This fulfills my first bingo square "Hurt/Comfort". For @marvelbingo on Tumblr. Enjoy xo

Pairing: Steve/Natasha

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Oral sex, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Power dynamic, Steve on his knees (yum)

Warnings: Emotional pain/Depression

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Steve was in the shower in his clothes. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first in a while. When he woke up and found himself seventy years in the future, when he heard that Peggy was in an old folk's home, after the mess that was Manhattan- every time shit went sideways he couldn't coordinate his limbs enough to get his clothes off completely. He needed to wash it away, to get clean, and right now he felt disgusting. 

There was a knock at his front door. He could only hear it because of the serum, and he used that excuse to ignore it. Whoever it was wasn't Bucky, and that thought hurt too much. Steve's knees buckled and he sank to the floor of the shower with a thud that cracked the tile. He was drowning under the sludge of water, couldn't breathe, couldn't open his eyes.

Only after a long minute of internally screaming for help did he realize it wasn't because of the shower that he couldn't breathe. He wasn't drowning in water; he was drowning in a dark hope that he'd refused to let himself harbor since the moment he woke up. 

Another knock, at the bedroom door this time. Sam was too polite. Maria was too professional. It had to be Natasha. If it was Natasha, she didn't need his permission to come in. He didn't have the energy to extend it anyway. 

How was it possible? He'd been so close.

"Steve?"

She'd made it past the door. Steve gave himself ten seconds before she found him there on his knees in his khakis and t-shirt, drench in the shower and crying silently. Ten seconds to...what? Wipe away the tears? They were permanent trenches in his cheeks. Instead, he lowered his head and let it happen.

Natasha came into the bathroom with another, "Steve?" When she saw him through the glass door, she sighed and sat on the closed toilet seat. They were both quiet for a long time. Steve knew Natasha wasn't judging him, but the shame and the vulnerability were on clear display, and it wasn't a position Steve found himself in often.

Finally, Natasha stood up from her seat and said, "I'm coming in, Steve." Steve didn't acknowledge she'd spoken, but then, she didn't expect him to. The assassin undid the buckle over her zipper and then slid the teeth open all the way down to her navel before slipping the catsuit off her shoulders and to the floor, leaving her bare. 

She opened the shower door slowly, telegraphing every moment, and stepped inside to turn the water off. When Steve didn't move, she gave his back a gentle push. He inhaled sharply at the touch but took the hint and scooted forward to give Natasha room to sit behind him. She gracefully slunk down to the shower floor, legs bracketing Steve's wide back. She weaved her hands under Steve's arms and wrapped them around his shivering waist.

"Hey, there," she murmured, lips pressed to his back. She felt Steve's hand squeeze hers and knew she was getting through, words or not. She kissed along his back, shoulder to shoulder, in no hurry and with no plan. The soldier lifted his head so slowly that it seemed too heavy for him. It felt that way. He let it fall again, but backward onto Natasha's slim shoulder. 

"Hey, there," he finally answered, voice scratched and broken from crying. 

In reward, Natasha smoothed the hand Steve wasn't clenching up and down his wet, clothed inner thigh soothingly. "Talk to me?" she asked, couldn't demand; it wasn't her right. Steve's head turned and he pushed his face into her cheek. Natasha couldn't tell if the wetness was tears or shower water. He wasn't ready to talk. "Okay, then. We've got to get you out of these wet clothes though, babe."

Steve made a discontented sound at that proposition, to which the redhead cooed. "I know, but we need to. I'm right here." She stood, her hands staying somewhere on his body at all times, and then tucked her hands under Steve's arms to coax him up. He came willingly but it was mostly dead weight and the fucker was heavy. 

Once she'd gotten him to stand, she opened the shower and pulled Steve out with her. "Take your clothes off. I'll go get you some-"

"No," Steve gasped, low but there. "Stay."

How in the world was she supposed to say no to that? "Okay, babe. I'm here. Want help?" Steve nodded but didn't move. By help, he must've meant he wanted her to do it all. She instructed, "Lift your arms up," to get his sopping shirt off over his head. His arms flopped back to his side and he continued to look out over Natasha's shoulder, blindly seeing nothing. 

"I'm going to take your pants off now," she warned but of course received nothing in return. She unbuttoned his khakis and then pulled the zipper down. It was riding that thin line between professional and intimate and Natasha didn't want to choose a side. She pushed her hands inside both waistbands and pulled his pants and underwear down in one go, trying to make the process as quick as possible.

Steve grunted at the cold air that washed over his wet skin but only lifted his feet obediently when Natasha tapped them. At least he wasn't still wearing his shoes and socks. He had to give himself some credit. When the redhead stood up again he realized she was naked, too; it made him swallow dryly. He wasn't looking directly at her, but he could see the general curves and smooth expanse of skin.

Natasha thumbed behind her to his closet. "I'm going to get clothes for us."

Steve reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer and wrapping her in a hug, a hug he'd needed since the moment he'd locked eyes with Bucky on that highway. She made an understanding sound and looped her arms around him, too. He squeezed her tight, almost desperately, and buried his face in her neck. "He was right there," Steve mumbled. 

