Title: Unmade Pairing: Black Widow/Hawk Eye
Series: Avengers Assemble
Rating: 18 Type: Alternate/Bondage
Summary: Clint Barton has been broken; he has been unmade. He has one, loyal and true friend who wants to help him... who has always been there; Black Widow has red in her ledger and she's going to help him through this crisis. Has his treatment and brainwashing at the hands of the enemy finally helped Hawkeye see that sometimes what you need to fix yourself has been in front of you from the start?
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the MARVEL comic characters or anything from the universe of MARVEL. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to MARVEL comics for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.
()()()()()
Do you know what it's like to be unmade, he had asked her.
Natasha knew.
Infirmary cubicle 31F didn't feel like such a prison now that her friend was returned to her. She had released him from the restraints he had been strapped into; director Fury would have probably disapproved and insisted she wait for confirmation that Haweye's condition had stabilised.
But she had all the proof she needed; it was in his eyes.
She knew the man's expressions and inflections so well that she knew the worst was behind them. What he needed now was comfort and understanding – perhaps a good dose of revenge…
"Do you know what it's like to be unmade?"
She paused, wondering how much to say to articulate her understanding… to demonstrate how much she knew he needed something… anything… an anchor to hold on to or a pressure point that needed release…
She knew which one she would choose in his situation…
"You know that I do…"
She watched him process her words; his eyes beginning to focus more.
Barton shook his head… "Why am I back?" He asked in confusion, "How'd you get him out?"
She wondered about telling him the truth… that she would not let the medics take him out of her site… Black Widow figured it would just make things awkward…
"Cognitive recalibration," she explained, smirking at his raised brow before confirming, "I hit you really hard in the head."
She watched his smile, gratified to see it… wanting to be closer to the man – knowing the space between them was too much…
The Black Widow found herself sat next to her friend as he looked up to her and thanked her for saving him.
She would always save him… if she could. He was her friend. That meant something.
Reaching for the buckles on the restraints she began to release him before he stirred.
"How many agents…"
"Don't…" she interrupted, instinctively. "Don't do that to yourself Clint…" The use of his name got his attention and she couldn't regret the moment of vulnerability… "This is Loki…" she heard herself saying as he listened, "This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for."
It didn't help.
"Loki…" he asked, not looking at her as the restraints fell away from his hands, "did he get away?"
The Black Widow watched her friend's expression… hatred and guilt playing across his face; she sobered, knowing who was responsible, "We gotta stop him."
Barton swallowed a mouthful of water and rose a brow, "Yeah? Who's we?"
She shrugged, "I don't know…" it was crazy… she had to admit it, "whoever's left."
Hawkeye shrugged, lifting his canteen back to his lips, "Well if I put an arrow through Lokis eye socket I'd sleep better, I suppose…"
The doom lifted a moment and she smiled, "Now you sound like you."
He huffed, "You don't."
He was right; her smile faded.
"You're a spy," he continued, "not a soldier…now you want to wade into a war. Why?"
She was next to him now… sat on the medical gurney… when did that happen?
"What did Loki do to you?"
There was a question… The Black Widow blinked and tried to lie… "He didn't – I just…"
She heard it in his intonation, "Natasha…"
Fine. It was because Loki had gone after Barton… that was the reason she wanted to see the ancient-god dead. The man beside her meant more to her than she was comfortable admitting… and as she turned to him, prepared to explain all of this, she noticed the look in his eye and recalled her fear of losing him… "I've been compromised…" she found herself saying by way of rationalisation; she felt him tense and realised he didn't want her explaining how she felt about him… so she chose another way to explain…
"I got red in my ledger," she continued, hoping to mask her momentary lapse of emotion. Her eyes met his, "I'd like to wipe it out."
Bartons eyes softened again; he regarded her a moment and then he sighed.
She hated it when he did that; it was soft. It denoted his favour and she couldn't pretend that all she felt for him was professional… There was more to the Black Widow and Hawkeye than even she cared to admit.
"We might not all make it out of this…" She heard him saying.
"We've made it out of worse situations…"
"When?"
She looked to him, slightly confused, "I don't know… it's what you're supposed to say."
He huffed, "I'm being serious…"
Natasha was suddenly on her feet and across the room, switching on the air conditioning and checking the hall for any officers patrolling; there were none, everyone was making repairs to the ship…
He was behind her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, "Natasha…"
"We tried this already, Barton..." The Black Widow warned. "Back when you first recruited me."
