A/N: Please see notes at bottom.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Marvel.

Clint steps into the dimly lit club, his eyes narrowing as they adjust. It's Natasha's 20th birthday and she's asked him to meet her here, although Clint's not quite sure how she's gotten in, being under 21 and all.

He spots her at the bar in a skintight, scoop backed dress that looks as if it were painted on. In a moment of awe, Clint remains just outside the bar area, watching Natasha as she laughs at something the bartender says.

Her curls bounce around her slender shoulders as her head tilts back, red lips parted and breasts bouncing. Clint doesn't miss the way the bartender's eyes trail down her throat and land on her chest, leering.

Clint's about to step forward to join Natasha when she's approached by a younger man who looks to be in his early twenties. With a hand pressed against her lower back, the man leans over Natasha, whispers something in her ear.

Ignoring the twinge of jealousy in his gut, Clint thinks the two make a handsome couple and he can't help but remember Chloe's words as they echo in the back of his mind.

Natasha is much younger than him and he wonders what his parents would think. Would they care? He knows they're expecting grandchildren at some point and he can't imagine Natasha wants them anytime soon. To be quite honest, he doesn't really either. He realizes suddenly that this could all be a huge mistake. Not for him, but for Natasha, a beautiful, bright girl with an even brighter future.

Maybe he's holding her back, he thinks, tying her down when she could have any man she desires.

Clint's hands begin to sweat and he can't even be bothered that the younger man is sitting beside Natasha now, a hand on her knee. Every niggling fear and doubt that Clint has ever had about their relationship comes leaping to the surface.

You've made a huge mistake, you're going to ruin her life. So much potential. She's so young.

He takes a step back and then another. Before he knows it, he's back outside, shoulders hunched over and hands shoved into his pockets. He's not quite sure where he's going but he knows he shouldn't have come. He wonders how he ever thought this would work and curses himself for being the one to hurt her. He'll call her tomorrow to apologize for not coming, make up some excuse about work taking up too much time.

So caught up is he in his thoughts that he doesn't hear the fast click of heels behind him until a hand grabs his wrist and yanks him around.

"Clint!" Natasha has hurt written clear across her face.

He's not actually prepared for confrontation and he stutters like fifteen year old boy on his first date.

"Uh, Natasha, hey! I, uh, I got to the club but you, uh, looked like you were ha-having a pretty good time, so I, uh, didn't want to disturb you." Jesus fucking Christ.

Natasha studies him for a long moment, her green eyes burning into his own, before she seems to make up her mind and begins to drag him back towards the club.

"You saw me with that guy," she says very matter-of-factly, without turning around.

"God, he was a creep. Couldn't keep his hands off of me. It would've been nice if you'd come over to save me, rather than just stand there staring."

Clint rubs the back of his head sheepishly. Of course she'd seen him.

They're right outside the entrance when she turns to face him, her fingers still wrapped around his. Their eyes meet again, for a longer amount of time, and it feels as if Natasha can see right through him. Like she can read every single one of his thoughts.

She doesn't surprise him.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's wrong." She licks her lips, her eyes flicking down to his.

"You're being an asshole. It's my birthday, please don't ruin it. I meant it when I said I love you and I know you meant it too." She doesn't need to finish the rest of sentence.

Stop being so insecure.

Natasha kisses him then, her tongue sliding over his bottom lip, teeth leaving light impressions. And just as suddenly as Clint's doubts had appeared, they're gone and all he can focus on is Natasha.

What had he almost done?

They reenter the club and Clint follows her to the bar, looking around as she orders their drinks. It's a nice place, the kind he'd have gone to when he was her age, but now he feels out of place surrounded by people still in college and grad school. His feelings of uncertainty are beginning to surface again, but he tamps them down when Natasha squeezes his thigh.

As he twists to reach for his drink, he spots the young man from earlier making his way towards the bar, his hungry stare focused on Natasha.

Before he can make it over, Clint grasps Natasha's jaw and crushes their mouths together, giving her the most thorough kiss he can. Her hands come up to steady her weight against his biceps and he cracks open an eye to see the guy retreating, posture defeated.

When Clint pulls away, Natasha looks at him questioningly and he only shrugs.

"Just making a statement."

She grins at that and then downs the rest of her drink, pulling him to his feet and leading him to the dance floor, a mass of grinding, sweaty bodies, and Clint can't remember the last time he was in this situation.

Using Clint's belt loops, Natasha pulls his hips into hers and wedges a thigh between his own. Her smooth undulations send bolts of pleasure shooting down his spine and he wraps an arm around her back for leverage to grind back against her. He hasn't danced like this since he first met Chloe.

Like everything else she does, Natasha's dancing can be described as both incredibly graceful and astoundingly sensual. Her hips sway perfectly with the quick tempo of the music, gyrating in a way that sets Clint's teeth on edge and the way she's kissing his neck isn't making it any better.

He can feel her panting, breath hot and moist against his skin and he figures he's probably doing the same. The ripple of her back muscles beneath her dress is mesmerizing and Clint's so hard in his jeans, all he can think about is how much he loves fucking her; how badly he wants to fuck her now.

When he tries to angle his pelvis to get more friction, Clint feels Natasha's lips curve against his collar bone, scorching air as she laughs. He could probably come from doing just this, he thinks.

