Natasha Romanoff

she/her 23

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Flirting with fire

Rio Vidal x Reader

Seat of desire

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A dangerous game

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Drunk on love

Ties that bind | Part 1

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Before you could react, you were shoved against the wall, the impact stealing your breath. Natasha’s hand wrapped around your throat, firm but not yet cruel, her grip a silent warning. Her eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into yours with something that sent a slow, burning chill down your spine.

"Are we… are we flirting or fighting?" you whispered, your voice barely steady, betraying the rapid pulse beneath Natasha’s fingers.

A slow smirk curled at her lips, though there was no kindness in it—only amusement, laced with something far more dangerous. She tilted her head, her thumb dragging lazily over your throat, feeling the quickened beat of your heart.

"I’ve got you against the wall, my hand on your neck…" she murmured, voice low, deliberate, every syllable a quiet threat. She leaned in, her breath ghosting against your skin. "What do you think?"

You swallowed, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in your chest, the heat curling low in your stomach. The air between you was thick, suffocating, intoxicating.

"I’m… not sure," you admitted, your voice a breath of uncertainty.

Natasha’s smirk deepened, fingers flexing ever so slightly. "Then maybe you should pay closer attention."

[natasha-romanoff-off]

A dangerous game

At Tony Stark’s party, tensions rise as unspoken feelings linger in the air. Between stolen glances, quiet frustrations, and a risky plan, the night takes an unexpected turn. What starts as a simple game quickly becomes something far more dangerous.

Tony Stark always threw the most extravagant parties, and tonight was no exception. The mansion was filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses as guests mingled. You sat at the bar, absentmindedly swirling your drink, when a familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"What are you doing here all alone?" Kate asked as she slid onto the stool beside you, her tone laced with curiosity.

"Nat had to talk about work," you replied, tilting your head toward the other side of the room.

Kate followed your gaze and spotted Natasha deep in conversation with Maria. A knowing smirk played on her lips.

"Looks like that bothers you."

You sighed, tightening your grip on your glass. "We’ve been here for three hours, and that’s all she’s done. She hasn’t even spent five minutes with me."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "So why don’t you just go to her?"

"I don’t want to bother her," you admitted, taking another sip of your drink.

"And ‘pockets’?" you asked, referring to Yelena.

"In the bathroom," Kate answered with a shrug.

You nodded to yourself, frustration still settling in your chest. "I just wish she’d pay me a little attention…"

Kate tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Then why don’t you make her jealous?"

Lowering your glass, you considered her words. "Not a bad idea…"

She let out a small chuckle. "I was joking."

"I wasn’t," you said, turning to her with a smirk. "Will you help me?"

Kate sighed dramatically. "Do you want me to die?"

You laughed, but before you could say anything, you felt a heavy gaze on you. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted Natasha watching from across the room, her expression unreadable.

Kate leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "See that redhead over there?"

Your brows furrowed as you turned to look. Another woman stood a few feet away, watching you with quiet interest.

"She’s been staring at you since you walked in. Want me to introduce you?"

"I don’t think—" you started, hesitating.

"Oh, now you’re backing out?" Kate teased, nudging your arm.

You sighed before rolling your eyes. "Fine."

Pleased, Kate waved her over. The woman approached with confident strides, her presence immediately commanding attention.

"Wanda, this is Y/N," Kate said, gesturing between you two.

"Nice to meet you," you said politely.

"The pleasure is mine," Wanda replied with a smirk. She reached for your hand and pressed a light kiss to your knuckles.

Heat crept up your neck, but before you could react, you felt Natasha’s gaze burning into your back.

Kate stood up abruptly. "Well, I’m off. My blonde just got back."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Don’t leave me al—"

"See you later," Kate interrupted with a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

Wanda stepped closer, her voice amused. "Am I such bad company?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. "No, it’s just… I don’t know you."

She shrugged, unconcerned. "We can fix that."

You glanced toward Natasha, who hadn’t moved an inch, her eyes locked on you.

"You seem nice, but I have a girlfriend," you admitted.

Wanda smirked. "At least let me buy you a drink."

