natasha romanoff one shots

make up

"Y/N. Get your ass out of bed. Stark invited us to one of those parties he only throws to get drunk and boast about his Iron Man suits and I am sure as hell not going alone." Nat called into my room from the doorway. I didn't even try to disguise the mixture of dread and disappointment and I let out a groan of despair. These parties were the opposite of what I called fun. Don't get me wrong, the atmosphere can be great, but a room with a bunch of people I have never met, with no escape routes, and many, many drunk men was not my perfect evening. Besides, I was indescribably bad at making myself look good enough to fit in with the crowd which consisted of rich people, stunning people or more commonly: rich, stunning people. I was neither rich, nor stunning in my opinion, so getting dressed up for this whole ordeal was making me, to put it simply, stressed as fuck.

Nat, at this point, had left me to get changed. We were close but she respected my privacy so went on to get ready herself. I hauled myself out of bed and caught a glimpse of myself in the tall mirror in the corner of my room. Oh. No. By the looks of the knotted messy bun on my head, the large pimple beginning to appear under my eye and the mismatched outfit, this was going to be a long, long night. Where should I even start? This was going to be something along the lines of a military operation. 

Step one: shower. Simple enough. I conditioned my hair to get rid of the increasing tangles and washed my body. Done. Now to let it air dry slightly whilst I picked an outfit. Outfits were one of the only things I was good at prior to a night out. I picked a satin dress reaching up to my mid-thigh, the viridian colour complementing my eyes and hair colour perfectly. Outfit picked. Not as hard as I thought. This is going well. 

With the outfit picked, I used the blow-dryer to dry out the rest of my hair, before curling it into neat, uniform ringlets which bounced slightly as I walked. Hair: done. This was going so much smoother than usual. 

Now for the makeup. I looked down at the array of eyeshadows, eyeliners, lipliners, lipsticks, contour sticks, bronzers, highlighters. Ah - this was the tricky part. Scratch that. This was the impossible part. I'm sorry but, I'm an avenger, I hardly had the time to practice getting a perfect makeup look. I sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the large mirror that I caught my reflection in earlier. 

Cut to twenty minutes later, my skin was slightly red from the constant application and removal of make up. My repetitive attempts coming to no avail. Frustration bubbled in me now, with only 20 more minutes until Tony expected us to make our appearance, I was going to turn up looking like a beetroot crossed with a panda. The noise I let out was unattractive to say the least. It was a cross between a grunt and a cry and a scream, as I threw my hands up in the air and lay backwards onto the carpet. 

"You okay there?" Natasha stood in the doorway of my room, smirk lining her face as she leant against the frame. I didn't fail to notice the tight black dress hugging her figure. Her makeup was flawless. Her eyeliner was smooth unlike my failed attempts and her lips, well her lips looked amazing in that shade of lipstick.

"No." I grumbled from my position on the floor, not quite meeting her eyes. 

"What's up?" That smirk just did not give in.

"How is it fair that you can do makeup that well and I can't even put mascara on to save my life?" This time I did meet her gaze. She could tell I was hiding the frustration behind the jokes so she approached me quietly. I sat up as she got closer and she sat next to me - also cross-legged. Natasha's delicately strong hands grabbed both my knees and swivelled me to a position where I was directly facing her. She picked up a small bottle from the mess of products in front of me and pumped a little onto her hand. 

"Foundation." Nat informed, dipping her fingers in the product and placing a blob on my forehead, both cheeks, nose and chin. "Some people use a makeup brush but I just use my hands to get a more even cover. May I?" She asked respectfully. I just hummed and nodded in response. Her hands glided elegantly across my face, grazing my cheekbones and across my chin. Only now did I realise how close our faces had gotten. I could feel her breath warming my skin. With this distraction, I didn't notice Nat had picked up another product from the pile. 

"Concealer." She kept giving her running commentary, much to my enjoyment.  

"Bronzer." She was gradually going down the list, effortlessly transforming my face. As she contoured my face, her hands kept lightly grabbing my chin to move my face to the direction she wanted it, usually hooking one finger around to do so. I daren't move or speak in fear of breaking her flow, so I just watched - mesmerised - at what she was achieving. 

"Okay. Now we're moving onto eyes. What I'm about to ask you to do might seem weird, and you don't have to do it if you don't want to, but you're less likely to move this way," she told me and to this I just hummed, wondering what she was going to ask, "Could you lie back for me?"

Without a word, I lay back. Suddenly, Nat was straddling my waist, using one hand to steady herself whilst the other held a brush with some eyeshadow on. I completely forgot I was staring at her until she asked me to close my eyes. Embarrassed, but mainly flustered, I let my eyes flicker shut as a blush heated my face. I couldn't see Nat anymore, but even the feeling of her thighs either side of my stomach, and her hand lightly resting on my shoulder, and the other hands skating gracefully across my eyelids, made me swoon. Occasionally her hand would brush my cheek slightly and I would blush even more. Thank goodness the face makeup would conceal some of the redness on my cheeks. 

The eyeliner, the most tricky part, was completed so elegantly and easily I thought it was a miracle. In one swift flick on each eye it was done. I gazed up at her in awe.

"Blink. Blink. Blink." She was instructing me as she applied mascara. "And done." Natasha smiled down at me, proud of her handy work.

"Thank you." I replied sincerely, so grateful for all she had done for me.

"Oh wait," she started before I could move from my position underneath her, "Eyelash." Her thumb brushed away the stray eyelash lightly - careful not to smudge any of the makeup. That movement alone made me shiver just the tiniest bit. "Hey, make a wish." Nat said as I blew it off her thumb and it fluttered away somewhere. 

God I wish she would just kiss me already.

Before I could think anymore, Nat leant down slowly, cupping my face as she did. The kiss was delicate. Soft. Wholly mesmerising. Her thumb just caressed my face delicately and I smiled into the kiss. Her free hand found its way to the nape of my neck, pulling me in closer to her mouth and supporting me as she did so. It was over far too quickly as she moved back upwards, her hands both now resting upon my shoulders. 

"Now get up and go get dressed loser." She demanded. I pouted, wanting more kissing and less partying. "We can carry this on later, my love." She continued as if she read my mind. I attempted to pull her down for one last peck but she moved away too quickly for me. 

"Dressed. Now." She called as sauntered out the room. That woman really had a way with words, didn't she?