Natsaha loved having her family home. She swore she did. It was always loud in the best way; the house was full of laughter, stories, and reminiscing. Yelena would come back with a dozen new adventures, half of them exaggerated, but all entertaining. Natasha would roll her eyes, pretend not to be impressed, but indulge her anyway. She was a retired mother of six; she needed her fill somehow. 

Sometimes Kate, Yelena’s on-again, off-again girlfriend, would visit, and the kids would swarm her, demanding stories the same way they did with Yelena. But just like Yelena, Kate never stayed long. Always passing through. Always a little untethered.

Her parents were another story.

After five years of living with you, what had started as full-time help had slowly shifted into something looser. They were gone more now, out of the country for months at a time, chasing whatever life they’d decided to reclaim.

Which was fine. You understood that. They still had their own lives to live.

It just meant you didn’t have that safety net anymore. Neither of you had wanted to admit you needed it. Your schedule was too heavy, and she carried most of the weight. You were aware of that. You’d always been aware of that. It was different back when you’d been home more. You would share responsibilities. You would share everything. 

It was just the idea of it, a stranger in your home, full-time. It was why you’d never hired a housekeeper, not really. Not after all this time. But it was starting to show.

Toys littered the hallways. Laundry hung over the banisters. Even the dishwasher sat half full, dirty dishes untouched for too long to justify.

If they didn’t notice the cracks there, they’d notice them somewhere else.

You felt lucky, sometimes, marrying into a family of spies. People trained to see what wasn’t being shown to them. And other times, like now, when everything felt like it was barely holding together, you weren’t so sure.

The kids and dogs were already outside in the driveway, giving their greetings and rounds of hugs. Even the dogs sounded your new guests as you stepped out of the house. You stood back, watching the scene unfold. You could hear low mutters of Russian as Alexei scooped Luke into his arms. Yelena was boasting about her new haircut to the girls, turning to the side for full effect. Melina, of course, seemed to be inspecting the yard, squinting at how high it was getting. For just a moment, everything felt normal. Just like you wanted. 

“There’s my girls,” Melina wondered over, already moving in to hug Natasha. “Natasha, are you eating? What’s going on?” She asked, not waiting for an answer. 

“Of course, I am, Mama.” Natasha rolled her eyes. Though she returned the hug with gusto. 

“You know I could never get her to eat enough protein.” Melina reached for you next. “You look good. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, thanks for asking, Melina.” You nodded. “Can I help you guys with the bags?”

“Oh, of course,” Melina said as she walked back over to her car. “Just don’t touch the green one. It has explosives.”

Your hands paused over the green carry-on bag, wondering how it had gotten through any airport security. You looked at Natasha with a raised brow. She shrugged. “I think we will keep this one in the car.” You said instead of heading back inside. “Max, Midnight, hey, inside.” You called to the dogs as you walked toward the in-law suite. 

“Sister,” Yelena called. 

Natasha barely looked at her. “If you cut your own hair again, I’m not fixing it.” She wrapped her arms around Charlie’s shoulder. 

“It’s called style,” Yelena shot back, tossing her head. Her haircut was short this time, barely reaching past her ears.  “You wouldn’t understand. You’ve been dressing like a suburban yoga instructor for five years.”

Natasha huffed a quiet laugh. “And you’ve been making the same three mistakes for ten.”

“Please,” Yelena scoffed. “At least mine are interesting.”

Natasha finally glanced at her, just briefly. “You’re exhausting.”

“And yet,” Yelena said, stepping closer, bumping her shoulder lightly against Natasha’s, “you missed me.”

“Yeah, Mama, you missed Auntie,” Charlie grinned. 

Natasha didn’t answer right away, but she didn’t move away either.

“…Don’t unpack that bag,” she muttered instead.

Yelena grinned. “So you did miss me.”

“It’s only the first day,” Natasha turned. “Let’s see what the rest of the weekend brings.”

—--------

Natasha managed to stretch dinner for seven into dinner for ten. It was a miracle, truly, with James newfound appetite and Alexei’s right alongside it. It called for a smaller portion size for everyone and added chairs to the dining room table. It was fine. She welcomed the distraction from the monotony that her life had quietly settled into. She’d barely gotten a word in conversation-wise as Charlie talked about dance, or Willow explained getting her CNA license once she was old enough. Still, it was something. She’d been yearning for healthy adult conversation, something beyond schedules and calendars, and she would get more than enough over the weekend. 

Now with the house settled into its usual post-dinner lull, she scooped two hefty scoops of ice cream into a bowl, having pressed start on the dishwasher only moments ago. Yelena was being helpful this time around while sweeping the dining area. You were finished up with tucking Luke in when you barreled down the stairs. You had plans to join her. 

“Any more in that tub for me?” You asked. Natasha looked into the gallon and nodded.

“I think we can make it work,” She said. She reached for another bowl in the cabinet, setting it beside hers, and began to scoop you a portion, not having to ask how much. She was about to pass it to you when the doorbell rang. “Are you expecting someone?” She glanced at the front of the house. 

“Oh,” You shook your head slightly, like you just remembered. “Leslie. She’s coming to pick up these files for work on Monday. She’s taking over the case. It should only be a second. Don’t let it melt?” You backed away. You really hadn’t planned on an interruption to this near-perfect moment. 

“Sure,” Natasha said. She watched as you walked toward the front door. 

“Leslie, hi,” You greeted. “Come in.” You stepped aside, letting her pass. 

“Whoa,” She looked around, impressed by the house. “All this time we’ve been coworkers, and I’ve never been to your house. This is massive.”

Natasha stayed where she was in the kitchen, scoop halfway in her mouth. Her appetite was suddenly gone. Yelena could see her from the dining room, listened to the tone of the newcomer, and decided then not to address her. Whatever it was, it didn't need to be acknowledged now. 

The entire thing was quick. Over before she could dwell on it. Even still, the annoyance she felt was bubbling over more than she liked. 

“Oh, Natasha’s in here, come say hi,” You offered, already guiding Leslie toward the kitchen. Natsaha wiped her hands on her thighs and gave a curt nod. 

“Natsaha, your home is lovely,” Leslie said, giving a soft smile. “I hope I didn’t keep y/n too long. Thanks for letting me steal her for a few minutes.”

“No, no,” Natasha shook her head. “We were just having a little snack. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Leslie nodded. “Just stopping by for a file. I usually never do home visits, but I really need to get this in first thing on Monday. I should be getting back home now. You know how it is.”

“I do,” Natasha smiled, grateful that her visit would indeed be short. “Drive safe.” 

Again, she was out of the house and back to wherever she’d come from. 

“I don’t like your reaction,” Yelena said, not truly caring if the two of you were out of earshot. She stuffed the broom back into the pantry and narrowed her eyes at Natasha. “Is this one of those neighbor situations again?”

