Untitled

One thing that was different, was relationships. Friends, romance, even just a teacher-student relationship. Sure, you all considred yourselves sisters within the confines of the Red Room, but at the end of the day it wasn't real. You weren't really sisters by blood, more like bonded through a shared hell-like life. But it was never said out loud, never recognised. You could have it used against you, a vulnerability. Something you have to kill.

Here, though, at this high school in New York, it was different. Girls walked in large groups, chattering down hallways. People kissed, laughed, held hands. They wouldn't last a day in the Red Room.

One girl, you realise, has taken a particular interest in you. She sits with you at lunch, helps with your homework since your learning is a little behind, laughs at anything you say.

So you decided to ask your big sister, who had experienced more of the world than you had. "Nat!" You call loudly, the apartment door clicking behind you.

"In the kitchen," Natasha replies.

You drop your backpack beside the couch and follow her voice. Natasha stands at the counter chopping vegetables, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It still amazes you sometimes; the former Black Widow, one of the deadliest women in the world, making dinner. "School okay?" she asks.

You shrug. "Fine."

Natasha glances over her shoulder immediately. Fine usually meant something was bothering you. "What happened?"

You sit on one of the stools at the kitchen island, swinging your legs slightly. "There is a girl."

The knife stops mid-chop. Natasha slowly looks up. "A girl." You nod. "A problem girl?"

"No."

"A bully?"

"No."

Natasha sets the knife down completely now. "Okay. Tell me about the girl."

You think for a moment. "She sits with me at lunch." Natasha hums. "She helps me with homework." Another hum.

"She laughs at my jokes." Natasha's lips twitch. "Even when they're not funny."

"Maybe you're hilarious."

You ignore that. "She walks with me between classes."

"Mhm."

"She gave me one of her cookies yesterday." Natasha is openly smiling now. "She said she likes spending time with me."

The smile grows. "And?"

You frown. "And what?"

"That's it?"

"Yes."

Natasha stares. You stare back. Then Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose. "Oh, God."

"What?"

"She has a crush on you."

You blink. "A crush?"

"Yes."

You genuinely look confused. "No."

Natasha laughs. "Yes."

"No."

"Y/N."

"She is being friendly."

"She is flirting."

You fold your arms. "I know what friendship looks like."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "You spent your first week at school convinced the librarian was adopting you because she remembered your name."

"She was very nice."

"She worked there."

You huff slightly. The concept still feels strange.

In the Red Room, nobody gave gifts because they liked you. Nobody spent time around you because they wanted to. Everything had a purpose. Everything was a test. A weakness. A weapon. Not... affection. Not because someone simply enjoyed being around you.

Natasha's expression softens immediately when she notices you growing quieter. "Hey."

You look up. "She likes me?"

"I think so."

"Why?"

The question comes out genuinely confused. Natasha pauses.Because that was the real issue. You still didn't understand why anyone would choose you. Not after everything. Not after the Red Room spent years teaching you that love was something people exploited.

"Because you're smart," Natasha says. You immediately make a face. "Because you're funny." You make the same face. "Because you're kind."

"That seems unlikely," you continue. "I've done...not good things."

Natasha's expression softens. "So have I." You look up. "That doesn't mean we're only the worst things we've ever done."

You almost smile. Natasha points a carrot at you. "There it is."

"What?"

"That thing."

"What thing?"

"The reason people like you."

You frown.

Natasha smiles. "You don't even realize you're lovable." The words hit harder than they should. For a moment, neither of you speak. Then Natasha reaches over and bumps your shoulder gently. "Do you like her?"

You think about it seriously. "She makes me feel... comfortable." Natasha nods. "She remembers things I tell her." Another nod. "And I like when she sits with me."

The smile on Natasha's face becomes almost impossible to hide. "Congratulations."

"For what?"

"I think you might have a crush too."

Your eyes widen. "Oh." A pause. "Oh no."

Natasha bursts out laughing. "Welcome to being a normal teenager, sestra."

Wanda woke up by some noise from the hall, she went up and checked if someone was there and it was.. you who was trying to put your rain coat on and boots.

Wanda: Little one, what are you doing?

You look at her and point to the door and try to show you wanna go outside and play in the rain.

She just chuckled and ruffled your hair a little before picking you up.

Wanda: Don't you think it's a little too early to play outside?

You: No!

Wanda: No? Really huh, how about we get something to eat before heading out to play?

You just nodded and took your rain coat and boots off before walking to the kitchen table and sitting down and waiting for Wanda to make some sandwiches and something to drink.

The rain starts getting more than before, you look at those mud puddles that you wanna do much

jump in.

You immediately eat when you get the sandwiches.

Wanda: Hey hey! Take it easy before you choke on those.

You: sorry..

Wanda: It's fine, sometimes we are little in a hurry to fast, just take your time then we go outside.

you help her with the dishes and you love how she uses her powers.

You: Are you finished??

Wanda: Almost , just wait a little.

You went to your room to get your elephant plushie with you and tried to put your rain coat and boots on again.

Wanda: Here let me help you with the coat.

Her motherly voice made you feel safe.

She opened the door and you immediately went over to the mud puddles and jumped up and down. She sat on the swing she had built for you two under the roof.

You notice that your plushie got all dirty from the mud, tears start to build up.

Wanda notices that you are about to cry.

Wanda: Honey.. come over here.

You walked over to her and sat next to her and handed over your elephant to her.

Wanda: Maybe we shouldn't play with elephantine outside in the rain, he will get all dirty.

You look at the plushie and place him on the swing where you sat and went back to the puddle.

Wanda sat and read a book and drank some tea while you were having fun until you fell into the puddle, she immediately went over and picked up.

Wanda: hey it's okay.. you just lost the balance there.

She dried your tears and took your plushie and walked back inside.

You: Bubble bath.

Wanda: You want a bubble bath?

You just nodded and tried to escape from her arms.

Wanda: Alright.. I get the bubble bath ready and I'll clean the elephantine for you, so go get undressed while I fix the rest.

You just nodded and took off your clothes quickly and went back to the bathroom.

Wanda: Almost ready.

She picked you up and placed you in the water you started to splashed around like normally.

You felt how she started to clean your hair from all the mud.

After a while she pull you out from the tub and she found some clothes and pull up just incest of any accident.

You two are lying on the couch she read a book for you in Sokovian before your afternoon nap.

You were on a redemption tour of sorts.

You wanted to be intentional with your family again. You needed to be.

Your kids were growing right before your eyes, and while you’d always been active and involved, that wasn’t necessarily what they appreciated most from you. Not really. Quality time had always been the thing that kept your family close. It was how you stayed in the know.

You’d always silently judged parents who didn’t know their teenager’s favorite music, best friend, or what they were nervous about lately. You’d scoff at the fathers at the firm who bragged about only paying a couple of hundred dollars in child support, like it was a badge of honor instead of embarrassment.

You weren’t that type of parent.

You never would be.

Today was about Paige.

Charlie had bragged endlessly about the basket she got when she first got her period. It had become somewhat of a tradition after Cara. But for Paige, you knew a basket alone wouldn’t really do it.

Which was how the two of you ended up at Off The Record, a small mom-and-pop record store tucked into the city, smelling of old paper sleeves and incense.

Paige was your youngest girl and, unsurprisingly, the most detached in a way. Independent. Reliable. Sometimes, too much so for a child who was only nine going on ten.

Sometimes you missed when she used to cling to your leg every waking second, wanting nothing except to be wherever you were.

Now she wandered.

Browsed.

Built little pieces of herself privately.

You looked over at her now as she stood at the counter, seriously explaining to the cashier what kind of music she liked while flipping through stacks of CDs. Paige was taller now. Long-legged and expressive with her hands when she got excited. Her hair was pulled into two pigtails that bounced every time she turned her head.

“…and my sister says Lauryn Hill changed her life,” Paige informed the poor cashier with complete seriousness. “So I probably need to hear that too.”

You smiled to yourself before looking away quickly, suddenly overwhelmed by how fast all of this was happening.

“Mom,” she called suddenly. “I’ve never listened to a full Mariah Carey album before, have I?”

“We’ve listened to some singles, but never a full album, no,” you shook your head.

Paige gasped softly like this was a genuine parental failure.

“So can I get that too?” she looked up at you with wide puppy eyes. “And maybe Taylor Swift? Oh, and Beyoncé. I’m old enough for her music now, right?”

“I’d say no, but I won’t deny you the queen,” you leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

Paige grinned triumphantly before immediately turning back toward the shelves.

“How much is all this going to cost me?” you muttered, finally glancing down at the price tag on a Michael Jackson Off the Wall vinyl nearby.

Your eyes widened. “Forty dollars for one record?”

Paige blinked innocently beside you. “You said whatever I wanted.”

“I always tend to eat my own words.” You mumbled. 

“You’re the best mom ever,” She bounced on her toes. 

You snorted softly under your breath, shaking your head as she carefully pulled another vinyl from the rack. Watching her here, excited, curious, growing into her own little person with opinions and taste and favorites, made something ache warmly in your chest.

This was what you’d been missing. 

The next stop was a boba tea shop. Boba was her new obsession, and though you weren’t a big fan, you wanted to indulge her. Paige amazed you in more ways than one. She and Charlie were little fashionistas in their own ways. While Charlie was more New York chic, Paige, meanwhile, took a softer approach. Vintage denim jackets. Colorful sneakers. Hair clips shaped like stars and butterflies. Though the purse she carried was no doubt her older sister’s. You wondered if Charlie even knew. 

You watched her now as she carefully stirred her drink with concentration, brows pinched. 

“What?” She looked up immediately, catching you staring.

“Nothing,” you smiled into your own drink. “You’re just getting big.”

Paige groaned dramatically. “You say that every five minutes now.”

“Because every five minutes you grow another inch.”

“That’s not scientifically possible.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” she slurped loudly from her straw. “I’m literally in advanced science.”

You laughed softly, leaning back into the booth.

Outside the window, people passed by without much thought, the city moving around the two of you like always. But for once, you didn’t feel rushed to catch up to it. Cincinnati was supposed to be slower than New York. It was supposed to be your break from the big life you left behind. 

Paige reached into the record bag again, peeking down at her choices for what had to be the tenth time already.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I think this is my favorite day we’ve had in a while.”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Me too.” 

Paige seemed to blush, then hid her curiosity by taking another sip of her drink. 

“You want to ask something?” You guessed. She seemed a bit surprised, but then rolled her eyes at herself. You’re her mom, of course, you could tell. 

“Do I look like her?” Paige asked, kicking her feet under the table. “My mommy. My birth mommy. Karen.” She felt the need to clarify. “Halmeoni always says I do, but I don’t know.”

You knew how important it was to answer truthfully. “Yes. You do.” You try to hide the sadness still in your voice. Thinking bout your best friend always brought a sense of melancholy. “You have her eyes, “ you continued. “Especially when you’re annoyed.”

Paige snorted softly.

“And your smile,” you added after a moment. A smile of your own spread wide across your face. “That little crooked thing you do when you’re trying not to laugh? That’s all her.”

Paige looked down into her drink, strangely shy now.

“She was really pretty,” she mumbled. “I mean, from all the pictures I have and the videos.” 

“She was,” you agreed instantly. “And loud. And dramatic. Like someone else I know.”

That earned you a laugh.

“She sounds fun.”

“She was,” you smiled softly. “She loved really hard, too. Especially you.”

The smile on Paige’s face faded into something smaller. More thoughtful.

“You think she’d like me?” she asked quietly. 

Your chest tightened so fast it almost hurt.

“Paige,” you reached across the table for her hand. “She would’ve been obsessed with you. She was obsessed with you. ”

Paige blinked quickly after that, looking away toward the window before you could fully catch her expression.

“And she didn’t die because she gave birth to me?” She asked. That question practically knocked the wind out of you. What was it with your kids and asking incredibly hard questions at random times?

But Paige was getting older now. Of course, the questions were changing too.

You squeezed her hand gently before answering.

“No, baby,” you said carefully. “No.”

Paige looked back at you immediately, searching your face to see if you were telling the truth or just trying to protect her feelings.

“Your mom got very sick after you were born,” you explained quietly. “And the doctors missed some things they shouldn’t have.”

Even now, years later, anger still flashed low in your chest when you thought about it too long.

“But you are not the reason she died.”

Paige’s eyes dropped again.

“Not even a little?”

“Not even a little,” you repeated firmly.

The boba straw bent between her fingers as she messed with it absentmindedly.

“I think about it sometimes,” she admitted. “Like… if she didn’t have me, she’d still be alive.”

You got up from your side of the booth before you could think twice about it, sliding in beside her instead.

“Oh, Paige,” you pulled her into your side immediately. “Listen to me.”

She curled into you without resistance, suddenly looking much younger than she had when walking through the record store earlier.

“Your life was never something bad that happened to her,” you murmured into her hair. “You were the best thing that happened to her. To all of us.”

Paige stayed quiet after that, small against your side as the city moved outside the window beside you.

“You really mean that?” she whispered eventually.

“With everything in me,” you answered.

“Sorry for making this sad,” She said. “I know that’s not how you want to spend your time off work.”

Your face softened immediately.

“Hey,” you reached up to move one of her pigtails from where it had fallen into her face. “This isn’t sad to me.”

She looked unconvinced.

“It’s important,” you corrected gently. “There’s a difference.”

Paige picked at her straw. “I just don’t want you getting tired of me asking about her all the time. We don’t talk about her a lot anymore.”

“Oh, baby.” You pulled her closer again without hesitation. “I will talk about Karen with you for the rest of my life if that’s what you need.”

That seemed to hit her harder than expected. She blinked quickly, trying to keep herself together in the way your kids always did when emotions caught them off guard.

“You know what your mom used to say when she was pregnant with you?” you asked softly.

Paige shook her head against your shoulder.

“She said she hoped you’d be stubborn enough to survive this family.”

A tiny laugh escaped Paige before she could stop it.

“And look at you,” you kissed the top of her head. “Bossing me around in record stores and spending all my money.” 

“I’m glad you and Mama aren’t getting divorced,” She admitted. “We were really scared.”

“Me too,” you confessed. “Your Mama and I love each other and you guys too much.”

“Good,” Paige said. “Sometimes I miss it. Like when we first got here, and Cara was home. We would do all these things together.”

“Well, your birthday is next week, and I have it on record that we will all be together.” You promised. “Mama and I will try to make an effort to keep those family things going. Movie nights. Dinners. All those board games we have are collecting dust.”

“And Charlie hates me sometimes,”

You sighed softly through your nose.

“Yeah, I heard about that,” You nodded. “I’m not too happy with how that’s going between you two. I thought we solved it.”

“I guess,” Paige shrugged. “She acts like she doesn’t even want to be my sister sometimes.”

“You sound just like her with Cara,”

 Paige’s face twisted immediately. “That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

She groaned, already knowing where this was going.

“You and Charlie are a lot alike,” you continued. “Too alike sometimes. And when sisters start growing into different versions of themselves, there’s usually some bumping around.”

“She’s quitting ballet,” Paige frowned. “That’s something we always did together. I mean, I even joined because I wanted to be like her.”

You smiled at that. You remember Charlie being so excited to take her younger sister to school. 

Paige pushed her drink away.  “She’s changing,” she admitted quietly. “Everybody is.”

The honesty of it sat between you. You reached over, smoothing your hand over the top of her hair.

“Baby,” you said softly, “your sister growing up doesn’t mean she’s growing away from you.”

Paige looked unconvinced. “But things are different.”

“Yeah,” you nodded honestly. “They are.”

You looked out the window for a second before continuing.

“When Cara left for college, Charlie cried in her room for two days straight.”

Paige blinked. “Seriously?”

“She made Natasha drive her to campus three separate times in one month because she ‘forgot something.’”

“I did forget things,” Charlie had insisted every single time.

Paige smiled at the memory.

“Families change,” you continued quietly. “People get older. Interests change. Schedules change. But that doesn’t mean the love leaves with it.”

Paige rested her cheek against your shoulder then, quieter now.

“I don’t like it.”

“I know,” you kissed the top of her head. “Me neither sometimes. Neither do your siblings. But we’re working on it. Hey, ask her to help you with last minute things about your party. I bet she’ll answer.”

“That’s a good idea,” Paige nodded. “Can we go to one more place? The bakery on Scott?”

“Sure, we have time.”

“Great, I have ideas.” She said. You wondered what she was cooking up. 

—-----

It was a great day to be outside. For Natasha, this meant sitting on the sidelines, watching as Luke and James attempted to teach Max and Midnight new tricks. She sat stretched across one of the patio chairs with her bare feet tucked under her, a pen balanced between her teeth, and her yoga manuals spread out before her. Every few minutes, she would underline something, scribble in the margins, and then glance back out at the yard. 

“No, no, you have to say it with authority,” James snapped his fingers so Midnight would sit. 

“Midnight,” Luke squared his shoulders. He deepened his voice and said, “Roll over.”

The dog barked once and sprinted off in the opposite direction. 

Natasha smiled into her book. They’d be at this a little while longer. 

The backdoor slid open behind her.  Yelena stepped out carrying a bottle of water and one of Natasha’s protein bars she definitely hadn’t asked permission to take.

“You know,” she said as she settled into the chair beside her, “watching you become suburban has been one of the strangest experiences of my life.”

Natasha didn’t look up from her notes. “You say that every time you visit.”

“And every time it becomes more true.” Yelena gestured vaguely toward the yard. “You’re outside annotating yoga books while children train rescue dogs. You used to fall asleep in vents.”

“I’ve never fallen asleep in a vent,” Natasha scoffed. 

“Twice you did,” Yelena shrugged. “Once in Venice.”

“You and I remember that differently,” Natasha flipped through another page. “How long are you here for again?”

“Until Kate is done visiting with the Bartons,” Yelena tore open the packaging of the bar. She bit into it, her nose scrunching at the taste. “Tastes like chocolate chalk and ass.” She dropped it onto the table between them.

“You would know what that tastes like,” Natasha muttered without missing a beat. 

“You’re so funny,” She rolled her eyes.  “So,” She said casually. “I can’t help but notice your wife is not home,” Yelena looked around the yard. The boys were playing some kind of game of tug-of-war with the dogs and James’ t-shirt. “Again.”

“She’s with Paige,” Natasha closed the book against her knee. She looked at Yelena fully. 

“Funny, I didn’t see her kiss you goodbye this morning,” She said. 

“Why don’t you come out and say what you really want to know?” Natasha raised a brow. 

“No, ice cream together. No disgusting cuddling on the couch,” Yelena began to list off. “No displays of affection that make me want to hurl. I would say your marriage is in trouble.”

“You’d make a wonderful spy,” Natasha shook her head. She looked back into her chair. “My marriage is not in trouble.”

“But it’s not like normal? Tell me I’m wrong,” Yelena threw up her hands. 

“You’re not wrong,” Natasha sighed. “We’ve become disconnected. But we’re trying. Actually, we were supposed to have this talk with you together.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes.  “You think I couldn’t handle the truth.”

“I think you’re our child by proxy at this point,” Natasha shrugged. “You tend to dig your nose into our marriage anyway.”

"Hey, it's traumatic when you two stop flirting? The whole house becomes cold.”

Natasha laughed despite herself, shaking her head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I am serious,” Yelena pointed at her. “You and Y/n are like… weirdly in love. It’s unsettling. So when that disappears everybody notices.”

That quieted Natasha a little. Her eyes drifted back toward the yard where Luke had now wrapped himself around Max like a backpack while James argued with him about “proper dog training techniques.

“It didn’t disappear,” Her voice was even softer now. “At least that’s what I keep telling myself. She’s been busy with work.” “So, it’s her fault?” Yelena tilted her head. 

“No,” Natasha denied. She fiddled with her hands. Very uncharacteristic. “I think it’s been building up for a while. Starting with me after that mission.”

“That was five years ago?” 

“She mentioned it in an argument,” Natasha nodded. “I mean, would you really expect your wife to get over saying you wanted to abandon her and the kids? Especially without telling them?”

“You did that?” Yelena gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I almost did,” Natasha said. “I wasn’t in the right headspace after that mission. Wanda had to step in and find me, but…there’s a reason I don’t like magic.” “But why didn’t you want to come home?”

“I didn’t feel like me anymore,” she admitted finally. Her fingers twisted together again. “And when I looked at them…” she swallowed. “I loved them so much it scared me.”

Yelena’s face softened immediately.

“I thought if I came home like that,” Natasha continued quietly, “I’d ruin everything.”

“But you still stayed,” Yelena pointed out gently.

Natasha looked back toward the house. Toward the kitchen windows. Toward the life inside it.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment.

