MCU (c) Marvel Studios

Come cover me with you, for the thrill till you will take me in. Come comfort me in you, young love must live twice only for us. For me, for you — time devours passion's beauty! With me, with you in war for the love of you. — Nightwish

Steve's sudden confession had spoiled her own, and then his chivalry had spoiled her plot of making love to him in the shower. She couldn't believe how awkward he was being about this. She was laying in his bed — naked — and he still had his boxers and t-shirt on and was staring at the ceiling. She definitely did not imagine this going in the direction it had. "Steve." She rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand, he gave a little hum as he looked at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He didn't look at her. "Why do you ask."

"Because you refuse to look at me, for starters." She narrowed her eyes at him. The sun was starting to set, the golden orange light made his hair and beard brighter. It drew her to him, as if he was an angel descended from Heaven. She shuddered, watching as he swallowed. It was too tempting, and she leaned over — nonchalant — and kissed his neck. He gasped in surprise.

"Natasha?" he kept his eyes glued to her face. She gave him her best seductress smile, her eyes hooded and a hand snaked its way up his stomach, pushing his shirt up as it went. He felt like how she imagined him: warm, firm and strong. "Wh-What are you doing?" he asked, his voice catching in his throat.

"Have you ever been with a woman?" she purred, allowing her Russian accent to appear. She found that men seem to find a Russian accent erotic and she had a few people tell her it made her voice huskier.

Even in the gloaming she could see his blush as he looked away, gulping audibly. "N-No. I haven't." He refused to meet her eyes. "I've… I've been waiting f-for marriage." Ever the gentleman, he removed her hand from his chest and gently pushed it back to her, careful to not touch her breast. "I'm sorry."

"Oh." She felt a sudden wave of guilt. She loved Steve so much and this was going to be his first time. She had too many previous partners. She felt bad that she couldn't have the same thrill of first love with him. "I—"

"I know," he said. She nodded and leaned over to kiss him. "I'm almost a hundred years old and I've never made love to a woman." He grinned, though she could tell his ears were still pink. "Oldest virgin in history."

She laughed. "Maybe." This wasn't how she was hoping it was going to go and realizing that she'll have to convince him to break something he clearly felt was of great moral importance. "Steve, make love to me."

"What? But we aren't married!" He sat up, looking at her only to look away when he realized she was still naked (though he did stare for a heartbeat too long at her breasts). "God frowns upon sexual relations outside of marriage. I can't… it would be immoral and improper."

She slid her hand along his jaw and cupped his cheek, turning his head so he could look at her. The kiss was sweet and tender, full of love and a hint of desire. He chased her lips when she pulled away. "I don't want to spend my life with anyone but you." She kissed him again, his hands finding her hips.

"Natasha," he whispered against her lips, his blue eyes half-lidded. Kissing him, she slipped a leg over his lap and seated herself comfortably there. "Natasha, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to seduce you," she said as she pressed kisses to his throat and pressing her breasts against his chest and ground her hips against him. He groaned at that and she sucked on his neck, nipping it. She wondered if a hickey will show up the next day or if his super soldier serum would have it healed before the dawn. "Is it working?"

"Uh-huh." He swallowed thickly and looked at her. "Natasha, I'm…"

"Say no and I'll stop," she said, watching the two desires war within him, he looked away.

"No."

She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding "Alright," she said, trying to keep the hurt from her voice as she got off his lap. She crawled over to the edge of the bed and pulled on her panties and tank top. She slipped out of bed.

"Natasha, wait," he said, throwing the covers off. His hand on her arm made her stop and turn. "It's not that I don't love you," he said, licking his lips, "because I do. I do love you, I'm… madly in love with you."

"But?" Both of her brows shot up as she gave him an expecting look.

"But… I… I'll feel more comfortable if we… went out a few times before we… uh… make whoopee." He stared at his feet, and his entire head and neck was crimson. She wrinkled her nose.

"Pardon?"

"What did Sam say… uh…" he put his hands on his hips, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Before we Netflix and chill."

"Oh," she said, eyes going wide as she giggled a little bit. "I hate to break it to you Steve, but… I doubt there are any 40s theme dance halls in Wakanda, and we can't exactly go off to Rome or Paris."

"I know, I know," he said. "But—"

"But," she drawled, "We've know each other long enough that I'm sure we can skip the traditional courtship and get right to the fun part." She closed the gap between them. "I understand where you're coming from Steve, but like I just said: we've known each other since you've came out of the ice. Dating allows a couple to get to know each other prior to sex, but we've hung out and done all that get to know each other." She rested her hands against his chest. "We fought aliens and killer robots together. You know what they say."

"I do?"

"The couple that slays together, stays together." She grinned at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. He snorted in amusement, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yes, but—"

"So, is there something else making you uncomfortable with the idea of us making whoopee?" She grinned when he blushed. "You said you wanted someone with shared life experiences."

