DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE.
The rating of this story has CHANGED from T to M now, due to sexual content. Please bare this warning in mind if you decide to continue reading.
~0~0~0~0~0~
The silence on the way back to the facility had been unbearable indeed, but Natasha certainly was not prepared for what was waiting for them.
When they had left, Tony Stark had been bed-bound, barely able to breathe on his own let alone get up. But, he had been waiting for them, arms folded over his chest, arc reactor shining like a beacon, and a look of rage plastered all over that playboy face of his.
Instead of feeling dread at the approaching storm of temper, Natasha welcomed it. She allowed it to fuel through her veins like wildfire, to block out the horror of what they had discovered. What she needed was a distraction, and sinking her teeth into Tony Stark was certainly one that she wasn't about to turn down.
Her husband, on the other hand, of course went for the civil approach first. "How are you feeling, Tony?" It was a wonder to all of them that the billionaire was on his feet, without needing a drip or the wheelchair being in arms reach. Natasha was sure it had something to do with the reactor, and remembered Pepper once making a comment about it acting like a heart. She had no idea how long they had been gone for, but in that period of time, Tony seemed to have recharged.
Now, he looked ready to pick a fight, and if that's what he wanted, he'd have it.
Tony snorted. "Let me guess, empty handed?"
Bristling at his tone, Natasha shot him a glare. "Think this through, Tony, before you continue speaking."
His dark eyes rounded on her. "I feel like I am the only one thinking this through, Romanoff."
Irritation surged through her at the fact that Tony had said her former last name in disregard to her marriage to Steve. Although she and her husband had already agreed that on the field, it made sense for her to be addressed as Romanoff still, to save any confusion, she knew full well that Tony had done it on purpose to get a rise out of her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve's jaw lock as he too came to that realisation.
Tony continued, "When will the two of you ever learn that when something is done, it's done? There's no fixing, no changing. No hope. You cannot change what has happened, and going off on a mission that could have quite easily gotten you all killed was the most foolish thing I have ever heard. Actually, almost the most foolish. You've both done some questionable things over the years."
A growl rippled from her, echoed by Steve.
Outside, Rocket and Nebula clearly decided to stay with their ship. Getting involved in this was none of their business, and they certainly knew better than to get in the middle. Rhodey was hovering in the doorway, where Pepper stood with her arms folded around herself. She looked ready to drop from exhaustion, but her worry for Tony kept her exactly where she was. Thor was nowhere to be seen, and even Banner was staying away.
This was between Tony, Steve and Natasha, and had been brewing for a long, long time.
"At least we're trying," Steve's words came out in a low rumble, as a warning to Tony that he still had a chance to turn away and leave without forever ruining any form of relationship the three of them shared. A relationship that had become strained over the years, and now was at breaking point.
"Oh, yeah, and how did that work out for you?" Tony spat. "Let me guess, the stones are gone? He destroyed them. Did you really not link that first spike of power to the second? Or did you all just fancy placing spaceships and wasting your time?"
Natasha's arms crossed in front of her chest, her entire body tight as she tried to keep a leash on her temper. With every word that came out of Tony's mouth, however, that leash was loosening. "Watch yourself, Stark."
"Or what?" Tony's entire body was shaking, but not from tiredness. Anger. "You turned your back on me once, so I'm not that surprised you went off whether your lovely husband decided to go without thinking it through."
"Stop talking, Tony, before this ends in a way we'll all regret." Steve had never sounded so...dangerous before. Natasha ignored the effect it had on her, simply because as angry as she was, she didn't want this to go the way it was headed.
"As if it could possibly get any worse?" Tony snorted, shaking his head in utter disbelief. "The Great Captain America, how does failure taste? Bitter, right?"
Despite common sense reminding her of the times she had fought alongside this man, Natasha felt nothing but cold rage at the accusation in Tony's tone, in the anger and hatred he directed at her husband. "Get out."
Tony didn't move an inch. "Are you forgetting who owns this compound, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart. The word was another insult, another taunt at her and Steve's entire relationship. A word that had always had her smiling, or rolling her eyes whilst she giggled, or had warmth spread through her entire body, now just made her stiffen completely.
Steve took another step forward, his eyes dark. "You don't want to do this, Tony." Another warning. The muscles of Steve's shoulders were tense, ready.
