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The party was overcrowded. Every inch of space was filled with sweaty bodies, pressing together. Music pounded overhead and thumped through the floor, sending vibrations of obscure rhythms up your spine. You found that the only place to escape the claustrophobic atmosphere was at the bar. Because everyone had some strange obsession with dancing, they always took their drinks from the bar and onto the dance floor (this seemed pointless. They’d only succeed in spilling it everywhere and then they’d have to come all the way back for another).
You slid onto one of the stools at the bar and leaned on the counter. The bartender glanced at you curiously, and you gave her an easy smile. She was tall, and dressed in a tight-fitting black suit. Her dark hair was short, cropped on both sides and longer on the top, gelled smoothly to the left, and she had maybe eight rings adorning her fingers.
“Gin and tonic, please,” you shouted over the music. She gave you a nod and began creating the drink. You furrowed your brow when it crossed your mind you didn’t actually know her. Usually, Tony had Natasha bartend, or he’d hire the same two guys- Jack and Brandon. But you’d never seen this girl before.
“Is this your first time here?” you asked, relief flooding through you as the music changed to a slower and more sensual song, allowing you to talk to her without shouting. The bartender nodded as she slid you your drink before she leaned on the counter.
“Mhmm, it was a last-minute gig. Stark said that someone had bailed on him- Jace, or Jordan, or… something,” she said. Her voice was deep and scratchy. You smiled and nodded.
“Must’ve been Jack. He has a wife and kids, so he’s pretty busy,” you replied. She smirked at you.
“Do you come here often?” she asked, “You seem to know your bartenders well enough.” You shrugged, sipping your drink. Damn, she made this one strong as fuck, you thought as the liquid burned all the way down your throat and warmed your stomach.
“Yeah, I live here,” you said casually. Her eyebrows rose.
“You an Avenger?” she asked, and you shrugged again with a smile.
“I might be. What’s it to you?” you said with a grin, taking another swig of your drink.
“Oh, you know,” she hesitated, but then leaned forward slightly, “I like dangerous women.” You only smiled easily at the flirtatious remark, and your mind drifted to a certain redhead. She’s the dangerous one, you thought to yourself, and your lips tilted slightly, deepening your grin.
“Do you?” you asked, twisting slightly so that you were no longer facing her full on. She nodded and hummed.
“My name’s Raven. Are you busy later tonight?” she asked. You almost laughed. Oh, if she could only see this, you thought. But just as you were about to let her down easy, a pair of arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close, your hips rocking backward to press firmly against the person behind you. The subtle smell of cherry cordial, incense, and leather drifted through your nose, blanketing your senses and leaving your heart pounding. Scarlet hair tickled your neck as she leaned over you slightly, her chest pressing against your back.
“I’m sure she would love to join you, Raven, but I’m afraid she has other plans,” Natasha answered for you. Raven raised her brows slightly, and you wanted to tell her to stop now while she was ahead. But another part of you wanted to see exactly what your girlfriend would do..
“Yeah?” Raven asked, straightening her spine, “And how do you know that? You didn’t give her the chance to answer.” Your eyes widened a fraction of an inch. Oh, she’s going there, you thought. From the corner of your eye, you caught the cold smile that spread dangerously across Natasha’s face.
“Well, then why don’t you tell her, my love?” Natasha said, rotating the barstool so that her face was close to yours. One of her hands moved to grab you gently by the chin and tilt your head up at her. You swallowed.
“I-” you glanced at Raven, whose face had suddenly dropped in realization. You moved your gaze back to Natasha when her grip on your chin tightened ever so slightly, “This is my girlfriend. And I was going to tell you, but she-” Natasha smiled and released your chin. You turned to face Raven.
“But I got to it first,” she interrupted, “So. If you would please stop flirting with my girlfriend, I would appreciate it.” Raven put her hands up, a gesture of peace, with a frigid smile.
“Of course,” she said, “Have a good night.” Natasha followed her with her eyes as she turned away before she jerked the barstool around so you faced her once more. You smiled innocently at her and raised your eyebrows. She was wearing a suit tonight- a rare occurrence. She was usually more of a dress girl, but you couldn’t complain. The blouse she wore underneath her black jacket was low-cut, exposing her fair skin and just a hint of cleavage.
