"Would you like to?" Times like this, Natasha likes to ask -- likes to turn her training off and rely on the fact that it's Clint, and there's nothing here to be afraid of. Her thumb shifts, running over the cut of his jaw, her smile soft but promising too. And it's not Natasha if what she's promising isn't dangerous.

"Maybe it's the adrenaline, but I want-" She stops, briefly shaking her head, like she needs the physical tic to stop herself. Her thumb pulls at his lower lip. "I want to make you mine. Just for now."