A small, almost disbelieving smile crossed her face. “Because apparently I love my wife more than my own self-destruction.”

“And this now is payback?” “I think it was an indicator we needed counseling together,” Natasha breathed. “We still made time. We still had our moments, but we both got too busy. Too wrapped up in emotions and jobs and the kids.”

Yelena leaned further back in her chair, staring up at the sky dramatically. “This is all way too mature for me,” she declared. “I liked it better when relationship problems were just somebody cheating or getting arrested.”

Natasha snorted softly. “You’re thirty-four.”

“And still emotionally nineteen.”

“That explains a lot, actually.”

Yelena ignored her. “I just…” she sighed, glancing over again. “You two have always felt permanent to me.”

“You know what the weird part is?” Natasha asked after a moment.

“What?”

“I don’t think either of us realized how bad it got until we stopped touching each other.”

“No more couch cuddling?” Yelena grimaced. “Tragic.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite behind it this time. “I’m serious,” she murmured. “We stopped reaching for each other.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” Yelena asked. “Wait, too mature, again. Don’t tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Natasha laughed. Her sister was genuinely unbelievable at times. Though in her own head, she probably couldn’t tell her a date. There was still work to do. “I met this widow,” she changed the subject. “She has a kid, and she wants me to help her meet the kid.”

“Why you?”

“I asked the same thing…” Natasha exclaimed. She was happy for the topic change.

—-----

Paige stood right next to Charlie’s bedroom door for a long moment before finally knocking. She could hear music permeating through the door. It was slow and calm.  

“What?” Charlie called through the door. 

“It’s me,” Paige answered. 

“Go away,” Charlie said. 

Paige rolled her eyes. Typical. “I have something for you.”

“What kind of something?” 

“Open the door and see,” Paige knocked again. “I’m going to drop it.”

The door finally cracked open just enough for one suspicious eye to peek through. Charlie’s curls were piled messily on top of her head and she was sporting black eye liner and mascara. 

“You’re annoying,” she mumbled.

“And yet you opened the door.”

Charlie sighed dramatically before opening it wider. Paige stepped inside, balancing a box of macarons and two cups of matcha from the bakery. 

“I picked these up when I went out with mom,” Paige set them on the desk. “These are your favorite right?”

“They are,” Charlie’s eyes lit up. “So, did you do the whole period basket thing.”

“I got vinyls,” Paige shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Wait, that’s way cooler,” Charlie gasped.

“I know,” Paige grinned. 

 “I still think it’s weird you kept it a secret from everyone,” Charlie bit into a macaron with a frown. 

“It wasn’t really a secret,” Paige tilted her chin defensively. 

“Then what was it?” she asked. “I mean… weren’t you scared?”

Paige was quiet for a second longer than expected.

“A little,” she admitted eventually. “But mostly I just didn’t want everybody acting weird around me. I already knew what to do.”

“But you didn't come to me,” Charlie looked over at her. “We tell each other that stuff.”

“I don’t know,” Paige shrugged again. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, okay,” Charlie let her have it. “Is that the only reason you came in here?”

“No,” Paige took another macaron for herself. “I wanted to talk about my birthday party. I was wondering if you could help me dye my hair.”

“You’re going to dye your hair?” Charlie’s mouth dropped. “Dude, moms will kill us both. You’re turning ten, not sixteen.”

“It wouldn’t be permanent or, like, my whole head,” Paige defended quickly. “Just maybe the front pieces. Or underneath.”

Charlie stared at her for another second before narrowing her eyes thoughtfully.

“…What color?”

Paige grinned immediately, knowing she’d won her over a little. “Maybe dark red?”

“Oh, that would eat,” Charlie admitted before catching herself. “Wait. No. I’m supposed to be responsible.”

“You literally have a Pinterest board called hair inspo.”

“That is private information.”

Paige laughed into her drink. 

Charlie watched her for a second after that. Really watched her.

“You’re getting big,” she mumbled.

Paige groaned loudly. “You sound like Mom.”

“Well, you are.” Charlie reached over, absentmindedly fixing one of Paige’s pigtails where it had started coming loose. “It’s weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“True.”

“Maybe we could do a little trim too. I’m good with scissors,” Charlie pretended to search for them. 

“No way,” Paige shook her head. 

“Okay, I’ll do it,” Charlie said. “But we have to ask Moms. I’m not getting grounded over this.”

“Fine,”

—----------------- —-----------------

The first thing Natasha noticed when she stepped into your shared shower was the delicate gold anklet wrapped around your left ankle. Tiny little charms glittered against damp skin every time the water hit it. It was new, and she wanted to question where you got it from, but it seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

You were carefully scrubbing around it as you hummed softly to yourself, completely unaware she’d followed you in.

For a second, Natasha just watched.

The steam curled around you, your braids pinned messily up away from your face, one of her oversized shirts abandoned somewhere on the bathroom floor outside the glass doors.

“Can I join you?” She asked, finally.

You jumped slightly, hand flying to your chest as she stepped inside anyway.

“Natasha!” you laughed breathlessly. “You scared me.”

“Mhm.” Her hands settled automatically at your waist once she was close enough. “That was the goal.” She didn’t mind the hot water splashing against her back.

You rolled your eyes, though the smile stayed as warm water splashed against both of you now.

Natasha’s eyes drifted downward again.

“When did you get this?” she asked quietly, kneeling so that her thumb brushed against the anklet.

You looked down like you’d forgotten it was there.

“Oh,” you smiled softly. “A few weeks ago. I picked it out when I went shopping.”

Natasha hummed at that, still tracing absent patterns against your ankle underwater.

You tilted your head slightly at her silence.

“What?” you asked softly.

Natasha just shook her head once before leaning down to kiss your calf.

“Nothing,” she murmured against damp skin. “You’re just pretty.”

“Just pretty?” You pulled her into your arms. The steam made your cheeks flush, or maybe it was the look in her eyes, or the feel of her bare skin against yours. “Nat, you’ve called me a lot of things over the years. Just pretty feels like an insult.”

A slow smile spread across her face. She reached up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Alright then. You’re devastatingly beautiful. You’re the kind of beautiful that makes people forget their own names. Better?”

You pretended to consider it, tapping a finger against your lip. “Hmm. Getting warmer.”

Natasha laughed, a real, unrestrained laugh that echoed off the glass walls. She pulled you closer, water streaming between your bodies. “Fine. You’re so beautiful it physically hurts me sometimes. There. Are we done rating my compliments now?”

“Depends,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss her jawline. “Are you trying to get lucky?" It sounded sexier in your head, and you both knew it, sharing a smile between the two of you. "It's been too long."

"Eight months," She said, closing her eyes after a particularly hard nip at her throat. "But who's counting?"

"Is that why you came in here?" You questioned. "To talk about my anklet and how pretty I am?"

"No. I came in here to see how long it would take to get you on your knees." Her response was quick, and you shivered despite the steam.

"It's a shame. You beat me to it." You whispered.

The water continued its steady rhythm against your skin, but Natasha’s focus was solely on the way your body moved against hers. She let out a shaky breath as your fingers traced the line of her collarbone, down between her breasts.

She bit her lip. This was what she had been wanting for so long. "I need..." The redhead started.

"I know, baby," you murmured against her skin. "I know."

Her hands tangled in your braids, gently guiding you back to her lips. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but it quickly deepened into something more desperate. Months of unspoken tension, of carefully maintained distance, melted away under the hot spray of the shower.

Your hands roamed her body with a confidence that made her tremble. You knew every sensitive spot, every place that made her gasp into your mouth. When your thumb brushed against her nipple, toying with the jewelry piercing both ends, she arched into your touch with a soft cry.

"I've missed this," she whispered against your lips. "I've missed you. I wanted it to be more special for us. Dinner. Candles." Her speech was broken by pants as your other hand traveled lower, tracing patterns on her stomach.

"We can have dinner tomorrow," you murmured, nipping at her earlobe. "Or I could make you wait."

"You could," She nodded. "I came in here to be with you. Not for sex."

"Hmm," You nodded. Natasha pulled back slightly, her green eyes dark with desire and something deeper. That unwavering devotion that had defined your relationship from the beginning. She watched you for a moment, her expression uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"You still want me, right? Even after everything? After my stupid pride and the distance and..." Her words faltered as your fingers continued their torturously slow descent.

"Every day," you said simply, and it was the truest thing you had ever spoken. "Even when I was angry with you, I still wanted you."

That was all the encouragement she needed. Natasha surged forward, pressing you against the tiled wall of the shower as the water cascaded over both of you. Her kisses grew more demanding, her hands exploring every curve of your body.

"I love you," she gasped between kisses. "I never stopped. Not for a second."

Your response was lost in a moan as her teeth found your shoulder, biting gently before soothing the skin with her tongue. Your fingers finally reached where she wanted them most, and Natasha's knees nearly buckled at the contact.

You found her clit with ease, circling slowly at first, building tension with each pass. Natasha's head fell back against the tiles, water streaming down her face and neck as she surrendered to the pleasure you were giving her.

"Fuck," she whispered.

The water began to cool as you brought her closer to the edge. Your other hand came up to cup her breast, thumb and forefinger rolling her pierced nipple between them. Natasha's hands gripped your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as her hips began to move against your hand.

"Look at me," You commanded softly.

Natasha's eyes fluttered open, locking with yours. The intensity of her gaze nearly undid you. In that moment, there was no distance, no months of separation, no stubborn pride. There were only the two of you.

"I love you too," you murmured, and with those words, you increased the pressure, your fingers moving faster as she cried out your name.

Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body trembling against yours as she gasped for breath. You held her through it, your movements gentling as she came down from her high.

Natasha slumped against you, her face buried in the crook of your neck as her breathing gradually returned to normal.

"Wow," she finally managed, a weak laugh escaping her lips. "Just... wow."

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Yeah."

The water was definitely cold now, but neither of you seemed to notice or care.

"I came in here innocently at first," She spoke against your skin. "Just wanted to be with you."

"I know, Tasha," You kissed the top of her head. "Get out. I'll be there in a minute."

She pulled back reluctantly, her eyes searching yours. "Don't be long."

"I won't."

As Natasha stepped out of the shower, you watched her grab a towel, her movements slightly unsteady. She caught your eye before wrapping the towel around herself, and the look she gave you was full of promise for what the rest of the night might hold.

You finished washing up quickly, your mind racing. Eight months. Eight months of distance, of carefully constructed schedules, of avoiding the one person you needed most. And all it took to break through everything was one innocent question about an anklet.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped securely around your body, you found Natasha perched on the edge of the bed. She hadn't bothered dressing, just holding the towel around herself as she watched you approach.

"I was thinking," she said as you stopped in front of her.

"About?" You asked, reaching out to tuck a strand of damp hair behind her ear. You stood between her legs, caressing her face.

"About how long it's been since we had a vacation," She said, tracing the back of your thigh with the tip of her fingers.

"Hmm."

"I booked us something for the week after Paige's birthday. Paris."

Your eyes widened. "Natasha—"

"Don't," She interrupted. "No excuses. Just say yes."

You studied her face, seeing the determination in her green eyes. "What about the kids"

"My parents can handle things for a week," She said dismissively. "And I've already cleared it with Yelena to help."

You laughed softly. "Of course you have."

"So?" Her fingers stilled on your leg. "Is that a yes?"

You leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Yes," you whispered against her mouth. "That's a yes."

Natasha's relief was palpable, her whole body relaxing as she deepened the kiss. When you finally pulled apart, she was smiling, a real, genuine smile that reached her eyes.

"I was worried you'd say no," she admitted.

"After what just happened in the shower?" You teased. "I'd say yes to just about anything you asked right now."

Her grin widened. "Good to know. You don't think it was too soon?"

"I think it was too quick," You clarified at her eyebrow arch. "I meant I want us to have the opportunity to go all night." You lowered your head to her neck. "Too soon isn't a thing for us after almost two decades in. That's our problem, we're working off what we think should happen or schedules and everything else. If I wanted to eat your pussy in the parking garage of the therapist's office, I would." You paused. "Don't get any ideas."

She laughed. "Noted. No parking garage cunnilingus." Her hands slid up your back, tracing the line of your spine. "But the bed is fair game?"

You hummed, leaning in to nip at her jawline. "The bed is very fair game."

Natasha's response was to capture your lips again, this kiss deeper, more demanding. Her hands roamed your body, mapping familiar territory. You responded in kind, your own hands exploring as you slowly backed her toward the center of the bed.

When the back of her knees hit the mattress again, Natasha fell back with a soft gasp, pulling you down with her. The towels between you felt like an unnecessary barrier, and she wasted no time in remedying that. She flipped the two of you, effectively pinning you.

"Much better," she murmured against your skin as she finally got you naked beneath her.

You laughed, arching into her touch as her mouth found your throat. "I agree."

Natasha took her time rediscovering your body, her lips and hands tracing every curve, every dip, every scar she already knew by heart. It was both familiar and new, like coming home after a long absence.

When her mouth finally closed around your nipple, you gasped, your fingers tangling in her damp hair. She teased with practiced skill, knowing exactly how to drive you wild with minimal effort.

"Natasha," you breathed, your hips rising to meet hers.

She lifted her head, her green eyes dark with desire. "I want to taste you," she said, her voice husky with need.

Instead of waiting for a response, she began her descent, pressing kisses along your stomach, dipping her tongue into your navel, smiling against your skin when you squirmed. By the time she settled between your thighs, you were already panting with anticipation.

She paused, looking up at you from between your legs. The intensity in her gaze made your breath catch.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, and this time, the compliment felt like a revelation.

Then she leaned in, and all coherent thought ceased to exist.

The first stroke of her tongue against your clit sent a jolt of electricity through your body. Eight months of pent-up desire melted away in an instant. Natasha had always known exactly how to touch you, how to read your responses, how to push you to the brink and then pull you back, drawing out the pleasure until you were begging for release.

"Babe, we didn't lock the door." You didn't even know why the thought crossed your mind when she was tongue deep inside you.

"Then I'd guess you better be quiet so the kids don't come in," She mumbled without breaking her rhythm.

You rolled your eyes at her cockiness but didn't protest again, lost in the sensation of her tongue exploring your folds. Your hands found her hair again, guiding her as she built a rhythm that had your hips moving against her face.

When she added two fingers, curling them perfectly to hit that spot deep inside, you couldn't suppress the cry that escaped your lips. Natasha smirked against you, clearly pleased with herself as she increased her pace, her tongue working in tandem with her fingers to push you higher and higher.

The tension coiled in your stomach, tighter and tighter, until finally it snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Your back arched off the bed as you called out her name, your fingers tightening in her hair as your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm.

Natasha stayed with you through it all, her movements gentling as you came down from your high. When your breathing finally returned to normal, she placed one final kiss on your sensitive flesh before crawling back up to lie beside you.

You turned to face her, a lazy smile playing on your lips. "Wow," you whispered, echoing her earlier sentiment.

She chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I thought we could be spontaneous for a change."

"So you came in from your little yoga reading session and thought, damn, I wanna fuck my wife?" You teased.

"Not exactly," She rolled onto her side to fully face you. "I wanted to talk to you about the trip, and then I saw your tits." She shrugged.

You let out a laugh, the sound filling the quiet room. "Always so romantic, Romanoff."

Natasha's smile softened, her fingers tracing patterns on your arm. "I want you again," she admitted quietly. "If you're up for it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Already?"

"It's been eight months," she reminded you. "I have a lot of lost time to make up for."

The thought of another round sent a fresh wave of desire through you. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. "I'm always up for anything with you," you murmured against her lips.

Natasha responded by deepening the kiss, her body pressing closer to yours as one of her hands slid down to cup your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened under her touch. You arched into her, wanting more, needing more.

When her other hand slipped between your legs, you gasped into her mouth. She wasted no time, finding you already wet and ready for her. Her fingers explored with familiar confidence, stroking, teasing, building that fire in your belly all over again.

"I missed this," she whispered, her lips trailing along your jawline. "I missed being inside you."

"Then stop talking," you breathed, hooking your leg over her hip to give her better access. "And fuck me."

Natasha's response was to enter you with two fingers, slow and deliberate, drawing a moan from your lips. She set a languid pace at first, her thumb finding your clit as she moved within you. The familiar stretch, the perfect angle, it all came rushing back like second nature.

You met her gaze, seeing the raw emotion in her green eyes. Eight months of distance, of carefully maintaining space, all melting away with each thrust of her fingers. You reached up, caressing her face.

"I love you," you whispered, the words coming easily now.

"I love you too," she replied, her movements gaining speed as her own arousal grew. "So much."

You could feel her need pressing against your thigh, and it spurred you on. You rolled your hips, meeting each thrust, encouraging her to take you harder, faster. Natasha obliged, her fingers moving deeper, her thumb working your clit with skilled precision.

The second orgasm built more slowly but was no less intense. When it finally washed over you, you cried out her name, your body trembling with release. Natasha didn't stop, continuing to move within you, drawing out your pleasure until you were completely spent.

Only then did she withdraw, gathering you in her arms as you both caught your breath. The room was quiet except for your ragged breathing, the cool air from the open window doing little to cool your heated skin.

"I think we're going to need two weeks in Paris," you finally spoke.

Getting the call from your ex-wife Natasha that her car broke down on the way to drop your child home had really stuck a wrench in your Sunday plans. If it was just Nat stranded, you would’ve contemplated going to help, but you didn’t think twice to come to your daughter’s rescue.

You didn’t have to drive far before you spotted Natasha’s car and she and your sweet daughter standing against it. You halted in front of them, rolling your windows down with a smile. Your daughter, Mary Jane jumped up in excitement.

“Mommy’s here! Mommy’s here!” She squealed, tapping on Natasha’s hand to get her attention, but Nat was already staring at you. You smiled.

“Get in the car you two, call Tony, Nat, I’m sure he’ll get that hunk of metal taken care of.” You teased. Natasha shot you a smirk that always made your knees buckle as she began to strap Mary Jane in.

“Oh so I’m ‘Nat’ now? Let me find out you’ve gone soft once again.” She said as she got in the passenger seat. You rolled your eyes, slapping her hand away when she tried to touch your thigh. “Ooh, burn.” She hissed.

“I should’ve gotten my kid and left you stranded. I’m sure your lovely Avengers would’ve given you a ride.” She scoffed.

“You always thought I put them over you. It’s ridiculous.” It was your turn to scoff. Her head was so far up her ass.

“You did. And that’s the reason—“ you cut yourself off, looking at Mary Jane looking at you quietly as if she was fearful of a fight breaking out. “How about we get ice cream?” You suggested, already making a u-turn. She perked up, clapping her hands together.

“Before dinner, mommy?” She asked confusedly once her excitement wore off. You shrugged.

“We’ll get it at the grocery store, so we can have it after dinner.” You could see Nat nodding.

“Such a problem solver. A hot one at that.” She muttered that second part under her breath, you could only scoff at her inappropriate comments.

“Gross, Nat.” You said but couldn’t stop a smirk.

You three rolled up to the grocery store in no time, both you and Nat held Mary Jane’s hand as you crossed the street. Nat placed her in the shopping cart, you couldn’t help but notice her arms flexing slightly. Things were calm until you hit the ice cream aisle.

“Ooh! I want vanilla! No strawberry! No chocolate!” You giggled at how indecisive your five year old was.

“Okay, one big flavor for us to share, Mary.” She pouted at only being able to pick one, then she turned to Natasha.

“Mama help me pwease.” She asked sweetly, looking up at Natasha with those puppy dog eyes of hers. Of course your ex folded and picked her up out of the buggy and put her eye to eye with each ice cream freezer.

“We could get popsicles or a tub of ice cream. Or how about we get a tub and we buy cones and sprinkles and have ice cream cones?” She suggested with an elated tone. Watching how good she was with Mary Jane made you want to— but you couldn’t. So you pushed those thoughts deep down and continued to watch them.

“Uhm,” Mary Jane trailed off before pointing at a tub of french vanilla, a flavor she loved dearly. “Dis one. And cones and sprinkles.” She decided. You smiled, watching Nat help her put the ice cream in the cart.

You guys bought your items then began to head back home. You put on Mary Jane’s favorite song and she sang it the whole way home. Once you pulled up to your home, Natasha got the groceries while you got your daughter out of the car.

As you picked Mary Jane up and held her in your arms, Natasha passed by you and said.

“We work well together.”

“It’s called coparenting, Nat.” You retorted, unlocking the door and letting Mary Jane walk in first.

“What’s for dinner?” She asked with childlike curiosity as she got comfortable on the couch.

