TA, Nothing to Hide, 1/1, NC17, Clint/Natasha/Coulson/Fury, 1965
Title: Nothing to Hide
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: The Avengers
Rating: NC17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff, (Natasha x Coulson, Clint x Fury, Clint x Natasha x Coulson x Fury)
Warning(s): au, pwp, pegging (sex toys), oral, voyeurism, master/slave kink, multiple partners/partner sharing
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s):
kink_bingo: pegging/strap-ons
Word Count: 1965
Master List: card
Notes: Part of the guild 'verse. Where Clint and Natasha were assassins purchased by Coulson and Fury. Because of reasons. Also, I was listening to Kermit the Frog sing The Rainbow Connection almost the entire time I was writing that (re: the title). I have no shame, but I think kari_hermione likes me better this way. ;)
Summary: Natasha is handed a strap on and told to fuck Clint. Clint doesn't mind.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers. This is a work of fiction, inspired by the creations of the original owners. No harm was intended.
Coulson and Fury like to watch. Usually, it’s Clint and Natasha sitting quietly in the shadows and observing everything, but sometimes their roles are reversed. Coulson and Fury sit in the smoking room chairs, glasses in their hands and a bottle of scotch between them, and the only sounds they make are when they give directions.
Clint and Natasha don’t mind. They like to keep their Sir and Master happy. Tonight is no exception.
The wooden floor is cold under Clint’s back but Natasha is warm at his front. Her kisses are slow and sweet, tasting like the vanilla ice cream they were fed after dinner and Clint just wants to suck the taste from her tongue lazily. Natasha’s nails are sharp against his skin, so careful not to scratch, but they still leave goose bumps in their wake when they she rakes them down his chest.
Clint moans her name and she bites his lip in reply. He’s aware, vaguely, of the bottle of scotch being opened again out of the corner of his eyes. Natasha’s fingers on his hips are more important and he slides his hand down her back to drag her body closer to his.
Her stomach is warm where his cock rubs against it, leaking precome on her soft skin, and her breasts are pressed against his chest. The nylon straps of Natasha’s strap-on are rough against his skin though and Clint holds her close in an attempt to get the silicone to warm between their bodies. Clint can feel Natasha’s smile against his jaw, and she rolls her hips slowly and grinds it against him.
”Natasha,” Coulson says, and he means enough. They’ve been playing together long enough, kissing and groping and grinding together to moan loudly and please him and their Master.
Pressing one last kiss to Clint’s lips, Natasha pushes off of Clint slowly and he rolls over onto his belly. Neither of them needs to be told what they’re supposed to do tonight, not when their Master passed Natasha the nylon harness and the flesh-toned, silicone cock. Clint doesn’t mind and he knows Natasha will take any excuse to push him over the edge.
Natasha pushes at Clint’s body, guiding him to his knees with his back to Coulson and Fury. She drips lube into her own palm before curling her fingers around Clint’s and she strokes them as if they were his cock. Clint almost wishes Natasha was touching his cock, aches for more friction then a few moments of grinding lazily against her stomach.
Clint drops his weight to his elbows and spreads his knees wide, baring himself to Coulson and Fury unashamedly. He reaches between his own thighs to tug at his cock lightly, biting his lip to hide his moan, before pushing his fingers further back and rubbing them wetly over his hole. Clint’s still loose from being bent over their Master’s desk this afternoon and riding Sir this morning, and he pushes two slick fingers inside of himself with a groan.
Hanging his head between his shoulders, Clint presses his forehead against his forearm, but it doesn’t muffle or hide the fact he’s hard as a rock and moaning for them loudly like a whore. Clint fucks himself slowly at first, working his fingers in deep and scissoring them, and it doesn’t take long before he’s slick enough to ease a third inside of himself. He fucks himself harder then, clenching around his fingers and rolling his hips in time with his thrusts.
Natasha’s nails scrape through his hair, tugging his head back, and he moans again. The fingers of her other hand are curled around the base of her strap-on, angling it up, and she doesn’t need to tell him to “suck” for him to know that’s what she wants him to do. The silicone head bumps against his lips and Clint licks the tip before swallowing around it and sucking hard.
