kathierif_fic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kathierif_fic) wrote2012-10-24 10:18 pm
kathierif_fic) wrote2012-10-24 10:18 pm
Fic: Push (Avengers, Tony Stark/Steve Rogers, FRAO)
Title: Push
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: TRANSFORMATIVE FANWORK YAY!
Summary: Steve is one of the gentlest men Tony has ever known.
A/N: for kink_bingo, square "rough body play".
Steve Rogers is one of the gentlest men Tony Stark has known in his entire life. He's kind and honest and helps old people across the street while listening to them talk about their grandchildren and their dogs and their gardens or what it is that old people talk about, and he doesn't complain about it. Ever.
Steve is considerate and polite and Tony is sure that he would even apologize to the villains he knocks out with his shield if they hadn't offended Steve first and if Steve didn't hate bullies with a fiery and sometimes frightening passion.
If there is one member of the Avengers who can be tagged as good, without doubt or hesitation, it's Steve. Clint and Natasha are assassins, Thor has the arrogance of a god, Bruce has Hulk and Tony...well, he's Tony and nobody would ever mistake him for a genuinely good person.
He did too many bad things in his life for that.
But Steve? Steve is the paragon of good. He's the glowing example they all should strive for, the golden boy, the leader of Fury's Avengers.
He saves kittens from trees in his free time.
Tony knows all that; he built a lifetime of expectations on it, and his brain simply doesn't know how to compute his current situation and simply decides to give up.
Reboot.
How did he end up on his back, naked, wit his legs wrapped tight around Steve's hips, while Steve's teeth tug sharply at the skin over his collarbone?
How did that happen?
Steve is gripping his hips, his fingers digging into Tony's bones, and Tony can already feel the ache that will result in bruises, but then, Steve's mouth is on his, hot and insisting, his tongue slick when it pushes past Tony's lips a little more demanding than Tony had ever expected.
When he pulls back, he is flushed, his hair hangs into his forehead and makes him look even younger than he is. His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, his lips red and swollen from kissing and biting.
Tony's heart clenches painfully against the arc reactor.
He wants Steve.
Shoving the lube into Steve's hands, he barely waits until Steve's fingers are coated in the clear gel before he grabs his wrist and guides it where he wants - needs - to feel Steve now.
Steve follows his lead, but he is moving slowly, carefully when he breaches Tony's body.
Tony whines and pushes back against his finger, orders "More!" and clenches his own fingers into the muscles of Steve's shoulders.
And then, Steve is shoving two fingers into Tony, and all Tony can do is hang on and breathe through the sharp ache, trying to hold back the whimper.
"Tony," Steve says, his voice high and breathy, and he twists his fingers. It's a little too soon, a little too much, too deep, too wide, making Tony really feel it.
Tony loves it.
He craves it.
He wants more.
The pain is just sharp enough to highten the edge of his pleasure, and this, this is what he really wants, Steve's fingers pushing deep and working him open, but at the same time, he's convinced he can never let Steve know what exactly it is that turns him on so much.
Steve wouldn't understand, he's sure.
"Another one," he gasps out as soon as he's sure he can form words without sobbing. He's not ready for a third finger, not by far, but Steve doesn't know and Tony loves that he can feel it.
He loves pushing himself, too.
"Tony," Steve gasps again. Tony has reduced him to this, to a trembling hand pressed against his side, wide-blown eyes and that helpless look of adoration on his face.
Tony's own arousal ratchets up another notch. He feels like one of Clint's bows, thrumming with tension and arousal, and he holds his breath, not sure what will come first: him breaking or the sweet release.
Steve obliges when Tony groans, a third finger nudging up against Tony's ass, slipping and sliding against his slick skin, and Tony's breath catches again at the touch to his stretched skin and muscles. His nerves tingle with mixed messages.
Tony loves every second of it.
"Tony," Steve repeats helplessly. He pulls Tony closer until he can press his mouth to the juncture of Tony's neck and shoulder, his teeth pressing against sweat-slicked skin.
Tony tilts his head back, giving him more room, and pants openly.
"You ready?" Steve mumbles into his shoulder with another rough twist of his fingers in Tony, and Tony should say no, but he knows he won't.
"For you, always," he says and pushes himself back onto Steve's fingers. He's meant it to sound smooth and seductive, but he only sounds wrecked and kind of drunk.
