"I would hate for you to start this not being fully aware that I'll go below the belt if it's on the table," Natasha says without any sign of shame that she'd fight dirty. "Considering you have the advantage, it would be silly of me not to take whatever edges I can get."
Natasha's lips twitch, a little smirk that pairs with a light of mischief in her eye. She's not really surprised by Bucky's acceptance. She's sure he's not worried about it.
That does open up a whole realm of possibilities that might not be available to her in a more regulated fight.
He starts to circle, and Natasha steps to keep him in front of her, watching for any sign of an attack or an opening in his defenses.
That was the idea. In their of line work, no one played by rules, so why should they in training? He wants her to throw everything she has at him.
He gives her a quick look, never letting his eyes linger in any one spot too long, looking for an opening in her defenses.
One of his biggest weaknesses is being less concerned about the side with the vibranium arm. He depends on it far too much to be the brunt of hits and attacks. His right side is far better guarded. And even then, he's still very quick.
She'll throw some things at him, at least. Natasha wouldn't be the Black Widow if she didn't keep a few aces up her sleeve.
But she should still be able to keep things interesting. She circles briefly, weighing, her stance easy but with an underlying tension, something someone less experienced than Bucky might easily miss. She's ready, watching for her opening—and when she doesn't get one, ready to make her best move. He doesn't guard his left side as closely. A fact probably balanced out under most circumstances by its durability and the fact his opponents probably prefer to avoid it. There's a psychological element.
There always is.
When he doesn't make the first move, Natasha springs first with a sudden ferocity. She doesn't take the time to feel him out, test his defenses. Against someone with so much more stamina, it would only wear her out while he stayed fresh. An explosive attack, going for his head—for his neck—seems better. It won't be the first time she's had her thighs around his head.
It's not the first time, to the point he almost expects this move. Not that he thought she would start with it, twisting around him until her legs are wrapped around his neck. It's familiar enough, he should have been able to prevent it.
In this environment, he doesn't have a table or vehicle to slam her against, but he does turn to smash her into the gym wall, and his flesh arm reaches to grab her neck.
Natasha is well aware that with the difference in their stamina, she doesn't have a chance playing a long game in this fight, and while she's not necessarily concerned with winning, she does want to keep things interesting.
She has to start hard.
She also doesn't want to tip her hand and show all of her secrets right out of the gate. As soon as he confirmed there wouldn't be rules in this engagement to speak of, three or four options came to mind immediately. All of them aces to hold in reserve for when he got the upper hand. Which she has to assume he will.
For the moment, though, she rides out being tossed around, her thighs tightening around his neck. The wall doesn't give him the same leverage as a table had, which... still isn't great, but especially when he uses his flesh and bone hand, it gives her some room to work. Her hands wrap around his wrist and she tips her chin, doing what else she can to protect her windpipe while she puts pressure on his carotid artery with her legs.
He expected her to start hard, but he's not counting on his stamina to get him through.
His metal hand tries to wrench itself between a thigh and his neck. When it seems like the wall isn't going to make a difference, he takes a chance and to flops to the floor.
On his back, at least, he's hoping the momentum might throw her off, or loosen her hold.
Natasha sees his drop coming with just enough time to be ready to hit the mat, to exhale so she doesn't have the air knocked out of her lungs as her back hits the floor. The jolt is enough to break her lock on Barnes's neck, though, and his metal hand gets between her thighs.
From there, it's a change of tactics. She needs to get away before he can get a grip on her.
He pushes his hand hand through. Free of her grasp, he has very little time to turn things around, himself.
Bucky wastes no time getting back to his feet. He reaches to grab for her, an arm, around the waist, a foot - whatever he can get. No rules, after all.
Natasha doesn't do anything as graceless as scramble—she's too well practiced for that—but she does move urgently, knowing it'll be trouble for her if he gets a grip on her. Despite her efforts, she's not entirely successful, and Barnes is able to catch her foot as she tries disengage.
He's still cognizant of the strength he uses, but when Bucky feels her foot catch, he aims to pull her toward him. From there, he'll get on top, one knee on other side, and try to trap her between his thighs, for a change.
