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The lid of the trash closes with a rancid puff of air and an uplifting sense of finality. With a grimace, you wipe your hands off your jeans and head back in. It’s been a productive Sunday; you did all the house chores you’ve put off for three weeks, and now that everything’s done, you can finally rest.
Yawning, you head to the bathroom to toss your jeans in the laundry basket and wash your hands.
You open the door. Stop.
Nat sits on the lid of the toilet in only shorts and a sports bra, winding gauze around her arm. She gives you a passing glance. Folds the gauze over and attempts to tie it with one hand.
“You need help?” you finally ask, wrangling your leg out of your pants.
Nat gives up with a huff and drops her arm, waiting for you to wash your hands. “You finished all your chores?”
You give her a wry look in the mirror. “There’s a reason you decided to break in after I took the trash out.”
“First of all, you gave me a key. Secondly, why would I spy on my own girlfriend just to get out of housework? Thirdly,” she says with a grin and then reaches out to give your ass a quick pinch, “I think this should be a no-pants household forever.”
You try your best to frown disapprovingly at her, but you end up with a silly grin on your face anyway. “Are you ever not horny?”
“I wasn’t very horny earlier today when an asshole stabbed me in the back. Literally.” She gives you a handsome smirk, head tilted back and everything, and thrusts her arm out so you can finish dressing her wound. “Besides, you like it when I treat you like shit.”
You just shake your head, not willing to concede to that point so readily.
“Want a reward for being a good girl?” she coos in that sickeningly sweet tone of hers. Teasing. Not going to follow through. So, in your mental calculation, not worth entertaining.
“I could totally reopen your wounds right now,” you tell her, tugging the gauze pointedly.
“Then how will mommy treat you right, hm?”
You ignore her. Instead, you poke at her shoulder until she leans back with a hiss, so you can take a look at her stomach.
“At least give a girl a kiss before you ignore her and start digging your fingers into her open wounds,” Nat says, pouting.
“Eat shit.”
“Honey, you kiss your mommy with that mouth?” Nat fakes a gasp, very conveniently timed for when you take an alcohol swab to her scrape. Poser. “Oh, wait- you sure do.”
“Mommy, who’s taking care of whom right now?” you ask, sardonic.
Nat laughs. “My little baby wants to give topping a go?”
“As if you’re in any state to fuck right now.”
“You don’t know me.”
You stick a bandaid on her cut and stand up. “Kisses for the stranger.”
She leans up with a fond smile as you press down, meeting in the middle. There’s a faint trace of alcohol in her mouth, but her tolerance is insane, so you’re not worried about it. Her tongue licks into your mouth, and you make a pleased hum. Then, she withdraws despite your whine and gives your lip a playful nip.
When she pulls back fully, there’s a faint touch of red in her cheeks. You touch your fingertips to the scab on her forehead.
“Surely you Avengers have actual medical professionals to stitch you up.” You help her off the toilet, tugging her out of the bathroom by the hand.
She flips the light off on the way out. “I liked the idea of you being my cute little nurse.”
“That’s new,” you say as you cuddle up to her on your couch.
Contrary to what she says, you do know Nat. Well enough, in fact, to figure she doesn’t have the energy to fuck you well and good right now. Maybe tomorrow. What she needs right now is Netflix and the opportunity to make you grouchy and flustered, and needy. Predictable, your Nat. Utterly in love with you. On the flip side, you are similarly taken with that pain in the ass control-freak.
“Wanna order in?”
Nat shoves you over, so you lie flat on your back and drapes herself over you. “Mhm,” she says into your shoulder.
You tangle a hand in her hair, turning the TV on. “Pizza or something?”
“Yeah,” she grunts. “Later, though. Hey. Want to get married?”
You scrunch your eyebrows up, pulling her head up to look her in the eye. She stares back, emotionless. You think about it. Then: “…no?”
She rolls her eyes. “Just floating the idea. Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’d be post-orgasm five times over before I pop the question for real.”
“Oh, then sure. I’m a sucker for romance.”
Nat snorts, flopping back onto your shoulder. The show starts playing, and you smile, content in your home with your girlfriend in your arms.
“Like, what?” You stroke her back, thinking aloud. “You’d fill up your cock with cum and drop the ring in there too?”
“I’m thinking I’ll hide it in my vagina so it’ll slip right on when you’re fingering me.”
“You’d trick me into marriage, is what you’re saying.”
“You tricked me into dating you, so it’s only fair.”
You scoff. “How exactly did I do that?”
She runs her hand up your front, walking her fingers along your collarbone. Almost dainty in her movements. “Well, you looked so pretty, so fuckable. Really looked like you needed someone to ruin you. How is that my fault?”
“Big talk for a lazy cunt.”
“Big talk for someone who’s going to get it tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re going to cry so hard, all fucked out.”
You let out a laugh. “I believe you.”
“Of course, baby, my word is law.” She pats your cheek and then grips your jaw to twist your head towards the TV. “Now shut up. I killed a man to catch this episode.”
You tighten your arm around her middle and settle in for the night. You’re a law-abiding citizen, after all.