Natasha sighed softly as she listened to Melinda May lectured the class on proper pronunciation of basic French conversation phrases. Clint was resting with his head on his crossed arms. He already had been given this very same lecture by his adopted mother the night before. And that very morning. But Natasha still gently – as gently as she could do – kicked him under their desk, making the eighteen-year-old jump at a start. He turned to glare at the red-head who was biting back a smirk as she continued to take down notes off the board. Well, it was only fair he pay attention if she had to listen to this lecture.
Clint raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend when she refused to look at him. He turned to look if anyone was watching them, but since they were in the back row, no one was paying attention to them. So Clint slyly slid his hand up the inside of Natasha's thigh, making the red-head's breath hitch. She twisted her head slightly to look at him, watching him carefully as he kept his eyes on the board. She waited for him to move his hand either higher or lower but he didn't. He simply left it there. So she returned to taking down notes.
Just as she thought Clint was finished playing with her and simply wanted to touch her, her boyfriend slipped his hand under her skirt – why she had chosen to wear a skirt today, she didn't know. But she was beginning to think she had given her boyfriend an unfair advantage. He slid his hand higher up her leg. He stayed away from her panties. She was getting flustered now. She was beginning to wonder why Clint had decided to use this as a revenge method before remembering the previous night. She had stayed over in his house, the two of them studying for a Math test later.
Natasha groaned as she leaned back and stretched, a few vertebrae cracking back into place after sitting bent over the table. Clint had since buried his head in his arms, groaning every now and again, cursing their Math teacher, Mr. Sitwell. She reached over and brushed her hand over his soft hair. "Come on, Clint. We need to sleep," she murmured softly, glancing at the clock. It read 12.39.
Clint groaned before lifting his head to look at his girlfriend. Her hair was pulled up in a high, messy ponytail, a few stray locks falling into her face. She was wearing one of his old hoodies and her face was make-up free. And to Clint, she never looked more beautiful than she did at the moment. Clint looked over at his bed, realising that it was still messy and unmade from this morning. "I'm sorry my room is such a mess," he mumbled sleepily.
Natasha smirked before standing up. She pulled Clint up out of his chair, pushing him towards the bed. "I wouldn't expect anything else," she informed him as he fell into the bed. "Get changed into your pjs," she added as she disappeared into his adjoining bathroom, stealing one of Clint's T-shirts as she went.
Clint groaned and slowly climbed back off the bed, quickly stripping down to his boxers, tossing his clothes haphazardly towards the hamper by the door. He pulled on his pyjama bottoms and decided to forgo a shirt. He climbed back into his bed, moving against the wall, leaving room for Natasha. He closed his eyes and waited for his girlfriend to come out of the bathroom.
Natasha quickly changed out of her clothes and changed into Clint's T-shirt. She folded her clothes neatly and left them on the bathroom counter beside the sink. She quietly left the bathroom to find her boyfriend, lying in bed against the wall, leaving space for her. She smiled at the sight of his hair sticking up in every random way. He had forgone a shirt so Natasha took her time to take in his barely hidden abs and his built biceps, both a result of the vigorous training regime he had set himself and his archery.
"See something you like, Tasha?" Clint suddenly asked, opening his eyes to look at his girlfriend. He paused in surprise when he saw what she was wearing; his old Iowa Clint shirt. And that was it. At least, all he could see. Her pale firm legs were bare to his eyes.
Natasha couldn't help but smirk when she caught Clint's eyes wandering. She strutted over to the bed, putting an extra sway to her hips. She pushed Clint back down when he rose to meet her. "Down, boy," she teased, pecking his lips as she pushed him against the wall, snuggling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"You're such a tease, Tasha," he complained playfully, pulling her closer to him. He nuzzled his face into her hair, sighing in content when she relaxed in his arms He almost jumped when she pushed her feet in between his legs. "Jesus, Tasha. Did you put your feet in ice before getting into bed?" he asked as he pulled back to look at her.
"Shut up," she mumbled, closing her eyes and listening to Clint's steady heartbeat. She slowly rolled so Clint was spooning her, smirking smugly when she heard his breathing hitched as she pushed her ass back against him. "Go to sleep, Clint. We have school in the morning," she murmured, even though she was smirking at him.