“Was that really necessary?” you asked her, and she frowned at you.
“Of course it was,” she replied, her fingers trailing over your jawline. Your smile widened ever so slightly as her other hand, which was on your hip, slid slowly down over your thigh.
“I was going to tell her,” you said. Her smile faded just slightly. Her hand grazed up between your legs before she skirted away and instead her hand rested just above your knee.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” she said, and you barely caught the words as the music changed back to pounding, loud songs. You leaned closer, just barely. Natasha’s pupils expanded slightly as she inspected your face.
“You know I’m only yours, Natasha,” you said to her. She didn’t respond for a while, just letting her eyes roam your figure.
“I know. So let’s get out of here,” she finally said, and you pouted.
“I was just beginning to enjoy myself,” you feigned wanting to stay, and she frowned.
“You know you’ll have a much better time with me than you would sitting at a bar and breathing in the smell of other people’s sweat and vomit,” she shot back, and you shrugged, your cheeks flushing as you grinned.
“You’re right, I would,” you said. She gave you a knowing look, before pulling away from you and turning to walk away. You followed eagerly as she pushed through the crowd, getting dirty looks from strangers as she shoved them out of her way. God, she’s so hot, you thought as you followed her. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure you were following her, and she smiled softly when she saw you. Her hand found yours and gripped it tightly.
It only took a few moments to reach the tower’s elevator, and she pushed the button to take you to the floor her room was on. A little camera popped out of the wall to verify it was her and, satisfied, the elevator smoothly ascended. You turned to her as the doors closed and pulled her close by her hips.
Your lips met softly, tentative and thick with the taste of liquor. She pushed deeper into the kiss, stepping forward and forcing your back against the cool metal elevator wall. Her roaming hands found the hem of your shirt and toyed with it, and she turned her head to deepen the kiss.
The elevator dinged and she stepped backward, keeping her eyes on you. The green of her irises were nearly consumed by her pupils, and the sight itself sent a wave of heat coursing through you. You felt your heartbeat between your legs, and you shifted to try to ease the uncomfortable tension there. She smirked knowingly and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, pulling you out of the elevator and kissing you again, harshly.
She spun you around and pushed you roughly against the wall, earning a gasp as the air was sent from your lungs. Her lips pressed against yours again, your teeth hitting each other painfully, but you didn’t care. Your hands slid down her sides and settled over her ass. She smiled against your lips but didn’t comment further. One of her hands found your hair and tangled into your locks, earning a quiet moan at the sudden, sharp pressure against your scalp. She pulled away from your lips and you frowned at the sudden loss of contact. She jerked your head back by your hair to expose your neck and you whimpered slightly, but you were quickly silenced by the press of her lips against your neck.
You let out quiet moans as she left sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking on your skin to leave glistening love bites over your easily bruised flesh. You felt the sharp nick of her teeth against your neck and your heart raced as you whined involuntarily. She paused at the neckline of your shirt and pulled back, meeting your eyes.
She turned and led you down the hallway before opening the door to her room and pulling you inside. She closed the door and turned to you, her hands finding the hem of your shirt quickly. But she hesitated, and you furrowed your brow slightly. She met your eyes.
“Can I take your shirt off?” she asked you softly, and you smiled.
“Of course,” you replied, stepping back slightly so she could do so. She gently removed your shirt, pulling it over your head and dropping it to the floor. The only light was from the moon that shone outside the window, and her cold fingers traced your skin in the dark. You shivered slightly, leaning into her touch and pressing your lips to hers again. She backed you up and you paused as the backs of your knees hit the bed.
“Off,” you murmured, and tugged gently on her suit jacket and blouse. She smirked and hummed, stepping back for a moment to remove the clothes. You reached out to touch her skin, warm and soft and perfect. She let out a soft, shaky breath as your fingers danced over the curve of her waist and skimmed over her stomach, finally coming to rest on her hips. You could only see the outline of her face as she stared at you. She pushed you back onto the bed, and you fell, landing on the mattress with a soft sigh as the air was expelled from your lungs.
She hovered over you, her hair slipping from her shoulder and you thought she had never looked more beautiful, even if the darkness shrouded her features and you could only feel her above you.