It was true; he had been attracted to the young spy he had tracked across Russia those few years ago. But a lot had changed since then. She had changed; for the better. It hadn't dulled his feeling but the warning made him hesitate.
Natasha was a good ally, an excellent partner and a close friend.
What was he doing?
Perhaps she had taken the cognitive recalibration a little too far... he shook his head and backed away. It wasn't the time to complicate their relationship. They both needed focus.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Must have hit me harder than you let on… I just got all this pent up…" Hawkeye looked to the Black Widow. "It would be a shame to check out without having addressed…" She was still looking at him with a question in her eye… "Never mind."
He slumped on the gurney, not sure what he had been trying to prove… or to whom
Black Widow continued to regard him…
It had been years since she had even considered the possibility of a mutual release... she had thought he had never truly been interested until now; thought how close they were and the attraction between them was the simple pull of camaraderie.
Barton had been her senior officer. He had been a friend when there was no other that seemed to understand her viewpoint; she valued that.
The blinds to the medical bay closed.
She was about to do something crazy… but it was ok… because it was him…
Natasha approached him with some hesitation; not really certain that her next actions were wise. Sex seemed something that would only complicate matters, after all. It's why, after all these years, it was a topic neither of them had broached.
Placing herself between his open legs, Natasha looked down on him; sat on the medical gurney, gazing up at her; his eyes seemed full of question as she bent to him, placing a knee either side of his and pushing herself up on the gurney. Straddling and suppressing her prey, the Black Widow took a moment to see the shock filter through his understanding before she allowed herself this weakness and pressed her lips against his.
This was a little moment of madness… but she was committed and Natasha Romanov didn't turn back.
Feeling his hesitation, she gently caressed his top and then his bottom lip before allowing her tongue to trace between them, asking permission...
And he gave, opening his mouth to allow her a deeper access, as their bodies slipped closer and his strong arms moved up to lock her into the embrace.
Natasha held back a hiss as she felt their bodies slip into an easy lock; her legs resting over his, their pelvises bending to one other as Barton gave a gruff acknowledgement and arched up to meet the contact, locking his arms behind the base of her back and pushing them together again.
She pressed into his mouth with her tongue, her hands clawing up and into his scalp as he gave another grunt and she allowed a small reward by swirling her body down on his, feeling the tightening skin within her unitard brush against his own taught flesh…
And behind the momentary thought that this should be the point when they came to their senses and released each other, neither seemed willing as their bodies crashed together again and Barton pushed a wide hand up the curve of her spine to rest between her shoulder blades, urging her down to him and further into his mouth as she consumed him, sucking and swirling her tongue about his; breaking to pull back and catch his lower lip with her teeth.
He hissed and she grinned, feeling the power she had over him fan the flames within her…
Then he reached up and pressed her back into his own body, lightly trailing his fingers up and down her spine as she gasped… God she loved his hands; they were large and smooth with oval nails that she felt running over her back so very lightly…
She felt a swell.
And as quickly as she had allowed herself to become distracted had he taken advantage.
Barton stood, lifting her onto his body and shifting so she landed with the flat of her back on the gurney and he was over her…
Secretly, she was elated. Years of building a cold and commanding exterior crumbled as this man beneath her spread his hand against the heated curve of her lower spine lifting her toward him so she could lock her thighs over his hips and keep them close enough to feel the heat and excitement through the fabric of their uniforms.
Natasha angled her head, looking at the gurney she now rested on, "This is like Budapest all over again," she teased.
He snorted and leaned down toward her, "You and I remember Budapest very differently…" he admitted, moving his hands to hold her wrists above her head and taking the zip of her top in his teeth to pull it downward.
She shivered, feeling a chill from the air conditioning, "Perhaps there are a few differences…"
Barton came back into view, nuzzling and pressing kisses into the exposed skin, nosing the fabric that covered her breasts from one side to the other to deliver smaller nips as his passes grew wider and closer to disrobing her entirely.
She squirmed; enjoying the sensation of his lips on her flesh… But the Black Widow was limber and grew restless, making to scissor his strong body between her legs.
Hawkeye caught the move and easily flicked the limbs over his shoulders, giving him better access to her exposed naval.
The kiss he delivered made her writhe, as he quickly peppered kisses lower and grazed his teeth across her waistline, halting at the fastening of her trousers.
