Nick Fury had a talent for pissing Steve off.
The super soldier was on leave. His wife was now 36 weeks pregnant, and he wanted to be by her side when the baby comes. That meant no missions. Somehow, the man didn’t seem to grasp the concept. Or the fact that he was no longer the Director.
Steve slammed the phone down on his desk, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. He had just guided the younger members of the team through a mission plan without any reference maps or files or any information of the kind. Despite the fact that Natasha and him had trained them for exactly this, he couldn’t help but worry. Which only added to his stress levels.
Steve got angry and stressed a lot lately. Natasha’s pregnancy wasn’t going as smoothly as they had hoped, even though Dr. Cho had warned them of complications in the beginning. Sam had been badly hurt on a mission that normally Steve would have accompanied him on, but had to go solo due to Steve’s commitments at home. Fury hovering on his shoulder still pretending to be master of the universe even years after the fall of SHIELD only added to his burden.
He heard the door open and the quiet shuffling of feet. Despite the heavy load of pregnancy, Natasha walked - waddled - as gracefully and as silently as she did before. He looked up to see her tiredly approaching him, one hand placed delicately on her lower back. She was wearing only a white cotton button down shirt - his shirt - and a pair of dark grey socks. The last few weeks, she had taken to wearing his shirts and nothing else at home, and the material always dwarfed her, covering her entire protruding belly and the tops of her thighs.
“You should be in bed,” he told her, even as he rolled his chair back and turned sideways to accommodate her on his lap. It took her a few moments to find a comfortable position, but she settled down sideways on his lap and leaned into him, resting her into on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her large frame and sighed. Just holding her in his arms was enough to relieve some of the tension from him.
She huffed in mild irritation. “I’m sick and tired of that bed,” she complained. She buried her nose into the crook of his neck and inhaled his manly scent. “Besides, I was too cold without my personal heater in bed with me.”
Steve chuckled and only pulled her in against him tighter, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “This may come as a shock to you,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “but that’s kind of what happens when you walk around in nothing but a thin shirt in the middle of December.”
The fingers resting on his side pinched him. Hard. “You not allowed to sass me right now. I’m carrying your baby.” She ran her hands up his chest, to his shoulders and around his neck, feeling the stress and the tension coiled tight in his muscles. She subconsciously rubbed at a tense knot at the base of his neck. He groaned and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. “Fury bugging you again?” She asked, though she already knew the answer to that. Only two people could really rile her husband up like that - Tony Stark and Nick Fury, and Tony was too deathly afraid of the hormonal assassin to do anything as stupid at the moment.
Steve heaved a sigh and lifted his head to look back at her. “Someone needs to give that man a reality check,” he said, leaning back into his chair. “I left Sam and Rhodes in charge, not him. He cannot just send my team into missions blindly.”
She rubbed her hand along the broad expanse of his shoulders comfortingly. “You know,” she drawled, smirking teasingly, “stress isn’t good for the baby.”
“Oh yeah?” He was smiling back at her now, and she was glad to see. He suddenly- but gently - jerked her back into him and buried his face into her neck. She let out a giggle as he placed ticklish kisses along the arch of her neck and her jaw. “Well, what would you prescribe for me then, Dr. Romanoff?”
“Well…” she pretended to think deeply, her fingers dancing down his chest. They settled between his legs and squeezed, making him jump slightly. “I do have a few recommendations.”
“Nat…” he croaked out, voice suddenly dry as every single inch of him lit up with arousal from that one simple touch. “We shouldn’t -”
“Shh,” she kissed him gently with puckered lips, a kiss he had no problem responding to, “Dr. Cho did say sex was allowed as long as it wasn’t too rough.”
She rolled her hips on his thighs, feeling her own wetness pooling in her panties and seeping through her - his - shirt and onto his sweatpants. He groaned against her lips and pulled them in for a more passionate kiss. When they broke apart, Nat was panting hard, her face flushed and warm. This had been a much enjoyed perk earlier on in the pregnancy - her getting turned on so easily.
“We can’t risk -” he started, but she cut him off.
