This is just a smutty little drabble I wrote for one of my tumblr friends. The prompt was based off of a kinks meme and they submitted Coprolalia (being turned on from dirty talk), Endytophilia (having sex while partially clothed), and Haptephilia (being turned on from being touched). I tried to incorporate all three a little bit. Hope you like it!

First Time

Natasha groaned as a ray of sunlight hit her eyes, waking her up from sleep. She rolled over and buried her face into the nearby pile of pillows and blankets, trying to recapture the deep peaceful feeling she'd just been awoken from. A moment later her eyes popped open when her fogged mind realized that the pile of pillows and blankets was actually a very solid arm and shoulder. She half sat up, pushing a tangle of red curls out of her face.

"Clint?" She poked him in the side, "what the hell happened last night?"

Clint rubbed his face and cracked an eye open at her, "nothing, Tasha. Stark spilled booze on your shirt in hopes you'd take it off. Then we went back here."

She nodded, both relived and disappointed that they hadn't done anything together. It seemed to her that they had been dancing around each other for months—wanting each other but too afraid to make the first move. Still, it wasn't that uncommon for her to wake up in Clint's bed, or vise versa; they were best friends after all, she usually crashed at his place more often that she stayed at hers. Tasha liked being around him.

Clint put his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down. "Go back to bed, it's like seven in the morning," he grumbled.

Tasha let herself sink back into the cocoon of blankets with a sigh. Clint kept his hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles into her skin. Slowly she felt the pads of his fingers tracing up and down her arm.

"Mmm, that feels nice," she murmured, sleep still heavy in her voice.

And it did; it felt like a pleasant, warm burning fire was spreading over her skin. After a few minutes, Tasha wiggled onto her stomach, and Clint's hand moved to the small of her back. Her breath hitched as he stroked the sliver of skin that peeked out between her sweatpants and t-shirt. Slowly, almost reverently, Clint pushed the edge of her shirt up as he traced the curve of her spine. His fingers were warm and calloused, but in a way that sent electricity shooting through her body.

She turned her head to look at him. There was a serious, focused look on his face and tenderness in his eyes.

"Clint," it was more of a breath than a word.

He moved his hand to cup her cheek and stroke her smooth, soft skin. "Yeah, Tasha?"

She bit her lip to keep from moaning as he brushed a few stray curls behind her ear, tangling his fingers in her tresses as he did so.

"Don't stop." She didn't just mean caressing her, though of course she didn't want that to stop. She mean, and she was sure he understood, that she didn't want him to stop, to pull away, or be afraid. She wanted to move their relationship forward.

He nodded and sat up a little, "take your shirt off, baby."

Tasha almost thought about protesting at the name baby, but she found she liked it when he said it to her. Instead she wriggled out of the confining fabric of her shirt and tossed it to the floor. She sighed in contentment as the cool air hit her breasts, causing her nipples to harden into peaks. Tasha was fairly certain Clint had seen her naked a few times, and besides, nudity had never really bothered her. With a mischievous glance at his slightly pink cheeks, she laid back down on her stomach.

Clint straddled her bum and slowly began to massage the planes of her back. She could feel herself growing wet as his palms pressed into her spine and his fingers traced the curve of her waist. Much to her delight, Tasha could feel his arousal growing against her backside. Suddenly, Clint leaned forward and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades; it sent a bolt of electricity straight to her core.

Slowly he kissed his way up her back to the nape of her neck, and ran his hands down her arms to tangle their fingers together, making the little hairs on her arms stand on edge. The press of his clothed chest against her bare back was torture—Tasha wanted to feel his skin on hers. Taking her earlobe between his teeth, Clint tugged playfully at it. Tasha growled and rubbed her ass against him.

This was it; they were finally going to take the next step. Tasha could hardly breathe as Clint pressed his hard body against hers and nibbled at her neck. She felt as if her skin was too tight to contain her heartbeats.

"Clint."

"Do you like it when I take control, Tasha?"