"What? You're going to beat me into a bulb because I don't blindly follow your lead? Because I call you out when you're wrong? You were wrong to hide what you did from me, and you were wrong to even entertain this impossible plan of retrieving the stones. You were wrong to make people believe that even for a second, there was hope. It's over, Cap." Tony glowered up at him, unflinching. "What was it that Ultron said to you all those years ago? You can't live without a war."
Although Steve didn't move an inch, Natasha knew the impact that those words would have on him. Her blood turned to ice.
But, Tony didn't back down. A fool, through and through, but perhaps also, someone who really didn't care anymore. "Let it go, Steve. It's over." He turned, heading for the door. When he reached the doorway, he paused, and didn't look over his shoulder as he said, "Whilst you two were off gallivanting through space, I contacted my lawyers. This facility is in Natasha's name now. I want nothing to do with it, with either of you. It is yours, on one condition."
Silence greeted him.
Natasha's hands clenched into tight fists. The facility. That was his bargaining chip. He knew they'd been on the run for years, and with Nick Fury gone, they would start to run out of safehouses and more importantly, access to information. The equipment here was extensive, and the most advanced, courtesy of the genius man in that doorway. But, to take it seemed like a sour wound; Tony wanted them to accept that it was all over.
"Name it." Steve's words could cut through vibranium.
At that, Tony turned to look at them both. There was nothing familiar about his gaze; no warmth, none of that cocky-confidence, no teasing glint that warned them of a sarcastic comment fast approaching. Just blankness. "You leave my family and I the hell alone. I don't want to see you two again."
Perhaps, his words should have hurt. Perhaps, later, when she thought all this through again, they would hurt. But, right now, she couldn't care less. So, Natasha raised her chin, refusing to back down from him. "Goodbye, Tony." Her words held no venom, no anger, just coldness that showed that she accepted the terms of his offer, and didn't feel anything about them. Inside her heart, though, a little piece of her died.
Without another word, Tony stalked into the darkness beyond the doorway, to join Pepper so the two of them could leave.
Slowly, Natasha turned to her husband, who met her gaze. It was clear to her, there and then, that neither of them had any idea what to do.
~0~0~0~0~0~
By the time that Steve Rogers entered the double doors of the facility and placed his large duffel bag on the ground by his feet, he was exhausted. Not physically; it would take a lot more than a long trip to Brooklyn and back to tire him out even a little bit. No, he was mentally tired.
Helping in the support groups had been his idea a year ago, shortly after everyone had left the facility and it had gotten too quiet. It was a way to help people to understand what had happened, and to give them a shoulder to lean on and an ear that would listen. But, the selfish part of him used it as a chance to escape his own mourning of the people he had lost, who he had failed.
"Nat?" He called, but like usual, only silence greeted him. That wasn't too surprising, considering the sheer size of the place. However, most times when he returned from a weekend trip, Natasha would greet him at the doorway. She would take his bag from him and take his jacket from him before kissing him, and whenever she did, he would feel a mixture of emotions; relief at being back with her, refreshed as his strength seemed to return, and also guilt for leaving her by herself even though she always insisted that he should go if he wanted to.
This time, he'd been away for a few days longer than usual, simply because it seemed that as it was exactly a year since the Snap, more people had been willing to come forward and express how they were feeling. Steve hadn't wanted to leave until he'd sat through each and every group, offering his support whenever he could. Of course, none of them were aware who he really was. He made sure to have a fake name tag, and posed as just a normal volunteer. Part of that was to avoid questions, and part of that was to avoid any accusing glances from people who would blame him - blame the Avengers - for not stopping Thanos.
"Sweetheart?" Steve checked again, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it over his bag as he headed further inside. It didn't matter if they boosted the heating in the place, it was just too large, too empty, for it to ever feel warm. But, it was the only home they had now, the only place that offered them the devices that Natasha used daily to keep in contact with members of her 'council'. Sometimes, Steve was sure that the only thing keeping his wife from falling apart was the fact she got constant updates. Yes, the reports never offered anything different, but it was just hearing that at least nothing bad had happened that comforted Natasha.
Again, Natasha didn't respond. Steve headed for the main offices. Scattered everywhere were Natasha's papers, note-pads with scribbles all over. What most people, including Steve, would call mess, was something that not even he was brave enough to tidy up. Natasha claimed that she knew exactly where everything was, and she'd already warned him several times that she'd use him as her next punching bag if he even moved a single sheet in an attempt to organise it.
