I find all three of these characters insanely attractive, so I threw them all together and this is what I got. This was loosely inspired by the movie Savages which I have fallen in love with over the past few months.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, and barely the plot, and I apologize for the mistakes made. I'm exhausted and just wanted this up.
Maria Hill was the one who had originally introduced Natasha Romanov to the loves of her life.
Maria wasn't a whore, she was a pretty high class call girl. She lived in the holiday home of the man she saw a couple of times a year. He was a middle class, married stock broker, who flew out to Laguna Beach three or four times a year, never with his family, and Maria kept him entertained while he was there. Other than that, she didn't life a finger; he paid for her to get her hair done, her nails manicured, her expensive clothing habits—it was call girl heaven.
Natasha wasn't quite as lucky. She had loved her father when she was younger, but he had disappeared on them when she was eleven. From that point forward, her mother had bounced from one rich douche bag to the next one. Natasha rebelled in the normal way, disappearing for days at a time with boys who were a few years older than her and wanted only wanted to get her high and have their way with her. She didn't really care; she had a mother who viewed her as a pretty piece of furniture and she had never really had any friends. When she was eighteen, and had been kicked out of her fifth and final school for being high on school property, her current step-father, rich hubby number four kicked her out of the house.
So she found Sharon Carter, a girl that she had occasionally got high with, who had introduced her to her pimp. On her first night, she was only a little drunk, and the man had tossed her against a wall, wanting to do things rough. There was about two whole seconds when Natasha thought she might be able to go through with it, but then she had slammed the palm of her fist into his nose and was running from the dirty looking apartment. She had run through the sister and fallen asleep on the beach, hidden in the bushes.
Maria had found her, and taken her back to her house on the edge of beach. She had cleaned her up, fed her and then put her to bed. When she had woken up, Maria had given her a pair of sweat pants and a shirt and told her that she knew a couple of guys. Natasha had been a little concerned at first, but Maria seemed like a stand up kind of chick, and so when she assured her that her friends were good guys, and they weren't going to take advantage of her, she listened.
And they didn't.
Clint Barton was a former member of an EOD unit. He was twenty eight and seemed in a perpetual angry state. Not angry enough to explode, just tense, all the time, his eyes always flickering around. He was damn good looking, with short hair and this mouth that Natasha had to concentrate really hard on not looking at all the time.
Pietro Maximoff was younger than Clint, maybe just a few years older than Natasha. He was the opposite of Clint in every way. He had this strange blonde and dark hair, and this permanent smirk on his handsome face. He made rude jokes and liked to show off his well formed chest.
At first, Natasha had just thought that they were friends; maybe even related somehow. They seemed really close and comfortable with each other, happy with being in the same room and talking as they were with being in the same room and being silence. That type of leisure with someone didn't happen easily, and Natasha was kind of jealous. But then there was a night when Natasha came downstairs after finishing off a late movie, and she had seen the two of them in the kitchen. Pietro was on the bench, bracing his elbows back on the bench with his legs wrapped around Clint's waist as the older man pounded into them, the pair groaning and mumbling out each others name.
From that point, Natasha had assumed that was why Maria had said she would be safe there. Because they were into each other, and not girls.
But then they started to say things, and do things while she was around. It wasn't much, not enough to make her uncomfortable, but enough for her stomach to twist into hope when they were in the same room as each other. To start with, it was just small things. Kisses on the cheek or forehead when they were going out, letting her fingers trail over her hand or her shoulder for a few seconds longer than needed. It was mainly Pietro, he was the one who seemed more comfortable with trusting and opening up to new people. But Clint was there as well, he would join her on the couch when she was watching TV and sit closer to her so that their knees brushed up against each other.
The next time she caught them together, it wasn't in the dark and just shapes moving in the shadows. She had come home from where she had got a job, waitressing down the street, and they were in the hot tub, which was on the balcony. The house they had was sheltered either side with trees, opening up to an amazing view of the beach. But it was far enough back that people in the water and on the sand couldn't get a clear view of them.
And they were missing out.
Natasha was so wet that she could feel it dripping down her thighs.
Pietro was on top of Clint, and they were kissing so hard and scratching at each others shoulders; it looked as though they were trying to get under each others skin. Natasha chewed down on her lower lip, blinking over at them from where she was partially hidden by a curtain. There was a slosh of water as they shifted in the warm water, and as Clint was laving his tongue over Pietro's pulse point, and as the younger man tilted his head back and let out a guttural groan, his eyes opened as he looked over to where Natasha thought that they couldn't see her, and he winked.
Natasha got herself once in the shower than night, and then twice more once she was in bed.
If Pietro had told Clint about Natasha watching, or if he knew, the older man didn't let on. Pietro would give her these long, lewd looks out of the corner of his eye and one night when she was sitting on the balcony after they had finished dinner, he came out and gave her a brief kiss.