Clint groaned. "You're a minx, Tasha. Torturing me like that," he muttered, pulling her closer. "Revenge will be a bitch, Baby," he informed her.
Natasha elbowed him for the pet name but replied, "We'll see…"
'Oh, those famous last words,' she thought as Clint teased her.
Clint bit back a smirk when he slid his hand under the fabric of Natasha's skirt. She hadn't slapped him yet so he kept going. He brushed two fingers just below the apex of her thighs, maintaining a small distance from her panties. He brushed a finger near the rim of her panties, making Natasha moan lowly at her boyfriend's actions.
"Natasha, are you okay?" Melinda suddenly asked, making Natasha almost groan in response. Almost.
"Yes, Miss. Just a cramp in my leg from training this morning," Natasha lied even as Clint continued to tease his fingers further up her leg until he was a hair breath away from her lower lips. "I'll be fine."
Melinda raised an eyebrow but said nothing more, turning back to the board. After she shouted at Brock Rumlow when he made some lewd comment about Clint training Natasha. Or wondering whether it was the other way around.
Natasha dropped her pen and sighed to Clint, 'What the fuck are you up to, Barton?'
Clint smirked and spelled out, 'Revenge, Baby.'
Just as she was about to respond, the bell rang for end of period – and the end of the school day. Clint brushed his index and middle finger over her panties before retracting his hand and packing up. Natasha took a moment to collect herself before she began to pack up as well.
Melinda had walked up to the two, raising an eyebrow at them. "Do I want to know whether you two were paying attention in class or doing something that I don't want to know about?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Clint and Natasha both shook their heads. "We weren't doing anything, Mrs. Coulson," Natasha lied, tossing her bag onto her back. "I went for a run this morning and I don't think I stretched properly. It's been sore all morning."
Melinda looked at them both before sighing. "Okay. You know that Phil and I have a have a wedding to go to tomorrow. And that we're leaving tonight," she started, looking at her adopted son. "Will you be able to give Skye a lift over to Jemma's this evening? They're having a study session this evening and she's staying over," she requested.
"Sure, Mom," Clint replied, shrugging nonchalantly as he threw his bag over his shoulder. "Are you and Dad coming home to collect your bags?"
"No. We thought it would be easier to leave from here," Melinda replied. "Your brother should be home on Sunday. And Ashley's coming too."
Clint bit back a smirk at the knowledge of his parents being gone the next two days, with his little sister being gone as well. "Okay. Do you want me to get anything while you're gone?"
Melinda shook her head. "No. The fridge is stocked and there's money in the usual spot if you want to order pizza," she replied, smiling as she turned to Natasha. "You're welcome to stay as long as it's okay with Nick and Maria," she informed the red-head.
Natasha nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Coulson," the red-head replied.
"Natasha, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Melinda outside of class?" Melinda asked as she walked back down to her desk with the two teenagers following her. "No. Don't answer that. I will see you on Sunday. Don't wreck the house," she instructed them as they walked out the door.
Once the door closed behind them, Clint turned to his girlfriend, a smug smirk crossing his features. "The perfect Miss Natasha Romanoff almost got caught with her boyfriend's hand up her skirt," he teased her, his voice low so no one but Natasha could hear him.
Natasha glared at him. "You, Mr. Barton, are the biggest prick I have ever met," she replied, walking past him towards the exit.
Clint grinned and jogged to catch up with her. "You love me really," he teased, gently catching her hand and interlacing their fingers. "Come on, Tasha," he whispered, pulling her close when she shook her head. "I was messing with you, Tash. I don't expect anything," he whispered, cupping her face with his left hand.
Natasha bit her lip as she looked up at her boyfriend. "Was that your revenge for last night?" she asked, sounding so unlike her.
Clint nodded, a frown of concern crossing his features. "Yes. Shit, Tasha, I didn't mean to -…" he started but cut himself off when she shook her head.
"I just didn't expect it," she replied, pulling away slowly and walking towards the exit, keeping her hand in his.
Clint took it as a good sign as she kept his hand in hers while they walked out to his car. But he knew that this wasn't the end of their conversation...