“Spaghetti. You and mama get to the table, I’ll bring it to you.” You said, going into the kitchen and grabbing three ceramic plates out of the cabinet. You portioned everyone’s meal perfectly and served it alongside garlic bread and a glass of water. You had to work under pressure because Natasha convinced Mary Jane to start slamming her fork on the table repeatedly.

“Your mama is just a big baby, Mary Jane.” You sneered at Natasha as you handed your girls their plates. Once you sat down, you all began to eat— well— you and Mary Jane began to eat. Natasha was eyeing you like she was hungry for something else.

You cleared your throat, opening your mouth to ask, “So, Nat, how’s the work life?” Natasha swallowed before answering you.

“The same old, same old. I’m just getting through the week to see our sweet girl.” She mussled Mary Jane’s hair which made her giggle and squirm around in her seat. “What about you?” She asked, turning back to you.

You shrugged. “As good as it’ll get.” Natasha hummed.

“Are you getting the money I send?” Ah yes, the occasional thousand dollars she’d send every once in a while. You saw it as her way of trying to get you back at first, but after a while of it not working, she still sent it, so you accepted it happily.

“Yeah. It helps. Thanks.” The word slipped out before you could stop it, but you meant it.

After dinner and dessert, it was time for Mary Jane’s bath time. She was getting to that age where she wanted to be independent and do things by herself, so you let her take the reins. As you and Nat watched her clean herself up the best a five year old could, you decided to strike up a conversation with her.

“So what do you think was wrong with the car?” You asked her, nursing your glass of wine.

“Probably needed a jump.” Nat shrugged, you quirked a brow.

“I could’ve given you a damn jump, Nat. You wouldn’t have even been here.” She chuckled but nothing was funny.

“Yeah but then I wouldn’t have been here.” She repeated. You scoffed, realizing her little ploy.

“So you purposely didn’t mention a dead battery to what— get in my pants?” She rolled her eyes.

“I purposely lied because I wanted to feel like a family again. I wanted to feel like your wife again.” That stopped you dead in your tracks, the comeback you had ready died on your lips. Despite the wine, Natasha’s expression was sober and… honest?

The whole room was quiet, even Mary Jane had partially stopped playing with her toys. You ran a hand over your face like everything was overwhelming you. “Natasha, you can’t mean that—“ Natasha cut you off, her voice shaking but unwavering.

“I do! I do mean it. I had you. And I put you and her below other things and that was wrong. And every day I think about what would’ve happened if I didn’t skip dinner, or didn’t choose a mission over you.” A tear slipped down your cheek and onto the floor. You couldn’t believe her words.

“I realize that you understand your wrongs, but are you willing to right them? Because if I let you back in and you hurt me— you hurt us? Then I’ll never forgive you.” The tears were fully flowing by now, wine and deep conversations always did make you emotional.

Natasha looked down at the floor, tears glossing her eyes . “I know, I don’t even deserve a second chance. But if you could consider it, I’d— I’d do better. I would be a better wife.” She promised. You stayed quiet, only looking at her to determine if she was being genuine.

“I want you to leave the avengers. If you’re really serious.” You were surprised when Natasha didn’t hesitate, pulling out her phone. “Nat, I was joking.”

She looked up from her phone, her cheeks grew slightly pink as she realized you were just kidding. “Oh. I would’ve done it for you. For my family back.” A small smile graced your face, you sat your glass down before wrapping your arms around Natasha’s neck.

“We’re gonna have a long talk about this. And we’ll have to take things slow, okay?” You muttered into her neck. Natasha nodded against you, you could feel her wetting your shoulder with tears of her own.

“My mom’s are hugging!” Mary Jane cheered from the bathtub, you pulled back from Natasha to smile at her.

Another day. Another hectic week. More interviews. Endless social events. Layers of heavy makeup and constant flashing lights. The sun-drenched veranda of your LA mansion is filled with activity as everyone works around you. Photographers and assistants move about, adjusting lights and equipment. You’re standing in the center, posing for Essence magazine's dual cover shoot, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun on your skin.

From the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Rose standing near the entryway. Her eyes are wide with fascination as she watches the photographers intently. She’s not supposed to be out here; she understood the rules well enough. When you were working, she needed to be occupied, mainly for your sanity, not for work-related reasons. Sometimes you couldn’t turn Mommy mode off, and being able to separate the two was important. 

Though you didn’t have the heart to turn her away, Rose appeared perfectly content to watch you work. A quiet sense of pride filled you, knowing she’d taken such an interest. She looks so enamored, standing there in her pink sweater, tutu skirt, and striped leggings. 

“Mommy’s so pretty,” Rose dares to venture closer as you pose for another picture. The lights flash for a few more seconds as Tracy James, Essence’s latest photographer, captures your pose.

“She is,” Tracy grins, lowering her camera and glancing at Rose.

“Can I maybe try that?” Rose asks boldly.

“You want to take pictures with the camera?” Tracy looks between Rose and the camera, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Yes, please,” Rose nods eagerly. You eye the two of them, wondering where Carla or even Natasha is, as Darcy touches up your makeup. At your approval, Tracy shrugs and unstraps the camera, passing it to Rose. It felt a little heavy in her hands, but she hoisted it up without any trouble.

“All you have to do is press this button,” Tracy began to instruct her, but Rose already knew what she was doing. She presses the camera to her face and looks through the viewfinder.

“Mommy, you have to smile,” Rose instructs with a seriousness beyond her years. Her tiny finger hovers over the shutter button, ready to capture the moment.

You couldn’t help but grin at her bossiness. “Okay, I’m smiling,” you say, adjusting your pose slightly. The camera clicked as Rose pressed the button, capturing a few pictures. She moves around, hoping to get different angles, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Gosh, you love that little girl. 

You could see Natasha step into view and immediately pull out her phone. No way was she missing this moment. 

Tracy chuckles softly. “Looks like we have a budding photographer here.”

Pride swells in your chest as you watch Rose, completely absorbed in her new task. It was moments like these that made the whirlwind of interviews and photo shoots worth it, a glimpse of normalcy and joy amidst the glamour of your career.

Rose beams, carefully holding the camera, her tiny fingers adjusting the lens with exaggerated concentration. You struck a playful pose just for her, eliciting giggles from the little girl.

“Mommy, can you answer a few questions for me?” Rose says, her face serious, mimicking the interviews she had seen you do.

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. It seems she was interviewing you now.

“Sure,” You say, smiling warmly at her. You gesture for her to go ahead.

“Do you like being a model and taking pictures?” Rose asks. 

“Hmm, I would say it’s not a bad job,” You answer thoughtfully. “Though it’s not my main job. I’m an actress and a mom. I love being a mom the most.”

Rose nods, considering your response. “What’s your favorite part about being an actress?”

You laugh again, charmed by her earnestness. “My favorite part is getting to tell stories and become different characters. It’s like playing make-believe every day.”

Rose listens intently, absorbing your words. “Can I be an actress when I grow up?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” You reply.  “You can be anything you want to be.”

Those were her last questions before she was whisked away by Natasha with the promises of food and Barbies. 

—----------

A few days later, you find yourself in another familiar setting, a sleek studio, sitting across from Emma Carter, Entertainment Tonight’s newest correspondent. The lights were bright, the cameras rolling, and you felt the usual mix of excitement and nerves. You couldn’t tell what you disliked more, the press tours or the questions they ask you during every press tour. There was only so much “How’d you feel filming this moment?” that you could take. 

"Thank you for joining us today," Emma smiled at you, her voice smooth and welcoming.

"Thank you for having me," you reply, your smile genuine.

Emma glances at her notes, then looks up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Your recent photoshoot for Essence magazine was stunning, and it's clear how much your family means to you. We can feel the love oozing from you every time we see you with your girls or with your mother, even. There's been a lot of interest in your personal life, especially with your marriage to Natasha Romanoff. We know you guys are generally a private couple. How do you handle the constant scrutiny and rumors about your relationship? For example, there have been recent whispers about a possible separation. How do you keep your relationship strong despite all this?”

The question hung in the air, more personal and pointed than you expected. You feel a slight discomfort, but knew this is your chance to set the record straight. Taking a deep breath, you prepare to answer with the grace and honesty that has become your signature.

From the top.

—-----------------

You finally found relief arriving back home. You thank Johnny as always, lugging a duffel bag over your arm, your Ugg boots offering you little comfort as you trudge up to the door. You push a key into the lock, wondering what the music inside was saying, and open the door. You didn’t hesitate to kick off your shoes and drop your bags. 

Mocha met you, tail wagging wildly,  sniffing around you. 

“Hi, boy,” You greet, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. “Where’s everyone?” You follow the sound into the kitchen, where Grace is on the floor, attempting to push herself up against Natasha’s legs to stand, and Rose dances barefoot on top of the counter, completely immersed in the experience. 

Don't blame it on the sunshine

Don't blame it on the moonlight

Don't blame it on the good times

Blame it on the boogie

Natasha sings as she moves her hips and dances in place, a wooden spoon in her hands. You watch her, giving her body a once-over, wondering how quickly you could get the girls to bed. Her soft gray tank top clung to the muscles on her back and shoulders, flexing every time she raised her hands. Her hair was messy from the humidity of cooking, clinging to her forehead in a loose, limp ponytail. Grace squeals every time Natasha turns around. Her tiny hands are clinging to Natasha’s sweatpants. 

For all the chaos that came with your life, you knew you were fortunate. Blessed, maybe, for people who believed in those kinds of things. A thriving career. A loving wife. Beautiful children. A home full of laughter.

Sometimes you wonder if life could really get any better than it already was.

“Ma!” Grace babbles suddenly as she spots you.

She lets go of Natasha’s leg, stumbling forward before falling onto her hands with a tiny whine. Her pout appears almost instantly as she looks up at you expectantly.

You laugh softly and scoop her into your arms.

“There’s my baby.” You kiss her cheeks. She grins, showing off the two tiny teeth in her mouth. “Hi, baby girl.” You whisper to her as you bounce her to the music. Natasha turns and greets you with a non-too-gentle slap on your ass. She ushers over to her phone, effectively turning down the speakers. 

“Mommy, we made cookies.” Rose points to the tray just inches away from her little toes. They’re crooked, misformed circles with chocolate chips sprinkled on top. Rose’s doing you’re sure. 

“That’s great,” You nod. “Can you get down from there and give me a proper greeting?”

Rose reaches out for Natasha, the other woman grabbing her with love in her eyes. 

“Sorry, babe, we got carried away,” Natasha says. 

“I see,” You look around at the mess. “You sent Carla home?”

“I did,” She nods. “I know we should keep the girls in a routine while I’m home, but,” She shrugs. “Rose asked for Mac and Cheese for dinner, by the way.”

“Second night in a row,” You mutter, sifting through the mail on the counter with one hand. 

“Mhmm,” Natasha agrees. 

“You like my choice, Mommy?” Rose asks, doing another spin for absolutely no reason. 

“I love your choice,” you lean down to kiss her. “Maybe we can add a protein and veggies this time?”

“Vegetables again?” Rose’s mouth gapes. 

“That’s usually how dinner works,” Natasha reminds her. 

“I think we can do that,” Rose nods thoughtfully. “Chicken?”

“Already on it,” Natasha stirs the mac in the pot. “Don’t judge me for the boxed mac. I’m not really in the mood for a full meal.”

“I will take whatever I can get.” You continue to go through the pile of unopened mail. You sift through with one hand, noting the residual checks needing to be deposited. There were perks to being in two syndicated television series before the age of seven. Of course, they weren’t a lot, but they were nice enough to pack a real punch in the girls’ college funds. 

Grace squawks happily from your hip, her tiny toes curling against your side, as you turn to Natasha. 

“You look tired,” She glances back at you. 

“I am tired,” You reply. “Between training for this new movie, still doing the post-Emmy press run, and Roxanne booking me for every possible appearance imaginable, I think my head is going to explode.”

“Not before we get a chance to vacation,” She shakes her head. “C’mere,” She moves away from the stove and pulls you into an awkward sideways hug. “You smell good.”

“Thank you, baby.” You shiver at the light kisses she places along your neck. “Pretty rare for us both to be home.” You slide into a seat at the island. You shift Grace in your arms, holding her in your lap, not having a chance to think before she begins to chomp on your fingers. “Oh no, baby girl, my hands aren’t clean.” You shake your head. She sighs dramatically, throwing her hand back into your chest. 

“Yeah,” Natasha hums. “We should make the most of it.”

“What should we do, Mama?” Rose inserts herself into the conversation. You knew she’d have some ideas. 

“I’m thinking we should eat dinner out on the patio,” Natasha flicks Rose’s nose, causing her to giggle. “Then we can make s’mores later if Mommy says yes.”

“Please?” Rose immediately turns to you with wide eyes. How could you resist that pout?

“You already know I’m outnumbered in this house,” You sigh dramatically.

“That means yes,” Natasha translates for Rose. Grace squeals happily at the sudden excitement despite having absolutely no idea what’s happening.

Natasha plates the food while Rose continues rambling about all the things she wants to do before bedtime. You mostly just listen, watching them carefully from your spot at the island. Press days always left you depleted. If left to your own devices, you’d probably fall asleep there.

Natasha wouldn’t let you. She was always a stickler about routine and not breaking it. Though neither of your lives called for much stability in that sense. Sure, Carla kept the girls in check, but it seemed like the two of you were on your own. 

Your eyes drift over to the sink, then the patio doors, remembering the night all those months ago when your party had died down. You saw something. You swore you did, but then there was nothing. Nothing in the camera footage. No one is in the house. Just your imagination. Still, it unsettled you to no end. 

—------

The string lights were a nice touch on the patio. With mood lighting, your favorite jazz music in the background, and a glass of wine, you felt relaxed. Grace was mostly eating solids now, which gave you the freedom to sit and enjoy the meal Natasha cooked. Chicken, mac and cheese, and broccoli. 

“You’re my very own Gordon Ramsay,” You mumble cheekily into your spoon. 

“Ha ha,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Whatever the girl wants. The girl gets.”

“Is the girl me?” Rose sits on her knees in the chair. She grabs a hefty spoonful, her brows knitting together when half of it falls onto the table and floor. She groans audibly when Mocha is there in a flash to gobble it up. 

“That’s what you get for ignoring table manners,” Natasha points her fork at her.

“You ignore table manners too,” Rose argues immediately.

“Don’t snitch on me in front of your mother.” Natasha bites. 

You laugh softly, leaning back in your chair.

Natasha looks warm beneath the string lights, her bare arms glistening, a wine glass balanced loosely in one hand. Somewhere in the hills below your house, Los Angeles glitters beneath the night sky.

“Can Auntie Zara come over soon for tea?” Rose changes the subject. She grabs onto a broccoli floret with her bare hands. 

“I’m pretty sure Zara is on tour,” You inform her, much to her dismay. “She has a new album out. Maybe we can listen sometime?”

“Tonight?”

“No, Princess, not tonight,” Natasha shakes her head. “You have school in the morning.”

“But I don’t like school,” Rose pouts. “Can’t I just stay home?”

“You did that today, remember?” Natasha reminds her.

“Oh, you did?” You question, raising a brow. “This is news to me. What did the two of you get into?”

“Oh, you know. The usual,” Natasha shrugs casually. “Candy store. Picked up new ballet shoes. Flirted with girls.”

“Cute girls?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“Of course not,” Natasha says before taking another sip of wine.

Rose gasps dramatically. “Mama said the lady at the ballet store had pretty eyes.”

“Traitor,” Natasha mutters beneath her breath. “I said her eyes complemented the blouse she was wearing.” She clarifies. 

“Somehow not better,” You lean over to clean Grace's face.  You could already feel the beginning stages of a sleepy, whiny toddler settling in. Grace rubs at her eyes before reaching for you again with a tired little fuss.

“Are we done with dinner?” You ask. You pull Grace from her chair and sit her in your lap. 

“No,” Rose denies immediately. “I want to stay up with you guys.” The whine in her voice grows stronger near the end of the sentence. Grace seems to join in solidarity, letting out an offended little babble from your lap.

Natasha snorts into her wine glass. “Yeah, they’re definitely related.” 

Grace let’s out another little yelp, frustrated that she can’t get your top open. 

“Don’t you think we should wean her soon?” Natasha questions. “For your sanity?”

“Hmm,” You think about it, adjusting your top so she could be more comfortable. “It will probably have to be soon. The movie starts shooting next month. But I still think she’s so tiny and…”

Natasha looks at you with love and amusement in her eyes. You weren’t ready to wean. Having breastfed Rose until she was 18 months. Grace still had time. 

“You say that like she’s still this little newborn,” she says softly.

“She is little,” You defend immediately, pressing a kiss to Grace’s temple. “Look at her.”

Grace responds by aggressively tugging at your shirt again.

Natasha laughs under her breath. “Yeah. Terrifyingly little.”

“You’re no help.”

“I’m serious,” Natasha reaches across the table to brush her fingers against Grace’s curls. “You’ve done well, baby.” The sincerity in her voice settles warmly in your chest.

Sometimes Natasha said things so plainly that they hit harder than compliments ever could.

“Just a while longer,” You murmur.  

—--------------

Natasha volunteers to put the girls to bed, daring you not to touch any of the dishes before disappearing upstairs with Grace balanced against her hip and Rose trailing dramatically behind her.

“I’m not tired!” Rose protests loudly halfway up the stairs.

“That’s interesting because your eyes are literally closed,” Natasha calls back. Their voices fade further into the house, leaving you alone on the patio for the first time all evening.

You pour yourself another glass of wine before settling onto the outdoor couch beneath the string lights. The cushions sink softly beneath you as the jazz music continues drifting through the speakers.

For the first time in weeks, you let yourself relax. Your phone pings beside you. You crack one eye open, expecting Roxanne or another schedule update, only to see Instagram lighting up your screen.

You usually kept notifications muted or deleted the apps entirely when things became too overwhelming, but somehow this one slipped through.

Opening the message, you find a DM from Kerry Washington inviting you and Natasha to lunch with Eva Longoria sometime next week.

A laugh escapes you softly.

Sometimes your life still felt completely ridiculous. You give her a quick reply to confirm and toss your phone beside you. You don’t realize you’ve drifted off until you hear the clinking of dishes somewhere in the distance. Your head lolls to the side, and you open your eyes to find Natasha clearing up the last of the dinner dishes. You watch her for a few seconds longer, eyeing her in the distance, as she begins to turn off the music. 

“Don’t,” You finally say, clearing your throat. You sit up straighter, trying to catch your bearings. Natasha sets the remote down, pressing the play button, and switching back to the jazz station.

“I was just about to wake you and ask you to sleep,” She steps over to caress your face. She gives you gentle pecks, humming at the red wine on your lips and tongue. “You taste good.” She compliments. 

“Thank you,” You say. You pat your lap, hoping she gets the message, and she settles into your arms immediately. “Girls asleep?” You let your hands drift to her hips. 

“Quicker than expected,” Natasha confirms. “Sorry about not telling you I kept her home.”

“You’re her mom too,” You shrugged. “Says so on the birth certificate.”

“Either way,” she says after another lingering kiss, “I’m still waking you up for that training session tomorrow.”

You groan dramatically, letting your head fall back against the couch.

“Can’t we think of other ways to exercise?” You frown. “Pilates, or even a nice brisk walk.” You offered. Natasha wasn’t your personal trainer, but until Bradley flew in, she was the next best thing. Her training regimen was military-adjacent, and you had to wonder how she kept up with it. 

“Sex?” She suggests, completely serious. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” You shrug. 

Natasha hums approvingly against your neck. “See? Now that’s the kind of cardio I can get behind.”You laugh softly, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to rest against the warm skin of her waist.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” Natasha murmurs, pressing another kiss just below your jaw, “you married me anyway.”

“Best decision I ever made,” You admit quietly.

Natasha stills slightly at that, her expression softening in a way that always catches you off guard after all these years.

“Yeah,” she says after a moment, voice quieter now. “Mine too.”

—-----

Somewhere along the way, the two of you trail upstairs and drift off to sleep tangled together beneath the sheets. Natasha’s alarm is set for five, an absolutely abhorrent time to willingly be awake, and you silently pray she’ll forget about the entire workout idea by morning.

There’s no such luck when a not-so-gentle slap to your ass abruptly awakens you.

“Wake up, it’s time to go.”

Natasha sounds entirely too awake for someone who went to bed less than six hours ago.

You groan miserably, burrowing deeper into the pillows as the cool morning air brushes against your bare shoulders.

“Natasha,” you whine, voice muffled. “It’s still nighttime.”

“It is literally five-thirty.”

