✶

you and natasha romanoff are not friends.

a cheerleader like her and a loser like you don't exist in the same orbit. you exist on opposite ends of the food chain, separated by bleachers and academics. you have no reason to interact unless the cheerleader is asking the loser for the homework answers or when the cheerleader is busy tossing paper balls at the back of the losers head. in college, that means you and natasha should never have to interact at all. different majors, different friends, different lives.

to put it simply, the two of you don't get along.

so why on earth had your professor decided to pair you up with her for this chemistry project, and why had natasha accept the decision so easily?

you'd stared at the email from your professor for at least ten minutes as if waiting for a glitch to occur and assign you someone else instead. anyone else— a friend, a stranger, or even by yourself wouldve been better— but no, natasha's name sits next to your on that email like a stain you wish you could rub off.

even now, a day later after that email, that same coil of dread and annoyance curls low in your stomach as you stand in the chemistry lab alone, natasha sitting on the opposite side of the bench like a fly on the wall.

the room is quiet in the same way all academic buildings get after dark— too still, the fluorescent lights humming overhead, the windows reflecting the inside rather than the outside. you're hunched over the bench, gloved hands steady as you measure reagents, eyes flicking between your notes and the beaker in front of you.

and across the bench and sitting on a stool, natasha isn't helping. she's leaning forwards on the bench with her arms crossed loosely in the lab coat you'd forced her to put on, eyes peering down at your working hands like she's watching some kind of foreign concept occur right in front of her eyes.

its unsettling how quiet she is. you'd expected complaints or sarcasm, maybe a few insults if she was feeling up to it, but instead, she just watches. you can feel her gaze on you like heat on the back of your neck. every time you reach for a pipette or lean over to write something down, her eyes follow every small movement you make.

you blink before huffing out a small sigh. the stirring rod clinks against the rim of the beaker as you drop it, reaching up to push your goggles further up your nose.

"did you wanna do something?" you ask, your tone a little mean. your hands are planted onto the bench, eyes heavy under the harsh LED lights.

natasha sucks her teeth like she's thinking, but you already know her answer before she's even opened her mouth. "no, not really."

you look at her with a flat look. "you can't just sit there and watch me do all of the work, natasha. if we're going to be lab partners, then we're going to be lab partners."

she doesn't look offended by your words at all. if anything, she looks a little amused at your annoyance.

"i'm here for moral support." she says easily, and then she adds— as if it'll get her in your good books— "i actually skipped out on a party to be here."

you barely roll your eyes as you go back to your work, "i'm really glad you did that."

your words drop of sarcasm, and natasha picks it up almost instantly. you reach over the bench for the beaker full of what should be ethanol but you find that it's unlabelled. you pour it in anyways, because your professor had laid them out for you earlier, and you never knew your professor to be wrong.

"relax, princess." natasha says in response to your sarcasm, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. "i'm impressed."

you glance up at her, "impressed by what?"

if it was possible, she leans even closer, so close that you can practically feel her breathing down your neck. "the fact that you actually know what you're doing. i took this class for extra credit and i dont understand a single lick of it."

"it helps that i'm a chemistry major." you say flatly.

"you're such a nerd." natasha says, but the way it rolls off of her tongue sounds more like an observation than an insult.

you blink. "thanks."

"y'know," she says after a long while, her voice splitting through the silence and the clinking of the glass equipment, "you don't always have to look so tense all the time. don't you enjoy this type of stuff?"

you dont look at her. "i do. it's hard not to look tense when i'm doing all of the work."

but you pause when you notice that the mix of chemicals in the beaker isn't reaction how it's meant to. it bubbles awkwardly and thick, the solution shifting almost imperceptibly in colour, and you know something is wrong.

natasha notices the change of expression on your face and mistakes your confusion for anger towards her. she straightens, confidence flaring like a defence mechanism. "fine, i'll help—"

she leans over the desk, reaching for a beaker like she knows what she's doing, but her sleeves clips the edge instead.

"no, natasha, don't—"

the beaker tips over, the mysterious liquid spilling all over the bench in a thick glossy layer. there's a pop and a curl of smoke rises into the air, a thin mist catching in the fluorescent lights. the smell hits instantly— sweet and tangy and wrong.

the two of you jump back on instinct as droplets fly towards you, speckling the sleeves of your coat and the front of natasha's uniform. the two of you shrug off your coats, natasha using hers as a rag to scrape off the liquid.

"shit," she mutters as she looks down at her uniform, "coach is gonna kill me."

you look down at the mess, afraid that the mist will set off the fire alarms. you look around and find no paper towels to wipe up the mess. "you're worried about your uniform? professor's gonna eat me alive for fucking up the experiment."

natasha looks up at you with narrowed eyes, "we can both have our own problems, okay? its not a competition."

you roll your eyes as you drop your coat onto the spill, hoping that the fabric will soak up the liquid. it clings stubbornly, warm through the material, and the scent grows the closer you get.

the air feels thick. heavy. the smell curls around you, sweet and unfamiliar, and for a moment, you think natasha might've sprayed a little too much perfume this morning. you look up at her and sniff, finding that this scent is nothing like the scent of ethanol that you should be smelling.

then natasha frowns, her brows knitted. "god, how strong is your perfume?"

you freeze. if you're smelling natasha's perfume, and she's smelling yours, then something had gone exponentially wrong.

