Madness

Song Inspiration: Love is Madness, 30 Seconds to Mars ft. Halsey

Disclaimer: Marvel owns them, to my everlasting sadness. The song isn't mine either (Thanks for the inspo, Jared!)

December 1991

She reached down to touch the scar at her hip. She could never forget the adrenaline rush that the mission had given her. Protecting the ambassador was her last mission as a double agent. He was a blue target, but she had to protect him in order to keep the Americans' trust. When the Soldat had shown up she had known that things were about to get very messy. He had gained the upper hand, and even though she had tried to shield the ambassador with her own body the Soldat hadn't flinched and had shot him anyway, right through her abdomen. It was as though their affair during her time as a Widow trainee had never happened, had never mattered, that she hadn't mattered to him.

It had been the sole event that had finally convinced her to join the American's side completely. Fuck him. Fuck the Reds. Now here she was, in Washington D.C., calmly sipping a beer and watching Michael Jordan dominate on the basketball court. They were saying that he would be on the team to go to the Olympics in Barcelona next year. She'd have to get tickets. What a different three years had made. She got off on the rush of a mission, but had become just as comfortable in a public and relaxed environment like this one. She finished her beer, paid the bartender, and wrapped her coat over her shoulders. It was freezing outside, and she was not looking forward to the walk to back to her apartment even though it was only a few blocks west.

She had gone no more than two blocks when she saw him. A man was walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the street. He was unmistakable. The hair, the way that he carried himself as though no one could or would ever touch him or even existed beyond as far as he could reach. Indomitable.

It was the Soldat.

Natasha's lips curled involuntarily. She had been praying that she would see him again, if only to show him what it feels like to be shot through a fleshy part of his body. Her scar tingled, as though knowing that it's creator was near. Natasha ducked into a shadowy enclave of a doorway and watched as he walked, steadily and without urgency. Had he seen her? She could never tell with him and his thousand-yard stare. She watched closely as he came nearer to her position. She detected the slightest shift of his eyes in her direction and knew that he had not only seen her, but also recognized her. Nothing else would have deterred him from whatever he had been focused on.

Impulsively, she walked out of the shadows and crossed the street directly toward him. He did not falter once in his steps, but his eyes locked onto hers immediately. The distance closed between them and the naked eye could not have seen the way that their bodies each tensed as they stopped with only inches separating them. She challenged him with her eyes, fiercely willing him to try her. She could feel the sleek metal of the bracelet containing six Widow Bites. She was suddenly dying to see what they might do to the conductivity of his metal arm. He stepped closer to her and grabbed her decorated wrist, pulling her body closer to his with a strong grip. She did not hesitate and quickly wrapped her arm around his waist, spinning just so that they were both facing the same direction - the opposite of where he had been headed before.

Whatever the reason for his being in D.C., it could not be good and she made it her mission to prevent him from completing it.

The Soldat matched his steps to hers as they walked in perfect, rippling silence away from the bar and the evening crowds. Neither said a word or changed their position until they reached the front door of her building. She paused and glared up at him with a smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her eyebrow plucked and she pulled away from him to unlock the door. He had not loosened his grip on her wrist the entire walk, and did not loosen it now. Her bracelet was covered by his hand, to her chagrin. The time for a bite would come. Soon. She pulled him into the door behind her, dipping her head in greeting toward the doorman and another late night resident. They walked up the two flights of steps and only when she had unlocked the door to her apartment did the Soldat revert to the intensity that she both loved and feared.

Natasha was thrown against a wall and he pressed his body against hers, almost painfully so, with his knees pinning her lower thigh against the wall. She reacted with a leg that curled around his and an elbow to his chin, knocking him back. He did not lose his footing and moved to backhand her but she ducked and grunted as he blocked a punch she aimed at his chest. She moved back, dancing around the corner and ducked in time to avoid the swing of his metal arm, slipping under his legs and scaling the wall until she landed on his shoulders, tightening her thighs around his neck. His hands gripped her hips and he barrelled her into a wall, knocking the wind out of her. Her thighs loosened and he flipped her off of him, pushing her face first into a wall and gripping her hands behind her back. He pressed into her again, and this time she could feel his hard body against her ass. Her adrenaline spiked and she knocked the back of her skull against his face, disappointed when she didn't feel his nose crunch but gleeful that he released his grip on her. She spun to face him and kicked him square in the chest, knocking him back against the wall. She grabbed one of the bites and tossed it at his arm, grinning smugly when his fist and arm went slack. He frowned and moved to pluck the bite off his arm, but she was quicker and spun until she was able to flip him onto his back.

She stepped over his flesh arm, pinning it with her boot. They locked eyes and she felt her insides flip. He smoldered, angry at being bested by her for even a moment, but beyond that his eyes were hungry. He overpowered her leg and reached up to grab the hem of her jacket, pulling her down onto him. She had one leg on each side of his torso, she felt his muscles tense as she placed one hand on his chest. Natasha plucked the bite from his arm and he put a cold metal hand under her shirt on her waistline. He pulled her hips in closer, grinding against her.

She slapped him. He barely flinched. She smiled. Seeing his eyes steel into her sent shivers down her spine. She pressed into him and he gripped her hips even harder, his usually cold eyes suddenly burning with an intense desire that melted her resolve. She tucked her ankles over his thighs and leaned down to softly press her lips to his, so lightly that they barely touched. She felt a faint shiver ripple along his jawline as she trailed her lips across the stubble toward the soft spot just beneath his ear lobe. She remembered being able to make him hum by nipping at the upper edge of his ear, and it had the same satisfying effect tonight.