When he grabs her, Natasha lashes out, her free heel kicking at his vibranium arm, then his head. She's not strong enough to break his grip, though, and if doesn't let go because of a kick across the jaw, then she'll been in trouble.
Kicking his arm does nothing to get her leg free. The blow to his jaw, he's unable to avoid at the distance. He refuses to let go of her leg so suffers it willingly. It does stop Bucky for a second. His hold, however, does not loosen.
When he recovers, he pulls her toward him once more.
Never let it be said that James Buchanan Barnes isn't stubborn and tough. Neither comes as a surprise to Natasha, but it doesn't make for an easy match.
She almost smiles at it. Almost. Instead, the expression comes across as a determined grimace. If she can't get away from him, she'll try the opposite in a kick up, aiming her knee for his body, then reaching for a handful of hair.
Had to be stubborn when you were friends with Steve Rogers. It was a trait that came in handy in battle, too.
He seems her grimace and knows she's not going to make this easy. He's okay with that, was counting on it, hoping for it. The kick catches him in the chest, and he grunts a little. He feels it enough it matters, but not enough to change anything.
The hair pulling throws him off a little. His expression alters. Softens. Bucky opens his mouth to suggest she not do that, but he closes it. He said anything. It's his own fault. But his hold on her might loosen just a little.
Natasha didn't plan for just that reaction. Grabbing Barnes' hair had been grasping at straws, and at least to herself she admits that. She's not one to pass up an opportunity when she gets one, though, and she knows exactly what she's doing when she exploits that space.
Instead of scrambling immediately away, she movies toward him, curling into his space as she uses her grip on his hair to pull him down into hers so she can bring her teeth down on his neck. It's not a gentle bite, but she figures he can take that.
Bucky hadn't expected his own reactions, either. Not the one when she pulled his hair, nor the more uncomfortable one, when her teeth sunk into his skin.
It brought back the night in the club in bits and pieces, unintended reactions aside. He had to pull his body away from hers below the waist just to keep his reactions from being too obvious.
"I thought we were going to spar?" Bucky finally says, to let her know in the gentlest way possible something had gone askew. He had told her anything goes, but he can't ignore the side-effects.
"Aren't we?" Natasha asks without pause. She plants one of her feet on Barnes' chest, not so much kicking him as pushing him of his body and rolling away.
She fixes him with a look both playful and challenging, "You said anything goes. You think that doesn't mean biting and scratching if that's what it takes?"
He takes this chance to roll away himself. Close to the ground, he keeps an eye on her.
"I did. I need water." Bucky can't argue with her, but he can't continue, either. And from her tone, she knows exactly why, too. Not that he's going to admit it if she doesn't make him.
He's just going to get up and grab his water bottle right then, mind reeling. He had expected her to fight dirty. He hadn't expected his reactions.
"Fair enough," Natasha says and falls back, giving him space. She does know why.
And it's not what she expected. Even after his reaction to having his hair pulled, she wasn't expecting to respond that strongly. Her intention had been to throw him off balance, to distract him—and it had worked.
A little too well.
"Should we update our rules?" she asks, glancing at him sideways. "For future matches."
Wind downish, handwave some more sparring? I can't think of what else to do with this one
"Sure, that could be one reason," Natasha agrees airily. That, and she's made something of a habit of getting people around her to cook for her. It's better than endless sandwiches and canned surprises.
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"I would hate for you to start this not being fully aware that I'll go below the belt if it's on the table," Natasha says without any sign of shame that she'd fight dirty. "Considering you have the advantage, it would be silly of me not to take whatever edges I can get."
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"I'd expect nothing else. Use everything you have," he assures her.
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That does open up a whole realm of possibilities that might not be available to her in a more regulated fight.
He starts to circle, and Natasha steps to keep him in front of her, watching for any sign of an attack or an opening in his defenses.
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That was the idea. In their of line work, no one played by rules, so why should they in training? He wants her to throw everything she has at him.
He gives her a quick look, never letting his eyes linger in any one spot too long, looking for an opening in her defenses.
One of his biggest weaknesses is being less concerned about the side with the vibranium arm. He depends on it far too much to be the brunt of hits and attacks. His right side is far better guarded. And even then, he's still very quick.
