study_in_scarlet | Tearing Down the Walls (for cawcawbirdbrain)

Tearing Down the Walls (for cawcawbirdbrain)

The first few nights were the worst; that initial moment of panic when she awoke alone before remembering where she was and that Clint was thousands of miles away, the emptiness she felt not just in the bed but in her heart when he wasn’t near. Eventually that faded but with each passing day Natasha grew more worried about how he was holding up. How was he coping with the nightmares without her to sooth them away? Was he working himself too hard as a distraction?

More than any of that, though, was that unshakeable expectation that her phone would one day ring and she would be called back with those three words that made her blood run cold and still haunted her dreams.

Barton’s been compromised.

She couldn’t shake the fear, but worse than that was the realisation that the phone call never would come, even if something did happen to him. With Coulson gone, who else would know to call her? Who else knew how important Clint was to her? Sure, many people had their suspicions, but none of them knew for certain because she had never allowed it. She had been so insistent that they keep their relationship secret, and with each passing day it became harder and harder to remember why. Over the years he had become a very important part of her life, the best thing in her life, so why was it so hard to give herself over so completely? What was she so afraid of?

His last words to her ran through her mind constantly, the clear desperation in his voice making it clear that it was something he had been holding back for a long time. He loved her, and he didn’t say it expecting to hear it back, nor did he say it in some last ditch effort to get her to stay, or to stall her for a few more minutes. He said it because he felt it, because he meant it, and because he needed her to know how he felt. There was no manipulation behind the words, only truth.

And she had said nothing in return.

She could argue all she wanted with herself that there hadn’t been time, that the doors had closed and cut off any reply, but ultimately it was a lie. She could have stopped the lift, she could have gone back up or even called him. She could have been a few minutes late getting to the base, but she had just walked away like she always did. Now she couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop regretting it.

“...if something did happen and I didn’t say it I’d never forgive myself.” Those were the words that haunted her the most. She knew how he felt, now without question, but she kept her own feelings so guarded, kept them even from herself, that there was no way he could know. What if something happened to him while she was gone? Or to her? She had a lot of time to analyze her own feelings during this mission, but what if she never got to tell him? What if he never knew?

All these thoughts plagued her every waking hour so Natasha threw herself into the mission more than ever. She took more risks, pushed harder than normal. It was dangerous and she very well could have blown the entire mission, but it seemed that luck was on her side. The job was expected to take at least four months.

She finished in three and a half.

Every second felt like a full minute as she sat through her debriefing. Director Fury praised her speed even as he showed disapproval for her recklessness, but in the end it was a mission accomplished and a job well done.

Walking out of his office, Natasha made a beeline for the weapons range. She had asked Agent Hill about Barton’s status, her heart pounding in her chest, and had been beyond relieved to hear that he was currently on base, safe and sound. She could have called him the second the mission was over, but having finished so early she had hoped to surprise him. Of course it also played a factor that if she had called him and received no answer she wouldn’t have known how to handle that.

Stopping just outside the archery range, she took a deep breath. He wouldn’t be expecting her, and while she hadn’t done anything so drastic as shave her head or go blonde, she did look a little different. She hadn’t cut her hair since before their last conversation, and while it hadn’t grown that much in their time apart she had taken the time to straighten out the curls which gave the illusion of extra length. He would probably look just the same, she hoped he would, and after a moment’s pause she pushed the door open and walked in.

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"Yeah, a lot. But it worked out all right in the end." That's his own acknowledgement that he understood what she was trying to convey. And that it was okay, that he'd expected nothing less, but that it was fine, he dealt with it and came out the other side feeling better about everything.

He couldn't stop the groan that left his lips at the bite of her nails into his skin, until he pulled back slowly to steady himself up onto his knees, one hand reaching to clasp behind her neck to pull her up to meet him while he worked her shirt off quickly and took a moment to stare at her, eyes raising back up to meet hers with a coy smile on his face. "Yeah, I really, really missed this." It was like looking at a fine art print, so much so see that you could spend all day just staring.

He removed his hand from her neck, trailed fingers down her body, over her breasts until palms covered her and his lips found hers again and he thought he could die with how blissfully happy he felt, at how this woman made him feel.

Natasha nodded at his words and said no more; nothing more needed to be said. Over the years they had developed their own language, their own way of talking, that nobody around them could possibly understand. What sounded like a simple conversation to everyone else often held a hidden, deeper meaning. What they hadn’t said had still been clearly expressed and understood and could be put behind them.