She was suddenly on her back, the wind knocked out of her, and the Soldat had pinned her arms above her head with his metal arm and the warm hand was under her shirt, cupping her breast. She bit her lip, pushing herself into his hand, and he lowered his mouth to her neck and bit her collarbone. She moaned, wanting more. He loosened his grip and ran a metal finger along her lip. She flicked her tongue out and his eyes grew dark with lust. She pushed upward and into him, causing him to back away. Feeling bit smug, Natasha knew that the Soldat rarely backed away from anything except when it most advantaged him. It would in this case. She walked with him and he sat back into a chair. He saw everything; he had not bumped his legs against the chair's edge. He knew exactly where it was. He knew where everything was the moment they walked in.

Dropping the jacket to the ground, she slowly dipped to her knees, maintaining eye contact with him as she reached up to his buckle. She made quick work of the belt and zipper, taking him into her hand. He was firm and velvety as she moved her grasp along his length. Their eyes were locked as she touched the tip of her tongue to him. He did not blink as she took him into her mouth. He only inhaled sharply and his jaw relaxed slightly. She lathered her attention on him, watching him from underneath her dark lashes. The Soldat maintained every ounce of self-control, though she could see that his fingers itched to reach for her hair. He had always loved her hair, red and vibrant, seen from miles yet still made her mysterious to all she met. She felt him pulse inside her mouth and pulled away, a small string of saliva remaining to connect her lips to him. She placed both hands on his knees and pushed away from him, pleasurably watching as his face grew stern and his body tensed. He was on his feet and her legs wrapped around his waist in seconds. He pressed his lips to hers in a frenzy, parting them with his tongue and sucking on her lower lip, bruising her lips.

He sat her on the table, pushing her legs further open with his hips. She felt him pressing against her, felt herself growing wet. He reached between her legs with his metal arm and ripped a hole in her tights before pushing against her most sensitive area with a cold metal finger. She hissed at the sensation and bit his lip. He broke the kiss and knelt down between her legs, daring her to stop him with his eyes as he pressed his lips to her center. She watched him slowly push his tongue against her clit, darkly watching her reactions to every touch. She resisted throwing her head back in pleasure as he suckled her and pressed a warm finger inside her, forcing herself to watch every delicious moment of the Soldat being on his knees in front of her.

It was a mutual power being passed between them. She was completely at his mercy, yet he had offered himself to her by the physical disadvantage of being beneath her. She trembled, feeling the intensity build, and her fingers gripped a handful of his hair as the waves rocked outward from her core, curling her toes as she wrapped her thighs tighter around his head.

"Soldat," she whispered. He stood and flipped her so that she was face down, bent over the table with her breasts pressing into the polished wood. He pushed her leggings down roughly and smacked her ass with his flesh hand. She didn't even wince, prompting another smack from him. Then another. She could feel the bruise forming on her ass, yet was unphased. He reached forward to take a handful of her hair and pulled her head back as he brought his lips to her ear.

"Say it," he breathed.

"Fuck you," she retorted. She felt his lips curl into a grin. He shoved himself into her forcefully, making her breath catch. But she wanted it. Just like this. She wanted to feel the pain. She wanted to be reminded of the way he hurt her. She wanted to fuel her own desire to hurt him back.

When he pressed his chest to her back, though, she felt the lust for revenge burn away and be replaced by an intense desire to share this moment with him. She moaned, gripping the edges of the table as he moved in and out of her, savoring every moment of the friction she felt inside, of the way his hand reached around to press against her clit. Her knees bent as she angled herself so that he could go even deeper. They moaned in unison as he reached new depths. He pulled out quickly and the cold air against her wetness made her gasp. He flipped her onto her back and pressed his tongue and teeth against her again, causing her to cry out in ecstasy. She pushed his head into her, arching her back at the sensations of his tongue sweeping through her folds and then fevered prodding of his fingers inside her, searching for the velvet center. It only took a few seconds of this lavished attention for her to feel the delicious contractions around him as he curled into the sweetest of spots.

Her legs were trembling as he wrapped them around his waist. She tried to make him wait, pressing a hand against his chest. She actually needed a moment, but she watched as he bit his lip and brushed her hand away, knowing that she would get no such respite. Not from him. Her eyes widened as he plunged into her again, pressing deeply into her core. He held her hips in place as he drove into her, a wild force of hunger and need propelling every thrust.

She felt the intense throbbing inside of her and he dug his fingers into her hips, clenching his jaw and curling his body over hers as he spilled into her, one, two, three hard thrusts before collapsing over her. His breathing was ragged and a sheen of sweat glistened on his shoulders.

She brushed the hair away from his eyes. He pressed a kiss to the top of her breast and then picked her up, holding her close to him so that he stayed inside her. He laid her on her bed, covering her body with his own. She ran her fingernails over his thick arms and muscled back and he shivered, but she felt him grow hard inside her again. A devilish smile played at her lips as she looked up at him hovering over her. "I never said that I would be your lover," she whispered, teasing him in their shared Russian language.

"I never said that I would be your friend," he whispered, his lips tickling her ear. She flipped and was on top of him in a flash. She lowered herself onto him, moaning with pleasure as he filled her. It was going to be a very long night.

More One-Shots to come. Reviews Appreciated.

~xXx~