"I know," she admitted, sounding shaken herself. "You're sure it was him?" Natasha was beating herself up for not getting a visual on the man, though she knew in her heart of hearts that Steve was right.

Steve squeezed her tighter, nails digging into her skin. "I'm sure."

"Okay," she allowed easily, she didn't come to debate anyway. "Tell me what you need, Steve." He was shaking his head; she could feel the ruffle of his wet hair against her shoulder. Natasha gripped at his back muscles. "Tell me what you need, Steve," she repeated, more firmly, leaving no room for question.

"I can't-" he breathed, a hiccup in the words.

"Can you show me?" she wondered.

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing against her skin with how close they were pressed, before loosening his hold on her. He pulled back enough to look at her, really look at her for the first time since she came in his room, and nodded. 

"Okay, good. What do you need?"

Steve inhaled a shaky breath, preparing himself. Then, he slowly sank to his knees to the bathroom mat and wrapped his arms around her hips, hands gripping onto the smooth skin of her ass and burying his face in her thick patch of hair. Natasha inhaled sharply, somehow surprised by the move even though she should've seen it coming.

"Oh," she allowed, her hands hovering over Steve's shoulders. "This is what you need?" she questioned one more time to be sure. Steve nodded, nose brushing up and down across her pubic hair, before pressing his lips to her hood. Natasha instinctively widened her stance at the first sign of pleasure, which pleased Steve if his hum was any clue. 

"Okay, babe," she permitted. "Go ahead."

Steve took the grant for what it was and scooted forward to curve his back and get his face under her. His wide shoulders pushed her legs further apart until they were shoulder width and he had the space to kiss down the seem of her lips. Natasha smiled easily at the gesture, hand going to Steve's drying mess of hair. The blond brought his hands around to pull her labia open and lick a strip up the pink inside of her channel. 

Pleasure rarely got Natasha off anymore. She'd been trained out of it a long time ago. What she really got off on nowadays was the desire in her partners. The more they wanted her, the hotter she got, and Steve wanted her. Bad. Natasha huffed a breath when the blond closed his mouth around his clit and flicked his tongue lazily. "Just like that, babe," she cooed and pushed his head harder against her.

Steve moaned long and greedy like he was the one getting head and used one thumb to push into her wet opening. Natasha clenched down on it, loving the rough pad that brushed against her walls. Steve slipped the palm of the same hand between her ass cheeks, rubbing a dry finger against her asshole while his thumb pumped in and out, pulling her juices with it and making them drip down her labia. He was sucking at her clit like a lollipop, lips puckered around her and tongue swiping methodically over the nub. 

In the next moment, Steve's hand that wasn't inside her left her labia and gripped the back of her thigh, picking it up easily and lifting her leg over his shoulder. Natasha moved with the change flawlessly, leaning into him and pressing his finger deeper. "Oh, Steve," she moaned, rolling her hips against his mouth. 

Steve hummed, happy for the praise, and dipped just the tip of his long pointer finger into her asshole. The redhead clenched down hard in surprise and felt the arousal rush through her gut and up inside her vagina. Steve was stroking inside her on each pull out and picking up the pace of his thumb inside her as well as the movement of his tongue. Natasha's mouth went slack as her eyes slipped closed.

She was going to enjoy this whether she meant to or not. She gripped a handful of Steve's hair in her hand and used it to ride his face, slick, wet lips against slick, wet lips. Steve groaned, shoulders shuddering. "Stick your tongue out. Firm," she instructed, and the blond followed her order. Natasha reached down and spread herself wide, fitting his fat tongue against her snuggly, and rode him as her orgasm built. 

His fingers were still inside her, but he kept them still now, just letting her own movements push his thumb deeper, faster, and his finger teased her tight ring. The burn was sizzling in her stomach, making her bite down on her lip. Fire licked at her muscles; it seemed to stem directly from the damp rough texture of Steve's tongue that caught on her clit with each pass. "Jesus, Steve," he murmured, amazed at the feeling as she tightened up and spilled over his tongue and thumb.

Steve moaned again and took over briefly when Natasha lost her coordination, licking up her release and fucking her furiously through her orgasm. Natasha shuddered over him, back bowing and stomach quivering. "Yes, yes, yes," she breathed, lost in the surge of pleasure.

Her shudders turned to languid rolls and Steve's pace slowed, easing her into the aftershock. She was panting, chest heaving, when she pulled her leg down from Steve's shoulder and let his fingers slip away. Steve stayed there, on his knees, while Natasha caught her breath, looking up at her with a content smile on his face. 

She took a couple of deliberately deep breaths before looking down at him. "Wow," she greeted, voice rough. Steve just smiled wider and pressed his face back into her now wet pubic hair. She grunted and put her hands to the back of his head, holding him there as long as he needed. 

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As well as these Bingo squares, I am looking for requests. If you have something you want me to write, let me know!

Comment if you enjoyed it, and there will be many more to come. Mwah! Xoxo, Jess