Work Text:
An Act of Love
Steve Rogers loved Natasha Romanoff with all his heart, and he never failed to tell her so every single day they awoke next to each other.
It all began almost a year ago with a botched painting and (to put it bluntly) a fire-lit fingering in front of the Avengers Facility furnace. Since that night, Steve and Natasha had been nearly inseparable (although not in any way that compromised their professional work…… mostly) and their relationship had taken new and exciting turns. They’d bought a small house together and were ludicrously happy with their quasi-domestic (missions, aliens, and unavoidable public displays of affection notwithstanding because no one hit on the man The Black Widow had given her heart to) bliss.
There was only one tiny hiccup in their relationship that only Natasha seemed to be hung up on. Steve knew how she felt about him, but this one detail had been twisting around in her head a lot over the past three months; sometimes keeping the woman he loved up at night.
I still haven’t said it back to him. Three little words, and I couldn’t do it after a year of sharing nearly everything with the man I…… cared very, very deeply for.
“Dammit. I can’t even think it.” She mumbled on one of said nights.
“Hmm? Whazzat, Nat?” He grunted from his side of the bed.
“Nothing, Steve. Go back to sleep. You have that thing with Wanda tomorrow.” She poured on a bit too sweetly.
He turned his head to look at her with curious eyes and observed her for a solid minute.
“Okay, what’s wrong? You’ve been doing this for months, Natasha.” He said with surprising alacrity for someone who was practically dead to the world two minutes ago. He’d even maneuvered so he was sitting right next to her while she reclined on their padded headboard.
“Talk to me…… please?” He added as he took her hand in his.
She turned her head away and sat there for a good while before she painfully and sullenly whispered; “Do you ever get tired of waiting for me to say it back?”
His fingers stiffened from their work of rubbing tiny circles on her knuckles. He sat there; unmoving, for nearly a minute before his hand then trailed its way up her arm so he could gently but firmly take her chin and turn her back to meet his eyes.
They looked into their respective depths as a silence built in their bedroom. She was so transfixed that she couldn’t stop his other hand from snaking under her nightgown and between her legs to rub her perfectly trimmed mound. She gasped, but kept her gaze locked oh his as both of their eyes darkened with lust.
“Я люблю тебя, Наташа. Мое сердце.” He adamantly stated in her native tongue. Making her pant as he sped up his loving ministrations.
“I’ll happily wait as long as I have to for you to tell me the same, but I already know you do. You wanna know how?” He breathed as his lips inched closer and closer to hers, all the while never stopping his actions below her gown.
“Скажите, Стив.” She moaned as he kept his lips a hairs-breath away from her own.
“Because your eyes look exactly like mine did when I’d stare in the mirror thinking about how much it hurt to love you, but never being able to say so. You’ve been suffering on your own because the courage hasn’t manifested itself in a way you can understand.” He boldly stated as his fingers stopped rubbing and he finally eased a digit into her.
“H-how… Да! Прямо там… what gave you the strength?” She asked as her own fingers clutched his bicep and her nails gouged painlessly into his strong skin.
She gave a quick yelp as she was thrown face-down rather unceremoniously from the headboard onto the middle of the bed and Steve was situated on her back not a second later. He was achingly hard in his boxer-briefs, and made a very conscious effort to rub his growing; but still-covered, erection into her center. His hands intertwined with her own as he spread their arms out so that the weight of his torso was completely on her own.
Natasha had made it very clear to him how comforting the feeling of his skin and muscles around her body was to her, and he took it to heart every chance he got.
“The same person who very nearly broke my arm the first time we sparred because she thought I was going easy on her.” He whispered hotly into her ear as he rolled his hips against hers.
“Couldn’t - Ой. Такой большой. – couldn’t have you thinking you had to take care of me in the field.” She said in broken sighs and quick breaths.
“You knew my experience with women in the field, love. I think you just wanted to show off how easily you could climb all over me and have me at your mercy.” He smiled coyly as he pumped his hips a few more times.
“You are rather easy to crawl over. All those handholds you call muscles.” She smirked as she pushed her hips back unexpectedly to meet his, forcing a gasp from his lips.
“How, Nat?” He asked breathlessly. She knew what he meant.
How do you want me to make love to you?
“Show me you love me. In the way I would never trust anyone other than you to do.” She said as she turned her head to the side and looked as meaningfully as she could into his eyes.
That kind of request came out of the blue. He knew what that did to me. Despite the physical thrill I got from it, I had told him how vulnerable I felt when we made love that way…
… But he also knew that I would only ask if I knew with unwavering certainty what I wanted.
“Please?” She added as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth when she noticed how hard he was thinking.
“Что-нибудь для вас, моя любовь.” He whispered as he took one hand away from hers and bunched her gown above her bottom. He brought a pillow to her and she lifted herself up so he could slip it under her stomach.
They hadn’t done this in almost a week. He was incredibly satisfied by our physical relationship and didn’t push for it; while I enjoyed the feeling but hated the loss of personal control. I’d only ever offer when I was feeling particularly adventurous.