"Don't say that if you don't mean it," Steve admonishes him, his fingers working restlessly and stretching Tony at the same time as he looks earnestly at Tony.
Tony has to pull him close and kiss him, because he has no idea what else he's supposed to do in this kind of situation.
"Seriously, I'm good," he manages to say around Steve's tongue in his mouth. "Please, any time now."
He helpfully spreads his thighs even wider apart and pushes back, pushes himself onto Steve's fingers just to enjoy the burn and stretch.
Steve makes a rough sound at the back of his throat and shoves his fingers into Tony with a bit more force, only to still and slowly pull them out.
Tony watches him with glazed eyes, drinking in every detail of his gorgeous body while Steve carefully drips lube into his palm and slicks himself up, his skin gloriously flushed.
He's biting his lip again, as if he needs the brief pain to distract and center himself.
Tony can understand that. He feels half-crazy with arousal and lust, his body on fire and thrumming, and then, Steve is back and pushes into him in one long thrust.
The pain is sort of breathtaking, but so is the expression on Steve's face, the glazed look in his eyes when he blinks slowly and takes deep breaths while curiously looking down at Tony, and then, he smiles that sweet smile he uses when he thinks about how much he loves Tony, and the pain has faded enough for Tony to twitch his hips and get Steve as close to him as he can without crawling into his skin with him.
Steve is overwhelmed and on the edge, his muscles trembling. Sweat is starting to drip from his temples and the tip of his nose, and Tony knows that he won't last long.
"Steve," he murmurs, his fingers rubbing through Steve's hair, tugging gently before he slides them down his neck and shoulders, across the cut of his shoulderblades and down his ribs. "Steve. Move."
Steve does.
He pulls out and thrusts back in, and Tony knows that he's trying to go slow, to enjoy the moment and make sure Tony won't get hurt, but he's so close and it gets harder and harder.
Besides, Tony himself is not doing anything to help Steve keep his control. He clenches his muscles and rakes his blunt nails across Steve's nipples, he reaches down to stroke his fingertips across Steve's abs, he curls himself against Steve's body, his mouth on his chest and one hand curved around his own thigh, cradling Steve's balls in his palm and gently rolling them around.
Steve doesn't stand a chance against Tony's sensual assault.
His pace picks up. His fingers settle back on Tony's hips, tight and possessive.
Tony loves it. He loves this so much. Steve is pounding into him by now, thrusts coming faster and sharper than before, and it is as if he's forgotten his own strength.
"Yes," Tony whispers and arches his spine invitingly. "Yes, Steve..."
Steve makes a brief, high-pitched noise and reaches for Tony's dick. His fingers grip just a little bit too tight to be absolutely comfortable, rasp just a little too dryly against Tony's skin, but Tony still arches into every single touch like a starving man.
Under Steve's ministrations, he doesn't take that long to come, his muscles contracting around Steve and squeezing until Steve gives a gasped moan and begins fucking him harder, chasing his own orgasm.
Tony is flying high on endorphins and love, but he still grimaces when Steve slowly and carefully pulls out and Tony's muscles protest. He will feel this in the morning, but he's almost looking forward to it.
Steve collapses next to him, a wet washcloth in his hand, and cleans him up before he curls a possessive hand around Tony's middle.
"That was great," he slurs, his eyes half-closed, but he's smiling that quietly happy smile of his that he kept hidden for so long, until Tony coaxed it out of him.
"Yeah, it was," he replies and grins.
Steve just pulls him closer. "Don't think I don't know what you just did," he murmurs, his lips almost brushing the shell of Tony's ear.
"What did I do?" Tony asks back and adopts an air of innocence. It's hard to keep it up though when Steve is doing his best to wrap his entire body around Tony.
Steve doesn't answer immediately, and Tony floats in a haze of satisfaction and love.
"You pushed me," Steve finally says. "To give you more before you were ready for it."
Tony spends a long moment coming up with justifications, reasons why he'd done what he'd done, excuses and deflections, but before he can open his mouth and use any of them, Steve sighs and pulls the sheets up over them.
"I know you love it," he says, "when I'm a little rough, like I don't know my own strength." He brushes his fingertips over Tony's skin, gentle and careful and considerate.
"I do," Tony admits. There's no reason to lie about it.
