The Presidents Daughter || NATASHA X FEM READER
"You haven't done anything wrong Y/N," Natasha says softly.
"Then why are you acting like this? Why aren't you looking at me?" I raise my voice.
"Because you are my employee because you are the president's daughter and I am a Senator. You have a boyfriend at home, a great one and I can't be with you," She still doesn't lookup.
"But last night you-"
"I had a lot of work to do over the last 2 months. You were just my destresser, just sex. I made the mistake, however, of choosing you, the president's daughter," Her eyes finally come up to meet mine.
"Stop calling me that." I scoff.
"What?"
"The president's daughter, that's been what everyone has called me since the news came out. I've tried hard to make a name for myself, I have several published articles in the New York times, one of which I even read at the UN climate conference. I've even spoken in front of congress. Not one of those articles mentions that just that I'm my parent's daughter and whether I decided to wear Gucci or Prada to the coffee shop that morning. The least you could do while admitting you used me is address me correctly, I am Y/N Phoenix, you will call me Y/N Phoenix and nothing else. Now, I'm sorry if I misunderstood our conversation last night, I'm sorry if I misunderstood our relationship," I lift myself up from the seat by putting my hands on her desk and lean in closer to her. Her head tilts up to keep our eye contact, "but I'm even more sorry that you'll have to settle for caterers and paralegals, and that you'll remember me when their cunts don't taste as sweet as mine."