“No, nothing like that,” Natasha shook her head. “You would love it if that were the case.”

“Would certainly give me someone to terrorize for a while.”

“Stop,” Natasha passed her the quickly melting ice cream. 

“I thought this was for y/n,” Yelena tilted her head. 

Natasha didn’t explain how she knew you wouldn’t be coming back to the bowl. She simply dumped the rest of hers and headed for her bedroom. “Lock up, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” Yelena agreed. What was going on?

—----------

You made it to bed a few minutes later. Natasha was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth, moving quickly like she had somewhere to be, even though she didn’t.

You stood in the doorway, wondering if she wanted company before committing. It was what you were supposed to do. You began your own nightly routine, working around her, even unconsciously putting your hand on her waist to grab a bonnet from one of the drawers. 

“I’ll be glad when Charlie stops stealing my bonnets,” You muttered. Natasha glanced at you in the mirror, though she didn’t stop brushing. “Did you see Dr. Aris' text about homework?”

“I did,” Natasha nodded. 

“It feels kind of juvenile, don’t you think?” You raised a brow. You didn’t really believe that. Some part of you knew the point. “It’s supposed to get us to connect or something. Then we have to tell her what we did?”

“I don’t find it childish at all,” Natasha shook her head. “I think it’s needed.”

“Well, yeah,” You nodded. You reached around her again for your toothbrush. “I just think we don’t need manufactured moments. I don’t know,” You sighed. “Like in the closet. That was us. It was natural.”

“Yeah,” Natasha followed your line of thinking. “It was.” She said. 

“But,” you finished for her. “I hear a but.”

Natasha rinsed her mouth, setting the toothbrush down before answering. She didn’t rush it.

“…But we don’t get those often anymore,” she said simply. She met your eyes through the mirror then.“And we haven’t for a while.”

A beat.

“And it’s because I’m working too much?” you asked, already bracing.

Natasha didn’t answer right away. She reached for a towel, drying her hands slowly, like she was choosing her words instead of reacting.

“…No,” she said finally. “If I say yes, you’ll hear blame, and that’s not what this is about. Not fully.” She looked at you then.  “It’s because we stopped making space for it.” She reached for the towel again, refolding it, suddenly feeling smaller. 

“It’s not even that complicated,” She said. “We’re just supposed to say one thing. Doesn’t have to be a full sentence.”

“One thing,” You scratched your face, looking up at the ceiling to think, buying yourself a second. For some reason, you knew you had to go first. “I liked that you made me a bowl of ice cream.” You said. “Even if I didn’t get to eat it. Yelena devoured it.”

“She tends to do that,” Natasha nodded. “I offered it to her.” You didn’t want to question why. “I enjoyed seeing your interaction with the kids at dinner,” She breathed. “Luke really misses you.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” You replied. “I’m still here.”

“Yeah,” She said. “You are.” She stepped closer to you, offering you a kiss on your cheek, lingering for a moment. It was your usual these days. The barest form of intimacy. No cuddling. No holding each other. It was less of a commitment. 

Neither of you said much else. You finished your routines in silence, wondering what it all meant. You went to bed together, on your separate sides, wondering what tomorrow would bring.  

—---------

Natasha got to the studio earlier than usual. She only had a few sessions today. Nothing that required too much thought or energy. She juggled a smoothie, her yoga mat, gym bag, and keys in one hand as she opened the doors and let herself in. She was usually the first one there. She liked the quiet. 

Becoming a yoga instructor wasn’t on her list of life goals. It had fallen into her lap all those years ago after Lacey invited the two of you to a class. Natasha made friends with a few of the other moms and liked it enough to come back. Now, she had a clear schedule, balancing her time between this and a few private sessions of self-defense. It didn’t take too much time away from the kids or you. 

It was her entire reason for retiring. 

She stepped back into her studio, number three, the last one on the left, and dumped her things onto the counter space built into the very back. It was where the radio and a few important forms were housed. She didn’t move to turn on the lights, instead pulling her weapon from her thigh, turning quickly to point it at the intruder. 

“Are you really going to shoot me?” Hazel scoffed. 

“You broke into a yoga studio?” Natasha titled he head. “You could go to jail for that.”

“Are you threatening to call the cops on me?” Hazel glanced at the gun, but was not the least bit worried. “You always do that? Pull a gun on your students before you say hello?”

“You’re early,” Natasha said, ignoring her question. She pulled mats from the racks, setting them out on the floor. “You want to be normal. You come like a normal customer. During opening hours.”

“I’m not a child,” Hazel replied, shaking her head. 

“When you’re defecting,” Natasha said evenly. “It’s pretty much the same thing.” She exhaled slowly and then finally looked at her. “I should kick you out.”

“But you won’t,” Hazel shook her head. 

Natasha stared at her.  Hazel was older, sure, but there was something unmistakable there. The newness. The rough edges that hadn’t been sanded down yet.

A freed Widow.

Fresh enough that it still showed.

What Hazel wanted from her, exactly, Natasha couldn’t tell.

And that was the problem.

“One lunch,” She said. “One lunch. You ask whatever you need to ask. Then get the hell out of my life.” 

—-------------

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

One of the easier weekends.

You were trying, really trying, to get back to something that felt like you. Change the routine. Do something different.

So you picked up lunch for the two of you. Natasha’s favorite Chinese spot, the one you went to often enough that they didn’t need to ask for your order anymore.

It felt like a small thing.

But it mattered. You pulled into a space in the lot, balancing the takeout on the passenger seat. This was supposed to be Natasha’s lunch break before her next session. You’d checked the shared calendar, scrolling through the color coding, the sticky notes, the overlapping schedules just to find a window where she’d be free.

It was crazy how much it took just to find time with your own wife these days.

You stepped inside, offering a polite smile to a few passing customers as you made your way to the front desk. Annie, the receptionist, looked up and blinked in surprise.

“Y/n? Hi. It’s been a while.”

“I know,” you said with a small laugh, adjusting the bag in your hands. “I was just stopping by to see Natasha. Thought I’d surprise her.”

“Actually, you just missed her,” Annie said. “She left about fifteen minutes ago for lunch with a client. Do you need me to call her?”

“No, no,” you shook your head quickly, offering a small smile. You shifted the bag in your hands, forcing your tone to stay light. “That’s okay. I don’t want to interrupt. I’ll probably call her.”

You glanced toward the hallway anyway, like she might still be there.

“Client?” you added, almost as an afterthought.

“Yeah,” Annie nodded. “New one, I think. She’s been coming in early.”

“Right,” you said, more to yourself than her.

You adjusted your grip on the bag again. It was still warm.

“Alright. Thanks, Annie.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Tell her I said hi if you see her.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, already turning back toward the door. “Bye.” You gave a small wave.

The walk to your car gave you a little space. You needed to think. It wasn’t a big deal. Lunch with a client wasn’t really Natasha’s thing; she liked to keep boundaries with work. But that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to mean anything.

