bakerstreet | The Domestic Meme

The Domestic Meme

RULES!
❧ Leave a comment with your character's name, fandom, and any preferences you have.
❧ When replying, RNG for a number between 1 and 15. The number corresponds to the scenario that you will play out in whatever way you want to.
❧ Go from there!

THE LIST!
01] baby
Suddenly, there's a new addition to your family! Are you expecting? Adopting? Struggling to find the perfect name for your child? Or maybe you're up at a ridiculous hour in the morning because they're crying like crazy.

02] just married
Congratulations! You and your loved (?) one are about to start a whole new life together! It's time for the honeymoon...

03] house hunting
Are you seeking out an apartment? A dream house? Or just any old place, as long as you're with your other? Make sure to weigh your options very carefully...

04] household chores
It's time to clean/cook/garden/take care of something! Do you work together, or does one of you hide until everything is done?

05] shopping
Whether it's for furniture, groceries, or something in between, shopping is something that everybody must do at some point in time! What varies is if they like it or not.

06] family vacation
WE'RE OFF TO DIDNEY WOOOOOOOOORL or wherever
... well, as long as the kids are happy, right...? You may not be happy (or maybe you are), but it's mainly about ~family bonding~.

07] romantic retreat
It's you and your loved one's anniversary, and you decide it's time to take some time off and take them somewhere nice, where you only have each other.

08] comfort
Is somebody sick in bed? Or perhaps they just had a bad day? Sometimes, a good breakfast in bed or a home-cooked meal can really lift the spirits! Or perhaps you want to try medicine, or laughter, or something else?

09] pet
Suddenly, you have another addition to the family! Is it a puppy? A kitty? A fierce dragon? Whatever it is, make sure to give it a name and to take good care of it!

10] holiday
Happy birthday/New Years/Christmas/Valentine's Day/whatever! It's a very special day that only comes once a year, so make it count!

11] argument
Oh, no, who left the stove on... Or maybe it's about why they were out late last night? Either way, there is a lot of tension today, and one of you may or may not be sleeping on the couch tonight.

12] making up
It's time to make amends for that fight/divorce/whatever you had before! After all, you love each other... right?

13] surprise, surprise
You are feeling rather loving tonight, so you want to remind the other person how much you cherish and appreciate them... if it's by something cute and adorable or hot and sexy is completely up to you.

14] proposal
~~SHUT UP THIS TOTALLY FITS~~ You've been with your other for what feels like forever, and finally you want to tie the knot with them. Will you go down on one knee before them, or get a little creative?

15] other
I know I'm forgetting like a bajillion and one different things here, so this is the option for that!

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Turning to grin at him as he made his list, Natasha set the block of cheese in the cart. “The water in your shower,” she continued for him, “Your bow and arrows...”

Okay, so maybe that one was a little true. She knew how much he loved that weapon, and just watching him at target practice was a thing of beauty. Then, of course, there was that glove he wore to shoot. There was just something incredibly sexy about that glove.

Stepping up on the end of the trolly, she leaned forward a bit and grasped the sides to keep her balance. “I thought you wanted some wine?” she questioned, though to be honest she was getting a bit impatient too. At this rate they might have to find somewhere secluded to pull off for a few minutes on the ride home. “Maybe we should just get the usual.”

"Oh yeah, you should certainly be jealous of the water, knowing the things it sees and does." He didn't even bring his bow up, because that was probably the one thing in his life she should really be jealous of. He'd die with that by his side, in his grip, and the glove well? most of the time he wore that just to see her reaction. A reaction he kept close to his heart.

He lent on his elbows, leaning closer with a smirk curling his lips. "The usual is normally some of your lethal paint stripper, I'm not sure my liver can take anymore of that." Clint laughed, reaching for her arm to pull her upright and closer meaning he could let the trolley glide along on it's own while he, well, slightly manhandled the red head.

By manhandling he was simply busying his hands on her hips. "Okay why don't you go grab a couple of bottles and I'll head to the cashier and start getting this rung up? Be quicker." His eyebrow raised innocently, his mind too busy remembering the drive down and whether there were any of those rubbish dirt roads they could utilize.

“Mm, well maybe tonight we should see if they water would be up for a threesome,” Natasha replied, and of course an older woman would walk by just in time to hear the last few words. Looking positively scandalized, the woman hurried on.

Now Natasha could have easily gotten out of Clint’s grip when he pulled her closer, they both knew that, but she let him get away with a little manhandling, a privilege only he could claim. With one hand on his chest she smiled up at him, seeing right through his innocent façade. “Alright. I will see you soon,” she agreed anyway, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before extricating herself from his arms. As much as she enjoyed being able to be like this with him in public, at this point if they didn’t get out of here soon they would probably end up getting thrown out and then they would just have to start all over elsewhere. It was better they have a few minutes apart.

