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You're mine!
Natasha Romanoff admittedly hadn't heard the impassioned and furious snap that she heard from her romantic partner soulmate, Clarke Griffin. She hadn't expected it, and was startled at the outburst, but she also couldn't say she was too disappointed.
She was possessive of Clarke. That she would never pretend for a second, she was possessive of her Clarke.
Which was why when hearing that Clarke felt the same way? It was startling, admittedly, but it was strangely satisfying to hear.
"You're mine!" had been the words that Clarke had spit out in anger, looking at Natasha possessively, protectively, fangs bearing, eyes black, enraged that someone had touched Natasha like that.
Natasha smiled gently at Clarke. Clarke wasn't a very possessive person. It was rare when she was. Clarke didn't flip out when Natasha was touched casually every time, or touched by anyone-she wasn't like that. Clarke didn't flip out every time someone touched Natasha in any capacity. In fact, Clarke hated people like that. But for Clarke, it was different when it came to Natasha and those Clarke didn't trust around the redhead.
Whenever Fury or Alexei or anyone like them, touched Natasha particularly possessively, Clarke would tense up and growl, wanting to hurt them.
It wasn't that Clarke considered Natasha a possession and was angry when other people touched her "possession," it wasn't anything like that. It was that Clarke was protective, and she didn't think that Alexei or Fury respected Natasha.
When people like Clint or Laura Barton, or Carol, or Steve, or Sam or Thor or Maria Hill or other were around Natasha and touched the Black Widow, Clarke didn't flip out. Clarke just didn't trust Alexei and Fury specifically.
When Clarke had first met Fury, she had almost ripped his head off, because Natasha had been with him and he had put his arm around Natasha, positive that Fury was treating Natasha like a piece of meat.
When Clarke had first growled at Fury, Natasha had been worried, until Clarke had expressed the reason why she was growling at Fury. The godlike being had sneered at Fury, "Take your hands off her! She's not your fucking toy or possession."
When she had heard that, Natasha had actually smiled.
Clarke had been protective. That was all.
And she still was.
Alexei had tried to hug Natasha and Clarke had snarled in his face, furious.
"Clarke," Natasha said, "We both know that you're not possessive, not severely. So, knock it off. We know what this is about, don't we?"
Clarke huffed, eyes glowing darker in frustration.
Clarke could get possessive, sure. But when she said things like that, she wasn't being possessive or saying who Natasha could hang out with, she was trying to cover for the fact that she was worried about Natasha-that she was protective over how Natasha was treated by people like Alexei and Fury.
Clarke had told Natasha a good deal about knowing about how men tended to treat women-especially if their society was similar to the Ark's society, as the Ark society was much closer to the society before the bombs and the radiation, a much more misogynistic society.
Seeing Fury wrapping an arm around Natasha had gotten Clarke ornery for that exact reason. And with the history that Natasha and Alexei had? Clarke had a lot of reasons to distrust Alexei around Natasha. And a lot of reasons to want to kill him.
So, when Clarke snarled in Alexei's face, Natasha had tried to calm Clarke down, and Clarke had thrown out that possessive statement, trying to pretend that she was one of those possessive pieces of scum, even though Natasha knew the truth.
"We both know what this is about," Natasha repeated, staring at Clarke, "So don't talk like that. You're not interested in being possessive of me. You're just interested in keeping me safe. And I'm safe, alright, Clarke? Please, calm down."
Clarke grunted, looking away.
She then shook her head. She huffed out, "It's not my fault that Fury, puts you in danger, all the time. You think he cares about you? He doesn't. He just uses you, and Clint and the others as his goons."
Natasha sighed. She spoke softly. "Clarke, you think I can't handle that?" She asked, "I want to do what I do. To undo the damage that I've done over the years, before I joined the Avengers."
Clarke snorted. "Okay, sure," She said, "But it doesn't change the fact that Fury's the same as the Red Room fuckers. He just uses you. You think he's such a good guy who gives a shit about you, Nat? He doesn't. He's just a puppet master. Like Dreykov."