You didn’t want to call and question her. That would’ve been weird.

Right?

You hadn’t realized when you’d started feeling like this, second-guessing, reading into things that didn’t need it.

You pulled your phone out anyway.

Hey, stopped by for lunch. Missed you. X

You stared at the message, your finger hovering over the screen. Why was it bothering you this much? It was one lunch. One missed moment that hadn’t even been planned.

If anything, this was what you’d been doing to her for months.

You let out a quiet breath.

She was allowed to have a life outside of you.

You exited the message and instead called your mom. You got into the driver's seat, switching to hands-free, so you could drive home. Your hunger could wait. 

“Well, if it isn’t my mysterious daughter,” She answers on the second ring. It’s been a while since you heard her voice, often too busy to return calls. “Long time.”

“Hi, Mama,” You sighed into the phone. “I’m sorry I haven’t answered your calls.”

“Don’t be too sorry, I can take care of myself,” She said. “Can’t forgive you too much,  I haven’t seen your or my grandkids in Atlanta last Christmas or Thanksgiving.” She said pointedly, a light scolding in her tone. 

“I’m sorry, Ma.” You pulled over into the parking lot of a grocery store. It was far enough from other cars for privacy. “It’s just been busy. A lot is happening right now and…”

“And…” She asked. It was almost like she could read your tone and know something was wrong.

 “And…?” she prompted again, softer this time, at your lack of response. “Don’t trail off on me, baby. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip. You allowed your head to rest against the steering wheel, germs be damned. "I don't know. Truthfully, I don't. There's just so much."

“Mhm,” she hummed quietly. “You don’t call me out of the blue to say nothing. Not like that.” You could hear her shuffling around. “Start somewhere. I’m not in a rush.”

"Well, I just went to drop off lunch for Natasha," You clamored. That was the most immediate issue. You looked around, finding a focal point in a nearby tree. "She wasn't there. She was out with a client. She usually doesn't do meetings like that. So, now I'm here with uneaten cold food."

“…And you sittin’ in a parking lot over it?” she said, a small huff of a laugh slipping through. “Girl.” There was a pause. “Did you eat?”

"I did not," You shook your head.

“I figured,” she said, a little hum under her breath. “See, now that’s already your first problem. Go on and eat that food, baby. Don’t be starving and thinking at the same time, you gon’ hurt your own feelings.”

"I don't know why my feelings are hurt in the first place." 

She clicked her tongue softly. “Yes, you do. You just don’t like the answer.” She let that sit for a second before her tone softened.“Ain’t got nothing to do with that girl and her little lunch. You've been feeling something before today.”

"I've been feeling everything before today," You sat back in your seat. If you admitted it to someone other than the two of you, you didn't know if things would change for the worse. "Natasha and I, we've been, um, having problems..."

“Ah,” She replied. She sounded as if she’d been waiting for you to say it. “How long have you been having problems? You talkin’ about a rough week or something that’s been sitting with you?”

"It's been a while," You frowned, blinking back tears. You didn’t want to be so emotional about it. You didn’t want to think of the opposite.  "We're in counseling. Only had one session so far, I don't know. I feel so disconnected at times. I think we both do. The kids are noticing. We haven’t told them anything."

“First off, I’m glad y’all went to counseling. That’s not small. Don’t skip over that like it don’t count.”

You nodded to yourself. It did count for something. It meant a lot. 

“I’m not,” You breathed. “I just can’t help but wonder what we’re doing. What I’m doing…” 

“Secondly,” She said a bit louder to catch your attention. “I don’t think I’ve met any person in a marriage who didn’t run into their issues. Your father and I did.”

“Really? You two always seemed so in love,” You questioned. You decided your nervous system was calm enough to dig into your sesame chicken. It was always a messy fit to eat in the car, and you couldn’t find a single napkin, but you were doing it.

“Love and struggle don’t cancel each other out,” She reasoned. “When you’ve been with someone for so long, sometimes you need to find other ways of tending to the relationship. You said you’re in counseling, right? That shows me you’re still trying.”

“We are,” You said. “It’s confusing. I think she thinks I’m not trying hard enough. I’m working these long hours, and I’m away from the kids, but my job isn’t the only thing.”

“It’s the thing she can see the easiest,” Your mother was wise. She knew just the right words to say to get you to think.  “You leave, you’re tired when you come home, you got your mind on a hundred other things, that’s what she's experiencing. That doesn’t mean it’s the only thing you’re doing, it just might be the loudest.” She softened slightly.

“Have you told her what trying looks like for you?”

At your silence, she continued. 

“Not what you're doing. What you feel like doing?”

"Not really, no," You sighed again. "Mostly, it's been us arguing our points. For the past week its been better, but family is in town. Last night we had something, but Leslie stopped by, and it seemed like she shut down for a minute."

 "Who is Leslie?" Your mother asked.

“My coworker,” You said. 

“Female coworker?” 

“Yes,” You could see where this line of questioning was going, and you wanted to put an end to it. “Before you ask, she’s just my coworker. We’ve gotten closer over time. But nothing to write home about.”

“Closer to your coworker, but you and your wife have a disconnect,” she began. “How does Leslie feel about you?” “Ma,” You groaned. “Please don’t. Leslie is a straight woman.”

“I’m just saying,” She said. “Sounds like part of your problem right there.”

“I can’t just stop being coworkers with her,” 

“Yet, Natasha feels a way about her,” 

Again silence. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” She warned you. There was the scolding again. “You know better than that.”

“I haven’t even done anything,” you said, closing the carton a little harder than necessary. “Leslie and I have hung out alone outside of work maybe twice. Everything else has been with other coworkers or in the building. I can’t be accused of not being faithful again. You remember the neighbor I told you about, right? Natasha was up in arms about her.”

“And she turned out to be right,” your mother said evenly.

“This is making my head hurt, actually,” you muttered, frustration creeping in. “Can you at least be on my side? Yes, Leslie and I are cool. We spend a lot of time together, probably more than we should. My wife and I have disconnected because I’m at work more than I should be. But is everything my fault?”

“Hey,” she said, firmer now. “I am on your side. That’s why I’m not about to just agree with everything you say and let you walk yourself in circles. I didn’t say you did anything. I said pay attention. When you have distance at home and closeness somewhere else, even if it ain’t romantic, that can still hit the same way for the person on the outside of it.”

“I’m trying, Ma,” You said. “I really am.”

“I know you are,” she declared, softer now. “I can hear it. But trying doesn’t always look like what the other person needs. When you get home, don’t defend yourself. Don’t explain your schedule. Just be with her for a minute. Ask her how she’s feeling and listen, not to respond, just to hear her. You ain’t gotta fix everything today. Just don’t keep missing each other. Most of all, take care of yourself. If you’re neglecting yourself, there’s nothing left for anyone else. Work will be there.”

