What's left of us (for broken_arrow)

[russianchildatprayer]

The fire is spreading fast. The gamemaker wastes no time blowing up his arena, now that the winner stands.

She should be in the elevator already. The heat is unbearable, scorching the small hair of her arms where her uniform has torn, and stinging in countless ulcerous open wounds.

This one will scar.

There is no reason to linger. The other four are dead, she’s made very sure of that. Some put up a fight and suffered more than she would have wanted. But by now they all made it. They’re all relieved off what Dreykov still politely likes to call life.

All but one.

She could still end it. Her guns have drowned in that acid pool on the first day already and her last knife is stuck to the hilt in his liver. She can’t near him again if she doesn’t want to end up like him after all. But there’s enough rocks around. Worst case, she’ll burn her fingers while smashing his skull, before he has to suffer much worse pain.

The thick iron of the artificial walls, the faded layers of grass bred miles under the surface, just for this one purpose of yet another natural selection for Dreykov’s likes… All is glowing with the flames closing in around her. She can feel the hairs on her neck rise, smoking from the heat.

Still she keeps the door of the elevator open with her good arm, refusing to let it carry her to safety, to care, to the proud shimmer in Dreykov’s eyes and another nightmare to come by.

She shortly wonders if she should try take him with her. Maybe they’ll show mercy for once. He’s stood against her until the very last minute, after all. And even in that last fight she’s been nothing but lucky. It could be her bleeding out on the ground just a few meters away now.

She could try but the girl who’s been trained since before she even had been able to understood why and for what, knows better. The elevator won’t move if she drags him along with her. The doors won’t even close.

Only the strongest survive.

She’s been praying that he’ll pass out in these terrible few seconds of uncertainty, of trying to make a decision that’s long been made for her. She should know better. If a God exists, he has never taken particular interest in her life.

He turns to her, and she can see his eyelids are on fire. His lips form words that she can’t hear with one eardrum ruptured since day 3 and the rising noise of trees falling, barrels exploding, rocks crashing.

Maybe she’ll be able to tell herself for a while that he wants her to run.

But the part of her that turns away and takes the elevator to safety because there’s never been another way for her, knows better.

His last words were that he’ll find her.

She wishes, he could. Probably that’s why she left him alive. For the smallest chance that he’ll come for her, this time without making a stupid mistake. That he’ll be the one to finally put an end to it.

Only there’s no way he’ll make it out of there. There is no way out. They have made sure.

She won’t sleep better with that knowledge on her mind but that isn’t the point. Nightmares of seeing her lover burn to death is the easiest punishment she can wish for.

***************

Nightmares were hardly a rarity since Washington, but this was the first time Natasha awoke screaming. Still caught up in too bright, too detailed pictures burning behind her closed eyes, she realized too late that she was far too close to the edge of the bed. Before her instincts could kick in, she went to the floor, tangled in sweat stained sheets and landed on the very same shoulder that desperately needed a timeout anyway.

And that had been the last fucking time to take painkillers before going to sleep.

After she could breathe without wincing out in pain again, she left the bedroom to put together some kind of breakfast and a new load of meds. A postcard in her mailbox immediately made her forget about patching up that shoulder new. She couldn’t help but wonder how Steve had found her. It seemed, she had taught him better than she had realized.

Sam and him hadn’t found anything yet, that amateurishly coded card said. He wanted to know if she was okay. Saying they could use a hand. Sure they could.

He was stubborn, she had to give him that. She wondered if he’d still be once he found out the rest about her, all the stuff that was openly out in the world after Washington. And he would. Once they found Barnes and he would go back to a normal life… Steve would get to know the whole truth about her, sooner or later. There probably wouldn’t be postcards with smileys on them then anymore.

Time for another relocation, it seemed. She had waited for weeks, something that was far too dangerous anyway, and by now all hope was gone that at least a message of Clint might eventually catch up with her here. Hell, there was no telling if he was even still alive. Maybe the buzz out there had at least died down enough by now to try and find out that. The nightmares wouldn't go away from sitting and lying around in apathy much longer, that was for sure.

