Title: Not an addict
Author: Sofia B.
Category: Avengers
Pairing: Natasha & Clint
Rating: T to M (drug use and sexual situations)
Summary: Thought the battle is over, not even Clint in bed with her can make her feel better.

Note: Based on a song by K's Choice. Emotional and full of anguish.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Jeremy Renner a.k.a. the hawk would be tied to my bed forever and ever, and obviously he is not (or is he?)

Breathe it in and breathe it out

And pass it on, it's almost out

We're so creative, so much more

We're high above but on the floor

Her breath caught in her throat as his lips continued placing feather soft kisses around her stomach. Soft, sensual, light, his movements were slow. Hands roaming down her thighs, softly caressing the bruises that still had not faded. Nipping at her skin, he continued his kisses downward, following the heat that was escaping her body.

Her hands tangled in his hair, trying to restrain herself from forcibly shoving him down to where exactly she desired him. She wasn't patient, that much he knew. But he was a hawk, he was ever patient and ever content on giving her pleasure, even if it took him all night. "Please." It came out as a raspy whispered plea for mercy. A little smirk formed at the corner of his lips. He finally went to places left unattended for far too long.

At the first swipe of his tongue, Clint moaned as loud as Natasha did. Back arched, her head fell back, and she hissed and moaned in pleasure as he kept lapping at her. His strong arms kept her thighs from wrapping around his face to suffocate him, while his mouth continued skillfully at pleasuring the woman beneath him.

She was climaxing quickly and her body shuddered hard as she came all over his face, his mouth swallowing as much as he could gather. She tasted divine, as sweet as the last time he tasted her, which was far too long ago. Before she catch her breath again, he took it away from her in a searing hard kiss. His kiss was rough, needy, desperate for her. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. His skillful arms wrapped around her waist to position himself directly between her legs. And then he plunged directly into her, knowing it was exactly what she wanted.

It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive

If you don't have it you're on the other side

Her screams of passion were partially silenced, muffled by his mouth as he swallowed them. The hard and rough thrusting of his hips mirrored the desperate need they had for each other. The desire for each other had never been this strong. There missions were getting harder and more dangerous, and they were closer to death than they realistically realized. She was closer to death with each mission. He had therefor made it his own mission to remind her just how much he wanted her, needed her, desired her, lusted for her.

Her muscles were tensing, and he knew that she was going to orgasm soon. Luscious red curls sprawled all over the pillow, tanned skin in a heated glow, muscles spasming at his actions, she soul was bared to him, all his for the taking. Incoherent Russian pleas fell from her lips between her ragged breaths. Burying his face in her neck, he continued to plunge relentlessly into her, wanting to fill her, all of her, with him.

Determined to not let him have the complete upper hand, she flipped him over and he was now laid flat on his back, with the lovely Russian now straddling his hips. Though the room was dark, the light of the moon glaring through the window made her completely visible to him. Usually perfect curls were now damp and clinging to the outline of her face. Her face was flushed, and her lips were swollen from the torture his own mouth was putting on her earlier. Skin damp and sticky from the sweat their activities, the sight was complete perfection to him.

Before she could move, Clint sat up and grabbed her face. Kissing her roughly once more, he forced her body down the length of him, an action that was responded with a sharp cry of ecstasy. She rode him hard into another orgasm of her own, before he finally followed her into oblivion. They held each other tightly against one another through their ragged breathing, their heartbeats rapid against each other's skin.

"My god you are amazing," Clint whispered into her shoulder, kissing it softly between each word. She smiled softly, letting him pull her down to lay down on the bed.

The deeper you stick it in your vein

The deeper the thoughts, there's no more pain

I'm in heaven, I'm a god

I'm everywhere, I feel so hot

She couldn't sleep.

She tried, she pretended, almost fooled herself into believing that she had been sleeping.

But she didn't.

Her nights consisted of her staring up at the ceiling, calculating down to the second how much sleep she will get if she fell asleep at that exact moment. But sleep never came. It calmed her enough to have her love laying next to her. Curled up to his side, Natasha partially laid her head on the arm that Clint had wrapped around her shoulder. The other arm laid protectively over her stomach, presumably to shield her from whatever dared harm her in the dead of night, if only from her own nightmares.

Clint knew she wasn't sleeping. He knew something was weighing heavy on her heart to a point where nightmares would invade the little slumber she did get. It bothered him that he couldn't seem to help her more. But he also knew not to push her. If she needed help she would ask. Until then, his arms and kisses would have to suffice.

"Can you keep a secret?" The heat of the whispered question against her temple brought her out of her daze. She smiled lazily at him.

"For you, of course." Her reply was just as soft, just as sincere. She was after all, his secret keeper. All of his secrets were kept under lock and key in her heart, the heart that belonged to him.

"I love you," he whispered, a kiss laid in her hair.

It's over now, I'm cold, alone

I'm just a person on my own

Nothing means a thing to me

Clint had long fallen asleep. It was then that Natasha decided to slip out of bed and head to kitchen.

Tea, tea would make her feel better.

Despite all the flashy-ness that is Tony Stark, the newly renovated Avengers Tower was dark, practically looking abandoned at the dead of night. They had settled into their new home for quite a few months now. Truth be told, it had brought them closer, much closer than just coworkers in the field. It was almost like they were family.

Pepper was definitely the mother, that's for sure.

It was just after 3 a.m. and thankfully the kitchen was abandoned. As she had done many nights before, she made herself a cup of chamomile tea. Urban legend has it that chamomile would bring on sleep, deep sleep. To her, it had proven to be just a myth, but the taste suited her enough to continue the charade of hope.

JARVIS had greeted her softly and offered up some soft music to help. She accepted, not wanting to argue with electronics. She wasn't sure where to kick him to shut him up.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up. The exhaustion was getting heavier. The dark bags under her eyes were starting to look like permanent tattoos and make up was not going to make it any better. Her training sessions were starting to look sloppy and she no longer had the strength to spew death threats at Tony when he made his usual snarky comments.

She breathed in deeply when leaning against the counter had proven to be a bad idea. The bruise that travelled from her hip, all the way down her thigh and partially over her butt was excruciatingly painful. It has since turned to a dark shade of blue and purple, with no sign of fading anytime soon. She knew the new bruises had bothered Clint tremendously, but not as much as her refusal to sit out a few missions to let her body heal. She was too proud and stubborn to sit anything out.

She sometimes forgets that unlike the others, she and Clint where completely human with no form of super powers other than their weaponry skills. Her body was fragile, but she wouldn't admit defeat. As long as her heart was beating and her hands could hold a gun, she would not sit out any mission.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

If only she could just get some sleep.

It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive

If you don't have it you're on the other side

I'm not an addict (maybe that's a lie)

I have big plans for this story. Please youtube the song to understand where I am going with this.

And as always, please review to let me know what you think.