Clarke watched as Natasha's gaze hardened, finally. Clarke had had a feeling that that accusation in regards to Fury would finally get Natasha to react.
As much as Clarke hated it, she knew that Natasha cared about Fury.
Clarke honestly had no idea why. Fury was a manipulative. He didn't care about anyone or anything, except the long-term events.
"Don't say things like that." Natasha whispered and Clarke heard the plea in the redhead's voice and she tried not to wince. She never wanted to get Natasha to plead with her over anything, outside of the bedroom.
Natasha should never have to plead for anything.
Natasha was…she wasn't just a queen. As far as Clarke was concerned, Natasha was a goddess. Mortal and human, despite the super soldier serum, she was, nonetheless, a goddess in Clarke's eyes.
How anyone else didn't see that, was beyond her.
Everyone else, besides her, Clint, the rest of the Barton family and a few others, looked at Natasha, and just saw her as a sex object. Someone that was meant to fulfill some sexual fantasy that they had.
And while Clarke would never deny that every single thing Natasha did, was able to make Clarke entranced by her, and to admittedly be turned on by the older woman, it didn't change that Clarke knew that Natasha Romanoff was so much more than just someone that people could project their sexual fantasies onto.
She had helped end tyrannical dynasties, taken down both aliens and big criminal lords like Dreykov's allies, had gone head to head with forces that most people in this world couldn't even begin to wrap their minds around.
And Natasha was able to look a creature like Clarke in the eye, and fearlessly tell her what to do.
No one deserved Natasha's attentions, and Clarke knew that she didn't either. But she sure as hell wouldn't do anything to prevent this relationship from continuing.
But how anyone like Fury could take Natasha for granted, was beyond her.
"How am I wrong?" Clarke asked Natasha gently, "I'm not sure we have any proof that I'm wrong. Think about it. He lied about the hero cards in Coulson's pocket when Coulson was killed by Loki, and he does what he wants with you guys. I don't trust him."
"Clarke," Natasha said, her voice controlled, "You should understand him. You've been a leader before. You've had to give orders before. You know what it takes sometimes."
Clarke nodded, snickering, "Exactly. I know how people like him think because I've done things like he's done. It's precisely why I don't trust him. Nat," She shook her head, "He deserves to get at least some body part broken. Allow me, please."
"I'm not going to have you do that," Natasha almost groaned, a slight smile on her face. "Clarke, I know you're just being protective. But there's nothing you can do. I don't want you to do anything. Just let it go."
Clarke huffed. Let it go. Just let it go.
Really?
How could she fucking let it go, when that bitch, Fury did what he had done? Put Natasha in that kind of fucking danger?
Seeing the look on Clarke's face, Natasha sighed, stepping over and reaching out, gently taking Clarke's left hand in her right hand.
"Clarke," She said, voice taking a firmer tone, "I want you to take a breath. I want you to breathe. Can you do that for me?"
Clarke tensed. Natasha had used the magic words, as Natasha and Clarke's other romantic partner soulmates had learned worked on her.
She eventually nodded weakly and as Natasha smiled and walked, Clarke followed the older woman.
The two of them reached Natasha's bedroom and when the door closed behind them, Natasha went to the bed and sat down at the edge of the bed, and guided Clarke down to her lap, allowing Clarke to curl her head on Natasha's lap.
"Calm down." Natasha ordered, hand releasing Clarke's hand and her left set of fingers stroking through Clarke's hair as the younger woman rested on the Black Widow's lap.
Clarke grunted and growled, but didn't say anything else after that. She was furious still, but she knew she could never go against Natasha's commands, not even for a second.
Natasha smiled contentedly, still stroking Clarke's hair tenderly. Her Clarke would calm down, eventually. She knew she would need to talk with Clarke about this more. About her distrust for Fury, about her overprotectiveness for Natasha herself. They would have to talk about it sooner, at some point.
But for now, Natasha was happy to soothe Clarke into calmness, help her get to sleep, for now.
Natasha nodded to Clarke, "You're right, Clarke," She said, "I'm yours. And you're mine too."