She wasn't in the offices, which was strange. Normally, she'd be in a meeting whenever he came home. She'd always leave it half-way through to come and see him, and then rush back to finish it up with whomever was on the end. These days, it was usually Okoye, and Steve had a feeling that the general of Wakanda sought comfort and friendship from those calls just as much as Natasha did. Rocket got in touch once and a while, usually every two weeks or so. Carol Danvers and Rhodey usually called once a month.
Brow starting to furrow, Steve paused and simply listened. Then, he heard the smallest sound of fists hitting a punching bag, telling him exactly where his wife was. Trying not to sigh, Steve headed for the gym.
Sure enough, Natasha was there. The sweat that coated her forehead was enough of a sign that she had been done here for quite some time, but her punches didn't falter, not even once.
"Natasha?" Steve said firmly, and his wife paused.
For a second, he thought she would just simply resume what she was doing. But, then she turned slowly and faced him, her chest rising and falling harshly as she fought to regain her breath. Yes, she'd certainly been going at it for quite some time, if she was tired.
The look on her face was enough to make him worry. "What's happened?" He asked, walking across the mats towards her.
She watched him approach, in a way that always reminded him of a lioness, sizing up the new arrival. "Nothing."
This shortness wasn't a new thing from her. Over the past few weeks, Natasha had seemed to have gotten lost in her searching, in her meetings. Most nights, Steve had gone to bed first and waited for her to join him. After an hour, he just rolled over and allowed sleep to grasp him. He was never sure exactly what time Natasha eventually joined him, but once or twice, she hadn't even made it to bed. Then, he'd wake up at midnight to find her side of the bed still empty, only to go and find her asleep in an office chair. He'd had to refrain himself from lecturing her about working herself into the ground several times. Instead, he picked her up and carried her back to bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. She never stirred, and then the next morning, she'd be up and back at it before Steve had even gone to make them their first coffee of the day.
Even now, the tiredness to her features had nothing to do with her intense punching session. It was from all the late nights she must have had whilst he hadn't been around. Instantly, he worried about whether she'd actually cooked for herself whilst he was gone. He tried to swallow down that worry, nothing that Natasha would probably be irritated by it.
"Natasha," His hands moved to her elbows, grasping them softly. He so rarely said her full name, and it was normally when he wanted her to listen to him. This was one of those times. He certainly wasn't about to settle for her first answer, no matter how stubborn she could be. "What is wrong?"
"I told you, nothing." She said, wiggling out of the way of his hands and taking a step back. "Spar with me?"
He shook his head. "We need to-"
But, faster than he could react, Natasha crouched down and swung her legs out, causing him to fall on his ass. She tackled him, pinning him to the ground with his hands above his head. In any other scenario, Steve certainly wouldn't complain, and it was very hard to concentrate when she was pressing down on him like this. God, when had been the last time they had even - Concentrate, he told himself firmly.
As if sensing his moment of distraction, Natasha rolled her hips slightly against his. "It's not fun if you don't at least try, Steve." She said, pouting.
"I'm not going to spar with you." He lifted his eyes away from where her body lined with his, and back to those emerald eyes. Their usual spark had dulled over the last few months, and it pained hime every time he looked into them and saw just how much she was trying to hold herself together.
"Is that so?" She asked, leaning down. Her nose ran along his jawline, and she purred at the feeling of his stubble. He hadn't shaved whilst being in Brookyln. "Perhaps, that's because you have another suggestion of what we should be doing?"
Sex. She was distracting him with sex, trying to through him off her trail. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to concentrate on anything that wasn't her rolling hips or her mouth as it glided down from his ear, teeth scraping slightly against his skin.
"I hear fucking burns the same amount of calories as a work-out." Natasha went on, the hand that wasn't holding his own above his head glided down his side slowly. It spanned out over his shirt so her fingers could play with his buttons. They stopped when they reached his belt. "What do you say, soldier? Fancy testing that theory?"
He swallowed. "Right now, all I want is for my wife to tell me what is wrong."
Natasha huffed at that, but she didn't give up. Of course, she didn't. Instead, her hand moved lower, cupping him through the material of his trousers. Steve tried desperately to not show just how much her touch rendered him powerless against her. It had been so long…
"Tell me, Steve. What do you want me to do?" She whispered, her tongue licking the corner of his mouth in a slow, torturous swipe. "Do you want me to show you how much I missed you? Words aren't simply enough. I could show you with my mouth, with my tongue?" Her teeth sank into his bottom lip. "You always love it when I do that."
