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Natasha stepped back to allow Steve into her apartment. He’d asked to meet at the cafe down the road, but she suspected she knew what this was about and had zero interest in making a public spectacle if things went favorably.
The click of the lock was jarringly loud, but she offered him a reassuring smile and sauntered to the bar bisecting her kitchen and living area. Her loose black skirt swayed around her upper thighs and she could feel his gaze like a caress.
Good.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Steve seemed startled by the question and Natasha hid a grin.
“I. No. No, thank you.” He fidgeted with his hands as Nat leaned against the bar, giving him time.
They’d known each other obliquely for years; Natasha’s brother, Bucky, was his closest friend, but they hadn’t actually gotten to know one another until Steve had moved into her apartment complex.
He’d latched onto her as a familiar face amongst a building full of strangers and Nat had found herself unwittingly charmed by his unfailing optimism and uncomplicated enjoyment of life.
It had been a thorough and abrupt fall for her and she had been shocked to realize she wasn’t even mad about it.
But Steve wasn’t the type to be rushed into something like this. So She’d been patiently waiting, poised like a spider in its web, for Steve to come around.
And here he was, two years later, radiating nervous energy, eyes darting periodically down to her lips, and working, she knew, for the courage to tell her his feelings.
Finally .
“Natasha, I- we.” He ran a hand over his face before his features hardened in determination.
That’s it.
He stepped closer, not quite in her space, but skimming the borders. “We’ve known each other for years now.”
“We have.” Natasha raised a brow, dropping her elbows onto the bar and tilting her head so she didn’t have to crane her neck to see his face.
“And it’s been great. And I want you to know that you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had. And that doesn’t have to change if you’re not…if you-” He trailed off and Nat swallowed.
No, no, don’t stop now. If he lost his nerve, she knew he’d never be able to face her again. He’d dodge her and guilt himself for it and eventually they’d just drift away from each other.
She couldn’t allow that. Not when they were so close.
“If?” She asked, and allowed some of her own hope to bleed into the word. It went against her own rules, but what did old rules matter when Steve Rogers was an inch away from-
Kissing her.
He was kissing her.
Yesss… Nat hummed contentedly and wrapped her arms around Steve’s neck. His lips were firm against her own, confident despite his nerves and smooth as silk. She basked in their warmth and the weight of his hands on her hips.
It was perfect. Exactly as it should have been; so sweet and slow and oh. That…that was definitely a cock pressed against her thigh, fully hard.
Perhaps not so slow, then.
Steve seemed to read her mind, hands dropping from her waist to grasp at the backs of her thighs and lifting her onto the bar as he stepped between her open knees.
Aww. She smiled against his lips. He really thought she expected him to run the show.
Oh sweetheart, relax. I’ve got this.
She twisted the collar of his t-shirt in her fist, slipping off the bar and dragging him toward the floor. A confused frown wrinkled his brow, and Natasha thought that might be just about the most adorable thing she’d ever seen, but he let her push him to his knees.
“Good boy,” she said, voice dark with approval.
Steve’s wide eyes flew up to hers and color rode high on his cheeks. “Nat?”
She ran a reassuring hand through his hair. “Come here,” she said, guiding him forward as she hooked one leg over his shoulder. She leaned back against the bar and reveled in the moment he realized that she’d been prepared for this. She was bare beneath the skirt and a pulse of heat shot through her when Steve unconsciously licked his lips.
"Natasha."
All for you, babe. She pressed him closer until he seemed to finally get the idea. He dove forward with a shuddering groan, ghosting his lips over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as his hands smoothed up her legs and pushed the skirt out of the way.
She breathed a sigh when his tongue found her center. He wasted no time licking into her slit and seeming to savor it, tongue dipping into her as deep as the angle would allow before darting up to her sensitive nub. He flicked over it, drawing a shiver as Natasha clenched her fist harder in his hair. She was already so wet with just the thought of finally having him where she wanted him; this wasn’t going to take long.
Steve sucked her clit, teasing a finger into her opening and curling it unerringly into the perfect spot. She thrust her hips hard against him, her body reacting without her input.
“ Fuck Nat,” he panted desperately against her folds, adding another finger and dropping his other hand to press against the tent in his khakis.
