#mcu short

[mischievous-thunder]

Meanwhile Wade:

[cissa-calls]

Treasuring those looks of ecstasy when the coven rode their brooms and tasted the sky and LIVED beyond the darkness. They had just engaged in crafting brooms, reclaiming a part of their practice. A tradition that involves exchange and coven hood. Then, reveling freely in the blood moon. And Agatha looked at Rio with eyes that saw how utterly untamed a being, and infatuated, she still was with her. Lilia’s chuckle of “I haven’t done this in centuries,” because she, more than all of them, has remained hidden in her witchcraft the longest. The stars, the clouds and night air, all theirs.

[thedesertpenguin]

I’m going to be so fucking real I don’t think I heard a single line uttered during this scene

[waayoutofline]

Avoiding every mistletoe (Until I know It’s true love)

Marvel Masterlist

PROMPTS: Shy Natasha Romanoff and Lab Assitant!Reader

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, awkward and clumsy Nat, Tony's lab asistant reader, christmas fun! ( posting this during actual christmas), meddeling avengers, a sprinkle of hurt/comfort.

Summary —> Ever since Natasha met you, Tony's new brilliant assistant, she has been down bad. But her sudden lack of confidence around you banishes every hope for her to make a move. Christmas is around the corner, and the team knows about your superstitious nature. There seems to be a clear answer: Mistletoes.

WC: 5473

Warnings: Descriptions of making out, but not explicit sexual content.

***

November was in full swing at the Avengers Tower, which meant sophisticated red, green, and gold decorations adorned every surface, Christmas songs played on an endless loop through the speakers, and the unmistakable aroma of gingerbread wafted (somehow) through the air.

As was classic Tony Stark fashion, a lineup of extravagant holiday parties had already been scheduled and meticulously planned for execution. Natasha Romanoff though was already dreading it.

Hoping to avoid any unnecessary interaction, she quietly sneaked into the communal kitchen, intent on grabbing a couple of waffles Wanda had made earlier. But as soon as she stepped in, she felt the weight of several pairs of eyes on her back.

“Ah, Miss Romanoff, there you are!” Tony’s voice rang out, cheerful and full of purpose. He was already decked out in one of his newest suits—sharp, festive, and annoyingly ostentatious.

Sighing, Natasha turned around, realizing it was too late to make a run for it. She was greeted by the sight of her team sprawled across the couches and armchairs in the lounge, each of them absorbed in their own activity, but now casually watching Tony’s sudden commotion with mild interest.

“Morning,” Natasha grunted, reluctantly moving to join them, plate in hand.

“Just the person I was looking for!” Tony said, flashing a shit-eating grin as he patted the empty space beside him on the couch.

Instead of humoring him, Natasha settled herself on the fluffy rug in front of the coffee table, placing her plate down without a word.

“You are officially invited to the pre-Christmas party hosted by moi,” Tony declared dramatically.

“Tony, you literally held us hostage at one last week. I still have a hangover,” she deadpanned, recalling flashes of the chaos where even she had gone overboard with the alcohol, thanks to Sam Wilson’s stupid drinking games.

“Oh, come on! This one’s different. It’s intimate—just for us heroes and co,” Tony countered, undeterred. Then, leaning back smugly, he added, “I even got the space lady to come. How awesome is that?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Oh don’t be boring. Where’s the wild Natasha Romanoff we all love?” Tony teased, grinning as if to provoke her.

“Easy. She doesn’t exist,” Natasha replied flatly, cutting into her first waffle. She let out a satisfied hum at the sweet taste.

“These are amazing, Wanda,” she said, looking over at the young witch.

Wanda, sitting comfortably on a loveseat, smiled warmly at the compliment. “Thanks, Nat.”

“Is it a new recipe?” Natasha asked, curious.

“Yes, actually. I added a bit of cinnamon and—”

“Okay, okay!” Tony interrupted, baffled by the lack of attention he was receiving, looking bewildered between them two. “Let’s get back to the main thing here. Are you coming?”

At Natasha’s reluctant silence, Steve stepped in with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Natasha. I’ll make sure he’s on his best behavior.”

“Ugh, boring—” Tony groaned, dragging the word out in sing-song. But under Steve’s hardened stare, he sighed in defeat. “Fine. It’ll be a cozy hangout. No traces of fun or whatever,” he relented, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Taking another bite of her waffles, she carfulkly took a sip of her coffe, trying to hide her smirk as she sees Tony waiting in anticipation fo her response. “Fine.”

Tony threw a punch onto the air, clapping in victory. “Carol is coming you said?”

He nodded proudly. “Yeah I managed to rope her and her little sidekick in. There is also the kid, Clint and his family…”

”Dont forget Strange.” Bruce, who just entered the living room reminded. Tony grumbled a bit at that. 

“Yeah, Houdini too. Scary lady and Patch eye…god were those hard to convince— Oh and my lab assistant too.” Nathasa choked at that.

”Assistant? She practically takes over your lab.” Bruce chuckled. 

Tony rolled his eyes, but there was no hint of malice. If anything, a spark of pride made his eyes a bit brighter. “Yeah well, I taught her well. Did you knowl that last week she-“

 Nathan’s brain disconnected at a scary speed after those words. Images of you hit her hard, and she could already start to feel her heart race a bit. 

Y/N Y/L/N was Tony Stark’s most recent lab and tech assistant, and to say he was impressed would be an understatement. After reviewing your résumé, Tony had practically declared you a godsend. You were one of the rare people who could keep up with his eccentricities, effortlessly managing the stream of tasks he threw your way. It didn’t take long for you to earn a permanent spot at the Avengers Tower.

Natasha remembered the first time she saw you as if it were yesterday. She had been on her way to ask Tony for a replacement for her gauntlets after a particularly rough mission. When she stepped into the lab, though, she was surprised to find someone else hunched over the workbench.

Frowning, Natasha set her hand on the fingerprint scanner, the door sliding open with a soft whoosh. At the sound, the stranger turned around, and Natasha froze in place.

For her, the world seemed to stop spinning, settling into an almost unnatural silence. You were… ethereal. 

In her life, Natasha had faced aliens, wizards, and even sentient robots. So how far-fetched was it to assume she was now standing face to face with an angel?

Even though you didn’t know her, a gentle smile settled on your lips, your gorgeous eyes peering at her with almost childlike curiosity. Natasha stood there, frozen in place, unable to move. It wasn’t until something shifted in the silence that she remembered to breathe again.

