Work Text:
Natasha had always pegged Steve as the boy scout, the kid that had gone to the camps that were always being advertised; as a natural leader it was expected that he’d been one as a kid, too, and despite being scrawnier than the other boys she was sure he’d had a good time and at least learned a few things. It turned out she wasn’t wrong about the last.
After their experiment with giving orders Nat had explained to Steve that she was curious to see just what else he could do, what else he liked. “It’s not that our sex life isn’t great,” she’d soothed him when he’d opened his mouth, likely to apologize. He’d been doing it a lot, thinking it was his fault. “Because trust me it is. I just want to try something different. Is that okay?”
He’d looked uncomfortable at first. When he’d first seen the bruises his hands had left on her hips from where he’d clenched too hard he’d nearly had a panic attack, terrified that he’d hurt her. She’d assured him that no, he didn’t, and that any sort of mild discomfort that she’d felt had been entirely worth it. After all it wasn’t everyday that she could get Steve to completely lose his control like that. The man was wound up tighter than a grandfather clock. “Natasha you’re sure you want to do this? I’m a lot stronger than you seem to think.”
“And I’ve taken beatings from men who weren’t as strong but a hell of a lot more determined to inflict pain than you ever will be.” Her hand had squeezed his shoulder as her eyes had pleaded with him. She really wanted to try this.
He’d agreed, grudgingly, and they’d gone over the traditional questions about safewords, limits, what they weren’t willing to do. The usual, except she’d never thought to talk about it with Steve. Tony, maybe, but not Steve.
She wasn’t complaining, though.
The tightening of the rope around her wrists jolted her back from the memory, and she smiled up at where Steve was looking down at her, unsure and timid. Well, that wouldn’t do.
“What are you going to do to me Captain?” She purred, looking up at him through hooded eyes. She’d adopted a thick Russian accent, something she hadn’t employed since, well, since she’d worked in the Red Room. She shifted, trying to work her separately tied wrists out of the thick ropes (Steve had insisted on silk, wanting to hurt her as little as possible) but the knots he’d worked . . . wow. Good to know that boy scout camp had taught him something else other than how to tell which direction was north and how to start a fire without matches. At least that was what she assumed he learned. Either way, pulling free was going to take a considerable amount of time, not that Steve seemed too worried. What was more, when he stood to survey her in her entirety she could see the way his pants had tented, obviously aroused at the idea of having a beautiful woman tied up in his bed. She smirked and watched as he shivered a little.
“Well, ma’am. There are two ways of doing this,” he said, starting out a little shaky. She fixed him with a hard enough stare to force him to clear his throat, his eyes narrowing as he took her in. “An easy way, and a hard way.”
“Mm, looks like you’re hard enough for the both of us,” she teased, eyes flicking down to his crotch then back up to his eyes. It was a mark of how good of an actor he could be, how easily he could slip into the role of an interrogator that he didn’t even slip a smile.
What he did do was infinitely better. He lowered himself to her level, pulling out a small knife, trailing the dull blade across her skin. It would be sharp enough to at least start cutting at the fabric, after which Steve could undo the rest with his bare hands (and wasn’t that a nice enough thought in itself). He’d been sure to test it on himself, ensuring he couldn’t cut her unless he really tried, and she knew he wouldn’t. It didn’t stop the shiver from traveling up her spine, or the goosebumps from rising where the cold metal met her flesh. Now things were getting fun. “Tell me everything you know about the missiles in Russia.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific than that,” she muttered and above her he growled, poking a hole through the expendable shirt she’d been sure to pick out. He pulled the knife slowly from the hole he’d begun in the center and Natasha could feel the fabric rip. She bit her bottom lip, feigning fear as easily as if it coursed through her veins instead of the excitement she felt bubbling in her stomach. Finally, they were getting somewhere.
“You know what ones I’m talking of. You used to work with the man who created them. Ivan ring any bells?”
She let out a harsh laugh, rolling her eyes. “Your information is outdated, Captain, just as you are. You do not have the guts to do what is required of you; I know men like you, and I could have you on the floor begging for your life in before you could sing “Oh say can you see.” Her smirk grew wider and with it she could see Steve’s patience beginning to wane, the crease in his forehead deepening.
“Don’t test me, Miss. Romanov.”
“Oh please. You won’t do anything to me. You have morals.” She gave a haughty laugh, as though she really considered herself out of danger when she knew it would only wind him up more. His grip on her shirt tightened, splitting the rip further up the center, revealing the deep navy bra she’d worn. His favorite. She’d been hoping he might be able to keep from ruining it, but judging by the look in his eye it might be a casualty. Without so much as another word he ripped open the rest of her shirt, cutting away at the seams so it was nothing more than a filleted shell of an article of clothing. He tossed it to the side before slipping his hand down to her pants. He cupped her sex, the pressure more than she’d been expecting and she gave an honest gasp at the sensation. Well, good to know he wasn’t playing around any more.
“I’ve been told to use as much force as necessary to get the information out of you. Think of your situation, Miss. Romanov. Tied to a man’s bed, helpless. You sure you don’t want to give me what I want?” He’d raised an eyebrow, skeptical as one of his fingers started to rub at her clit through the fabric. She bit back a moan.
“I think you’re going to take it either way, so try as hard as you want, Captain America.” She raised her forehead, defiant as her eyes flashed with the challenge. “Do your worst, if you’re man enough to.”