Yes, he did. Right now, his body was burning for her, for release that only she could bring. But, in the game of stubbornness, he was an equal match for her. He shoved that desire down, only managing to do so slightly, but enough that he could say, "Natasha, tell me what is wrong."
"What is wrong, is that my husband is wearing too many clothes." Her hand squeezed him ever so slightly, and he tried to swallow the groan that threatened to erupt from him. "I can feel how much you want me, Steve. Do you not remember how good you feel when you're inside me? How well you fill me?"
He remembered, and he wanted her, but that need came second best right now. She was hiding how she was truly feeling, and he wouldn't let her hide it by seducing him.
Her mouth was moving again, down his throat. She stopped when she reached his pulsepoint, where she then sucked him hard, hard enough to leave a mark. "I'm so ready for you, Steve." She told him in a low, hushed whisper, one that dripped with desire. "Touch me."
She sat back, guiding one of his hands to her gym leggings. They peeled away from her so easily as she brought his hand underneath them, just past the rim, as she waited for him to make the final move.
But, he forced himself to pull his fingers away from where she was yearning for his touch. He didn't miss the look that flashed across his wife's face, and quickly said to make sure she knew it wasn't point-blank rejection, "Tell me what's wrong, and then we can play, Nat."
Again, she huffed, sitting back straight and folding her arms over her chest. For a long moment, she just stared at him, and he thought she was just going to get up and walk away. Then, she sighed, and as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her hips, she admitted, "Nothing. It's always nothing. Nothing changes in the reports. Nothing changes here. Nothing has happened, and nothing will happen."
It had been years, and still Natasha refused to give up. Although it really was admirable, and they all maybe carried that little spark of hope that an answer would one day find them, only Natasha spent countless hours searching, planning. Steve hadn't accepted what had happened, but had just lost himself in days and days of listening to other people talking. What was his main priority, though, should have been making sure his wife wasn't working herself to death. Guilt pierced him, sharp enough to really hurt, as he took in her pale skin and dull eyes. She was different from the woman who had returned from Wakanda; she wasn't overrun with sadness, so much so that she secluded herself and never spoke. Instead, she now just locked herself away in the offices and worked, right through the day and into the night until he came and carried her to bed. Without him getting involved like that, Steve was positive that Natasha would never leave the offices on her own accord. It was as if she was trying to make up for those first few days where she hadn't tried, and as time went on and her 'council' started to stop coming back to her with fresh reports, she was working harder to make up for that too.
It shouldn't all be on her shoulders, even if she was the one to put the weight there. He should have stayed behind here, kept her company, helped her if it meant she felt less alone. "Talk to me, Natasha. Please."
He was prepared to beg. It wouldn't bother him one bit. This woman had seen him cry multiple times, had been the person to hold him together whenever he broke down. If he was going to have to beg to get her to admit how she was feeling, he would do it gradly.
But, whether it was the fact she knew this, or the fact she heard the pleading tone of his voice, Natasha's expression changed, softened. "I'm so tired, Steve."
Not just physically tired, and he understood that, because he felt exactly the same. Slowly, he cupped her face in his hands lovingly, his touch as soft as feathers. "I know, Nat." He kissed her forehead. "What you are doing...there's not a single one of us that doesn't appreciate all your hard work, all your faith." His lips brushed over one cheek, which was damp with a tear that had fallen. He kissed that away. "But, sweetheart, you need to take care of yourself, too." He moved to the other cheek, his nose brushing against her skin. "I need you to take care of yourself first. I need you."
Something inside her snapped, the tether that had been holding her together, that had been forcing her to keep going. Her arms were around his neck before he could blink, and her face buried against his neck as she sobbed. His hand glided up and down her spine as he held her, and he didn't say a word, waiting until she was ready. As her citrus scent surrounded him, he realised just how much he had missed her.
"I'm not going back to Brooklyn this weekend." He decided out loud, when a few minutes of heavy silence passed between them. "I'm staying with you."
She pulled away to look up at him. "Steve, all those people-"
"Will have other volunteers and councillors to help them." Steve said firmly. "I'm staying with you, exactly where I belong."
More tears spilled down her face, and Steve kissed away every single one of them. Then, Natasha's hand was on the back of his neck as she pulled him towards her, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Steve moaned into her mouth, hands grasping her waist. When had been the last time that they had kissed like this? With wild abandon, with that all-consuming love that left them both breathless? When had been the last time they had simply just been Steve and Natasha?