Clint laughed, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure the water wouldn't complain, then again it might want me all for itself." He simply smirked at the old woman, shaking his head. "You're terrible, upsetting old women."

Clint's eyes floated down to her hand then back up to her eyes, smirking at the kiss. Damn it all he did around her was smirk or grin, he really needed to get a grip.

He watched her go, again, for a moment before he moved himself, heading towards the cashier and ending up next to the couple they'd performed in front of earlier. He gave the woman a half smile, starting to empty the cart and fumbling around in his pocket for his wallet. Moving to shove items into bags while he glanced up waiting for the shine of red hair to reappear. Unless she was lost. Naw.

Natasha perused the wine, a faint but genuine smile on her face as she did so. Had someone told her ten years ago that the Black Widow would be picking out wine for a dinner she was about to cook for her friends and the man who had managed to steal her heart, and that she would be smiling stupidly while doing so she would have laughed in their face... and then quite possibly done them some serious bodily harm.

She didn’t notice the man who was watching her at first, and it wasn’t until she had selected a third bottle of wine that he decided to make a move. Fortunately for him she was in a good mood and only shut him down with words; it was also fortunate for him that he had kept his hands to himself and hadn’t tried to press the issue. Grabbing a fourth bottle she headed for the checkouts, holding them up and smiling as she approached Clint.

“I think this should be enough for dinner, as well as anything we get up to afterwards,” she said. Steve, Bruce and Pepper she didn’t have to worry much about when it came to alcohol consumption, but Tony and Thor could certainly put it away.

While Natasha was having problems Clint was also having some of his own in the form of a very rosy cheeked cashier who kept smiling at him. Not that Clint cared, too busy throwing items into bags and waiting for her return.

It was when she did that Clint finally managed a proper smile, instead of just giving the cashier the odd glance. "Wow that's some wine selection." He took in each bottle in her hands, nodding his approval. "I have plans for after dinner, you know. They involve one of those bottles and cake, with whipped cream, and water." His eyebrows moved, the cashier just smiled and Clint had the urge to reach for Natasha and pull her close, just for the show of things.

Natasha took little notice of the cashier, her mind far too occupied with Clint’s words.

“Well as long as I am included in these plans then you can have first pick,” she said as she set the bottles down to be rung in. “Though I am not sure how well whipping cream will go with water.”

Her eyes sparkled merrily as she slipped past him, making sure to brush against him as she passed behind him to the end of the cash where she could gather up some of the bags.

"Oh the water is for after the whipped cream" Clint gave her a look, smiling to himself at the brush of her body against his as she moved past. She was actually going to be the death of him, it was obvious. If she didn't kill him with her games he'd certainly die flinging himself in front of her.

He pulled his card out after the cashier had rung up their shopping, gave it to the woman and looked back at Natasha. "You're always included in plans, they'd be no fun if you weren't involved." He punched in his card number, grabbed the receipts and finally reached to grab the heavier bags.

"I mean, I brought the whipped cream especially for you.."

“Oh, right,” Natasha replied, acting the part of the ditz for just a moment. “Whipped cream can make things all sticky and messy...”

Playing innocent, she took up the food bags and left the wine for him. As he paid for the groceries she noticed how the cashier was looking at him even if it appeared that now Clint had pretty much forgotten the girl’s existence upon Natasha’s return.

“Good answer. I will keep that in mind,” she said as they finally started for the exit. She couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. “Of course you did, though I have no doubt that you will enjoy it too.”

Okay, she couldn't fool him, he heard the amusement in her voice but she still got what he was saying so he made no move to say anything, simply grabbed the bags containing the wine and following her towards the exit.

"Oh I'll enjoy it, although I think you'll benefit from the cream more than me" Yeah he had ideas and a plan for that cream. There was no chance it would be used on the cake, nope, this was for their own personal benefit.

"Wear those jeans more often, they really show off your assets." He gave her wide innocent eyes as he passed her, fishing for the keys from his pocket.

“Is that so...” she said, throwing a look back over her shoulder at him. “I certainly look forward to discovering what you have planned.”

Heading across the parking lot, she raised her eyebrows at his comment but the innocent look he gave her just caused her to laugh.

“In that case maybe I will, though I suppose only when you are present as well?” she returned.

Clint laughed, popping the trunk of the car and carefully putting the bags of wine inside, looking over at her with a shrug. "When I'm in the vicinity, obviously." He took the bags from her, throwing them into the trunk and slamming it shut.