“Move up to the pillows,” she murmured. You smiled softly before scooting up and resting on the pillows. She followed you and then straddled your hips once you had stilled. Her hands found their way to your breasts, still covered by your bra. She pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
“Can I take this off?” she asked. You nodded.
“Yes,” you replied, and she kissed you again before unhooking it and sliding it from your shoulders and then discarding it as if it were worthless.
She was drawn immediately to the soft swells of your breasts, and you let your head tip backward into the pillows as she traced the outline of your chest, her fingers ghosting over your warm skin. A shiver ran up your spine at the gentle touch. She moved slowly, each action deliberate in its intent. She sealed her lips around one of your nipples and you sighed at the feeling. As she swirled her tongue around one of your nipples her fingers found the other, rolling it between her thumb and index finger gently, playing with it.
You moaned shamelessly, your hands finding her hair and curling into her scarlet locks. She finally moved on from your breasts and left sloppy, wet kisses down over your stomach, pausing at the hem of your pants.
She leaned back up to press a gentle kiss to your lips again, and you were left breathless at the affection and care you suddenly felt pouring from her as she asked, “Do you want me to continue?”
“Yes,” you murmured and, your hand still knotted in her hair, you pulled her into a bruising kiss, trying to convey your love for her with a single touch. She pulled away after a few moments, and she smiled at you.
She shimmied down the length of your body and her fingers slipped under the hem of your pants. She removed them quickly, followed by your underwear. But again she paused, but this time it was to remove her own pants, leaving you both bare. You ached to touch her but held off. You knew she liked to please you first.
She settled her weight between your thighs, her hands pinning your hips to the bed. She leaned forwards and gently urged your legs up, and you obliged, bending your knees and allowing her greater access to you.
“You’re already so wet for me,” she murmured softly, and you blushed crimson at the words, sending another wave of heat through your body. Her fingers teased their way closer to your clit, and you let out a desperate moan as she skirted away again, earning a soft laugh from her.
“Please, Natasha,” you murmured, and she swore quietly. But she did oblige, leaning forward and spreading your folds apart, grazing your throbbing clit with her tongue. You groaned and your hips bucked forwards at the sudden contact, hands curling into the sheets, desperate to ease the tension that coiled just beneath your stomach. Her tongue worked over your clit, soft little strokes that made the knot beneath your belly tie itself tighter. Your desperate moans filled the room, and she relished the sound of your strained voice, loved the way you trembled beneath her touch.
Without warning, she slid a finger into you and you gasped, your back arching from the bed. A string of incoherent curses left your mouth as she drew her finger out and pushed back in slowly. She continued this motion, even as she leaned away from your clit and replaced her mouth with the pad of her thumb.
“Oh god, Natasha-” she cut you off as she pressed a hard kiss to your lips, and you moaned against her lips. She slid another finger into you and you shuddered, hips bucking to meet her hand, desperate to get the friction you needed. Your hands shifted from the bedsheets and to her back, your nails digging into her flesh like you would die if you let go.
Your back arched again and you groaned, panting, as she curled her fingers deep inside you. Her nails scraped against the ribbed flesh inside you as she kept her steady pace, the pad of her thumb continuing to work over your clit. It all left you breathless and overwhelmed, gasping for air, your nails scraping down her back and making her curse into your ear.
“Fuck, Natasha, I can’t-” your sentences were broken and incoherent, a string of desperate pleas that were meant to spur her on, as if she had any reason to stop. She felt you clenching around her hand, and her forearm began to burn with the effort of keeping the pace, but she continued studiously, cursing into your ear every time your nails dug into the skin of her back.
“Nat, I’m almost- Oh god, please-” you moaned loudly, and suddenly you were spilling over the edge, the tension that had been growing beneath your stomach coming undone in a matter of seconds. You collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving, eyes open but unseeing, and Natasha leaned back, proud of her work. She pulled her hand from between your legs and licked her fingers clean before slipping back up to brush strands of your damp, sweaty hair from your face. She could hardly see in the dim light, but the sound of your heavy breathing was enough to fill her with warmth.
“Damn,” you said finally, and she laughed.
“Do you want to shower?” she asked, and you hummed.
“Hmm, bold of you to assume we’re finished,” you said, pulling her down onto you and pressing a hard kiss to her mouth.
“I never said that the shower had to be the end of it,” she murmured against your lips.