When their kiss eventually ended, Steve brushed his nose against hers. "Let's go to bed, sweetheart." He whispered.
With a small nod, Natasha got off him and offered her hand to him. Smiling softly, Steve accepted the offer, cupping her face as soon as he was standing so he could kiss her again. She was addictive, her lips like sugar to him. Something he'd gone without for far too long.
Natasha's squeal as he picked her up lifted his heart, and with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, Steve carried them towards the bedroom, leaving behind the training mats and endless paperwork.
That could all wait.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Natasha smiled to herself as she heard the sound of her husband's footsteps approaching the kitchen. Years ago, she'd memorised how his footfalls sounded, and she was confident that she could pick up the sound of him walking anywhere, even over the softest of grass.
Then, she heard him falter when he reached the doorway, and knew exactly what had caused him to pause in stunned surprise. Slowly, she turned to face him, knowing full well that the countless candles she had lit was catching her dress, making the navy glisten for his eyes. She'd braided her hair, enjoying the style now that it had grown so much over the past couple of years. Her natural red had returned, but she'd quite enjoyed the blonde, so the ends of her hair remained that platinum colour, blending perfectly.
"Hey, baby." Her words came out so quiet, but still warm. Even though she'd heavily suggested that he should dress up for tonight too, the suit of him stood in those smartly-dressed pants, thick belt and open-collared white shirt left her momentarily speechless.
Her husband, too, was enjoying the view. His eyes took her in, from the top of her head right down to her dark heels. "Natasha, is that-?"
"The same dress?" She tilted her head to the side, knowing full well that by doing so, the skin of her neck was even more exposed by the candlelight. Almost automatically, Steve's darkening gaze flicked up to that area. "Yes."
Slowly, drinking in every inch of her as he came closer, Steve walked over to her. "You're so beautiful, Nat." He whispered, and she could see the mixture of emotions that were storming in his eyes, could hear it in the slight tremble to his voice. When he stopped in front of her, he lightly trailed the back of his hand down her cheek. "My Natasha,"
Unable to keep herself from him any longer, Natasha reached up and captured his lips with hers, her hand moving instantly to the back of his neck. Steve made no protest, holding her by the waist as their mouths moved in a perfect rhythm. Although she'd taken some time to do her make-up for tonight, that really didn't matter. Nothing was important enough to stand in the way of her kissing her husband, and Steve seemed very appreciative of this fact as he moaned against the mouth the second her tongue came into play.
One of his hands fisted against the material of her dress, causing it to punch up slightly, lifting the bottom of it up. When he realised that the thin dress was the only thing covering her body, Steve growled, "You drive me insane, Natasha."
She hummed against his mouth. "This dress is short enough that I wouldn't even have to take it off-" She guided his hand between her legs, letting him feel for himself just how much she wanted him.
His kiss became firmer - but, never harsher. Powerful, but not demanding. He kissed her senseless, so much so that her mind went fuzzy and her whole body felt alive with energy.
But, just as his fingers brushed against her, she pulled away. "After dinner, you'll have me." She promised before stepping around him, just as the camera systems in the office nearby alerted her to the approaching delivery driver.
Just as she reached the doorway, Steve's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. His teeth grazed her ear and down her throat as he said, "What if I don't want to wait?"
That tone of his would certainly be the death of her, and it took every last scrap of self restraint she had to not let him have his way, to ignore the food waiting for them outside and get the night started a lot earlier than planned. But, she'd wanted to do this for him on every single anniversary, and every year, there had always been something that happened that got in the way. This time, she wasn't about to let the chance escape her, even if it meant delaying mind-blowing sex with her delicious husband.
"Behave yourself, Rogers." She said, but she purposefully pushed her hips back against him. She gasped slightly when she felt just how much he wanted her, felt it press against her backside in demand. "You'll need your strength for what I have planned."
With a growl, Steve reluctantly let go. "I'll get the food." He said, giving her earlobe a nip before whispering, "No other man is seeing my wife like this."
Smiling at his alpha-male behaviour, Natasha let him go, smirking as she realised Steve would have quite the job of hiding his evident arousal from the poor delivery driver. "Make sure you give him a generous tip," She called after him.