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

As Wanda signaled the bartender, you took a breath before speaking again. "I know we just met, but… can I ask you for a favor?"

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "You just told me you have a girlfriend."

"It’s not like that," you clarified quickly. "It’s just… Kate suggested making her jealous, and I was wondering if you’d help."

A slow grin spread across Wanda’s face. "That sounds fun. Who are we messing with?"

You nodded toward Natasha. "The redhead over there."

Wanda let out a low whistle. "Natasha?"

Your brows lifted in surprise. "You know her?"

"We’ve known each other for years," Wanda said, taking a sip of her drink before flashing you a mischievous smile. "Count me in."

"You’re not scared? Kate refused to help me because of that," you pointed out.

Wanda chuckled, setting her glass down. "Scared? No. This will be entertaining."

Before you could say anything else, she took your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor.

"You have powers, don’t you?" you asked as she led you into an easy rhythm.

Wanda smirked. "What gave it away?"

You shot a glance over her shoulder, catching Natasha’s intense stare. "You don’t even look nervous, and my girlfriend looks like she’s ready to kill you."

Wanda laughed softly. "Smart girl. So, where are you from?"

"Russia," you answered.

"Another Black Widow in the mix?"

You shrugged. "That makes three if you count Yelena."

Wanda’s smirk widened slightly. "Wait… you grew up with them, didn’t you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Wanda chuckled. "Natasha talks about you a lot."

Before you could respond, the music shifted to a slow song, and she extended a hand. "May I?"

You hesitated for a second but nodded, letting her pull you closer, her hands resting on your waist.

The moment barely lasted ten seconds before your Natasha appeared beside you. "What’s going on here?" She asked, her tone deceptively calm.

Wanda smirked. "Why didn’t you introduce me to your gorgeous girlfriend, Romanoff?"

"You just got back—I didn’t have time. And apparently, she can’t sit still," Natasha muttered, eyes flicking to you.

Wanda chuckled, stepping back slightly. "Well, I hope I get an invite to the wedding." With a wink, she walked away, leaving you alone with your girlfriend.

Before you could react, Natasha grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hallway. The air between you crackled with tension as she backed you against the wall, her face inches from yours.

"Care to explain what that was?"

You blinked up at her innocently. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Natasha’s lips curled into a smirk. "Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about."

"Are you jealous?" you teased.

Natasha's eyes darkened slightly. "When someone touches what’s mine, yes."

Your breath hitched. "Oh, so I’m yours now? Didn’t seem like it all night."

She scoffed. "So that’s what this is about?"

"No, I just—"

Natasha leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. "If you needed me, all you had to do was say so."

Before you could respond, she lifted you effortlessly, and your legs wrapped around her waist. She started kissing you, slow and deep.

"Wait, your work—" you managed to gasp.

"I finished half an hour ago," she murmured against your lips. "I just wanted to see how far you’d go for my attention."

You groaned. "You little—"

Natasha smirked as she carried you toward her room. "What? What am I?"

Her lips found your neck, and a soft moan escaped you. "Forget it," you mumbled.

"Good girl," she whispered. "But just so we’re clear—next time you try to make me jealous, I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to."

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Natasha, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs...

Yelena: At what? Hand-to-hand combat?

Natasha: Must be.

Wanda: Out of the kitchen! Both of you!

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Natasha: Why do yo have to be so tall?

Wanda: Would you prefer me on my knees?

Natasha: What?

Wanda: What?

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Ties that bind | Part 1

Beneath the surface of Wanda Maximoff’s marriage to Vision lies a web of hidden truths, as doubts and emotional distance grow.

The Maximoff house was quiet that evening, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clatter of Wanda organizing the kitchen. She was trying to plan the next day, but her attention kept drifting. Vision’s phone buzzed on the counter, left behind as he rushed out for one of his "meetings."

Wanda wouldn’t normally snoop, but something felt... off. A message preview flashed on the screen. It was from his secretary. Curious, Wanda unlocked the phone and began scrolling.

What she found made her blood run cold. What started as polite work exchanges had quickly turned into messages filled with suggestive comments. She clenched the phone in her hand, a mix of anger and disbelief surging through her. The man she had built a life with was a liar.