Startled, she realized she hadn’t moved from the doorway. The door had automatically closed where she stood, trapping her. Embarrassed, she quickly stepped forward, pushing herself to snap out of it.

And, of course, she had to stumble. The gauntlets she was holding slipped from her grip and fell to the floor with an unforgivable thud. Cringing, she immediately knelt down to retrieve them. What she didn't expect was for you to do the same, even if your movement were more calm. 

She flustered when she dared to look up, finding your own awaiting gaze. “Well, if they weren't broken before, they sure are now.” You joked with a smile, tone teasing but not judging. 

Blinking, Natasha started sputtering, not really knowing what to say. Or how. “Yes.” 

“Yes” is what her stupid brain decided to go for. Even thinking about it even now, her face scrunch with self embarrassment. What was even happening? Taking a breath, she redirected her eyes to the ground. Right, the gauntlets. They are broken. Need them fixed.

Finally standing up, she forced her body not to fidget. As if sensing this, you offered a hand to her. “Y/N Y/L/N, Mr.Starks new hire here in the lab.” 

Tentatively, she accepted the shake. Her mind hanging on how your hand seemed to fit into hers. “Natasha Romanoff. Um, avenger.” 

God what’s wrong with her? You giggle at that, and the sound is enough to get her out of her head. Of course that the sound is also beautiful. Was there anything about you that wasn’t? Why is she even think that?

 “I know. Pleasure to meet you, Ms.Romanoff. So…may I help you with those?” You ask, your hand still being held by hers. Noticing this, Natasha removed her grip as if you were burning. 

“Please.” She ended up saying, utterly embarrassed by her behaviour. Still, you gave no sense of judgment, only nodding and taking her over the workbench. 

She stayed with you all that evening. And most of the next ones after that. 

***

Her infatuation with you only seemed to grow since that first meeting, and the others quickly picked up on it. They saw it in the way Natasha—the most grounded person they knew—started sputtering and flustering whenever she talked to you. The unshakable confidence she was known for seemed to melt under the warmth of your sunshine smile and the twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

And as much as they insisted for her to make an actual move, Natasha refused. 

“Uh-oh, I know that look.” Wanda sang, like a high school girl teasing her friend in high school when they listened the name of their crush. Rolling her eyes, Natasha scoffed.

”There is no look.”

”Oh, but there is.” Clint, who was watching Sam and a struggling Bucky play Mortal Combat added, not even looking away from the screen. “Your pupils practically shape into hearts— likes a lovesick puppy. It’s almost painful to watch.

”Shut it Barton.” 

You were too good for her, Natasha decided on her own. You were like the sun, kind and warm, gentle in a way that it was entirely selfless. Natasha's life was one of dangers and precautions, she didn’t want to expose you to any of the threats that surrounded her lifestyle. 

Even if she ached to be close to you, call you her own. 

“Now it’s the time to make a move. Who knows? Maybe you will find each other under the mistletoe.” He adds with a wink.

Tony hummed. “Hm, that’s actually a good idea.” 

Her head whipped toward him. “Don’t even think about it, Stark. Besides, that’s a stupid tradition. How do you even know that Y/N would willingly kiss someone just because a stupid parasitic plant is above her?”

They all laughed at that.

“Our Y/N? Please. She practically had a mental breakdown when I broke a mirror in the lab the other day,” Tony quipped, grinning.

Wanda nodded in agreement, casually flipping through the pages of her book. “Yeah, once she made me search the entire tower for something made of wood to touch, just so I wouldn’t jinx the next mission after I mentioned a hypothetical worst-case scenario. Still don’t get that one.”

Natasha’s face went pale at that, remembering a conversation she’d once had with you. You had mentioned that, while you didn’t fully believe in superstitions yourself, your family did, and it had resulted in some strange and unshakable habits for you. “Better safe than sorry,” you had said with a shrug.

A cold sweat made her tremble slightly, worsening by all of a sudden interested and sneaky grins on her friends faces. 

Whatever, she still can not go.

***

She still had to go.

When you confirmed your attendance, you clapped excitedly, rambling about how fun it would be to spend your first Christmas together. You even brought it up when she bought you lunch—a frequent occurrence, since you often got so engrossed in your work that you forgot to eat. Natasha would be lying if she said your words didn’t tug relentlessly at her heart.

And so, there she was, surrounded by the thrumming chaos of an all-together gathering, overwhelming decorations, and overly festive arrangements at every turn. Anxiety prickled at her as she glanced toward the newly decorated attic. They couldn’t possibly have infested the entire place with mistletoe, right?

Wrong.

They were everywhere.

On every doorway, on the stairs, in the high columns and ceilings, even on top of the Christmas tree, scattered around—everywhere she looked, there it was. Mistletoe.

Trying to shake it off, Natasha focused her attention on the ground, her sharp gaze scanning for the culprit behind this festive ambush.

“Tony!” she half-yelled, her steps quick and deliberate as she marched toward the eccentric billionaire, who was in the middle of a conversation with Pepper.

His head whipped toward her, a flicker of fear flashing across his face before his usual smug smirk returned.

“Care to explain?” she demanded.

“Explain what, exactly? My fantastical abilities to host, or…?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement.

She glared furiously. “Aw, c’mon, don’t look so grumpy, Grinch! This is a time of tradition, joy—”

“And manipulation?” she interrupted through gritted teeth. “This is way too much.”

Despite her glare and the unmistakable edge in her voice, Tony remained unfazed. If anything, his amusement only grew. He glanced over her shoulder, his expression brightening as he perked up.

“Well, complaints are non-refundable. Sorry, it’s the new policy. If you’ll excuse me, Pepper needs me to sign some super high-confidence document, right, dear?”

Pepper frowned. “What are you talking ab—”

Before she could finish, Tony gently grabbed her hand and began steering her away, the two trailing off into the crowd.

Natasha was about to follow and press him further, but a voice behind her made her freeze.

“Nat, hey!”

She turned around, and suddenly, everything seemed to slow down for her. There you were, wearing a comfy red sweater, black jeans, and a pair of Mary Janes. Your hair, usually tied back for work, was flowing freely, framing your face. It was a simple, casual look, but Natasha felt her face heat up at the sight of you.

As you got closer, alarm bells blared in her mind. Her eyes darted upward, and her stomach dropped. One of those dreaded mistletoe clusters hung right above where you were heading.

Panicking, she practically sprinted toward you, desperate to avoid both of you standing under it. But she miscalculated her speed, and before she knew it, she was barrelling straight into you.