"something went wrong." you murmur, shaking your head like it'll rid you of natasha's scent. "something went wrong. i think this might've— i might've accidentally created some kind of aphrodisiac or something. but i don't—"

"like a love potion?" she interruots, her voice a mix of confusion and surprise. she's a little breathless as she presses a hand to her stomach. "i feel a little tingly. is that normal?"

"i don't know, but it's not a love potion, natasha. this isn't a magic class." you say flatly. "it only amplifies feelings that are already there. so if you're feeling love, then that means—"

a rush of heat in your lower stomach interrupts you. you feel a little lightheaded, you mind slipping just slightly. your throat feels a little tighter, and every muscle in your body feels like it needs something to satiate it. and as natasha's eyes meet yours, bright and wide, you can't help but notice that your pulse is ringing in your ears.

there's only one thought that sits in your mind, loud and impossible to suppress: natasha has never looked so beautiful.

you swallow hard, pushing the thought down as you toss your coat onto the bench and turn away, desperately willing yourself to calm down. "i think we should sit on opposite sides of the room."

natasha frowns, "what are you talking about—"

"now."

and that's how the two of you end up sitting on opposite sides of the lab for the next hour, sitting as far from each other as the room allows, attempting to ignore the lingering scent of each other in the air. the clock ticks agonisingly slow above the door, each second dragging on longer than the last, but neither of you dare to even acknowledge the other. you'd even opened all of the windows and shut off the lights in effort to help, but to no avail.

you know you messed up with the formula. you'd created some kind of aphrodisiac— or as natasha put it, a love potion— and now everything in your body feels like it's on fire. it spilled into the air. into you. into her. and you're not sure how to get rid of it.

natasha sits on the floor across the room. her muscles are simultaneously tight and loose, her hand flapping in the air as a poor attempt of fanning herself.

you dont look at her. you cant look at her. if you did, you're not sure what you'll end up doing. every small movement she makes— the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the way she huffs out a tense breath through her parted lips, the way her legs spread further and further apart— feels amplified and impossible to look away from.

you dont dare mention how the pressure in your clit has been building up during the hour of silence, or how you've been pressing your thighs together to try and ease the pain, but it doesn't work.

it's torture.

"... so." natasha say eventually, voice echoing through the too quiet lab.

you flinch, her voice an unwelcome sound. it only makes you weigh in your spot, and you're sure you've made a mess of your panties.

"so what?" you reply, head tilted away from her like it'll help the throbbing in between your legs. "i dont know what you want me to say, natasha."

natasha glares at you like you've just told her to get lost. her jaw ticks, and for a moment, she really does consider leaving; but she doesn't, because she knows you're feeling what she's feeling.

"okay, we can't ignore the fact that you've basically just drugged us, and i know for a fact that i'm not the only one about to fuck my fingers right now."

the flatness of her tone is what catches you off guard. both the accusation and the confession stick to the forefront of your mind, but the image of natasha pumping herself full of her fingers burns itself into the space behind your eyelids.

you grimace. "what are you—"

natasha rolls her eyes, a bored smile playing on her lips. "you made viagra in liquid form, sweetheart, and i dont think it's going away until we do something about it. we should just... get it over and done with— together."

"what are you saying?" you ask, but you know that you both already know what she means.

she huffs out an irritated sigh. "i'm saying come here before i start humping my hand."

you hesitate for a while. even though you'd love nothing more than to get off right now, this is still natasha romanoff that's offering you a release. a cheerleader, a hierarchy leader, someone who should not want and does not want anything to do with you; but then you think back to the mysterious liquid, and you can't think of any other explanation for her smelling you other than he wanting you just as much as you want her.

so you push yourself up, your fingers curling into the ground as you will yourself to cross the room. your body feels hot even in the cold air, and your knees buckle with every pathetic step you take towards her.

it should feel like you're wading through something thick and invisible, but the pull you feel from natasha is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's almost addicting, her scent pulling you closer and closer until you're kneeling down beside her.

before long, natasha's on her knees as well. her eyes are glassy and her hair is a little frazzled, but all you can really focus on are her lips— all red and bitten like they'd been caught between her teeth for a while.

you almost pant when she scoots closer, her knees pressing into yours like distance won't help anymore. "natasha—"

"call me nat." she says, low and certain, her eyes set on your mouth. her head tilts the slightest bit like she's taking watching ever movement you make. "have you had your first kiss yet?"

the question catches you off guard. "yes. yeah, i— i have."

something flashes across her face. "good."

you barely have any time to process her words before she closes the distance.

her mouth is on yours, nothing gentle or patient about it. she kisses you like this is a stepping stone to get what she wants, and you give into her. the force of her kiss is enough to push you down, your back flat against the ground. nat wastes no time in straddling you, her thighs locking around your waist and her hands settling on your neck.