"I remember," he said as she closed the gap further; their toes were touching. "It's just… I…"

She nodded, her smile fracturing when she realized what was wrong. She let out a sigh, going to the window, and wrapped her arms around herself. Of course, she should have realized that was what he'd be worried about: an unplanned pregnancy. A man like Steve would want children and his gentlemanly nature would worry about unplanned pregnancies. "You don't have to worry about that?"

"I don't?" he frowned, confused. "Because I do, Nat. I told you before I'm always honest, and I mean it when I say I l—"

"No," she cut him off, not comprehending his tirade, "the Red Room took care of that," she said, unable to hide the bitterness in her tone. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Going to visit Clint and his family, seeing his children and knowing she could never had her own children. She contented herself with being their Auntie Natasha, but it wasn't the same. The joy that Laura had on her face and the way Clint spoke of his children… she wanted that. The Red Room denied motherhood to her. It was the one thing she could relate to Bruce about: the inability to have children (even though he had the gall to imply that it made them both monstrous somehow).

"Nat, what are you talking about?" Steve asked.

She wrinkled her nose, confused. It was clear that had a disconnect about his hesitancy. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

He licked his lips, unable to meet her eyes for some reason. He let out a quick breath. "Nothing, Nat. It's nothing." He forced a smile; she could tell it didn't reach his eyes. She gave a beady stare but didn't press him, turning to look at the window again. "I'm just… well, old fashioned" he went on, "I know we know each other, but I was always taught sex after marriage and that love and sex go hand in hand—"

She spun around, eyes widen. "Are you suggesting—"

"No," he said, pulling her into a hug. "No, I'm not suggesting that. I'm just… it feels like everything we do is—"

"Ass backwards?"

"I would say language, but I have a feeling you'll step on my foot, so I'll let it slide."

"Oh, you've sworn before, don't deny it," she teased, poking him in the stomach. He squirmed. She grinned, filing the information away for later use. "And we haven't skipped any steps, we just are doing them in our own order."

"I know," he said, a smile on his face as he kissed her brow. "But now I want to know what's wrong. What did the Red Room take care of?" She buried her face in his chest, sighing as he stroked her hair. "Nat."

"I can't have a baby."

"I'm not ready to be a father either, but—"

"No." She looked up at him, the pain and frustration clear on her face. She would give him anything, she wanted to give him everything. A family, a home, the American dream. She pulled free from his arms, her hands clenching and unclenching, trying to find something to either hold onto or punch. "You don't get it, Steve" — she blinked, keeping the tears at bay — "I physically can't get pregnant."

"Oh Natasha." He pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and she didn't know what hurt worst; the sympathy in his tone or the fact he let her cry into his chest as he ran a hand through her hair. "I'm so sorry," he said, "if it makes you feel better I'm not sure if I'm capable of having children, either."

She pulled back, his hands lacing together at the small of her back. "Are you serious?" she asked, baffled. He nodded. "How can you be… incapable of having children?"

"Well… the soldier serum… improved a lot but nobody told me if it would affect my ability to… have children." He gave a small shrug. "At the time, I never thought I'd be a father so, I never asked but… now that you —" He bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," she said, realizing he was trying to empathize with her. "Thank you." She leaned back, and he let her go. She took his hand and tugged him back towards the bed. "Are you nervous because you're a virgin?" She gave him a small smile. "We don't have to if you don't want to Steve. I'm not going to force you into something your uncomfortable with."

"No, it's fine. I want his," he said tugging her to a stop, only to the pulse point on her wrist, his nose nuzzling the spot. "Yes, I'm nervous. Nat… I'm not sure what to do. I… I never—"

"Have you ever watched porn?"

"Does looking at pine-ups count?"

"Depends." She looked at him. "Have you masturbated?"

"I had a nun tell me masturbation was a sin and it'll make my hand fall of," he admitted. She snorted, biting back a laugh. "I did have a dream about Peggy once, during the war… I woke up and well… I was—"

"Standing at attention?" Grinning when he nodded, his ears pink. "And?"

"Well my hand didn't fall off!" he waved his hand at her, a goofy grin on his face. She chuckled.

"Okay, so you aren't completely green. You at least know what feels good for you," she said, and gave his hand another tugged as she guided him back to bed. It was disappointing the sun had set, she was hoping to make love to him in the golden light. The moonlight flittering through the trees will have to do; at least the moonlight brought out his eyes and washed out his blush.

He crawled into bed as she undressed again, before straddling his hips. She wiggled, until she was comfortable on his lap. She rubbed his biceps. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you and my vagina doesn't have sharp teeth that'll bite your penis off."

"I wasn't—"

"It's apparently what a succubus has between her legs, a fanged vagina," she said, giving a little shrug. "Since this is your first time, we'll take things slow."

