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“You don’t have to do this, Tasha,” Clint said.
Natasha hummed in response as she cleaned up the cuts he had sustained from jumping through a window. She wasn’t sure how he had managed to walk away from the fight relatively unscathed, but she figured there would be bruises in the morning. There were already deep red contusions marking up her fair skin in addition to the swollen spot on her bottom lip. She could see the bump beginning to form at his hairline where his head had connected with the metal railing. It had been a desperation move, but it brought her Clint back.
The thought made her pause. Her Clint.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
Judging by the look on his face, Clint obviously wasn’t buying it. He closed his hands around her wrist and took it away from his face, forcing her to look him in the eye. The last thing Natasha wanted to deal with after saving the world the mess of emotions for her partner she had long kept tamped down, but here she was staring them in the face.
“Tasha...”
Heart pounding in her chest, Natasha found it hard to put words to what she felt for her partner. Clint was more than just her partner, that much was certain. He was one of very few people who she trusted implicitly. Even with the close calls that they have had in the past, nothing had rattled her so much as nearly losing him to Loki. He had used the trust she and Clint had built over the years against her. What Loki had threatened in the cage still turned her insides ice cold. If she hadn’t been able to knock him out of Clint’s mind, if Loki had somehow won... she shuddered to think of it. Clint watched her closely, trying to read her and looked worried. Emotion rose up thick in her throat, making it impossible to speak. Natasha pressed her forehead against Clint’s and took a deep breath.
Instead of saying anything, Clint reached up and wrapped his hand around the base of her neck, not pulling her in, but resting there. It was a simple gesture that spoke volumes. Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his skin against her own. There was something lingering between them that had always danced around the edges, but now Natasha acutely aware of it. It was a tangible thing that demanded her attention now, and she couldn’t ignore it.
No, it wasn’t love. It was so much more than just romance or attraction; it was something she had never felt for anyone but Clint.
“Tasha, say something. You’re starting to worry m-”
Natasha silenced Clint by pressing their mouths together.
It took him a moment to respond and then his hands were on her, tangled in her hair and cupping her face. She responded in kind, wrapping her arms around him in an attempt to feel more of his warmth. His mouth was surprisingly soft against hers, but also demanding and eager. Relief flooded her body and was quickly overcome by the years of desire that had built up to this point - she needed more of him; she needed all of him. It felt so natural as she crawled into his lap, her knees planted on either side of his hips.
Clint groaned into her mouth and slid his hands down her back until they came to rest on the curve of her ass. They were pressed together intimately, the thin fabric of Natasha’s tank top and underwear doing very little to dull the way his muscular body moved beneath the material. Her hands memorized the curve of his back, fingers getting quickly accustomed to the smooth skin she found there. It seemed so silly that crossing this line had terrified her so, and now it was quickly becoming second nature to her.
She kissed him greedily, unable to get enough of him now that she finally had him. His grip tightened on her as she pressed her lips to the pulse point in his throat. This was all for her even though she secretly felt like it always had, and perhaps that was why she had been so taken aback when she heard the news of his capture. Loki had taken something that was hers, and she had never quite learned to share. High on this feeling of possessiveness, Natasha set her teeth into the curve of Clint’s neck and heard him suck in a breath.
Natasha raised her eyes to judge Clint’s reaction and found his pupils slightly dilated. Rather than immediately returning to the same spot, she took the chance to kiss him again. She noted how he reacted differently to each touch - matching each kiss with equal fervor and holding onto her tightly, but becoming pliant when she bit him. The low rumble of his voice as he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. One thing was certain - she was as much his as he was hers.
“Tell me what you want, Tasha,” Clint said.
“You,” she replied, “I want all of you.”
Clint raised his hand hand to her face and she couldn’t help but lean into it. “You’ve had me for a long time.”
Natasha moved his hand from her face to the hem of her shirt, resting it between her skin and the fabric, and looked at him expectantly. Taking the hint, Clint placed his other hand in the same position and slid them upward until they came into contact with her breasts. He was remarkably gentle with her as he caressed them, thumbs working small circles around her nipples until they were hard and sensitive. His cock was hard between her thighs despite the layers of fabric and even harder when she rocked against him. Eyes slipping closed, Natasha allowed both sensations to overtake her. She needed to feel Clint inside of her to quell the deep ache she felt for him.
Clint pushed her shirt up, exposing her breasts to the cool air of the room so he could get his mouth on them. Natasha gave a surprised little grunt when he sucked one peak between his lips, tongue lavishing attention upon the sensitive flesh. She fisted her hand in his hair, unsure of whether or not she wanted to urge him to continue or to drag his mouth back up to her own. The velvety feeling of his tongue was quickly replaced by the sharp edges of his teeth, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to send a jolt through her. The dampness between her thighs was soaking through her cotton panties now, her body ready to welcome Clint inside. By the time he had moved onto her other breast, Natasha was keening and unable to sit still in his lap. She pulled the shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind her, and threaded her fingers through Clint’s hair until he turned his face up to her.
