bartonsarrowhead said: I (and I'm sure I'm not alone in this) have been craving a fic which is set in the Avengers timeline and - in which it is Natasha that Loki takes under his spell instead of Clint. Pweese? :3
Something is wrong.
Clint stares at the woman before him, with her red hair and her gun and her deadset mouth. He knows it’s Natasha - he’s kissed those lips, fisted his hands in that hair - but he can’t bring himself to call her by that name.
It’s her eyes.
They aren’t the jade green that has fast become his favourite colour, the hue that haunts his every moment and becomes his own personal Heaven.
They’re hazy, rheumatic. But most notably, most horrifyingly… They’re chlorine blue.
"Nat… Please, put the gun down," he says, voice placid despite the panic that rises in his throat.
"I will kill you, Barton," she replies coolly, and her accent is slowly becoming thicker, that delectable rich Russian texture that had long left her.
"Nat. Natasha, this isn’t you. Loki’s done something to you. You can fight it, come on."
He begins to approach her and she shoots the spot directly next to his head.
"I won’t miss next time," she snaps.
"If you didn’t know me, you wouldn’t have fired a warning shot," he retaliates.
She blinks and that moment of uncertainty is all he needs. He surges at her, wrenches the gun and flips her.
He straddles her hips, a position he knows all too well, but when she scratches and bites and yanks his hair she only wants to hurt him.
"I love you, Nat, I love you," he says over and over again, trying not to bruise her wrists as he pins them down.
"I’ll kill you!" she screeches, tossing her head so that she can crush his nose, send the cartilage into his brain.
She’s going to as well. And so he resorts to his failsafe plan; he kisses her.
Natasha stiffens against him, her clawed hands frozen round his neck. He doesn’t close his eyes, dares not to shut her out. He needs her to know him, to fight for him.
The blue drains into her pupil, a curtain that pulls back to reveal that beloved jade. He pulls back and blinks at her.
Her eyes soften and the corner of her mouth jerks up in that beloved smirk, that filthy fucking smirk that makes his heart flip and his stomach roll.
"No kissing on the job, Bird Brain. We’ve got a god to fight."
And Clint, for all his professionalism, can’t help but break that rule one more time.
Aaaawww, the power of love uwu xox