This chapter is solely Steggy smut - I'm adding Chapter 15 today as well, for those who don't want smut.

Steve's hand tightened momentarily on her hip, and then he was lifting her effortlessly from the dresser, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

Heat shot through her, heat that should not have been caused by this casual display of strength, because a lifetime of fighting to prove herself should have made her immune to the so-called charms of strong men, but there was strength in it for her as well, knowing that his man could lift her like she weighed less than a feather, and tear metal with his bare hands, and yet looked at her even now as though she hung the moon.

Her eyes fluttered shut, relishing the feel of him, warm and solid against her.

It took her back hitting the mattress before she realised she was no longer vertical, and she opened her eyes to see Steve hovering over her, his arms braced either side of her torso, like he was halfway through a push-up.

For a moment, she was transported back to Camp Leigh, watching then-Private Rogers struggling to hold the same pose; the image caused a soft smile to cross her face and she reached up to brush his hair back from his face. "Okay?"

"Okay," he answered softly. "I trust you."

Her smile grew.

When he wanted to be, Steve was excellent at following directions; she filed that thought away to examine later.

"Good. And I trust you. You want to come down here?"

Steve hesitated, and she was just about to give him a way out, when he said, "I don't want to hurt you."

Peggy would have taken that as a contradiction of his earlier words, that he didn't trust her to make the lines clear, except his concern was well-founded. The serum didn't change her body, but it did his and, for any normal woman, it could - and would - be something to think about.

But Peggy - for all she loathed the phrase - was not a normal woman.

"Darling, I'm reinforced as well," she said gently. "Trust, remember? I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want you to." Her smile became predatory. "More than one way to dance, soldier - and you did promise me a dance."

His answering grin was just as filthy, and she eagerly welcomed his kiss as he lowered himself, every hard line of his body pressing deliciously against hers.

She gasped into his mouth ad her body arched against him without any prompting. His moan was muffled against her, and he tore his lips from hers, breathing heavily. "Peggy …"

"I know we should wait," she whispered, her fingers digging into his shoulders, "until it's not adrenaline and seventy years of absence driving us, but I don't want to. If we keep waiting for the right moment, it'll never happen. So we can do this properly later - dinner, dancing, sweet, slow, everything it should've been after the war, but right now I need you, Steve. If you're not ready, if you don't want this, then dear God tell me now and we can stop, but if you do …"

The rest of her sentence was lost in some kind of breathy moan when his hand brushed against the front of her chest.

Steve gave her a deceptively innocent smile. "This okay then?"

"You …" Peggy said, squirming against him. "The innocent act is fooling no one, Captain."

"Just making sure," Steve said, slipping his hand under her tank top to rest of the soft skin of her stomach. "I was always told to make damn sure I had explicit consent before I started taking a dame's clothes off."

Peggy would have corrected his wording, but she had a feeling she knew where that advice had come from, and it was a fresh wound. Besides, now it was no longer in the common vernacular, his Brooklyn slang was rather endearing.

"You want explicit?" She asked. "You have my explicit consent to touch any and every single part of my body, and you can start by moving that hand a bit higher."

"This one?" Steve asked, the hand on the mattress beside her shifting up a few inches.

Peggy smiled sweetly, which should have been incentive enough on its own. "Darling, I love you. But you know full well what I meant; don't make me take things into my own hands again."

The tips of Steve's ears turned a little pink, but his eyes darkened; her words appeared to alleviate any doubts or concerns he may have had, and the hand on her stomach slid over her skin to cup her breast, his fingers teasing the pebbled nipple experimentally.

"Still no idea what I'm doing," Steve warned, brushing kisses against her jawline.

"You're doing wonderfully," Peggy managed to say, propping herself up on her elbows to pull her top over her head.

It landed somewhere in the direction of the door, but she was far too focused on the pure devotion that crossed Steve's face when he looked at her.

It filled a hole in her heart that she had almost forgotten was empty, and she tugged his mouth down to hers, trying to fight off the sob that bubbled up within her.

"Alright?" He murmured.

"I missed you," she whispered, the words helping soothe the lump in her throat, but catching all the same. "I missed you so much."

"'M right here." His voice vibrated against her skin as his kisses travelled down the side of her neck. "Not goin' anywhere unless you shoot me again. Even then, I might need a bit more convincing."

The reminder caused the ache to loosen and turn to laughter. "At you, darling; I shot at … Oh, God, do that again!"

Steve smiled against her breast, his lips fastening more firmly around the nipple he had been otherwise neglecting, his tongue flicking against her skin.

A whimper tore from her throat, her hands tugging at his shirt. "Off."

"Me?" Steve asked, lifting his head. "Are you sure? You seem to be enjoying it."