You let out a startled huff as her momentum almost knocked you over, but her quick reflexes kicked in, and she steadied you before you could stumble.

“Geez, Romanoff,” you joked, brushing yourself off as you smiled up at her. “We just saw each other this morning. Did you miss me that much?”

Your teasing tone and warm voice snapped her out of her panic, but the damage was done. Natasha’s heart was hammering in her chest, her senses overloaded as she became acutely aware of how close you were. The soft warmth of your body pressed lightly against hers, the delicate scent of cocoa beans, coconut, and something distinctly you filling the air around her.

Her cheeks burned as her mind scrambled for something—anything—to say as she looked down at you, mortified. Luckily for her, your attention diverged when someone from the staff (who even brings staff in closed up parties?) bough a chocolate fountain in a rolling chair. “No. Way.— I thought he was kidding!” 

And just like that you went off excitedly, a silhouette of dust being the only trace of you left. Sighing, Natasha brought her hand to her racing heart, trying to figure out a way to survive this evening. 

Her eyes opened again in determination, she was going to take off these damned things, starting with the one right on top of her. 

***

This task, however, grew increasingly difficult as the evening wore on. Between being roped into endless conversations, you constantly looking out for her (and her desperately trying to avoid you), and the absurd number of mistletoes everywhere, Natasha felt like she was fighting a losing battle. It was as if they were multiplying before her very eyes.

Her frustration peaked during a particularly embarrassing moment—one where, of course, you were the witness.

After listening to Peter and Kamala endlessly gossip about high school drama, Natasha had collapsed onto the sofa, her patience hanging by a thread. As her gaze wandered across the room, her eyes landed on the ceiling—and there it was. Another  mistletoe. This one was perched slightly higher than the others, hanging right above the beanbag chair where you often sat. Of course.

Those strategic bastards.

Taking advantage of everyone being distracted in the kitchen, she sprang into action. With no ladder in sight, she grabbed a nearby chair and carefully climbed onto it. Still too short to reach, she braced herself against the shelves, stretching precariously as she balanced. Every slight wobble of the chair made her heart lurch, but she pressed on, determined to remove the offending decoration before anyone noticed.

But of course, that was the moment you walked in, calling for her.

“Nat? Aren’t you hungry? I saved you some of those little pies you like so much—”

Your voice startled her, and she immediately looks down at you. Her grip slipped briefly, the chair wobbling dangerously beneath her.

“Y/N! Shit—” she hissed, her heart leaping into her throat. Scrambling to steady herself, she clung to the edge of the shelf and managed to avoid completely losing her balance. She froze, her cheeks heating as she realized you were staring at her, bewildered.

“What… are you doing?” you asked, the corners of your lips quirking up in confusion and slight amusement.

Blushing furiously, Natasha’s mind scrambled for a reasonable explanation. “Um… I was just… looking for Clint? You know how much he loves to hide up here.” she said with a nervous laugh, trying to sound nonchalant.

Before you could respond, someone brushed past you, momentarily breaking the tension.

It was Clint, holding a bottle of rosé wine, with the kids trailing behind him. “No alcohol until you’re 21,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.

“But I am 22!” Kate argued.

Clint snorted. “Sure you are.”

As they disappeared into the kitchen, you turned your attention back to Natasha. Arching an eyebrow, you crossed your arms, your curiosity clearly not satisfied.

“Oh, great! There he is!” Natasha blurted, clinging to her flimsy excuse. She waved awkwardly in Clint’s general direction, desperate to change the subject. “Let me just—”

But as she began stepping down, her foot slipped on the edge of the chair. She let out a startled gasp as she lost her footing entirely.

”Oh my- Natasha!”

***

She even tried to gain support in enemy territory.

“Steve!” she called out. The man looked over at her and clearly tried to sneak off, but it was too late. “Just how many are there?” she asked, her desperation evident. So far, she’d removed eight mistletoes and had endured three risky situations where she’d practically had to run away from you.

“Of what?” Steve replied, taking a sip of his drink, feigning ignorance.

Natasha huffed, crossing her arms. “Please, let’s skip the act. I know you also took part in this.”

Steve remained silent, his expression unreadable but gullible. Natasha sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Steve, you’re the most reasonable one out of all of them. Just tell me where the rest of the mistletoes are!”

She could see the guilt on his face—he was clearly uncomfortable. Steve Rogers wasn’t a man who lied easily. As he opened his mouth, clearly about to crack, Sam and Wanda swooped in.

“What are we talking about?” Sam asked with a goofy smile, casually draping his arm around Steve’s shoulders as if shielding him from her interrogation.

Natasha’s left eye twitched. “You know exactly what, Wilson.”

“Hmm, do I?” Sam teased, his grin widening.

Natasha ignored him, focusing on her second-best shot, since it was clear Steve wouldn’t be of much use now.

“Wanda,” she said, turning to the witch, “how many mistletoes are there?”

Wanda shrugged, playing innocent.

“If you tell me…,” Natasha added, her voice turning sly, “I’ll lend you those boots of mine you like so much.”

Wanda hesitated at that, her composure faltering slightly. “… The ones with the metal buckles?”

“The ones with the metal buckles.”

Wanda’s eyes glinted with temptation as she weighed her options. But after a brief internal debate, she furrowed her brow and firmly shook her head and crossed her arms. “No. We’re doing this for your own good, Natasha.”

Natasha laughed forcefully, her expression taut with frustration. “For my own good? I’m losing my sanity over here, Wands.” Her tone was sharp, but her forced smile remained plastered on her face.

Just then, a voice cut through the air, making Natasha freeze.

“Have you guys seen Natasha? I swear I just keep losing track of her today,” you said, your voice light-hearted as you spoke to Bruce and Tony.

The group perked up at your words, and Natasha’s head snapped toward the sound of your voice. There you were, standing across the room, looking as radiant as ever as you chatted with the two men.

As Tony and Bruce were about to point in her direction, Natasha didn’t waste another second—she quickly ducked behind the rolling chocolate fountain cart, slipping out of sight just in the nick of time.

***

It all came down to the climax of the party. Most of the children were asleep by now, and only the closest circle remained. Natasha was exhausted but relieved. She had finally managed to get rid of all the mistletoes, even if, in doing so, she had humiliated herself in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

Now, she could finally relax and hang out with you. Or at least, that’s what she thought. A wolf whistle and cheers erupted from her friends, who had formed a circle outside on the terrace. Curious, she approached, only to regret it immediately as she was squashed between Steve and Bucky.

