This will be a primarily Natasha Romanoff oneshot book, but I'll sprinkle in some Scarlett Johansson ones as well. SJ stories will be labeled with her initials.
It will be female reader.
Started 10.14.2021
Ended TBA
It will be updated as frequently...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Scarlett spoke with conviction besides you about the strong social implications made in the movie you two had just finished seeing.
Barbie—Starring Margot Robbie, Directed by Greta Gerwig, and adored by countless women.
You'd tried to listen to your girlfriend, to pay attention to the very real topic at hand, but the movie theater cocktail—because that's a thing now—had actually gotten to you. If your lover wasn't so enamored by the movie, she would've smugly teased you for being such a lightweight.
It was only as she shifted to face you after putting the car in park that she began to see.
"What did you think of the movie?" She'd asked, only to regret ever opening her mouth.
"It was very interesting Scarly," you sung, "But there's just something really bothering me."
Scarlett dropped her hand to your thigh in a comforting gesture and chuckled, "Yeah?"
She'd naively hoped it was about the realistic patriarchal system we live under, but it wasn't.
You nodded and narrowed your eyes to insinuate just how perturbed you were. "There's a massive plot hole in the script!"
Scarlett hummed, nodding her head for you to continue as she tried to suppress her growing smirk so as to not upset or distract you further.
"Yeah! The casting directors are idiots!" You seethed, hints of a bitter strawberry wafted beneath her nose and she cringed at just how intense the smell of alcohol was. She wondered how they could legally sell that strong of booze.
"How could they claim to be able to see when they didn't even cast you in it, it's an outrage! You could've been business barbie, with that short, sexy side swooped hair of yours wearing a grey pinstriped suit holding a briefcase."
"That sounds like Mafia barbie," she teased, and you pouted. "I'm serious Scarlett Ingrid Johansson! You are meant to be a Barbie!"
"I think all the ladies did a wonderful job my love, plus my schedule was busy anyways, and I am content with being your personal barbie."
"No silly, nobody owns anybody in Barbieland! You could be nurse barbie, and I'll be beach so that you could resuscitate me with your lips."
Scarlett took advantage of your suggestion and shamelessly pecked your lips and you beamed, "Exactly! See, you're perfect for the role."
"That's because those lips were made for me," the actress leaned in again, holding the kiss for much longer and bringing a sensuality to the moment as she cherished the taste of you. As she pulled away with a heavy sigh, and wide smile she felt content with the moment. The way you brought so much joy and love to her life was such a beautiful thing. You entered her life just as she'd sworn love off and reminded her just why she'd been a hopeless romantic.