The groaning only made her dig her nails in a little harder, filing away that reaction for later. He was always so patient, methodical and precise in the field, and she loved that she could make him lose control in any way, even if it was merely an involuntary noise.

Letting him pull her up to sit, she raised her arms over her head so he could easily remove her shirt. Placing her hands on the mattress behind her she leaned her weight back on them, not the least bit shy or embarrassed as his eyes traveled over her naked flesh. “Are you sure you didn’t just really, really miss these?” Natasha asked playfully, shimmying to make her breasts bounce.

She didn’t move as he almost reverently trailed his hands down her body, just watched the storm of desire in his eyes. She loved the feel of his calloused hands on her skin, somehow both rough and gentle at once, and only when he captured her lips again with his did she shift her weight to one arm and allow herself to touch him again, fingers teasing the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

She was terrible to him, horrible and such a tease and yet he loved it, loved that she had that effect on him , loved that she was able to keep him interested. Not that he had any plans on being uninterested, not now he'd managed to somehow get her to admit how she felt. Although he was pretty sure he wouldn't have ever grown tired of her anyway.

His eyebrow perked as she moved and he watched, almost mesmerized, hell if it was appropriate to drool he would but that movement gave him the opposite effect considering his mouth had gone completely dry.

"Oh wait, I missed those. Can we just agree that I missed every inch of you, from every strand of your hair to the tips of your toes?" But yeah no, he really did miss her assets, and he made that very apparent after breaking the kiss and leaning down to well, show her assets just how much he'd missed them.

And boy had he missed them.

The expression on his face was a clear victory and Natasha grinned wickedly even though his wouldn’t see it with his attention fixed elsewhere. “Hmm, alright, agreed,” running her fingers up through his hair as he moved lower. “And I missed your hands and your lips and...” her words were cut off by a low moan and her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him against her. “...your tongue...”

She had missed everything about him: his smile, his voice, the way he made her feel. She missed sleeping on top of him like a blanket, his breathing and heartbeat lulling her better than any man made concoction could. She missed his inane commentary during movies, his cooking and how gentle he was when he washed her hair. She missed the comfort of his voice in her ear on missions, knowing he had her back even if she couldn’t see him. She missed watching him shoot, his perfect stance and the way all his muscles grew taut as he drew back the arrow with that fucking sexy archery glove. She missed his stupid jokes, his obvious adoration, and his unshakeable faith in her.

She missed everything that made Clint Barton who he was, but what she said was “I missed every inch of you too,” as she slid her hand down cup the front of his trousers.

There was nothing better she could have said then to repeat his own words back to him. It was better than hearing her list things, it was better than watching her roll eyes over him. He literally wanted to throw himself at the feet of the powers that be and thank them for bringing this woman into his life.

Although the powers that be would mean he'd have to bow down in front of Fury and well, Clint was still pissed at him for this deep cover shit in the first place.

He lifted up, looking down between them to where her hand sat and raised eyes up to her. "Is my reacquaintance with my favourite pair of breasts in the world boring you?" He was joking, of course he was joking, evident with that stupid grin that played on his lips, even if he cocked his hips into her hand and let her feel just what she did to him. As if she wasn't already fully aware.

Oh well, just in case she'd forgotten.

"What you want Tasha?"

Natasha drew her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked down at him in a rather alluring manner. “Never,” she said, trying to hold back her own grin. Of course when he moved against her hand she took it as an invitation to give him a squeeze that was just on the cusp of being not so gentle. “Just as long as you weren’t acquainting yourself with any others while you were missing this pair.”

Of course she didn’t mean it seriously... mostly. Even though she had felt a twinge of jealousy back at the base when she had seen him with that blonde agent she knew he would never cheat on her, although things had been rather strained between them. Could she really blame him if he had after she had walked away from his confession? Well, of course she could. It might have been understandable that he could want to end things thinking she didn’t feel the same about him, but they hadn’t ended things and... now she was just thinking too much. Besides, he had asked her a rather important question that had only one simple answer.

“You,” she replied. Moving her weight off her hand she wrapped it around the back of his head and pulled his lips down to meet hers again. Part of her wanted to skip all the foreplay and just get down to it, months of tension begging to be released, but there was another part that wanted to prolong it, to let him do whatever he wanted to her and see how long he could hold out.

The groan that left his lips could be classed as obscene, but considering he hadn't felt her touch for just over three months it was really no surprise. Although his eyebrow did perk and he did stare at her for a moment at her words.

