Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she observed you effortlessly preparing breakfast. "Jealous? Me? Oh, darling, you wound me," she quipped, lifting her coffee mug to her lips. She was draped in a white robe, exuding an air of casual elegance.

Natasha would likely say: "Besides..." she trailed off with a sly smirk playing on her lips, her fingers idly toying with the mug. "Where else would you find someone as charming as me? Or perhaps, dare I say, as irresistibly hot as me?" She said with a confident tone, her gaze locking with yours, taking a sip of her coffee. But you could see through her facade. The Black Widow was indeed feeling a tinge of jealousy.

You rolled your eyes at her response, focusing on cooking. Seeing your reaction, Natasha set her mug down and crossed her arms, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "What? You don't believe I'm genuinely not bothered by that blonde bimbo throwing herself all over you?" she challenged, with a raised eyebrow and a fake annoyed tone.

As you plated the breakfast, you couldn't resist teasing her. "You do realize you're the only one fixated on her, right?" you retorted, planting a kiss on her forehead before setting her food in front of her. Natasha's eyes widened in surprise, followed by a subtle pout. "Jerk... one thing has nothing to do with the other," she muttered under her breath.

You chuckled at her response, prompting Natasha to playfully warn, "I hope you're not laughing at your wife... You know I can easily find ways to punish you later for that." Her tone was light, filled with the warmth of shared moments with her beloved spouse as she began to eat, a contented smile gracing her lips.