Thor: Ragnarok - The Avengers: Infinity War - The Avengers: Endgame
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Tony stark gave his life so we could make something of ours.
*EDITING SPRING OF 2023*
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"Chill out," Natasha scolded, "It's just a small party. You defeated the Goddess of Death, went to South America by yourself and you're worried about this of all things?"
"Small party?!" I exclaimed, "It's only the second most important party of the year. Literally every important S.H.I.E.L.D agent is going to be there."
"You're just nervous because you want to look good for you super hero boyfriend." Natasha teased as she ran a brush through my hair.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't deny the blush that crept on my cheeks. I stuck both fake eyelashes onto my lash line and applied a thin layer of shimmery lip gloss to my lips.
"He's not my boyfriend," I said, "Don't look at me like that! Besides, I don't even know if he's coming."
Natasha smiled knowingly, but didn't say anything after that. She instead curled my hair and lightly sprayed it with hair spray to make sure it would stay in place, before quickly doing her own hair and make up while the dark red nail polish she'd used to paint my nails dried.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel nervous. The dress Natasha had picked out for me was something I would never have chosen for myself, let alone worn outside. I felt oddly naked inside this piece of clothing that revealed most of my left leg, my arms, my shoulders and part of my chest.
"How old is he, anyway?" I asked Natasha, who was now working on her own hair.
"I have no idea. I don't think Stark particularly likes to talk about his age," She mused, "Did you get him a gift?"
"Are you kidding?" I shook my head, "What on earth do you give a man who can buy anything he desires? Besides, I think he'd rather not get a gift than get something shitty and Tony seems pretty hard to please."
"Good, he hates getting gifts. I've learned my lesson. Does this look good?"
Natasha gave me a twirl. The long, body tight black dress she wore hugged every one of her curves. She was in my opinion, the definition of femininity. The light, shimmery eye shadow and thin layer of eyeliner she wore accentuated the blue in her eyes. I don't think she was wearing any foundation but by the Gods, she didn't need any.
She wore black pumps with red bottoms that we'd gone out to get the day before - I thought they were beautiful, but refused to spend 1200 dollars on shoes - and her lips were coated in a thin layer of red lipstick.
We headed up to the penthouse after several layers of sweet, sticky perfume had been sprayed on our skin. I tried my hardest to keep my nerves under control, pressing my nails into the palm of my hand to keep myself grounded. I hadn't worn heels in ages, the last time had been when I stole a pair from Macy's when I was fourteen and just the thought of tripping over my own feet made me nauseous.