Surprisingly, it was Clint who actually made the first move. If she had to choose which one she was most similar to, it would be Clint. They both got the same, angry and almost haunted look in their eyes at time, and they rarely smiled. In fact, the pair of them usually only smiled when they were with Pietro. The two were sitting out on the deck, drinking beer, only wearing board shorts, which was warm enough in the early evening sun. Natasha had come out to give them fresh bottles of cold beer, and had then sat down on the edge of the bench opposite them. Pietro told them about his day—the boy clearly liked the sound of his own voice—one of his feet stretching out on the bench next to where Natasha was sitting and rubbing it gently against her soft, bare thigh.
Clint had leaned forward in his seat, clasping both of his hands around the bottle of beer, tapping his fingers against the cool bottle of beer, only a few inches away from Natasha's knees.
Pietro prompted her for more about her day, asking if she was enjoying her waitressing gig and if there was anything else that she had ever wanted to do. He didn't make fun of her when she said that when she was little she had wanted to be a actress, he had just grinned and said that she had the face for it. When she said that she really had no idea now, Clint had shrugged, said that she was still young, and reached out to rest his hand on her knee.
Her breath had hiccupped in her throat as the night went on further, Clint's thumb rubbing over her knees, Pietros foot and leg brushing against her thigh. She knew that they—mainly Pietro—were still talking, and asking her questions, but her brain kept on short circuiting as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
They were together, right?
They were just being friendly, right?
She had a couple of drinks, and then Pietro rolled a joint, that they shared between the three of them. Then he rolled another. She had a buzz going on that made Natasha's body feel almost lethargic and completely relaxed. Pietro was telling a story about him and his twin sister, Wanda Maximoff, when Clint slid closer on his seat so that he was sharing the same breath as Natasha. She swallowed audibly as her attention shifted from Pietro to Clint, staring into the older mans eyes.
God, he was so gorgeous.
And his arms...If she was good with words, she could literally write poems about this guys arms.
"I agree with you, eh?" Pietro laughed and Natasha blinked as she realized that she had made that comment out loud. Her cheeks stained red, but then Clint's hand moved from where he had been rubbing her leg to cup her face and draw her into him. His tongue was perfection, flicking over her lips before dipping into the warmth of her mouth and teasing her. He took his time, licking at the outside of her mouth, the tip of his tongue finding hers and coaxing it to play with his. His fingers massaged her jaw line and cheeks while his tongue made her wet through her panties. Finally, Clint pulled back, nudging her nose with his before smiling.
"He wants to taste you as well," Clint murmured to her, and Natasha's eyes hazily to Pietro, who was staring at her with heavy, sensual eyes.
That was how it started.
And it had just continued from there.
They all had their own rooms, and their own space, but they usually ended up together. Pietro was a smart kid, he had a degree in business and he used it. He ran his own private security firm—not always for people on the right side of the law, but always for people who paid good money. Clint covered the big jobs, and was also the one who went out to collect the pay check.
Natasha was happy with what she was doing. She waitressed a couple times a week, spending the rest of her time at home with her boys, sun bathing at the beach or at Maria's house. She was pretty sure Maria knew what was going on, that they were all together, but she didn't say anything, and she didn't act as though it bothered her. And why would it? They were all adults and they didn't flaunt it to make anyone feel uncomfortable. She wasn't sure how exactly things were working, if it was something that they were looking at long term, but for now; it was perfect.
"Where's my girl?!" Pietro shouted as he walked into the house. The two had been out since about six o'clock yesterday evening, and it was now just after three in the afternoon. It was pretty normal for them to work nights though, although not always at the same time. Natasha grinned from where she was laying out on the balcony. He found her a couple of minutes later, Clint close behind.
"Now that's a sight for sore eyes," Clint murmured, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at her, his eyes appreciating the view. She was completely nude, bar sunglasses perched on her nose, and when she rolled over, the men exchanged looks and grinned. "You been waiting for us to get home?"
"I was evening out my tan," Natasha rebutted with a smirk, her red mouth curling upwards. Clint snorted and rolled his eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him and reached out for her empty glass, holding it out to him. "Can you refill me?" She asked with a smirk. Clint snatched it out of her hand and headed back into the house, while Pietro sat down next to her, stretching out his legs in front of him. "How was your day?" She purred, staying on her back, enjoying the way his eyes were appraising her body.
"It was fine, I suppose," he nodded, his gaze settling on her face. "I think that Clint's gonna need to go out tonight, though," he added, his voice a little quieter, glancing over his shoulder to make sure their third didn't overhear them. "This has not been such a good day for him." Natasha was about to ask why, but then Clint was walking back over to them and so she dropped it, just took her drink from Clint and sent him another cheeky smile.
