Lesson Number Zero // ironwidow AU

I.

 „You are really crazy, what the hell are you doing?"

„I don't know."

„Natasha, he is crazy about you. Did you see how he looks at you all the time, how he always undresses you with his gaze? God, I would do anything for that. Everything, absolutely everything." Natasha rolled her eyes. Her best friend, Dolly, tried to convey her about the perfection of an unnamed classmate. His name was Clint. Everything she said was absolute, unshakable truth, just as Natasha's principles and boundaries were absolutely rigid.

„I don't care. He's too... young." She heard how Dolly gasped and held her breath for a moment. Natasha smirked. Don't choke yourself, flashed through her head as she watched her classmate's terrified expression with amusement.

„Young?" Dolly repeated incredulously, absolutely shocked by Natasha's verdict. The redhead shrugged.

„Yeah," she said simply. Dolly run her fingers through her long brown hair and sighed. Natasha has always been different from her classmates. They always eternally raved about their guy friends and crushes, about football players and the youthful members of all sorts of music bands. But Natasha? To her, they seemed more like toddlers who had just left the cradle than a potential candidates for a boyfriend.

She longed for something... bigger. Natasha always felt immense attraction to older men or authority. She dreamed about them, dreamed about their big hands and strong, muscular arms. She wondered what her girl friends see on their peers and Natasha didn't understand why they so stubbornly fight for guys who are mentally three years younger than them, thus completely useless. Such an older man, it was something else. Seasoned by experience, tested by life and last but not least - sexy as hell.

„They say that a new professor comes today."

„Professor?"

„Yeah, literature. I heard some dumb cheap bitches from third class saying that he's insanely hot." Natasha's heart sank.

„Damn, when is it?"

„Now," Dolly said, grinning. Natasha jumped up from her chair and ran down the hallway. She resembled the heroine of some action movie, who with her fast and absolutely necessary intervention tries to save her honor and life, but also to reverse the seemingly irreversible and bitter fate of the whole mankind. I would rather let them all die, burn to ashes, she thought. She wanted to close her eyes and surrender to that childish dream, where she was featured as the master of everything.  But it couldn't have been disturbed by strong hands that saved her from falling. Startled, she screamed and braced against the cluster of power that gripped her so tightly that her heart leapt with excitement and fiercely drummed in her throat, but she was in a daze. Breathing fast and shallow, she slowly lifted her gaze. Two thick forearms covered with fine dark hairs, from elbow covered with perfectly fitting white shirt, flowing into the muscular shoulders. Abruptly, she held her breath and looked up.

"You shouldn't be here, miss." Her knees almost melted at the sound of that deep, husky voice. She stood in the face of the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Deep brown eyes held her trapped, unable to look away. A perfectly symmetrical face, a straight nose, sharp jaw lined with narrow strip of dark beard, which smoothly passed in perfectly trimmed goatee and thin mustache above his angelically cut upper lip. She swallowed. Hot damn. Who's this guy?

"I...," her voice noosed under his knowing gaze. "I just came here to pick up my... book. Yeah, my literature textbook," Natasha nodded and snatched from his grip. "Thank you for not allowing me to fall down," she added, nervously munching her shirt. 

"I'm your teacher, you know? You shouldn't talk to me like that, miss," he frowned, but then his gaze softened again. "But you don't knew it, so... let's forget it."

"I'm sorry, professor. I rushed just to make sure I won't come late to your lesson."

He nodded. "Okay, I'll give you a head start now so you won't be late." 

Natasha smiled, slipped around him to her cabinet and took that damn textbook. This is crazy, she thought, watching her fingers tremble slightly. She grabbed her textbook as fast as she could, nodding teacher's "goodbye" and quickly went up the stairs. Her knees were like jelly, her heart pounding as she realized how unusually short her skirt is. Damn it, I want him. How old is he? 40? Tony Stark wondered in the entirely same way. Biting his lip, he watched her as she run up the stairs, her skirt rippling around her long slender legs and encircling her rounded ass in very pleasant way. Rule number one: hot students are forbidden for you, Stark. Rule number two: let's break those damn rules.