Her face went pale as she saw the final mistletoe, hanging right above you and a smug Carol Danvers. In her frantic pursuit of avoiding standing under a mistletoe with you, someone else had managed to get there before her. This outcome was far worse, and dread filled her as she watched the scene unfold.

She couldn’t stand it. The way Carol got closer with bravado and you, with a smile (it was more polite and friendly than anything, but at that moment she didn’t see it like that), made her heart drop.

The world once again slowed down, but this time it was for her and you. And she just couldn’t stand it. Shattering the slow-motion moment, her mouth and body moved faster than her mind.

“Wait! You’re supposed to kiss under the mistletoe, not near it! I mean—look at that angle, it’s tilted and all wrong. Besides, is it me or are the leaves…wait, let me just scoot over here—” she muttered, pushing her way through the onlookers to get to the mistletoe. Everyone went quiet in surprise as she reached it and caressed the leaves. You just stared at her, but she seemed to pay no mind. “Ah, as I thought! These leaves are all dried. How about we replace it? Here, I know where we can find a suitable one. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

Without thinking, she took your hand and practically dragged you away, turning back toward the group. “We’ll be right back.”

Everyone remained quiet as they watched the two of you disappear.

***

“Here, let me just…” Natasha started, trying to find her card in her pockets. “Where did I—ah, here.”

With quick motions, she attempted to swipe the card to unlock her room. You stood behind her, watching her increasingly desperate attempts to open the door.

“Nat…” you started softly.

Chuckling awkwardly, she waited for the green light, but it still wasn’t processing for some reason. “These are so annoying. I keep insisting to Tony that he should just put in a code, but he doesn’t listen—”

“Nat.”

“Typical of him, I know. Let’s try again.” Waiting for the red light to turn off, she swiped again, and this time the light turned green. “There, finally.”

You tried calling her again, but she interrupted. “Sorry for the wait. There are some left in my room, let’s just pick one and…” She said, turning the handle and opening the door, knowing that all the stolen mistletoes were in the corner.

“Natasha!” You finally yelled, making her turn around with wild eyes. Uh oh, you almost  called her Natasha.

Your face held no negative feelings, only the patience you were known for. “Nat.” Slowly, you grabbed her trembling hand and got a bit closer. Your worry made her squirm.

“What’s going on?” you started softly, as if trying not to scare her. The consideration and gentleness in your voice made her almost burst into tears. “You’ve been behaving… strange this entire party. Running around all over the place… avoiding me.” You whispered the last words, clearly pained, and her heart shattered.

The last thing she wanted was to make you feel bad. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your question was so raw, your expression vulnerable, and Natasha wanted nothing more than to wrap you in her arms, kiss you gently, and reassure you that you didn’t—couldn’t—do anything to upset her. But she couldn’t, and the knowledge of it broke a little bit more.

“No, no, of course not. It’s just—” She started, her words getting stuck in her throat, unsure of how to put them together. “The others decided to put the place swarming with mistletoes.”

You looked at her in confusion. “Okay…why?”

Refusing eye contact, Natasha took a deep breath, her heart pounding so loudly that she thought you could hear it. Without dropping your hand, she stepped a little closer, her legs slightly trembling. She figured the best thing to do was to just say it and get it over with. She had already been making a fool of herself the entire day. But saying it was harder than she thought it would be. The fear of rejection was suffocating her.

“Because…” Finally daring to look at you, her neck reddening all up to the point of her ears, being suddenly conscious of the warmth radiating. “Because they know how serious you are about superstitions. And that if we got caught under one, then I… then I would finally dare to kiss you.”

The admission came as a whisper, shame and embarrassment hitting her like never before. It was as if she was going to combust from the inside. A pause hung between the two of you, each second of it feeling like a stab straight to her chest.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine losing you. You had become so close this year, and to think that just a couple of silly words could ruin everything was killing her. Her eyes closed tightly, waiting for the worst—a rejection, disgust, or just pity. Any of these would shatter her.

But it never came. Instead, she felt warmth—a gentle caress on her cheek, you softly urging her to open her eyes and look at you. Your face was far from the rejecting one that Natasha’s brain had conjured. Instead, it was a reassuring one, with a bright smile like the one you first gave her the day you met, your eyes soft and bright under the lights.

She blinked, as if the soft touch had pulled her back from her darkest places. Her heart seemed to stop, no longer beating out of fear but for hope. Because as she studied you, she saw nothing but kindness and happiness.

“You… you’re not upset?” she asked, as if it were too good to be true.

Your smile widened, laughing softly under your breath at her surprise. “Nat, how could I ever be upset? I—” This time it was you who searched for the right words, your cheeks flushed with a lovely rosy color that Natasha couldn’t help but find fascinating. “How could I, when I’ve been waiting for you to do this for quite some time?”

Your admission hung in the air, like a symphony. Natasha could feel the weight of the world lift from her shoulders. “You have?”

“Of course I have.” You confessed, as if the question were ridiculous to even ask. “You’ve been everything my heart has been yearning for, Natasha.”

Natasha sure wasn’t a poet, but right now she was seeing the world as one. The way in which your words embraced her, your slightly dilated eyes looking at her as if she was the only one on your mind.

Was this what the others saw? The look she has been too oblivious to see?

She wanted to hit her head in frustration, all the time wasted because of her doubts. But she was free of them now, having you as her savior.

Getting closer, she dared to pull you closer by your waist, marveling at how it felt in tandem with her movements, as if you two had done this a thousand times before, in different lives, before this one.

“So… you’re telling me I made that champagne pyramid fall all over Fury for nothing?” she asked, as if it were a secret.

You laughed loudly at that, remembering the moment when Natasha stumbled all over the table later on in the evening. Everything seemed to make sense now.

“You know…” you started, the laughter dying down as you softly tucked a piece of Natasha’s hair behind her ear, your touch lingering on her jaw. “For someone so intelligent and charismatic, you sure are clumsy at times.”

Natasha huffed, rolling her eyes with an affectionate smile. “Only because you…” she started, but caught herself, her eyes slightly widening.

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Only because of that? Do I make you nervous, Romanoff?” You grinned, adoring the way she seemed lost for words.

Sputtering, she tried to defend herself, but someone beat her to it.

“Very much so!” Tony yelled.

Your eyes snapped toward him, only to see the team huddled up behind the corner.

You snickered, Natasha flustered. “What are you…? Go away!” She hesitated.

Tony smirked. “Not so fast, Romanoff! You have to kiss.”

Confused, she followed his hand motion, only to see a mistletoe floating with surrounding red magic.