"Me too," Steve replies. "But next time, can we do it a little bit more...sweet?"
Tony laughs. "Of course we can."
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: TRANSFORMATIVE FANWORK YAY!
Summary: Steve is one of the gentlest men Tony has ever known.
A/N: for kink_bingo, square "rough body play".
Steve Rogers is one of the gentlest men Tony Stark has known in his entire life. He's kind and honest and helps old people across the street while listening to them talk about their grandchildren and their dogs and their gardens or what it is that old people talk about, and he doesn't complain about it. Ever.
Steve is considerate and polite and Tony is sure that he would even apologize to the villains he knocks out with his shield if they hadn't offended Steve first and if Steve didn't hate bullies with a fiery and sometimes frightening passion.
If there is one member of the Avengers who can be tagged as good, without doubt or hesitation, it's Steve. Clint and Natasha are assassins, Thor has the arrogance of a god, Bruce has Hulk and Tony...well, he's Tony and nobody would ever mistake him for a genuinely good person.
He did too many bad things in his life for that.
But Steve? Steve is the paragon of good. He's the glowing example they all should strive for, the golden boy, the leader of Fury's Avengers.
He saves kittens from trees in his free time.
Tony knows all that; he built a lifetime of expectations on it, and his brain simply doesn't know how to compute his current situation and simply decides to give up.
Reboot.
How did he end up on his back, naked, wit his legs wrapped tight around Steve's hips, while Steve's teeth tug sharply at the skin over his collarbone?
How did that happen?
Steve is gripping his hips, his fingers digging into Tony's bones, and Tony can already feel the ache that will result in bruises, but then, Steve's mouth is on his, hot and insisting, his tongue slick when it pushes past Tony's lips a little more demanding than Tony had ever expected.
When he pulls back, he is flushed, his hair hangs into his forehead and makes him look even younger than he is. His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, his lips red and swollen from kissing and biting.
Tony's heart clenches painfully against the arc reactor.
He wants Steve.
Shoving the lube into Steve's hands, he barely waits until Steve's fingers are coated in the clear gel before he grabs his wrist and guides it where he wants - needs - to feel Steve now.
Steve follows his lead, but he is moving slowly, carefully when he breaches Tony's body.
Tony whines and pushes back against his finger, orders "More!" and clenches his own fingers into the muscles of Steve's shoulders.
And then, Steve is shoving two fingers into Tony, and all Tony can do is hang on and breathe through the sharp ache, trying to hold back the whimper.
"Tony," Steve says, his voice high and breathy, and he twists his fingers. It's a little too soon, a little too much, too deep, too wide, making Tony really feel it.
Tony loves it.
He craves it.
He wants more.
The pain is just sharp enough to highten the edge of his pleasure, and this, this is what he really wants, Steve's fingers pushing deep and working him open, but at the same time, he's convinced he can never let Steve know what exactly it is that turns him on so much.
Steve wouldn't understand, he's sure.
"Another one," he gasps out as soon as he's sure he can form words without sobbing. He's not ready for a third finger, not by far, but Steve doesn't know and Tony loves that he can feel it.
He loves pushing himself, too.
"Tony," Steve gasps again. Tony has reduced him to this, to a trembling hand pressed against his side, wide-blown eyes and that helpless look of adoration on his face.
Tony's own arousal ratchets up another notch. He feels like one of Clint's bows, thrumming with tension and arousal, and he holds his breath, not sure what will come first: him breaking or the sweet release.
Steve obliges when Tony groans, a third finger nudging up against Tony's ass, slipping and sliding against his slick skin, and Tony's breath catches again at the touch to his stretched skin and muscles. His nerves tingle with mixed messages.
Tony loves every second of it.
"Tony," Steve repeats helplessly. He pulls Tony closer until he can press his mouth to the juncture of Tony's neck and shoulder, his teeth pressing against sweat-slicked skin.
Tony tilts his head back, giving him more room, and pants openly.
"You ready?" Steve mumbles into his shoulder with another rough twist of his fingers in Tony, and Tony should say no, but he knows he won't.
"For you, always," he says and pushes himself back onto Steve's fingers. He's meant it to sound smooth and seductive, but he only sounds wrecked and kind of drunk.
"Don't say that if you don't mean it," Steve admonishes him, his fingers working restlessly and stretching Tony at the same time as he looks earnestly at Tony.
