2. “You didn’t tell me you have a tattoo...or is it ‘classified’?” - Romantic Ironwidow - Halo (Beyoncé)
“You didn’t tell me you have a tattoo...or is it classified?” Was the last thing Natasha had expected to wake up to. Especially when it was accompanied by cold callused fingered tracing the circle behind her right here. It was nothing elaborate or obvious. Hell the white ink was damn near invisible on her skin. It was a wonder how Tony had seen it to begin with it. Clint didn’t even notice it. Or rather he still hasn’t. “Something like that that. Go to sleep.” Natasha mumbled and flipped onto her stomach cursing softly in Russian though her words came out barely audible and garbabled by the pillow. “Why’s it a third of a snow man?” Was the next question that broke the delectable silence and chased the coveted sleep further away. “It’s not. It’s a halo.” Natasha mumbled and tilted her face in the direction of her boyfriend. “Devil horns were formed by a broken halo.” She explained softly knowing she wouldn’t get any sleep until Tony’s curiosity had been fed. “Angles are more or less seen as these perfect things, but perfects a construct put on us by society. So we shouldn’t waste time trying to be someone else’s prefect angle when our own perspective of what perfection is should mean more.” She explained and opened a green eye to watch Tony’s face as he processed her words clearly caught of guard. “That’s deep for a spider.” He said with a small smirk and leaned in to kiss Natasha’s temple. “So you’re saying you’re your own prefect angle...but could be a devil for me?” He asked with the hardest hint of a smirk playing over his features. Natasha snorted and nodded her head once. “Only if you let me sleep.” She grumbled and closed her eye once again before burrowing further into the sheets in hopes of Tony getting the point.
they’re beautiful - petals strong, yellow center vibrant, as fresh as the day they were picked, she’s sure.
she doesn’t know how she deserves them.
but tony insists, places one in her hair and tucks it behind her ear, takes out his phone and snaps a picture that she threatens to kill him for because if clint sees there’s no letting this moment go. it just makes him laugh, and she smiles with him, small and close-lipped, but enough for another picture.
and perhaps tony gets them because of their beauty, but natasha knows what these flowers meant, once upon a time - more things she doesn’t deserve, but tony gives anyway.
World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved World Need That Tony Stark To Be Loved
the shores were always crowded this time of year. oceans, rivers, lakes, all of them stuffed to the brim with tourists and locals alike, assholes found on every boat and jet ski, filling the place with alcohol and rafts and dumb decisions.
but even summer vacationers get tired. once in a blue moon, there’s a lull, when the ones that hold the seasonal passes decide to take an off day.
and natasha has a gift, a very special talent, one that gets her the first drink at every gathering, a toast every so often, and incredible bragging rights for her (and tony, when he feels particularly blessed to be dating her).
see, when natasha wants to go out and have fun on her summer vacation – no one else does.
sometimes it’s the weather. a fear of rain on a day that turns out to be cloudless. humidity beyond belief vanishing as soon as her friends step out of the truck. flooding making the rivers unmanageable receding just in time. sometimes it’s the occasion, post-holiday when every group is already spent and sleeping in until the sun sets. but no matter the reason, it’s her thing, and her boyfriend loves it, and her friends relish in it, and she never has to work up the courage to go out on a day that doesn’t suit her.
so natasha picks a day. multiple, even, when she feels like testing fate. and with one message in their lovely group chat, somehow maintained even after they scattered across the state, the avengers (named much to steve’s chagrin after a particularly glorious revenge-filled football game) descend on the rivers, cool drinks in hand, rafting until they find themselves just tired enough that keeping themselves afloat is a struggle.
today is one of those days. the air is perfect, sun bright, but not too keen on destroying all skin exposed to it. the river is cold, and it’s a cleaner day, trash kept to a minimum, the last groups to arrive being particularly good about picking up waste, saving the environment one beer cooler at a time. steve, sam, bucky, bruce, thor, clint, tony, rhodey, carol, maria, the twins, scott, hope, hell… everyone brings their suits, and no one is lonely, third-wheeling, or left behind. the speed is an easy one, and her and tony are sharing a particularly big floatie when she manages to open an eye behind her sunglasses.
the eye closes again. “you’re staring,” she remarks mildly, but her smirk eases the remaining tension from tony’s shoulders. the raft seems to balance. “is there something on my face?”
“like anything would dare besmirch your face without your explicit permission,” he responds, and some air passes through her nose, a full laugh too much effort.
“what seems to be the problem, then?” she asks, brow raising, and when he doesn’t respond immediately, both eyes open again to fixate on him. she even lets her sunnies rest on her hair, carefully pinned back from her shoulders. he’s smiling now.
“tony? what are you -”
but before anything even close to anxiety can settle in her heart, he leans forward, and their lips meet. short, sweet, nothing more than a peck, but she’s speechless, blinking once at the sudden affection.
tony’s eyes are trained on her now, and she’s sure she heard the sound of a couple of cheap waterproof cameras snapping pictures, but her usual refusal to participate in candid photo taking is pushed to the back of her mind, along with every other worry. hidden behind the hand that’s now holding hers, sun-tanned, warm, the good kind of rough on the inside.
“just glad i can do that,” he whispers. it’s almost a secret, the way he barely breathes it. she’s still leaning forward, catching the sentiment and feeling something like joy make her toes curl.
“you know? i think i am, too,” she finally says, and when she leans forward again, the only thought she has is to flip off whatever camera’s pointing towards them.
