Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by WithinHerHeart :)

The brunette let out a pleasured noise and her back arch beautifully as she reached upwards to grasp the headboard tightly. The redhead between her legs grinned wickedly, dangerously, taking some kind of twisted enjoyment out of stringing her lover along, making her whine and beg. The full lips were moist and a little swollen making everything seem just that little bit more filthier, and suddenly she had no need to shout and complain about the teasing, and just wanted more. She spread her legs wider, and canned her hips desperately. Strong hands, fingers calloused from arrow fire, gripped her hips to hold her in place.

The brunette squeaked out her objection to this tag-team attack, which only made the others smile. His voice, deep and husky with arousal, but still managing to keep that teasing tone, reprehended her for her impatience. She opened her mouth to reply but whatever words she was going to say dissolved into a long moan when a lick was delivered, long and slow, to her most private parts.

It was the Christmas after the attack of Manhattan that Darcy Lewis first met the S.H.I.E.L.D agents, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton. She'd accompanied Jane Foster, her old boss and, most importantly, her closest friend, to some Christmas charity gala that Tony Stark was throwing. Apparently, it was a yearly thing and the Avengers had been expected to attend. Thor had taken that opportunity to introduce his human girlfriend and her "strange little friend" to his new friends. Not that Darcy was overly bothered - well, maybe she was a little because she did spend a stupidly insane amount on a sparkling black dress that she was certain she would only wear once (well, where else would she get the chance to wear it exactly?) but come on, she was meeting the Avengers. Everyone had seen them right? Gorgeous superheroes who wore skin-tight clothes that left nothing to the imagination (and Darcy had tested that theory extensively) and saved the world from villainous threats.

And she was both disappointed and pleased to know that they were just as disgustingly attractive in the person as they were on the TV.

Thor placed a hand on the small of her back, encouraging her forward. "And this is Lady Darcy Lewis," he announced, and once again reminded Darcy that she needed to teach Thor about the concept of inside voices.

All eyes turned to her and suddenly, it was as if she had come over all shy. Her shoulders rose slightly and her chin dropped and her smile was shaky and nervous, and her hands tightly gripped the fabric of her dress. She could see Jane's mildly amused look being shot in her direction and if she wasn't so intensely focused on not making a fool of herself in front of Earth's Mightiest Heroes, she would have glared at her. Instead, she muttered a greeting and silently tried to will the pink flush from her cheeks. Tony looked outright entertained by her reaction, and winked her at her playfully, which, really, did not help the situation in the slightest. Bruce, looking really uncomfortable in his tuxedo, offered her a thin smile and a wave of his hand. Steve was ever the gentleman and politely pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, just as he had done with Jane previously. And Clint and Natasha...well, they greeted her with wide smiles, like one would an old friend, and dragged their eyes, hot and full of purpose, down her frame, bringing goosebumps to the surface of her skin.

When Tony asked whether anyone wanted another drink - "on the house, of course," he assured - Darcy was quick to answer, relief in her voice as she blurted out a, "god, yes".

"Lady Darcy can hold her mead as well as any warrior on Asgard," Thor declared almost proudly, "She has, as you Midgardian's say, 'drunk me under the table'."

He beamed at the proud look Jane sent him for the appropriate use of Earth sayings.

At the time, Darcy hadn't been aware of the conspiratorial looks that the two master assassins were sending each other, but she would have been an idiot not to notice the eyes burning into the skin that was revealed through the dip in the back of her dress or the neckline that cupped and amplified her pleasantly large cleavage. In any other situation, she would have felt violated and there would have been no doubt about a fight about to go down. But now, with them, it made her feel...dirty, but not in a bad way. More in the way that made your skin tingle down to your toes, centring heavily between your legs that made you want nothing more than some kind of release. It felt...good.

The redhead let out a stuttered moan against the sensitive flesh when hands skitted along the curve of her arse. Automatically, she pushed up into the open palm and let out a breathy sigh when fingers caressed her pussy, the wetness there making it easy to slip a finger into the moist heat. He grinned when he crooked the finger and the woman beneath him rocked backwards. The second finger was added quicker than expected, scissoring and stretching the skin in a way that stung in the most luscious way possible.

She panted heavily against the brunette's thigh, who allowed her a moment to gather herself until it just became too much. One hand released the headboard to knot roughly in the red curls and forcibly tugged her face back into her pussy, rubbing the wet skin against her face. One of her legs wrapped around her neck, just to make sure she kept her attention where it was supposed to be.

Three fingers piston between her legs and she widened her stance for better access. Her toes curled and she hummed happily when a tongue, probing and eager, lapped between the fingers. The brunette tightened her fingers in her lover's hair and she gasped how close she was. The man muttered his encouragement to the release, wanting to see the moment that the climax hit the smaller woman, wanting to taste it. The redhead muttered something incoherent and sped up her efforts.

The brunette's cry when she finally came echoed around the walls of the room.

When she says she has an over stimulated imagination, she was being deadly serious. It was what gave her nightmares as a child; what convinced her that her 5th grade teacher was a vampire; what encouraged her to learn defence in high school; what made it remarkably easy to believe that Thor was a Norse God from an alien planet known as Asgard. And it's what brought fantasy upon twisted fantasy to Darcy's mind every night, leaving her to wake up sweating and horny, squirming beneath the covers of her bed.