Setting the phone down with trembling hands, she looked out the window. In the backyard, Natasha was with Billy and Tommy. She was teaching them how to throw a proper curveball, her laughter blending with theirs as she cheered them on.

Wanda watched, her anger melting into something softer. Natasha had always been there. She’d taught the boys to read, helped them with homework, patched up scraped knees, and made them laugh when Wanda couldn’t. Vision had never filled those roles.

Later that night, as the twins slept, Wanda stood outside Natasha’s door. She hesitated for only a moment before knocking.

Natasha opened it, wearing her usual casual confidence. "What’s up, Maximoff?" she asked, leaning on the doorframe.

Wanda stepped inside without answering, closing the door behind her. She turned to face Natasha with trembling hands, "Vision’s cheating on me."

Natasha frowned, concern flashing in her green eyes. "That bastard. Are you—?"

"I’m fine," Wanda interrupted, shaking her head. "Because I’ve been lying to myself, too." She took a step closer. "I’ve been pretending I don’t have feelings for you."

Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned, before a slow smile spread across her face. "I was wondering how long it would take you to figure that out."

Wanda rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. "Shut up."

"Make me," Natasha teased.

Wanda grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and pulled her into a deep kiss. The temperature begins to rise, and as she gently pushes Natasha toward the bed, the readhead slowly pulls away, her voice steady but hesitant.

"Hold on, pretty," Natasha says softly, her breath shallow, "as much as I’ve been fantasizing about this, I don’t think we should… at least not tonight. I don’t want to take advantage of you, not after everything with Vision."

Wanda tilts her head slightly, narrowing her eyes in playful disbelief. "Hey, hey, wait a second. For one thing, I’m the one who kissed you first."

Natasha sighs, rubbing her forehead with a frown. "Yeah, but—"

Wanda cuts her off, her voice growing more serious, yet still tender. "And my relationship with Vision has been dead for a long time now, Nat. It’s been over for months. You don’t have to worry about him."

There’s a moment of silence, and Natasha stares at her, a hint of doubt crossing her face. "Are you sure about that?"

Wanda reaches out to touch her cheek, her eyes softening with sincerity. "Please, Natasha… I need you right now. I’m sure. I just want to feel you. You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get you out of my head."

A sharp breath escapes the readhead as she processes her words, her heart racing with a mix of emotions. "You’ve been thinking about me?"

Wanda smirks, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Of course I have, idiot."

Natasha's eyes narrow playfully. "Let me rephrase the question. Have you been... touching yourself, thinking about me?"

Wanda lets out a small laugh, her voice low and confident. "If I say yes, would you put your ego aside and actually make this happen?"

Natasha’s expression softens, her lips curling into a smirk of her own. "Maybe."

"Yes, Nat," She continues, her voice barely above a whisper, "I haven’t slept with Vision in months. And you… you were the only one who could help me relax, help me forget for a little while. Happy now?"

Natasha steps closer, her hands trembling with anticipation, but her smile is soft, almost tender. "Very."

Without another word, Wanda pulls her into a kiss, their lips colliding with urgency, a hunger that has been building for so long. Natasha responds with equal fervor, her hands moving to Wanda’s waist as she pulls her closer, not wanting to let go.

This time, she doesn't pull away. She allows Wanda to push her onto the bed, the sheets cool against her skin as Wanda climbs over her, her body pressing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Wanda begins to move in circles, her hips grinding against Natasha’s, sending waves of pleasure through her body. The redhead can't hold back a soft moan as the sensation overwhelms her, her body reacting instinctively.

Natasha’s hands move to Wanda’s waist, gripping her firmly as she flips their positions. Her lips trail down her neck, kissing her skin softly before pulling back just enough to whisper, "Don’t forget, pretty… I’m the one in charge here."

Wanda’s breath hitches at the words, a shiver running down her spine as Natasha’s lips continue their slow descent.

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Seat of desire

Rio confronts you for taking her seat, but when you refuse to move, she boldly sits on your lap. The playful banter quickly escalates into a charged interaction, revealing an unspoken tension between you both.