“Exactly. Illegal.”

Natasha snorts softly somewhere above you. The mattress dips before warm hands slide beneath your waist, attempting to drag you backward across the bed.

“You said you wanted this role.”

“I also said I wanted peace and happiness.”

“And abs,” Natasha reminds you.

“Abs are a social construct.”

Natasha laughs then, full and genuine, and the sound alone almost makes waking up worth it.

Almost.

One eye peeks open just enough to find her already dressed in black workout clothes, hair tightly braided back, looking deeply unfair at this hour of the morning.

“I hate you,” you mumble dramatically.

Natasha leans down, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“No, you don’t.”

Unfortunately, she’s right. To fight getting out of bed, you pull her towards you, wrapping your legs around her in a bear hug so she’s unable to get away. 

“Stay here,” you breathe. “We don’t have to go anywhere. Plus, I think I was promised morning sex.”

“I don’t recall that,” Natasha shakes her head. “Don’t be lazy.” She says even though she doesn’t move. . Your hand slips into the waistband of her biker shorts, hoping for somethig more, a distraction.

Natasha smirks at that, wiggling her behind in your hand. "Nice try," she says as she kisses you before getting up.

"Nat, you're so unfair!"

"Come on, the faster we do this, the faster we can come back upstairs."

"This is a one-time offer that expires really soon," you grumble.

"Well, let's see if we can change your mind about that." She dares. "Come down to the gym in ten minutes." 

Oh what a beautiful morning.

—------

“Okay, big girl,” Natasha let go of Rose’s hand as the four of you walked up to the gates of her school. Most mornings are quick stops in the drop-off line, but with both of you home, you are more than happy to fulfill her requests of showing up. She has a slight bounce in her step, her frozen branded light-up sneakers sparkling with each movement across the pavement. Her hair is in two pigtails, adorned with pink bows, and she looks like a proper preschooler. “You know the rules.”

“No running in the hallways,” Rose recites. “No talking to strangers.”

“Hmm,” You nod. “And?”

“Teeth are for food, not for people,” She sighs dramatically. “Hi, Eleanor!” She waves across the courtyard to her best friend. Eleanor is a brown-haired girl with thick glasses and a heart of gold. They fit together so well. “My mommies are both here today.”  

Eleanor gasps like this is the greatest thing she’s ever heard.“Whoa,” she says, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “Both?”

“Yep,” Rose beams proudly. Natasha crouches down in front of Rose, then, holding out her fist expectantly.

“Alright. Ritual.”

Rose immediately straightens up. First came the fist bump. Then the secret handshake Natasha taught her sometime last year, that somehow involved two claps, snapping fingers, and ending with their foreheads touching briefly together.

“Be kind,” Natasha murmurs against her forehead.

“Be brave,” Rose responds automatically.

You feel your chest tighten warmly at the sight.

“And what about Mommy?” You ask.

Rose spins toward you immediately. Your ritual is much simpler. One kiss for each cheek.One for her forehead. Then one pressed dramatically into the palm of her hand for “later.”

Rose giggles as you close her tiny fingers around it carefully.

“In case you miss me,” You whisper.

“I always miss you,” she whispers back seriously. Natasha visibly melts beside you. “Okay, okay,” Natasha clears her throat dramatically. “Before I start crying in front of preschoolers.”

Rose laughs before finally taking her teacher’s hand. She rushes back toward Grace’s stroller and carefully presses a kiss to her little sister’s cheek.

“Bye, baby Grace. Be good, okay?” she instructs seriously. Grace responds with a noncommittal little huff before blinking up at her sister with wide, curious eyes.

“I think that means yes,” You murmur. Rose nods like this is a perfectly acceptable answer before racing back toward the school doors. The three of you stand there watching until she disappears safely inside.

“We did well with that one,” Natasha wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against her side. You hum softly in agreement, your eyes lingering on the school entrance for another second longer. 

—-------------

Rose skips into her classroom with Eleanor by her side, talking a mile a minute about how her moms would be taking her to an amusement park. She hangs her backpack on her hook engraved with pink and yellow glitter, by her own doing. Tiny voices overlap with hers as the excitement of the morning buzzes through the classroom.

“Good morning, class, please find your square around the rug and sit on it.” Rose grabs tighter onto Eleanor’s hand and tugs her across the room to a seat sitting closest to Ms. Whitney, her teacher. 

“Good morning,” Rose’s voice rings through the rest of the voices. She’s walking towards her square, only stopping mid walk at the second adult sitting on the rug with them. The woman seems familiar with her dark eyes and gentle smile. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a laminated school badge was clipped neatly to her sweater.

“Before we start circle time,” Ms. Linda claps her hands gently to get the class’s attention, “I want everyone to say hello to our new helper.”

Carissa smiles warmly and gives a small wave.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Miss Carissa. I’m going to be helping around the classroom for a little while.”

Eleanor immediately raises her hand.

“Are you old?” she asks seriously. A few kids burst into laughter.

Carissa laughs softly, too. “Not very.”  Rose tilts her head.

Your giggles resounded down the hall despite your door being closed. Honestly, you weren’t aware of how loud you were laughing with a heavy headset on as you watched TikTok trends along with your audience. Yes, audience.

Turned out that you could actually live off from social media, a bittersweet decision that Natasha watched you take with her jaw tight and a tighter smile because the idea of you exposing yourself for the world to judge triggered her more than she wanted to admit, but the idea of keeping you safe inside the most guarded building in the world instead of you actively commuting to work every day helped her sleep at night.

It started with silly trends that slowly moved to livestreams on Twitch. You built a solid community that clearly loved giving you ideas to mess with the hottest super-spy on earth. The same community that kept you company during the nights Natasha was away on a mission and you swore the building turned colder without her presence.

Sadly, that night was one of those nights.

But after five years of being Natasha’s girlfriend, the tension felt bearable, or at least you got very good at hiding it with loud laughter, a good wine and the category of just chatting under your stream.

“Do you guys think I could pull this off?” you asked softly, the chat moving fast despite being in slow mode. You squinted as you took a sip and snorted when an alert went off.

BigOnyxxx donated 1000bits. Natasha would propose on spot if you called her your wife. She’s your biggest simp and I’ve been around here long enough to spot them instantly xDD

“Onyx! Thank you for the bits and I promise I won’t tell my super deadly assassin girlfriend you called her a simp in front of fifty-thousand people” you smiled softly as you tried to read the chat once again. You giggled at some comments you managed to catch “Oh! Guys, guys, I think I know which one, but should we do it live?” you blurted out, your fingers already tapping in the search bar and wiggling your eyebrows as you looked at the camera with a mischievous smile “Do we see the vision?”

And while you kept chatting, your girlfriend was landing at the compound and ready to spend the next forty-eight hours glued to you. Mission had gone well, if she could label it as such after someone else almost fucked it up.

She made it to the living area; most of the team was out on different missions or simply trying to do something different for a change. And Natasha never comprehended the need to mingle with the rest of the world, not when her whole life revolved saving or destroying the world. Then, you walked into her life and now she couldn’t remember the last time she wasn’t counting minutes down to get back to you.

However, her smile started to fade away when she heard your laughter. Not because she hated the sound of it, she loved it. It was because she knew what that meant, and her whole body started to prepare for the world to see the deadliest assassin turn into the softest puppy under your arms. Again.

Ever since you blew up — or as you would call it ‘go viral’ — the world started to like her better, and she wasn’t so sure she liked that.

She didn’t have an option, anyway.

The redhead inhaled sharply when her hand grabbed the doorknob of her room. When she opened the door, the first thing that wrapped her was your scent. Vanilla still lingered in the air mixed with lavender oil that you probably set in the diffusor. The room was slightly dark, illuminated only by those LED lights you tricked Natasha into installing, and the light that came from your gaming setup that Tony gifted and pretended they were things he meant to throw away.

Chat started to go frenetic when she started to show in the frame. Donation after donation started to come through and you looked at the screen with confused eyes. And despite the word ‘BEHIND’ appearing repeatedly, you simply rolled your eyes.

“For the last time, the place isn’t haunted!” you huffed and bit your lip “I asked Wanda to check”

Natasha moved your headset carefully and whispered in your ear “And how on earth would Wanda know that?”

Clips were made the moment you flinched, your soul leaving your body was truly caught in 4K, and Natasha’s chuckle made it feel like visiting the gates of heaven. At the first gasp of air, your hand tried to smack Natasha’s thigh and failed in the process when calloused fingers wrapped around your wrist.

You looked up with flushed cheeks and found a smirking redhead looking at you, a terrifying image for many but the sweetest for you.

“And you didn’t want to take self-defense class” Natasha said casually, leaning down to be at your level and you felt the air getting knocked out of your lungs when your eyes fell on plumped lips making you lick yours “Breathe”

You did as told, because your girlfriend’s voice always managed to cut through any fog. And then you grunted “That is mean, Romanoff! Do you always have to walk in stealth mode?”

“I don’t know any other way” she shrugged nonchalantly and kissed your forehead as you winced “Say your goodbyes, I need my girlfriend”

Your lips parted, probably to follow instructions when you look back at the camera. However, the chat kept going wild as they sent donations after donations trying to convince you to follow your plan through.

You bit your lower lip, your hand shaky over the mouse as you toyed with the idea despite already knowing the answer. And Natasha watched first-handedly the way your whole demeanor changed into something more playful and mischievous.

“Can you wait a few more minutes? We actually were waiting for an album that’s about to drop, right guys?” you briefly looked at the camera and then back at your girlfriend that scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“They can’t even talk to you” Natasha added and you giggled.

“Okay, dino, there’s a chat over here” you pointed out one of the screens and Natasha squinted, her head dizzy instantly at the movement “See? They are saying yes”

“There’s no way you can read that” the redhead huffed and you shrugged, a sweet smile already tugging your lips that always melted Natasha’s heart “Fine, I’ll go take a quick shower”

You hummed, the smile faltering slightly at the thought of your plan not working out but now you had to keep up the charade. And it wasn’t until you heard her close the bathroom door that you exhaled loudly and laughed in disbelief.

“Do you guys think she will notice that the album was released two years ago?” you giggled softly as you read the chat “Hey, it’s a white lie. You are making it sound weird, guys. I promise I always come clean after, but I think you will owe me a big time for this one”

You kept chatting with your audience, switching from your headset to the speakers to look casual. And despite you wearing your confident smile and giggling, your leg was bouncing nervously under the table as it always did whenever you were about to mess with Natasha.

It was true that you always came clean and apologized. And deep-down Natasha loved it, because she always knew when you were lying, yet she always chose to watch you go along with it. The aftermath was always delicious for both, but it always made you nervous.

As the time passed and the water kept running, you felt the way the idea started to sit wrongly over your shoulders. Recording Natasha’s reactions in private gave you the room to edit the most intimate parts of your interactions, but doing it live was a risky move that could leave you both terribly exposed to the world.

However, before you could call it off, you heard the movement in the bathroom and your hand moved instantly to the mouse. The first song in the album started to fill the room seconds before your girlfriend came out of the bathroom as she dried her hair with a towel.

“Is that the album?” Natasha asked, her body out of the frame as she sat at the edge of the bed. You hummed; your eyes focused on her arms as they flexed with every movement she made “Have I heard this artist before?”

You cleared your throat and forced yourself to look away, squeezing your legs together subtly “Yeah, I’ve sneaked a song or two in your workout playlist”

“You will have to be more specific, sweetheart. You do that all the time” she pointed out and you chuckled.

The chat kept mentioning how the whole thing only worked if they could see Natasha, and you inhaled sharply before turning your chair to face her. The redhead tilted her head with suspicion as you moved your fingers nervously over your lap.

“Care to join us? The world wants a raw review from the Black Widow herself” you asked softly and Natasha hummed, leaning back with her palms pressed on the bed and her legs slightly spread. You almost moaned but forced yourself to focus “Please?”

“I know how those reviews with you end” she said softly and you whined “It’s like you love getting in trouble on purpose. Oh, wait! You do. You admitted to it when I had...”

“Just listen to the damn album, Romanoff” you cut her off, your face on fire by the implication of her statement. Natasha chuckled and walked towards you “Such a good girlfriend”

She rolled her eyes playfully and you sat up just to end up sitting in her lap “You owe me for this”

“I always do. Now, sh”

The first song ended and you paused, giving yourself one last chance to call it off once again as you commented on the song and watched your girlfriend try to follow you when giving hers.

One of her hands sneaked under your sweatshirt and you shivered at the cold contact, your body already leaning closer as she rested her chin over your shoulder and pecked your cheek.

You giggled as you read the chat, people filling it with ‘aw's and soft comments about the not-so-intimidating super spy “Gays, be cool. Nat is like any other human being” your girlfriend hummed, brushing her nose against your cheek as her eyelids felt heavy “Next one is called Lunch. Ready?”

Natasha hummed again, half listening as her hand moved smoothly over your abdomen. The redhead buried her nose in your hair and pulled you closer, forgetting for a moment there were thousands of people watching her as she tried to merge her body with yours.

Then, her movements stopped when the lyrics reached her ears. Her mind took a few seconds to make sense of them as the song poured through the speakers and her hand tensed over your abdomen, making your heart skip a beat with anticipation.

“Start it over, please” Natasha asked softly and you hummed, starting over the song as you sent a wink to the camera. The beat came first and Natasha tapped her foot but stopped almost instantly when the first verse came “Wait, wait, did she say she could eat that girl for lunch?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s legal now” you chuckled, turning to look at her and she rolled her eyes “I know I would eat you for lunch, though” you said cheerfully but it didn’t take you long to squeeze your legs when her eyes darkened “Wait”

“When you say it like that, she does have a point. You are a whole meal” Natasha replied loudly enough for the audience to hear, but when her lips brushed the shell of your ear and her other hand squeezed your thigh, you already knew she was about to ruin you “Say your goodbyes, sweet thing, daddy needs you right now”

“N-Natasha” you stuttered, licking your lips nervously as her hand moved closer to your inner thigh. Your hands moved to the stream dashboard, making sure her hand was out view but even when you realized no one could see her, your cheeks blushed “Did you like the song?”

The redhead scoffed, leaning back against the chair, but both of her hands grabbed your thighs and forced them open, making you squeak. You tried to focus on the chat, a live audience that remained ignorant of your girlfriend’s hand movements or the way you were trying to play it cool as though she didn’t just give you a very clear instruction.

“Sure, great rhythm and the lyrics feel...” she moved her leg, making your clothed cunt land on her thigh and you gasped “Accurate. You do taste like you are the one”

Your head started spinning with her words, even more so when she started bouncing her leg with you on top of it as if you weighed nothing. You leaned forward, your hands grabbing the edge of your desk as you tried to hold onto the last strand of sanity in your body to not let the audience think that few seconds of a song turned on your girlfriend enough.

“T-Tasha!” you blurted out the moment her hands moved to your hips and pinned you down. You looked over your shoulder, and she shrugged nonchalantly while wearing a sweet smirk. A smirk that told you it was your call “Guys, we are leaving now. Natasha is really tired...” the redhead laughed out loud behind you, and you whimpered when her hands squeezed your hips when you focused too long on the chat “Yeah, whatever, bye guys, I’ll see you...” Natasha hovered your hand over the mouse, clicking impatiently to end the stream and soon her body was pinning you against the desk “You are like a horny teenager, Tasha!”

“Oh, please! As if you weren’t setting me up for this” the redhead chuckled with her lips on your neck and her hips jerked behind you “Missed you, detka”

Her hand snaked between your thighs, and you moaned when she grabbed your pussy as her teeth sank on your neck “Missed you too, d-daddy”

Natasha chuckled, turning you around to capture your lips with hers in one of those slow and devastating kisses that always made your knees buckle. You whimpered when one of her hands wrapped around your neck and her teeth caught your lower lip. Her tongue swirled inside your mouth, coaxing a moan out that only gave her more room as her teeth clashed against yours, and you sat on the desk with your legs wrapping around her hips and pulled her closer.

“Bed” you murmured against her lips and she hummed.

However, just when she started to carry you towards the bed, Natasha stopped and placed you down. You gave her a confused look, but her grin only widened as you caught the playful twinkle in her eyes.

“Put the song on repeat, I will fuck you to it” your lips parted as blood concentrated in your cheeks, but she only tilted her head to the side and raised a brow “Go”

You moved fast, your hands shaking and clumsy when trying to move. You clicked desperately, grunting when it didn’t work, and you moved the mouse until you saw the cursor on the main screen and played the song.

You stumbled when getting back to your girlfriend, making her giggle as your arms wrapped around her neck, and you pulled her in for a kiss. Your fingers tangled with red wet hair; Natasha’s hands grabbed your waist and your feet danced together as your girlfriend guided you towards the bed without breaking the kiss.

A gasp left your lips when she threw you on the bed, your hand managing to tug her shirt and pull Natasha along. Her lips moved to your jaw then your throat, darting her tongue out to outline it as a moan clawed its way out of your lips.

“You and your incessant need to be chronically online” Natasha said softly against your collarbone as her fingers worked skillfully to unbutton your blouse. You arched your body when her tongue moved to the valley of your boobs and your girlfriend smirked “But you drag me to it when you want this, thinking you can fool me or overpower me” she pushed the bra to the side and you moaned when she started to suck on your nipple.

“I really need you right now” you whined, trying to look down to her as Natasha squeezed your boobs and you bucked your hips up “Please”

Her lips popped, and she grinned when looking at you, opening fully your blouse and running her finger down your abdomen, electrifying your skin with a simple touch.

“But you made me wait, didn’t you? For views and likes, and it makes me wonder if you would let them watch this” you moaned as she unbuttoned your jeans, her eyes snapping up incredulously. Her hands got rid of your jeans with slight help from you, but her eyes kept assessing you and then she laughed “Oh god, you actually would let them watch”

“N-No... Th-that's not...” you stuttered, jerking your body up just in time to watch your girlfriend bury her nose in your cunt, just above the wet patch in your underwear “Natasha”

Natasha inhaled your scent; her mouth watering as an animalistic sound made its way out of her throat. You mewled when she licked over your underwear, your hips bucking up and your pussy leaking. The redhead kept licking your covered cunt, your underwear getting more than ruined but maybe not as much as you with your chin up in the air as your girlfriend’s hands were pinning down your hips.

“Natasha, please” you breathed out, trying to focus as you looked at her again and she only growled “Nat...” she growled again and you whined “Daddy, please!”

Your girlfriend hummed approvingly, placing a chaste kiss over your clit before looking at you. Even under the LED lights barely illuminating the room, you could see — feel was probably more accurate — Natasha's hungry eyes over you, darker and dangerously assessing you.

“Just admit it” she purred, her thumb circling your clit over your underwear making you whimper “Admit you would love it if they watched this — watched you unravel under my touch” she pressed her thumb and you mewled as your body fell completely over the mattress, your hands grabbing a pillow to anchor yourself as you buried half your face in one of your arms “You are just making it worse, detka” she pressed even more as she placed a kiss on your abdomen “Admit it” she licked and sucked your skin “Admit you would love to film a sex tape and post it like the little slut that you...”

“Yes, yes. I would love it” you cried out, your body burning with need “Just please, daddy...” Natasha’s hands ripped a hole in your underwear. You sent her a terrified look before her mouth latched onto your clit “Oh fuck, daddy!”

Your eyes rolled back with your mouth hanging loosely, one hand tugging her hair and the other one grabbing the pillow above you when her tongue travelled over your slit.

Natasha shushed your whine when her lips moved to your inner thighs, sucking gently on your skin and gaining a loud moan. Then, she sucked your labia softly, then your clit, then she dragged her tongue all the way down to your hole and a scream ripped out of your throat when she pushed it inside.

Your girlfriend was always proud of her skills in bed, and god... Natasha had the right to be proud. But she was more than determined to give you the best oral sex ever to that damn song you pushed her to listen.

And if Natasha could, she would bury her face in that pretty pussy of yours. Her chin was covered with your slick and her spit, her fingers digging deeper into your thighs the more you moaned loudly and ground your hips desperately against her face.

“I need your... fuck... fingers, p-please" you whimpered as your girlfriend clicked her tongue and two of her fingers teased your entrance “Please!”

“This is what you want?” she spat her fingers and pushed them inside of you, watching the way your eyes rolled back, and your moans filled the room “Come on, put on a show as if they were watching” her fingers curled inside you and her free hand slapped your pussy, making you mewl loudly “Look at you, slut, all worked up to the idea of having an audience that watches me own this pussy. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

Natasha’s words hit in all the right ways, but it was getting hard to focus with her fingers pumping inside your pussy and feeling your slick dripping down. So, your always impatient girlfriend slapped your pussy again and you opened your eyes.