Moments later, and Steve returned. He watched as Natasha walked over to him, only to grab his hand and lead them both to the counter where she'd already laid out plates, knives, forks and a few more candles. Steve kissed her one last time, hungrily and filled with the promise of what she should expect once they were done, before they sat down and started to eat.
Their food was exactly the same as it had been that first night, but Natasha couldn't give her memory any credit for it. It was simply just a chance that neither she or Steve changed their preferred order over the year.
Steve poured them both some wine, and they clicked glasses before taking a long sip each. His eyes never left her face, and Natasha made sure to caress her lips with her tongue in a long swipe once she was done.
Neither of them brought up work, or council meetings, or support groups. There was not a single mention of Thanos, or the infinity stones, or what had happened both in Wakanda and on that planet four years ago. Tonight was their night, and so instead, they spoke about their favourite memories together, of back in the days when they both lived in the Stark Tower and had to hide their secret moments. As they devoured their meals, they both laughed so hard that their stomachs hurt from it, and both of them felt as if everything was normal. That it was just the two of them. No stresses. No guilt. No horrible memories.
They were both entitled to be a little bit selfish, if just for one night.
Natasha wasn't quite sure who moved first, once they were both finished with their meal. One second, they were both sat there, Steve's hand covering hers over the table, just looking at one another. Then, Steve's lips crashed against hers, and Natasha found herself sat on the edge of the counter with her hands tangled in his hair and her legs thrown around his waist, ankles locking at the back of his legs.
It didn't take long before Steve's hand was on her thigh, his touch sending shivers up and down Natasha's spine. Her back arched as his finger entered her, finding her already wet and ready. She shuddered in pleasure as that digit started to move in and out, whirling inside her slightly, before being joined by a second.
"Steve," She gasped out, and he understood her silent plea. Whilst his hand moved faster, his lips reclaimed her mouth, his tongue coming out to battle against hers. She let him take over the kiss, rendering all control to him as his hand took her on the counter. Her hips rocked forward to meet him, her heels pressing into the back of his legs whilst her hands clung onto him.
"So good," He commented in a low, irrestisble voice as his thumb circled her bundle of nerves. He knew exactly what to do with her body, how to play it and give her exactly what she wanted, but also how to drag out her pleasure until she was rendered into a mess of whimpering and moaning.
Her eyes were scrunched shut as his hand continued to move in and out, and when a third finger was added, she let out a scream of his name. Thankfully, the facility had no neighbours for miles, and even if it did, Natasha wouldn't have cared. She wanted the whole world to hear her, wanted the entire universe to know that she belonged to this man, forever and always.
Natasha gasped as her husband's teeth sank into the junction of her neck and shoulder, not sharp enough to hurt, but with enough pleasure that it drove her closer to that edge.
His other hand moved round to her back, keeping her supported so she could continue to ride his hand. Her head fell forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder as his tongue licked at her skin, soothing the area where his teeth had just been.
"Steve, please," The words came out strained, as the ability to string a sentence together was stripped from her.
"I've told you, Natasha. You never have to beg. Never from me." He promised, but then his actions contradicted his words, as he removed his fingers from her completely.
Stunned, Natasha's lips parted as she felt the emptiness inside her. But, before she could even think to protest, Steve's mouth had replaced his hand, and a surge of bliss overpowered her. She fell back against the counter, the cold marble pressed against the bare skin of her arms and back, but she didn't feel it. She didn't feel anything apart from Steve's tongue as it explored her, his hands as they grasped her hips again.
Steve's tongue played her as beautifully as his fingers had done, driving her towards her release with each swipe. Steve's hands pulled her even closer to his face, and Natasha lifted her hips in wanton abandonment. His name continued to fall from her mouth in whimpers, in breathless moans, and she came apart underneath him. Although his grip on her waist was firm, it wasn't enough to leave any bruises behind.
He remained exactly where he was, head buried between her thighs as he saw her through her organism, held her close to him through each powerful wave.
By the time Natasha could see straight, Steve removed his mouth from her. He looked up at her, and the sight of his shining eyes and glistening lips between her legs left her speechless.
Steve kissed her inner thighs, licking at the skin and nuzzling his nose against the softness of her skin
"As much as I love this dress," Steve groaned against her thigh, whilst his hands gathered up the material which had pooled around her waist, shoved away from her legs completely. "I want it off you. Now."
Smirking, Natasha pulled back so she could see for herself the desire that darkened her husbands eyes, so much so that they almost matched the colour of her dress. "What are you waiting for, solider?"
