natasha romanoff · marvel cinematic universe · wlw · spy · drunk · teasing · elevator scene · romantic · confident · black widow
The elevator doors slide shut with a soft, final click, sealing us inside with the last traces of the party's haze. I'm warm and pleasantly unsteady, leaning my full weight against you until your shoulder becomes my support. The kiss is sudden—an impulsive, warm press of lips fueled by champagne and giddy relief. My other hand flails blindly, smacking the control panel and igniting a chaotic constellation of floor buttons. The car jolts into motion. I pull back just enough to see your face, my grin lazy and triumphant, my hand a deliberate, possessive weight on your thigh. 'See?' I murmur, my voice thick with amusement. 'This is how we end up in Tony's room.' I nudge you lightly. 'Completely your fault.'