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But she should still be able to keep things interesting. She circles briefly, weighing, her stance easy but with an underlying tension, something someone less experienced than Bucky might easily miss. She's ready, watching for her opening—and when she doesn't get one, ready to make her best move. He doesn't guard his left side as closely. A fact probably balanced out under most circumstances by its durability and the fact his opponents probably prefer to avoid it. There's a psychological element.
There always is.
When he doesn't make the first move, Natasha springs first with a sudden ferocity. She doesn't take the time to feel him out, test his defenses. Against someone with so much more stamina, it would only wear her out while he stayed fresh. An explosive attack, going for his head—for his neck—seems better. It won't be the first time she's had her thighs around his head.
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In this environment, he doesn't have a table or vehicle to slam her against, but he does turn to smash her into the gym wall, and his flesh arm reaches to grab her neck.
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She has to start hard.
She also doesn't want to tip her hand and show all of her secrets right out of the gate. As soon as he confirmed there wouldn't be rules in this engagement to speak of, three or four options came to mind immediately. All of them aces to hold in reserve for when he got the upper hand. Which she has to assume he will.
For the moment, though, she rides out being tossed around, her thighs tightening around his neck. The wall doesn't give him the same leverage as a table had, which... still isn't great, but especially when he uses his flesh and bone hand, it gives her some room to work. Her hands wrap around his wrist and she tips her chin, doing what else she can to protect her windpipe while she puts pressure on his carotid artery with her legs.
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His metal hand tries to wrench itself between a thigh and his neck. When it seems like the wall isn't going to make a difference, he takes a chance and to flops to the floor.
On his back, at least, he's hoping the momentum might throw her off, or loosen her hold.
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From there, it's a change of tactics. She needs to get away before he can get a grip on her.
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Bucky wastes no time getting back to his feet. He reaches to grab for her, an arm, around the waist, a foot - whatever he can get. No rules, after all.
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When he recovers, he pulls her toward him once more.
Sorry, I never got the notif for this!
She almost smiles at it. Almost. Instead, the expression comes across as a determined grimace. If she can't get away from him, she'll try the opposite in a kick up, aiming her knee for his body, then reaching for a handful of hair.
That's been going around
He seems her grimace and knows she's not going to make this easy. He's okay with that, was counting on it, hoping for it. The kick catches him in the chest, and he grunts a little. He feels it enough it matters, but not enough to change anything.
The hair pulling throws him off a little. His expression alters. Softens. Bucky opens his mouth to suggest she not do that, but he closes it. He said anything. It's his own fault. But his hold on her might loosen just a little.
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Instead of scrambling immediately away, she movies toward him, curling into his space as she uses her grip on his hair to pull him down into hers so she can bring her teeth down on his neck. It's not a gentle bite, but she figures he can take that.
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It brought back the night in the club in bits and pieces, unintended reactions aside. He had to pull his body away from hers below the waist just to keep his reactions from being too obvious.
"I thought we were going to spar?" Bucky finally says, to let her know in the gentlest way possible something had gone askew. He had told her anything goes, but he can't ignore the side-effects.
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She fixes him with a look both playful and challenging, "You said anything goes. You think that doesn't mean biting and scratching if that's what it takes?"
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"I did. I need water." Bucky can't argue with her, but he can't continue, either. And from her tone, she knows exactly why, too. Not that he's going to admit it if she doesn't make him.
He's just going to get up and grab his water bottle right then, mind reeling. He had expected her to fight dirty. He hadn't expected his reactions.
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And it's not what she expected. Even after his reaction to having his hair pulled, she wasn't expecting to respond that strongly. Her intention had been to throw him off balance, to distract him—and it had worked.
A little too well.
"Should we update our rules?" she asks, glancing at him sideways. "For future matches."
Wind downish, handwave some more sparring? I can't think of what else to do with this one
"Yes. No biting." As for the hair, he'll just have to get his cut. He keeps meaning to, and Natasha was going to serve as a great reminder.
"How about a little bit more, then we get breakfast?"
winding down is good
Proof just how well it had worked.
"You can make me eggs for breakfast."
Teasing.
Re: winding down is good
"Because I lost?" Because he really did, and he knows it.
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We can probably wrap/handwave they did breakfast?
wrap it is