ada wong’s girl

꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ using her to blot your lipstick . . . natasha romanoff x fem!reader, fluff

You're sitting on the bathroom counter, carefully dragging lipstick across your lips. It's a rare night when the two of you can relax and doll up for a fancy dinner.

Well, you doll up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Nat strapping a gun to her thigh, just above the slit in her dress. It's simple and sleek, the complete opposite of your look. You prefer going all out, layering colors and textures until everything looks like you've stepped out of a Fancy Nancy book.

Glancing back at your reflection, you study your lips. The deep red is too bold. It throws the whole look off.

"Nat—"

"No. We're going to be late," she cuts you off, stepping into her heels.

You pout. "You don't even know what I was gonna say."

Natasha eyes you in the mirror. Then she straightens and stalks over, heels clicking against the floor.

"You were going to ask if the lipstick is too bold." She steps between your legs, fingers tilting your chin up. "It's not."

"It is."

"Baby."

shoot it

★. dinah lance x gn!reader; playing pool with her.

#. fluff. main masterlist.

You’re leaning over the table, your grip tight on the cue as your girlfriend angles it lower, inches away from touching the cue ball.

“We need a strong shot, baby.” Dinah’s voice is low in your ear, somehow grounding you. Giving your hips a little squeeze, she steps back, trusting you way too much.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna shoot?” You glance at her over your shoulder, curls pooling on the table. “I think I’ll miss it.”

“It’s just a game, you don’t have to worry so much about it.” She takes a sip of her beer, shrugging lazily.

as always im so in love with your writing and how easily you bring so much depth and life to the worlds you construct for us :'0 like the details littered throughout this ugh im obsessed!!! i love how supportive and kind and insanely loving she is in this losing game, like the world and the rules in which form its structures don't apply to dinah and the reader, especially when they're not together:

“I did it!” You let go of the cue, arms out and a childlike joy spreads across your face. You see the proud smile on her lips, and pocketing that 8-ball suddenly becomes the most important achievement of your life. Dinah wraps her arms around you, whispering congratulations, her smooth voice telling you how she’s going to spoil you rotten with the money — ignoring the rolling cue ball that follows the black one into the pocket, sealing your defeat.

like ugh these two closing paragraphs are so perfect because it solidifies that notion that dinah and the reader's love and kindness for and towards one another physically feels exempt from the rules of the world; just looking at how the rules of a game of pool played competitively sort of become a microcosm for that larger reflection, the reader's ability to pocket the 8-ball is all they're able to care about and celebrate, while ignoring and missing the cue ball's follow into the pocket not long after. like yea they technically lost the game and the money, but the reader and dinah are so caught up on one another that this loss means nothing; in fact, they're walking away winners bc they're in each other's embrace and there's whispers exchanged and smiles on each other's intoxicating lips—that in itself is worth more than any price!!!!!