She lets he head fall back to bare her neck to him and a strong sense of possession steals over Clint, but he so badly wants to see her eyes so he shoves them back for later.

Lacing his fingers through her curls, he tilts her head until their eyes are boring into each other and Clint commits the sight to memory.

Natasha's pupils are blown, consuming the green so that all that's left is black. Desire. Her lips are parted, bright red and swollen, like she's just sucked him off and Clint has to bite back a groan, his teeth digging sharply into his lip. Her cheeks are flushed with exertion and arousal and it's spreading quickly down her neck. He thinks angels don't look so sinfully delicious.

He doesn't have to say anything as he grasps her wrist, tugging her away from the mass of bodies and towards the restrooms.

They stumble into the men's room, a mess of writhing, volatile lust, and find it blissfully empty. Clint pauses to lock the door behind them before he's pushing her over to the sinks and falling to her knees. It's a sight she's dreamed of for months now. Clint, with his nice clothes and his sad eyes, now bright and alive, on his knees for her and only her. It's not like he's never done what he's about to do to her before, but it's never been with him kneeling before her and her towering over him. She feels powerful.

He presses her back against the porcelain counter with one hand and uses the other to push her dress up around her hips.

Natasha's not wearing underwear and his mouth goes dry, and he presses his face against her stomach, his moan stifled by her velvety skin. Her laugh reverberates through her abdomen and her voice is teasing.

"I told you I love you."

Clint responds by trailing kisses down to her hip bones, wet and hot, leaves a bite mark over each. He wants to show her off to the world.

He leans his head in to give one long lick up her slit and then pulls away, Natasha's desperate moans making him twitch in his pants.

The hand he's using to keep her anchored to the counter slides down to her thigh and he pushes against it, opening her up to him so he can leave a love bite on her inner thigh.

Mine, he thinks.

Natasha's hands tangle in his hair impatiently as he does the same to her other side, and when he's satisfied with his work, he uses arm strength she hadn't realized he has to lift her onto the counter and rewards her for waiting. The power Clint possesses makes her wetter.

Clint is as thorough with his mouth as he is with his hands and Natasha has no complaints as she rides his face, her clit grinding deliciously against his nose.

Using the flat of his tongue, he licks up her slit again and swirls it around her sensitive nub, before plunging it into her dripping pussy, groaning at the taste of Natasha, the smell of Natasha, he's drowning in the best way possible.

Her fingers grip his hair hard enough to cause a burning in his scalp, but it's not unpleasant and it's keeping Clint from coming in his underwear.

Clint knows she's close when her thrusts become more frantic and her sobs more insistent. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he scrapes his teeth gently across it, and Natasha's fingers clench, her nails biting into his skin. When he sooths the nerves with his tongue and then sucks hard, Natasha is sent teetering over the edge, her thighs suffocation Clint and her head tossing back. He hears her head as it thuds against the mirror behind her and he imagines her lips parted, jaw unhinged in unadulterated pleasure.

He thinks he'll wait until they get back to her place to fuck her, a place where he can have her all to himself, rather than some restroom in a club with someone banging on the door, the shitty techno music drifting through the thick door. A place where he can really take his time. Show her how much he loves her by worshipping every inch of her body.

"Move in with me." It slips from his lips before he can catch himself and he really hadn't meant to ask with his face still firmly grasped between her thighs.

"What?" He knows she understood him though, by the hesitation in her voice.

Clint pulls himself up then, his hands gliding up her thighs and to her waist. He slides her forward until her legs rest on either side of his hips and looks her in the eye.

"I found a new place, one that I really like, and I want you to come look at it with me and tell me you like it. If you don't, we'll find another place, one that we both like, and we'll search until we've looked at every apartment in New York."

Natasha stares at him, eyes wide and pearly whites nibbling at her lower lip.

"I want to take care of you. I want to spend every moment with you. I want to make love to you every day in our bed. Or over the back of our couch."

She laughs and the sound makes Clint's heart swell.

"I know you're still in school and that you'll probably go to grad school after because you're the most brilliant, talented, promising girl I've ever met, but I'll wait years for you. I don't care how long it takes, but I want to live with you."

It's funny, she thinks, that her sad, tired business man, the one that she'd pursued, the one that had wormed his way into her heart, is asking her to move in with him.

Mine, she thinks, as her mouth says yes.

"Happy birthday, Natasha," he murmurs against her lips.

Their apartment is at the top of a very tall building with very tall windows. The sun devours their bed every morning and the rays that shine upon them seem to fuel the flames that are Natasha's curls, spread around her head in a display of chaotic beauty,

Angel, he thinks. Definitely an angel.


A/N: I want to thank you all so much for reading this and for those of you that stuck with it until now-wow, you're all really incredible. I'd also like to apologize profusely for the great amount of time it took for me to write this and I think I've apologized in every single chapter, but yeah. I'm so sorry.

If this isn't what you expected to happen in the end, I also apologize for that, I know the feeling.

Thank you to all of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed! Also, you should all thank Jo (strangervision) for calling me out on Tumblr and yelling at me to update this fic, and also MalMal86 for sending me a message and giving me some motivation!