nothing - steve and natasha

i love you three

Nat was sure she wasn't feeling well for two weeks straight that's why she decided (and Steve so hardly insisted) that she takes a leave of absence from work. She hasn't been eating much and even a few sips of water will render her sick and vomiting inside the bathroom, and she even grew some weird bumps by the lining of her gums a week ago, the reason why Peggy immediately assisted her to the dentist. And now, that same woman is coming to their house to fetch her. She just called, and it seemed like it was something important.

It's been three days since she's been resting and doing wife duties for Steve who attends in the camp every day. But more than that, they have been spending the days and nights making love, like it was a cure to her moody illness. Every time she sees her husband, she just wants to ravish him and it's already unhealthy to say how much she's been craving him like she craves his peanut butter sandwiches.

Yesterday night has been one hell of a session, and right at this moment, she sat on the couch, reading a boring newspaper while wearing Steve's uniform. Nothing's changed, she still loved stealing his stuff and wearing them whenever she feels uncomfortable or misses him or both—because she feels morose when she misses him, which has now become a mood swing. The shirt wasn't buttoned up completely, making it more loose than it already is, leaving some room for her bare shoulders to be revealed and a few inches of the skin of her chest exposed. If her husband sees her wearing this right now, he'll do exactly as he did the night before—that is ripping all of what she wore apart, lead her somewhere they'd find fun to do it, and then praise every inch of her until they're both sent to heaven.

She smiled at the thought, even blushed. Just in time, because the editorial page where she's currently reading on right now contained Steve's photograph, and thinking of his duality—being her incorrigible mate when they're alone and a serious super soldier when he's with everybody else—makes her bite her lip. How evolved had she made her then-virgin work partner to this insatiable man who never fails to give her what she wants and what they both want. Having him attend to her for the span of her weird-cravings-plus-weird-symptoms phase has been perfect, especially that he's the only cure to her temporary bipolarity and not to mention the only person on earth who she wants feeding her anything. If not for him, she would've been dead of starvation out of pickiness and stomach grumbles.

Halfway through absentmindedly staring at his picture, three knocks came echoing from the front door. She stood up in reflex, trusting the sound it made because she knew it's Peggy. She can smell the strong scent of her raspberry red lipstick. God, even her nose is starting to weird out.

Hair's a mess on top of her head, and she's wearing nothing aside from Steve's shirt that looked like a long dress for her. She hasn't slept because of what occurred the night before but she didn't mind fixing herself as she opened the door.

"Morning, Peg," she even yawned, eyes half-closed in front of the ever so stunning agent, wearing her usual formal attire and an orange-colored hat to avoid the early-April sunshine. The deep red on her lips smelled even stronger for Natasha now that the lady's in front of her.

Peggy squinted her beautiful brown eyes, scanning the curly redhead from head to toe. "Have you been eating anything or have you eaten something last night?" She asked, emphasizing the word 'something'. If her lips are red and inviting, Natasha's are swollen and well-kissed. She's getting laid, too, of course, that's how she knows that.

She knows even more than that because she knows what's happening to her Russian friend.

"Steve might've made me eat something," Natasha mischievously answered, then stepped aside. "Come in here, I'll prepare coffee."

Peggy stepped past the threshold as Nat walked to the kitchen. "I'm British," she informed, answering with a chuckle.

Tea, of course.