She laughed. With a wiggle of her hips and a well placed heel, she flipped him onto his back. Sitting up, she rested her hands on his chest. Slowly, she started gyrating against his growing erection—enjoying and despising the layers of clothing between their bodies.

"It's about time one of us did," she said half joking.

They stared at each other for a moment as she sat, straddling his hips and naked from the waist up. The enormity of the moment was finally sinking in. Natasha could fuck a man without letting emotions get involved, but this wouldn't be one of those times. He reached up and touched her cheek again.

"You're so beautiful, Natasha," sincerity and tenderness mingled in his voice.

She stopped moving and turned away from his touch, looking down at an empty space on the bed. That's what all the men she'd fucked on missions had said. You're so beautiful. All empty words in pursuit of something else.

Realizing he said something wrong, Clint sat up, and wrapped his arm around her waist, the other still cradling her face. Bright morning sunlight spilled in from the window, filling the empty space between their bodies. "What's wrong, прекрасное?"

Resting her forehead against his, she gave him a soft smiled. She liked the way his tongue twisted around her native language; the way he said the syllables with an almost, but not quite, perfect accent. It helped remind her that whatever had happened her past wasn't what was happening now. Clint cared about her, and she cared about him.

"Nothing, Clint. I…I've just wanted this for so long," she laughed nervously. "I feel like I'm fifteen again."

He chuckled and kissed her bottom lip, "me too. God, I think I've been mad for you since I laid eyes on you."

She grinned and crashed her lips down on his, kissing him like her life depended on it. His lips were a little rough, but she liked the feeling. He responded and soon his tongue was exploring the soft curves of her mouth. She groaned and rubbed her hips against his, her body aching for friction. Hands scrambling at his sides, she torn his shirt off and let her fingers explore the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, while he trailed his fingers lightly up and down her arms. God he felt good against her. Holding her tight, Clint flipped them so she was on her back. Tasha locked her legs around his waist and moaned at the feeling of his cock pressed against her aching center.

Clint moved his attention to her neck, alternating soft kisses with sharp bites down to her chest. She gasped in pleasure and raked her nails down his back. She loved it when men played with her breasts, and judging from the look on his face, Clint had thought about exactly what he'd like to do with them in great detail.

He cupped one breast in his large hand, his thumb playing with her sensitive peak. Looking into her eyes, he slowly lowered his mouth to her other breast, his tongue circling her nipple. He sucked and rolled it in his mouth, tasting her body. A moment later he blew on the sensitive flesh, causing her to arch her back as the air cooled her wetted skin. Clint took the other hard peaks into his mouth and rolled the pink pebble between his lips.

She felt like she was on fire, the slow, steady flames of his hands licking at her flesh and sending tremors of pleasure pulsing through her body straight to her wet pussy. Every twitched of fabric against her aching clit was torture; she wanted him and she wanted him now.

"Clint," she whined, running her fingers through his hair as he pressed his face between her breasts. "Oh god, Clint. Fuck me."

He chuckled as he sat back on his haunches to look in her eyes. "Okay, Tasha. Whatever my favorite girl wants," he said with a soft tone to his voice. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her sweatpants, he tugged them down her pale legs.

"I see you really are a natural red head," he teased.

Laughing, she grabbed the nearest pillow and thwacked him over the head with it. She would have smacked him again, but Clint captured her wrist, kissing it while he pulled the pillow away. She willingly held her other wrist up for him and he pinned her hands above her head. She'd always liked to play a little rough, and she definitely trusted Clint to not push her limits. As he brought himself to straddle her again, Tasha used her feet to push off his sweatpants with the help of his free hand. With a final kick of his feet, they both were completely naked. She couldn't help but to let her eyes trail down his body.

Holding her wrists in one hand, Clint brought his other hand down to grip his thick cock. He stroked himself a few times; his movements were slow and she knew he was teasing her. And damn him, it was working. She felt a shudder of pleasure run through her as she watched him touch himself of her benefit. A small pearl of precum appeared on the head of his cock and she licked her lips.