“Damn it, Wanda…” she muttered, but you just laughed at your friend’s antics, hiding your face in her shoulder.

Natasha’s attention shifted back to you, her smile filled with adoration. Finally, you peered up at her.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she started shyly, not wanting to pressure you into doing anything. But you only got closer to her.

“I don’t know, I think you do owe me a kiss,” you replied with a grin. “You know, to balance the universe.”

“Yeah…” she muttered, eyes lowering. “To balance the universe.” She reaffirmed, leaning down. But before her lips touched yours, she gripped you and dragged you both into her room, slamming the door shut. She ignored the muffled complaints heard from the hallway as she pinned you against it, wanting to have you all to herself.

Connecting her eyes with yours, she searched for any trace of doubt, but found nothing but darkened irises. Hesitation left her once and for all as she leaned in, her lips meeting yours. She sighed, and everything else seemed to fade into the distance.

The kiss was slow at first, gentle and tentative, giving you both time to discover each other. But the passion, held back for so long by insecurities and “what ifs,” broke free like a dam, intensifying everything tenfold. Her hand gripped your waist slightly harder, while one of your hands trailed up to her hair, tugging it just enough to make her shudder. Urgently, she pulled you even closer, as if afraid you might disappear.

Her breath quickened as she felt your body pressed against hers. The kiss deepened, turning frantic with all the pent-up desire. Suddenly, you tugged at her bottom lip, almost provocatively, as you looked up at her through your eyelashes. Natasha groaned, her heart racing. It was like seeing a whole new side of you, and she just couldn’t get enough.

Licking into your mouth, she hummed as your knees seemed to buckle, holding your hips to make sure you didn't fall.  No, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when she finally had you in her arms.

You could feel the tension in her body as you traced her shoulders and back, her muscles tensing with every movement. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of you, kissing you—consuming you with everything she had.

It left you breathless. If anything, air became the only obstacle, the only force capable of separating you. Both gasping for breath, you didn’t dare to say anything for a moment, just taking in the overwhelming sensation of being so close, so lost in each other. 

“You know, technically…” you started slowly, a playful smirk on your lips. “Technically, you interrupted my kiss with Carol before.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, her grip on you tightened, a small growl escaping her at the thought of anyone else getting the chance to do what you had just done. But you quickly calmed her, softly cupping the side of her face. “So, you owe me another kiss.”

She looked at you with darkened eyes, a mix of desire and challenge in her gaze. “I guess you’re right… We wouldn’t want to have bad luck.”

“Of course not,” you repeated, your lips brushing against hers as you gently guided her closer. “You know how superstitious I am.”

“Yes, I do,” she whispered, a teasing smile crossing her face as she closed the distance.

[gloriousburden]

Spiraling at the fact that Loki is so tall. Like yeah, obviously he is… but I’m thinking so hard about it and it’s driving me insane… grrrrrrrrr I need him

The way he makes everyone look tiny.. I am unwell

He is so long

[sleeepybeary]

☆ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ☆

: imagine wanda expecting you to come undone for her as she gives you the laziest of reasons to do so.

Imagine laying on your back, shaky legs being forced apart by the firm hands of your lover as her tongue runs so carelessly through your cunt. Her tongue being so free in its movements, almost as if she didn't care for how you were basically begging for something more than just a flick to your clit every few moments.

"Please, Wanda... please stop messing around with me"

She'd snarl slightly, the corner of her lip tugging upward at your words as she'd only dig her nails further into the marked up skin of your thighs.

"It's mommy, darling, and mommy gets to do whatever she pleases with her baby girl"

Feeling the length of her tongue drag against your gone sensitive clit, all you could do was gasp out - hands forging their way into your pillows and eyes closing shut in a desperation to focus on just feeling.

"Ah-ah, baby, look at me"

Groaning lightly, you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth and raise your head enough to be able to see the other woman with her mouth half-latched onto you. She was a beauty, but right now, she was the devil.

"That's it, darling. Now, can you give me what I want? Can you cum for me?"

[xxplastic-cubexx]

the way u tuck charles hair behind his ear like a dainty elf princess whenever u draw him sends me every time, i know erik would agree 🙏🏻

i fear im adopting 'dainty elf princess' into my vocabulary here on out thank you for this wonderful gift anon

might you accept my small gift in turn ... i was inspired ...

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

⊹ ࣪ ˖🐾₊˚ I DON'T PURR : 709 WRDS

INSPIRED BY @cloudbug08 ‘s CG LOGAN HEADCANONS ; DRABBLE |🐾| A/N : No one will ever stop me from making CG!/Dad!Logan fics. At all. Ever.

You’ve been regressed all day. Yesterday was a busy, stressful, overwhelming day, and now you’re coping with the stress. Logan is by your side, caring for you as usual. You lay on the living room floor’s carpet, tummy pressed to the ground, legs kicking up in the air. You breathe contently as you carefully color the page Logan printed out for you.

You could hear him in the bathroom down the corridor near the stairs. He was carefully grooming his hair while humming a tune that sounded a little too familiar. A soft smile crept onto your lips once you recognized it, it was the sound of your favorite cartoon’s intro. “I know that song,” you chirp, gaining a soft chuckle from the man. “You sure do, kiddo. So much that you’ve got me hummin’ it myself,” he replied. He set down the comb before letting out a soft sigh. The sound of his boots slightly clacking against the hardwood floor made you turn your head and giggle out of excitement when you see him. “Kitty hair! Kitty hair,” you exclaim. “Not kitty hair,” he corrected while shaking his head.

“Kitty hair” is what you’d call Logan’s hair any time he had it brushed up like little animal ears. As much as he denied that they were meant to be ears to represent any animal, he never truly cared that you called it kitty hair. He found it pretty cute and grew fond of the term.

“Can I pretty please play with it,” you plead, clasping your hands together. Logan shrugs in response. “I dunno, bubs,” he drags out playfully. “Pretty please? I promise I’ll get that one spot behind your ears that you really like,” you add in an attempt to get him to accept your request. He looks down at you sweetly, hands on his hips, one eyebrow cocked. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he groans dramatically, feigning annoyance. “But you gotta clean up all that arts and crafts stuff you got going on.”