"Two months in and I tried. Ended up at this dive, just kept driving until I found it. Got cold feet after one drink before anything even happened and left when she went to the bathroom. Just kept thinking about this red head I know who I couldn't get out my head." He's honest, completely honest with her because he wouldn't hold back any secrets.

"Thought it might help, it didn't. I came back here bored, angry and upset but still loving you. Couldn't replace you, didn't want to. Even if you came back and told me you didn't love me... I still couldn't have kept away."

He's glad she's kissing him, because he's an idiot and she's perfect and amazing and if he'd have gave in at that dive of a bar where the whiskey was watered down he would never have forgiven himself.

He presses into her, hands reaching everywhere all at once, but he slows it. He's not terribly keen on the idea of prolonging his own agony, he'd rather save the exploration for later but he still traces fingers down her stomach and slips them into her bottoms. It's apparent she's ready so maybe foreplay isn't what either of them need right now.

He still breaks the kiss, sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and grazes teeth along it. "Do you want me go down on you Tasha? Or do you just want to feel me? Because this is all for you, whatever you want me to do.."

It hurt to hear it, both because he had even considered it and because it had gotten that bad for him. They hadn’t parted on a good note so she certainly wouldn’t have been blameless had he actually gone through with it, but she was definitely grateful he hadn’t.

Above everything else, though, she appreciated his honesty. Natasha’s entire life had been filled with lies and she had come to believe that she hadn’t met an honest man in her life until she had met Clint. She wished she could be so forthcoming but while she wasn’t always completely honest, she didn’t lie to him either. She was working on it at the very least, it would just take more time.

She didn’t know what to say to his confession so she said nothing and just kissed him harder, deeper, her arms wrapping around him to hold him tighter. Her stomach muscles tightened as his fingers passed over her skin and dipped lower, sliding under the waistband of her shorts and gauging her readiness.

Any idea she had of drawing this out was shot down by his words, his absolute surrender to her and willingness to do whatever she wanted, not to mention what he was doing with her lip. Again the answer was simple: she just wanted him. Sliding her hands down his back she started pushing at his trousers, pushing them down over his hips. “I want all of you. Now.”

That was a main fault of Clint's, he didn't seem to know when to stop talking and how much information to divulge. Although he could be open and honest around her, and he'd rather tell her tales of bad whiskey and even worse ideas then keep it a secret and bury it away, sooner or later all those lies and secrets ended up coming out into the open anyway, and further down the line it probably wouldn't have ended up being so smooth.

It didn't matter that she kept secrets, a lot of those were from a time before them, he could forgive her for not telling him details of her past because he wasn't sure how he'd take it, whether it would internally make him angry and force him to do something ridiculous like pull up files or if he'd just end up mollycoddling her more.

The kiss sent a shudder rolling down his spine, groaning into her mouth, vibrating against her tongue but it broke quickly in a flurry of movement with her trying to rid him of his pants. "Greedy and impatient..." He wasn't really berating her, in fact he wasn't even fussed that she was impatient, instead he simply moved off of her to rid himself of his pants and boxers, kicking them off and throwing them away, a hand slipping down to palm himself slowly. "Take your shorts off.."

When he groaned into the kiss it made her stomach clench and her arousal deepen. His words were met with a glare, but it was only half-hearted as he was already pulling back to rid himself of any remaining clothing. “It’s been a long time,” she reminded him, though she was sure he didn’t need the reminder.

Her eyes traveled down over his body, more defined and sculpted than she remembered, before lingering on his hand as he touched himself. Tearing her gaze away when he spoke, his words more an order than a request, she met his gaze, a smirk curling up one corner of her lips. Pressing her heels and shoulders into the mattress she pushed her hips up enough to slide her shorts down before falling back to the bed. Stretching her legs straight up in the air, she pulled the last offending scrap of clothing off over her feet and tossed them aside. Lowering her feet back down to the mattress again, she kept her knees together and peered up over them at him, raising an eyebrow as if asking what he wanted next. It took a lot of self control when what she really wanted to do was pull him down on the bed and ride him so hard he forgot the past few months had even happened.

"Yeah, a long time," transfixed on her as she removed her bottoms, eyebrow perking as she effectively hid herself away. Clint leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her knee, then the other, peering at her and holding her gaze. This wasn't going to be some sweet homecoming, that had gone out of the window as soon as they'd started down is path. They'd spent so long apart that Clint wouldn't say no to her riding him until his eyes rolled back.