"How many men have you been wit?"

"Men." She chortled. "I've been with men and women. If a job required me to seduce someone, I had to. Part of the reason they took… they did what they did to me."

"And I'm so—"

"Ah-ah," she cooed pressing a finger against his lips. "No more apologizing. For the moment we'll just focus on us." She smiled, tracing his lip. "We'll start with something easy, kissing and touching."

"I can… you'll let me touch you?"

"I want your hands to explore my body. Imagine you're a blind man — you can close your eyes if you want — and your hands need to map out my body. Listen to my voice, trust yourself. I'll let you know what I like and what I don't." She ran her fingers through his beard, smiling at the little shudder that passed through him. "If you want to stop, just say no and we can stop."

"And if I don't?" he murmured, as he leaned forward to kiss her neck. She gasped, arching up to meet him.

"Then don't say anything," she forced the words out. His hand began to roam, shyly at first, but as she gasped and sighed, his confidence grew, and he got bolder. They stopped beneath her breasts.

"Nat—"

"Go on," she whispered, "map my body, my entire body." He nodded and kissed her as his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs gracing her nipples. She gasped into the kiss, moaning as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He squeezed her breasts gently. "Steve," she said, voice husky.

"You're beautiful," he said, admiring her skin, milk white in the moonlight; he traced the scars he found and gave them little kisses. She never had anyone admire her scars before, she found it endearing. She smiled as his thumb trace small circles over the clover. He pressed kisses to her neck and collarbone, outlining her breasts with searing kisses and she gasped as his lips fell over her nipple. The roughness of his beard contrast with the hot wetness of his tongue.

"Oh." She held his head in place, eyes wanting to roll back into her skull. His hands ran down her hips and over her thighs, teasing the tangle of curls between her legs. He shifted to her other breast and a shuddering gasp escaped her throat. "G-Go on," she muttered as she swallowed a moan. His fingers delved between her legs, shyly. She mewed as he touched her, her vocalizations encouraging him. "Fuck." It slipped out when his thumb pressed against her nub.

He pulled away from her breast. "Language," he teased and kissed her and continued to touch her. She kissed his neck as she bucked her hips, hoping he got the message. He did, and she groaned, biting his neck when he slipped a finger into her. "Ow, Nat."

She lifted her hips up to give him more room to maneuver his hand. "S-Sorry," she breathed, kissing the spot she bit, sucking a little bit to sooth it. "I won't bite."

"Thank you," he said and resumed fingering. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling and kissing his neck as he teased her folds, thrusting one finger and then two in and out of her, his thumb rubbing along her nub. She moaned, gasping, hips rocking against his hand, the pressure was building, she couldn't think clearly, all she wanted was to reach that rapturous high. "Steve… Steve, I—" she moaned, a jumble of English and Russian tumbling from her lips, her body shuddering. She sat back, a blissful expression on her face. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, long and slow and tender. "Not bad old man."

He grinned. "Well…" he pulled his hand away, making a slight face at the goo. She grabbed his hand before he could wipe it on the bed and licked his fingers. She smirked, a naughty look in her eyes and her lips slowly enveloped his fingers, coated in her essence. She could tell by the look that he was more turned on than disgusted. She settled herself on his lap and gave a wicked good smirk.

"Pants tight?" she asked, grinding against his erection and the way his mouth opened and he groaned, melting at the sensation was enough of an answer. "Take that as a yes," she said and slipped her hands beneath his shirt. He was all too willing to remove his chest. "Mmmm." She gave an appreciative hum as she kissed his chest, trailing her tongue around his pecs and shoulders, along his collarbone; her hips rotated steadily, and she gave a cute squeak when he bucked up. "Down boy."

"Natasha," he growled. It sent a shiver down her spine in a good way. He bucked again, and she giggled. "Please."

"Since you asked nicely," she teased, winking at him and helping him to shuck his boxers. He sprung to attention, his cock thick and firm in her hand. He moaned as she ran her hand up and down his length. "Lay back," she said. He did so, wiggling his shoulders to smooth out the pillows. "Relax, don't rush."

"I… I… okay," he nodded, she smiled and lifted herself up, grasping his cock in one hand and bracing herself on his stomach with the other. She teased his tip at her entrance, he bit his lip so hard she was afraid he'd start bleeding. She allowed the tip to ease into her as she brought herself lower.

"Oh damn," she gasped as her walls stretched to accommodate his girth. He was big — probably the biggest she ever had, well Bucky was enhanced too — and it felt good. She sank all the way down.

"Dear God," Steve groaned, eyes rolling back into his head. "Natasha… oh, Natasha." He gasped, his chest rising and falling beneath her palm as he gulped great lungfuls of air. "Fuck."