Natasha snorted with impatience, tearing her hands from his to grasp his hair and pull him upward, smashing their lips together and flipping them over so quickly the gurney shook.
"You're wearing too many clothes…" she complained, hearing him laugh as she pressed her slender fingers beneath his top and rolled it up, over his muscular chest, hardening nipples and pausing as the material caught around his arms and head… restraining him, blinding him and exposing his neck…
Natasha smiled at the prospect.
She bent to place a kiss on his pulse point, feeling him inhale in a sharp breath; his body going rigid beneath her as she moved her tongue in slow circles, ending each rotation with a nip of her teeth before travelling a fraction and beginning the process again.
Barton juddered.
"Don't forget to breathe…" she reminded…
"You noticed I had stopped, then?"
Natasha smiled, releasing him so he could free himself…
He took the moment to push them upward, so that he sat beneath her and wrenched her top down her arms to expose her entirely to him and she felt her heart jolt in her chest.
"If you don't mind…" he explained, "I've been a little too much out of control lately…"
She smiled, pressing her breasts against his chest and enjoying the feeling, "I don't mind."
After a flash of panic, his eyes flicked to their tightly pressed flesh and he smiled, "You're sure?"
"Clint," she sighed, "The door is locked and there are leather straps on this thing… best to restrain me now before I change my mind…"
His eyes widened; she was serious.
To her delight, he needed no more prompting as Hawkeye gathered her up and into another exploratory kiss, dragging her smooth, rounded chest across the rougher skin of his own muscular frame.
She felt the motion spark though her like a match being struck… felt his response as their skin pressed tighter together…
"Barton," she warned, doing her best to control herself, "If you want to control this, you had better act now…" she didn't think she had the strength to resist much longer…
Thankfully, he made his move, pressing them together to preserve the heat between them, as he shifted her round and lay her back on the gurney; taking the restraints and threading the buckles round her wrists.
He hesitated.
"Don't be gentle with me now, Barton…"
The look in his eye cooled and he moved forward in a rush, kissing her deeply and bringing his big, soft hands up to cup her breasts, rolling them and feeling their swell…
Her heart began to pound again, as his lips moved to caress her throat and continued downward to join his hands, spreading his fingers to release her nipples and taking one into his mouth as the hardening flesh responded to him.
She grit her teeth, feeling his deep kiss moisten her; trying to stop the reactive clench of her thighs that drove them closer…
"You're wearing too many clothes," she complained again, through gritted teeth.
"Working on it," he intoned, moving his attentions lower down her body, slipping his tongue back to her naval and moving her legs from his hips and laying her on the gurney.
Natasha had never been patient, but found the virtue rewarded as Bartons fingers finally found the clasp of her trousers and finally pulled the damned things away before repositioning himself and lifting her legs over his shoulders.
He smiled at her.
Just get on with it!
She repressed the urge to use her thighs to force his attention where she wanted it and trusted he would get there in time…
Clint just kept smiling… "Tell me what you want, Natasha…"
Biting back a sigh, Black Widow groaned, "Thought that was obvious…" giving a clench of her muscles that drew his eyes to her.
She had his full attention; so much so that he subconsciously ran his tongue across his lips. The motion alone almost made her shake with lust.
How had she never registered the strength of desire they had shared before? His wide hands lifted her to him and she felt the air hitch in her lungs as his thumb moved her panties to one side.
The first trace of his tongue made her strain against the leather straps that bound her hands as her muscles tightened, flattening her legs against his back and shoving him closer to her as he continued his searching caress…
Each brush, each stroke made her pulse as the pace quickened and Barton took her weight on his shoulders, freeing his hand to trace her lower back, round her hip, up her naval and back to her breast.
She had never felt her heart race quite so fast.
It wasn't in her nature to romanticise sex; but when he was doing that with his tongue and quite so deeply… If she hadn't been tied down or held quite so tightly she would have wondered how she wasn't floating.
"God, Natasha," he mumbled around her, "you're so hot…" he gave a little suck, "and wet…" she clenched her teeth and felt a judder as he delivered a small bite to her inner thigh, "You taste amazing."
If she believed in a deity, she may have cried out; instead, she came in a mass of shudders and gasps, feeling the heat rolling through her as Barton drew back.
He gave a lazy, proud, contented smile as he removed her legs from his neck and placed them either side of his knees before shifting on the gurney to give himself a better view of his work.
She cooled…
"What?" He asked, acknowledging the look in her eye…
"Now," she said, propping herself up on her elbows to regard him.