They hadn't had a word for 'troll' in the forties, Peggy didn't think; at least, not the modern definition. If they had, she might have remembered that Steve Rogers was the world's biggest.

"Rogers, I swear to God …"

Maybe he was just enjoying making her lose her composure - it was almost certainly the first time he'd seen her so undone (the shooting incident notwithstanding).

But he had clearly forgotten that her strength more or less matched his these days.

Even if it didn't, she had plenty of practice using her centre of gravity against heavier opponents. And the bed was large enough for her to twist her hips, hook one leg over his thigh, and flip them so she straddled him.

The problem with him being a head taller than her was that, in order for him to kiss her, they hadn't been quite aligned - not that the muscles of his stomach didn't make for a very nice platform to grind against.

But here, like this, her core settled directly over his erection, the friction sending another frisson of heat through her, and she took a moment to rock against him - just to make sure she had his attention (of course). "Take off your shirt," she repeated, more succinctly.

"Yes ma'am," Steve said, his voice pained.

This time, she didn't care where it landed, because she was too busy finally (finally!) exploring every slope and valley of the magnificent chest before her.

Steve's body before the serum had not, admittedly, been much to look at, but she had loved him enough that it didn't matter, and there were a few traits that had carried over into this body that she was very grateful for - his hands, his smile, his eyes, to name a few.

But when he had emerged from that chamber, sweat glistening on every perfectly formed muscle …

The nurse beside Peggy had nearly collapsed, her legs buckling beneath her; the nurse that had appeared with a larger shirt promptly hid it; and Peggy herself had to draw on every inch of her self-restraint not to jump the man.

Of course the events that followed certainly put a dampener on her lust, but realising that her Steve was still in there, that the process hadn't altered the heart and mind she had fallen for, had fired it right back up again.

(It hadn't taken long after she locked the door of her quarters that night, before she was screaming his name into her pillow, three fingers buried inside her.)

But this was the first time she'd had free reign to just touch, to take her time, her lips mapping out his skin until she knew it as well as she knew her own.

When she reached the waistband of his sweatpants, his hands clamped down on her wrists. "Wait."

Peggy stopped, looking up at him, trying to read his expression. His eyes were sightly glazed over, but there was nothing but lust and want hidden in their depths.

"Do we have protection?" He asked.

Peggy almost laughed, before she actually considered the question. "I have an IUD," she said slowly. "It's … too complicated to explain right at this second, but …" she trailed off, counting in her head.

Technically, the implant made her temporarily infertile - it was standard issue for female field agents - but still …

"Did we ever test if the serum enhanced fertility?"

That got him blushing, and she smiled. "I'll take that as a no." She sighed. "Better not risk it. Unless there's some in here …"

Steve made a strangled noise beneath her as she reached across to root around in the nightstand. There were some magazines, a couple of crossword puzzle books, a phone charger, breath-mints … In short, she had been supplied with everything she might need.

Except condoms.

She wasn't surprised. She doubted Tony wanted to even consider the possibility that his godmother might have sex.

She could ask JARVIS if there were any available, but she would probably end up knocking on Tony's door to borrow some - and that would almost definitely kill the mood.

She would have run down and asked Natasha - except she knew that she and Clint didn't use condoms (which was a strange thing to know about two people who were like her children, but that was the way her life worked).

Peggy sat back, shifting her weight back towards his thighs. "Looks like we'll have to wait, Captain. This is hardly a good time if my implant decides that the serum's too much for it."

"No, it isn't," Steve agreed, trying to regulate his breathing. He was still hard against her, and her stomach clenched pleasantly.

Her hands began to tug at his waistband again.

"I thought …"

"There are other things we can do, Steve," Peggy said, her breath catching when his cock sprang free, curving up towards his stomach. "Did this grow proportionally or …?"

"Not by very much," Steve said, gasping as she ran a hand down his length. "You don't have to …"

Peggy looked up at him from hooded eyes as she lowered her head. "I never did give you a proper examination, Captain; let me have my fun."

She'd had mixed reviews on this particular activity in the past from the women she knew. Some hated it and refused to do it, full stop. Some hated it, but did it anyway, on the off-chance that he would return the favour (and usually complained that it wasn't worth it). Some thoroughly enjoyed it.

Natasha had once confided in her that she didn't generally enjoy it (or hadn't before Clint, something else Peggy tried not to think about), but that it was an excellent way of rendering a man powerless.

At the time, Peggy had been a little bewildered as to how an act so often painted as subservient could do that, but now she understood.

He was hard and hot in her hand, steel wrapped in velvet, and, went her lips closed over the tip, sliding down towards his body, a choked moan ripped through the air.