"See something you want, baby?" He whispered, sending another shiver down her spine.

She gave a heady chuckle, "yeah…I think you better put that arrow back in its quiver before someone gets hurt."

She bit down on her lip to keep from laughing, and wondered who would break into giggle first. She hadn't meant to make a joke out of it, but the words had flown out of her mouth before she could stop them. Looking straight into her eyes, Clint rubbed his velvet head against her entrance in slow deliberate strokes, wetting his shaft with her slickness. She groaned and bucked her hips toward him again, despite for more.

"I seem to have misplaced my quiver, can I use yours?"

Tasha's giggles soon turned into a low moan as he sheathed his length inside of her. She felt her body part and open for him as his cock stretched her pussy. Clint let go of her wrists to brace himself above her, and Tasha wrapped one arm around his shoulders while tangling her other hand in the short hair at the nape of his neck. By god it felt good to have him inside of her; in her opinion, thickness was better than length, but Clint had both.

Once he was completely inside of her, he became utterly still. She looked up at him, and stroked the curve of his cheekbone. Clint closed his eyes and turned into her touch. He kissed her palm before slowly lowering his mouth to hers. She could feel his cool breath against her inflamed skin; she could hardly breathe as he came nearer, but for once she didn't mind. Capturing her lips, he slowly began to rock back and forth. She moaned and matched his motions, eager to feel him fill her over and over again.

"God Tasha, you're so tight," he gasped against her lips.

His words felt like lightening under her skin. "mmm yes, say it again," she panted.

He moved his lips to her neck again, to bite and suck at the sensitive, pale skin. "I said, your pussy is so tight, Tasha."

"Oooh god yes," she moan and ran her nails down the length of his back in order to grip his ass. She wanted his cock as deep inside of her as possible. Untangling her leg from around his waist, she hooked it on his shoulder. Clint groaned in response.

"Christ. Fuck. You're so flexible."

"Ballet dancer and acrobat, remember?" She breathed her word into his ear, before nibbling on the sensitive skin right behind his earlobe.

"That's right," he chuckled. "My girl. My dirty girl. Do you like it when I fuck you, baby?"

She closed her eyes and arched her back against him. Every stroke of his cock hit just the right spot to make her whole body tremor underneath him. "I'm so close. Don't stop…don't stop talking," she moaned.

Clint turned his head to the side and kissed the back of her knee, his tongue teasing the little dimple of flesh. He sat back a little and squeezed one of her breasts, before tweaking the nipple.

"Do you like having my cock in you, baby? Does your little pussy like being fucked?" His thrusts came at the end of his questions, hard and fast. "Have you fantasized about this? Did you finger yourself and think about my cock instead?"

Natasha could feel him throb inside of her and she knew he was just as close as she was. It was so sexy to hear quiet, soft spoken Clint say such filthy things out loud. It made her heart hammer in her chest and her pussy clench in anticipation. She could feel the haze of pleasure descend around her and soon all she could focus on was the aching fullness of his cock pounding into her. Her moans came out as low whines.

Clint moved his hand down from her breast to the apex of her thighs. Frantically he rubbed her clit with his thumb, matching the rhythm with his thrusts. That last touch was enough to send her over the edge and Natasha screamed while digging her nails into his back as her pussy tightened and clenched around his cock. A moment later, Clint followed, finding his release deep inside of her.

Their hips slowly stopped moving as they came down from their high. Clint rolled over on to his back, still breathing heavily, arms outstretched across the pillows. After a moment, Natasha tentatively rested her head against his chest and slowly started drawing circles on his stomach with her finger. He brought one arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him, before capturing her wayward hand with his free one.

"That's how we got into this position in the first place, Tasha," he murmured as he kissed her forehead.

Natasha chuckled mischievously before hooking her leg over his. "Maybe that's why I'm doing it."

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