulders easing again as she directed him, held him, showed him. Rocking together was suddenly inexpressibly better, even though to outside eyes they had barely changed positions. Natasha lifted herself up to kiss Steve, trailing her mouth down to his neck as he kept thrusting into her at her urging, his hips growing uncoordinated as she worked her mouth and hands in concert on him. He hesitated again as his breathing grew frantic, and Natasha bit down again on his neck, making him shout something through clenched teeth.
“Let go,” she demanded. “I got you.”
Steve made a sound that was almost a sob and buried his head in her shoulder as he frantically answered the demands her body was asking from him. Natasha felt him come, the rush of heat inside her enough to set her off as she held Steve close, cradling him through the aftermath.
They breathed together for long minutes, Natasha slowly stroking down Steve’s neck and back, Steve shivering slightly under her praise.
“You were good,” she murmured over and over again. “You did well.”
Slowly, Steve pulled his head up and Natasha carefully shifted them so she loomed over him, covering his big frame with her small body. The tension had drained from both of them as she slid one hand up his arm and pressed it to the mattress. That he could get out from under her in less than a second, neither of the doubted. And that didn’t matter.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Natasha pressed a finger to his lips, and smiled as she nodded in silent agreement.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: The Avengers
Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,111
Spoilers: movie
Content Advisory: D/s universe, switching
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
A/N: Written for a prompt at avengerkink - (paraphrased) In a D/s universe, Steve has always been taught to be a dom, Natasha to be a sub, but both are naturally the opposite and never believed they could indulge in their real natures. The first time they have sex, they realize they’d both rather be in the other’s role. So they do, and suddenly everything is so much more fulfilling!
Summary: Steve has always been taught to be a dominant, Natasha always taught to submit. But both want something different.
On Ao3 or below the cut
It started out with just a little slip. Natasha had threaded her hand in Steve's hair, just a soft and gentle stroking of those blonde strands, when Steve had changed his angle slightly. The next thrust hit in all the right places, sending a gorgeous jolt of pleasure through her, and Natasha fisted her hand when Steve tried to shift her again.
His head came up and he caught her eyes, his own dilated and dark as she tugged at his hair. Steve bit his lip and thrust again, causing another jolt to rock her. Natasha caught her breath as Steve watched her closely for more cues, more focused and relaxed than he had been a few moments earlier. All the tension he'd been carrying in those heavily-muscled shoulders, all the carefully-repressed worry in his expression, like he'd been assessing her like a tactical situation, was draining away.
They'd been on this assignment for days, and dancing around each other for much longer, but since the mark had expected this of them, well, it was hard to disappoint him in generating the necessary gossip when they'd been ready for this for months.
Natasha kept up her firm grip, but Steve suddenly froze and shook his head slightly. His eyes slid away from hers as he firmed his hands on her body, sliding one large hand up to cup gently over her wrists to hold her down. Gentle, yes, and he did watch her for a "no" signal, but the tension was creeping back in his body. The move was textbook dominant-. Natasha stopped that thought and re-examined it. Textbook dominant. Precisely textbook. Precisely old-school dominant. Just as precise as her yielding to him, letting her arms go slack and baring her neck. There was tension in her too, and he had to feel it. How many times had she done this? How often had she been soft and compliant, yielding for any mark who wanted her that way? Textbook. The Red Room had shown her the way. Their way.
She wasn't theirs anymore. It had been close to six years; she wasn't theirs. And neither was Steve. How long had he been forced to protect himself? How long had he danced around on stage, the ultimate embodiment of American dominance? Long enough to believe it, even if...
Natasha pushed against Steve's hold, quick, and he couldn't stop her from gripping his hair again, tugging his head back. His eyes darkened again and he gasped; not a fluke, then. Natasha's heart sped up.
"You want this?" she asked. Steve stared, paralyzed with indecision, mouth open and body tense. She felt him throb within her, his pulse thrumming through her body, and took a reckless chance. "You want this." A statement, not a question, her voice uncompromising.
Steve’s breathing stuttered as he blushed and paled and blushed again. Connected as intimately as they were, she could feel the truth in her, Steve hardening and even swelling a little more in excitement.
“Natasha, we shouldn’t,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I’m… I’m-.”
She stopped him with a kiss, pushing firmly against him. He yielded to her hesitantly, his strength making it impossible for her to manhandle him. When they’d gone from lying down to sitting up, for a second almost equal, Natasha moved one hand to cup the side of Steve’s face, stroking gently. It was unnerving for her too, looking straight at someone like that, not casting her eyes down and looking up through her eyelashes. She fluttered around him, fear another stimulus, and he moaned softly.
“Steve,” she whispered right in his ear. “Don’t you think that maybe we can be more than what everyone wanted us to be?”
And that hit right in the heart of the matter, touching on everything that lay at the center of them.
“But people can’t be… both… can they?”
“We,” she breathed, “are not regular people.” Natasha leaned closer and delicately bared her teeth. Daringly, she bit lightly at his ear and both of them bucked together at the sensation. “Don’t believe everything you hear about the world. Even regular people aren’t all that regular.”
“But…” Steve held his breath for a moment, the words tumbling out of him the next instant. “I’m supposed to be the leader. I’m not supposed to be…”
“I was supposed to be whatever they wanted me to be.” Natasha slid her hand down Steve’s neck and delicately flicked the sensitive, raised nub of his nipples. He gasped again and leaned into her. “Do you want to try? Just… try?”
“Yes.” The word spilled out before Natasha had even finished speaking, and Steve blushed crimson.
“Good,” Natasha said. Her stomach fluttered a little, but she didn’t let it show. “Come on.”
Steve looked surprised as Natasha pulled him over her as they sank back into the mattress, but his confusion cleared in the next instant when Natasha wrapped herself around him, hand buried in his hair, looking up at him challengingly.
“Like this,” she said, twitching her hips up. Steve followed her, his shoulders easing again as she directed him, held him, showed him. Rocking together was suddenly inexpressibly better, even though to outside eyes they had barely changed positions. Natasha lifted herself up to kiss Steve, trailing her mouth down to his neck as he kept thrusting into her at her urging, his hips growing uncoordinated as she worked her mouth and hands in concert on him. He hesitated again as his breathing grew frantic, and Natasha bit down again on his neck, making him shout something through clenched teeth.
“Let go,” she demanded. “I got you.”
Steve made a sound that was almost a sob and buried his head in her shoulder as he frantically answered the demands her body was asking from him. Natasha felt him come, the rush of heat inside her enough to set her off as she held Steve close, cradling him through the aftermath.
They breathed together for long minutes, Natasha slowly stroking down Steve’s neck and back, Steve shivering slightly under her praise.
“You were good,” she murmured over and over again. “You did well.”
Slowly, Steve pulled his head up and Natasha carefully shifted them so she loomed over him, covering his big frame with her small body. The tension had drained from both of them as she slid one hand up his arm and pressed it to the mattress. That he could get out from under her in less than a second, neither of the doubted. And that didn’t matter.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Natasha pressed a finger to his lips, and smiled as she nodded in silent agreement.