Ignoring her slightly dizzy condition, due to a few days without enough food, as much as the new warm, wet spots staining the bandage under her shirt, Natasha went back to the bedroom to pack her things. If Steve had found out where she was, chances were too big that someone else would too, to linger much longer.

Comments

[russianchildatprayer]

Clint certainly didn't make her wait for more, doing exactly what she had hoped he would do. Now only the cover of her arms muffled an embarrassing keening sound from her lips. The things this man did with his tongue were probably forbidden in more than one country. Her muscles tightened up around the intrusion when it hit just the right spot, a hard shudder going through her, and again she was glad that he was holding her so tightly.

She tried to hold back, to let him play at his speed, but as soon as he put his hand on her, slicking her up with her own juices, that idea went out of the window. Soon enough she was circling her hips against his thumb and mouth, moaning in time with his perfectly aimed stimulations.

The heat from the fire only intensified what was already crawling under her skin, sweat glistening all the way down from her neck to her lower body. Her breasts swayed heavily with every fast breath, her nipples hard and sensitive just from how fucking much Clint turned her own.

She wanted to tell him, let him know how good he was with this and how crazy he was making her, but her speech was reduced to mostly his name and noises of pleasure by now. She thought the wetness answering his administrations was a pretty good indicator, though.

Much too fast she was much too turned on, shoved head first towards another orgasm this night, and unable to decide if she wanted it or rather had his mouth on her for a while longer. It wasn't like her body left her a say in it, not while Clint was working his magic on her. Already she could feel herself clenching hard around him and leaned her head back with a cry of pleasure, hips jerking helplessly from the pooling heat inside just waiting for a last push.

[broken_arrow]

At first she seemed content to let him do all the work, something Clint would have been perfectly fine with, but before long she was moving with him, telling him exactly how she needed to be touched without saying a word, other than the incoherent moans, of course.

The fire was hot, but not as hot as the inferno burning inside of her. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and he could feel more running down his back and chest, but he didn’t let up, didn’t even pause to wipe any of it away. His erection was at full attention, driven by her movements and her moans and how wet she was for him, but he continued to ignore it. She was his top priority, his only priority. He planned to make her knees buckle, to make her scream and gush.

He felt muscles clench around his tongue and knew he almost had her, her pleasured cry confirming it. He didn’t dare move the hand that was helping to hold her up so he increased the pressure and friction against her clit while pressing his tongue deeper, curling it inside of her and letting out a low hum, the sound vibrating against her.

[russianchildatprayer]

A very colorful Russian curse came from Natasha's lips when Clint intensified his administrations, proving his famous surefire sense of knowing exactly when she was close enough, and every attempt to draw this out for a little longer became futile.

Her hands grabbed that board so hard that her knuckles turned white and the faintest throb of protest went through her shoulder, a sensation that was completely drowned by the heat exploding in her core. The needy whimpers on her lips turned into an embarrassingly loud wail of lust. Once more she was very thankful that Clint held her up so tightly because she couldn't rely on her knees to hold her anymore.

Her thigh muscles were rock hard, spasming from the tension running through her and trying not to thrust her hips down too hard, but Clint really left her no choice in this with his perfectly aimed and timed stimulations. His wicked tongue was working her just as expertly as he could do it with his hand, hitting just that right spot inside, and when he made these evil little sounds against her, the tension sprang loose at once.

She knew he had to feel her come around him, her muscles clenching violently, a new gush of wetness proving just how fucking perfect he was at this, and she shivered and moaned helplessly against him. Her head rolled from one side to the other, tilted back so hard it nearly hurt, as she held on to that damn board for dear life, moaning his name.

