A/N: Oddly enough, I started shipping Clintasha before seeing "The Avengers" (and I was disappointed by the lack of them/their relationship, but still loved it) and I have not previously read the comic books, so what I know about the two comes from the movie and the multitude of fics that I have read about them. I realize that the sex (yes, there is sex, like 98% of this is sex, yayyyy~) is quite sudden and Natasha's motives aren't clear (at least not until the end), but please bear with me. I can definitely see Natasha as being a "spontaneous sex" person who likes to surprise their partner and whatnot, haha. Anyways, enjoy and feel free to review! It keeps me confident in my writing! :)
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and they all belong to Marvel.
EDIT (REALLY IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ): I've gotten a few reviews on this story (which I haven't read over in a really long time, since I stopped writing Clintasha) about how Natasha is sterilized and how I got that fact wrong. First off, if you read the above author's note, you'd know that I don't know anything about any of the Avengers except for what I saw in the movie. I haven't seen the second Avengers film or the Winter Soldier; I haven't read any of the comics. I'm sorry if you're upset that I didn't know she was sterilized? Second, if we're really trying to be accurate, then even if she is sterilized protection is still important?! STDs/STIs ARE THINGS THAT YOU CAN GET IF YOU DON'T WEAR PROTECTION. Lastly, to the person who told me I suck because I didn't know "Black widow got freaking sterilized": fuck you, I was gonna take the high road and ignore you, but your review just really annoyed me. Even if I did know that Natasha was sterilized, that doesn't mean that I HAVE to write her as being sterilized in every single story. Fanfiction doesn't have to be accurate at all and for all you know, this could be an alternate universe. It's called fanfiction for a reason, so again, fuck you.
Clint's been gone for a month on some stupid mission that Fury demanded Clint go on—or at least, Natasha thinks it's stupid because why does Clint need to be holed up somewhere in the-middle-of-nowhere, Texas? And for a whole month—really?
Natasha's frustrated, and not just emotionally, but also sexually. Or maybe "emotionally" isn't the right word because, don't be foolish, the Black Widow doesn't have emotions. But there is something that bothers her about Clint being away. It means he's not able to make her coffee in the morning—he's the only one that makes it right—and he's not there to spar with her. She's stuck with the rookies, the ones that SHIELD gives to Natasha to eat up like flies caught in web.
There are other things Natasha misses about Clint, like his whispered jokes in her ear and the way they can sit with each other in complete, comfortable silence.
Natasha also misses Clint's masculine, musky scent, and his light, reassuring brushes against her whenever they pass each other in the halls, and this is where the sexual frustration comes in.
Natasha and Clint have never fucked. They've never kissed, but they've certainly teased, and touched, and rubbed. Nothing ever purposefully sexual, unless it's been for a mission, in which case the two were only acting in order to convince their mark. Or, at least, that's what Natasha tries to tell herself. Just light touches, brushes, the slow trailing of fingertips when demonstrating, "accidental" bumps, you know.
These little things between them had just started to go a little further, get a little more heated, when Fury had given Clint his new assignment and he was whisked away to goddamn Texas, leaving a sexually frustrated Natasha in the lurch. What the fuck.
So, now Natasha's in Clint's room, waiting for him to return from his debriefing with Agent Coulson. Natasha is sick of the games and sick of waiting for him to make the first move and sick of being aroused all the fucking time.
In the midst of all this arousal and frustration, however, Natasha does not—or rather, refuses to—acknowledge the fact that:
A) If she wanted to, she could get any one of her male coworkers (or female, too) to help her out with her problem, without even batting an eye. It's not like she hasn't done it before; there are approximately 37 SHIELD agents that Natasha has been sexually active with, and that's just a small fraction of the amount on the rest of her list.
And B) She could probably do a decent job taking care of herself, but she's tried a few times since Clint left and, while she was able to get off, the results were less than fantastic, despite her better, previous experiences while playing with herself.
She's sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing her favorite lingerie set; all lace and all black, waiting, when she hears the sliding of his lock and the creaking of his door opening.
Before Clint's able to shut the door, he finds himself slammed back against the wood, and with a face full of red.