It was that display of pure want that pushed Natasha over the edge and she came, shuddering with a weak cry as she rode out the aftershocks on his still flickering tongue.
Steve rained tender kisses over the tops of her thighs until she pulled him away with an affectionate tug, her leg falling limply from his shoulder.
She pressed him down onto his back and followed him to the floor, kneeling and making quick work of his button fly.
“Please,” he rasped, lifting his hips as she slid the pants down with his briefs, not bothering to pull them past his still-tied shoes.
“Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” she whispered, climbing over to straddle him and leaning forward to drop a kiss onto his nose.
She carded her fingers back into his hair, tilting his head up so she could lick the taste of herself from his mouth.
He whined deep in his throat, sealing their lips together, big hands pushing bruises into her hips as his cock strained toward her.
“Settle.” She commanded. Natasha leaned up and placed a heavy hand on his chest, waiting patiently while he forced his body to do as she’d told him; watching as his muscles relaxed one by one until he was lying still beneath her. The heat in his eyes seared into hers and she felt an answering flame burn beneath her skin.
“Good boy,” she praised again, rising to center herself over the part of him that was decidedly not relaxed.
He bit his lip, trembling hands smoothing up her thighs. Natasha tutted and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Did you ask permission?” She asked, voice dangerously low.
Steve froze, eyeing her warily. “May I touch you?” He asked apologetically.
So obedient.
“You may.”
Natasha smiled sharply and took his hands in hers, pressing them higher on her thighs, pushing away the edges of her skirt so he could see when she released his hands to position the head of his cock at her entrance.
“Green?” She asked, proud when he nodded eagerly.
"Green.”
In one fluid movement, she slid him inside, rolling her hips when they met with his. Steve made a punched out sound, the color on his cheeks deepening and spreading down below the stretched collar of his shirt as a tremor shook the tense muscles of his legs.
Beautiful.
He skimmed his fingers up her ribs and under her shirt, flicking his thumbs over her nipples and a line of fire flared to life between those two sharp points of pleasure and the heat and stretch of his cock inside her.
Natasha bit her lip, it wouldn’t do to let herself get overwhelmed the first time she had him under her. She took his hands, heedless that it left her breasts on full display, and pushed them over his head pressing them against the floor in a clear order.
“Stay.”
“Yes ma’am.”
His voice was hoarse. Cute .
Any other time, those words would have been funny, but here and now, with his eyes blown wide and dark, pulse ticking in his neck and his body stretched out just for her…
Funny wasn’t the word.
Nat braced her hands on the floor, and rocked back, fucking herself on that thick cock, unable to hold in the small sounds that escaped every time it slid over that magic spot inside or when she ground her clit down onto him as he thrust up to meet her.
Words were falling from Steve’s mouth, a litany of Nat and Please and Fuck , but when they started deteriorating into wordless huffs and groans, she knew he was getting close.
“That’s it, baby," she whispered, squeezing one hand between them to work over her most sensitive place. “Let me see you come.”
Steve groaned, hips snapping up and hands coming down from above to push her hips harder onto him.
She’d forgive the disobedience just this once.
He shuddered, body going rigid and cock pulsing as he came hard and Natasha slid a hand up around his throat.
“Don’t. Stop.” She growled, and he groaned helplessly, still thrusting hard against her, tears gathering in those long lashes. He whimpered weakly and she knew he was teetering on the edge between oversensitivity and pain, but God , what a picture he made. Natasha quickened her fingers, hips rocking until her own orgasm crashed down over her and she came with a startled cry. She let herself collapse bonelessly onto Steve’s chest, humming contentedly as his arms rose to hold her close.
Minutes or hours later, Steve brushed her hair back from her face and dropped a soft kiss onto her forehead.
“I came here to tell you I’m in love with you,” he said quietly into her hair.
Natasha smiled against the curve of his throat.
“I know.” She leaned up to look him in the eye. No guarding, no prevarication. “I love you too.”
The pure honest happiness in his responding smile burned away some dark, cold corner of her heart.
And because she’d walk through hell and back to see it just once more, she said it again.
“I love you, Steve Rogers.”