Avengers Imagines

Pleasing a Storm (Pt. 1/2)

A kick aimed at the ribs delivered by the Black Widow herself successfully dodged. You flashed a victor's smile. She lunged at you — huge mistake. You immediately ducked and Natasha passed right over you, landing in a half split.

That was your cue. You would push her flat on the mat and hold her hands behind her back until she quit. After the intricate maneuvers you had performed to emerge victorious in the spar training, what failed was the walking over. Your ankle twisted the wrong way, having you collapse in the way of a sack of potatoes.

Natasha was up like a cat, hovering over you, the victor's smile now hers. She twisted your hands behind your back, knee between your shoulder blades, forcing your head down. You tried to push yourself up, to no avail. There was only so long you could hold on until giving up would be the sole option available.

But then something happened. Natasha leaned down, to gloat most likely, when she lost her footing entirely. She rolled over to your left and you were on her without wasting a second, pinning her hands over her head. The Black Widow's squirming was not long-lived, and sooner rather than later she had to relent. "Fine, you win! Now let go."

Immensely pleased with yourself but also infected with doubt, you strutted out of the arena. Clint greeted you with a high five. "Good job out there. I almost didn't think you were going to make it, especially at the end. I am proud of you, kid."

"Clint, I am two years younger than you." You objected. The man put a hand to his heart, nearly taking offense. "(Y/N), I took you in the day you showed your little urchin face around here. I cared for you, mentored you, hell, I even let you live at my place rent-free until you could buy an apartment in this economy. You are like the child I never had."

"You have, like, five children." You deadpanned. Clint effortlessly paid no heed to it. "So yes, I will call you 'kid' if I want to and you cannot stop me." Flashing a smile of affectionate disbelief, you clapped his shoulder before moving away.

Clint's words had acted as a catalyst to your preexistent doubts. He was right, there was no way you should have won that fight, especially counting on Natasha doing something as careless as losing her balance. It was almost a one in a million chance, if that even.

Inquisitive eyes fluttering all over the place, they glimmered when you spotted Loki seated on one of the benches, his features lit up in a sort of amused accomplishment. He started straight ahead as you closed in and continued doing it even after you had taken a seat next to him. "Thank you. I did not know you were capable of doing nice things."

"I beg your pardon, mortal?" Loki turned to you for the first time, an incriminating smirk still playing on his lips. You raised a brow in challenge. "So you are gonna sit there and pretend you didn't make Natasha trip on purpose?"

His smile fell ever so slightly. He had not expected you to figure out his trickery and by extension, the fact that you possessed his tacit support. Not that it changed anything, he would never admit to doing it. Loki opened his mouth to justify some kind of excuse but before he could speak, Tony interrupted. "Yo, Green Sourpatch, you are required over on the mat. Your brother's there already."

Loki turned away from Tony, and in doing so, more toward you. A frown was etched on his face — so deep, it revealed his bottom teeth down to the gums. Your glance flitted between the two men. "Loki, uh, he...he trained with me earlier." Lie, a poor one.

"What?" Tony put his hands up and let them fall to his sides, loudly. "I thought you were training with Nat."

"Earlier. Before Natasha, I trained with...him." You'd think the second lie would come easier but no. Tony either missed all glaring clues entirely or, more likely, chose to ignore the blatant fraud happening right in front of him. He shrugged and walked away, not looking back once.