Does the man make the suit or does the suit make the man?
Sideblog. Indepdent RP. NSFW content not under readmores.
Natasha’s lips kicked up at the corner wryly when the elevator doors slid open with a near-silent hiss of sound, and the interior light spilled out into the lobby.
“You may proceed to the penthouse, Agent Romanoff. Will that be all?”
“Yes—thank you, Jarvis.”
There was no answer, but Natasha didn’t really expect one. She ducked into the elevator wordlessly, nodding acknowledgement to the incorporeal keeper of the Tower as the doors closed behind her. The penthouse button came to life on its own, glowing at the edge of Natasha’s vision as the carriage lifted away from the ground. Natasha leaned against the wall of the box carelessly, absently readjusting the sleeves of her cropped leather coat and shifting the weight of her duffel back idly until the soft ding told her she was on the right floor.
As did the sight beyond the opening elevator doors.
Natasha arched a single eyebrow at Tony as she stepped out of the lift, her gaze flicking from the billionaire to sweep the rest of the penthouse in a slow assessment, noting the lingering (and mostly empty) bottles littering the living room and bar, and touching upon the g-string bikini bottom only half-shoved down the side of the couch cushion — a visual match for the top half dangling so primly between Tony’s fingers.
Natasha’s lips quirked at the corner, an expression that wasn’t quite a smile so much as it was a barely-there touch of unsurprised amusement.
“Celebratory orgy, Stark?”
Tony’s eyes went from the top half of the bikini between his fingers to Natasha as she stepped in the penthouse and eyed her surroundings. If it had been anyone else Tony might have been more determined to clean the place up or order Dummy to do so but as soon it was Natasha it didn’t seem to be so much of a bother. She could be lighthearted in situations like these, anyone else may have just given Tony a lecture about his behavior and attitude towards work.
Did he have any meetings today? If he did it’d slipped his mind, or had Pepper cancelled them earlier when she’d attempt to wake up the hungover Billionaire? Whether or not he’d ordered JARVIS to make sure no one disturbed him that wouldn’t stop Pepper, or Natasha it seemed.
“Something like that, but I can’t for the life of me remember what I was celebrating.” Tony shrugged. “Sounds like a good night.”
Tony pulled the bottom piece of the bikini out from behind the couch and eyed both of them. Who’s were they? He didn’t linger on it for long and chucked the bikini to one side before he made he started to pick a few of the empty bottles up and set them down into one corner of the room.
“JARVIS, get Dummy to start cleaning this mess up.”
“Of course, Sir.” He loved his Bots he’d still use them to clean up after himself if he could get away with it.
Tony raised a hand to his head when the A.I.’s voice kicked in and he frowned, rubbing a hand over his face before he looked at Natasha.
“Did you want something, Romanoff? I got out of bed for this, it better be good.”
The orders came down from the Director. Executive decision, not open for discussion. While the rest of SHIELD was busy with the post-Manhattan incident clean-up in the wake of Thor and Loki’s departure, Natasha was being reassigned. Effective immediately.
The briefing packet was slim, actual hardcopy paperwork as opposed to a digital plate. The stamp across the top said sensitive in unnecessarily large lettering, followed thereunder by a smaller stamp in bold black that said simply, burn copy.
She barely batted an eyelash.
It took her fifteen minutes to read over the file, fifteen more to ensure it was thoroughly obliterated twice over in an incinerator. Thirty minutes to pack up the meager personal contents of her temporary quarters on the Helicarrier and an hour to arrange transport to the ground.
And exactly thirty-two minutes after landing, Natasha was crossing the dark and otherwise unmanned lobby of Stark Tower, a SHIELD standard-issue military style duffel bag slung over her shoulder as she headed for the private elevator that led up to the penthouse.
In the otherwise dark interior of the lobby, the keypad glowed a solid, professional blue-white, clearly online.
“Agent Romanoff.” The disembodied voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once, faultlessly polite, and at the same time, rebuking. “I have standing orders to inform any and all SHIELD personnel that Mr. Stark is unavailable and does not want to be disturbed for the rest of the week.”
Natasha found her lips kicking up at one corner, reluctantly. “Orders change, Jarvis. Do me a favor and let him know I’m here. And tell him I need to come up.” She inclined her head in the faintest of nods toward the keypad. “He can unlock the elevator. Or he won’t and I’ll get in some other way. The first one’s simpler for everyone, though. I’m not much in the mood to scale the party deck.”
If it was possible, the digitized voice almost sounded amused when Jarvis replied, “I will relay the message.”
Tony laid flat on his stomach and groaned into the pillow trying to nurse the hangover he’d brought on by the amount he’d been drinking the night before. As usual Pepper had come over and ‘taken out the trash’ as it were before she’d left him to complain and suffer alone. Shortly after Tony had informed JARVIS not to let anyone disturb him for the rest of the week, he felt like he’d need a week to recover. The older he got the longer he was left with a hangover and he fully intended on spending the entire day in bed.
When the A.I piped up Tony lifted his head and narrowed his eyes as if to glare at JARVIS before his head dropped back down onto the pillow. “Sir, Agent Romanoff is here to see you.” Tony’s eyes rolled and he turned over onto his back to sit up. “Well you can tell Agent Romanoff to shove her he-” “She’s insisting.” “Of course she is.” Pulling the covers back he stepped out of bed, raising a palm to his forehead taking one step towards the bathroom hesitantly before he turned in the direction of his wardrobe. “Unlock the elevator and send her up.”
“Very well, Sir.”
Tony mimicked the A.I.s voice quietly and grabbed a pair of pants throwing them over onto his bed followed by a sleeveless shirt before he head back into his bedroom and started to get himself changed quickly.
Once he was fully dressed and he’d spent at least twice as long checking himself out in the mirror he made his way out into the living area, a disgusted sound leaving him when his eyes fell onto the bar. A few empty bottles were still scattered around and his eyes dropped to a bikini top slung over the back of the couch. Eyes narrowed he walked over and picked it up holding it between two fingers only for his head to snap up when he heard the elevator doors slide open.
#You know I don’t think anyone has ever looked at this scene with shipper eyes #so let me make a failed attempt to do just that #Look at the first gif. Just look at it. If this ship isn’t obvious in that damn gif, I don’t know here it is. #She’s clearly worried. She wants him to come back, she doesn’t want to close the portal without making sure that he is able to come back. #She doesn’t want to lose Tony because she cares for him. And Natasha doesn’t care for many people but she manages to care for him. #It’s so obvious. Look at the second gif #Steve tells her to close the portal yet she waits. She has a desperate look in her eyes because deep down inside she knows he won’t make it #he won’t make it in time and she knows it and she only wishes she didn’t. #But she obeys to Steve because it’s the entire city of New York and millions of people that are at stake. So she closes the damn portal. #And Tony manages to fall down. He does it. He comes back. HE FUCKING MAKES IT. #And she can’t help but to let that mask that she always has fall and show her true colors. #She smiles and sighs in relief because she knows he’is safe. Tony’s safe and thank God he won’t die this time yet. She would feel guilty for the rest of her life he did, you know why? Because she was the one to close the portal. And it would be her fault if he didn’t come back. He would die because she closed the portal. #If this isn’t a ship I don’t know what the fuck is.