Rio’s glare burned from across the hall, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that seemed to cut through the noisy chatter around you. It wasn’t just a look—it was a challenge, plain and simple. She started walking toward you, her steps deliberate, her presence commanding attention without her having to say a word.

When she reached you, she didn’t hesitate. “You’re in my seat,” she said, her voice sharp and steady, each word edged with irritation.

You tilted your head back slightly, meeting her gaze with an equal measure of resolve. “I was here first,” you replied, your tone casual but firm. You weren’t planning on moving.

She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward slightly as if to close the gap and remind you who was in charge. “Move,” she said, her voice dropping into a warning tone, “or I’ll sit on you.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a playful grin. “Please,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice, “do it.”

Rio didn’t falter. If anything, your challenge only made her more determined. With a resolute huff, she stepped even closer and, without a hint of hesitation, lowered herself directly onto your lap. She wasn’t gentle about it either, the defiance clear in her every movement.

“Get up,” she commanded, her voice firm, though her smirk betrayed a glimmer of satisfaction.

You leaned back in your seat, unfazed by her attempt to intimidate you. “I don’t think I will,” you said coolly, your eyes never leaving hers.

She scoffed, adjusting herself on your lap with a deliberate, exaggerated movement that left no doubt she was trying to make you uncomfortable. “As you wish,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she leaned back slightly, clearly not planning on budging either.

The hallway seemed to grow quieter, as though the tension between you two had silenced the world around you. You finally broke the silence with a cheeky grin. “So,” you said, tilting your head slightly, “is this a prize or a punishment?”

Rio shot you a sharp side-eye, her brows knitting together in annoyance. “Shut up, idiot,” she muttered, but there was an unmistakable flicker of amusement in her gaze. It was faint, but you caught it, and it only fueled your teasing.

“And if I don’t?” you whispered, leaning in closer, your voice barely audible but deliberately provocative. Your lips brushed against the shell of her ear just enough to make her tense up. “What are you going to do about it?”

The tension between you both was palpable, a mix of frustration, amusement, and something deeper that neither of you were ready to acknowledge yet.

You adjusted her position slightly, your hands slipping underneath her shirt, gently caressing her skin. She immediately slapped your hands away, her voice sharp but with an underlying tension. “Hands still, pretty.”

Your grin widened, catching on to her slip. “Pretty?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow as though her words had sparked an entirely new game. “You think I’m pretty?”

Rio froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard by your teasing. A faint blush crept up her neck, and she quickly averted her eyes. “I didn’t mean that,” she shot back, her voice tinged with embarrassment, though her glare quickly returned.

“You said it,” you teased, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on her. Watching her flustered reaction was far too entertaining. “It’s okay, though,” you added with mock seriousness. “You don’t have to fight it.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head as though trying to rid herself of the growing tension. “Are you always this insufferable?” she asked, her voice laced with irritation, though it lacked the bite it had moments ago.

“I’m not the one sitting on someone else’s lap,” you pointed out, your voice dropping a fraction as you leaned in again, your tone deliberate. “And do you know what I think?”

Her eyes flicked back to yours, her brow furrowing. “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” she retorted, though her voice wavered slightly. Her hands gripped the edge of the seat tightly, but she still made no effort to get up.

“I think you like me more than you’re willing to admit,” you said softly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you watched her carefully.

Her expression faltered for just a split second, and you caught the way her lips pressed together in frustration. “You wish,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, but her body betrayed her hesitation.

“Maybe,” you conceded with a playful shrug, your hand resting lightly on her thigh. When she didn’t immediately push it away, you felt a flicker of triumph. “And if my touch really bothered you,” you continued, your voice softer now, almost a murmur, “you’d have gotten up already.”

Rio’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but she didn’t respond. Her shoulders tensed, and her gaze shifted, as though she was grappling with the truth of your words.

"That's what I thought," you said, your voice filled with quiet confidence, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. You leaned in just a little closer, your proximity both comforting and charged with something more.

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Drunk on love

At Tony Stark's New Year's party, Wanda, having had a few many drinks, becomes the life of the party. It's all laughts until Natasha decides to step in and take her somewhere more quieter.