her kisses are anything but clean, too rushed and too hungry. her tongue laps over yours with reckless confidence and her lipgloss smears all over your mouth and chin like she's afraid she'll lose her nerve if she slows down. you gasp softly into her, your hands curling into the fabric of her uniform around her waist.

then nat pulls away. she stands up, and you hold yourself up as you watch her reach under her skirt and slide down her panties, the white cotton landing to the ground beside you. you glance over and find yourself breathless at the sight— her panties are soaked through completely.

she straddles you again, her hands slipping into the waistband of your skirt and tugging it down until she's able to slip it off of you entirely. you feel a little exposed now at the fact that she's staring at your panties, no doubt drenched in your arousal. but then she tugs down your underwear, and the sight makes her smirk.

"god, you're soaked." she laughs, the drawl in her voice making you feel small under her gaze.

"you are too." you try to bite back, but heat that crawls up your neck makes it hard for you to sound anything other than pathetic. "the liquid amplifies feelings. if you're feeling like this, then that means you felt the same way."

she scoffs like you've stated the obvious. "yeah, you're a fucking loser. who wouldn't want to fuck you?"

her lips are back on yours before you can retaliate, her tongue sliding against your bottom lip, less out of need and more out of dominance, like she knows how exactly to shut you up. her knee is slotted between your legs, shifting higher and higher until her skin comes in contact with the wet mess in between your thighs.

a pathetic moan falls from your mouth, and natasha swallows it with ease. her knee presses against you, and you shamelessly grind down on her trying to find friction. but just as you'd started feeling anything, she moves her knee. you furrow your brows as she nips as your lip, pulling away with a huff.

she pats the side of your thigh, "lift your leg, princess."

and you do. you let her guide you, her body sliding into position until your cunts are flush together. the noise that comes from it is almost embarrassing, your arousal evident.

you look down, "is this really the easiest way to—"

"just shut up and take it." she says.

nat moves just to test the waters, and the feeling that shoots through you rips a moan from both of your throats. nat grins, her eyes glassy as she stares down at you.

then she starts rocking back and forth, and the sound the echoes through the room is wet and shameless. your cunts rub together, your leg in nat's arms as she shifts, finding an angle that

"fuck—" she moans, "look at you. who would've thought a loser like you would get this wet for cheerleader pussy."

you bite down on your hand to suppress the noises that spill from your mouth, but nat reaches down and pulls your hand away you you, guiding it to her hips instead.

"get your hand out of your mouth, sweetheart. i wanna hear how good i fuck you."

you palm at her ass, fingers digging into her skirt as you pull her back and forth, her full weight pressing down on you as she grinds her leaking pussy onto yours. your legs almost go numb with how hard she's rutting into you, your hamstring burning.

nat presses an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your calf, her jaw slack as she fucks herself against you. the sounds that fall from her mouth are low and sparing, but what you do manage to catch is sent straight to your clit.

that ball of heat in your stomach is so close to snapping, and almost like she can sense it, nat speeds up, her arms tightening around your leg as she humps the living daylights out of you.

"are you close?" she cocks her head, amused at how much you're dragging her along your own cunt. "you want it faster?"

"please—" you nod as best you can, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth, and that's exactly what nat gives you.

with a few final grinds of her hips, you can feel nat come undone, her jaw slack as she looks down at where you're connected.

the sound is almost pornographic now— hell, it's beyond pornographic— the squelching of your cunts echoing throughout the lab and your mewls and nat's moan mixing into a chorus that neither of you will forget for god knows who long.

you cum soon after as nat rides out her orgasm, lips pressed to the skin of your leg like it's an anchor. the only sound in the room is breathing and shaky pants as the two of you catch your breaths.

nat pulls away first, her breath uneven and her hands briefly lingering at your waist before she straightens. she stands up, a thin line of your combined slick connected the two of you before it snaps. she leans down and grabs her underwear, stepping through it and pulling it back up with a dramatic snap of the waist band.

she glances down at you, still where she left you in the floor, as she smooths down her uniform. she wipes at her mouth with her thumb, fixing her lipgloss back into place, and then weakly smiles at you.

"you feeling better?" she asks.

"mm-hm." you nod, feeling less horny than you did only moments before and a little fucked out of your mind.

she nod like that makes sense, like she feels it too. then she steps back, her thumb pointed towards the door.

"then i'm gonna head out... see if the party's still going. you have fun in here, okay?" she says casually on her way out. then she turns and salutes you, "get us those marks, nerd."

the door clicks shut behind her, and then she's gone.

you lay there for a moment staring at the door, but thinking of nothing in particular. the air still smells faintly sweet, and you're drenched in slick and sweat. your brain feels like it still hasn't fully caught up to your body, and now you've just been left on the floor to clean up after yourself.

you dont know what happened or what this means for you and natasha, but you know for a fact that whatever line had existed between the two of you before tonight is gone.

you also just hope your professor doesn't have cameras installed in the lab. that'd be awkward.

i apologise for the rushed smut, i just was over it