“Okay,” You nodded. “Even if sometimes I feel my marriage is over. Is that dramatic of me?”

“You're scared. That’s what that is.” 

A truth. 

“And when you're scared, everything starts feeling final. Like it’s already done when it ain’t.” You just told me y’all are in counseling. You went out of your way to bring her lunch. You called me ‘cause you don’t know what to do. That don’t sound over to me. It sounds like y’all are just missing each other right now.”

“I do,” You nodded. “I do miss her.”

“So, go home to your wife,” She said. 

—--------------------------------

Natasha was uncomfortable, and she hid it well. She knew Hazel hated that she couldn’t read her, as her eyes were hidden behind her Louis Vuitton sunglasses. She ordered a lemon water and salad, nonassuming and simple. Quick to eat. The food was placed in front of her even as Hazel dipped another of her fries into ketchup. 

She leaned back in her chair, completely at ease, like she belonged anywhere she decided to be. Natasha, on the other hand, hadn’t touched her food.

“You’re not eating,” Hazel pointed out.

“I didn’t come here to eat,” Natasha replied flatly. She took her sunglasses off and put them on the table. 

Hazel smiled slightly at that. “Then why’d you come?”

“Curiosity,” Natasha shrugged. “What does a defective widow, older than me, want with me?”

“You think I need something from you?” Hazel questioned. 

“I didn’t say that,” Natasha denied. 

“You didn’t have to,” She said. She dipped another fry slowly through the ketchup. “How’s the family?” 

“We don’t talk about them,” Natasha was suddenly more serious than she’d been minutes ago. “Ever. Not my wife. Not my kids. No one.”

“No fun,” Hazel sighed. 

“Correct,” Natasha replied. 

“You ever let yourself relax?” Hazel pushed away her plate. 

“Not with strangers,” 

Hazel laughed. “I like you.” She looked out towards the rest of the street. It felt nice to sit on a patio, eat lunch with another person, and talk so freely. “I defected so long ago, but…this feels nice.”

“We have programs for that,” Natasha said. “Melina Vostokoff. She’s organized a widow reform thing. Helps with adjustment.” She notes the way Hazel’s hands fidget when she’s not eating. 

“Yeah, I tried that,” Hazel nodded. “But I didn’t say I was struggling.”

Natasha tilted her head. 

“There’s someone I’m supposed to meet,” Hazel said, looking at her. “She lives here in the city. My daughter.” 

Natasha's eyes widened. 

“She’s about twenty-five now,” Hazel brushed her hair behind her ear. “Lives an easy life. I gave her up when she was a baby. Dreykov didn’t know.”

“How’d you get something like that past him?” Natasha lifted a brow. 

“When you’ve been cycled through the program enough times, you make friends.” She shrugged. 

“Is that why you need me?” Natasha leaned forward. Hazel raised a brow. “Right, you don’t need me.” She corrected herself. 

“I need to know how to talk to her,” Hazel said, more plainly now. “You’re a widow. You have kids. A wife. A family I’m apparently not allowed to mention. I think you’ve got it all figured out. I don’t need help being strong. I’ve been doing that my whole life. I need help not to mess up.”

“That’s tough,” Natasha frowned. “I’m not an expert in family affairs.”

“You don’t believe that,” Hazel disagreed. “I’ve seen you with your wife. Videos and magazines.”

“I guess I’m failing to see how I can help and not a therapist or….”

“No,” Hazel said. “Just coach me.” 

“Can I have time to think about it?” Natasha said. She truly did need to think things over.

—---------------

By the time you got home, you’d had a lot of things to think over. Talking with your mom, while tough, had truly given you the push to make things right. You didn’t want to feel annoyed by Natasha being out at lunch. You weren’t joined at the hip, especially not these days, but you were more than missing her, too. You never stopped missing her. Naturally, when you started feeling overwhelmed, you would bury yourself in work. You would work, and work, occupying yourself with other people’s problems. 

Today, your children wouldn’t let you. You set the untouched takeout on the foyer table, pausing for a second longer than necessary before moving on from it.

“Mommy!”

Luke came first, always did, running into you like you hadn’t just seen him that morning.

“Hey, buddy,” you said, bending down to catch him.

“You were gone,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“I know,” you said softly. “I’m back now.”

“Did you bring food?” He asked, never letting go. You carried him toward the kitchen, looking for the cause of the noise coming from it, as you kicked off your shoes. 

“Yeah, well, I did, but it was for Mama and me,” You explained. “You didn’t eat?”

“I did, but I’m still so hungry,” He lifted his head. “Charlie and Willow are making brownies with Auntie and Baba.”

“You can have some,” You said. You turned back to grab the bag for him. You walked into one of your favorite sights. Paige was sitting at the kitchen table, looking to be practicing her crocheting with Melina. Willow and Charlie were having an easygoing conversation with Yelena about a bag that Charlie insisted she wanted for her birthday. When you walked in, Yelena leaned against the counter, eyeing the bag.

“That looks expensive,” she said.

“It’s lunch,” you replied.

“All that for just you?”

You didn’t answer.

Yelena hummed. “Mm. Interesting.”

You wondered what she meant by that, but didn’t question it. You set Luke into a stool and opened one of the containers for him. 

“Mmm,” He licked his lips as he dug into Natasha’s Mooshu Pork. 

“Mom, please tell me you know about the Mini Kurt Geiger bags?” Charlie questioned. “I’ve been looking at them all day, and I really need one.”

“Yeah, I do,” You stepped in between her and Willow. Willow was busy pouring the chocolate batter into a pan. You dipped your finger into the leftover batter, humming as you nodded. “I have a few in my collection.”

“More than you already have?” Yelena teased. 

“No way,” Charlie squeaked. “Savannah just got one, and I’m pretty sure Tori Elkins did too. Can I please wear one to school on Monday?”

“Yeah, sure,” You shrugged. “It was a gift from a client. Be good with it.”

“Thank you!’ She hugged you tight before racing off to your closet. 

“How’s volunteering?” You asked Willow as she finished up with her dishes. 

“It’s cool,” She shrugged. She was always so nonchalant. 

“Cool as in…”

“Just cool,” Willow answered. “How’s work?”

“Just work,” You mirrored her tone. 

She turned back to the sink, satisfied with your answer, before she scrunched her face. “Have you talked to my dad?”

“No, I haven’t lately, why?” You asked. 

“He proposed to that girl,” Willow seemed anything but happy. 

“Oh, that’s great,” You smiled, then quickly wiped it from your face at seeing her expression. “It’s not great?”

“He talked about wanting me to maybe move back with him to Atlanta when they get married.” She dropped the bomb.

Your head whipped up so fast. “How are you feeling about that? Does Mama know?”

“If you don’t mind, I don’t really wanna talk about it,” She shook her head. “I just thought you should know.”