After leaving Skye at Jemma Simmons, Clint drove Natasha to her own house to grab a bag before driving home. He, deciding to be chivalrous, took her bags and brought them upstairs for her, despite her protests. He came back down, just to catch Natasha pulling a hoodie over her T-shirt. "So that's where that hoodie disappeared to," he stated rather than asked, walking into the kitchen and grabbing the house phone. "What type pizza do you want?" he called out.
"Barbeque chicken," she replied, walking into the kitchen. She leaned against the doorframe as he rang the pizza parlour and ordered their usual. She was lost in thought about his actions in French when he was suddenly in front of her, looking at her with concern.
"Tasha?" he whispered, cupping her cheek in his left hand.
Natasha shook her head and smiled at her boyfriend. "I'm fine, Clint. Just got lost in a thought," she replied, leaning forward and kissing him softly.
Clint was surprised by Natasha kissing him but he was quick to kiss back, slowly bringing his hands down to rest on her hips. His fingers bunched in the worn fabric of his well-worn hoodie, not knowing what to do with his hands as she brought her arms up around his neck. He had a good three inches on her so he had to bend his head slightly to meet her lips.
Natasha opened her mouth under Clint's, moaning when her boyfriend took the hint and slipped his tongue between her parted lips. They battled for dominance of the kiss as Clint led them further into the kitchen before suddenly lifted Natasha onto the counter so they were level. Natasha let out a gasp as her bottom hit the marble counter, giving Clint the opportunity to dominant their impromptu make-out session. The red-head brought one of her hands to the collar of Clint's shirt, fisting it in a bunch, while her other stayed on the back of his neck, keeping his lips locked to hers.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of their pizza. Clint reluctantly pulled away from his girlfriend's lips. "I'll be right back," he whispered saucily as he pecked her lips once more before grabbing the price of their pizza and some money for a tip and leaving to answer the door.
Natasha took a moment to catch her breath. She hadn't expected Clint to start an impromptu make-out session. Not that she was complaining. She looked up when Clint came in carrying two pizza boxes and a bottle of Coke-Cola.
"Dinner is served, milady," he said in a fake British accent, bowing as he spoke.
Natasha couldn't help but laugh at her boyfriend, shaking her head as she hopped off the counter and walked over to the cabinets to get two glasses. She followed Clint out into the living-room, where he had laid the two pizza boxes on the coffee table. And then he'd gone over to the DVD player, fiddling with the controls. "What do you want to watch?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.
Natasha bit her lip as she thought about it. "What do you have on DVD so that we don't have to load Netflix?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend.
Clint frowned before walking over to the corner where his parents kept their DVD collections. "What sort of movie do you want to watch?" he asked, looking at the different genre – Melinda had all of the DVDs organised by genre in Alphabetical order, then by year. It was pretty amusing for Clint, Skye and Phil.
Natasha smiled. "Coming to America," she replied, curling up on the couch after grabbing a slice of the barbeque chicken. Clint grinned, taking out the DVD she had requested. After putting it in the tray, he joined her on the couch, toeing off his trainers before curling his legs up onto the couch. He wrapped his arm gently around Natasha's waist, pulling her closer as he grabbed a slice of the pizza for himself.
Natasha rested her head on Clint's shoulder, sighing in content when he pressed his lips to her temple softly while the opening credits started….
Neither Clint nor Natasha knew who had started it but they had ended up with the red-head straddling Clint, his hoodie, her T-shirt and his top scurried on the floor, leaving them both topless apart from Natasha's lace red bra. Natasha had both of her hands trailing through Clint's hair while he kept his hands on her waist, never moving them without her permission.
Slowly, Natasha pulled away from his lips, both of them panting heavily. She leaned down and nipped on the skin of his neck, making Clint groan in response. "You are allowed to touch me, Clint," she whispered as she made her way back up to his lips.
"After today, I wasn't sure," he confessed, pecking her lips softly.
Natasha pulled back, watching her boyfriend carefully as he gently ran his hands along her sides, up to the band of her bra before slowly moving back down. "I just didn't expect you to do it, Clint," she whispered before claiming his lips with hers. She grabbed his hands and brought them up to the clasp of her bra on her back.