“Yes, yes. It’s yours, daddy. I’m yours!” you cried out and Natasha clicked her tongue again, catching a last glimpse of your flushed state before going back to eat you out “God, I missed that tongue so much” Natasha growled approvingly, her fingers pumping faster as she sucked your clit and your fingers tugged her hair harder “Yes, daddy, right there... don’t stop, please”

Your girlfriend swirled her tongue, squelching sounds joined your desperate moans and head started to spin, with your body stiffening as you felt your orgasm approaching. Natasha noticed it too, your pussy clenching deliciously and encouraging her to go faster. You ground your hips as your whole body focused on that delicious edge that you were trying to reach and let yourself fall.

Your legs clasped around your girlfriend’s head; the song suddenly was louder, and your moans were matching it. Natasha grunted as her lungs burned, but she kept going as she watched you unravel beautifully.

“Oh, shit, shit. Don’t stop, daddy, never stop. Fuck, fuck, I’m about to...” the redhead managed to nod, and you whined with your face buried in your pillow and your body squirming desperately as your girlfriend tried to anchor you.

Your body started to relax, freeing Natasha from being trapped between your legs as she kept licking softly and teasingly your slit to help you ride down your high. Your eyes fluttered open; your vision blurred, and with those black dots tainting it.

After taking a deep breath and despite your hammering heart, you managed to tap Natasha’s head, and she reluctantly stopped. Her body hovered yours and her hair fell above your face. Your hand caressed her cheek, and you scrunched your nose.

“You are covered in me” you whispered, running a finger over her chin and Natasha caught it, sucking and licking it clean. A satisfied hummed followed after she popped her lips around your finger and you moaned “Shit”

“Such a filthy mouth, detka. We need to do something about it” she purred before kissing you.

Her body weigh felt comfortable over you as she kissed you roughly, desperately, with her arms trapping you and one of her legs in the middle of yours. Then, the kiss turned sweeter as she moved to your chin and your cheeks. Finally, Natasha brushed her nose against yours and watched you intently as you opened your eyes.

“Ready to go again, baby?” Natasha cooed and your cheeks blushed when she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear “I’m not done with you”

You nodded because words would fail you. And Natasha hummed approvingly before going back to attack your neck and make a mess of you.

And while Natasha devoured you, the internet was going wild because you failed to notice you accidentally went live when trying to play the song. They didn’t see, but they heard every delicious word and moan you both poured, and that was more than enough for them to imagine the rest.

Natasha would definitely kill you once she found out. 

And you would do it again, anyway.

———

𓏲ּ𝄢 sugar mommy!natasha loves it when you doll up for her. especially in the clothes she picks out for you. it’s such a turn on when you obey her. she loves it even more when you give her a preview before the date. makes it all the more thrilling when she knows what you wore underneath for her.

y/n sent you a picture!

you: like it?

natasha felt her throat dry once she saw the picture you sent. you were on your knees wearing the lingerie she bought you last week. she could see everything from the face down to your hands clasped over your thighs like she taught you.

ding

you: wearing it for tonite <3 w that dress i bought last week. the pink one! remember?

nat: you’re gorgeous. of course i do, the lace right? can’t wait to rip it off you.

you: yea the lace!! and no u can’t rip i like it a lot!!

natasha chucked under her breath as she read your message. she’d just buy you another one. it wasn’t a big deal.

nat: that’s for mommy to decide, no? be a good girl and send me more pics.

𓏲ּ𝄢 sugar mommy!natasha loves sitting on your face. it’s your reward for being such a good girl for her. she loved the feeling of your fingers gripping her ass as she rode you, fingernails digging into her flesh when you feel lightheaded but you still wouldn’t stop moving your tongue. slurping up all her juices and moaning for her.

her knuckles were white as she gripped the headboard. “just like that baby, just li– like that!” she whimpered when your tongue licked her clit before delving back into her pussy.

you moaned underneath her, hands kneading her thighs as her thrusts became frantic. she was so close. “you’re gonna…” her voice gave out as another moan ripped from her throat. “make mommy come.”

you could feel her pulse on your tongue before warmth filled your mouth. “you did so good. so good. mommy’s perfect girl.” she caressed your hair and lifted her hips to allow you to breathe. but you whined and circled your arms around her thighs trying to pull her back in.

“again.” you whine. and then added, “please mommy.”

an amused huff leaves her mouth. “look at you,” her hand wiped your shiny cum stained lips. “so eager to please mommy.” you nod, leaning into her touch and then kissed the tip of her fingers. “need you, mommy.” you gave her a pleading look.

how could she say no to such an adorable face?

𓏲ּ𝄢 sugar mommy!natasha has a huge collection of strap ons that vary in different sizes. she lets you pick them out depending on your mood but when you acted out she’d pick the biggest one she had before stuffing it down your throat or stretching you out as slowly as she could so she could see your face contort in pleasure and the cute little bulge that appears when she uses her biggest strap.

“think you’re slick?” she snarled, hand coming down on your ass in one quick strike. you whined. “you always take it the wrong way. maria is always nice to me!” she wished you’d stop talking yourself to a bigger hole.

“always, huh? she wants to fuck you little girl.” your dress came off in one clean rip. and you gasped. your favorite!

“such an attention whore. is mommy not enough for you?”

you shook your head. “no that’s not-!”

she cut you off with a smack on your thigh. “take your panties off and spread for me.” you whimpered at the sting but did as you were told.

she hissed at the sight of your wetness. “all this for her?” a warm hand cupped your pussy. it was embarrassing how quickly you became a whimpering mess for her.

“no! no!” you babble, rutting your hips against her palm.

she was quick to snatch her hand away. “keep them open.” she ordered before leaving the bed. you watch as she put on her harness and attach the biggest dildo onto it.

“remember your safe word?” her voice was much softer as she climbed on top of you.

“mhm.”

“words, doll.”

“yes mommy.” she gave you a quick kiss on the nose before lining up against your hole. your arms wrapped around her neck. the anticipation making your skin buzz.

she put the tip in and your mouth formed a small ‘o’. a satisfied smirk bloomed on her face as she went in deeper and deeper till your jaw hung slack. “so fucking pretty. maria could never.”

you gave her a soft yelp as she bottomed out. her eyes searched for any discomfort in yours. “color?”

“green.” you respond airily. still feeling that throb of her fully in you.

“feel that?” her hands smooth down your lower stomach and you could feel a barely there bulge.

“mommy’s here.”

the music in the club was pulsing, you cling onto the drink your friend bought you tightly, as if it were to help you hold your balance. the tangy taste of raspberry hitting your tongue is an experience.. not one you were sure you wanted to have again.

said friend, was now on the other side of the dance floor with a random dude she picked out to dance with her. fair enough, you thought in your solitude.

you felt lonely, which should seem impossible when you’re in a crowded club. however, having no one to actually interact with did make it feel possible. your eyes wandered around the people who frequented the club with you, most of them men with their friends, talking about which girl they should snatch up next, or girls who were there to simply enjoy themselves with their companions.

an interesting sight your eyes ended up on, was a redhead, who smiled lazily while she danced up on some guy. she had this casual lacy black dress on, that reached down to the middle of her thighs.

you, a complete stranger to this woman, were really analyzing her. you felt like a creep, but you were also bored out of your mind. you tear your eyes away from her, afraid she’d catch you staring. you tried to think to yourself about what you’re going to do now, the loud music interrupting your thoughts easily.

the best you could come up with your slightly hazy brain was to go up to the bar and buy her a drink. so what do you do? that, of course.

you walk to the countertop where the drinks were being poured and served, the music quieter in the area. you sit near where the redhead was sat, drinking on her neon orange liquor. it looked like a good drink, she seemed satisfied by it. it also gave you a better idea of what she might like.

you saunter over to her, trying to be ever so charismatic. the redhead gives you a knowing smirk, as if having known what was happening. “hey there,” you speak over the music to her. “can i by you a drink of.. well, whatever you’d like?” you stumble over your words just a bit. she gives a charismatic chuckle and nods. “mm, yeah sure, why not?”

it was easily the prettiest voice you’d heard in your life. she pursed her lips while she thought about what drink she wanted. “a dry martini, please.” she speaks lowly to the bartender, as if it were a secret. she eyes you, how you lean against the countertop, almost stiff.

you give her your name, then decide to ask for hers, “and you are?”

“natasha,” she purrs, “thanks for the drink, cutie.” you almost freeze with her words, a sheepish smile escapes you instead. her martini is quickly made and served for her, which she takes in slowly with a delighted hum.

“so, whatcha doing over here, buying me a drink, huh?” she questions, a teasing smile on her face. “well, i did come here with my friends but.. they all seem to be having fun with their hookups now.” you shrug. “that’s it, huh? just because you were bored?” she tests you. you shake your head, but natasha just laughs at you, “i’m just kidding, sweetheart.” she faux pouts before beginning her next sentence.

“aw, you poor thing, all alone at the club then?” she raises an eyebrow. “i hope not anymore..” you eye her. natasha hums, “i might give you a chance if you get lucky, honey.” you nod, and are silently grateful that the club lights hide your easily blushing face.

she sips on her drink, swinging to the music. natasha out of nowhere, grabs your wrist and looks at you, “cmon, let’s go dance.” before you have a chance to say anything, she quickly finishes her martini and drags you out to the floor.

you catch your balance, steadying yourself as she stops with you somewhere crowded again. you could spot your busy friend from the corner of your eye, but suddenly that didn’t matter anymore.

natasha was swaying along to the music, her back turned to you. you couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by this figure in front of you. you move along too, the alcohol in your system helping you feel less tense in the moment.

only for a while, until natasha snakes her hand to yours, putting them to her waist. she wanted you to hold her while she moved. you gasp involuntarily, as she stirs closer to you.

she moves against you, obviously trying to get a reaction out of you. your instinct was the grip her waist just a tad harder, coaxing a chuckle out of her. you knew she liked what you did when she puts her back against your chest, moving with you more proximately.

you continue doing so, melting into her. natasha enjoys it quite a lot. she likes how easy you are for her. “you like that, cutie?” she teases, her voice a little rough. you could only answer with a bashful hum.

natasha turns around to face you, draping her arms over your shoulders. “i really liked the drink you bought for me..” she murmurs into your ear, so you could really hear her over the obnoxiously loud club music. “you.. yeah?” you breathe to her. “mmhm.. i thought it was real cute how you came over.. so eager to buy me a drink.” she chuckles lazily, caressing your head.

the air felt thicker now, your face reddening with every word natasha spoke. “well.. i’m always happy to—”

“shh.. don’t talk. just keep making cute noises for me.” natasha interrupts you with a finger pressed to your lips. you immediately shut up, a familiar ache in your stomach from her dominant action.

she takes her finger away from your lips, dragging it down your jawline. “you’re real cute..” she teases, leaning in closer. your hands have never left her waist, instead gripping her a bit tighter now.

you breathe steadily, keeping yourself from absolutely freaking out right now. you smile sheepishly. “yeah..?” you mumble out. natasha hums, “yeah.. mm..” it seems like she stops to think for a second.

“come.” natasha then orders, taking your hand. she leads you through the crowd, the fog surrounding everyone along with the pink club lights. natasha drags you to the bathroom, which was surprisingly empty for how many people were inside the bar.

she shoves you into one of the stalls and pins you against the wall. you gasp before she presses her lips against yours. you let a pathetic whimper against her, her hands wandering over your sides.

natasha smiles into the kiss, letting out soft sounds of her own. she pulls away after a bit, leaving you to catch your breath.

“you look way cuter in this light where i can see you blushing better.” she purrs out. you pant, a lot having happened in the past two minutes. you hold onto her waist like it was your lifeline.

natasha snakes her hand up your neck and into your hair, tugging on it slightly. the action makes you moan softly, making her eyes sparkle. “such a pretty sound..” she whispers to you.

you decide to dive for her neck, placing soft kisses over her pulse point. she gasps, her grip on your hair tightening.

the way natasha was holding you only drove you further, so you start to suck gently, leaving red marks over the right side of her neck. you could hear her chuckle breathlessly and whisper sweet nothings to you.

after leaving a few marks, she brings her fingers to your chin, forcing your face back up to hers and draws you back for another kiss. your hands wander down her waist, to her thighs. you bring one up so you could feel her closer.

natasha hums contentedly against your lips, letting her arms drape over your shoulders. you both kiss sloppily, feeling the heat of the moment.

she pulls away, a satisfied smile on her face. natasha looks into your eyes, then over your face. you stand there like an idiot, staring at her as well. she chuckles, and puts something in your pocket. “don’t look yet.” she says, sternly. you obey.

natasha huffs and steps backwards, unlocking the stall door. she walks over to the bathroom mirror and fixes her hair, leaving you dumbfounded in there. you walk out after composing yourself, not daring to look yourself in the mirror yet. you watch her as she puts some lipstick on, it grazes her lips like a paintbrush on a canvas.

she steps back and looks at you, a smirk on her face. natasha leans in, her breath hot on your ear. “you should fix your lips, honey.” she teases and struts to the door, opening it and leaving back into the fog of the club.

you stand there for a good minute, processing what just happened. you finally come to look yourself in the mirror, and see your makeup slightly blurred, especially your lipstick. it’s smudged with her own. you huff and remember she placed something in your pockets and reach for it. it was a piece of paper, which you now carefully unfold.

‘****-****-**, natasha. call me <3’

Natasha has been waiting.

For some reason, you're still not coming to her since that…fateful night.

You still interact with her like usual, but notedly more clingy than before. You'd also taken to cuddling with Nat on the couch while watching TV, making out on pretty much every corner of the apartment, but you had never initiated actual sex. 

No penetration for Natasha. Not even a blowjob, nor a handjob. Just the memory of your moans and that brief touch over boxers and her own hand.

Natasha could just cry.

She thinks of getting out and hooking up with someone, but every time she's close to bringing them home, it feels very wrong.

She even resorted to jerking off to your used panties, inhaling their scent like her life depended on it, even tasting the wet spot.

Pathetic, really. She pities herself.

✧─╌─╌─┈⪧

It’s torture.

But Natasha's a patient person. So if she has to go to one of your friend’s birthday party as a plus one, so be it. 

Better than being alone with her hands, again, she muses.

She's been nursing the same bottle of beer since you’ve arrived, taking slow, bitter sips as her eyes track you flitting across the room. Her gaze turns hungry when it trails down the curve of your ass, that short dress doing wonders in showing off your plump thighs.

Natasha's blood rushes south as she thinks of getting her cock slipping between the apex of your thighs, then when you're wet enough, she can finally slide inside you and fuck you like she's been dreaming of.

She marches to your spot and grabs your arm, and you stumble on your step trying to match her long strides. “Nat, where are we going? It's not over yet, it's just 11 PM!”

“We’re going home, detka.”

You stare at her side profile, trying to make sense of her sudden behavior, but she remains silent.

All the way back to your apartment.

All it was, really, was Natasha trying to keep herself in check as much as she could without jumping your bones right then and there. Her knuckles are white from gripping the wheel, already taking all of her not to yank your thighs open, and claim what's hers.

✧─╌─╌─┈⪧

Natasha’s still quiet as she lets you lead the way back. 

Whatever, you think, as you search your bag for the keys.

Before you can even turn the key, you gasp as Natasha presses you against the door. You look over your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the redhead, but her attention focuses on peppering open-mouthed kisses on your neck, on your nape, anywhere she can reach.

Natasha's strong arms wrap around you, calloused hands making their way to grope your breasts. She lets out a low grunt as she twitches your nipples with her fingers, delighted that you weren't wearing a bra. 

Not that you wear them when you're at home anyway, much to the redhead’s enjoyment. 

You turn your head towards her. “Bet if I slipped my hand under your pants, you'd be hard and leaking for me already, hm? You want me that bad, honey?”

Natasha nods eagerly, but she's not too far gone yet, so her hand snakes down your shorts.

“Look at that, you're so fucking wet. You got this soaked already? Don't even need to prepare you, I can just slide my cock right inside…”

She doesn't, but her hand does cup your cunt. You can feel your slick dripping on your thighs now, but you persist. “Mm, I don't think you deserve it yet, Nat.”

Natasha huffs like a baby. “Please, baby? I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me fuck your tight pussy?”

“Whatever…I…want?” You're pretty close yourself, so you grind against her hand. Nat even stopped humping you for a while to get you to come. You shudder as you come, bucking your ass against Natasha to help her with hers.

“Yeah, detka. Pretty please?” She jerks her hips against your ass, pressing her rock-hard dick to get as much friction as she can through several layers of clothing between you.

God, she can't wait to be inside you.

You’d laugh at her and probably tease her for this, Natasha Romanoff, desperately humping you against the front door outside. You couldn't even make it in, giving a free show to a lucky neighbor who’d happen to go out at this time.

“That’s it, baby. Cum,” you encourage, feeling how close she is with the erratic hump to chase her orgasm. Natasha's head rests in the nook of your neck as she spills hot cum inside her trousers. Your name leaves her lips in a whispered whine.

Natasha looks down at the wet spot on her pants with a shake of her head. She doesn't know if she should be embarrassed by how hot she thinks it was—and by the look in your eyes, she knows you feel the same.

“Better?”

you adjust the baseball cap on your head, your eyes scanning the lot in front or you. you shrink down in the driver seat of your car—your stolen car—or rather “borrowed” since natasha allowed you to take it for the little game you were playing.

your girlfriend was many things. a hunter, you didn’t believe was one of them, but she seemed eager to prove you wrong when you proposed a game of chase.

did she have certain skills given her line of work? yes. that, and a lot of money, but you refused to think she was capable of finding you in a city as busy and crowded as this one.

here were the ground rules: you had a 30 minute head start, you had to stay within a 20 mile radius, send “check-in” texts every hour, and she had 24 hours to find you. simple enough.

to make things fair, she disabled the tracker on the borrowed car you were driving and you turned off your phone location. you didn’t dare say this to her face before the game began, but you highly doubted her ability to find you.

peering at the dashboard clock, the numbers flashed 2:07pm. you left the house at 9am. five hours without so much as a glimpse of her car within your general vicinity had you feeling a little cocky.

you continue sipping on your red bull, scanning the grocery store parking lot for any signs of natasha. it felt silly because despite feeling confident in your ability to evade her, you still found yourself paranoid anytime you were stationary or got out of the car. there was something so thrilling about it though. for the first couple of hours, you played it safe and stayed within the confines of your vehicle.

now though, you didn’t stay in one spot for more than 20 minutes. you drove to several spots in town, parking close to the front and walking through stores, boutiques and shops. your heart pounded in your chest every time. your eyes would scan the crowds for red hair, your stomach turning inside out whenever you saw a flash of red but then having it turn out to not be her.

your phone buzzes in the cup holder. you pick it up without a second thought.

You’re getting comfortable.

your heart skips a beat, breath hitching as you reread those 3 simple words. you look up again, scanning the lot—nothing. not her. not her car. you relax only slightly.

i’ve been comfortable this whole time.

you send the text, not wanting to appear phased. you look up again, skimming through the small groups of people exiting and entering the store. no red hair and no otherwise obvious evidence that she was here. your phone buzzes again.

Is that right?

you scoff at her arrogance. you could practically hear the text as you read it. you don’t reply, not wanting to engage when the stakes suddenly felt a little higher.

the text was pretty generic. she could have sent that from anywhere without actually having eyes on you. at least that’s what you told yourself.

you take the last gulp of your red bull, crumpling the can in your hand. with a renewed sense of determination, you decide to head to your next spot. as you pull out of the lot, you swear you see her. for a second, you’re sure. the angle of the car, the way it’s parked. watching. before you can zero in on the sight to be certain, a blur of cars driving in both directions blocks your view—and then it’s gone.

3 more hours pass. the clock now reads 5:30pm. your stomach grumbles, protesting the fact that all you had emptied into it today was a red bull and decaf coffee. you were so on edge for most of the day, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat. just when you would finally relax into your seat, you thought you saw a glimpse of her, or her car or she sent a text. it was a constant panic loop you couldn’t pull yourself out of.

your car passes several restaurants, your stomach growling once again at the prospect of being ignored any longer. you sigh, turning right into a small strip mall near the edge of your 20 mile radius.

you pull into the drive thru of a fast food place, barely glancing at the menu as you order whatever was listed towards the top.

you park at the very end of the strip mall, backing into your spot. this way, you had the whole view of the parking lot. the nice part about this time of year was that the sun didn’t set until 7pm, not fully disappearing until nearly 8. good lighting was useful.

you crack open your chicken nuggets, biting into it without dipping it into any sauce. you didn’t want to open one in case you had to make a mad dash out of the lot. you were sure natasha would not be happy if you spilled sweet and sour sauce all over her console.