More than likely, she didn’t want to get into her feelings with everyone around.

“Okay,” you said. “Thank you for telling me.” You got closer to her. “You don’t have to figure anything out right now.”

Willow didn’t respond, just turned back to the sink.

You stayed there for a second, watching her, wanting to say more, but letting it be. The thought of her leaving your house after almost five years of being with you. It didn’t feel right. 

This life was so messy. 

—-------

Natasha got home an hour later. The house had dissipated into a dull hum, and everyone had returned to their respective spaces. You were in the laundry room, organizing the kids' laundry baskets, wondering how it got to be so much. You could hear the opening and closing of the garage door, seeing Natasha walk past before backpedaling. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, taking in the scene.

“Hey,” you replied, glancing over. “Long day?”

“A little,” she said, stepping further into the room. “You?”

“Not really.” You tossed a pair of pink socks into Paige’s decorated basket.

“Annie told me you stopped by earlier,” Natasha said, a little awkward now. “You didn’t text or call.”

You shrugged lightly, not looking up right away.

“I figured you were busy.”

“I would have answered if you called,” She said. 

“I know,” You said. 

She stayed there in the doorway, watching you for a second longer than usual.

“…I would’ve made time,” she spoke.

You paused, a shirt halfway folded.

“I know,” you replied again. “I guess I know how it feels.” You looked over at her. “How many times am I unavailable these days?”

“Let’s not do that,” She said. She stepped up to a basket labeled James. “Do you need help with this?”

“I think we need help with this,” You emphasized. “How do you feel about us hiring a housekeeper and maybe a nanny or two?”

“Well, we were against it for a while, but I think it’d be nice,” Natasha followed your line of thinking. 

“It would take some pressure off you,” You continued. “You do too much of the housework.”

“What brought this on?” She tilted her head. 

“I don’t know,” You said honestly. “Today has just been a day.” You tucked the baskets away, trying to keep your hands busy. 

She reached for your hand, turning you to her. 

“Tell me,” she said, searching your face.

God, she was beautiful.

“Not right now,” you admitted softly. “Can we just… be together tonight? I’ll tell you everything, I just—” you exhaled, shaking your head slightly. “I don’t really have the capacity yet.”

“…Yeah,” she nodded. “Okay.”

And then she stepped closer.

Her hands found your sides, light at first, like she was still figuring out if it was okay.

You stilled, caught off guard by how familiar it felt.

How much you’d missed it.

“Thank you for the food,” she said quietly. “And for stopping by.”

“It was nice being there,” you said, your voice softer now. “Good to see Annie.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Her gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes. She leaned closer, just enough to meet you there. “I really appreciate you trying.” She whispered. 

“I appreciate you letting me,” You whispered back. Her lips were warm and soft, brushing against yours. The pressure of her hands against your side had you swooning as she licked gently at your lips, asking for entrance. You obliged, allowing the butterflies to settle into your stomach. Butterflies that never quite went away but dulled over time. You couldn’t tell if it was you or her that moaned, but it only spurred you on. 

She guided you back toward the counter, hands firm now as she helped you up without breaking contact. Your arms looped around her neck instinctively, pulling her closer like you didn’t want the space back just yet.

And then,

“Hey, Mom, do you think you could wash my jersey while you’re—” James stopped cold in the doorway.

You both pulled apart just enough to look at him.

His eyes widened immediately.

“Oh, ew.” He covered his face. “I thought you guys were done doing that.”

Natasha let out a quiet breath, resting her forehead briefly against yours before pulling back fully.

“We are not done doing that,” she muttered under her breath.

“Well, when you are can you wash this?” He asked. 

“I think it’s high time you do your own laundry,” You gestured to the washing machine, placing your hands back on Natasha’s hips. Everything you were worried about earlier could wait. You could stay here in this moment. You looked down at her lips again, and then back to James as he walked over to the washer and threw his jersey in. “Hey, you, you need to use soap.” You instructed. 

James just grinned, shaking his head like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“And more than one item of clothing,” Natasha chimed in, stepping in beside you like it was second nature.

“Wow,” James muttered, tossing another random shirt in. “So many rules.”

He turned back toward the two of you, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Wait… does this mean you guys aren’t breaking up?”

You blinked.

Natasha stilled beside you.

“Because,” he continued, already backing toward the door, “I definitely have to go tell Charlie and everyone what I just saw in here.”

“James—” you started.

“Don’t run—” Natasha added.

Too late.

He was already halfway down the hall.

Then you looked at Natasha.

She looked at you.

And just like that, you both laughed.

A talk would be coming soon. 

You are not a voyeur. You had absolutely not meant to see Ms. Frost naked. You were just trying to sneak out with Pixie and Anole. Albeit sneaking through the bushes against the building wasn’t the best way to go about that, but you hadn’t even meant to go by her room. And come on, who changes right in front of an open window? You admit that you used your powers to camouflage yourself when you first saw her, but that was more because you didn’t want to be caught.

​

It was only after she turned around that you realized her state of dress. Your mouth watered as you saw her perky breasts and light pink nipples. Your jaw had dropped wide open as you looked lower, though. Her cock had been soft, but you could tell it was big. It looked thick and already averagely lengthened, soft; you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like when hard.

​

Your thoughts had raced as you watched her pick out a white lace underwear set and slowly get dressed. Without thinking, you had slipped your hand into your pants and started playing with yourself. You had gotten so lost in watching her get dressed that you had missed Pixie and Anole leaving, but you hadn’t even cared. Emma’s cock was all you could think about that night.

​

It’s all you can think about, even now, sitting in her class weeks later. She’s walking down the aisle of desks, talking about something, but you can't think about anything but her tight white pants. Her bulge is barely noticeable; you don’t know how she hides such a large member.

​

“Something plaguing your thoughts?” Perfect white painted nails drum on the edge of your desk, and you quickly look up. She’s right in front of your desk, eyes narrowed as she glares down at you.

​

“What? No.” You say, too quickly. She quirks a brow.

​

“I asked you about your reading assignment. The article about mutants pushing their powers past their limits. What was your takeaway?” She folds her arms over her chest, the action pushing her breasts up.

​

“My uhm…” You trail off. You had read the article, but now every word you read vanishes from your brain. “It’s good.” You shrug.

​

“Good?” Ms Frost frowns and drops her arms back to her side. She turns away from you, quickly selecting her next target. “Evan, do you agree with your classmate’s opinion?”

​

“Uh, no,” Evan says and swallows. “I agree with most of the article’s findings. Mutants pushing their power using MGH or other chemicals to progress too fast, too quickly, is very dangerous, and they should progress with their power naturally instead.” Right. Your homework comes flooding back as he explains his opinion.

​

“I completely agree, Evan.” She smiles at Evan before turning back to you. “So, you would say Evan is incorrect, and mutants should use artificial means to push their powers rather than train?”

