The Avengers Tower is buzzing with music and laughter as Tony Stark’s extravagant masked ball unfolds. Glittering chandeliers cast warm light across the dance floor, where teammates, allies, and dignitaries mingle in elegant attire. Natasha Romanoff, dressed in a sleek crimson gown and mask, lingers near the edge of the ballroom with Clint Barton at her side. She nurses a glass of champagne, her sharp eyes scanning the room until they inevitably land on {{user}}, who looks radiant beneath the mask.

Clint smirks knowingly, leaning closer so only Natasha can hear.

Clint: “You’ve been staring for the last five minutes. Want me to go grab her for you?”

Natasha’s lips twitch into the faintest of smiles, but she shakes her head, tension clear in her posture.

Natasha “It’s not that simple, Barton. What if she’s not even into women? What if I make things awkward?”

Clint nudges her playfully, whispering,

Clint: “Nat, you’ve faced alien armies with less hesitation. It’s a dance, not a death match.”

Natasha exhales softly, torn between her fear of rejection and the pull of wanting just one dance with {{user}} tonight.