Mcdonalds? We haven’t had that in awhile.

you stop chewing your bite. your eyes zero in on your phone screen before it times out and turns black. she had been playing with you like this all day.

lucky guess.

you manage to type out after a couple of minutes. you knew she was onto you.

I hope you’re not making a mess. Third nugget and no sauce? Disappointing.

you grumble. if she was really here, why doesn’t she just end it now? the fact that she was toying with you was equally as frustrating as it was arousing.

where are you? you send with a huff.

you wait five minutes for a response before you realize she’s not going to answer.

the sun was gone now, replaced by a crescent moon and stars. when you looked at your phone before exiting the car, the numbers read 9:17pm.

you had been driving aimlessly for the last few hours, unsure where to park or where to go. you had half a mind of returning back home. you figured natasha wouldn’t expect you to go there, but that felt too much like giving up, and you refused to quit. what made this even more maddening was the fact that she had been completely silent for the last 4 hours. she said nothing to your hourly check-in texts. no taunting, no teasing, and certainly no surrender. it was because of that, you decided to brave the wild and step out of the car for the first time that evening.

you’re now walking through a mall. even though it was a little late, it was still pretty crowded given that it was a saturday. you hoped that would work in your favor if she did find you here.

you shop in a few stores, perusing the racks and politely declining when the employees ask to start a changing room for you. you even stop by a little store where they sell puppies. they were so stinking cute, all sleepy and snuggly after a long day of having people come look at them. you wished you could take all of them home with you.

a smell catches your attention. a sweet, mouth watering smell that could only belong to…

wetzels pretzels. your favorite.

you grin to yourself, picking up the pace as you walk to the end of the line of stores.

“hi, what can i get for you today?” the employee behind the counter asks. you already knew exactly what you wanted.

“can i get an order of the cinnamon sugar pretzels bites?” you pull out your wallet from your bag, sure to grab your own credit card instead of the one natasha gave you. you wouldn’t be so stupid as to pay for something on her account when she was probably monitoring for any purchases you made.

you thank the employee and grab your pretzel bites, turning to continue walking aimlessly around the mall. at least now you had a yummy snack.

your phone buzzes. you pull it out of your pocket and read the incoming text.

Second floor.

Just passed H&M.

you pause, stopping in your tracks. you stare at the words for several more seconds before slowly turning to confirm you did indeed just pass H&M. she was here.

you swallow thickly, the pretzel sliding down your now dry throat. you turn around, expecting to see her standing off the distance. you see a flicker of red, but then it’s gone. your eyes dart around anywhere you can see—over the balcony, across the way, to the right, to the left. you focus in on a eyeglass store downstairs across from you. peering over the railing, you see a woman with red hair tied in a loose bun resting at the nape of her neck. her back is to you. you’re still not sure if it’s natasha.

your eyes drift to her hands as she runs a finger along the rows of glasses neatly hanging on the stand. your gaze lifts, settling on a small rectangular mirror.

you gasp.

green eyes pierce through tipped-down sunglasses.

it’s her.

she really is here.

you watch her lips curve into a smirk.

she’s not turning around. do you run?

your phone buzzes again.

Now run.

Don’t get lost.

you don’t let yourself think about it a second longer. you turn and walk as fast as you can to blend into a crowd of people, hoping you can lose her.

you take the nearest exit, high tailing it to your car. you glance behind several times, expecting to catch natasha off in the distance. you never do.

you fumble through your bag for the car keys. your hands are shaking, your heart pounding. you drop them twice before managing to press the unlock button.

you make quick work of starting the car and pulling out of your parking spot. now where to go?

you drive around aimlessly for what felt like the 100th time that day. where would natasha think you wouldn’t go? what’s the last place she’d expect to find you?

the abandoned parking garage off of 7th and north point.

it was enclosed and had multiple exits. you figured it’d be a lot harder for her to remain incognito if she found you there—and if she did, you had many ways to escape.

you do a u-turn, heading towards the garage. when you get there, you notice a few cars sprinkled throughout the first floor. you weren’t surprised as it was a common make-out spot for teenagers.

you drive up the ramp to the top floor and park close to one of the exits. thick concrete columns break up the space, blocking clean sightlines. still…you’d see her if she came up here.

right?

you check your phone. no texts.

it was now just past 10pm.

13 hours.

you should feel proud for making it this far. halfway.

you don’t.

your skin hasn’t stopped prickling all day. your stomach’s been in knots for hours.

and now, something shifts.

it’s subtle. barely there.

but it’s enough.

goosebumps rise along your arms. your heart stutters.

you close your eyes and take a couple of steadying breaths.

she’s not here. you’re safe.

you repeat it in your head three times. it doesn’t stick.

you need air.

you glance at the clock one more time before killing the engine and stepping out.

the garage is quiet.

your footsteps echo as you move toward the far edge where there are some stairs and the open cut in concrete so you can overlook the levels below.

you exhale through puffed out cheeks, trying to shake off your paranoia.

it clings.

you walk a few more steps and then stop.

…..

was that another set of footsteps?

you turn quickly, scanning the empty rows.

nothing. no movement. no cars. no one.

something shifts behind you. small, but loud enough to capture your attention.

you turn.

red hair.

you see it.

you take two more steps forward, natasha coming fully into view.

leaning against a concrete column. composed. controlled.

“y’know… an abandoned garage is no place for a little girl like you to be.”

you freeze, only half believing she was really here in front of you.

“i’m a little disappointed.” she pushes off the column, stalking towards you. “you’ve been so predictable.”

“what?” you manage, your voice thinner than you intended. your brain running on adrenaline all day now feels slow—heavy.

she stops right in front of you. close. her hands stay at her sides as her gaze drags slowly over you.

“i wanted more of a challenge.” her full lips turn into a small pout—completely out of place for her.

“what?” you echo, incredulous now. “it’s been all day.”

natasha’s eyes darken. her expression shifts to something more sharp—cold, even.

“oh, sweetheart…you don’t really think i didn’t know where you were all this time?”

you shudder—just slightly.

she notices. she notices everything.

she chuckles, low and quiet. your heart kicks back into a sprint.

she reaches out slowly.

that’s when you run.

your footsteps pound against the concrete, echoing too loud in the empty space.

the car—

you reach it, fumbling for the handle, yanking the door open—

it stops.

her hand catches it.

she’s right behind you.

“this was your plan?”

her voice is right at your ear. close enough to make you shiver.

you suck in a breath, trying to twist away.

you don’t get far.

her hand slides to the edge of the door, pushing it shut with an easy, controlled motion.

the sound clicks louder than it should.

final.

your back hits the car before you even realize she’s moved you there.

one hand plants beside your head against the metal, the other settling at your waist. her touch is light but unyielding. not rough.

just…there. boxing you in.

you freeze.

she doesn’t.

she leans in slightly, close enough you can feel the heat of her, the steady rhythm of her breathing—calm. unchanged.

it was like she didn’t spend the last thirteen hours chasing you around the city.

like she knew exactly how this would end.

“thirteen hours.” she murmurs, sounding thoughtful.

she pauses.

“i was expecting more.”

her fingers shift just slightly at your waist, dipping underneath the hem of your shirt.

you know you’re not going anywhere now.

you don’t move. you don’t think you can.

her hand lingers there, warm against your skin—like she has all the time in the world.

like she always did.

her fingers begin to draw small, lazy lines along your hip.

“you really thought you were ahead.” she murmurs, quieter. closer.

“it’s almost…cute.” she adds. not quite mocking, but almost.

you can’t speak. no coherent thoughts are forming in your mind.

“i hope you had fun though..” she pauses. her nails scratch along your skin.

your pulse stutters.

“because it’s my turn now.” she says quietly.

you whimper, the sound coming out before you can stop it.

she leans in slowly, a smirk playing on her lips as her eyes glance at your parted ones.

you think she means to kiss you, but at the last second, she turns her head and presses her lips against your jaw.

her free hand travels up your body. she grabs your jaw, her grasp more firm than before as she tilts your head up. her lips make their way down to your throat.

your breathing is ragged, too loud in this big empty space.

she sinks her teeth into your neck.

you gasp, your knees buckling at the sensation. the hand on your hip holds you steady. you’re not going anywhere.

she soothes the sting with her hot tongue, only lingering there for a moment before pulling back just an inch.

she holds your chin between her thumb and pointer finger. her eyes burn into yours. there’s an intensity there, like something is about to come uncaged.

she slides a hand around you, opening the door to the backseat.

“watch your head.” she guides you to the opening, pushing you down into the car with a hand resting against the back of your head so you don’t bump it.

you follow her lead, too invested in the game now to protest.

you lay back across the seats. natasha’s movements are slow as she ducks her head under the hood and climbs into the car.

it’s a small, confined space but between the warmth of natasha’s body above you and the cushion of the seats beneath you, you were fine.

“did you do as i asked this morning?” she asks. you quickly run through your morning before you left to begin the chase.

what did she ask again?

it was…

oh—

“yes.” you nod your head, swallowing thickly. you feel heat pooling between your legs.

“so, when i take these off, i’m not going to see any panties—is that right?” she asks, her fingers skimming across the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt had ridden up.

you shake your head, affirming her question.

without another word, her fingers hook into your waistband to pull your pants down over your hips. she adjusts her body so she’s half sitting the furthest away from your head, just by your feet.

she discards your pants to the side, exposing your dampening core.

you press your thighs together. you were embarrassed at the prospect of her discovering just how much you were enjoying this power dynamic.

“open your legs, let me see.” it wasn’t a question.

your legs part. cool air tickles your core and inner thighs. your cheeks burn at the exposure, but you still don’t protest.

natasha’s fingers tease along your leg. her journey is slow—unhurried. when she gets to your thigh, she lingers there, drawing invisible patterns on your sensitive skin.

she gives the same treatment to your other thigh. occasionally, she massages the fleshiest part, so close to your core but still too far away.

you exhale shakily, beginning to squirm. you can feel your arousal dripping down your slit.

natasha is silent this whole time, merely taking in your reactions with a smooth, almost thoughtful expression.

you were almost angry at the amount of control. almost.

her palm slides from hip to hip and then dips down, the heel of her palm just grazing your swollen clit.

you chase the sensation, your hips rising off the seats beneath you.

her hand retreats, going back to teasing your thighs.

you’re about to protest when her fingers begin to tease your lips. she uses her pointer and middle finger to trace down your vulva.

you feel her apply pressure, spreading your lips so she can now clearly see how wet you’ve become.

you glance at her face, desperately hoping for more. more touch, more of a reaction—anything.

she tilts her head to the side, her gaze never straying from what her hand was doing.

she runs the tip of her finger down your slit, gathering some wetness at your opening before sliding back up. she rubs a gentle circle around your clit, your breath hitching at the feeling.

she adjusts her hand. she holds your lips apart with her thumb and middle finger, her pointer swirling tiny little circles right over your most sensitive spot.

she stays quiet.

like she feels no need to fill the silence with words.

like there’s no need to continue to tell you how predictable you are—how well she knows you. your body. your mind. your habits.

she keeps up those steady circles, maintaining the same speed and pressure. that familiar feeling begins to bloom in your lower belly, a sign of impending release.

your body bucks into her hand, your breaths coming in little gasps.

you feel yourself getting closer and closer. your eyes drift closed as you feel the coil about to snap.

she stops.

you open your eyes. she cleans off her fingers with her mouth. you see a glimpse of her pink tongue darting out to taste your arousal.

you squirm at the sight.

she’s watching your expression now, no doubt wanting you to beg for her.

you pout, your hands reaching for her.

you’ll take anything, so long as she doesn’t stop.

“i know, baby.” she speaks for the first time in several minutes. it’s like she can read your mind.

“you wanna cum, don’t you?” she croons empathetically.

you nod your head, a pout still on your lips.

she starts to unzip her pants, pulling them down over her hips. a faux cock springs free, bobbing in the air just between you.

she grabs onto it, stroking it slowly as if the appendage were actually attached to her body.

you watch, mesmerized.

“you will.” she declares, lining herself up with your sopping entrance.

“i’ve been waiting for this all fucking day.”

she enters you in one swift motion. you gasp in surprise, your palms bracing against her hips. the stretch was bordering on unpleasant.

she doesn’t give you time to adjust, seeming to finally have had enough with patience.

“you can take it, baby. come on.” she grunts, thrusting into you.

she fucks you, slow and deep. each thrust moves not only your body, but also the car.

you moan with each move of her hips. you’re being loud, but neither of you really care.

every stroke felt more sensitive than the last. the ridges and veins in her cock rub so perfectly against every spot.

“no matter how far you run,” she pauses, grunting as she picks up the pace.

“you’ll always end up right here.”

thrust.

“beneath me.”

thrust.

“just like this.”

your hands desperately clammer up her body, seeking purchase anywhere you can grab. you’re so close, you just need a little bit more.

“i’ll always find you.” she growls, her grip tightening on your hips.

“always.”

her pace quickens again. your jaw goes slack as moans and obscenities fill the space of the car.

“say it.” she growls again, a hand coming up to wrap possessively around your throat.

“you’ll always find me!” you sob, your eyes wet with unshed tears of pleasure. your thighs begin to shake, your muscles tightening.

“that’s it.” she praises, her fingers reaching down to pinch your clit. it takes mere seconds before the coil finally snaps and you’re blinded with white hot pleasure.

your back arches, legs shaking as you cum—hard. she doesn’t stop fucking you until she follows suit, cumming with a whispered “fuck” right next to your ear.

she collapses on top of you.

well, not fully. still though, the weight of her is comforting as you both catch your breath.

your hands gently stroke along her arms and you reach a hand up to tuck some stray hair behind her ear.

natasha swipes some wayward hair out of your face as well. she strokes her thumb along your bottom lip.

“‘tasha?” you ask gently, your glassy eyes gazing into hers.

“hmm?” she replies.

“i love you.” you tell her. you really mean it.

“and…”

pause.

“i think we should do this again sometime.”

natasha chuckles at that. you were always so eager to play games with her.

“we can do it again. as long as you promise to do better next time.” she teases, though actually, you’re sure she means it.

“i will.” you mean that too.

Natasha’s gaze is steady on the ceiling. Focused and unblinking, like she would miss the sound if she closed her eyes for a millisecond. She lies on her mattress, arms crossed behind her head. Natasha’s jaw ticks as time passes by, and her heart’s starting to beat to the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Her jeans begin to tent as her ears start to isolate the sound of your breathy moans and needy whine, forgetting just for a moment that it’s somebody else who pulls those sounds out of you. It’s taking all of her not to palm herself to full erection, but god damn it if she’s not jealous of whoever’s fucking you right now.

Maybe you knew she was going to come back early, so you brought someone home with you. It’s probably your revenge for all those times she too brought a girl back without warning you, and that one time she’s gotten so horny they didn’t even make it to her room, and you walked in on them getting nasty on your sofa.

Natasha wasn’t able to forget how flustered you looked that night, and with your cries of pleasure, her mind supplies her with images of how you look right about now.

Fuck it.

She unzips her jeans and hastily pulls them down along with her briefs. Natasha spits on her palm and begins stroking her dick, and groans at the contact.

The tip of your fingers would probably barely touch when wrapped around her. Oh, how she wishes it was you. 

Natasha wanted to just barge in and get rid of whoever was with you and take their place. To let her hands explore how warm your skin would be, to watch as a shiver runs through it as she trails her tongue down the expanse of your abdomen.

How you’d fit on her cock like you’re made for it.

Any other time, she would take her time to explore and worship every part of you, have you come again and again and again with her tongue. On her tongue.

But right now, her strokes get faster as you whimper, “I’m fucking close, don’t you fucking stop.”

If it was her, she’d make you beg for it, but nonetheless, the expletives made her cock twitch, and her hips buck into her hand to chase her high at the same time as you. Go on, baby, cum with me. 

“I’m coming, oh you feel so fucking good, Nat, fuck!”

Natasha just moaned out loud.

She spills into her hand and some spurt into her tummy and thighs, and yet she still can't stop gripping her cock up and down, milking herself dry.

Her ears are still ringing with how you cried her name, and she's not even sure if that was real. It's not long until she comes again, this time with your freshly fucked face etched into her mind. 

Natasha looks at her cum stained hand as her breath returns to normal. She's sure your pussy would look heavenly with her spend leaking out of your cunt. 

She hears the telltale sign of that person scrambling out of the room. Natasha smiles. It's not serious if they're not staying the night.

Good.

When she hears the door shut, Natasha wipes her cum on her briefs as she puts them back on, leaving her jeans out on the floor. Her oversized shirt reaches the hem of her undies, she thinks it's decent enough, and walks out of her room.

Natasha sees you stop in your tracks as you see her by the fridge, pouring two glasses of water. Her eyes never leave you as you step closer, only speaking as she hands you the other glass.

“Didn't know you're home early, Nat.”

“Sure did.”

“I wish you told me, so I could—”

“Could what? Not bring someone here?”

“I— even if I did, it's none of your business. You always bring a girl into your room, so why can't I?”

Natasha closes the distance, and she feels your breath hitch as she turns to whisper in your ear. “I didn't say anything that you can't, detka. But if you do, maybe don't moan someone else's name, yes? I kinda feel bad for your hookup.”

She absolutely doesn't, and she's still not sure whether what she heard earlier was not a figment of her imagination, but with the way your breath just stuttered—she gets the confirmation she needs.

And fuck if it's not the sexiest thing ever. You, moaning her name, thinking of her while somebody else is fucking you?

She's getting hard again.

“If you just make a move, you could have this all for yourself, y’know?” Natasha raises her shirt to let you see her bulge, letting her dick flex against her boxers. She smirks as she follows your gaze down. “No bringing home strangers anymore. Just you and me, baby girl.”

Your eyes meet hers again. “C-can I?”

Natasha’s tongue is in her cheek as she thinks about it. Of course, you can, so she grabs your hand and lets you palm her clothed cock, but she wants to give it to you properly. She wants you clean, devoid of the trace of the stranger’s touch on your body. 

Hers.

As much as it pains Natasha, she pulls back from your touch. “It's getting late, baby. Rest up. We’ll talk about this again in the morning.”

You could only stare at her back as she retreated to her room, feeling your cunt clench around nothing with her parting words. 

If jealousy could kill, Natasha would be six feet under. It all started with a discomfort in Natasha's chest. Every time she felt it, she would leave the place and go to her room to take a hot bath or go to the gym.

Charli was a SHIELD agent who was rising too fast for Natasha's liking. The worst part was that she couldn't even demand anything because the two of them were just friends. And that term haunted her in a terrifying way. Friends, only friends. A lie!

That morning, almost everyone was gathered for breakfast, as some were about to begin training and others were going about their routine tasks. When Natasha entered the kitchen, her green eyes focused on something that almost made her turn around and leave.

You were already there, but next to you was Charli, who had her best smile reserved only for you. And you were smiling back as you enthusiastically and energetically told her something.

Charli was the same age as you, 27, intelligent and resilient. She was exceeding all the agents' expectations, which is why she was transferred to spend two months at the complex training with the best.

You didn't even notice the redhead's arrival, and that bothered her quite a bit. She tried to ignore it, but the last straw for her was when her coffee ran out and she had to watch Charli pour you more coffee and offer you another sandwich, which you accepted with a smile.

She felt a tightness in her chest and refused to look for the reason. Ironically, Charli was supposed to be training with her that day. Unfortunately for Charli, or perhaps for her sanity.

You noticed Natasha in the kitchen and smiled at her, a radiant smile that made your dimples quite visible. "Good morning, Nat," you said, turning your body towards the spy's. She only murmured a greeting and returned the smile, a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Your smile faded slowly, and you stood up, making the excuse that you were late for your morning appointments, and said goodbye to Charli with a hug and the promise of lunch at the Italian restaurant you're obsessed with.

Natasha didn't hold back, not even close. She didn't even wait for Charli to recover before making her move. The girl was visibly nervous and awkward for the first time in her entire training. She sensed something was wrong, but didn't know what it was. To her, Natasha was just having a difficult day, or perhaps she was testing her limits to see if she would give up on training at the complex.

"One minute, I beg you," Charli stretched her arms toward Natasha as she tried to regulate her panting breath. She hated this training with the Black Widow. She knew she was training with the best in the world, and the best in the world wasn't making it easy for her.