The toy glides along Clint’s tongue easily, Natasha gripping his hair and holding him where she wants him, and she fucks his throat with hard shoves of her hips. He knows how to do this, has spent enough time on his knees for their Sir and Master and swallowed around enough dildos in his life to enjoy it. Clint’s moans are muffled and he rubs his fingers against his prostate hard every time Natasha pushes the strap-on deep enough that Clint’s lips bump against the metal ring holding it in place.
Right now Clint is helpless to do anything but what Natasha and Fury and Coulson want him to and he fucking loves it. He’d beg her for more if he wasn’t choking on her toy dick and the blood is pounding in his head loud enough to deafen him to everything else. All that matters is Natasha in front of him, fucking his mouth and the distant feeling of their Sir’s and Master’s eyes on him while Clint fucks himself open for her with his fingers.
Natasha stops thrusting, pulling out of Clint’s mouth with an obscene pop. He’s irrationally amused at the fact there’s a trail of spit connecting his mouth with the silicone, and he flicks his tongue out to break it. Above him, Natasha giggles and pets his hair gently. Clint looks up at her, grinning, and she pushes his head back down and grins in response.
This time when Natasha moves him, she’s gentler. She tugs at Clint’s wrist, pulling his fingers out from his hole and starts to push him. He drops his knee and rolls onto his back easily, wrenching his body to the side to give Coulson and Fury a better angle to watch from. Natasha touches Clint’s hips again, guiding him back onto his belly, and she digs her nails in and tugs his ass up into the air.
Clint pushes himself up onto his palms and tries not to wince when she smacks his ass playfully. He’s acutely aware of the strap-on bumping against the back of his balls and she angles it up and rolls her hips. It glides against him wetly, the head catching against his hole, but she doesn’t push in just yet.
Natasha likes to tease, but their Sir and Master don’t seem to mind. They’re both rubbing the front of their slacks slowly, the hardness of their cocks obvious, and Clint’s mouth waters from the desire to wrap his lips around them both and suck them hard. He watches their Master take a sip of his scotch, the bobbing of his throat, and Natasha takes his distraction as a chance to line up the strap-on and thrust into him hard.
Clint cries out loudly and pushes eagerly back for more. He can feel Natasha’s hands on his hips, her nails digging in sharp as she guides him where she wants him. The thrusts of her hips are relentless, barely waiting for him to accommodate to the girth and length of the silicone toy inside of him before she’s pulling out and thrusting back in hard.
Like this, when he’s on his hands and knees and begging for her to fuck him, Natasha uses Clint like Coulson and Fury do. She guides his hips with gentle presses of her fingers, nudges his legs further apart with the gentle knocking of her knees against them, and Clint is powerless to do anything. Clint is Natasha’s and Natasha is Clint’s and they are both doing this for their Sir and Master.
The curve of Natasha’s hipbones are sharp against his ass when she slams the toy inside of him deep, the nylon rubbing roughly, and Clint just begs for more. He fucks himself hard on the strap-on in time with her thrusts, pushing back desperately and clenching tight around the silicone in his eagerness to please both her and himself and give Coulson and Fury a good show.
”Make him come,” their Master says quietly, the first words he’s spoken since he told them to come to the smoking room and strip. He sips at his scotch and rubs himself through his slacks, and Natasha and Clint are both so eager to make him happy.
Clint drops to his elbows easily, bowing his back and changing the angle at which Natasha’s strap-on pushes into him. It brushes against his prostate, rubbing frantically and Clint keens in response. He spreads his knees wider, tips his hips up further, and on the next thrust of Natasha’s hips the strap-on is hitting it hard and Clint cries out loudly.
Determined, Natasha digs her nails into Clint’s hips hard, pain flaring in response as she holds him in place. She aims for that spot inside of him again and again, harder and faster until Clint has no choice but to clench tight around the toy and come with a broken sob, his cock pulsing hot on his stomach and dripping onto the floor.
Natasha doesn’t slow her thrusts until he’s done coming, and grinds the strap-on inside of him with almost lazy thrusts of her hips.
”Good girl,” Coulson praises. Unlike Fury he’s got his cock out, working himself slowly with lazy pumps of his hips up into his fist. He crooks his fingers and gestures for her to come, and Natasha obeys eagerly.