His answer was a low growl as his lips fixed themselves to her inner thigh again, sucking hard. Natasha's grip in his hair tightened, encouraging him to keep going until he marked her. Sure enough, when Steve finally straightened and brought his lips back to hers, there was now a purplish mark left behind from his work.
As he kissed her and she tasted herself on his lips, Steve wasted no time in finding the zip of her dress and trailing it down her back. The material of her dress peeled away from her, and she was more than aware that the only reason that her husband hadn't ripped it clean from her body was because it was this dress.
Cold evening air hit her breasts, which had already peaked thanks to Steve. His hand wasted no time, grasping at one breast and playing with the alert nipple, rolling it and squeezing it. Natasha's mouth parted, allowing Steve's tongue to plunder inside once again, stroking over hers. She felt his hand at her hair, releasing the band that held it together at the bottom, before his fingers combed through the braid, loosening her fiery locks and leaving them as soft curls. He growled in approval.
Although her dress would remain intact, Natasha knew that neither of them had any concerns when it came to his shirt. That was ripped into pieces within seconds, and she felt Steve's chuckle at her eagerness. Her hands flew to his belt, easing it from around his waist before she practically shoved his pants and boxers down. As soon as he was stood naked before her in all her glory, her eyes took in the display of muscle in front of her; those powerful arms, those sculptured abs, the v of his waist.
If his body was put together by God, than that cock of his was all the devil's work. Smirking at the thought, Natasha grasped him in her hand and felt Steve's entire body shudder at the contact. She released him, making sure that her fingers glided up his length slowly.
"Are you going to fuck me, Steve?" She asked against his lips, as she felt his hardness press against her, right where his mouth had just been. That all too familiar thrill shot through her as she regarded just how well-endowed he was. All hers.
"Is that what you want me to do?" He shot back, dropping his head to capture her other nipple, making sure it wasn't left out. He sucked hard, making her whimper and clutch at the back of his neck. Her hands glided down his back, with enough pressure to ensure that her nails left long red streaks behind them. "I'll do whatever you want me to, Natasha." Whether it was fucking, or making love, he'd give her everything.
For a moment, because of his skilful hand and mouth, and because of the demanding length pulsing against her, Natasha couldn't voice an answer. When her words finally found her, her voice dripped with need, "I want you to fuck me, Steve, and then I want to make love to you."
Another growl, this one so deep that it vibrated into her own skin, before he kissed her and entered her at the same time. His hands drew her as close to the edge of the counter as she could get, but she was practically kept balanced by his hips as they held her up. No one moved for a few seconds, as Natasha got settled with him inside her, and then as soon as she returned his kiss with equal vigour, Steve started to move.
Thrust after powerful thrust. Natasha was still sensitive from her first organism, and in the back of her mind, she made a mental note to make sure that she ensured that she and Steve were equal by the end of the night. But, as he continued to move in and out of her, pulling out till he was almost out of her completely before ramming back inside, such thoughts left her mind quickly. She didn't think about the future, or the past. Just the present. Just her beautiful husband claiming her body, moving inside her so wonderfully that she could see stars. Steve. Just Steve.
Her dress was still around her waist, but Steve could reach all the parts of her body where she craved his touch. As he continued to move those sinful hips, pushing deeper each time, his hand still teased her nipple, and his mouth kissed every inch of her chest, her collarbones, her neck. As he worked his hips in that perfect rhythm, the vein on the side of his throat throbbed, capturing Natasha's attention. Panting, she kissed and bit at his throat, hungry for any inch of him that she could reach.
Nails digging into his back, Natasha lost herself in the sensations that he brought her. Her head rolled back as his lips latched onto one of her nipples again, making refraining any scrap of self control quite a difficult task. After all this time together, nothing had dimmed between them. Nothing ever would. It wasn't possible. They burned for one another, a flame that consumed them both completely.
"I'm so close, Steve." She whimpered, feeling that approaching organism ready to hit her. Her legs tightened their grip around his waist, her heels still on and therefore digging into the back of his muscular thighs still. If Steve found it uncomfortable, he didn't say, and she doubted that her husband was thinking about that.
Fuelled by her words, in the pleading behind them, Steve increased his thrusts even more, so much so that no human man would ever be able to compete. Within seconds, Natasha was hit by her second organism, and as she fluttered and tightened around him, Steve followed closely behind.