Tony has to pull him close and kiss him, because he has no idea what else he's supposed to do in this kind of situation.
"Seriously, I'm good," he manages to say around Steve's tongue in his mouth. "Please, any time now."
He helpfully spreads his thighs even wider apart and pushes back, pushes himself onto Steve's fingers just to enjoy the burn and stretch.
Steve makes a rough sound at the back of his throat and shoves his fingers into Tony with a bit more force, only to still and slowly pull them out.
Tony watches him with glazed eyes, drinking in every detail of his gorgeous body while Steve carefully drips lube into his palm and slicks himself up, his skin gloriously flushed.
He's biting his lip again, as if he needs the brief pain to distract and center himself.
Tony can understand that. He feels half-crazy with arousal and lust, his body on fire and thrumming, and then, Steve is back and pushes into him in one long thrust.
The pain is sort of breathtaking, but so is the expression on Steve's face, the glazed look in his eyes when he blinks slowly and takes deep breaths while curiously looking down at Tony, and then, he smiles that sweet smile he uses when he thinks about how much he loves Tony, and the pain has faded enough for Tony to twitch his hips and get Steve as close to him as he can without crawling into his skin with him.
Steve is overwhelmed and on the edge, his muscles trembling. Sweat is starting to drip from his temples and the tip of his nose, and Tony knows that he won't last long.
"Steve," he murmurs, his fingers rubbing through Steve's hair, tugging gently before he slides them down his neck and shoulders, across the cut of his shoulderblades and down his ribs. "Steve. Move."
Steve does.
He pulls out and thrusts back in, and Tony knows that he's trying to go slow, to enjoy the moment and make sure Tony won't get hurt, but he's so close and it gets harder and harder.
Besides, Tony himself is not doing anything to help Steve keep his control. He clenches his muscles and rakes his blunt nails across Steve's nipples, he reaches down to stroke his fingertips across Steve's abs, he curls himself against Steve's body, his mouth on his chest and one hand curved around his own thigh, cradling Steve's balls in his palm and gently rolling them around.
Steve doesn't stand a chance against Tony's sensual assault.
His pace picks up. His fingers settle back on Tony's hips, tight and possessive.
Tony loves it. He loves this so much. Steve is pounding into him by now, thrusts coming faster and sharper than before, and it is as if he's forgotten his own strength.
"Yes," Tony whispers and arches his spine invitingly. "Yes, Steve..."
Steve makes a brief, high-pitched noise and reaches for Tony's dick. His fingers grip just a little bit too tight to be absolutely comfortable, rasp just a little too dryly against Tony's skin, but Tony still arches into every single touch like a starving man.
Under Steve's ministrations, he doesn't take that long to come, his muscles contracting around Steve and squeezing until Steve gives a gasped moan and begins fucking him harder, chasing his own orgasm.
Tony is flying high on endorphins and love, but he still grimaces when Steve slowly and carefully pulls out and Tony's muscles protest. He will feel this in the morning, but he's almost looking forward to it.
Steve collapses next to him, a wet washcloth in his hand, and cleans him up before he curls a possessive hand around Tony's middle.
"That was great," he slurs, his eyes half-closed, but he's smiling that quietly happy smile of his that he kept hidden for so long, until Tony coaxed it out of him.
"Yeah, it was," he replies and grins.
Steve just pulls him closer. "Don't think I don't know what you just did," he murmurs, his lips almost brushing the shell of Tony's ear.
"What did I do?" Tony asks back and adopts an air of innocence. It's hard to keep it up though when Steve is doing his best to wrap his entire body around Tony.
Steve doesn't answer immediately, and Tony floats in a haze of satisfaction and love.
"You pushed me," Steve finally says. "To give you more before you were ready for it."
Tony spends a long moment coming up with justifications, reasons why he'd done what he'd done, excuses and deflections, but before he can open his mouth and use any of them, Steve sighs and pulls the sheets up over them.
"I know you love it," he says, "when I'm a little rough, like I don't know my own strength." He brushes his fingertips over Tony's skin, gentle and careful and considerate.
"I do," Tony admits. There's no reason to lie about it.
"Me too," Steve replies. "But next time, can we do it a little bit more...sweet?"
Tony laughs. "Of course we can."