"Your enemies won't wait a minute for you to recover, agent," the redhead's voice was harsh. Natasha stepped away from Charli and walked toward her water bottle.

"Sorry, I just wasn't prepared," Charli defended herself, already getting up from the floor and walking towards the bench. "Your opponent isn't going to wait for you to be ready, especially if you're trying to take something that belongs to him." The atmosphere grew tense; even Steve, who was punching a heavy bag, stopped and stared at Natasha with a raised eyebrow.

"But let's not dwell on that, darling," Natasha smiled at Charli and approached her. The girl blinked once, and her heart raced; it wasn't the kind of heartbeat you get when your love is approaching. She felt like Natasha was a lioness and she was prey about to be torn apart right there, in front of Captain America. "Especially since you have lunch waiting for you, and it's almost time," the redhead stopped a few steps from the agent and stretched out her arm, which grazed Charli. Natasha grabbed her gym bag and left with the energy of someone who had left a very clear warning. Stay away.

When the doors closed, Charli released the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "She's intense," she said, looking at Steve, who was still watching everything, already having an idea of what was happening. "She's Natasha," he replied, and went back to his exercise on the punching bag.

Lunch between you and the agent went smoothly. The funny thing was that neither of you saw the relationship as having romantic intentions. It was just a very close friendship, perhaps even too close for other people to see.

The week went by, and every time you tried to talk to Natasha, she was vague, as if she wasn't in the mood to interact, and you respected that and withdrew. Because of this, the pajama nights, trips to the movies, and dinners started to involve a new person. Instead of Natasha, it was Charli who accompanied you on all of these occasions.

Natasha was already busy trying to get rid of the feeling. Passion? Jealousy? Concern? It wasn't any of that, well, that's what she told herself. She lied in front of the mirror, she lied in her thoughts when she passed by with her arms intertwined with the new girl. Until one night of wine and games that Tony organized. It was a Friday when everyone was gathered.

You were wearing simple, comfortable clothes. Natasha was playing with the wine in her hand while Steve and Clint were playing a spy game. Even distracted, she won. She looked at you and you were laughing while playing Uno with Charli, Kate, and Yelena. The redhead rolled her eyes and looked at Yelena, who was already staring at her sister with a raised eyebrow. She just shook her head and went back to focusing on her next round of the game.

At the end of the night, Charli said goodbye with a hug and a kiss on the forehead. She said she needed to wake up early the next day but that the night had been pleasant. You smiled and wished her goodnight, and as soon as she left, Clint called you over to sit with them. You stood up with a smile and sat right in front of the redhead, next to Steve.

Natasha looked at you with an amused expression, a feigned amusement. "Has your girlfriend already gone to sleep?" When she said that, the atmosphere at the table changed. "Who? Charli? She's just a friend," you said, frowning and feeling a strange sensation.

Clint and Steve exchanged glances and got up from the table, muttering apologies that they were going to find someone.

"I thought you two were practically living together by now, with all the time you spend dating," she said, giving you an intense look. "Natasha, I don't understand you," you said, taking a deep breath. "First you act weird around me for days, and now you're asking stupid questions." She gave a fake smile, and you continued, "You're a spy. You should know I have nothing to do with her besides a new friendship." With that, you got up from the table and left the room.

Natasha realized her mistake immediately and went after you. Her steps were quick, and when you realized you were being followed, you started walking faster. Until she got into the elevator with you. Something you hated.

"Stop following me"

"We need to talk properly," she said, still keeping her distance from you, even though she knew you were angry with her.

"Talking about how fucking weird you are?", you replied, rolling your eyes and wanting to cry, but you held back the tears as much as possible. "I'm sorry, I thought that..."

"You were wrong, Natasha," her heart was racing. "You're a spy, you're a queen of body language, and you didn't realize what I never really hid?" you approached her with faltering steps. "Natasha, it's always been you, damn it, I hate myself so much for loving you."

That was a slap in the face for the redhead. You confessed your feelings. But you were only her friend.

The elevator arrived at your floor and you walked out, your legs trembling and your heart pounding. But Natasha didn't even let you touch the doorknob. She grabbed your arm and pulled you into a kiss.

Their lips met in a way that felt like fireworks were being launched into your soul. You didn't pull away, you didn't stop her, you opened up, giving her tongue space to explore your mouth.

She slowly stepped back and looked into your eyes; you blinked slowly and smiled.

Everything happened so fast. The wine was in her system, and it was taking effect. You invited her in, and when you closed the door, she pinned you against it, her breathing already heavy. Her pussy was already getting wet.

She looked at you with such intensity. A hunger of someone who couldn't wait any longer. "Damn," Natasha sniffed your neck before giving it a light bite. "I've waited so long for this, waited so long," "My love, I've always loved you."

"I love you too, Natasha," you said, stealing a kiss from her, and added something that made Natasha completely surrender to you.

"Then eat me up real good"

She threw you onto the bed and in seconds you were both naked. You arched your back, your pussy touching her abdomen. You were both dying of lust and pent-up desire that had been building for years.

Natasha wasn't wasting any time; she needed you, she needed to taste you in her mouth. She needed to know what it felt like to have your pussy on her tongue.

She kissed you passionately before moving down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and light bites wherever she went.

When she reached your pussy, she left a wet kiss right on your clitoris, which made you moan and raise your hips. Natasha looked at you, her eyebrows already furrowed and her gaze affectionate.

"It is good too?"

You simply nodded and let out a very low, seductive moan.

Natasha looked at her pussy and their lips touched as if she'd been starving for years. It was magical, something natural. Her tongue and her pussy. It was as if they were destined for this, the sensation was inexplicable. And you came in less three minutes, unable to hold back.

Natasha waited for her spasms to subside before the next step. She lay down on the bed and sat you on her stomach. You'd always had a crush on her; she'd always caught you staring at her abs during some workouts, but she was so oblivious.

You stared at her and she gave a sly smile. She placed one hand on your waist and the other on your butt, and you started rubbing against her, desperately, eye to eye. You placed both hands on her shoulders. Your breasts were bouncing, her breasts were swaying. You were so close and it was embarrassing to yourself to orgasm for the second time in such a short time. And she wasn't being gentle this time; the hand that was on your butt was slapping hard, leaving the marks of the black widow's fingers on you.

"Come for me," she moaned in a hoarse, needy voice, and you came on her abdomen. But you didn't even have time to recover this time because Natasha had already turned you over. Your back hit the mattress.

It was nonstop sex and you were loving it. Her pussy was wet and throbbing, and when she touched your pussies, it felt like stepping into the ocean.

Natasha arched her back; you were underneath, still sensitive, but the wine was making you a desperate slut. So you started rubbing against her, and she responded slowly, fitting perfectly after a few seconds.

Their bodies were in a dance. She was in control; you gave her control.

Full of lust and need, she brought her left hand to her cheeks, Natasha opened her mouth and you stuck your tongue out. She spat into your mouth and you swallowed with a moan. Sweaty, wet and desperate. With one more thrust she came inside your pussy, with a hoarse and delicious moan that you would die to hear again.

Her face was already flushed from the heat in the room. She gently guided you to the bathroom. Strands of red hair were stuck to her forehead with sweat, and some of yours were also pressed against your cheek.

The bathroom was white, with modern architecture of the highest possible quality. A huge mirror was attached to the wall, connected to the vanity unit.

She positioned you facing the mirror. Your breathing was still a little heavy from the previous orgasms. Natasha had a smile on her face, and you had an expression of someone who had been destroyed but was still ready for more.

Their naked bodies touched. You had the natural reaction of sticking your butt out, finding her still-wet vagina even more exposed.

Her breathing was heavy, right on your neck. She didn't suckle right away; she ran her nose all over your neck, as if following your veins. Your body was in a kind of shiver you'd never felt before.

Lust, desire, anticipation, passion, and surrender. That's what was happening between the two of you.

She placed a kiss on your right shoulder, and you tilted your head slightly to the side. After the kiss, she cupped your left breast with one hand, while the other rested on your waist. With that, she licked the same spot where her nose had touched seconds before.

"Natasha...", you couldn't take it anymore. This was worse than before. And she didn't even respond to your desperate, longing moan.

She moved away from you and leaned forward slightly. Natasha looked at your perfectly pert bottom facing her. She smiled when she saw the marks of her finger.

You looked her straight in the eyes through the mirror. And your gaze shifted the moment she looked at you. With that, she grabbed your hair at the nape of your neck and twisted it into an improvised hairstyle. Natasha brought her face closer to the mirror, and you stared at yourself.

"Look at yourself, princess," you nodded slightly. "You look beautiful like that," your face was covered in sweat, traces of Natasha's saliva mixed with the wetness of your vagina. You were a mess.

Her pussy was still wet, her body still arched, and so she took two fingers and penetrated her pussy at an angle that made it impossible not to let out a loud moan. But she just kept thrusting and didn't move an inch.

Her mouth was in a perfect O and her eyes were closed. Natasha knew exactly what she was doing, so without waiting another second she started fucking you hard in a way that you didn't care about the incoherent moans coming from your mouth. Desperate moans.

Her hand gripped the sink tightly, her backside was sticking out nicely, and there wasn't a shred of shame in that bathroom.

And she ate you up deliciously with a smile on her face.

Just as you were about to climax, she stopped, and you let out a frustrated groan and looked at her with a frustrated expression, but she grabbed your waist and led you to the shower. She turned it on, and as the water began to fall, Natasha kissed you hungrily. You reciprocated and began rubbing your wet, aching pussy against her.

Natasha pushed you against the wall in a position where your back was split between the shower stall and the wall. She lifted your leg, which was resting against the other wall, and bit your right breast hard. Without wasting another second, she again inserted two fingers into your vagina at an angle that made your eyes roll back. She was fucking you hard, while holding you to prevent you from falling.

It all started on a trip to Berlin. You didn't like at all the looks and smiles that the flight attendant was giving to your wife. You were already having a terrible flight because of nausea and dizziness, every time you got on a plane it was like that. Now the last straw was the blonde smiling at Natasha.

When you arrived at the hotel, the goal was to take a shower, lie down and sleep, without even giving Natasha a kiss. You were impatient and just needed to rest your back even though you had come first class

Your steps were light and tired. Shoulders low and deep breathing when the first drops of water fell over your head. Natasha tried to enter the bathroom but the door was locked, a warning. After the shower you unlocked the door and walked calmly to the towel. You dried yourself calmly while feeling a pair of eyes in your direction.

To sleep only a black panty was put on. Without saying anything you lay down and wrapped yourself, without wishing good night or a kiss. You were trying to punish Natasha for something that she wasn't even guilty of. It was just a spoiled attitude coming from you and she knew that it would end sooner or later in a not good way. The physical distance didn't help at all because in the middle of the night, even sleeping, you searched for her arms and threw a leg over her and buried your face in her neck.

At breakfast you were already needy and kissed her with a certain sweetness, so for her the punishment ended, well, it had really ended. You just wanted to enjoy the city during those five days. Five days away from work.

You walked around the whole city, got to know places that you had saved on pinterest, it was your first time in Berlin. You took several photos at the Berlin cathedral, besides spending hours in the museum with a very patient Natasha by your side.

In the late afternoon you both went to a restaurant where you were willing to be spoiled all night, you were willing to give your wife work that day.

It started with a drink, a peck, then another drink and a wet kiss. And you were the one who pulled, you held her cheek, you were the one who spread kisses across her face.

Your mind went back to hours earlier in the hotel room. You had had a tiring day from walking so much, however she wanted to take you to a bar she went to years ago. So you decided that you would take revenge for what happened on the plane, even though she had no fault at all. The goal maybe was to look at some woman and say that she was very beautiful, but nothing beyond that.

Black knee high boots with a heel so thin it could kill, a black leather skirt with a black blouse. The final touch, without panties, the pussy totally exposed, only covered by the short skirt. And you were not crazy to reveal the final touch to your wife, otherwise you wouldn't even leave the room.

Back at the bar, a tall blonde woman, about thirty years old. She approached, she looked at Natasha and gave a smile with a false sweetness. And stared at you with a predatory look.

"You are a beautiful couple", you were already a little drunk but still conscious, that woman was flirting. "Thank you, but my wife and I would like to be alone", Natasha noticed the look and intentions of that woman.

You put your hand on the redhead's shoulder and turned to the woman "forgive my wife, she can be intense sometimes", Natasha looked at you with an arched eyebrow, she knew you were up to something. "I like intense women, and I also like to get straight to the point", you gave a drunk smile to the blonde in front of you who was spending her English and letting the strong accent show.

The blonde completely ignored Natasha, she certainly had no notion at all. She delicately ran her fingers over your face and lifted your chin, making the redhead's blood boil and her heart race with the danger.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has entered this bar during this night"

Natasha's fingers dug into your thigh and you feeling the tension in the air, decided to enjoy the moment and put into practice your "revenge", or spoiled, ridiculous attitude to get attention.

"Thank you", you replied with a velvety voice and winked delicately at the blonde, pretending not to care about your wife at your side about to throw the woman to the ground and shoot her right in the middle of her forehead.

"Your wife seems very protective, you already said she is intense, my angel", you placed one hand on Natasha's that squeezed your thigh "I'll get straight to the point, I would like to have a night with you, but analyzing the situation, I want to do a ménage with you"

"No"

"Yes"

The answers were at the same time, Natasha turned her head to you and you ignored her

"That's what I need, just thinking about you with me I already get very wet, besides, my wife is not handling just one girl, she prefers two, and leaves me unsatisfied"

Natasha's silence was deadly, she heard very well vomiting words, provoking a reaction, you were playing a dangerous game.

"Unsatisfied?", the tone of voice was cold but you ignored

"My wife has been wasting a lot of time lately with flight attendants and leaving aside the woman she really should look at, maybe we can go to our hotel room and try new things", Natasha's breathing was short, her eyes dark with anger, but you didn't shut up and she wanted to know how far you would go with this sick game

"I would love to try maybe a double penetration, I never thought about it but I am so horny right now"

Natasha didn't make a scene, she just threw a deadly look at the woman that she is sure she never felt so bad in her whole life with just a look. The blonde noticed the heavy atmosphere and that there was a conflict between you and apologized and left.

Natasha on the other hand took a deep breath and left a good amount of money on the table and took your hand. "You are nothing but a spoiled little slut desperate for attention" "Do you have any idea what you just said?" Natasha said against your lips, at that moment she already had you against the wall of the bar's outside area

"You talked about another body touching you. You talked about cheating on me and about a fantasy that you know leaves me out of control"

You smiled, running your tongue over your lips, feeling the heat of Natasha's anger and desire.

"I just told the truth, Nat. You owe me. And if you don't give me the intensity I want, I will have to look elsewhere... or maybe, you will have to prove to me that you are the only one who can fulfill all my desires. Including the dirtiest ones, if it were the flight attendant I'm sure you would do it"

"Unsatisfied?" Natasha repeated the word as if it were a personal insult "I will show you what dissatisfaction is, my dear. We are going back to that hotel now. And I will fuck you so hard and so often that you will forget how to spell the word "flight attendant""

You were anxious, anxious to provoke, anxious to test limits, anxious to get out of routine. Now already in the car the redhead remained silent, however her fingers white while driving. You looked at her and took off the seatbelt.

She said something but you didn't care. Your next step was to sit with your back to the door and stretch your legs until touching your wife's thighs. "You are very quiet, Natasha", you provoked while your legs went up her waist, the leather skirt rose enough for the angle to show the shine of your pussy already wet.

"I am thinking how I will make you regret having left the hotel room"

At that moment Natasha realized that she was not your wife, was not the mother of your daughter who stayed in New York with Yelena, was not the shy girl she met years ago. You were different, jealousy shaped you, motivated you in a surprising way, you were wild. Spoiled, crossing limits with words, practically offering yourself.

"Oh, please! You think you intimidate me? Do you know what I was thinking while that German was touching my chin? I was thinking that, maybe, I should accept. Because, honestly, Nat... I am tired"

Natasha turned her face slowly in your direction, you were crossing limits since the bar

"Tired of what?"

You leaned forward, approaching the redhead, leaving your face centimeters from hers, before saying anything you changed your facial expression to that of an oppressed wife who suffers in marriage.

"I am tired of pretending" the lie came out shamelessly, the voice tinged with a drunk cruelty "You know all those moans? Those contractions you think you cause in me? The shivers, half of them... I was just being a good wife. I have been faking my orgasms for months, just not to hurt your dominant wife ego"

The car swerved slightly to the left when Natasha reacted instinctively to the insult. She braked abruptly at a deserted red light, turning to you with a look that could melt steel

"You are lying" Natasha sentenced, the voice coming out in a lethal whisper. "I know your body better than yourself, dear. I feel your heart race, I feel your taste change, I see your skin get stained red. You cannot fake the way your legs tremble for half an hour after I finish you"

You shrugged, leaning your head back on the window

"Maybe I am just an excellent actress. Maybe I need something... new. Something that does not have this smell of routine and excessive control"

Natasha let out a dark laugh, one that made the hairs on your arm stand up, despite the provocation.

"If you were pretending, honey, you would not be so jealous of an irrelevant flight attendant. You would not be trying to hurt me with such low lies. You are desperate because you know that nobody, absolutely nobody, will possess you the way I possess. You are my dependent, and I love that"

"You are my little slut desperate for attention and you know that only I can give it, you know that only I make you cum, you know that only I can leave you so desperate and make you climb in a short time"

The car finally entered the private garage of the luxury hotel. Natasha parked aggressively, turning off the engine. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the click of the engine cooling and your breathing

You tried to open the door, but Natasha locked the exits through the central panel.

"Open this, Natasha. I want to go up and order room service. And maybe I will ask the maid to stay to keep me company"

You kept provoking, the drunkenness was giving you a suicidal courage.

Natasha got out of the car and, in seconds, opened the door on your side. She did not wait for you to get out on your own. Natasha grabbed you by the waist, pulling you out of the vehicle. And you stumbled on the high heels, falling into the redhead's arms.

She carried you to the elevator where you began to get irritated and shout "Let me go now"

"Natasha Romanoff you have no right to pull me out of that car, fuck"

She remained silent and breathing deeply, she was pulling patience from the bottom of her soul

"Let me go, this is kidnapping"

"I will scream, I will say I don't know you"

She grabbed you tighter this time and put you right in front of her

Natasha rested her forehead on yours, eyes fixed on yours

"My love" Natasha interrupted, the voice too calm, which was the maximum sign of danger. "Keep talking. Keep lying about what you feel when I touch you. Because in three minutes, when we cross the door of that suite, I will give you so much proof of the truth that you will lose your voice before being able to apologize"

You swallowed dry, the glint of challenge in your eyes faltering for a millisecond before being replaced by a burning expectation. You knew the night would be long, painful and wonderful. And that was exactly why you could not stop provoking.

The elevator arrived at the penthouse with a soft chime. The doors opened to the silent luxury of the suite, but the peace would not last long. Natasha dragged you inside, kicking the door to close, ready to tame the wife in a way that Berlin would never forget.

When the door closed, fate was sealed. It would be the most pleasurable and painful night you would have in Germany. You moved away from Natasha, walked to the center of the room while she remained leaning on the door

You looked straight into her eyes and first took off the boot. The sound of the zipper echoed through the room, soon after throwing it in any corner. You got rid of the blouse, the tip of your breast was already hardened due to the cold and the arousal.

Finally in a performative moment, you slid the short skirt down your legs. The ass up facing Natasha. When throwing it toward her. She walked like a lion that would tear apart the small victim.

However, when Natasha was less than a meter away, you took a quick step back retreating to a luxurious renaissance style chair, upholstered in crimson velvet, that was near the window. You sat there. And then, with a slowness that was pure psychological torture, opened your legs, displaying the wet and exposed pussy to your wife.

Natasha felt her mouth dry. She took another step forward, ready to take what was being offered.

But, as soon as Natasha invaded your personal space, you lifted both legs, stretching them and planting your bare feet firmly against the redhead's abdomen and thighs, pushing her away. The force was not enough to hurt Natasha, but the message was clear access denied

"No, no, no, no" you sang, the voice dragged by the drink, wagging your index finger in the air. "Who said you can come close, Romanoff? I didn't give permission. You are not deserving"

Natasha looked at your feet pushing her body, then raised her gaze to the insolent face. The Black Widow's jaw locked.

"Dear, take your feet off me before I decide that you will not need to walk for the rest of the trip" Natasha warned, the voice dangerously low and controlled.