Clint stays where he was left obediently, swaying on his elbows and knees and feeling so empty without the silicone thrusting inside of him. He watches Natasha wiggle her hips as she undoes the harness carefully, setting it at their Sir’s feet, and by the time she climbs into his lap he’s already rolled on a condom and is ready for her to slide down his length.
Natasha moans loudly, happily, and Clint feels a pang of want inside of him. He wants to be the one causing Natasha to be making those sounds, but more than that, he wants to be straddling their Sir’s lap and riding him hard like a good boy.
As if sensing Clint’s distress, Fury calls Clint’s name and Clint’s head snaps up in response. “Come,” he says, snapping once, and Clint crawls across the floor until he’s kneeling between the wide spread of their Master’s thighs. Fury’s fingers brush through Clint’s hair slowly, soothingly, and he pops the button of his slacks with one hand.
Their Master doesn’t tell Clint to suck, but he doesn’t need to. He eases his cock out of his slacks slowly, groaning softly when it’s free. Fury tugs Clint’s hair, urging him forward, and Clint wraps his lips around their Master’s cock eagerly and swallows him deep.
Clint fucks himself on Fury’s cock, pressing his fingers into his thighs eagerly and sucking hard, spurred on by the breathless little noises Coulson makes and the way Natasha is moaning her pleasure eagerly.
This is how things are supposed to be, Clint thinks distractedly, relaxing his throat and wrapping his lips around the base of their Master’s cock. Clint sucks hard, determined, because the four of them should always be getting off together, or at the very least Clint and Natasha need to be pleasing their Sir and Master.
Natasha is still riding Coulson hard when Fury comes down the back of Clint’s throat, bracing herself on his shoulders and moaning her encouragement as he sucks at her nipples and fingers her clit.
Clint moans, swallowing eagerly around Fury’s cock and he doesn’t pull off until their Master starts to go soft in his mouth and groans. Pressing his cheek against Fury’s thigh, Clint presses kisses to the smooth fabric of their Master’s slacks and moans as Fury pets his hair. They both watch Natasha and Coulson quietly, waiting for them to come, to cry out, and for the cycle to be complete.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: The Avengers
Rating: NC17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff, (Natasha x Coulson, Clint x Fury, Clint x Natasha x Coulson x Fury)
Warning(s): au, pwp, pegging (sex toys), oral, voyeurism, master/slave kink, multiple partners/partner sharing
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s):
kink_bingo: pegging/strap-ons
Word Count: 1965
Master List: card
Notes: Part of the guild 'verse. Where Clint and Natasha were assassins purchased by Coulson and Fury. Because of reasons. Also, I was listening to Kermit the Frog sing The Rainbow Connection almost the entire time I was writing that (re: the title). I have no shame, but I think kari_hermione likes me better this way. ;)
Summary: Natasha is handed a strap on and told to fuck Clint. Clint doesn't mind.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers. This is a work of fiction, inspired by the creations of the original owners. No harm was intended.
Coulson and Fury like to watch. Usually, it’s Clint and Natasha sitting quietly in the shadows and observing everything, but sometimes their roles are reversed. Coulson and Fury sit in the smoking room chairs, glasses in their hands and a bottle of scotch between them, and the only sounds they make are when they give directions.
Clint and Natasha don’t mind. They like to keep their Sir and Master happy. Tonight is no exception.
The wooden floor is cold under Clint’s back but Natasha is warm at his front. Her kisses are slow and sweet, tasting like the vanilla ice cream they were fed after dinner and Clint just wants to suck the taste from her tongue lazily. Natasha’s nails are sharp against his skin, so careful not to scratch, but they still leave goose bumps in their wake when they she rakes them down his chest.
Clint moans her name and she bites his lip in reply. He’s aware, vaguely, of the bottle of scotch being opened again out of the corner of his eyes. Natasha’s fingers on his hips are more important and he slides his hand down her back to drag her body closer to his.
Her stomach is warm where his cock rubs against it, leaking precome on her soft skin, and her breasts are pressed against his chest. The nylon straps of Natasha’s strap-on are rough against his skin though and Clint holds her close in an attempt to get the silicone to warm between their bodies. Clint can feel Natasha’s smile against his jaw, and she rolls her hips slowly and grinds it against him.
