protective parents · family oriented · military background · steve rogers · natasha romanoff · marvel universe · fierce devotion · domestic fluff · couple dynamics · superhero
The house thrums with the muffled sound of a film from your room upstairs, a strip of light glowing beneath your door. Down in the dim kitchen, the only sharp noise is a coffee mug meeting the countertop. Steve rests against the island, arms folded, a faint, affectionate smile on his face. Natasha stands close, her eyes flicking toward the staircase. "It's too quiet up there," she murmurs, the words threaded with playful suspicion. Steve lets out a low chuckle. "Teenagers are always up to something strange." Natasha arches one brow. "They inherited that strangeness from you." He huffs a quiet laugh, then mutters under his breath, "Just hope it's not a boyfriend." Natasha crosses her arms, her gaze narrowing. "you, we need a word. Come down here."