"I mean, I have to show you my appreciation, although most of the time I wish I was just peeling those jeans from your legs.. maybe you shouldn't wear them.. maybe pants are the devil." Clint grinned, heading to the drivers side and sliding inside, grabbing his shades from the dash and slipping them on.

"Come on, we're wasting valuable cooking time.." No, Clint was seriously thinking about finding that lay-by and utilizing it. Seriously.

Natasha smiled when he laughed, and even wider when he elaborated on what he really thought of her jeans. “So you’re saying you would rather I not wear pants at all?” she asked, moving around to the passenger side of the car. “That hardly sounds practical.”

Climbing into the seat beside him, Natasha placed her own sunglasses on over her eyes. “My, my, somebody is impatient. Getting a bit hungry?”

"Yes, I'm saying to never wear pants around me, they're distracting and take too much precious time to strip off, even if that is the fun part but beggars can't be choosers." He grinned at her as she slipped in beside him.

"Oh yeah, I wonder why I'm impatient when for the last half an hour all I've wanted to do is pin you on the nearest wall and make you writhe, as I said, you're distracting." Yeah his head really wasn't in the game at all.

Starting the car up he shook his head, repositioning himself in the seat and buckling up. "I'm not hungry for food, something else but not food." Cheesy Clint, real cheesy.

“But what if I am around you in a group, and there are other people present. Should I still not wear any pants?” Natasha replied, wiping the smile from her face and speaking in a purely inquisitive tone, as if this was a very important conversation and she needed to understand all the terms.

She was really getting to him, that much was obvious. His retorts were lacking their usual wit, and he actually outright admitted to wanting to do things to her that certainly weren’t appropriate in public places. It was more than a little amusing and very satisfying for Natasha.

Watching him buckle up, she did nothing of the sort, instead turning so that she was facing him, her back against the door. “And just what are you hungry for?” she practically purred.

"No you can wear pants in a group, I don't want other people ogling those legs of yours." Clint got jealous, madly jealous. He didn't need to get into that situation with her, didn't need to show her that side of him.

Yeah she could laugh it up but really she didn't have the problem in her pants that he had, it wasn't nice. Having to curb how he felt, all that pent up lust, it wasn't healthy for him, obviously.

"Tasha, can you not? I need to get us home, I'd rather it be in one piece." He glanced at her, smile tugging the corners of his lips even though he was trying to be commanding and stop her teasing. "Unless you're going to climb over here and give me something I'd rather you just buckle up and let me drive."

He was watching her carefully through his shades, revving the engine with a heavy foot. "So what's it gonna be? You can make use of my lap or leave this until we get back, dinner might have to wait."

“Well, I am glad we cleared that up. I will keep that in mind,” she replied. Although the conversation was all in good fun, she had an inkling that there was some truth to it as well. She knew he got jealous, but as she had never really given him a reason to be beyond what a mission might entail she had never actually seen him express it too harshly. She didn’t surprise easily, but seeing that side of him might actually surprise her.

She was back to looking innocently at him, maybe even a little rebuffed when he looked at her, but she could see that smile playing on his lips and his invitation only made her smile back. Then she turned in her seat as if she were about to buckle up and leave him alone.

Not likely.

“I wouldn’t want to make everyone wait for dinner,” she said after a moment before looking over at him again. “But I guess it all depends on how good you are at driving with a distraction.”

The difference between his jealousy happened to be quite a broad line. While she was working he had no right to be jealous, and most of the time he was too far into the game to care as she seduced and gave people intimate promises. It was a job, it what how she got the job done, it worked, the dynamic didn't need changing and therefor he didn't care.

Outside of work well, he figured he was allowed to get a little bit jealous.

It took a lot for his jaw not to drop, or for his eyebrows to shoot up and crease his forehead. Instead he simply squeezed fingers around the steering wheel until his knuckles threatened to turn white and pursed his lips. "You know it takes a lot to distract me from a goal."

Of course her idea of distraction might just do it and he was well aware she'd be able to tell by the fact his voice had dropped an octave lower and he was finding it hard not to jiggle his leg up and down in what, some sort of sick anticipation maybe.

"Just give me, ahh, a heads up first yeah?" Poor choice of words Clint.

Natasha noticed the changes in his body language; it didn’t take the knowledge she’d gained of him over the years to pick up on it, especially when he spoke, his voice much lower than before. Her smile in return was almost predatory.

Letting the seatbelt go, she turned in her seat again and got onto her knees, facing him. Placing her hands on the console between them she shifted her weight on them so she could lean forward and kiss him softly on the cheek, very chaste in contrast to what she had in mind.

