A/N: Just a warning this fic contains AOU spoilers. So please don't read if you don't want to have a serious plot point ruined. Thanks! Also: this is entirely Jessy's fault for suggesting this and then making my brain combust when I imagined it.

Cap had told him to walk it off, and while the rest was all rather scientific, involving a quickened metabolism that offered him enhanced healing and a heart that skittered too quickly to ever stop, and really it didn't matter to her.

Natasha's slim fingertips flickered over his bared chest, dancing over the scars that were the last remaining reminder of his heroics at Sekovia, the light from the half-moon in the window making his already pale skin translucent, his skin smooth against her own. A low hiss left him when she dug her nails into the one furthest scar down his pelvis, his eyes blue bright as they met her own green ones, his tongue flicking over his lips as he watched her full mouth twist into a smile. One of his hands stroked the side of her cheek gently, calloused fingertips abrasive and not entirely unfamiliar. They'd been working on assembling and disassembling weapons today, timing him and making bets at whether or not he'd be as quick at that as everything else. She shivered with the memory of watching the blur his hands had become take apart the sniper rifle in three and a half seconds, and reassemble it in even less time.

"A little sensitive?" she brought her mouth down to the reddened half-moons she'd left in her wake, felt him tremble, hummingbird quick, beneath the soft kiss she pressed there. Her warm breath brought gooseflesh rising around his navel, and with her spare hand on his left thigh she felt them travel further south after she pressed another kiss to his hipbone.

"You take a couple bullets and tell me you're not a little jumpy about it," his accented words lilted lightly between the pair of them in the silence of the small room they'd taken residence in, the others having gone to bed long before. Not them, though. Natasha didn't find much sleep lately, didn't care to be lying still for too long anymore. Pietro was a lucky find, she supposed, letting her lips slip further down towards his thickened cock, his trousers having fallen to the ground some couple minutes ago along with the rest of her clothing. One of his hands slid into her hair, tugging at the red roots until she felt herself groan with the sensation. He sat up, trailing the fingertips of his other hand down the curve of her spine, aiming to cup her ass, but when she took him in her mouth he went rigid. His gasps flickered out of his wide mouth, the same mouth that had a nasty habit of lipping off whenever he didn't particularly care for the mission objective, or their orders. She'd had to take him aside-had to catch him and take him aside, to be precise-to talk to him about it on more than one occasion, her eyes sharper than tempered steel and words biting as she worked to mold him into a Shield agent. A New Avenger.

He'd not taken well to her admonitions, but she hadn't quite lost her touch when it came to reading her team. Finding what worked best. Turned out his mind blanked entirely with her lips wrapped around his dick and her tongue running up the vein on the underside, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Hard. She felt his hesitation, the half-second lag before his hand tightened in her hair and his hips bucked upwards slowly, considerably. She was grateful for that. The first time she'd taken him like this, Pietro having been prone beneath her, dazed from her having kissed him half back to death, he'd been unable to stop himself and she'd lost her breath and feeling in her jaw for longer than she was entirely comfortable with. He'd learned, and she caught his gaze once more, offering him an appreciative smile before pulling away from his cock with a slurp that sent a shudder down his body.

"You sure you can handle this?" Her tongue ran over her already wet bottom lip, catching his gaze before her top teeth sank into it. It didn't last long, it never did, and he pressed closer to her in a blur, his mouth finding hers and devouring her alive. His hands shifted to her hips, fingers tight enough to leave bruises, and with a strength that she never would've guessed from first seeing him (though really it made sense when she thought hard enough about it) he lifted her up and slotted her hips just over his. The head of his cock, still slick with her saliva, pressed against her already soaked slit. Pietro grinned.

"Excited?" he asked against her lips. The vibrations traveled through her like an earthquake, and she bit her tongue as he slid her down, sheathing him entirely in one swift motion. Stars danced in her vision, her mouth falling open as he kept hold of her hips and kept up the punishing pace he seemed to be most accustomed to. Not that she didn't appreciate it, but she wanted more than just that that evening.

"W-wait, Pietro," she groaned, her head tipping forward before he stilled beneath her. Tension made his body seize, and she looked up to catch the confusion in his eyes and the question that leadened his brow. "Just lay back. Let me."

Her right hand fanned on his chest, gentle as she pushed him backwards, watching the confusion morph to curiosity as he followed her orders, muscles shifting beneath the smooth expanse of skin before her. More than once she wondered if he even bled, or if he would simply burst into starlight if he was cracked open. The rational part of her knew this to be ridiculous, as she lifted herself slowly onto her haunches, swiveling her hips to take him back inside her once more. Still, laid out like this he looked ethereal to say the least. Imaginary, even. He gasped, eyes widening, white-blond hair sticking to his forehead as he reached out a hand to grasp her breast. She cupped the back of her hand with her own palm, smiling and molding his hand to her full breast, massaging the tissue slowly, showing him how her back arched and her breath left in short huffs when he flicked his thumb over the nipple so that it hardened.

"Like that. Slow," she teased, eyes hooded as she rocked back and forth, the pace anything but what he was used to. She watched with great pleasure as the color began to rise in his cheeks, as his air came in short huffs and his eyes glazed with pleasure. Her skin slid with ease against his, and she rolled her hips once, twice, every so often just to throw him off. She didn't have to know Sokovian to understand the curse that tumbled from his lips as she felt herself beginning to tighten over him, didn't have to watch the quickening pulse jump in his throat as she started to bounce herself up and down atop him in earnest. He palmed both of her breasts as she did, and her right hand slid down her abdomen to play with her clit, thumbing it gently to set herself off with a short gasp.

As her body seized around him, and her own rhythm stuttered, he took over, not needing his hands in order to jackrabbit his hips upwards, quickening the pace and fucking her through her orgasm until she could hardly catch her breath. Slow, she supposed, could only last so long. For as quick as he was, he never came as soon as she expected, as though his orgasms were the only slow thing about him. He wouldn't hear her complain about that, and she actually whimpered when he finally came. His hands had left her breasts and found her hips once again, back arching and mouth straining in a wide gasp as he filled her, and she leaned in to run her tongue and teeth down the pale column of his throat.

"See? Slow's not so bad," she gasped when he'd finally relaxed beneath her.

His snort ruffled the red curls that'd tangled from when he'd ran his fingers through them, and she smiled as he rolled her over to her side, still within, and sluggishly wrapped an arm around her. She'd give him another ten or so minutes before he was ready again. She slung her top leg around his hips and buried her face in his chest, the heat and steady beat of his heart keeping the time between them until he was ready for round two.