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OLDER MOB NAT! AND HER YOUNG (FRESH GRAD) INNOCENT! R WHO WORKS AS HER ASSISTANT IN THE OFFICE.
warning: older!nat, younger!reader, mob boss, age gap relationships. SFW
When Natasha entered the room with you in tow, your hairs travelled to the sway of her hips. You couldn’t help but blush at the sight of your boss’ curves, feeling inappropriate at the way you ogled her like she was your girlfriend.
But her dark voice broke you out of her little reverie as she finally say behind her desk, blazer unbuttoned just as she shirt, just enough to give you a glimpse of her lace bra and the purple hickeys that adored the plump of her chest.
“Just set it down here, hon.”
You nodded, blushing at her pet name your boss gave you. And despite it all, you were warm all over as you leaned over her desk and organized the paper of the revenue of her club.
“Are you all set, Miss Romanoff?” You asked her softly before you decided to leave, your back straight and posture perfect as you stood in front of her. “Anything else I can get you?”
She shook her head, eyes settled on the papers in front of you. She didn’t bat an eye at you, only hummed and when you nodded, you picked your feet from the floor and headed towards the door.
“Actually,” she started, “there’s one thing you forgot, dear. Come back.”
Your heart pummeled out of your chest, fear settling in your bones at the thought of fucking up some of her paperwork and accidentally leaving it unorganized.
But when the mob boss stood from her chair and walked around her desk to sit against it, she smiled as you neared her presence once again.
She cocked her head, eyes settled into yours.
“You think I wouldn’t remember?”
You frowned, eyes shaded in shame at her words.
“I knew you were busy, Natty.”
Natasha clicked her tongue and then shook her head, eyes heavy as she looked at you. When you refused to look back, her hand reached out and tilted your head up to force your gaze onto her.
“I’m never too busy for you, hon.” Her thumb grazed the apples of your cheeks and then dragged them over the slope of your nose. A flush snuck up on your face and the older woman grinned. When Natasha leaned closer and caressed her nose against yours, you took initiative and gave her crimson lips a peck.
The woman pulled back with a raised brow, her emerald eyes wide and dark as she looked at you with surprise.
“You’re getting bold, sweetheart.” She squeezed your cheek together. Then, after letting a moment pause, she smiled and closed the gap to press her lips against yours. With the taste of cigarettes and coffee present on her tongue, it envelopes you with surprise. The older woman teases your mouth open and even widens the kiss enough.
The sounds echo in the room, almost pornographic, you’re the first to pull away when you lack air.
“Don’t forget to bring me the manila folders when you come in for your lunch break, okay?” You nodded at her demand. After all, above everything else, she was still your boss at work. At home, in the comfort of her million dollar condo in the heart of New York, she was Natty, your girlfriend.