Without hesitation, you nod in agreement. You start to clean up your crayons and coloring pages with haste. Within minutes, you’re done putting everything up, now sat on the couch waiting for Logan to come lay his head on your lap. You stretch your hands out to him grasping the air between you two. “Calm down, kiddo. I’m coming,” he assures you. He walks closer to you, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, slips off his boots, and lays his head in your lap. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable by putting one leg on top of the other and crossing his arms against his chest. “There you go, bubs,” he hums with a deep exhale. You squeal with excitement as you gently begin to play with his hair. You run your fingers through the strands, scratch his scalp, and when you scratch behind his ears, you hear something. Purring. He always purrs when you play with his hair for long enough.

“You purr,” you exclaim with a giggle and a huge grin on your face. Logan sighs in return. He shakes his head in denial “You’ve got it all wrong, kid. I don’t purr. Wolverines don’t purr. You’re making things up,” he protests against your previous claim.

You felt his throat vibrate softly against one of your thighs and listened closely. As you told him, he was purring.

“You purr like a kitty, then,” you chirp back. Another deep sigh. He’s not even annoyed with your claim. He knows you’re right. He just doesn’t want to admit to his kiddo that he purrs. “I don’t purr. I didn’t purr,” he states firmly. “It’s not right to lie to your papa,” he said with a light-hearted chuckle. “But you did! I promise,” you pout to him. “I’ll prove it,” you say before beginning to scratch at his scalp again.

Sure as hell, he purrs. He grumbles softly to interrupt his purrs in protest. You know you’ve won once you hear a soft sigh fall from his lips as you scratch right behind his ears. More purring. “Guess you’re right, bubs,” he chuckles softly while closing his eyes. “Just keep scratching. It feels nice,” he adds with a smile creeping onto his lips.

TAG LIST : @saronics

[inkmonster21]

As a renowned pop star and the sister of Ryan Reynolds, your life was filled with glitz, glamor, and attention. When you meet Hugh Jackman, everything changes. It's as if the very fabric of your world is shifted, and you find yourself drawn to this charismatic, magnetic man in a way you've never experienced before.

1. Who’s the Cute Boy in the White Jacket?

2. I Can Scratch His Back But He Can Claw Mine

3. Lock Me Down Tonight

4.Jacked and Kind

5.That’s That Me Espresso

6. Don’t Embarrass Me Motherfucker

7. Stay in My Good Graces

8. Paintings With His Tongue

9. Pick Me Up, Pull ‘Em Down, Turn Me ‘Round

10. I Wanna Try Out My Fuzzy Pink Handcuffs

11. Drawin’ Hearts ‘Round Our Names

12. You Say You Really Like It Being Mine

13. We Were Going Right Then You Took A Left

14. Come Ride On Me, I Mean, Camaraderie

15. I Leave Quite An Impression

16. I Have A Fun Idea Babe, Maybe Just Stay Inside

17. Do Something Sus, Kiss My Cute Ass Bye

18. Too Bad Your Ex Don’t Do It For Ya

19. You’ve Lost All Your Common Sense

20. You’re Confused and I’m Upset

21. Don’t Cry Because It Happened Baby, Cry Because It’s Over

22. And Everyone Makes Mistakes

Heavily inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s album Short n’ Sweet

[doodles-bi-tea]

lewis pullman. how I adore you. (a gif set.)

Sources (in order):

Lefty/Righty (2019)

Craig’s Pathetic Freakout (2018)

Where You Are (2016)

Holy Roller - Double Feature, MAESA & Kyle McNeill

Vanity Fair - November 2021 Issue

The Voice In Your Head (2020)

A video I think Monica (Barbaro) posted from behind-the-scenes of Top Gun: Maverick (2022) - featuring her, Lewis, and Danny Ramirez

Guzzle Buddies (2024)

[gazpachito]

redraw of a carol danvers i did back in 2018 when the trailer for the captain marvel movie first came out 💥💥

2018-2024 comparison under the cut

[mischievous-thunder]

Bonus:

Because when these freaks are gentle their emotional floodgates open

[tempobaekh]

Short N’ Sweet

pairings: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned

a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me

Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.

Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.

Or maybe more like knock his pants off.

Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.

You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he’d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.

With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him

He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.

“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”

“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.

Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.

When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”

Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.

You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.

“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.

Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.

"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”

"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”

You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”

His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”

“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”

“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”

You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."

He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here… You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”

That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."

When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.

Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.

As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.

The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.

Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"

"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.

The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”

You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.

"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."

His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”

"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.

And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[ortofosforico]

Ok but y'all need to stop being cowards and start embracing comic book Logan instead...

As the two apples-tall gremlin that he is.

Wade's top is pocket sized, and I think that's beautiful.

[waayoutofline]

MRS.CLAUS AND HER HELPER

PROMPTS: “This is just pointless” and “Fine, I’ll just do it myself then.”

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Grumpy x Sunshine, fluff, awkward Nat, resident sunshine reader, christmas fun! (yes, I’m aware is actually eastern but idc).

Summary —> Natasha has feelings for you. Feelings that make her feel grumpy whenever you are near. Unfortunately, she has no opportunity to avoid you as she is assigned to a holidays mission with you.

WORD COUNT: 2927

“Miss Y/L/N, you are being requested in the conference room,” Friday announced through the speakers, causing you to halt in your tracks, the dummy of practice finally getting a break. Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you stretched your limbs before grabbing a towel. It’s only been three days since you returned from your last mission, so it catches you off guard to be called in already.

After quickly hitting the showers, you head to the lift, pressing the button while humming. But just as the mechanical doors are about to shut, a hand slips in between. “Hey, sorr-…Oh, it’s you,” a rather dry voice comments.

A smile spreads across your lips in a matter of seconds, your eyes following the figure of Natasha Romanoff slipping almost in resignation. “Good morning, Nat!” you greet her cheerfully.

“Morning,” she grumbles. “Where are you going?”

“Conference room,” her eyes widened, enough for you to connect the dots. “Oh, you too? That’s great! Perhaps they assigned us a new mission.”

Natasha, usually a morning person, grumbled. “Oh, yeah… joy,” she says, her tone lacking enthusiasm.

You might think that the red-headed spy isn’t too fond of you. Most would believe she really didn’t like you. She’s always scoffing, complaining, and even whining when forced to be in the same space as you.

But quite the contrary. She is fond of you. That’s the problem.

These fuzzy feelings did nothing but anger her. She has always been in control. She’s supposed to be. She’s a trained assassin, cold and ruthless. And yet, there’s something about you that makes her nerves betray her.

It’s her secret. Well, she is convinced that it’s a secret. The truth is that the whole team is aware. They know how Natasha Romanoff has a soft spot for the resident sunshine. Tony even has a pool going around for when she is going to actually do something about it.

Not that either two of you are aware of this fact.

