#dropdeadredheadromanova

[tonystark-boygenius]

@drop-dead-red-head-romanova

“What would you say if I told you I need you to break into the Dean’s office?”

[itsmariafreakinhill-blog]

@drop-dead-red-head-romanova liked for a De-Aged Maria

A little baby Maria sat on the steps in the SHIELD building. She had no idea where she was, and she was sobbing. Her tiny body was curled up into the corner, hoping she could disappear and go home.

[imjustthemechanic]

Target Acquired

@drop-dead-red-head-romanova

While the others fought off HYDRA goons upstairs, Iron Man and the Black Widow had punched, kicked, and blasted their way down to the subbasement of the base, where they’d hoped to find one of the secret weapons the organization was working on.  When Tony ripped the armored door off, however, all they found was a man-sized rock, split in half.  Inside it was a geode, with weird glowing white crystals.

“That looks like, I don’t know, something out of Avatar,” Tony said, coming for a closer look.  HYDRA was into some weird supernatural shit, but what on earth were they doing with this?

[websandredheads]

Calling all Widows

I see the Bucky Brigade out there and it is awesome, it’s full of fun and posetivity and I feel like there should be more of these forums out there. As I run a widow blog I simply can only speak for widows but our characters are diverse amazing people. Is anyone out there up for a widow’s web? Maybe even to extend it out to the women of marvel?

[captainspangly]

@drop-dead-red-head-romanova, The Cut and Run series by Madeline Urban and Abigail Roux. It was in the other picture. I got my copy off of Amazon.

[the-other-brooklyn-boy]

inspired by [x]

His new mission was very important, or so he had been told. The Soldier doubted it really would be; he rarely felt that anything they had him do was important. Or, not as important as they tried to make it out to be. He followed them through the Russian streets, though, not one to go against orders. He was a good asset. The best. He read the sign, frowning a bit: красный академия номере. Red Room Academy. A dance school. He pulled a face, earning a sharp jolt in the side from his handler and a reprimand in some language he had yet to learn.

They slipped into the building, a middle-aged woman greeting him. She led them through the building, down into a basement, with a smile that seemed anything but genuine. She prattled on wiht his handlers, but he paid them no mind. He was taking in every possible exit, entrance, or weapons. He did not turn his attention to them until they came into a room where someone else was already waiting.

A young girl, hair red as fire or the star on his arm. He stared, entranced by it. This was his new mission; train the girl. "Make her better." The woman instructed. "This one is promising. We want you to bring out her potential."

He would, he decided, zoning out after another moment as they no longered were talking to him. Her hair was so red. It looked soft. He wanted to touch it.

[the-other-brooklyn-boy]

from [x] with @drop-dead-red-head-romanova

Buck nodded, “It’ll be nice to stretch our legs.” He agreed, shifting in his seat and looking out the window. He hummed, a thoughtful little sound in the back of his throat. “Should be stopping in the next twenty minutes.”

[the-other-brooklyn-boy]

5 Times the Love

drop-dead-red-head-romanova​

5 times Bucky fell in love with Natasha

He first knew her as Natalia, the newest mission. “You are to train her. Make her better. Unbreakable.” He had nodded to his handler at the time, eyes flicking to the young woman just standing there. She had hair a bright shade of crimson, and it looked so soft. He briefly entertained the idea of running his fingers through it before snapping his attention back to the matter at hand.

Training. And if he did brush his hand through the locks once or twice, no one could blame him.

The first time she pinned him, he had to ignore the sudden wave of arousal. She was getting good. Better than him, possibly. She was quicker, more agile; she did not have a metal arm weighing her down. She was off of his back in an instant, panting some from exhaustion. They were going on the eighth hour of their current training session. She was leaning over, hands braced on her knees and dripping sweat.

“Again.” He ordered, rolling his shoulders and readying to spar.

The little glare she gave him, barely there, lit a fire in him that he did his best to ignore.

She began to throw things, to lose on purpose. So, as their respective handlers watched, he hit her. He beat her and yelled at her, scolded her for being sub-par. “You are better than this.” He scolded in Russian, quick and punctuated with another smack as he saw their spectators nod in approval.

Later, when they were alone, he held her close, nose pressed to her hair as he ran a tentative hand over all of the bruises. “I’m sorry.” He muttered over and over again. “I’m sorry.”

She gave a little nod, turning her head to catch his lips. “It’s fine.” She mumbled after the brief kiss. “It’s your job. It’s fine.”

But it was not, although he loved her for saying it was. She was so strong.

They found each other again, much later. He saw that fiery red hair, and just found himself moving to her. Like gravity pulling them together. Two opposing forces, attracted together.

He had a mission, though. The mission was his priority. And she was in the way of his mission. So he attacked her, and she fought back. She gave it everything, fighting like the little bear he had once known. And then, chasing her down, he saw her waving people away, running from him. She never ran. Never cared for anyone else.

Her selflessness... He loved it. But, he had a mission to do, and love was for children, she had once said. So he shot her.

Banner was good to her. He watched from a distance, noticed the subtle things. Watched them come together, slowly, cautiously. He watched her start to trust Bruce, and vice versa. He watched her start to love the man behind the monster.

And then he watched her fall apart.

It took a few months before he had the courage to approach her in her broken state, to risk being found by Steve and the rest of the Avengers. He slipped into the empty room she stood in, speaking softly in Russian. “I thought you said love was for children.” He noticed the tensing of her shoulders, and a barely perceptible change in her body language before she was attacking him, going at him with everything and nothing all at once. She was emotional. He mind was not clear, but she still took him down.

“You loved him, and he hurt you.” Bucky managed with her knee at his throat.

“He never laid a hand on me.” She snarled.

She was right. Bucky had hurt her, even for a job. Here, years away from that, deprogrammed enough to think for herself, she realized that it had been wrong, abusive. And he loved her for finally looking out for herself.