There was something about making Steve tremble beneath her that made her want him even more, and she had to fight to remind herself why tearing her sweat pants off and taking him inside her was a bad idea right now, despite the way her centre throbbed at the thought.

She drew her lips back up his length, revelling in the way he gasped her name, her hand working him where her mouth could not.

His hands fluttered near her head before grasping the bedsheets tightly, and she rewarded his restraint by taking him all the way in her mouth again.

Her eyes flickered up to watch him as he fought to control himself, a satisfied smirk touching her lips as she released him.

"Talk to me, darling," she murmured, stroking him lazily. "I've never done this before."

"Coulda fooled me," Steve groaned, bucking into her hand.

Peggy leaned up to kiss him, and he responded eagerly, licking into her mouth, causing heat to pool in her belly at the thought of that tongue somewhere else on her body.

First, though, she wanted to watch Steve fall apart.

Using his responses to guide her, she allowed herself to explore his body, experimenting with the tightness of her grip and the flicks of her wrist, until his entire body shuddered and his release spilled over her hands.

Feeling rather smug watching him try to recover, Peggy slipped out of bed and retrieved a cloth from the bathroom, absently licking her fingers clean (the taste wasn't as unpleasant as she had expected).

By the time she returned, he had caught his breath, and he took her in his arms again as soon as she reached him. He had readjusted his sweatpants, although his shirt remained whether it had been thrown, and the cloth was soon abandoned as well as he kissed his way down her naked chest, his large hands caressing her breasts and stomach with such tenderness that her skin seemed to tingle and burn wherever he touched her.

He murmured something against her stomach, and she fought her way out of a haze of pleasure to understand it.

"May I?"

One finger slid beneath the band of her sweatpants, running along the crease of her hip, not daring any further, and she lifted her hips, pushing at them herself. "Please …"

"You are so beautiful," Steve said in a hushed voice, helping her pull them down her legs. "Have I ever told you that?"

"You mentioned it earlier," Peggy said, kicking the off and arching against him again when his hand brushed against her lower stomach, just north of where she really wanted it. "But no."

"It always felt inappropriate," Steve admitted, his hand settling on her hip. "You're an amazing soldier with a brilliant mind and … It felt wrong to reduce you to that."

Peggy touched his face, falling a little more in love with him. "Thank you, darling. But you have always been an exception."

Steve looked up at her with an almost shy smile. "You're the most gorgeous woman I ever laid eyes on. You scared the crap outta me back then."

Peggy laughed quietly. "I had noticed, Steve. It was rather endearing. Now I don't mean to sound impatient, but I really need you to …"

Once again, her words were stolen from her by an involuntary gasp for breath, when his fingers dipped into her, brushing against her clit.

They withdrew almost immediately, perhaps in concern over her reaction, but her hand snapped to his wrist, holding it in place. "Good noise. Do that again."

With a little more confidence, Steve began to explore her again, leaning down to pepper kisses across her thighs, pausing to nuzzle a scar left over from a few days previously.

In a few more days, it would be gone entirely. "Knife?"

Peggy hummed in agreement, her hips undulating against his hand. "Tell you all about it … some time … more … now …"

Two fingers slipped inside her and a moan escaped her, encouraging him to move faster, her fingers weaving into his hair and gently tugging him to where she wanted him.

His lips were tentative at first, but no one could say Steve wasn't a quick learner; this was no exception, guided as he was by her sighs and moans, and - finally - she shattered with his name on her lips.

For a few moments, they lay still, his head resting on her thigh, the only noise her heavy breathing, but soon enough, she tugged on his hand, coaxing him back up to lie beside her so she could curl into his chest.

"Okay?" He murmured, his lips brushing her forehead.

"Very okay," she said, swallowing a yawn. "Once everyone's sorted tomorrow, we're going home, finding a bed, and not leaving it for a week.

Steve tilted her face up to kiss her, and she sank into it for a few moments, tasting herself as well as him. "Deal. But … I think SHIELD bugged my apartment."

Peggy rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't have put it past them. I didn't mean that place, Steve - that's not home. I have a place in Brooklyn, and it's definitely not bugged."

Steve stroked her hair absently. "I haven't been back to Brooklyn yet."

"I'm on the outskirts," Peggy told him. "Almost definitely not where you used to live. We can take the long way, if you'd like."

He shook his head. "I need to face it some time. I'd rather do it with you."

"It's not all different," Peggy murmured. "There are some places that just got handed down through families. Although I'm not sure if that's more or less depressing."

Steve pressed another kiss into her hair. "We'll figure it out tomorrow. Go to sleep."

It was excellent advice. And so, finally in his arms, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heart, she did.