I've never seen anyone talk about how traumatic the events of the first avengers film must have been for Natasha. So I felt it was only fitting that I (try) and make a fanfic about it. Hope you enjoy!

Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff are one. They are two peas in a pod, joined at the hip. Best friends. Lovers. They are the type of people who could walk into a room and immediately stun everyone into silence. However not openly affectionate around people, these two always find a way to reassure each other in large crowds, whether it may be a slight squeeze of a hand, or a wink and a smile sent from across the room.

When they are alone, though, Clint and Natasha are the most caring, loving and affectionate people you will meet. Both of them grew up without the comforting presence and firm hugs of a mother and a father. They were both extremely touch starved when they met each other. It took a year and a half for Natasha to fully warm up to Clint and one day, after having a particularly jarring mission, they arrived back at the safe house and their relationship shifted forever. Clint went and sat down on a couch and turned the television on, while Natasha went to take a shower. When she came out only covered by lacy scraps of underwear and with her curly hair brushing the top of her shoulders, she took note of Clint, resting comfortably against the couch, his head hung back and his eyes closed.

While she was examining him, Natasha had a sudden urge to walk over and wrap herself around him. She wanted to feel close to him. The man radiates warmth and comfort, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in his lap and have him hold her for days on end, never letting go.

So she did. Natasha walked slowly up to Clint, her brow creasing with anxiety. Anxiety that he might push her away in disgust and ridicule her for even getting close to him. She slammed her eyes shut, concentrating on slowing her breathing. After a few deep exhales, she opened her eyes. Clint was still in the same position, although his head had lolled to the side a little. Gradually, Natasha gathered the courage to finish crossing the distance between them and straddled his lap. She sat down on his thighs gently, and Clint stirred. Natasha froze, her eyes wide.

"Tasha?" Clint's face was twisted with confusion. He lifted his head up. "What are you doing?"

"I.." Natasha hadn't prepared for this. She opened her mouth then closed it again, before dropping her head. "I wanted to hug you." She mumbled, embarrassed she had been caught in the act. There was a moment of silence, and Natasha began to get up.

"Natasha," said Clint. He grabbed her arms with his hands and pulled her back onto his lap. He grabbed her chin and lifted it up so they were face to face. He didn't say anything, just gazed into her eyes, his own soft. He let go of her chin and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer than she was before.

Natasha melted. She let herself be pulled into his chest and surrounded his neck with one of her arms. Her fingers were drawing silly patterns on the nape of his neck, and he shuddered gently at the feeling of her nails scraping his skin.

Clint rested his head on top of hers, and she closed her eyes at the relaxing feeling of his body pressed against hers. His chest was firm and warm, and his stomach was soft and comforting. Her other hand grazed up and down one of his arms, and it moved to grab her hip, making it easier for her to access. Natasha could feel all the muscles in his arms, the softness of his skin. She would be lying if she said she hadn't been staring at his arms ever since they met. They were a fantasy of hers, something she always longed to touch and savour, but never had the chance until now. Clint's hands were also a frequent character in her fantasies, especially with his shooting gloves on. Natasha's fantasises involved licking his arms up and down and sucking his fingers into her mouth one by one while he watched, but she was getting ahead of herself.

Natasha let herself enjoy the hug, and she soon fell asleep to the comforting beat of Clint's heart.