Tony Stark’s New Year’s party was in full swing. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the Avengers were scattered around, either mingling or relaxing. Wanda Maximoff, however, seemed determined to enjoy the night to its fullest.

Having indulged in a few too many glasses of champagne, she was now the life of the party, twirling around the room with a carefree laugh. Clint had egged her on to try one of Thor’s Asgardian cocktails, and that was the beginning of her downfall. It didn’t take long for her cheeks to flush and her balance to wobble.

Natasha had been keeping an eye on her from across the room. She was sipping on a single glass of whiskey, staying sharp as always. When she saw the brunette climb onto a table, laughing and attempting to dance, she sighed and set her glass down.

Wanda swayed dangerously, one foot slipping slightly on the polished surface of the table. "Woo! Happy New Year!" she shouted, raising her glass high in the air.

Natasha was at her side in seconds, grabbing her waist to steady her before she could topple over. "Alright, that’s enough," She said firmly.

"But I’m having fun!" Wanda protested, her words slurring slightly, her smile wide and mischievous.

"Yeah, well, I don’t think ‘falling off a table and breaking your arm’ counts as fun," Nat replied, guiding her down gently but firmly, her eyes scanning Wanda’s expression with practiced precision.

As soon as Wanda’s feet were back on solid ground, she stumbled slightly, leaning heavily on the readhead for support. "You’re so bossy," she muttered, pouting.

"Time to go to bed," Natasha declared, ignoring Wanda’s complaint.

"I don’t wanna" The witch said, trying to pull away, but her coordination was no match for Natasha’s firm grip.

"I didn’t ask," She shot back, scooping Wanda up into her arms with ease. She, who hadn’t been expecting such swift action, giggled and wrapped her arms around Natasha’s neck as they left the noisy party behind them.

As they moved down the hall, the soft sound of music muffled by distance, Natasha carried her with effortless grace. When they reached one of the guest bedrooms, Natasha laid Wanda carefully on the bed. She reached for the blanket, trying to cover her, but Wanda began pulling at her clothes in a hazy, clumsy attempt to undress.

"Cover up, or you’ll catch a cold," Natasha said, her voice soft but firm as she tugged the blanket over Wanda to prevent her from stripping any further. Wanda pouted again, her eyes glassy with the effects of the alcohol, and she glanced up at Natasha with a slightly pouty expression.

"Are you not going to sleep with me?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and vulnerability.

"As much as I’d love to, no," The readhead replied with a chuckle, shaking her head gently.

"Why not? Am I not pretty enough?" Wanda asked, her tone shifting, as if she didn’t fully understand the situation but was trying to make sense of it all.

Nat sat on the edge of the bed and cupped Wanda’s cheek gently. "You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on," she said sincerely, her voice gentle yet laced with affection.

Wanda blinked up at her, slightly surprised. "Then do you have a girlfriend?" She pressed, tilting her head curiously.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her expression softening as she met Wanda’s gaze. "Actually, I’m engaged," she admitted, watching Wanda’s face carefully, searching for any sign of reaction.

"But you’re not married yet," The brunette pointed out, her drunken logic kicking in as she processed the information.

"No, but I will be soon," She said, unable to keep a small smile from appearing on her face.

"And who’s the lucky one?" Wanda asked, her voice softer now.

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, carefree sound. "You, idiot. You’re going to be my wife," she teased, her eyes gleaming with affection.

Wanda’s eyes widened in shock, a mix of surprise and something else flashing across her face. "We’re girlfriends? Like the kind who kiss on the mouth?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with earnest curiosity.

The russian laughed again, shaking her head fondly. "Yes, exactly. Remind me never to let you drink this much again," she added, though the playful teasing in her voice betrayed her affection.

"If you’re my fiancée, then why can’t you sleep with me?" Wanda asked, her pout returning as she tugged at the blanket in frustration.

"If it’s just sleeping, fine. But I see your intentions," Natasha said, a playful yet serious tone in her voice. "I’d never touch you while you’re drunk."

"Wow, what a boring girlfriend," Wanda muttered, crossing her arms dramatically.

Natasha chuckled softly, lying beside her on the bed and pulling the blanket over both of them. She leaned down and kissed Wanda’s forehead gently. "Go to sleep, okay?" she murmured, her voice a comforting whisper.

