"Should I get you a mop?" Natasha asks in a serious tone, though the corner of her mouth twitches in a barely-there smirk.
"Fuck off," you mutter, quickly shifting your gaze to the pad in your hand.
You're waiting for the returning team to do a quick check on things they require most promptly. Natasha is waiting to make sure her family is in one piece, though officially she claims it's to have someone pay for her take out dinner.
"I'd ask if it's your drool, or your pussy weeping for him-" Romanoff continues in a conversational tone- "but I think it's both."
"I have no idea what you imply." You lift your head high, mustering all your pride and fake indifference.
So maybe the Black Widow noticed you staring at Captain Rogers. She's the best spy, after all. As long as nobody else is aware of it, you were fine.
She can't blame you, either. Not when Steve looks... like he looks. Not when he is the man that he is. Honestly, you'd be ready to drop to your knees to thank him for the care and heart he shows people every day.
Then let him ruin you however he wishes, because he looked like sin worthy of eternal damnation.
And when he wears the tactical suit... well, you can't help how your whole body reacts.
"That you're obviously turned on like Tony for a new robot."
Natasha shrugs and starts walking toward the team. After two steps she glances at you over her shoulder and adds:
"And that Steve has enhanced senses..."
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