❝these were the women who knitted pain into glory❞
[COMPLETED]
[marvel cinematic universe]
[alternate universe]
[natasha romanoff]
[SO MANY WORDING ERRORS BUT I CBA TO FIX THEM RN]
BAD BITCH ❝these were the women who knitted pain into glory❞
03. Undercover Mission
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November 2016
The fluorescent lights of the hallway hummed above her head. Soft purple hues radiated onto her body, illuminating the pathway ahead of her, and curled around her figure. The hallway's long, concealed with no windows, and barren of any other inhabitants aside from the man stood at the end of it. The faint thrum of music penetrated past the door within view and was muffled only by the concrete walls blocking it. The sound echoed along the cold hall and the soft bass seemed to coil into submission before attacking into a loud chorus of singers.
Svetlana wasn't invited. She supposed she rarely was. The thin sunglasses did very little to hide her face yet that was mostly the objective; pretty women very rarely got denied access to a party. The tight fitting dress, heightened by the push up bra she was wearing, was merely allowing her the chance to avoid suspicion. Hydra were everywhere and they couldn't know about her personal missions. They'd tried to find Svetlana before on one of her own missions, intrigued and frightened of what the woman could have been up to in her spare time, but, as she wasn't a prisoner of war like the Solider was, they couldn't follow her for long before she had attacked them with a savageness they wouldn't forget for a long while. She'd remember with disdain at how the blood had coated her nails. The sharp sound of her heels clinking against the floored tiles warranted the attention of the bouncer at the door, immediately noticing his eyes go to her chest, and Svetlana made sure to lick her lips just for good measure. It only took a few steps to know that she was going to get in with very little resistance. She had had a back up plan, incase her original pacifist entrance hadn't been successful, but that one had involved a lot more violence rather than sweet smiles. With natural confidence, Svetlana allowed her exposed legs to carry her closer to the door. The night's air couldn't seem to chill her anymore, nothing compared to Russia's winters, so the lack of clothing didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. The large brown fur coat wrapped around her waist, not hiding her breasts however, was merely because it had matched the skintight black dress. European's tended to observe fur coats with appreciation, Svetlana had observed many moons ago, and had made sure to have tailored it to her outfits whenever she could. Within three steps from the door, it was opened with a sense of obedience. Svetlana barely concealed her smirk. For her, men were easy to manipulate. Especially unsuspecting ones. They'd allow any woman in as long as they knew how to turn them on. Svetlana felt a rush of satisfaction rush to her as the once muffled music became clear, hearing the perfect heat of the lyrics, and she pushed one side of her hair back to expose her neck to the bouncer. Offering the muscled man a sultry smile, her hand trailed along his chest as she walked through into her mission, and let her thick eyelashes flutter along her cheeks for a moment in feigned heat. The bouncer barely had any time to react, however, as Svetlana was gone within the crowd just as quickly as she'd arrived.