[broken_arrow]

He hadn’t expected such a loud scream of pleasure as she clenched and gushed over him, and his lips curled up in a delighted smile even as he continued to carry her through her climax. He slackened off the assault on her clit, moving his hand so he had both to hold her up with, but his tongue kept moving, slow and gentle, and he continued that low hum against her.

The scream faded to quieter moans, and whenever they contained his name he gave her just a little more; a higher vibration, the flick of his tongue across her clit. His face was soaked with her lust but he kept lapping at her until she was clean and he initial aftershocks had worn down. Hearing her let go like that really did things to him, that unrestrained wail and his name sounding so dirty in that tone, Clint tried to ignore his ever growing desire but it was getting almost painful, his cock hard and begging to be touched. His strong hands never moved, though, even when he pulled back and nuzzled against her fine ass. “Wanna come down here with me?” he asked. He would help her down to the floor if she wanted and give them both a rest.

[russianchildatprayer]

"Hm-hm."

Natasha's answer was though not particularly articulated, definitely positive - laying by the fire for a while actually sounded really nice - but her body wasn't quite ready to move yet. Still trembling and a little lightheaded she straightened up and moved one hand down to Clint's on her legs while the other steadied her on the cupboard.

After another deep, shaky breath she finally made it to look at him, an absent smile curving on her lips that turned into an aroused expression when she realized, she had left quite a mark on him. A new jolt of adrenaline helped getting to her knees at least half gracefully, and then she had her arms around him and kissed the hell out of him. He tasted like sex, a very vivid reminder of what he had just done to her, and she sucked on his tongue greedily, relishing in the memory and showing him how much she enjoyed this.

Only when she moved her body closer to his, she realized how fucking hard he was and gasped into their kiss, moving her hips against his in slow, teasing circles.

"We might have to do something about that..."

[broken_arrow]

Clint grinned at the reply and continued to hold her steady while she collected herself. He was in no rush, and he had just about the best view while he waited for her.

He felt her draw in that shaky breath, but with his eyes still closed as he nuzzled against her he missed her expression completely, so when he helped her kneel before him he was entirely unprepared for the passion she met him with. He had thought her too drained to even move at the moment, so it took him a moment to recover before he was kissing her back just as insistently, his arms winding around her back to hold her close. She clearly very much enjoyed the taste of herself on his tongue and seemed determined to seek out every bit of it and reclaim it from his lips, his tongue, his mouth. By the time she rocked against him, gasping as his hardness pressed against her, Clint’s pupils had dilated a short moan escaped his lips.

“Unless you don’t mind me poking you,” he said, his voice slightly strained as he pressed himself against her again to make his point, so to speak.

[russianchildatprayer]

"I can think of more entertaining things to do", Natasha whispered close to his ear, rough and low, all promise and filth.

Her hand sneaked between their bodies and into his pants, closing around him with just the lightest, teasing touch while her tongue just as slowly stroked his ear, down to his neck where she gave him a teasing little nip. Just feeling how turned on he really was had her shiver with newly growing arousal. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he had just done it for her.

"That all for me?" she purred, her voice nearly as innocent as her softly caressing fingertips along his rock hard length. "What do you want, hotshot? Want me to suck you down? Do you want to come on my tongue? Or somewhere else? Want me to ride you again? You can have anything you want..."

[broken_arrow]

“Oh god,” Clint groaned as Natasha wrapped her fingers around him, his eyes rolling back as she teased his ear. He was so fucking hot for her it was ridiculous. Even as a teenager he couldn’t remember being as damn horny as Natasha made him.

“Mmhmm,” he answered her as best he could that teasing question, his whole body shivering at the light caresses. If he thought that was bad, though, it was nothing compared to what she had in store for him with those filthy words. Every scenario she offered sounded just as delicious as the last and he groaned again, pressing harder against her hand. Dropping his head to her shoulder he nuzzled against her neck, breathing her in and trying to get himself under control. “Ride me,” he eventually managed. As good as it had felt feeling her clench and gush around his tongue he wanted that again around his cock, wanted to explode inside of her and make her scream with him.

