Your girlfriend was so smart, it was almost infuriating. Yes, the legal jargon she exchanged back and forth, with the other avengers, with their needlessly convoluted barbs swung way over your head (literally, seeing as how you were nestled quite comfortably in her lap whenever they decided to have a go of it), wasn't exactly a turn-off.*

What did piss you off, though, was how apparently, miraculously, when it was your turn to focus; she seemingly had nothing better to do than bother you incessantly. She, meaning Nat. The others a sweet, sweet angel—as always. (Except when theyre not).

Natasha: "Babe, c'mon. You're gonna get square eyes if you keep starin' at that screen."

Natasha grumbles into your shoulder, peering at your laptop with supreme disinterest as her nails dragged, lazily along your cheek. Natasha Romanoff, begging for attention? Impossible. Natasha Romanoff, nagging for your attention, however—