”Natasha,” Coulson says, and he means enough. They’ve been playing together long enough, kissing and groping and grinding together to moan loudly and please him and their Master.
Pressing one last kiss to Clint’s lips, Natasha pushes off of Clint slowly and he rolls over onto his belly. Neither of them needs to be told what they’re supposed to do tonight, not when their Master passed Natasha the nylon harness and the flesh-toned, silicone cock. Clint doesn’t mind and he knows Natasha will take any excuse to push him over the edge.
Natasha pushes at Clint’s body, guiding him to his knees with his back to Coulson and Fury. She drips lube into her own palm before curling her fingers around Clint’s and she strokes them as if they were his cock. Clint almost wishes Natasha was touching his cock, aches for more friction then a few moments of grinding lazily against her stomach.
Clint drops his weight to his elbows and spreads his knees wide, baring himself to Coulson and Fury unashamedly. He reaches between his own thighs to tug at his cock lightly, biting his lip to hide his moan, before pushing his fingers further back and rubbing them wetly over his hole. Clint’s still loose from being bent over their Master’s desk this afternoon and riding Sir this morning, and he pushes two slick fingers inside of himself with a groan.
Hanging his head between his shoulders, Clint presses his forehead against his forearm, but it doesn’t muffle or hide the fact he’s hard as a rock and moaning for them loudly like a whore. Clint fucks himself slowly at first, working his fingers in deep and scissoring them, and it doesn’t take long before he’s slick enough to ease a third inside of himself. He fucks himself harder then, clenching around his fingers and rolling his hips in time with his thrusts.
Natasha’s nails scrape through his hair, tugging his head back, and he moans again. The fingers of her other hand are curled around the base of her strap-on, angling it up, and she doesn’t need to tell him to “suck” for him to know that’s what she wants him to do. The silicone head bumps against his lips and Clint licks the tip before swallowing around it and sucking hard.
The toy glides along Clint’s tongue easily, Natasha gripping his hair and holding him where she wants him, and she fucks his throat with hard shoves of her hips. He knows how to do this, has spent enough time on his knees for their Sir and Master and swallowed around enough dildos in his life to enjoy it. Clint’s moans are muffled and he rubs his fingers against his prostate hard every time Natasha pushes the strap-on deep enough that Clint’s lips bump against the metal ring holding it in place.
Right now Clint is helpless to do anything but what Natasha and Fury and Coulson want him to and he fucking loves it. He’d beg her for more if he wasn’t choking on her toy dick and the blood is pounding in his head loud enough to deafen him to everything else. All that matters is Natasha in front of him, fucking his mouth and the distant feeling of their Sir’s and Master’s eyes on him while Clint fucks himself open for her with his fingers.
Natasha stops thrusting, pulling out of Clint’s mouth with an obscene pop. He’s irrationally amused at the fact there’s a trail of spit connecting his mouth with the silicone, and he flicks his tongue out to break it. Above him, Natasha giggles and pets his hair gently. Clint looks up at her, grinning, and she pushes his head back down and grins in response.
This time when Natasha moves him, she’s gentler. She tugs at Clint’s wrist, pulling his fingers out from his hole and starts to push him. He drops his knee and rolls onto his back easily, wrenching his body to the side to give Coulson and Fury a better angle to watch from. Natasha touches Clint’s hips again, guiding him back onto his belly, and she digs her nails in and tugs his ass up into the air.
Clint pushes himself up onto his palms and tries not to wince when she smacks his ass playfully. He’s acutely aware of the strap-on bumping against the back of his balls and she angles it up and rolls her hips. It glides against him wetly, the head catching against his hole, but she doesn’t push in just yet.
Natasha likes to tease, but their Sir and Master don’t seem to mind. They’re both rubbing the front of their slacks slowly, the hardness of their cocks obvious, and Clint’s mouth waters from the desire to wrap his lips around them both and suck them hard. He watches their Master take a sip of his scotch, the bobbing of his throat, and Natasha takes his distraction as a chance to line up the strap-on and thrust into him hard.