Clint pulled away from her lips, surprise clearly written over his face. "Are… Tasha, are you sure?" he whispered, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.
He found none.
Natasha smiled, leaning down and catching her boyfriend's lips once more in a nibbling kiss. "I'm sure, Clint," she whispered into his mouth.
Suddenly, Clint stood up with Natasha in his arms. "Not here. Bedroom," he whispered when she made a noise of protest against his lips.
Natasha nodded and let Clint carry her upstairs towards his bedroom. He barely broke the kiss as he laid her down on his bed, grinning against her lips when she grabbed his shoulders and flipped them so she was on top. He sat up as she straddled his lap, the very same position when they were down in the living-room. He waited until she grabbed his hands and brought them up to her back, to the clasp of her bra. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he slowly unclasped the red fabric, taking two or three tries to get it unhooked.
Natasha lifted her arms from the spot on Clint's chest, letting her bra straps fall down her arms. She watched his eyes trail down her chest, taking in the sight of her topless on top of him. She tossed her bra behind her carelessly, not paying attention to where it fell.
Clint paused as he took in the sight of Natasha topless and straddling him. He'd seen her in a bikini before but this was the first time he had seen his girlfriend's breasts naked. She was gorgeous. And she was his.
"Like what you see Clint?" Natasha teased as she watched her boyfriend stare at her breasts. Despite the fact that it was making her slightly self-conscious.
"You're like a goddess, Tash," he whispered almost inaudibly. He was in awe of Natasha's body.
Natasha blushed at her boyfriend's statement. She hadn't expected him to say something like that. "Thank you," she whispered. Clint gently caught her lips with his as he brought his hands up to her breasts to play with them. She moaned into his mouth as he massaged her plump mounds, his index fingers and thumbs rolling her nipples. Her large C-cup breasts fit perfectly into his largish hands, their weight picture-perfect in his palms.
Natasha moaned in pleasure when Clint broke the kiss and bent his head down to her chest. He took her right nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over her areola experimentally, smirking when she gasped his name loudly. "Fuck, Clint..." she moaned, tossing her head back as he sucked and nipped on her sensitive skin. How did he know how to this? No, she didn't want to know that.
"Yes, Tasha?" he muttered teasingly as he nipped and sucked his way across her chest to her other nipple.
"Please don't tease me, Clint," Natasha practically begged before her boyfriend wrapped his lips around her left breast, sucking on her nipple hungrily. The red-head's hands went straight to Clint's hair, threading her fingers through the brown strands of his hair, tugging gently when he trailed his teeth over her sensitive areola.
"I'm not," Clint mumbled against her chest as he let go of her nipple with a loud, wet 'pop'. "I'm planning to make you beg for release, Tasha," he whispered as he kissed and sucked his way down his girlfriend's body, moving them so Natasha was underneath him on the blanket.
"Oh Gods... Clint," Natasha moaned as said boyfriend slid his tongue teasingly into her belly button, making the red-head squirm at the, surprisingly, pleasurable sensation.
Clint smirked against Natasha's skin as he brought his hands to his girlfriend's skirt. "I will always remember this skirt," the eighteen-year-old whispered, smirking up at the red-head smugly.
"Caveman," she muttered, leaning down and claiming his lips in a hungry kiss. The red-head gasped as Clint suddenly brushed his thumb over her clit, making her moan loudly in reply at his actions. "You... tease," she moaned, making Clint smirk smugly in reply. He continued to rub circles on her sensitive nub, the calluses of his thumb adding to the sensation Natasha was experiencing. He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her body until he was between her legs.
"Learned from the best, Tasha," Clint muttered before wrapping his lips around Natasha's clit, switching between sucking and lapping on her sensitive bundle of nerves. Slowly, he brought one hand to trail one of his thick fingers between her soaking wet folds, smirking when she bucked her hips up to his touch.
"How… how am I... a tease?" she gasped, moaning as Clint slipped two fingers inside her, even though she could – when not in the middle of being finger fucked by her boyfriend of three years – think of several times when she was said tease. She grabbed the blanket beneath her, her body responding to everything her boyfriend was doing to her.