Don't get her wrong, she'd had naughty dreams before, but usually they'd been about celebrities that she had no chance with and, perhaps most importantly, that she didn't have to encounter everyday. Jane had moved in with Thor at the Avengers' Mansion and, as her roommate and with no way to pay both sides of the rent, Tony had been happy to offer her a room free of charge. She would have to be an idiot to turn down that kind of offer.

Only problem was, now Natasha and Clint were everywhere. Literally everywhere. Apparently, it was a normal occurrence for Clint to climb around in the ventilation system during the day and just pop out to gather food before retreating again.

"He has a nest up there," Coulson had said, in way of explanation, as if they helped in anyway.

And Natasha, let's not even get her started on the way that woman would walk around with those huge heels and yet make no noise what so ever. It was inhuman. Even worse, the redhead seemed to have a penchant for just sneaking up on her for no apparent reason. One time, she had wandered to where the kitchen was located on one of the lower floors because she was desperately craving Bruce's chocolate milk, and had turned around to head back, only to scream when she saw Natasha standing there, way too close with a wicked smirk on her face.

She trailed her eyes down her body and Darcy was increasingly aware of the fact she wasn't wearing pants.

"Nice underwear," Natasha stated, eyebrow arched, before brushing past her and for a moment, it felt as if her finger had trailed along the line of her panties over her bottom.

Really that should have been her first clue that something was going to happen. But no, she had just taken the thought of it (because she still wasn't really convinced it had actually happened) to bed with her and had immensely enjoyed the idea of Natasha sucking her clit through the fabric of her underwear. Even more so when she wondered what would happen if Clint watched them through the grated vent that faced the bed.

She was a little embarrassed by how long it took her to figure it out actually. It took until the beginning of the summer before the thought even entered her mind that the two S.H.I.E.L.D agents might be interested in her outside of her own mind. And even then, she had to be cornered by the two, pressed between abs and breasts, and felt the hot breath in her ear as they whispered what they really wanted to do to her, and, yeah...

She guessed it was her weak will under their incredibly hot demands that put her in this situation. Not that she was complaining. Really, she wasn't.

The head of his cock nudged teasingly at the heat between her lips, enjoying the lustful sounds she released. The redhead couldn't wait any longer and her hips jerked backwards, enveloping the tip in her folds and she let out a moan as it filled her. He hissed out a breath through gritted teeth, and he moved of his own accord, thrusting into her pussy completely and his balls slapped loudly against her thighs. She hummed and rolled her bottom half playfully. He groaned loudly, dropping forward to bury his face in her red curls, for a moment before he grasped her waist roughly and dragged her upwards to sit on his muscled thighs. She gasped and bit down on her bottom lip. The strap on cock pointed upwards the ceiling, curved onto her flat stomach, and the brunette grinned impishly at the sight before her.

He growled out the order for her to get on and the brunette took her time to approach the connected couple, crawling slowly on her hands and knees. She sucked each perky nipple deeply, bringing them to a delicious point, before she rose herself onto her knees. She grasped the plastic penis in two hands and jacked it for a moment, the movements easy with the slick of lube, before she angled it downward slightly and slid the head passed her swollen pussy lips.

Fingernails dug into flesh, marking and marring in the most beautiful of ways. Lips pressed against each other in filthy kisses and teeth bit bruises onto necks, arms and shoulders. Hips thrust roughly against each other, the force behind his movements forcing her own forward, forcing the dildo deeper. Toes curled, thighs quaked; breath shuddered as moans and grunts and flesh against flesh echoed the room.

The brunette's hands cupped the breasts in front of her face and drew the nipple into her mouth, suckling desperately. She was close, so very close. She didn't even realise that she was asking, begging, for more until she heard his dark chuckle and a gravelled voice murmuring not to disappoint.

His balls drew up tight to his body and his jerks stuttered uncontrollably, jack hammering into her pussy before the redhead let out a cry out pleasure, unrestrained and so uncharacteristic of the assassin, as she finally came. The wall of muscles clenched down on his cock and he couldn't hold back any longer, letting out a gurgled moan. His cock twitched pathetically inside of her, drained. The brunette bit down on her bottom lip, loving the sated and abused looks on her lover's faces, and she moved desperately on the plastic cock. The redhead smiled lazily at her and seemed to use the last of her energy (although both of her loves knew differently) to roll her hips forward and one of her hands drifted to rub firmly at her hardened clit. She muffled the noise she released when she climaxed in the crook of her arm, her body trembling and her breath shuddered.

Bodies detangled from each other slowly, muscles heavy as they fell into their usual spaces on the bed - Clint in the middle, Darcy on his left and Natasha on his right, because, apparently, he was a good pillow.

Darcy rose herself onto her elbow to glance at the clock on the opposite wall, and grinned widely. "Hey, it's past midnight. We managed to fuck into the next day," she announced, a proud tinge to her voice.

Natasha hummed. "A new record," she muttered tiredly, "Merry Christmas."

Clint pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Give us until New Years, we'll be able to fuck into next year," he reminded them.

"Hmm, can't wait," Darcy uttered lowly. She rose up to press a kiss to Clint's lips and then leant over his chest to do the same to Natasha. She settled back into her place with a contented sigh, before she paused, as if suddenly realising something, "Guys, its Christmas. Can I open presents now?"

The two master assassin's laughed throatily as their eyes drifted shut. She wanted to open her mouth and say, really, she wasn't joking, she wanted to open presents now, but the two looked so peaceful lying there, lost in sleep, that she didn't have the heart to wake them. Instead, she breathed out and nuzzled into Clint's chest, feeling his arm tightening around her.

Merry Christmas.