He smiled again, swiping the pad of his thumb across his lip and admitting, "I had a few other things planned…"
"Now," she insisted, looking to his groin.
Barton grinned, "Impatient?"
She glared at him, bringing her foot to his crotch and giving the area a rough swipe against the arousal he was restraining.
He whimpered; she didn't need hands after all.
Locking her right leg about his back, she pulled him forward, playing her left instep across him as he shifted and moved his hands to take her foot, massaging the muscle and kissing her toes.
"Barton," she warned, feeling heavy…
Hawkeye laughed, placing her foot down and moving to the fastening of his trousers; all she needed was the button undone as she kicked him back, intent on wrenching his clothing down.
He was laughing and moving helping her cause, folding down the fabric and freeing himself of constraint.
She felt her mouth dry as she swelled; why was he hesitating now?!
Barton crawled over her and she craned up to graze her tight skin against his own; he gave a hiss… "About ready to blow here, Tasha… don't want to set me off before the main event…"
"Then get on with it!" She ordered, squirming beneath him to align their bodies…
Barton positioned himself before her, looking into her eyes and pausing, maddeningly close to completion…
Through the frustration, she understood… this was it.
He kissed her then; deep and filled with passion, as his hips twisted and he entered her in a fluid motion, forcing the air from her lungs and into his own.
He was deep and tight within her, so when she opened her eyes, feeling the hum of their joined flesh, Natasha was surprised to see Clint was looking down at her again.
She held her breath and he moved, making her spark and arch toward him as the long pull outward was overtaken by an equalising pressure of his weight settling back within her… then only to be gone again…
Natasha gasped at each moment as Clint clenched his jaw; grunting and sighing about her heat and how it felt to be so tightly held inside her, how readily she had responded to him and how much he wanted to go deeper…
And she wanted that too, as she surrendered to the sensation of being controlled by nothing more than instinct; nothing more than want for this man…
He grunted, trying to restrain himself as he began to move in a swirl, slipping their bodies heatedly together and coldly apart in waves.
If Natasha thought that their joining would dull her want for this man, she was mistaken and her thighs clenched around his hips, urging him deeper, wanting to devour him entirely as she craned and let their lips meet once more.
"Clint..." Natasha had sighed this man's name many times in the darkness of the night, but feeling the heat of him, drinking the scent of him, sharing the passion that was his... was sweet as she swelled beneath and around him.
"Oh God, Tasha," he heaved, quickening his pace and crashing them together.
She felt her body take over, meeting his pace with a desperate hunger; not wanting to lose an inch of the man.
"Tasha…" he tried again as her pulse around him tightened.
Clint picked up his pace, "Tasha…"
Tighter still…
Her name became a chant that led them both over the edge as he came in a great surge; every millimetre of her ignited, sparking her own explosion.
()()()()
Natasha finished cleaning herself in the medical unit's en suite and brushed her tousled hair back.
She felt good; energised and ready for action.
Clint entered the small space, fastening his trousers… "Natasha…"
"Don't," she stopped him. She really didn't have the time to analyse anything or wonder about how their relationship may have changed.
He looked a little confused, but remained silent as she passed him.
"We're good," she said by way of explanation.
Suddenly, Captain America entered the facility and Natasha held her breath... she was certain she had locked that door...
He was asked about flying a plane... and, luckily for her, Barton chose that moment to emerge from the wash space and confirm he was able and willing to rush head-long into a suicide mission.
The Captain gave her a questioning look and she confirmed Bartons loyalty with a nod… then the soldier was gone and she looked back to her comrade.
"What now?" He asked, throwing the hand towel he had been using into the wash room.
Natasha frowned, "What do you mean?"
He moved to place a hand on her hip; but she turned away… "We really could die out there…"
"Don't get clingy, Clint."
Barton frowned slightly, "You're ok with this?"
She shook her head; men could be so emotional. "You aren't?"
He remained silent.
Natasha allowed her wall to drop a little and moved into his eye line, "It was nice… better than nice… and now it's done."
He watched her, "Until next time?"
She smiled, after all – where was the harm? "Sure. Until next time."
He didn't seem convinced.
"Come on…" she said with a wink, "Let's go kill something…"
Hawkeye smiled, "Second-best offer I've had all day," he admitted and followed her out of the medical bay.
Natasha grinned to herself… if they survived this – there would be a next time.