At first he struggles, arms pinned to his sides, when he hears Natasha's voice, and she's moaning his name. He immediately stops, and then simultaneously notices the way her hands are sliding up his chest and around his neck.
"I missed you," she says huskily, her pout evident in her voice.
"Hey, Tash," Clint chuckles, grinning into her hair. "I missed you too."
He brings his now free hands up to rest on her waist and that's when he realizes that, oh. Natasha's not wearing anything. Well, she's wearing underwear, but does that really count?
Clint feels himself start to grow hard and his breathing becomes a bit heavier. If he doesn't get some space between them in the next few seconds, Natasha will definitely notice and he really doesn't want his return to HQ to start out with embarrassment.
But then, shit, Natasha lets out a throaty laugh that goes straight to Clint's balls and she's rubbing herself against him and she's obviously noticed.
"I guess you're happy to see me, too," Natasha says, one corner of her mouth twitching up.
Before Clint can ask what she's doing, why is she naked, and why is she here, Natasha's got one thigh between his legs, pressing up against the bulge in his jeans, while she practically rides the one that's now between hers, pressing and rolling and grinding, and, Jesus, she feels so good.
She's licking and sucking at the pulse point on his neck and he can't keep from moaning as she digs her fingernails into the back of his neck.
Clint's wanted to kiss Natasha for the longest time, and now that he finally has the chance, he decides not to question her actions, leaning his head back and using the hand that's been palming her ass to grab a fist full of fiery hair, slamming their mouths together.
It's a battle of tongues and teeth as they devour each other, exploring, teeth clacking together. It's just as Clint's always expected their first kiss would be, and no less spectacular.
Natasha makes a whining noise in the back of her throat, biting his bottom lip just hard enough to leave an indent and the hand that's not on her neck roughly pulls at her nipples through the lace of her bra.
"I'm going to show you just how much I missed you," Natasha murmurs against Clint's lips after she's pulled away slightly, their noses still touching.
Clint can only nod slowly as she begins to trail open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck—stopping briefly to leave mark—and across his collar bone.
She lifts the hem of his worn t-shirt and jerks it up and over his head. Natasha never promised to be gentle.
Hot, wet lips follow the trail of cool fingertips as Natasha slowly slides down his body, and Clint realizes as she comes to rest on her knees, that he's privileged enough for her to be in front of him, on her knees, willingly.
He gets even harder at this thought and he's so painfully aroused now, that he can't help but impatiently moan, "Tasha."
She smirks up at him and makes quick work of his jeans and boxers and suddenly all he can feel is the scorching, moist heaven that is Natasha Romanoff's mouth.
She uses the tip of her tongue to flick at the ridge between his shaft and head, causing Clint to groan and rest a hand on the back of her neck, not in a forceful way, and then she takes the rest of him into her mouth until her nose is against his groin and he's shuddering at the way her throat is so tightly grasping him.
Of course Natasha can deep throat, he thinks. It was a waste of time for him to ever wonder.
She brings her left hand up to cup his balls as she moves back up his shaft, sucking in her cheeks while simultaneously using the flat part of her tongue to make waves up his cock. When she gets to the head, she swirls her tongue around his sensitive tip, and she moans as she tastes his bittersweet pre-cum.
She briefly wonders if it's sweet because of the way he drinks his coffee in the morning.
Natasha's always thought that, in regards to sex, Clint likes things rough, just like her. And she's correct, of course, as he scratches the back of her neck in encouragement when she applies pressure to his balls, rubbing in circular motions. She uses her other hand to grasp his ass, pulling him forward to allow him to thrust deeper into her throat.
As she's memorizing the ridges and bumps of Clint's cock and making her way back down his shaft, Natasha begins to hum. She's not humming anything in particular, just humming as she deep throats him again, causing his balls to tighten and his hips to thrust further into her face. She pulls back again, running her tongue up and down his cock, putting pressure on the vein on the underside and Clint is moaning and swearing, telling her all the things he wants to do to her, has wanted to do to her, for years now.
"Fuck, Tasha," he almost shouts. "You feel so fucking good. I'm gonna fuck you so hard. Gonna fuck you straight into the mattress. Wanted to since the day I met you. You're so fucking sexy, shit, Tash."