What he really wanted was to just take her himself, but considering the locations of their various injuries it was probably better for her to stay on top for a couple more days.

[russianchildatprayer]

Clint's answer wasn't all that surprising considering the circumstances. Natasha smiled against his skin for a second before withdrawing to pull her/his sweater over her head as quickly and gracefully as her shoulder allowed it. She knew how much Clint liked to watch her when she was on top of him and didn't want to rob him off the sight.

With one hand gently pressed against his chest she pushed him back until he was comfortably lying on the fur and hurried to kneel over him. There she paused, just pressing against him and slicking up his hardness with teasing movements of her hips against his. Resting her good hand right next to his face, she leaned forward slowly, moving her hips just right until he was pressing against her entrance. She made sure to hold his gaze while she took him in, just as slowly, accompanied by low moans and purrs, to catch every smallest expression on his face, each flash of lust in his eyes.

"Feel what you do to me?" she murmured huskily, her face just inches away from his. "Want you so bad..."

[broken_arrow]

He wanted to give her more, to give her everything, but he knew if he hurt himself trying to please her she would get very upset with him, and probably with herself, neither of which he wanted, particularly the latter. Besides, they were always good at being creative, and he was sure he could come up with a few tricks to keep her from getting bored with the usual.

As hot as it was seeing Natasha wearing only his sweater, he couldn’t deny he preferred her without it. He didn’t touch her at first, just drank in the sight of her naked body, how her skin seemed to glow in the flickering firelight. He followed her guidance willingly, glad to be able to stretch out again, and his hands immediately moved to her hips as she straddled him. She didn’t even take the time to undress him, though she did take her time in sinking down over him, her wet heat slowly engulfing him. It was tempting to push up, to meet her halfway, but he let her take control, let her move at her own pace. Their gazes were locked intensely, and the fire burning in his eyes wasn’t just a reflection of the nearby flame.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he muttered, fingers curling a little tighter on her hips, not to control her movements but out of reflex. “You got me. Always yours.” Any time, any place, any way, he was hers, forever and always.

[russianchildatprayer]

Natasha felt her cheeks flush a little and buried her face against Clint's chest quickly, pressing her whole body against him. Sometimes it was the small, casual compliments that got to her, especially since she didn't really feel sexy right now, with her body compromised and the weight she had lost. Clint always made her forget such things, with his words just as much as with the way she could feel him impossibly hard inside of her.

Withdrawing just enough to not hurt him, she kept her hips close to his, without really moving for the moment, just let him feel her muscles clench around him. First on purpose, but quickly her body betrayed her and had her hips jerk helplessly against his. Sweat pooled between the warm, tight embrace of their bodies, and the air was filled with greedy moans from her lips or maybe from his, she soon couldn't tell anymore.

[broken_arrow]

She was thinner and injured but she was still absolutely beautiful, and nothing else about her had changed. It wasn’t just her physical beauty that made her so damn attractive but her confidence, the way she held herself, that little glint in her eye and quirk of her lips; there was so much about her that Clint found completely and utterly hot, including the way she seemed slightly embarrassed by him saying so.

When she started to move it was like heaven and he let his head drop back to the rug beneath him. The heat of the fire just made him burn hotter for her, and the fingers of one hand curled a little tighter against her hips when her movements grew erratic. He was indeed moaning with her, his other hand sliding between their sweat soaked bodies to massage her breasts. He had already been so damn turned on before she’d even mounted him, and he could feel himself already getting close, but he tried to hold back, tried to think whatever he had to to keep him going longer.

[russianchildatprayer]

The strain on Clint's face let Natasha know he was already nearing the edge and fighting it, so she stopped her moving, as slow as it was, completely. Instead she leaned back on her good arm, on the floor instead of his thigh to not hurt him. With her hips still pressed flush against his, she just enjoyed the hot throb of his hardness inside of her, and the way, the position nudged just the right spot inside.