"Language," she said, teasing and laughing when he glared at her. He threaded his hand at the back of her head, pulling her down for a kiss. She hummed and realized how much she enjoyed hearing her name tumble from his lips. She rolled her hips and he groaned, his hands grabbing her thighs. She couldn't help but laugh at his expression a little, of all the virginal men (the list was a grand total of two, Steve made three), he was the most expressive. "Feel good Rogers? Think you can make it?"

"Don't," he said, tweaking the short hairs at the base of her skull, chest rising and falling as he resisted the primal urge to buck. "Don't call me Rogers again. Not now, not ever." His hand fell to her shoulder and he gave it a squeeze, eyes closing as he savored being inside her. "Just call me, Steve." His voice was soft.

She swallowed, the understanding of his request settling over her like a blanket, she licked her lips. "Okay, Steve." She blinked. "You ready?" she asked, tracing a pattern with her nail along his chest. He swallowed, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, a bright watery blue in the moonlight. It was the love that made them shown… love coupled with lust. He nodded. She grinned and rolled her hips again, setting the pace. He grunted as he thrust up into her, following her lead, his hands comfortable on her hips. They moved in sync and she leaned over him to kiss him, his beard scratchy and ticklish against her skin.

"Natasha," he breathed against her ear and it was the only warning she had before he rolled them over, the bed was soft and formed to her body. He had that boyish grin on his face and he hiked up her legs; she could tell he was going off of instinct now, and the deeper angle as he thrust into her coaxed a deep throaty moan from her mouth. He kissed her after her, muffling the next one.

She clawed at his back, knowing that her marks would be gone in the morning. She never wanted this feeling to end. It was divine. "Steve," she panted into his ear and he kissed her cheek. The pressure was building up again in her stomach, she was close. He began to pick up his pace, starting to become frantic.

"Nat… I'm… I'm close," he said between panting breaths. She nodded, watching his face.

"Me too."

"I want—" she cut him off with a kiss, his lips muffled her whimpering cry of bliss as she came and a few moments later he came too, spilling his hot seed into her broken womb. She laid there, watching him hold himself until the shudders had passed before pulling out and spooning her. He kissed her shoulder. "Nat…"

"Good first time?"

"Did… was I terrible?" he mumbled against her nape. She laughed, a light airy sound. He was cute when he was self-conscious. She twisted a bit and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"No," she said, "no you weren't terrible. You were wonderful," she said and snuggled against him.

"Mm, don't move too much," he said, his lips brushing her neck. She arched a brow, it was an odd request.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, I… I don't know how long… I don't want to get hard again."

"You—" she stopped. A normal man needed time to recover after sex, but Steve had super soldier serum and she doubted they tested his sexual prowess after the procedure was completed. "Right." She pillowed her head against his bicep. "While I'm awake, I won't move, but I can make no promises once I'm asleep."

"Fair," he said, nuzzling her shoulder. "We can do it tomorrow if you want. Show me what else you like."

"Mm." She gave a little hum, imaging his head between her thighs, his beard tickling her legs as his tongue dipped in and out of her. "Okay," she said, resting her hand in his, smiling as he laced their fingers together. "Steve?"

"Mm?" he opened his eyes again. "Nat?"

"N-Nothing," she said and then flipped over, he grumbled as her hands pressed against his chest. "Actually, there is something."

"Nat, I'm sleepy," he protested as she tweaked his beard gently until his eyes opened.

"Lisichka," she said.

"Huh?"

"I want you to call me lisichka," she said, "it means little fox in Russian. It's a pet name."

"You want me to call you lisp-chika?" he frowned. "Nat, I can't even say that."

She laughed at that and snuggled closer to him. The bed was soft, he was warm; she was content and felt her eyes droop. "No, lisichka," she said slower.

"Nat, I can't say that," he sighed, pulling her closer. "It doesn't feel right. If I'm going to call you something, I want it to be special to me. Not a name you tell me to call you."

"Yes, but—" Bucky calls me that and I like it. "You're right," she said. "What are you going to call me then?"

The silence was comfortable, ebbing and flowing like the tide as he thought about what he was going to call her. He smiled after a moment. "Darling," he said instead, nuzzling her cheek. "My darling Natalia."

A small thrill went up her spine when he said her birth name. "Steve." She liked the way darling rolled off his tongue, it made her feel… special, treasured even.

He sighed. "Darling." He kissed her nape. She twisted her chest a bit, catching his lips with hers. They kissed again, savoring the feel of each other's lips. "My darling."

"Yes," she agreed. "I'm yours now and forever."

Changed the title and the song, fits better.

Well… I tried doing something different earlier, but it just didn't feel right, so you guys better be grateful! I was going to make you wait another chapter for this stuff. I hate writing sex scenes. They are so bloody awkward.

Also, for those that may not have picked up on it, the secret Nat told Steve before she left was her birth name.

I have no idea what's going to happen next though. :/

Save an author; leave a review (and suggestions!)

Nemo et Nihil