You seem to be clueless. Unaware of the way Natasha’s ears turn pink whenever you smile at her. Of how her heart aches when you do as little as laugh, the sound so clear and joyful. Of the way she silently but deadly threatens anyone who dares to even tease you. Once, the team, except Wanda and Natasha, devoured your stash of sweets, not aware that they belonged to you. Unfortunately, that day you were particularly sensitive and a few tears slipped away before you could mutter, “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

And unfortunately for the boys, Natasha’s darkened eyes watched silently as the tears caressed your cheeks. The following events that happened are not to be mentioned. Just know that the next day, they all bought bags and bags of your favorite goods, besides apologizing like crazy. Confused, you accepted everything with a “Thanks?”

You aren’t aware of any of that.

She just disconnects as you happily chat away, talking about how excited you were about the incoming Christmas festivities. Plans about decorating the whole tower and baking cookies and brownies and watching Christmas movies with the team and….The ding sound in the air as Natasha practically throws herself out of the lift. You giggle softly, “Where’s the fire at, Nat?” You tease, walking calmly in different ways to her wide, fast-paced steps. Natasha curses to herself, cheeks blazing. It should be illegal to be this cute at such hours.

“I just don’t want to be late,” she snaps. You shrug, not affected by her harshness. That’s another thing that baffled her. Usually, she intimidates even the senior agents with her direct personality and ironic comments and yet, you never seem to be hesitant or scared at all to approach her. It’s like you are immune to it.

Is she losing her touch? She feels like she is losing her touch.

Her hands go to the handle, opening it before doing a painfully awkward gesture for you to go in first. You smile in gratitude when passing next to her, the familiar scent of vanilla making her hold her breath.

“Y/L/N, Romanoff,” Nick greets, dramatically turning around. You say a cheery hello, Natasha just nods. Let’s get this over with. “I know you both just been on a mission, but we need your assistance on this.”

Natasha feels her stomach drop. Taking a seat, the director gives you both two copies of a report. Skimming through it, Natasha’s eyes widen. “Oh no, absolutely not.”

“I knew she was going to say that,” Tony chimes in.

“Don’t give her more reason to not do it, Tony,” Steve sighs.

“Are we sure it’s them?” You ask dubiously, eyes still on the paper. Fury nods.

“Yes. We have had surveillance on them for the last month, all points that they have they must have their next exchange somewhere in this mall. They are using the upcoming festivities to go more unnoticed.”

Natasha sighs. “So what, are we supposed to go and possibly catch them in broad daylight?” Fury shakes his head.

“Not exactly. We need you two to go undercover, keep a low profile and watch out for more suspicious activity. A few boxes of cargo isn’t enough to take the entire operation down. While we know they maybe are dealers on the area we don’t exactly know if it’s a full on operation. ”

The Russian’s eyebrows furrow. “Why not send an agent then? Have them confirm.”

“This is too delicate. A couple of rookies are less likely to draw attention. I need your eyes, subtlety, and Y/N’s enhanced hearing,” Fury explained.

Natasha sighed in frustration, pushing the folder away. “So, you want us to go into a mall full of late Christmas shoppers and look for suspicious drug trade that you’re not even sure is happening there?” she summarized.

Fury nodded. “Aren’t you perceptive, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha opened her mouth to protest further, but Fury beat her to it. “Now, how do you two feel about Santa?”

***

“Oh no, absolutely not,” Natasha huffs indignantly. The sounds of the rushing people are muffled by the door, the lights already making Natasha dizzy. You turn your head to look at her over the shoulder.

”Oh. Do you want to be the elf, then? I don’t mind-“ She cuts you off with a grunt.

”No, I don’t want to be anything. This is absolutely ridiculous. Just wait until we return to the tower, Fury is going to hear it.” A laugh escapes you at the scowl on her face. She sends you the mean look, but you don’t even flinch.

“It’s not that bad. Think of it as a Christmas spirit operation.” You try to cheer up, not really finding the zipper of the disguise. A scoff.

“We’ve been following this narcotic clan for months now, all leading us into dead ends. Perhaps we should start to consider the fact that they aren’t even in America anymore. This is just pointless.”

You shrugged your shoulders, putting the green suit on your shoulder and going to the changing room. “Fine, I’ll just do it myself then.” The spy’s arms, which were crossed, almost get out of their place as she grabs your arm. Gentle enough to not hurt, but firm enough to stop you.

You look up at her and she feels like she is about to faint. “What- no. What if they are here—…”

“You just said they may not even be here, so there’s nothing to worry about.” The reassurance doesn’t seem to calm her, but you keep walking away. Your legs are barely out of the storage room when she calls you to stop.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, fine! Fine. Just…” She stops you, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let’s get this over with.” You clap in excitement and face lighting like a christmas tree, spinning happily. A satisfied grin on your face that she doesn’t get to see. “Great! See you in five minutes, Mrs. Claus!” You sing as you finally exit. Natasha almost hits her head on the wall at how easily she just gave in.

She has definitely lost her touch.

***

“Mommy, why is Mrs. Claus looking so grumpy?” a little kid asks her mom as they pass by, the woman giving you two a disapproving look. You nudge Natasha’s side with your elbow.

“Yeah, Mrs. Claus… light it up a little, will you?” You mutter with a tight smile. “And also, don’t sit like that.” Natasha huffs, but changes position on the tall, red velvet-covered chair.

“Shut it, elf, or I’ll have you sent to the North Pole in no time,” she answers snarkily, but you were too distracted relocating the wall of fake gift boxes to have a better view.

Still, you look at her with an eyebrow raised. “What was that?”

A gulp. “Nothing.”

For as sweet as you were, you did know how to throw a mean glare. Was Natasha into it? Absolutely not.

“That’s what I thought.” The cheers of children echo, Natasha’s face paling as they all line up. Before she can say something about it, you put a hand on her shoulder. “Now, smile bright and be nice to the kids.”

”Bet you wouldn’t be so happy about having small people sit on your lap.” Faking a pout, you bend slightly to look her in the eyes.

”Aw, does that mean I won’t have a turn later?” You tease. And suddenly, all the remarks that the redhead had disappeared into thin air, never to be found again. You giggle. “Careful, your face is matching with your disguise.”

She is still sputtering indignantly by the time you redirect your attention to the crowd, a big bright grin on your face. The fact that she finds you cute even in the ridiculous elf suit you’re wearing speaks volumes.