I have been feeling very adventurous over the past three months.
This felt different. This felt like I was asking for more than just the thrill of doing something what a great many people considered taboo.
Steve put his own thoughts aside as she flipped her hair and gave him her trademarked “What’re you waiting for, Soldier?” smirk. He smiled shyly and proceeded to kiss down her back until her clothes got in the way, forcing him to completely remove her gown while simultaneously ridding himself of his underwear.
“C’mon, Steve. Don’t tease.” She sighed as his hands began to massage her bottom with care.
“It’s called foreplay, darling. You know we need it when we do this.” He whispered as she tried to force her hips back into his now-free erection, doing nothing more than driving him insane as it slid between her perfectly rounded cheeks.
“You always take such good care of me.” She sighed as he resumed kissing down her back.
“I always will, so long as you’ll have me.” He whispered as his tongue flicked out and caught the very place she asked him to make love to. Her shuddered intake of breath played havoc on his already over-powered senses.
He continued licking and sucking as her fingers clutched the sheets and her toes curled in on themselves.
I’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted to give him this as often as I could because of how close together I feel it brings us. The undisputed trust it took to give him what very few others (none of whom were still alive, or had asked permission from me in the first place) had the chance to experience. This was the one part of me that I would only ever trust with Steve. The blatant submission I’ve only ever felt truly acceptable because he loves me; darkness and all.
“Steve! Steve, I’m ready. I’m so ready.” She nearly sobbed as her feelings began to get the better of her.
She felt the cold splash of lubricant where his tongue just was as his finger slowly dipped into her. Making sure she wasn’t just trying to rush this along so he could have her. It was a problem they’d faced in the beginning; when they were learning each other’s body. Her forgoing the build-up of pleasure because she mistook his eagerness to please her as impatience or slight frustration because of his inexperience.
They had a talk about it one night about a month into their new life together. Him explaining that he was just trying to incorporate everything he’d read or watched (and that had been a particularly funny/endearing moment for her. Seeing Captain America squirm and falter while trying to tell her that he’d watched as many “tutorials” as he could; stating that only about thirty percent of them had been in any way helpful) into trying to please her. They’d made true, passionate love for the very first time that night. She knew from the feelings she experienced that that’s the only way to describe what they’d done to one another. They’d left each other completely wrecked and neither of them could walk for a few hours afterward even with their respective serums racing through their veins, healing bruises and rejuvenating sore muscles.
I offered him what we were doing now nearly eight months after that night. The look on his face was something I’d hold onto forever if I had any say. He looked like a lost puppy, but that look had morphed into one of curiosity and he caught me off-guard when he kissed me. Whispering that’d he do anything I asked, but wanting to know if I was sure.
That’s what made me cry. At his unwavering dedication that I was my own woman who made my own choices; and then he had to go to say that he was just grateful for even the chance to massage my feet when I got home. His need for absolute certainty at what I was offering was something I’d never experienced before.
I’d never said “Yes” faster or clearer in all my life.
It had been painful. Steve was not small in any sense of the word. But as I grew accustomed to the act, I felt something I’d never felt before. I felt… at peace. As if there was nothing more to the world than the two of us experiencing something new and pleasurable.
And it was pleasurable. I felt an almost perverse amount of euphoria doing this with him. I didn’t realize why until I was cradled in his arms as we (he) slept our lovemaking off.
I had given him the one thing in my life that I had never offered to anyone else. Not even people I had slept with of my own free will after I’d been saved by Clint from The Red Room.
It wasn’t the act itself (amazing… so amazing as it was) but the feeling behind it. I had been chasing the feeling from that night for the past three months. The sleepless nights he knew I was experiencing? I was mulling over asking him to do it again. He hadn’t put the pieces together, but my best nights of sleep had been after he’d taken me like this. After I’d put my trust in him with my body and my heart like no one else before him.
I could have kicked myself.
“Steve?” She whispered as his fingers left and he very nearly entered her.
He stopped. Like she knew in her heart he would.
“Yes, Natasha?” He asked as he gently lowered on to her back to whisper directly into her ear.
“I love you.” She managed to say as tears formed in her eyes.
The look of peace and happiness that spread over his face was blinding to her.
“I love you too, Nat. More than anything or anyone else in the world.” He said as his own eyes got a bit misty.
“Show me.” She challenged, even with her voice cracking.
He proceeded to show her how much he cared for her for hours; and when they were done, they whispered “I love you” over and over to one another until exhaustion finally overtook them.
Natasha had never had a more peaceful night’s sleep.
THE END
Translations
Я люблю тебя, Наташа. Мое сердце. – I love you, Natasha. My Heart.
Скажите, Стив. – Tell me, Steve.
Да! Прямо там – Yes! Right there
Ой. Такой большой. – Oh. So big.
Что-нибудь для вас, моя любовь. – Anything for you, my love.