“I think you already have your heads up,” she purred in his ear, moving her hand to his chest and slowly moving it downwards... until moving completely to grip the gearshift instead. “But we’re still not moving and we’ll never get home at this rate.”

He was a dead man, easily. He didn't watch her move, didn't want to see that look in her eyes because damn it, that look drove him insane and he did not need to have the image of her on her knees in his car in his mind when he had to focus on driving.

Too bad for Clint the image was already there without her even prompting it. Damn woman.

The purr was nearly too much, her fingers leaving lines of heat along his damn clothes, she certainly earned her name sake. "Jesus Tasha, can you, just, stop."

He kept his eyes focused on the cars in front, not daring to look at her for fear that his own lack of restraint would become all too apparent considering he was ready to un-do the seat belt and launch himself across the console. No. Driving, yes.

His hand found her on the gearstick, lightly moving it into reverse and yeah, they were moving and everything would be fine, he did keep one of her hands trapped under his though, if she wanted to play games he could play them too. Kind of. Okay no, he'd always loose to her.

Natasha tried to move her hand but he had it held firmly against the gearshift. Of course she could have freed herself if she really wanted to, but instead she leaned back and pouted slightly at him. All just a game, all just an act like so much of her was, though usually not with him, not seriously. Clint was the one person she could truly relax around and be herself with because he knew who she was, knew the things she had done, and cared for her anyway. But sometimes a little game was still fun.

“I thought you wanted me to help you out?” she asked. “To... how did you put it?” She furrowed her brow a moment. “Make use of your lap? Or was that only in the parking lot where everyone could see us?”

No, that pout will not work Natasha. It was all games really, kidding themselves into believing they could have any kind of normal lifestyle outside of work. That was just a brilliant game, one Clint enjoyed, pretending, making things up, being with her not covered in someones elses blood and debris.

"I thought you liked a bit of exhibitionism? I'd prefer to keep the four wheels on the road and get us home in one piece, although if you spot a dirt road let me know." He tilted his head only slightly, thinking better of it (hey he was a good driver okay) and instead squeezed her hand lightly, guiding it from gear to gear. "My lap does miss you though..."

They were the best games, the ones she got to play with him, the ones they got to play together where they could be the people they would never be, live the lives they would never live. Even if they could quit now, even if they left their jobs behind, they could never be those people, they could never be normal; it wasn’t in their blood, blood was in their blood. Normal lives would bore them after the newness wore off.

“Not in a place I’d like to come back to,” Natasha replied. Sitting back on her heels, she rested the elbow of her free arm on the console and propped her chin in her hand. In all honesty she didn’t really like exhibitionism much since her job entailed so much of it at times. Teasing Clint was one thing, but actually following through with anything where anyone could see them was not something that she really wanted to partake in. What they had was real, it was special, and she didn’t want to sully that.

“I can see that,” she said, letting her eyes fall to his lap. “A late dinner is sounding better by the minute, just not too late. I don’t wanna share you tonight.” Averting her gaze to their hands on the gearshift, she smiled a little, soft and simple instead of the sultry ones she had been inclined to so far.

Clint wasn't sure if a normal life would bore him, he guessed it would be slow, but there wouldn't always be that risk that your life could be cut short. No, he was far too dedicated to cut himself off, not unless he had severe backing from Natasha and he believed she felt the same way.

He smiled, taking a glance at her quickly then shifted eyes back to the road. She wasn't buckled in, usually he'd stop the damn car and make her put the seat belt on, but screw it right? He was kind of enjoying this attention anyway.

"Don't start teasing me again otherwise I'm pulling over and then dinner will be really late." She didn't want to share? Now that was a surprise. "Oh, feeling like being greedy huh? You should know by now you don't share me with anybody, I'm completely yours for as long as you want me."

He pursed lips, alright that escalated quickly. Oh well, he'd grin and play it off. No need to get all serious and heavy on her.

Laughing at his warning, Natasha decided to finally give him a break. There would be plenty of time for both the teasing and the follow through tonight and in the morning before she had to leave.

Watching his profile as he drove, his gaze fixed intently on the road before them, her brow pinched slightly in surprise at his words. He tried to play it off but she knew him too well, and even if she didn’t she was far too good at reading people. It was not said along the same joking lines the rest of their conversation had been, but then neither had her statement even if he’d taken it that way.

Looking over at their hands again Natasha considered her answer. She could just as easily brush it off as he had attempted to do, but this was the last she was going to see of him for at least four months and for some reason that fact made her want to be honest, made her want to be real, before she had to hide that part of herself way again and take on another persona.

“And if I said ‘always’?” she ventured softly.

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