​

“Well…” you start, “I- no. No. I meant… um-” You trail off, now that she’s looking at you again, you just can’t think. You lick your lips, the image of her bending you over your desk to punish you right here flashing into your brain.

​

“Did you do your assigned reading?” She cocks her head, expression hard.

​

“Yes.” You say your voice rising to defend yourself. The last thing you want is for her to think you’re a bad student. “I did. I just, I’m having some trouble focusing today. I’m sorry, Ms. Frost. It won’t happen again.”

​

“It had better not.” She leaves you with the warning and returns to the rest of the class.

​

But it does happen again, not even a full ten minutes later. It’s not until she's standing right in front of your desk again that you look up from your daydreams of her.

​

“Yes, Ms. Frost?” You try to keep your tone even, but you can tell by her expression you’ve already messed up again.

​

“I’ve called your name five times.” Her mouth is a thin line. Her full lips were hidden by her deep frown.

​

“Sorry.” You mumble and look down at your desk. You can’t bear to look at her face anymore- she looks furious, and it’s so frustratingly hot. You would do anything to make it up to her, and you think of dropping to your knees right in front of the class and taking her cock into your mouth.

​

She hums, catching your attention again, and you look back up, tentatively meeting her gaze. She’s not frowning anymore; there’s a haughty expression on her face you’ve seen before. “Come see me in my office at the end of the day.” Fuck. You can practically feel the smirks of your classmates as you drop your head against your desk. She walks back to the front of the class and resumes class, but your focus is entirely gone now.

​

You don’t hear a word any of your other teachers say the entire rest of the day. It’s like you're sleepwalking until the moment you’re outside her office. You knock twice and shuffle your feet, awaiting her answer.

​

You don’t have to wait long. The door swings open instantly. “Come in.” She says, and you don’t need to be told twice. You hurry into the large office and stand awkwardly as she shuts the door behind you. You swear you hear the lock click into place. “Sit.” She points at one of the chairs positioned to face her desk. You hurry to sit down, doing your best to appease her.

​

Emma circles your chair and takes a half seat on the edge of her desk. She stretches her long legs out towards you, crossing her ankles at the heels.

​

“I’ve noticed you’ve been incredibly distracted in my class, in all your classes, actually, over the past few weeks.”

​

“I’m sorry, Ms. Frost.” You apologize. “I’ve had some trouble controlling my thoughts."

​

“Perhaps I could help. I can go and push those pesky thoughts right out of your head.” There’s a small smile on her face as she offers you help.

​

“No.” You practically shout, and your face flames. The last thing you need is her poking around in your head.

​

“No?” Her expression hardens. “And why is that?” You shiver at her tone; it’s teasing, mocking, an edge of cruelty you haven’t heard directed at any of her students before. “Are you afraid? Afraid of what I might find? Afraid of me finding your dirty fantasies? Oh, you poor foolish boy, I already have.”

​

“Ms. Frost….” You stare at your lap, unable to look anywhere near her in shame. “I’m so sorry.”

​

“For what? For fantasizing about me in class? Or,” she grabs your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at her, “for spying on me in my private quarters.”

​

“I-” Tears well in your eyes. You don’t know what to say, and can’t think of anything to defend your actions. “Please, don’t throw me out of the school.”

​

“Hush, hush,” Emma coos softly, and her grip on your jaw relaxes. “I’m not going to throw you out.” She waits to see the relief on your face before she continues. “I am, however, going to inflict an appropriate punishment.”

​

“Okay.” You nod dumbly in her grip, expecting a month's worth of detention. She smiles sweetly, loving the faraway look in your eye. She hasn’t even tried very hard, and you’re putty in her hands.

​

“Why don’t you stand up and bend over my desk?” She suggests innocently and releases your jaw before standing up and stepping out of your way. You don’t think too hard about it, just stand up and press your hips against her desk, placing your hands on the smooth wood so you’re slightly bent over.

​

You stiffen as her hand brushes your lower back. “You want to be a good student, don’t you?” Her voice is soft; it makes you realize how close she’s gotten. She’s right beside you, her mouth so close to your ear you can feel her breath on your neck. Goosebumps rise over your skin as you nod. “That’s what I thought.” She whispers, and she shifts. You bite your lip, stifling a whimper as she presses her body against your back, leaning over you.

​

“Are you gonna take your punishment like a good boy?” You can’t help your hips; you arch back, pushing your ass back against her hips. “Needy boy.” She hums, and her hand slips around your body. You open your mouth, but no words come out as she slips her hand into the front of your waistband.

​

You spread your legs instinctively as her hand dips lower. She cups your sex, smirking against your shoulder as she feels the way you’re absolutely dripping onto her hand. “Ms. Frost…” You whine as she drags her long pointer finger through your folds before pushing it inside you. She groans softly at the way you clench around her single digit.

​

“You’re so tight, so wet and needy. This is why you’ve been having all those pervy fantasies. Don’t worry, I know exactly what you need.” She purrs as she presses another finger inside you and brushes her thumb against your clit. She grabs your hip with her other hand as you start to squirm and whimper. She grits her teeth as you jerk your hips forward, trying to hump her hand.

​

“No. Just take what you’re given. You trust me, right?” She says, her voice soft in your ear.

​

“Of course, Ms. Frost.” You nod eagerly. She’s your teacher, your mentor, she said she knew what you needed, and you trust her to give it to you.

​

“Then take what I give you.” She commands, and you try to keep your hips still. She thrusts her fingers in and out of you gently while rubbing your clit in soft circles. Your legs tremble as she curls her fingers slightly.

​

“Feels so good.” You moan as you claw at her desk. Tight pressure builds in your lower stomach as you feel your orgasm building. “I’m- I’m gonna-”

​

“No.” Emma snaps and yanks her hand out of your pants before you can protest.

​

“Wait.” You whine as your pleasure is snatched away just as it was starting to build.

​

“Quiet.” She ignores your grumbles as she shoves your pants and underwear down. You shiver as the cold air rushes between your legs. You hear the rustle of her clothes and then feel her hips press back up against you more firmly. You stifle a whimper as her warm cock slaps on your ass. “Arch for me.” She grabs your hip with one hand and your shoulder with the other.

​

Emma angles your hips and pushes your shoulder down, guiding you into position. She slides her cock between your legs, teasing your pussy. “Ms. Frost, please.” You push your hips back against her, feeling achingly empty.

​

“Please, what?” She mutters and drags her hips back and forth, getting her cock soaked in your arousal.

​

“Please, fuck me, Ms. Frost.” You whine.

​

“You’ve fantasized about this a lot.” Emma draws back, grabbing the base of her cock. She guides the head to your entrance and slowly pushes inside you. You moan as her thick cock slips inside you, stretching you out. “I hope it lives up to expectations.” She groans as she jerks her hips forward, burying her cock inside you.