"Do you really need to ask me that?" he asked, nipping gently on her clit. "Your porcelain pale skin, your expressionistic green eyes. Your brains. Our wit. Your caring side. Fuck. Natasha, you're my version of perfection." He grinned when, suddenly, she screamed his name, the red-head coming hard.
Natasha smiled at her boyfriend's words when she calmed down from her climax, gripping his shoulders and pulling him away from the apex of her thighs. "Clint," she whispered, the rest of her words catching in the back of her throat; funny how that always seemed to happen to her when she was alone with Clint. "I love you, Clint," she whispered instead.
Clint smiled happily, leaning down and kissing her softly. "I love you too, Natasha. More than anything else I can think of," he whispered against her lips.
She brought one hand to his hair, pulling him closer to her while her free hand tugged on the waistband of his jeans. He had too many clothes on. He gently pulled away, quickly tugging tugged his belt off. He tossed it backwards onto the floor, not caring where it landed. Then he returned his lips to hers, claiming her mouth with his own. His confidence was a shock but welcomed: she, in all her knowledge, knew very little about what they were about to do - she knew the basics of what they were going to do but beyond that, she had no clue. But her thoughts from earlier returned; how did Clint know what to do?
Natasha brought her hands down, slipping her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers. Slowly, she pulled them down, making Clint break the kiss to groan as the fabric brushed his hard sensitive cock. Natasha grinned as she noticed that her boyfriend's eyes were tightly shut. At least she wasn't the only one having trouble keeping control.
She reached between them, noticing how big her boyfriend was as she wrapped her hand around him. Clint gasped as she wrapped her small hand around him. "Natasha. Shit. Condom?" he whispered, groaning as his girlfriend continued to stroke his cock. If she kept that up, he was going to last long. And he really didn't want to come before they actually made love for the first time. He broke the kiss, looking at her for an answer.
"Don't need one. I'm on the Pill," she replied, panting as she tried to catch her breath.
Clint, in response, kissed her hungrily as he helped her guide the head of his cock between her folds and into her entrance. It took a few awkward attempts but eventually he slipped inside her for the first time.
Natasha gasped in moderate pain as he slowly slid inside her, her walls stretching to accommodate his, not just long but, thick length inside her cunt. She grimaced as Clint broke her barrier, a sharp pinching pain shocking through her body.
The eighteen-year-old stilled once he was fully seated inside the red-head, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He'd noticed her grimace. He wanted this, their first time - both together and their respective firsts - to be pleasurable. "Do you still want this, Tasha?" he whispered hoarsely into her skin.
"Yes. The first time always hurts for the first few minutes," she replied, gasping and moaning as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She planted her feet on the curve of his ass, forcing him deeper inside her. "Just give me a few minutes," she whispered, breathing her way through the pain of the breaking of her hymen.
"Whatever you need, Love," he replied, raising his head to look her in the eye. "Fuck, how did I get this lucky, Tasha?" he whispered, bringing one hand up to stroke her face gently.
"Mmmm. You're the one person I know I can always trust," she whispered, pulling him closer. After her shitty childhood in Russia, it was nice to have someone she could trust indefinitely.
"Yeah?" he whispered, peppering kisses along her skin. He knew her past but it was nice to hear her say that she trusted him above anyone else. It just sated some need inside him to be whatever she needed him to be.
"Yes. Now, please fuck me," she moaned, moving one hand to squeeze his ass firmly. The pain had passed, mostly.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied as he slowly pulled back until only the head of his cock was still inside her. Then he slowly pushed back inside her, making her cry out, in mostly pleasure, at his actions. It took them a few tries to get a rhythm going that suited them, but they eventually found it. Clint was moving inside her at a brutal pace, wanting her to come again before he had his own release.
"Yes! Fuck! Yes!" Natasha screamed, tossing her head back in pleasure as Clint set a brutal pace. But it was more than pleasurable for the red-head. "There! Yes! Clint!" she began to rant in Russian, pleasure overriding all her usual control over her body. She was crying out and whimpering at the pleasure that was more noticeable than the pain she had felt earlier.
Clint caught one of her hands, interlacing their fingers as he drove himself deeper inside her. Her feet were pushing down on his ass, her other hand digging into the flesh of the small of his back. "You feel so good," he whispered in between grunts and groans. "Fuck," he groaned, moving his head to suck on her nipples teasingly. He slipped one arm under her back, tilting her hips so he could slide deeper inside her. And he was rewarded with sinful moans of approval from the red-head beneath him.