“Merry Christmas everyone!” You greet happily, dramatically doing a reverence. “See, Santa has got a bit too many sweets before going to sleep situation.” Everyone cheers sadly. “But lucky for us, someone came all the way here all the way form the North Pole to save the day, give a big applause everyone for…Mrs.Claus!” Everyone claps excitedly as Natasha does a big, strained smile and salutes everyone to the public. The children (and even the parents) cheer loudly.

“Marry christmas. Who is ready to sit on my lap?” Natasha asks in exaggerated happiness, flushing some more when you give her a sneaky wink. What did she do to deserve this?

***

Ten or so children go by, all asking for their gifts. You want to think that everything is going well so far, no sign of any undercover trafficking, and everyone seems to be having a great time. Even Natasha.

“What do you want, kiddo?” The little boy grins toothlessly.

“I want a pink pony with fire breath and Pegasus wings!” The redhead hesitates.

“Well, those are rare… Anything else that you want?” The kid stops and thinks for a bit.

“Mmm, oh yeah! I want for mom and dad to bring their adult friends home instead of hiding them from each other. That way we can have a party!” Natasha’s eyes widened, choking on air. Your hand flies to your mouth in surprise as Natasha looks at you in panic. You send her a look that screams “You better fix this.”

“A pink flying, fire-breathing pony it is then!”

Besides that one, of course.

As fewer and fewer kids are in the waiting line, you feel yourself relax. If anything were to happen, at least there won’t be people who will get hurt. Natasha stretches lightly on the chair. When looking at the next kid, a little smile appears on her face. “Would you look at that? You look exactly like a smaller version of someone I know,” she mentions as she pulls the kid onto her lap.

The girl smiles, and you get an idea of who she reminded her of. “Really? From the North Pole? Is she magical?” Natasha makes an exaggerated thinking face while you scoff lightly.

“Well, she is a little bit of a troublemaker at times…” Natasha says dramatically, making the girl laugh. “But yeah… you could very well say she is magical.” Her voice is soft, sincere. You can’t help but blush a little.

***

“Ugh, I’m sweating. Why is this thing so hot?” Natasha complained as you two walked side by side, finally being able to catch a break. You nodded absentmindedly, your eyes wandering until you suddenly froze. Still wrestling with the disguise, Natasha didn’t notice. “I’m suffocating. This can’t be legal…”

“Natasha,” a couple of men scurried into a door next to the bathroom stalls. You recognized the characteristic tattoo of a crossed couple of spears on their necks until they both disappeared.

“It has way too many zippers and—” You hit her with your elbow, startling her.

“Stop it! Give me some room to complain, woman. I’ve already accepted plenty of your side eyes this morning.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled her along by her hand. Her eyes stuck where you two were touching. “What are you…” As you opened the door, you followed down the hallway, being careful not to be spotted. Shushing her and slightly pulling her against the wall to cover with the shadows, you pointed to the now visible men, who were around the corner in a small operation room. There were gift-themed boxes scattered everywhere, alongside bags of bright purple powder. Still, for anyone, it could be said this was a normal management room.

“Pretty sure there aren’t any Barbie houses in those boxes,” Natasha muttered. You nodded, counting the number of guys. “So that’s how they do it. They benefit from the holidays to smuggle the drugs…” She trailed off.

“…and because there is so much activity and shipment movement it goes easily under the radar.” You finished happily, looking up at her with a grin, only to notice that she was already watching you. Her eyes locked on your hand, which still rests softly on her upper chest, the space between the two of you being almost nonexistent. In your excitement, you didn’t notice how close you were.

For a second, you didn’t say anything. No happy comments or quick remarks. She didn’t say anything either, no sarcastic retort or reproach. The only sounds were your breaths and the faint pulse of a frantic heart.

Even if it felt like it was frozen, there was this notion that one of the two was moving slightly closer. If not both of you. But as it turns out, time didn’t actually freeze, and it didn’t take much for someone to spot you.

“Hey, what are yo-… Oh shit.” Someone exclaimed, making both of you jump away from each other. You caught the movement of Natasha reaching for the taser that (you didn’t approve of) was strapped on her back. However, a quick analysis of the man’s face told you enough to make her stop. She looked at you in confusion before reading the spark in your eyes. A nod.

“Oh, sorry, we thought this was an empty closet…” You giggled, dramatically grabbing Natasha’s arm and putting your face on Natasha’s shoulder, nuzzling her neck. You felt her tense before her arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer. You were pretty sure that extra beat wasn’t because of the adrenaline.

“This place is restricted to the public,” he muttered, flustered.

“Sure. How about we try the changing room, sweetheart?” Natasha muttered, loud (and suggestive) enough for the man’s awkwardness to grow tenfold and leave.

“What was that, man?”

“Nothing, just Mrs. Claus and her helper making out.”

It wasn’t long until you both returned to the first level of the mall. “Alright, this should be enough distance…” Natasha mutters, looking for any more tattooed men. Suddenly, an unusually soft, warm sensation process on her mind, looking down she can still see both your hands enterwined. You are looking to, but don't make any attempt to “fix” the situation.

“C’mon, let’s go inform Fury to bring in the team.” Immediately after that, you are pulling her along, Natasha’s face now fully complementing the same shade of her Mrs.Claus dress. If it was because of embarrassment or another feeling entirely she will not tell.

One thing she can say for sure. Perhaps this whole “christmassy operation” wasn’t bad after all.

***

—extra

(A FEW MOMENTS LATER, IN THE TOWER…)

”Great job, agents. I appreciate your work.” Fury hangs the calls, turning to the rest of the team. “Apparently, they found out actual activity of the smuggling. Have plenty of high ranked operators and shipment cargo.”

“Why the surprise?” Bruce questions, while Tony laughs.

”Shit, they actually did?” Everyone looks at him confused. “What? You guys don’t know?”

The room fills with puzzled looks as Steve exhales audibly in his chair. “This operation was merely a facade to orchestrate a charming little rendezvous between Natasha and Y/N. It’s rather remarkable they stumbled upon anything, considering the slim odds,” he elucidates nonchalantly.

”And Fury greenlit this?”

“I did. I’ve grown weary of witnessing Agent Romanoff’s infatuation with Y/N—it’s proving distracting. Even the junior agents are indulging in speculation about their eventual…get together. Sooner rather than later, I say,” Fury explains, shrugging indifferently.

“You did what?!” Natasha growled, practically kicking the door down.

Most people have never seen a single emotion on the director's face. But the ones who were there that day would forever remember the flash of fright that flashed in Nick Fury's good eye.

[kukvlkan]

namor + outfits