MARVEL'S MONSTER HUNTER WORLD

"Unfortunately, at that time, she had nothing but beauty and figure."

Watson stood up, stretching slightly before strolling toward the window. He ignored the subtle wariness in Natasha's gaze, his posture relaxed but unreadable.

"Alright, that's enough storytelling for today. If there's a chance, I'll continue. But for now? I'm hitting the sack. Don't forget to bring me what I want tomorrow."

Derick yanked off his shirt, muscles flexing under the dim light, and dropped onto the bed, utterly unbothered by Natasha's presence.

She stood there for a long moment, arms crossed, eyes flickering between the window and the man lying in front of her.

Finally, she spoke.

"That story you told me… was it true?"

"If you ever hear the full version, you'll know," he replied, voice laced with amusement. "And if I said the person in the story was you—what would you think?"

Natasha hesitated. She wasn't sure how to answer that. Instead, she asked, "Where exactly do you expect me to sleep?"

"Wherever you think is best."

A pause. Then—

"Natasha… do you have a family?"

The question caught her off guard. Her expression wavered for just a second before she answered, "No. Never."

She turned toward the moonlit window, eyes distant. For a brief moment, the hardened spy looked… vulnerable.

"Actually, I'm like Stark. The playboy, the billionaire. A happy family, warm smiles… I had a glimpse of that once. Just a glimpse. And even though I know people like me can't have it, I still—" She exhaled, her voice soft. "I still want it."

Derick sat up slightly, his gaze sharp. "In all your missions… have you never had a night like this?"

Natasha smirked, the amusement barely masking something deeper.

"Why?" she teased, head tilting slightly. "Hoping I'll fall for the 'Flame Knight' charm and beg for another bedtime story?"

"If you want to hear it, just listen carefully." Watson shrugged. "By the way… how old are you?"

Natasha shot him a look but didn't dwell on the question. Instead, she turned her eyes back to the moon.

"I was born in 1984. Former Soviet Union. When I was young, I was taken to a place where girls like me were trained. Some survived. Some didn't. They taught us how to fight, how to kill… how to seduce. If you failed, you were erased. That place was called the Red Room."

Her voice was steady, but there was a weight to her words.

"After graduation, I was recruited into the KGB. My job? Get close to people—men, women—it didn't matter. Then eliminate them. Take what the organization needed and move on."

A beat.

"But later, I betrayed them. Joined S.H.I.E.L.D. At least now, I tell myself I'm walking in the light instead of hiding in the shadows. I tell myself I'm a good person."

Her fingers curled slightly.

"But never—never before—have I been in a situation like tonight."

Watson listened, silent.

Born in 1984. That meant she was from the movie universe.

Still, he had to be careful. Afghanistan had already made him suspect that Professor X was watching him.

He exhaled slowly, then turned to Natasha.

"Sergeant Wilson, I accept your earlier apology. And I won't tell Aunt Liya—not yet, anyway. Not until I know she can handle it. You shouldn't tell her either. Don't dig your own grave."

"Now go to sleep."

Natasha, sitting on the balcony, blinked. She hadn't expected that.

The night air grew colder.

She rubbed her legs together for warmth, glancing at the man sprawled out on the bed.

Not exactly a gentleman.

She hesitated.

Then—

She made her decision.

Standing up, she reached for her uniform buttons, slowly unfastening them. Then the trousers.

Bathed in silver moonlight, she looked almost unreal—like something crafted by the night itself. The glow softened the edges of her usual allure, leaving something far more dangerous.

Watson, who had spent way too much time joking about seducing the infamous Black Widow, suddenly felt a cold, soft body slip into his arms.

And then—something even more intense.

??? Did I just summon Shenron by accident? Did my wish actually come true???

He swallowed, brain catching up with reality. Still, he had to ask—

"This… is this just another part of your training? Spy seduction protocol?"

"No," Natasha whispered, voice steady. "Right now… I'm just Wilson. A simple cop. Who admires the Flame Knight."

Her body was warm against his. She remembered the feeling from dinner that evening.

She wanted to try.

Just once.

She wanted to see what it felt like to live for something other than deception.

She had always envied Clint's family. She never said it, but every time she saw little Lila and Cooper, her heart ached.

She'd even joked with Laura—if she ever had a daughter, she'd name her Natasha.

And now… maybe this was a chance. Maybe—just maybe—she could touch that feeling.

And if it didn't work out?

She'd walk away.

She always did.

Derick flipped her over, pinning her beneath him, locking eyes with her piercing blue gaze.

"Do you understand what this means?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But if possible… I'd like to hear the rest of the story."

With that, she let go.

Watson smirked. "Let's forget the consequences for now," he murmured. "But first… you should know something very important."

Natasha's fingers curled around his neck. "What?" she whispered.

His grin widened.

"Dragon's rage… isn't so easy to handle."

The curtains rippled as the night wind rolled in.

Moonlight poured through the window, growing brighter and brighter.

Watson stirred.

Warmth pressed against him—real, tangible.

Slowly, his eyes opened.

A familiar face rested on his shoulder.

A slow smirk curled on his lips.

From the moment you got close to me, your fate was sealed.

I know you better than you know yourself—ten years from now.

Smug satisfaction settled in.

I have to admit… this "Rage Sonata" is way better than last time.

And best of all—

It's permanent.

A sleepy murmur drifted from the woman beside him.

"...En? ...Don't move~"

Visit

patreon.com/Purhitee

For 30+ chapters