"Clint," she gasped, tossing her head to the side as said young man moved to his knees, thrusting deeper and harder inside her. "I'm close. Fuck. I'm so close," she moaned, bringing her hand from his lower back to his hair, gripping it firmly as she pulled his mouth to hers.
The two groaned into the kiss, both very close to their orgasms. Clint hooked his arm under one of Natasha's legs, keeping one of her hands pinned to the bed. "Do you... want me.. to pull out.. Natasha?" he gasped, kissing her hungrily while pushing her leg over his shoulder.
Natasha was in too much pleasure to think properly. "No. Please, Clint. Don't pull out," she whimpered, tightening herself around him.
"Fuck," he groaned, finding her permission a sinful seductive gift he would never think he would ever hear from her. "I'm going to come." He brought one hand down between them, rubbing his callus-covered thumb over her clit firmly. He wanted her to come before him, wanted to feel her walls pulse around him as he followed her into falling over the edge.
His thumb rubbing her clit was all she needed to come apart.
Natasha basically screamed Clint's name out in pleasure as she came for the second time, and last time, that night. Her walls clenched hard around his cock, trying to milk him. Her quivering walls made Clint come hard inside her.
He thrust twice, three more times before collapsing on top of her. The two panted heavily as they caught their breath, Clint gently pressing loving kisses along her chest and collarbones.
Natasha slowly opened her eyes, moving her head to gaze at the man whose head was now lying in the valley between her breasts. She brought one of her hands up to trail it through his spiky hair drowsily. "Fuck, Clint," she whispered, trying to remember the last time she felt this relaxed. She couldn't.
"So I did okay?" Clint asked, raising his head to look at her with a shy smile; an odd luck on the face of the school's best archer. And second biggest prankster after Tony Stark.
Natasha returned his smile. "Yes. But where the fuck did you learn to do all that?" She was afraid of the answer but she needed to know.
Clint blushed, another rare look on his face. "Mainly from porn," he replied truthfully, smiling at her shyly. "And when your folder brother isn't embarrassed about talking about sex. Well, let's just say I will never look Ashley in the eye again."
Natasha mentally relaxed and blushed at Clint's words. "I don't need to know anymore," she whispered."
Clint nodded his agreement. Gently the eighteen-year-old climbed off the bed and prodded into his adjoining bathroom. He returned with with a washcloth for Natasha.
Natasha watched her boyfriend with a soft smile as he gently cleaned her lower body. He made sure that she was comfortable with him cleaning her body in such an intimate way. She was starting to feel the soreness returning from earlier but it wasn't that sore to be a discomfort.
Once he was finished cleaning his girlfriend, Clint quickly cleaned himself and returned the washcloth to the bathroom. Natasha rested on her right side, facing the bathroom, waiting for her boyfriend to come back out. She smiled softly at him as he re-entered the bedroom, watching him climb back into the bed behind her. He let her roll over to face him before pulling the sheets over their bodies, warding off the cool September air.
Clint gently stoked one hand along Natasha's side, watching her carefully as they lay in his bed. "Are you okay?" he whispered as she snuck her feet in between his calves.
Natasha smiled and nodded. "Yes. That was most pleasurable," she replied, leaning up and kissing him softly. "I'm a bit sore, but that's normal," she confessed, breaking the kiss to snuggle into his warm chest.
Clint wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He buried his face into Natasha's hair, sighing as he inhaled her scent. "I love you, Tasha," he whispered hoarsely into her hair.
"I love you too, Clint," she whispered against her boyfriend's chest. She smiled sleepily when he tightened his arms around her. She soon fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat under her ear, Clint following her soon afterwards…
Before anyone points it out, yes, I am aware that nine times out of ten, the first time is always awkward. Some girls have horrible first times. I know that. But there are people who had, reasonably good first times. I am aware of a few people whose first times were actually pretty good. So, this story had a relatively good first time. For a change of awkward first times. I hope you all enjoyed and, if you think it was worth it, leave a review :) Thank you :)