Natasha can feel the wetness that's seeping out of her, so much so that she's sure Clint can smell her. Smell how much she wants him.
She moans appreciatively around him, sucking and licking and kissing the head of his cock as her right hand pulls and milks his shaft.
And suddenly, Clint's grabbing her hair and yanking her up and Natasha moans in pleasure, not pain.
He quickly turns them around so that she's the one pressed against the door, her back to his front, so that he can grind his arousal into her ass as she pushes against him.
Clint fists himself with one hand as he uses the other to swipe an index finger from Natasha's clit to her opening, his eyes rolling as he feels how wet she is.
"Feel how wet I am, baby? That's all for you, that's all because of you," she says, moaning as he pushes her harder into the door.
The side of her face is pressed up against the dark wood of the door, as well as her breasts and her hands, palms on either side of her shoulders. Her back is arched so that her ass sticks out towards him, his hard cock cupped between her two, perfect ass cheeks.
The sight is so heavenly and so motherfucking sexy. Clint's been waiting for this moment for quite a few years and he's so turned on he almost comes all over her lace covered ass.
He uses his feet to slide hers further apart and doesn't even bother to remove her panties, instead pulling the crotch aside and, Jesus, she's so wet, he slides right in.
They both groan simultaneously, Clint's hands coming to rest on her hips as Natasha shouts in ecstasy into the door. Fuck all if anyone hears them; Natasha can't be assed enough to care.
When she grinds her ass against him in encouragement to keep moving, Clint pulls back and then thrusts into her, hard.
Natasha's screaming her pleasure as he snaps his hips against hers and he's pressing her so hard against the door that it's starting to creak. Natasha can just barely make out the soft sounds of people, other agents walking past Clint's room, and it only serves to turn her on more, make her wetter as she wonders if they can hear the sounds of Clint fucking her into the door.
Clint is breathing hard through his nose as he continues to thrust, but he's going to come soon, despite his wanting to make their first time last, if only for a few minutes longer.
He slides one hand up and around her ribs, pulling down one of the cups of her bra to pull at one of her nipples, forcing a shriek out of Natasha as she uses the muscles in her pussy to squeeze around him and it's all he can do to not come right now.
His other hand moves between her thighs and he dips two fingers into her, making her shudder as he stretches her even more, then takes them back out to slide them up her lips, rubbing circles on her clit.
"Yes, Clint, oh my god, yes," Natasha sobs, arching her back to get him deeper, please God, deeper. "I need you please, yes, oh, yes."
Clint's hitting that spot buried deep inside of her, one that no man has ever touched, and one that her fingers aren't long enough to reach and he keeps getting it, and the combination of him hitting that spot, rubbing her clit, and tweaking her sensitive nipples sends Natasha over the edge, sobbing her release and causing her to convulse underneath him.
Her orgasm spreads through her like fire and her pussy spasms around him, and suddenly Clint lets out a grunt, his hips stuttering and pushing into her one last time. She feels the heat of him as he spills into her and she can't be assed to worry much about the fact that they didn't use protection right now.
He falls against Natasha, cock still inside her, but she finds she doesn't care as they both breathe heavily, gasping for air, and little spasms wrack through them in the aftershock of their orgasms.
They're both sure their whole floor has heard them but neither really care as Natasha tilts her head up so that her lips meet Clint's, whose head has been resting in the crook between her shoulder and neck.
The kiss they share this time is gentle and slow, much different from their first and it's in this moment that Natasha realizes that there's no one she would rather be doing this with than Clint.
She's known about his feelings for her for a while, but it's taken her until now to realize that, holy shit, she feels the exact same way about him.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, the Black Widow is screaming at her, calling her a fool and telling her there's still time, if she runs now, she can still save herself. Does she not remember that love is for children?
But Natasha, for once in her life, decides not to listen to the Widow, puts all of her focus into kissing Clint, feeling him against her, around her, inside her. And she thinks, love may be for children, but so are games, and isn't that exactly what they've been doing this whole time?
Title comes from lyrics in "Love Connection" by Cassiotone For The Painfully Alone.