"I love how loud you are, Natasha." His lips brushed over her collarbone, making their way upward so he could kiss her hotly on the lips again. "I want the whole world to hear that you are mine."
"Only yours," She agreed, panting heavily.
He remained inside her even after the last wave faded away, and Natasha let out a noise of surprise as Steve lifted her up and carried her across the facility before lowering them both onto the bed. He was already hard inside her, and moving again before Natasha could even take in the fact she was now lying on their bed. That didn't matter how, as Steve's thrusts started slowly and then picked up pace and depth.
Natasha lifted a leg up, relying on years of training to hook it over his shoulder. Her entire body trembled at this new angle, at how it enabled to get Steve even deeper inside her, touching that sweet spot each and every time. Steve growled his approval, grasping her thigh so he could lift her other leg over his shoulder too. He hooked his arms over her knees, keeping her legs exactly where they were as he pounded inside her.
"I love you, Natasha." He groaned out, the words coming out in time with his hips. Even as passion filled their bodies, he spoke those words with clarity, as he always did. "I love you so damn much."
Natasha's heart felt ready to explode along with the rest of her body. "I love you, Steve." This position felt wonderful, he felt wonderful, as he filled her completely. "Keep going, baby."
And he did. Relentlessly, he hammered into her, and Natasha clutched at the sheets at her side as her back arched. Her grip was so tight that she could feel her nails pressing right through the sheets and into her palms. She shouted his name again and again, and nothing had ever sounded so good. Nothing had ever felt this good.
This time, after their blinding release found them, Steve pulled out of her. He lowered her legs, but remained hovering above her, keeping his weight off her with his hands on either side of her face.
Lazily, a sated Natasha traced the line of his cheekbone with her finger. "That was amazing." She whispered.
He leaned down to nuzzle against her neck, and she couldn't care less that she was sweaty. He was equally as sweaty, and the sensation of their skin against one another was incredible. "You are amazing." He mumbled back, nipping lightly at her neck. "I could do this all night."
She purred, her red hair fanning around her face, the ends shining with blonde. "You promise?"
"Minx." He commented, but she could feel his smile against her neck. He lowered himself just slightly, just enough so that their bodies were pressing against one another again, but not enough that she was crushed between him and the mattress. It wasn't just so she could feel him already growing ready again, but just because they both enjoyed that physical closeness all too much. "You're my favourite person, Natasha. Always."
"I'm glad to hear it. I'd be offended if there was someone better than me, after all that." She teased, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Steve looked down at her, and she smiled, "I'm teasing, Steve. You're my favourite person, too. You have been for a very long time. Nothing will change what you mean to me."
He kissed her, gentle and slow. Another way of telling her that she held his heart.
Taking this moment to her advantage, Natasha flipped them over so she could pin his hands above his head, straddling his waist.
Amusement sparked in those blue eyes of his as Steve watched her lift the dress off her head, leaving her entire body finally bare to him, apart from those heels of hers.
"What are you up to, Natasha?" He asked carefully, watching as she started to trace her hands down his chest, appreciating the sight before her.
Natasha smirked down at him, a huntress through and through. She could feel his want, feel it pulsing against her, and she could read it in his burning eyes. "I told you," She whispered, leaning down to kiss along his jawline, her tongue flicking out and tasting his sweaty skin. "I said I wanted you to fuck me, and then I wanted to make love to my husband." Her hand moved underneath her, taking him and lining him up with her entrance once again. "And that is exactly what I am going to do."
Steve's head was thrown back against the pillows as Natasha engulfed him right to the hilt, and she too needed a moment to gather herself up.
Then, when she looked down at him, that predator smile was back, making his entire body surge with pleasure and anticipation, as well as a fierce possessiveness. "Happy anniversary, baby." She purred to him, leaning down and capturing his mouth in a slow, burning kiss. In doing so, he moved even deeper inside her at the new angle, and they both hissed.
His hand knotted into her hair, loving the length of it and how silky it was between his fingers. "Happy anniversary, indeed."
Once she started to move, the sounds of their moaning filled the room, and the two of them lost themselves in one another all over again. All through the night, they worshipped one another, exploring every inch of their bodies and bringing each other endless pleasure.
This was not about forgetting. This was about living.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Okay, so just to clarify; the start of this chapter is right after they returned from Thanos, then the next section is a year after, and then this last section is four years after that.
Are you ready for the Endgame part of the story to start? How do you think it's going to end?
- E x