​

“Oh-” You gasp at the sudden intrusion. “So big.”

​

“I know, baby,” Emma mutters and presses her chest against your back. “But this is a punishment, so I don’t want any complaints.” She draws her hips back and slams them forward again, making you cry out. Her nails dig into your hips as she starts thrusting her cock roughly into you.

​

Your arms go limp, unable to support yourself under her brutal thrusts. You collapse against her desk, letting the cool wood support your torso. “That’s a good boy,” Emma grunts as she ruts into your cunt. “Taking my cock so well.”

​

“Feels so good.” You pant against her desk. Her cock feels better than you ever could have imagined. It’s filling you up deliciously with every thrust.

​

“Yeah?” Emma grunts, breathless. “I know how bad you wanted it. I can feel the way your pussy squeezes me, like you never want me to pull out.”

​

“So good.” You moan again. You can’t think of any other words to say; your mind has melted on her cock. You just lie there whimpering, as she slams her cock into you over and over again. Emma grunts behind you, apparently undeterred by the thought of anyone hearing your escapades.

​

“You feel so fucking good.” Emma grunts, and her cock twitches inside you. She stills, leaving her cock deep inside you. You whine softly, a wordless plea for her to keep going. “Don’t be desperate.” She snaps and pulls her cock out of you completely. “Turn around.” She grabs the back of your shirt, yanking you up and flipping you around. Your pants and underwear fall the rest of the way to the ground, and Emma quickly yanks your shirt over your head.

​

She presses her hand on your bare chest, urging you to sit back on her desk. She wastes no time stepping between your legs and wrapping her arms around your waist. Her nails dig into your bare ass as she positions your hips and shoves her cock back into you.

​

The new position makes her cock hit a new part deep inside of you, and you gasp and wrap your legs around her waist. Your face heats up as you feel your cunt leak around her. You’re surely making a mess on the edge of her desk below you, but Emma doesn’t seem to care. She’s too focused on pounding into your cunt.

​

You wrap your arms around her, completely encircling her in your limbs. She hisses as your nails dig into her back through her white blazer, but she doesn’t chastise you for it. She’s happy to give you all the closeness you’re craving, even if your ankles locked together behind her back make it more difficult for her to pull her hips back.

​

“I’m gonna cum.” Emma moans and drops her forehead against your shoulder. Her hips jerk into you feverishly, an edge of desperation to her thrusts as her cock twitches wildly inside you. “Take it.” She groans, and her balls pulse against your ass as she starts to cum. She buries her cock inside you, spilling her cum as deep as she can.

​

You moan at the warm feeling of her cum spreading inside you. Emma’s chest heaves against you as she empties her balls inside you. “Oh, baby.” She sighs and rocks her hips into yours, ensuring every drop of cum ends up inside you. “Such a good boy.” She praises and brings one hand up to cup your jaw.

​

She lifts her head up as she tilts your chin up. She leans forward and presses her lips to yours. You pant shamelessly into her mouth as she kisses you. She takes it as an opportunity to slide your tongue past your lips. Emma guides your jaw as she makes out with you. You feel her cock start to soften inside you, and she exhales softly into your mouth as she pulls it out.

You grimace as her cum leaks out of you, dripping onto her desk. She pulls her lips away as you make the face. “Messy boy.” She drags two fingers through the cum leaking out of you and slowly pushes it back inside you.

​

“Ms. Frost, can I cum?” As good as her cock felt, she hadn’t made any effort to touch your clit.

​

She scoffs as she continues playing with her cum. “You think you’ve earned it? I don’t. Why don’t you clean me up, and then I’ll think about it.” She reaches behind her back and pries your legs apart so she can step away from you. She circles her desk and takes her pants and underwear all the way off before sitting down in her chair.  

​

You hop off her desk, steadying yourself on shaky legs before stumbling after her. You drop to your knees in front of her desk chair, and she spreads her legs, making room for you to wedge yourself between her thighs. Her cock is slick with your combined juices, and you hesitantly stick your tongue out and swipe it over her length. She bites her lip at the stimulation, but she’ll be damned if she tells you to stop before you properly suck her off.

​

You moan softly at the taste of yourself on her shaft. “Don’t lick it. Suck it.” Emma grabs the back of your head and pulls your face forward. She guides you to take the head of her cock in your mouth. Doing your best to follow her instructions, you hollow your cheeks, sucking softly. Emma whimpers softly and pulls your head down.

​

“That’s it.” She urges as her cock stiffens in her mouth. You bob your head shallowly as her cock fully hardens again. That’s impossibly fast, you think, but you’re not about to pull your mouth off her cock to question her refractory period. She grabs your head harder, nails biting into your scalp.

​

She thrusts her hips up into your mouth. You gag as her cock presses against the back of your throat. “I’m disappointed.” She moans as she pulls her hips back and thrusts deep into your mouth again. “As much as you fantasize about sucking my cock, you started by doing a half-assed job.”

​

Tears well in your eyes as you choke on her length. You can feel slimy precum flow into your mouth, but you swallow it quickly. “Oh.” Emma gasps as your throat contracts around her. “Do you want to show me you can do it?” You nod with her cock in your mouth. She releases the back of your head and drops her butt back into her chair. “Then impress me.”

​

You eagerly take over, bobbing your head down her length as far as you can without gagging before pulling back and repeating. You can manage a bit over half her length without trouble, but Emma stares down at you unhappily. “All the way down.” She grabs your head again, deciding  you can’t do it on your own.

​

She pushes your head down, forcing you to take her cock all the way to the bottom of her shaft. You choke and gag on her, but she holds your head in place. “There you go.” She moans. “That’s what I want.” She holds you down a moment longer, till your eyes start to water. As soon as Emma’s hand relaxes, you yank your head off and sputter, drool, and precum spilling from your mouth.

​

You catch your breath for a moment before wrapping your lips back around her tip. You take a deep breath through your nose before pushing your head down. You force yourself to take her cock all the way down this time, nose pressing against her abdomen. “That’s it.” Emma sighs and relaxes in her chair.

​

You suck her off with desperation. She’s right, you have fantasized about this so many times, the last thing you want to do is disappoint her. You want to make her cum so bad. Emma rests her hand on the back of your head. She doesn’t push you, not really; she would classify it as guiding you in the pace that feels best for her.

​

Your mouth feels amazing on her cock, and she can’t fight the urge to fuck up into it for long. Her hips buck up into your mouth repeatedly. You fight the urge to pull away, letting her fuck your throat. You gag and choke, but she helps motivate you by holding your head in place. You breathe through your nose, gasping every time she pulls her hips back.

​

Emma throws her head back, lost in pleasure. Her balls slap against your chin as she thrusts into your warm mouth. “Such a good boy.” Emma moans, and you feel the veins of her cock pulse on your tongue. “Good boys swallow.” Is the only warning you receive before a shot of salty cum hits the back of your throat.

