rodrikstark's headcanons (part 2)

n. romanoff + helping you do your makeup

"stop moving."

you steel yourself against natasha's vicious attacks to your face—a soft, round brush sweeping across your cheek.

"stop tickling me," you say through gritted teeth.

"you could have done this yourself, but you just had to use your fists instead of your brain."

"these?" grinning, you make those two fists and hold them together in front of your face, temporarily blocking natasha's efforts.

you were pretty strong, but that didn't mean you had accelerated healing. unfortunately, after punching some jaws with your bare knuckles a few days ago, your hands needed to be wrapped up to prevent swelling.

"stop," she complains, splitting your arms apart.

"what? they're probably healed by now." you would've taken the bandages off already, if natasha hadn't insisted otherwise.

she clicks her tongue, one of her slender fingers tracing over your hands. "i should put concealer over these bruises too." she twists in your lap, reaching for a pocket knife in her bag.

"baby's first undercover mission," you mumble. an attempt to say out loud what natasha must be thinking, as she preps you to play the part of some rich mogul tonight.

natasha begins tearing away the wrapping, ignoring your fond gaze. "you're not a baby."

"but i'm your baby."

she glances up once. "just promise me you'll use your brain this time."

you nod, watching her work, flexing your hands once she frees them, letting her carefully paint makeup on your fingers.