Clint stroked her sides with his callused hands. His eyes searched hers and she could see the same longing she felt mirrored in his face. Within the matter of a few seconds, there wasn’t anything left between their bodies. Natasha urged Clint back onto the bed as they kissed, hands running over cuts and bruises and sore muscles. His mouth traced the curve of her collarbone, and she arched against him, wanting to maintain as much contact with his body as she could. Every inch of her was attuned to his touch, eager to feel the delicious friction of his skin against her own. He worked his way down her body, pausing to kiss and lick at her breasts again until she was squirming beneath him, and didn’t stop until he was settled between her parted thighs. Clint looked up at her, the expression on his face a mixture of unabashed desire and supplication.
“Can I do this? Can I go down on you, Tasha?” he asked, his breath ghosting over her most intimate of areas.
Natasha shivered. “Please,” she replied, her voice desperate and breathy.
The first touch of his tongue made Natasha gasp in surprise and drop her head back against the pillows. Just as careful as he had been with her breasts, Clint ran the tip of his tongue along each fold and teased around the edge of her entrance. He was taking his time, paying attention to every inch of her and lapping up her wetness with a deep hum of pleasure that vibrated through her entire being. Natasha canted her hips against his mouth, desperate to give into the building pressure at the base of her. It was maddening how long it took him to finally reach her clit, but beyond worth the wait once he set his lips and tongue to the sensitive bundle of nerves. He worked at her relentlessly, focusing all of his attention on the act of pleasuring her. Just the thought of it made her pulse pound. All of a sudden, that increasing tension snapped, and she was gasping and calling out his name as she came apart. His hands came up to rest on her hips, lightly holding her as he pushed her over the edge.
Natasha dug her fingers into the bedsheets as she rode out each wave of her orgasm. Her chest heaved with every ragged breath. Clint kept licking at her pussy until she drew herself away from him, too sensitive to have his tongue touching her there. He made his way back up to her mouth, and she could see her own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. He tasted like her when she kissed him, and she sucked hungrily on his tongue until she could taste him again. Natasha licked the rest of her slick from Clint’s face, and he responded by pinning her arms above her head and kissing the breath out of her. This time, it was his turn to rub against her desperately, and she felt that familiar ache deep inside again.
“Tasha, please,” he begged, “need to be inside you. Tell me you want this.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” Natasha groaned and brought her hands up to his face, kissing him deeply.
When Clint entered her, Natasha sighed with relief and welcomed his cock inside of her body. He was thick enough to make her inner walls stretch to accommodate his size, but the sensation was a perfect combination of pain and pleasure. Fully seated inside of her, Clint groaned and dropped his forehead to her chest. She stroked his hair for a moment before he collected himself and began to move inside of her.
“God Tasha, you feel so fucking good,” Clint breathed into her ear. “Thought about this so much.”
Natasha moaned, running her hands up his back. “Love how you feel inside of me,” she gasped before pulling him down for a kiss.
Clint drove himself into her again and again, making it impossible for Natasha to keep quiet. Each time he thrust into her body, his cock pressed up against her g-spot and sent wave after wave of pleasure up her spine. He locked eyes with her and the intensity she saw there made her gasp. Natasha touched his cheek, smiling when he turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand and gave her a sexy little grin. She drew her legs up around his hips, digging her heels into the firm curve of his ass.
Natasha could hear the change in Clint’s breathing and felt that he had to be close. The idea of having Clint come inside of her was something that Natasha had thought about many times. The intimacy of that act, something she had never allowed any other man to do, was exhilarating. She could open herself up to Clint because she trusted him. Leaning up, Natasha brushed her lips against the outer shell of Clint’s ear as she spoke, “I want you to come inside of me, Clint.”
As if devoid of any willpower, Clint whimpered and buried his face in the crook of Natasha’s neck, thrusts growing impatient and rough. One hand slid up the back of her thigh, urging her legs further apart. Natasha dug her fingers into his strong shoulders, holding on for dear life as he pounded into her. She loved the feel of his muscles working beneath her hands and growled appreciatively in his ear. Still riding high from her last orgasm, she was quickly overcome by a second climax just before she felt Clint go still. Groaning what sounded like her name, he held onto her tightly and spilled himself inside of her.
Completely spent, Clint collapsed on top of Natasha in a boneless pile. He was practically a dead weight on top of her, but she didn’t mind at all. She stroked lazily along Clint’s back, enjoying the warm press of his body and the way his breathing was gradually going back to a deep, steady rhythm. He nuzzled at her throat, pressing little kisses on his way up to her mouth. She couldn’t help but laugh at this surprising show of affection. It was nice, though, being able to see this side of him.
“Hey,” she said with a grin and gently held Clint’s face between her hands.
“Hey,” he echoed.
What struck Natasha was how normal this all felt. They had crossed a pretty big line in their partnership and it seemed... natural, like they had been working up to this moment since he brought her into S.H.I.E.L.D. instead of killing her outright. She supposed that she had known it for a while, watching the way he looked at her gradually change over the years. They resettled themselves in the bed, lazily kissing and touching each other until they were too tired to even do that. Natasha drifted to sleep listening to the sound of Clint’s strong heartbeat. Given what they had been through the past few days, having Clint in her arms and in her bed was the best possible result.