“Steve, I’m not asking you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow. I just want my husband to make love to me.”
She was looking at him heatedly, cheeks red and lips swollen and parted and pupils blown with unadulterated need, and he felt his resolve slowly crumble. She saw that, saw his lust for her pour out through cracks in his concern for her health and the baby’s health, and she took advantage of his moment of weakness. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips to the side of his neck, just under his ear and beside his jawline - a particularly erogenous zone.
He whimpered and gave in to her, lifting her up in his arms and kissing her almost desperately. He pushed his chair back and stood up, still carrying her, the angle awkward due to her massive bump in between them. He started walking towards the door, but she stopped him.
“No, no, wait. Here.”
“On the desk,” she breathed, her voice low. “I want to do it right here on the desk.”
“Please, Steve,” she moaned into his ear, and he did not have it in him to argue. He held her with one arm and shifted aside whatever materials lay on his desk and delicately placed her on the hardwood surface. The immediate contact of her body with the cold surface made her shiver, and Steve pulled away.
“Hold on,” he said as he sprinted out, leaving her staring after him in frustration. He returned not 10 seconds later with two cushions. She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile as he adjusted the pillows under her. “So, where were we?” He asked cheekily, and she huffed out a laugh and grabbed the front of his shirt as she pulled him in for a fierce kiss.
Despite the passion burning in them, their lips moved slowly against each other. His hands settled on the sides of her thighs and slowly pushed the shirt up and over her hips. They lingered on her thighs, thumbs rubbing soft rhythmic circles along the inside, slowly building up the heat radiating from between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let her fingers knot in the hair at the back of his head.
His hands moved up her thigh, and he pressed on finger to her centre, putting just enough pressure onto her swollen clit through the drenched panties, and she broke the kiss and whimpered. One of her legs rose and she tucked a toe into the back of his sweatpants and pushed the material down. He took the hint and pulled away long enough to get rid of his pants and pull her underwear off. Their shirts remained in place - there was nothing more erotic than making love to his pregnant wife while she was wearing his shirt.
His cock was weeping for her. Weeks of abstinence made his hunger for her only grow. Grabbing his erect length, he bent his knees a little to align the tip with her wetness. Her belly got in the way of fulfillment, so Natasha laid back on the desk to grant him better access. She was more than ready for him, and they both moaned at the feeling of being joined together again after the long dry spell.
His first thrust was gentle, testing, but it hit her deep. “Oh God, yes!” she gasped, eyes falling shut of their own accord. Slowly he fell into a rhythm that was comfortable for them both while giving them the pleasure they craved. Steve leaned over her, one of his hands holding her leg at his waist while they other rested on the desk-top for support. He pecked her lips, before trailing his lips down to her chest. He pulled the white cotton aside with his teeth and released one breast before wrapping his mouth around the elongated nipple. She keened and arched her back, pushing into him as much as her frame allowed, the fingers clenched in his hair holding him in place. The filling out of her breasts and their increased sensitivity was another perk of pregnancy that they had fully enjoyed over the past few months.
It didn’t take long for the heat at the base of his spine to build. Natasha’s moans grew louder too, and he knew she was close. He straightened up and grabbed both her legs and shifted them around his hips and pulled her closer into him, onto him. She hissed in pleasure as the movement shifted him deeper into her, and he started moving just a tad bit faster. The slight increase in friction held her right on the edge of release, and he brought his thumb down on to her clitoris and pressed on it hard.
It spent her spiraling, her orgasm gripping her with a staggering force. “Oh God, Steve!” She cried as white hot pleasure washed over her, clouding her vision and making her buck against him. Her inner walls gripped his cock painfully, and with a few more thrusts he was spilling into her, his orgasm one to rival hers. He chanted her name throughout as after weeks of holding back, he finally found his release.
When he came back down, her thighs were quivering around him, and she was looking up at him through hooded eyes and a sated expression. Their eyes met, and she gave him a wicked, exhausted smile. “So, did you find Dr. Romanoff’s cure for stress...satisfying?”