Clint cries out loudly and pushes eagerly back for more. He can feel Natasha’s hands on his hips, her nails digging in sharp as she guides him where she wants him. The thrusts of her hips are relentless, barely waiting for him to accommodate to the girth and length of the silicone toy inside of him before she’s pulling out and thrusting back in hard.
Like this, when he’s on his hands and knees and begging for her to fuck him, Natasha uses Clint like Coulson and Fury do. She guides his hips with gentle presses of her fingers, nudges his legs further apart with the gentle knocking of her knees against them, and Clint is powerless to do anything. Clint is Natasha’s and Natasha is Clint’s and they are both doing this for their Sir and Master.
The curve of Natasha’s hipbones are sharp against his ass when she slams the toy inside of him deep, the nylon rubbing roughly, and Clint just begs for more. He fucks himself hard on the strap-on in time with her thrusts, pushing back desperately and clenching tight around the silicone in his eagerness to please both her and himself and give Coulson and Fury a good show.
”Make him come,” their Master says quietly, the first words he’s spoken since he told them to come to the smoking room and strip. He sips at his scotch and rubs himself through his slacks, and Natasha and Clint are both so eager to make him happy.
Clint drops to his elbows easily, bowing his back and changing the angle at which Natasha’s strap-on pushes into him. It brushes against his prostate, rubbing frantically and Clint keens in response. He spreads his knees wider, tips his hips up further, and on the next thrust of Natasha’s hips the strap-on is hitting it hard and Clint cries out loudly.
Determined, Natasha digs her nails into Clint’s hips hard, pain flaring in response as she holds him in place. She aims for that spot inside of him again and again, harder and faster until Clint has no choice but to clench tight around the toy and come with a broken sob, his cock pulsing hot on his stomach and dripping onto the floor.
Natasha doesn’t slow her thrusts until he’s done coming, and grinds the strap-on inside of him with almost lazy thrusts of her hips.
”Good girl,” Coulson praises. Unlike Fury he’s got his cock out, working himself slowly with lazy pumps of his hips up into his fist. He crooks his fingers and gestures for her to come, and Natasha obeys eagerly.
Clint stays where he was left obediently, swaying on his elbows and knees and feeling so empty without the silicone thrusting inside of him. He watches Natasha wiggle her hips as she undoes the harness carefully, setting it at their Sir’s feet, and by the time she climbs into his lap he’s already rolled on a condom and is ready for her to slide down his length.
Natasha moans loudly, happily, and Clint feels a pang of want inside of him. He wants to be the one causing Natasha to be making those sounds, but more than that, he wants to be straddling their Sir’s lap and riding him hard like a good boy.
As if sensing Clint’s distress, Fury calls Clint’s name and Clint’s head snaps up in response. “Come,” he says, snapping once, and Clint crawls across the floor until he’s kneeling between the wide spread of their Master’s thighs. Fury’s fingers brush through Clint’s hair slowly, soothingly, and he pops the button of his slacks with one hand.
Their Master doesn’t tell Clint to suck, but he doesn’t need to. He eases his cock out of his slacks slowly, groaning softly when it’s free. Fury tugs Clint’s hair, urging him forward, and Clint wraps his lips around their Master’s cock eagerly and swallows him deep.
Clint fucks himself on Fury’s cock, pressing his fingers into his thighs eagerly and sucking hard, spurred on by the breathless little noises Coulson makes and the way Natasha is moaning her pleasure eagerly.
This is how things are supposed to be, Clint thinks distractedly, relaxing his throat and wrapping his lips around the base of their Master’s cock. Clint sucks hard, determined, because the four of them should always be getting off together, or at the very least Clint and Natasha need to be pleasing their Sir and Master.
Natasha is still riding Coulson hard when Fury comes down the back of Clint’s throat, bracing herself on his shoulders and moaning her encouragement as he sucks at her nipples and fingers her clit.
Clint moans, swallowing eagerly around Fury’s cock and he doesn’t pull off until their Master starts to go soft in his mouth and groans. Pressing his cheek against Fury’s thigh, Clint presses kisses to the smooth fabric of their Master’s slacks and moans as Fury pets his hair. They both watch Natasha and Coulson quietly, waiting for them to come, to cry out, and for the cycle to be complete.