Words caught in his throat as both his hands reached up to slide along her legs, parting them easily and pitching forward, lips finding hers, making himself comfortable back between her legs. It was still easy, this was still easy. They can slip back into these roles perfectly much like they could slip back into being partners after solo missions.

Lips break from hers, dipping down to her neck, lips at her ear, "Ride me?"

She watched him closely as he gently kissed her knees, and when he slid his hands up her legs and pushed them apart she didn’t resist, just opened herself up to him readily. She was practically reaching for him when he finally positioned himself on top of her again, her arms winding around him quickly and pulling him close as she kissed him hungrily.

She had never wanted a man more in her life than she wanted him, and she swore he was like an addiction. These past few months had been torture, and finally having him back again, naked and wanting her, she wanted to obliterate any space between them, to feel his hands all over her, to feel him inside of her, filling her up and making her feel whole again.

His question made her suck in a breath, more because he had formed it as a question instead of a want. She didn’t waste time in answering, instead smoothly rolling them over so she was now straddling him. Trailing kisses down his neck and chest, she stopped to twirl her tongue around his nipple while pressing herself against him and sliding up along his length. She was already slick and wet, and she could feel how hard he was, but she still looked up at him and grinned, placing her hands on his chest and pushing herself up. “Are you ready for me?” she asked with a wicked smile, her nails digging slightly into his chest.

The feeling was mutual, of course it was. Clint was no stranger to relationships or sex, he'd grown up in a god damn circus for one where it was always easy to boast about your skills and watch the girls swoon, then after leaving he gathered more random one night stands all around the world, yet here he was and there was obviously no one else he'd rather have.

He rolled with her, reached for another pillow to prop himself up so he could see her better, hands pushing her hair away so he could watch what she was doing, sucking a breath in at her lips and tongue and when she sat up at her nails which bit into his chest. "You know I'm ready, should be obvious." Hands dropped to her hips, rocking her against him slowly. "Don't drag this out Tasha, we've waited long enough."

Edited 2013-06-16 01:40 (UTC)

She chuckled at his words, though it trailed off into a moan when he grabbed her hips and rocked her against him. “Now who is impatient,” she teased, but already she was moving, sliding one hand down to press against his stomach as she pushed herself up to her knees. She wanted him just as bad, and while it was always tempting to play with him a little it would only be torturing herself as well. For far too long they had been apart, and it had been even more emotionally difficult this time than physically.

She needed this, they both did, and when she wrapped her hand around him and positioned herself above, she wasted no more time before sinking down around him, drawing him in as deeply as she could and letting out a long, drawn out sigh as she did so, like she finally felt complete and whole again. “God, you feel good,” she breathed, rotating her hips just slightly as she adjusted to his girth.

Fingers dug into her hips, breath stuttering as she moved, hands sliding up her sides. "You have no idea..." Home, that's how she felt, warm, safe and comfortable. He waited for her, stroked hands up and down her sides, giving her time to adjust, after all, it had been too long since they were like this, since they got to connect together.

He pushed himself up far enough to wrap a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down with him to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and biting it softly. "You all right?" Confirmation, before he started moving, because even though she was on top he wasn't about to sit back and do nothing.

She kissed him back, actually giggling a little when he nipped at her bottom lip, or as close to giggling as Natasha Romanoff could get. She felt incredible, more carefree than she had in months, maybe even as long as she could remember.

“More than alright,” she said against his lips before drawing him into another kiss as she started to move, raising her hips before lowering over him again.

The giggle made him grin, lazy and only half focused, but to see her like this was one thing, to experience it after everything was something else entirely. It cemented the decision, it made the last few months seem worth the wait to see her like this, to see the look in her eyes.

He held her close,hands tangled in her hair holding her lips close to him as he breathed and breathed and caught her lips back in return while she moved.

She felt so good, more than home, everything he'd ever wanted and more, everything he'd thought he'd lost over the years, his. He groaned, shifted hips up to meet hers, smiled slightly against her lips.

They were so close they were practically occupying the same space, breathing each other in. Even when the kiss was broken their lips never completely parted, still brushing together with each breath, each smile. For quite some time now the sex had been becoming more intimate, but this felt different altogether with no hangups, no fears or regrets holding them back. It was freeing, almost liberating in a way. It was perfect.

Swallowing his groan she rocked harder against him, her pace increasing as he moved to meet her.

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Tearing Down the Walls (for cawcawbirdbrain)

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