"It's okay", she murmured softly. "Just relax... Just look at me..."

She let her other hand slowly wander down her body to her bare, slick folds and started squeezing and rubbing her clit between quickly working fingertips, working herself up to loud moans and gasps in no time. Her muscles started clenching around Clint's perfect hardness again, helplessly, violently when she let herself go more and more... getting herself off to nothing more than that wonderful feeling of him being so deep inside of her and his perfect body splayed out for her to play.

[broken_arrow]

She knew he was struggling, that he was trying to hold back, that he wanted her to come with him, and her movements immediately ceased. Opening his eyes to look at her, he sucked in a breath when she leaned back, putting her beautiful body on full display. She was a work of art with her perfect curves and her skin glistening with sweat. He watched one rivulet travel down the valley between her breasts and he wanted to follow it with his tongue, but his gaze was drawn to her hand as she slid it down her body, not stopping, not teasing, but with a purpose.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered when Natasha started playing with her self, her fingers working her body just as she needed for her to catch up. Her moans sent shivers through his body, but soon he was joining her when she started to clench and flutter around him, causing his hips to jerk involuntarily. Still he never took his eyes off of her, committing ever second of this to his memory.

[russianchildatprayer]

It made her a little proud that this was turning him on just as much as her, just watching her pleasure herself, and she made a mental note to come back to that someday. She could feel his cock twitch inside of her and willed her muscles to clench down on him even harder in response, her whole body shuddering from the feeling.

"Look at what you do to me", she murmured, much too turned on for any filters or embarrassment.

Dirty talk had always been part of her job- encounters with marks were so much easier cut short after endless hours of teasing... But with Clint she had soon discovered that anything she had just loathed as work earlier was a real turn on with the right man. Just for the way, his pupils dilated with lust when she told him all the dirty things on her minds, how he seemed to grow harder just from her talking, was worth it forgetting any filter.

"Your cock feels so fucking good inside of me. Want to feel you come, want you to fill me up..."

She mewled and moaned at the very vivid image on her mind and rubbed her fingertips over her swollen clit in hard circles. That building hot feeling at the base of her spine let her know how close she already was, just from having him inside of her and touching herself, and she chased it willingly, leaving it all to Clint when to join the party.

[broken_arrow]

Clint groaned loudly at the clench of her muscles around him coupled with those words. To be fair, she was doing a lot of this to herself, but he knew what she meant, knew it was for him. She wasn’t done, though, and as she continued talking, filthy and full of desire, his cock strained inside of her, hard and begging for release.

Gripping her hips with both hands he started rocking his hips and thrusting up into her, short, quick thrusts against those tight, clenching muscles. With her writing and moaning on top of him, the image of her fingers working her sensitive nub, and her dirty talk still ringing in his ears it wasn’t long before he was following her down, his head thrown back as he cried out in ecstasy.

[russianchildatprayer]

After she could breath again and their bodies had come down, Natasha collapsed next to Clint on the fur with a breathless little chuckle. Spreading out on his side with her arm gently draped over his chest, she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder and enjoyed the last of trembles going through her body. That bittersweet feeling of emptiness after their act, the heavy scent of sex in the air and the soft tickle of fur against her bare skin... Why couldn't stay things so simple, so easy?

Pushing the sad thought away as good as possible, she lowered her head to his shoulder and treated it with small kisses while she waited for him to be coherent enough to speak again.

"You know, we go on like that, we'll have tried out every corner of the house by the end of the week."

[broken_arrow]

Holy christ, she was amazing. Even as he gasped to catch his breath he couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she trembled above him, her expression one of pure enjoyment and fulfillment as she slowly came down. When she stretched out beside him he smiled, running lazy fingertips over her arm.

“I don’t really see a problem with that,” he replied, chuckling at her words.

In this moment he was pretty sure he could stay like this forever, just the two of them where the rest of the world couldn’t touch them. They had food, water, shelter, and each other. What more could they need?