That was the last straw, and in a flash her pants were on the floor. If it had been any other situation she might have wrapped her legs around the man’s neck and squeezed until she felt him go limp, but the fight she put up as Steve tore her panties off of her bodies--literally, and the shreds were tossed to the side without so much as a second thought--was nothing near her best. She aimed a kick at his nose, which he easily grabbed her ankle, then the other, and held them tight with one wrist. His other hand was thrust into her mouth.
“Suck,” he ordered, eyes narrowing. “That’s all you’re getting, so unless you plan on being unable to walk for weeks.”
She would have come back with a retort but he was insistent, playing along with the game as though he believed it were real. She was glad of it, having been worried that he’d be too weirded out with the scenario she’d picked, and once he stopped talking she set to work wetting his fingers, sliding her tongue between them until they were pulled from her mouth and, without any sort of interlude, pushed into her, all three at a time. She bit her tongue out, a low whine leaving her closed mouth. Steve smiled and the sight was enough to get her even more wet. She’d gladly lay down on barbed wire if it meant he’d look at her that way every day. His fingers alternated between scissoring her open and stroking her g-spot, moving in the lightest of ‘come hither’ movements that made her want to scream at him to use more force. She couldn’t be responsible for what she did, though, if he followed through, unsure that his hold on her ankles would be enough to keep her from accidentally kicking him.
“Where are the missiles?” He demanded, voice rough. She could see the strain it was taking on his body not to take her right then and right there, could see how his cock strained at his pants. She tried to imagine it, red and angry and dripping with pre-cum. She licked her lips at the thought, back arching as he pressed a little harder, his thumb now joining in to worry away at her clit. He kept it up for some time, not taking his own pleasure and activly denying her any more than she was getting. All the while he kept asking about the missiles, grumbling some time later that he would have to try something different.
She could hardly wait.
The fingers inside her retreated, leaving her to groan at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he’d undone his fly and shifted his own pants and boxers down. She resisted the urge to taunt him about the red, white, and blue striped boxers, and tried even harder not to think about it being laundry day. That was the only time he ever wore them, the pair having been a gag gift from Clint.
He must’ve sensed that she was slipping and pressed the head of his cock to her center, teasing her with it as he watched her grow more and more interested in what he was doing.
“Give me the missile coordinates and I’ll let you have it,” he murmured. “I know you can feel how big I am, and you’re thinking right now how great I’ll feel inside you. So give me what I want and I’ll return the favor. Scouts honor.”
It might have ruined it if she wasn’t so turned on by how comfortable he’d become. She bit her bottom lip, making a great show of debating internally, and without waiting for an answer he slid, nearly effortlessly, into her. She groaned. Familiar with his cock though she was, it was almost always a new sensation every time they had sex. In this case he was going slow, pushing in inch by inch until he was completely seated in her. She tried to shift her hips, to gain some sort of purchase on the situation, but he was having none of that. His hand clenched her ankles tighter.
“Coordinates, Miss. Romanov.”
She shook her head. “Never,” she gasped as he tilted his hips forward slightly.
That made him chuckle, and without a word he pulled himself just as slowly out of her and made to stand up and leave. Wait, this had never been in the plan!
“No!” She cried out, pulling at the ropes and only half acting. No way was he going to leave her there after that! It was nearly enough to pull her out of character, but she recovered quickly. “P-please. Don’t leave me like this. You wouldn’t want anyone else to come in and spoil the fun for you, take me while you were away, would you?” She asked, arching an eyebrow and deepening her voice, hoping to call to his protective tendencies. Except he wasn’t her normal Steve, and the smirk spreading on his lips was enough to tell her that he knew he’d won, it was just a matter of collecting his prize.
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want. Maybe I’ll parade my whole entire battalion down here to have a chance at you to make you talk, Miss. Romanov, and if that doesn’t work I’ll call down the whole damn army. I told you I’ve been allowed to use as much force as I see fit. Now. Coordinates.”
Mind reeling from the imagery he’d just provided she quickly spit out the first place she could think of, somewhere deep in Austria that had nothing to do with the Red Room. Not that Steve cared; that damn smirk of his grew and he repositioned himself in between her legs.
“Good girl,” he murmured, and before she could say something threatening, trying to pull her dignity back out of the dirt, he’d thrust hard into her again. She let out a yelp of surprise that quickly bled into a moan when his hips snapped hard against hers. “So long as you keep talking, Agent, I’ll keep giving you what you want. See how that works? You stop,” he slowed his thrusts down, making Nat let out a low groan of displeasure. “And I do the same. Got it?”
“Go to hell.” She growled, trying not to show how pleased she was. He was doing so well, and she’d not even been able to get out of the ropes he’d secured her with. He laughed, picking speed up again once she started talking. It was hard coming up with false information when he was busy trying to make her voice crack, trying to force a scream out of her, and more than once he succeeded, her body contorting with a myriad of orgasms. He grinned every time, trying to force her to talk through her pleasure but all that came out was unintelligible nonsense. When he finally came it was with a grunt of his own, skin pressed flush against hers as he leaned down to bite into her shoulder, practically drawing blood with the force of his jaw clenching. She couldn’t help but groan as well, legs wrapped around his torso to hold him close, rather than trying to hurt him.
They were silent for some time before Steve murmured. “Now, Miss. Romanov, have you ever given a thought to joining Shield?”
Her laugh was only interrupted by the one demand she had of him: she’d join up so long as he promised to teach her how to work the same knots, then do the same thing to her every night. It was the first honest thing she’s said since they started.