She found out soon enough what it was that had happened that day. Clint had gone out to join one of their friends, James Barnes, also known as Bucky, in the field, where they were providing security for a couple of men who had come into town. They were pretty well known in the drug running circles and they came out to Laguna Beach a couple times a year to relax; hiring out girls and the big private rooms at the fancy clubs. Apparently there had been a couple of undesirables who had shown up, paid a little bit too much attention to one of the girls who seemed pretty popular in their hired dancers. Pietro was watching through the video feed as Clint and Bucky had tried to diffuse the situation, first verbally, and then by walking the two trouble makers out of the club. One of them had walked off, not putting up anymore of a fight, and so the two men decided to head back into the club. Bucky had already disappeared back inside, while Clint stayed out for a smoke, when the second kid started making trouble and had pulled out a gun from his waist band.
There was a fight; Clint won, of course, walking away with barely a scratch on him. It wasn't until she looked closely and took his sunglasses that she saw a graze on his cheek and some bruising around his right eye.
The three of them went out for dinner, to this cute little place just a few blocks away from their apartment. They walked down, Pietro in his flip flops and a button down tee shirt that he only bothered doing up one or two buttons on, most of his chest exposed—which made Natasha's mouth water. Clint was wearing his standard jeans and grey short sleeved shirt that clung to his firm biceps. Nat was in a long, practically sheer dress and some sandals that twined up her calves, walking down the street between them with her arms linked through both of theirs.
Dinner was a little tense; Clint flinched at every loud noise or fast movement. Natasha and Pietro tried to carry the conversation but every time they came back around to Clint, he was quiet and staring down at his food. Natasha could see from the angle she was sitting at, that Pietro's hand was on Clint's lap, probably just a touch to give him comfort. But clearly it wasn't working.
"Can we get the cheque please?" She called to the waiter, who smiled widely at her and nodded. Pietro paid their tab and then they started the walk home. Clint was walking stiffly, a half step in front off them, while Pietro and Natasha held hands, trying to keep up with his quick pace. Once they got inside, he instantly pulled out a bottle of bourbon from the cupboard and poured himself a couple of fingers. Pietro nodded at Nat, who walked over to the windows to close the curtains, making sure they had privacy once they turned the lights on.
"You know that you did what you needed to do, right?" Pietro's soft, accented voice was like soothing music, and Natasha could see their lover's shoulders look as though they were relaxing slightly. Pietro was standing behind Clint, rubbing his hands up and down the mans muscular back, kneading at his shoulders. Natasha undone the ties on either shoulder of her dress, so that it fell off her, leaving her only in her white thong. She walked over to her men, Pietro twisting his head half to the side to give her a wet kiss, before she shuffled her way between Clint and the bench. He let her, pulling back slightly, and she pulled herself up, so that she was sitting on the bench, legs parted, arms resting on Clint's shoulders. Pietro's hands brushed over her fingers, pressing kisses to them before he went back to brushing his lips over Clint's shoulders.
"You do what you need to do," Natasha murmured, her forehead against Clint's. "You do whatever you need to do to come home to me, and to Pietro, you hear me?" Clint's eyes were locked on hers, but it didn't really look as though he was hearing what she was saying. "Clint," she put her hands on either side of his neck, her eyes staring deep into his. Pietro's hands were now underneath Clint's shirt, massaging the skin that was tight over muscle. "Listen to me. You do whatever it is you need to do to come home to us, okay?"
"Okay," Clint finally croaked out. Natasha felt relief flood through her as she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in tight against her for a hug. Clint slowly moved his arms so that they circled her waist, Pietro at his back, and they all stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped around each other. Nat was the one who broke the moment, leaning over Clint's shoulder to reach for Pietro, pushing a kiss against his mouth. He responded eagerly, his tongue slipping into her mouth while his hands slipped around from where they were at the base of Clint's back to his stomach, his blunt fingernails scratching lightly at the sensitive skin just above his belt buckle. Clint let out a short hiss as Pietro's fingers dropped lower, teasing at the top of his jeans.
"You're so beautiful," Pietro murmured as he and Natasha pulled apart, and she smiled at him. "And you're not too bad either, old man," he added fondly, lightly biting down on the curve of Clint's neck.
"I think you're both wearing far too many clothes," Nat murmured as she looked the pair of them over. Pietro eagerly complied with the insinuation, gripping Clint's shirt and dropping it to the ground, his own quickly following. Then Clint was turning around in the cradle that Natasha had created with her legs and her boys were kissing. Natasha felt the heat in her stomach burn even hotter as she heard Clint moan into the younger mans mouth. Natasha slid her hands around his waist, slipping them lower until they found his belt buckle, quickly undoing it and then blindly finding his zipper. Her fingers grazed against Pietro's hardness through his jeans in the process, and there was a groan ripped from deep in his throat.