​

You gag, but Emma holds your head down and continues jerking her hips up into your mouth as she cums. She leaves you no choice but to swallow her load. You gulp down her cum, only prolonging her pleasure as your throat massages her shaft. Finally, she lets you pull your head off of her cock with a wet pop.

​

You lick your lips, trying to get the slimy feeling of her cum out of your mouth. Emma hums as she stares down at your swollen lips, dripping with spit and her cum. “Can I cum now?” It seems fair to you- you’ve made her cum twice now. That should be more than enough to make up for your behavior.

​

“No.” Emma shrugs. “There’s something else you can do for me first.” She smiles softly at the hazy look in your eye, your desperation for her is so obvious- you would do anything she said, even without the help of her powers. You lean back as she stands up, looming over you. She steps around you and leans over her desk, resting on her forearms.

​

The new position makes Emma’s ass stick out towards you. “Lick.” You spin around, facing her butt, and lean forward to lick a stripe up the back of her cock. “No.” Emma’s stern tone stops your tongue halfway up her cock. “Not there.” You try again, tilting your head so you can lick the underside of her balls. She shivers at the contact but snaps again. “Not there.”

​

You’re rapidly running out of options; there’s only one more place she could mean, right? Hesitantly, you lift your hands up and grab her ass. You stick your tongue back out, licking softly over her asshole. It twitches under your tongue, and Emma moans softly. “There you go, smart boy.”

​

Satisfied you made the right choice in pleasing her, you lick again. Emma drops her head into her arms and pushes her hips back into your face. You squeeze the tight muscles of her ass as you press your tongue against her harder. You slip the tip of her tongue just inside her tight hole and wiggle it back and forth. “Getting a little bold, aren’t we?” She mutters.

​

You tear yourself away from her ass. “Sorry, Ms. Frost.” You say quickly before diving back in. Emma groans as your tongue stimulates her anus. You lick repeatedly, lapping at her as she breathes heavily against her desk. You’re vaguely aware of her arm moving her hand between her legs.

​

You have no idea how her libido is so high, but she slowly starts jerking herself off as you eat her ass. You don’t know how long it goes on, just know that you’ve made a sloppy mess of her ass. Your spit has made her asshole absolutely shine, and the sloppy sounds of your tongue and lips fill the room alongside Emma’s soft pants.

​

“Fuck. I need to fuck you again.” She stands up abruptly, and you fall back against the rug. She runs her nails along your spine as she kneels behind you. “You gave me a wonderful idea. So glad I had the idea to keep this in here.” She mutters to herself as she pulls open a desk drawer. You look behind at the small bottle of lube in her hands.

​

You doubt you need it. You’re absolutely soaked. You can feel yourself dripping down your thighs and, no doubt, onto her rug. Emma hums to herself as she opens the bottle of lube and drips some onto her fingers. “Relax for me.” You ignore her words, tensing as she presses one slick finger against your asshole.

​

“Wait.” She ignores your gasp and slips her long finger inside you. “Ms. Frost, that’s-”

​

“Hush. This is a punishment, remember. You need to take what I give.” You moan softly as she begins gently thrusting her finger in and out of you. She waits until you relax around her to add a second finger, and you bite your lip at the stretch. Emma scissors them open inside you, stretching you further. You wiggle your hips, trying to squirm away.

​

“Ah ah.” Emma tuts and grabs your hip with her free hand. “Let me get you nice and ready, or it’ll hurt a lot more when you take my cock.”

​

“Wait, wait, Emma, you can’t.” You protest through gritted teeth.

​

“Emma? Why so suddenly informal?” Emma tuts and adds a third finger inside you. “You think you can call me Emma just because my fingers are in your arse?”

​

“S-Sorry, Ms. Frost,” you whimper.

​

“That’s better.” She praises and eases her fingers out of you. You’re left feeling empty for only a moment. She quickly smears lube all over her hard cock before pressing the head against your ass. “Still so tight.” She grunts as the head of her cock slips past your tight sphincter.

​

You gasp and dig your nails into her rug as she pushes her cock a little deeper. “Em-” You whine and try to squirm away.

“What did I say?” Emma’s nails bite into your hips, and she slams her cock forward, burying it to the hilt inside you. A strangled sob comes out of your throat as she splits your ass wide open. “You will call me Ms. Frost. You haven’t earned my name.”

​

“I’m sorry, Ms Frost. It just hurts so bad.” You cry.

​

“Shhh.” Emma releases your hip, running her fingers soothingly up and down your back. “If it didn’t hurt a little bit, it wouldn’t be a punishment now, would it? So just be a good boy and take it.”

​

“Okay.” You whimper. “I’ll take it.”

​

“That’s right.” She coos and pulls her hips back before gently thrusting forward again. She groans and slowly pulls back and thrusts in again.

​

She starts slow, making sure to let you get used to her thick cock. But after a couple of minutes of gently rocking her hips into, her thrusts start slowly getting rougher and rougher. They get harder and harder until her hips are slamming into yours with every thrust, her balls slapping against your dripping cunt.

​

“Want you to cum with my cock in your ass.” Emma grunts and wraps one arm around your waist. She stuffs two fingers into your cunt and presses her palm against your clit. You moan loudly as she stuffs both your holes. You feel so full, and her palm feels amazing on your clit. After being denied for so long, she brings you to orgasm embarrassingly fast.

​

“I’m gonna cum, Ms. Frost.” You groan. “It feels so good.”

​

“Cum for me.” Emma keeps fucking you with her cock and fingers while you hump against her hand. You cum hard, legs shaking as you clench around her. She moans as your ass squeezes her cock, but tries to focus on letting you ride out your orgasm. It’s the hardest you’ve ever come, and it makes your limbs weak.

​

Your arms and legs tremble with the effort of supporting yourself. You start to warn her, but she thrusts into you again, and you collapse. Emma doesn’t complain, just follows you down. She lets you lie limp against the ground behind her desk as she keeps slamming her hips against your ass.

​

She moans like she doesn’t care who might hear her. “Gonna make me cum.” She gasps suddenly and slams her hips down into you. She buries her cock inside you, grinding against your ass as she starts to cum. Her cum feels warm as it flows inside you, still filling your ass up despite her previous orgasm. She humps your ass a few more times before her hips still.

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“Such a good boy.” Emma murmurs and slowly pulls her cock out of you. You both wince as she frees her cock, and her cum starts leaking out of you. She collapses beside you on the rug with a sigh. She opens another cabinet drawer and pulls out a towel. Emma carefully wipes off her cock before setting the towel on your butt.

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She catches her breath for a minute before pulling herself up. You lie limp at her feet as she puts her pants back on. She squats down beside you and carefully wipes your bottom between your legs. You flinch away from the contact, but she gently wipes you down. “Lift your hips a bit.” She whispers once she’s done, and you grumble but scoot your hips up.

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