"Or what?" You laughed, throwing your head back, the full breasts swaying slightly with the movement. "You will punish me? How cliché, Natasha. Honestly, I expected more creativity from the legendary Black Widow. Maybe you should call your blonde friend from the plane to give you some tips on how to please me. Or that woman from the bar. She seemed to know exactly what to do with a woman like me"

Natasha did not shout. She did not rant. Natasha's anger was a frozen lake silent, lethal and relentless. You thought you were in control because the drink gave you a suicidal courage. But Natasha knew exactly where the lawyer's self destruction button was. If you wanted to play with jealousy, Natasha would show you how professionals did it.

In a fluid movement, Natasha stepped back, freeing herself from your legs. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her tailored pants and pulled out her encrypted phone. The screen lit her hardened face.

"You know, you are right, moya dusha" Natasha said, the tone suddenly casual, while typing something on the device. "You are clearly bored. And since my goal is always your satisfaction, I think your idea at the bar was brilliant. Vacations are for trying new things, right?"

The mocking smile on your face faltered, just a fraction of a millimeter, but enough for Natasha to notice.

"What are you doing?" You asked, the voice failing, the expression starting to look desperate. And Natasha just stared at you with an intense look. A look of someone who had everything under control and was only playing for fun. She brought the phone to her ear and began to speak in German with a seductive and pleasant voice, the voice that made your pussy twitch.

"Guten Abend. Ja, ich bin's..." Natasha spoke on the phone, maintaining eye contact with you. "Ich habe ein kleines Problem in meiner Suite. Meine Frau ist... unbefriedigt. Wir brauchen Gesellschaft."

Your mask of a powerful woman in control fell with each expression Natasha made, a burning hatred took over your soul.

The jealousy that before was a weapon for your crises, now would be something you would never have the courage to do, but you would.

"Hang up that fucking phone, Natasha," you hissed, the legs once stretched now curling, hands grabbing the arms of the velvet chair.

Natasha smiled from the corner of her lips, a cold and victorious smile. "Ja, Zimmer 402. Wir warten auf dich."

Natasha lowered the phone, but did not lock it. She looked at you, whose breathing was now panting not from desire, but from pure fury.

"Done. Solved," Natasha said, adjusting the collar of her green shirt "I invited a woman to participate. The receptionist who assisted us at check in, remember her? Brunette, tall, blue eyes. She seemed very willing to offer an exceptional service. Since I can't handle you alone, she should arrive in five minutes."

You stood up. The alcohol pulsed in your veins, mixing with blind anger and a possessiveness so violent that it prevented you from thinking clearly. You did not step back. You did not cry. The drink did not let you be submissive at that moment; the drink made you a cornered animal.

Your eyes carried a pure insanity, you were out of yourself at that moment. The left hand grabbed the tip of your right breast. Squeezed hard but you didn't even care, now you would show your beloved wife what really was crossing limits

"You think you are in control of the situation, Natasha", now your right hand was going down slowly through the abdomen and reaching the pussy wet with arousal. "You think I will be shaken because of a slut that enters through that door?"

Natasha felt all the muscles of her body tense to the maximum. The vision of you touching yourself in that vulgar and aggressive way to challenge her was destroying her last barriers of sanity.

You circled your clitoris with the thumb and then with the index and middle finger, you ran over the pussy slit. After wetting the fingers you took both to your mouth and sucked

"I am waiting for your guest to arrive, Natasha," you said, the breathing becoming irregular, the flush of alcohol and anger marking your chest and neck. "But I will give you a warning. If the handle of that door turns... if a woman crosses that threshold... I leave here."

You stopped touching yourself, slapping the wet hand on your own thigh, leaving the shiny trail of your excitement exposed.

"I will leave this room exactly as I am", you looked with hatred at Natasha "I will leave this room naked for everyone to see who is the wife of the black widow"

"But that's not all, I will corner the first man I see in that corridor and beg with all my sweet words for him to fuck me so hard that I will forget even the name of my dear wife"

That was a shock for the redhead, never in life she would think that something like that would come out of your mouth. It was not the woman she met years ago, it was not at all.

Natasha was playing this game with surprising calm, but you played very low, you hit her weak point. She was a possessive woman, nobody touched what was hers, and you were the priority of her life

She still held the phone, and at that moment nothing else mattered, you sealed the end of the game. You signed your own death. Natasha threw the phone against the wall and it shattered. You let out a laugh and a satanic smile.

"Repeat"

She approached you with everything

"Repeat, fuck"

"You are not deaf, dear"

Natasha lost control. With the right hand she grabbed your hair and pulled with a violence that gave you arousal. With the left hand she squeezed your chin and brought your face close to hers.

Instead of you stepping back or giving any sign of discomfort, you gave another smile to her and with your teeth, bit her lower lip, making her let out a moan.

"You heard very well, I said that I would beg a man to..."

You did not finish speaking when both bodies fell to the floor. Your back hit the carpet, you only let out a low groan of pain but she didn't even care.

"Shut that fucking mouth"

But you did not shut up, you didn't even care about the order and didn't think before speaking. You would say the most cruel, disrespectful and disgusting thing that any wife could say

"My pussy is soaked" you whispered, the voice dragged and mocking, rubbing the hips against Natasha's leg. "And maybe it is not for you"

Natasha's patience, the last drop of rational humanity that still remained there, disintegrated.

Natasha with great force shoved two fingers into your pussy without mercy. A scream of pain and pleasure came out of your soul. A huge electric shock took over your body, she thrust hard, was mistreating the pussy

"Tell me, fuck"

"Tell me for who this pussy is wet, tell me who is the only person who can touch it, you desperate slut"

Natasha continued with force, the other hand grabbed the waist, with a grip that would leave marks, and when she gave that squeeze your pussy contracted strongly around her fingers.

The redhead gave a mocking little laugh, she hovered over you and with violence she grabbed your breast with her teeth, Natasha bit hard before sucking.

A scream of pain came out of you and tears began to fall, you got what you wanted. You took Natasha to the limit.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me, fuck"

"Only I eat you like this" she said with a convinced smile, but you would not let it go

"Could be...", you screamed among the moans "Could be better, could be more pleasurable"

"Fuck me straight, Natasha"

Natasha growled. An animalistic sound vibrating in the ex assassin's chest.

"More pleasurable?" Natasha spat the word, the hand going to your nape and pulling your hair hard, forcing you to look at the ceiling.

Natasha changed the angle, making each thrust even deeper, hitting in an almost primitive way.

There was no affection, there was no softness. The fingers were more violent and the screams increased with each thrust. Tears of pleasure began to fall from your eyes and decorating your face that was a mess

"You want more? I give you more, you spoiled brat!" Natasha exclaimed, heavy breathing, sweat beginning to appear on her forehead.

She left your breast to go down with her teeth along your neck, sucking and tearing your sensitive skin, leaving purple and red marks that would take weeks to disappear.

You completely lost control of your own body. The alcohol, the pain, the overwhelming pleasure and the weight of Natasha's domination created a short circuit in your brain. Your provocations finally failed when you were swallowed by an orgasm so violent that your muscles locked.

You could no longer form ironic or cruel words. Only screams. You screamed Natasha's name repeatedly, nails now grabbing the fabric of your wife's pants, silently begging for her not to stop, although your body was on the verge of collapse.

Your pussy contracted violently around Natasha's fingers, sucking each movement, completely betraying your lie from minutes ago. Your body acclaimed for Natasha, cried for her, demanded the brutality that only the redhead knew how to give you.

While you went into convulsions of pleasure on the cold floor, sobbing and drooling, Natasha continued. She would not stop. You wanted to play at forgetting the word limits, and Natasha was willing to spend the whole night erasing any trace of resistance, jealousy or audacity from your drunk body.

She did not care about your sensitivity at the moment, you made it clear how you wanted to be fucked and she would do it.

When your body became limp, you were weak, you thought she would hug you and you already had an apology ready. But the reality was that she carried you grabbing your waist and your hair and laid you on the bed and disappeared right after.

Your body felt relief as soon as it touched the expensive mattress. The relief pain of pleasure in your back mixed with the irregular breathing and the pussy still contracting now in nothing.

You thought it was over, but it was just beginning.

Natasha moved away from you and the only sound echoing through the room was the suitcase opening.

Your heart raced. The liquid courage you had drunk at the bar was evaporating, leaving only the terrifying anticipation of what was to come.

When Natasha returned to your field of vision, the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. The Black Widow still wore the green silk shirt, now wrinkled and with the first buttons open, revealing the pale skin and sweat at the base of the neck. But it was what she carried in her hands and what she wore underneath that made your breathing stop completely.

Natasha had already put on the black leather harness, firmly adjusted to her sculpted hips, holding a dark, thick and intimidating artificial member, that pointed with an implacable rigidity in your direction. In one of her hands, she held a bottle of expensive lubricant; in the other, a black, thick vibrator, of ribbed texture and frightening size.

"N Nat..." you stammered, eyes wide, the arrogance completely erased from your voice.

"You said you were unsatisfied, didn't you?" Natasha's voice was a velvet torn by blades. Cold, clinical and absolutely merciless. She walked to the edge of the bed. "You said you needed more. That I could not handle alone."

"I was... I was just provoking, you know..." You tried to retreat on the mattress, but there was nowhere to go.

"I do not care what you were doing. I care about what you asked. And you, my dear and insolent wife, asked for an intensity that you do not have capacity to endure."

With a quick and brutal movement, Natasha grabbed your ankles and pulled you back to the edge of the bed. Before you could protest, her strong hands grabbed your hips and forced you to turn face down.

"On all fours. Now" Natasha ordered. The tone admitted no hesitation.

Trembling, you obeyed. You rested your knees on the mattress and elbows on the sheets, lifting the ass, leaving all your reddened and soaked intimacy completely exposed to Natasha's predatory view. The posture was the personification of vulnerability.

Natasha poured an obscene amount of lubricant on the thick vibrator. The cold liquid ran down the silicone. Without warning, without preparatory caresses, Natasha pressed the cold and wide tip against the entrance of your pussy and, with a firm and continuous push, buried the object deeply inside you.

You screamed. Not from pain, as your body was incredibly lubricated and dilated by the recent orgasm, but from the sensation of absolute and suffocating fullness. The toy was too big, filling every millimeter of your needy pussy, stretching the internal walls in a way that made you arch your back violently

"Stay still" Natasha growled. With her thumb, she reached the base of the toy and pressed the button to maximum power.

A deep hum filled the room. The violent vibration exploded inside you. Your legs gave out instantly, your elbows buckled, but Natasha did not let you fall. The redhead shoved her right hand under your abdomen, pulling your waist up, forcing you to maintain the position on all fours while the machine vibrated mercilessly in your core.

"Try to take it, brat. Didn't you want to try new things?" Natasha whispered, her voice loaded with cruel sarcasm.

You bit the pillow, trying to muffle the sound that wanted to tear out of your throat. You were being destroyed from the inside. The intense vibration was overwhelming your nerves. But the tactile punishment did not stop there. Natasha raised her left hand and, with fingers open, delivered a sharp and violent slap to your right buttock.

SMACK!

The sound was like a gunshot in the presidential suite. Your pale skin was marked with a vivid red in the shape of fingers almost immediately. You let out a muffled cry into the pillow, your eyes filling with tears.

"That's for your little jealousy show on the plane" Natasha said coldly.

SMACK!

Another slap, this time on the left buttock, with doubled force. You whimpered, your hips trying to escape the blow, but Natasha's hand on your stomach kept you pinned like an anchor.

"That's for your show at the bar" Natasha continued, her voice rising a tone, Russian anger leaking through the syllables.

SMACK!

A third strike, right in the center, making the soft flesh tremble and burn.

"And that's for having the audacity to tell me you would spread your legs for the first idiot who showed up in the hallway!"

With each slap, humiliation and pain fused with the violent vibration inside you. You were in pieces. Your drunken mind could not process the overwhelming mix of sensations. You tried not to moan, tried to maintain what little dignity your stubbornness demanded, but it was useless. The pain from the slaps made the blood rush to the area, increasing sensitivity, while the vibrator ground your internal nerves until turning them to dust.

"Y-you... you're hurting me..." you let out against the sheet, your voice broken.

"I am teaching you. There is a big difference" Natasha shot back.

The redhead released your abdomen, allowing you to support yourself again. Natasha leaned over your bare back. The anger was beginning to give way to an obsessive need for possession. She wanted you to feel every cell of your body being claimed.

Natasha lowered her face and opened her mouth over your spine, right between your shoulder blades. She sank her teeth into your sweaty skin. You gasped loudly, your back arching like a bow. Before the pain settled, Natasha replaced the bite with a slow and wet lick, her hot tongue running down the entire length of your spine, feeling you tremble violently under her touch.

The combination of sharp pain in your ass, the insane vibration in your pussy and the hot bites on your back created a cocktail of arousal so powerful that you lost any control over yourself. You did not try to hold back anymore. You started to moan. Loud, long and desperate moans of someone being possessed to the soul.

"That's it..." Natasha murmured against your skin, her strong hands now caressing your trembling thighs and squeezing your red buttocks. "Move your hips for me. Show how needy you are."

You obeyed. Like an animal driven by pleasure and pain, you began to move your hips, your pelvis moving in an erratic and pornographic way on the bed, rubbing the vibrator internally. The drunkenness left you without filters, without shame. You cried, tears soaking your entire face, while arousal darkened your vision.

Little by little, Natasha's brutality began to transform into something different. The storm had not passed, but the wind now blew in another direction. The twisted and predatory delicacy that only Natasha possessed began to emerge. While you moved blindly, Natasha brought her right hand to the erect silicone member she wore. She caressed it slowly, covering it with the remaining lubricant. The sight of the spy, with her silk shirt open, face flushed and eyes shining in pure dominance while preparing the tool that would destroy your last defenses, was terrifying and beautiful.

With her left hand, Natasha slid her fingers between your legs. She traced the base of the thick vibrator that occupied the entrance of your pussy and found your swollen and throbbing clitoris.

As soon as Natasha's thumb began to strike there, in a fast and relentless rhythm, you let out a sharp sound.

"Nat! My God, Nat!" you begged, your hips throwing themselves back against the redhead's hand.

"Didn't you want to fulfill a fetish?" Natasha whispered, her voice now a demonic purr in your ear. "Wasn't it you who said you were curious about a double penetration?"

Your heart stopped for a second before beating again in a frantic rhythm. The panic that Natasha would actually do that filled you, but it was immediately obliterated by an obscene and depraved arousal that made you salivate.

"P-please... I don't..." you tried to articulate, but Natasha gave you no choice.

Natasha aligned her hips. The cold and lubricated tip of the artificial member touched your smaller and tight entrance of the anus. You shivered from head to toe.

"Relax, moya dusha. Trust me. You won't need anyone else after tonight. I will be the first, the last and the only one to open you this way."

Slowly, with an excruciating patience that contrasted with the fury from minutes before, Natasha began to push. The invasion was millimetric. Your body tensed like a violin string, the sensation of invasion in a forbidden place mixing with the absurd volume that was already inside your pussy.

"Breathe" Natasha ordered, stopping the movement to let your body get used to it. She massaged your red ass with her warm hands, soothing the muscles. "That's it. Let the air out. Let everything go for me."

Little by little, yielding to the commanding voice of the woman you loved, you relaxed. And when you did, Natasha sank the member to the base in a single fluid motion.

The scream that came out of you was not human. It was a broken sound, torn from the depths of your chest. The sensation of being completely, absurdly full, invaded from two sides, stretched beyond any limit you knew, was a collapse in your system. The vibrator buzzed in your pussy, hitting the G spot nonstop, while the thick strap hit deep in your anus, creating an internal friction that drove you completely insane.

Natasha began to move. Slowly at first, pulling and pushing the member, making sure each thrust made the dick rub against the dividing wall, pressing the vibrator that was in the vagina.

"How is it?" Natasha provoked, her hands holding your thin waist firmly, setting the rhythm. "Is this what you wanted? Is this how your German from the bar would do it? Answer!"

"No! No!" You sobbed, your hips now moving desperately on your wife's cock, seeking to sink deeper into that pleasurable and maddening pain. "It's only you! Only you, Nat! Please!"

"I'm tired of faking orgasms, wasn't that what you said in the car?" Natasha thrust deeper, increasing the speed. The sound of bodies colliding and flesh slapping filled the room.

"I lied! I lied, fuck!" You screamed, tears flowing freely, your head thrown back, hair tangled. "I love you! Fuck me, Nat! Harder! Faster, please!"

You were reduced to primal instincts. The brilliant lawyer, the caring mother, the insolent wife everything had burned in the flames of lust and pain. You were feeling an arousal so monstrous you thought you would die.

You arched your hurt ass, throwing yourself against Natasha's violent thrusts, the vibrator almost slipping out of your pussy with each impact before being pushed back by the collision of bodies.

Natasha complied. She lost control. The ex spy grabbed your hair, pulling you back so your bodies were skin to skin, your sweaty back against the redhead's chest.

The rhythm became frantic, insane. One stab after another, marking, subjugating, emptying your mind of any coherent thought.

The flood of dopamine hit your drunken brain. The orgasm that swallowed you was unlike anything you had ever felt in your life. It was not a wave, it was an explosion. A white blackout.

You froze in the middle of a thrust. Your eyes rolled back for real this time, your arms completely gave out, and you collapsed face down on the mattress. The scream you let out was so long and high pitched that it tore your throat, turning into a hoarse hiss at the end. Your internal walls contracted with terrifying violence, squeezing Natasha's member and the vibrator in spasms that seemed infinite.

Natasha stopped moving, panting, sweat dripping from her face onto your back. She stayed there for long minutes, holding your trembling and convulsing body, feeling the absolute power of having taken you far beyond the stars and the abyss.

When the tremors finally began to subside, the room plunged into a dense silence, broken only by the desperate breathing of both of you and the low hum of the vibrator still turned on. The adrenaline dropped abruptly. The alcohol, the pain, the emotional terror and the stratospheric pleasure took their toll. You were almost unconscious. Your body was heavy, limp, without a drop of resistance.

Natasha slid out of you slowly, the suction sound breaking the silence. She got rid of the harness quickly and threw it away. She did not turn off or remove the vibrator from your pussy, the psychological punishment for the insolence of the night demanded that you sleep feeling completely "filled", remembering who had put it there.

With a tenderness that contrasted absurdly with the brutality of the last forty minutes, Natasha turned your limp body onto your back. You looked like a broken doll. Your face was red, wet with tears. Your chest rose and fell in deep exhaustion.

Natasha pulled the heavy hotel duvets, covering your hurt, sweaty and marked body, keeping you warm against the cold of the air conditioning.

Natasha lay down beside you. She pulled you into her arms. You had no strength to move, but your submissive and dependent instinct took control of your almost unconscious body.

With half closed eyes and your mind drifting on the edge of fainting, you dragged your face to Natasha's chest. The redhead still had her silk shirt open. Smelling the warm skin, you opened your mouth and, like a reflex of someone seeking absolute safe harbor after the storm, took one of your wife's full breasts through the thin fabric that remained, sucking it slowly, the need for physical comfort overriding any shame.

Natasha's fingers threaded into your black and sweaty hair, stroking your scalp rhythmically, while her other hand caressed your marked back, being careful not to touch your reddened ass with force.

The deep hum of the vibrator still vibrated inside you, keeping you in a constant state of semi arousal, but the exhaustion was so great that you could no longer react with pain or pleasure. It was so bittersweet.

"You are safe now, my life" Natasha whispered in the dim light of the room, her voice now sweet and protective, the dominant demon giving way to the devoted matriarch. "No one will ever hurt you out there. Only I can break you. And only I know how to fix you."

You sucked Natasha's breast once more, a drunken and drawn out murmur escaping your swollen lips. Your spoiled vocabulary had disappeared, the sharp phrases erased. You were reduced to your purest and most submissive essence.

"Sorry..." you mumbled against Natasha's skin, your eyelids weighing a ton. Your mind faded in and out, merging the image of your strong, protective and omnipotent wife with the comfort you desperately needed. The alcohol and the trauma of pleasure made you regress completely. You snuggled deeper into the redhead's neck. "Mommy..."

Natasha smiled, a genuine smile of victory and deep love, kissing the top of your head. The beast had been tamed, the brat had been broken and rebuilt.

"Sleep, my love" Natasha answered softly, rocking your body in the darkness of the Hotel de Rome. "Mommy is here."

And while the Berlin night advanced outside the window, chaos gave way to an exhausted silence. You passed out, curled up in the arms of the Black Widow, with a toy still inside you, however turned off in your interior and the absolute and unshakable certainty that you had found a love as possessive, dangerous and sick as you yourself needed to survive. And the Berlin audit had definitely been closed with a perfectly balanced result.