"I want to see you tasting her," Pietro mumbled. Natasha shivered in anticipation, feeling the dampness from her cunt seeping through her panties and slicking her thighs. Pietro's kisses trailed down Clint's neck, over his collar bone, bending forward so that he could tug at the man's nipples between his teeth. Clint's hands went to Pietro's hair, pushing him further down toward his crotch. "I'll suck your cock while you're eating her out."
"Sounds fucking perfect," Clint growled, spinning around and grabbing Natasha by the hips, dragging her closer to the edge of the kitchen bench. She let out a squeak as he grabbed the edges of her thong and ripped it clean off her, dropping the ripped fabric down and leaning forward. She smelt so fucking good, his head was already spinning by the time his mouth reached her thigh. Natasha's whine as Clint edged his lips upward was enough to spur Pietro into action, who dropped to his knees and shuffled around so that he was between the bench and Clint. Around the same time that Clint was burying his tongue deep inside Natasha, Pietro took Clint in his mouth, and moans were drawn from the throats of the three.
Natasha's fingers scrabbled at the bench top, trying to find something to sink her nails into as Clint's tongue licked at her lower lips, dipping inside occasionally to get a full taste of her wet heat. His hands were on her thighs, keeping them pushed apart so that he had full reign of her cunt. His teeth grazed against the bare lips, finding the sensitive nub and then sucking hard. Her back snapped in an arch as he sucked hard on her clit, one of her hands lifting from the bench and diving into his hair and pulling hard.
Pietro's tongue was flattening underneath Clint's cock, while his hand rubbed up and down his inner thigh, scratching lightly before reaching up to cup his sac and roll in between his fingers. From what he could hear above him, Clint's movements were getting sloppy as he started moving faster.
Natasha let out a long groan as Clint started licking at her more earnestly. She could tell by the way that he was getting more frantic that Pietro was working his magic on their lover, and she cupped his head with her hands, thrusting herself against his face and encouraging him to bring her closer to her orgasm. Clint responded the way he always did, his tongue reaching that spot inside her and massaging at the soft flesh. Her legs were beginning to tense and one of Pietro's hands found her calf, his fingers digging into the skin and adding to the pressure that was building.
It was always better when they were both touching her.
She exploded over Clint's tongue, and he continued sucking and lapping away at her until she had ridden out of the waves all the way. Her body felt limp and lax as she leaned back further on the bench, bracing her arms behind her. Clint leaned into her body, his head resting on her leg and his arms on either side of her, his body still wound tight as Pietro worked him. There was a lewd pop as Pietro pulled off Clint's cock and then the younger boy was standing up, next to them. He kept Clint turned around as he grabbed a bottle of lube from the shelf next to their microwave—something that they had learned to keep handy over the past few years.
"Look at me, Clint," Natasha's voice was a rasp as she put her hands on either side of Clint's face and urged it upward, pressing a long, wet kiss to his mouth as Pietro covered his cock with lube and rubbed it between Clint's cheeks. Her hand slid down between her body at Clint's, taking his wet cock into her hands and pumping up and down slowly. His whole body was shaking with pleasure as Pietro pushed inside of him, both men moaning simultaneously.
Pietro's cock was buried deep in Clint's ass, and the older man felt like he might explode right then and there from the stimulation provided by both of his lowers. Natasha's tongue was dancing with his and her hand found his cock, rubbing around the spit-slick arousal while Pietro filled him. Pietro let out soft grunts as he held Clint's hips and pulled himself forward, his cock slamming into Clint's prostate over and over again.
"Fuck...Fuck," Clint grunted, the kiss with Nat turning into a mess of teeth and tongue as her small, talented hand tightened around him, pumping him in time to the snap of Pietro's hips. It wasn't long before the blonde haired boy was panting, his nails digging in viciously at Clint's hips, leaving behind red crescents.
"Come on, babe," Natasha whispered, her eyes flickering between the two boys, the hand that was attending to Clint reaching out to touch Pietro's cheek. His eyes raised to hers before he let out a long moan, biting down hard on Clint's shoulder as the build at the base of his spine finally released and he was cumming. Clint followed soon after, spilling over Natasha's fingers and his stomach. The two boys slumped forward, and Natasha wrapped her arms around them, Clint snuggled in the middle. Pietro was the first one to move, lifting his head to kiss Pietro, and then at the curve of Clint's neck.
"Are you feeling better?" Pietro murmured, his familiar, gorgeous accent rolling over his lovers. Clint just nodded, his head still on Natasha's chest.
"I love you," Natasha whispered.
"I love you," Pietro added, his mouth tipped upward in a smile.
"I love you," Clint mumbled in agreement.
Reviews would be appreciated, I love them an insane amount xx