But the witch wasn’t quite ready to give up yet. With a mischievous grin, she climbed on top of Natasha, grinding softly. "But I want you to make love to me," she whined.

Nat, still calm and gentle, stroked Wanda’s cheek softly and laid her back down against her chest. "You’re drunk, babe," she said, her voice steady but filled with affection.

"You can get drunk too, and then we’ll be even," Wanda suggested, her grin returning mischievously.

"And who would take care of you, huh, gorgeous?" Nat asked with a smirk, her eyes full of teasing affection.

Wanda lifted her head from Natasha’s chest slightly and gave her best puppy-dog eyes. "At least give me a little kiss?" she asked softly.

"Just one," She relented with a sigh. "But don’t start asking for more and getting me into trouble."

"A kiss," The brunette demanded, puckering her lips.

Natasha couldn’t hold back her laughter as she leaned in to give Wanda a gentle kiss. "There. Now go to sleep," she said, her voice tender but firm.

"Another one?" She asked hopeful, her eyes wide and sincere.

Natasha smiled fondly, shaking her head as she tucked the blanket around them both. "You’re impossible," she whispered, before kissing Wanda’s forehead again and finally allowing the two of them to drift off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s warmth.

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Flirting with fire

During an innocent dinner with friends, a playful question about Wanda spirals into an unexpected revelation.

“Don’t you think Wanda is beautiful?” Carol asked out of the blue as the four of you sat having dinner. The question cut through the casual chatter like a sharp knife, and you froze momentarily, unsure of the intent behind her words.

You turned your head to the left, locking eyes with the witch, who was already staring at you with a curious glint in her gaze. “Mm, yeah,” you replied cautiously. “She is gorgeous.”

“Thanks, honey,” Wanda said with a small smile, her tone sweet but tinged with something mischievous, almost as if she were testing the waters.

Carol, not one to let the conversation falter, leaned in with an amused grin. “Weren’t you single?” she asked, her blue eyes narrowing with mock curiosity.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized where this conversation was heading. You leaned closer to Carol, whispering frantically, “What are you doing?” trying desperately to catch the thread of control slipping through your fingers.

Before Carol could answer, Natasha’s attention shifted sharply to you. Her green eyes were piercing as she asked, “Are you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah, but I don’t see why that matters,” you replied, your voice more defensive than you intended.

Wanda’s smile widened as she casually speared another bite of food with her fork. “Good to know,” she murmured, her tone laced with amusement.

“And why is that?” you asked, the nervous energy bubbling up as you tried to regain some semblance of composure. Perhaps a bit of flirtation would help.

Wanda tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself?” she teased, her words an open challenge.

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, your voice low, as if daring her to continue.

Natasha suddenly interjected, her voice soft but deliberate. “My love, can you pass me the salt?” she asked, her words directed at Wanda. The term of endearment hit you like a freight train, leaving you confused and more than a little embarrassed.

“‘My love?’” you repeated under your breath, glancing between Natasha and Wanda. Surely, you must have misheard.

Carol couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. “Yeah, they’re girlfriends,” she said, her amusement clear as she gestured between the two women.

Heat rushed to your face as you struggled to process the revelation. “Oh,” you stammered, feeling utterly foolish. You turned to Natasha, who was now watching you with an expression bordering on smug satisfaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you two were together.”

Natasha’s smile deepened, her green eyes glittering with amusement as she leaned closer to you, her voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Don’t worry, darling,” she purred. “But if you keep flirting with my girl, you might have to start flirting with me too. I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

Wanda chuckled softly, placing her hand gently on Natasha’s arm in a soothing gesture. “What Natasha is trying to say,” she began, her tone playful but warm, “is that there’s always room for one more... if you’re interested.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your mind reeling as you tried to process whether she was joking—or serious. Natasha smirked knowingly, her gaze lingering on you for a moment too long, as if daring you to respond.

Carol leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a wide grin. “Well,” she said, clearly reveling in your dilemma, “this just got a lot more interesting.”

You opened your mouth to reply but found yourself at a loss for words, the air around the table charged with possibility.