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arrow-guy · 5 years ago

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Talk to Me

Original request from @scrawlingwithstyle: Here's a request I've been sitting on for a bit. ClintxReader; Clint is deaf and most people rely on his lipreading skills, but Reader knows some ASL from when her family thought her autistic younger sibling would never speak (they became vocal close to seven years old). They have secret conversations across the room, thinking no one else on the team understands. . . . They're wrong. Adjust however you like!

A/N: Okay, it’s taken probably close to a year to actually get around to this, but i kind of breezed through writing it? And it was a whole bunch of fun to finally put down in a document. I didn’t change much about your request, but I definitely added to it, and made it a little romantic? Idk if it’ll come off as romance, it’s kind of goofy (it’s Clint, there needs to be a goof somewhere.) I really hope you like it, though!!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: None

“Are you sure about this, Bruce?” I ask. “Ross let me go as soon as you went AWOL. I haven’t worked with people like this in years.”

“Of course I’m sure! You were the best back in the day.”

“Back in the day,” I laugh. “You make it sound like we’re ancient.”

“We’re not as young as we used to be,” he says. “But that’s the point. You’ll bring some much needed experience to the table.”

“But I’m not a spy and I definitely don’t have any powers.”

“Trust me, (Y/N), superpowers are not all they’re cracked up to be, and both spies have long since ceased their spying activities.” I cock one eyebrow and he laughs. “For the most part.”

“Saying a spy stopped being a spy is like saying you misplaced the hulk.”

“Ah, very true.”

“I’ll do it, though.”

“You will?”

“Well I can’t very well leave you to fend for yourself, now can I? As it stands, I’m already a shitty friend, working together can’t hurt things.”

Bruce grins and grips my shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t fight back my smile. “Do I need to pack a bag, or will I be allowed to go home at the end of the day?”

“Not sure yet. Might as well bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush just in case.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I can’t believe you actually pulled it off, Banner,” Stark says. “You wrangled a counselor for the team?”

“What,” I say. “Like it was supposed to be hard?”

Bruce laughs and reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve known (Y/N) for just about as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’ll be a good fit.”

“As long as you can remember, huh?” I look past Captain Rogers and find a sandy haired man. He grins when I meet his eyes. “Just how long?”

I bob my head from side to side. “Somewhere between twenty years and most of our lives.”

He whistles. “Pretty long time, then.”

“Mhm.”

Bruce clears his throat. “I’m sure (Y/N) wants to see where she’ll be working, so I’ll just show her to her office.”

Everyone in the boardroom waves and Bruce leads me out of the room. As soon as we’re out in the hall I sigh and bow my head, finally able to let my shoulders relax.

“That was a lot.”

Bruce chuckles. “Trust me, it’ll either get worse or stay exactly the same as time goes on, depending on who you’re talking to.”

“The blond guy who spoke up, that’s Hawkeye, right?”

“Clint Barton, yeah.”

“Will I be seeing much of him?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about the guy. He seems pretty happy-go-lucky and stable most of the time, though.”

“Huh.” I shrug and hitch my bag a little higher on my shoulder. “You never know with some people.”

“True. I’m sure you’ll deal with him at least once more after this. He’s the curious type.”

“I guess I’ll have to look forward to that, then.”

Bruce hummed in agreement and leads me to the elevator bank and takes me down to what will eventually be my office. He gives me a basic rundown of the facilities and shows me which restroom is closest to my office. I ask for a baseline reading on everyone on the team and Bruce rattles off what he’s noticed about the main five.

“Steve will most likely drop by to make small talk, but it may take some time for him to open up in any way that counts. Tony will joke about therapy, but once he warms up to you it’ll be impossible to get him to leave.”

“Oof, that bad?”

“He’s long-winded.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to enforce appointments with him when he starts to take interest.”

“Probably wise.”

“And Natasha?”

“I doubt you’ll see much of her. She has her ways of working through her issues on her own.”

“Do they involve murder?”

“Don’t know, and I don’t care to.”

“Got it. None of our business. I’ll let her come to me if she needs anything.” I plop down behind my new desk. “What about Thor?”

“Who knows. He shows up when he wants and tends to be a pretty jovial guy.”

“Ah. Is there anyone else outside of the tower I can expect?”

“Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey will be around from time to time. If Steve has his way, Bucky will move in at some point, and Wanda is currently in the process of moving into the tower, so you may see her more after that. I’m not sure how often she’ll drop by. She’s fairly private due to her powers.”

“Energy manipulation, right?”

He nods. “That, and other mind tricks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But that just leaves Clint, and we’ve already gone over what you can expect from him.”

“It doesn’t just leave Clint, Bruce.” I fold my hands on the desktop. “I expect to see you in here at least once a week. Ideally twice.”

Bruce scowls. “(Y/N), you know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, well, I listen to your opinions on that stuff when I’m just your friend. Now I’m your therapist, and you’re going to listen to me because I know what works for you. So I expect you to get your pasty ass in here when you’re scheduled.”

“You’re making appointments for me now?”

“Until I’m sure you’ll come to me on your own, yes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Send me the schedule. I’ll see you at my appointed time.”

“Wonderful.” I relax my shoulders, letting my professional mask slip. “Thanks for this, Bruce. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” He cracks a smile. “You’re the only person I trust to get to the root of our issues.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Believe me, (Y/N), if anyone’s gonna let me down, it’ll be the team.” I laugh and he heads for the door. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with your first day.”

“Thanks, Bruce. I’ll see you later!”

“So, (Y/N),” Tony says, spreading out on the couch across from my chair. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah, what makes you tick? What motivates you to try and heal the fragile minds of the Avengers?”

“I’d say a decent paycheck is a pretty good motivator, Mr. Stark.”

He seems disappointed with my answer. “Is that it?”

“Well, that, and I want to make sure Bruce is doing alright. He’s struggled with therapy in the past, and I want to make sure he’s getting the kind of help that he needs.”

“I see.” He presses his lips together and folds his arms. “You’re not even curious about the rest of the team?”

“Of course I’m curious, but nothing discussed in this tower will be shared with anyone outside. I take my patients privacy very seriously.”

“You sure you don’t just fear for your life?”

“Living in New York, I fear for my life constantly. That doesn’t mean that I’m worried about getting merced if I get a little loose lipped outside of work.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “That being said, I won’t be sharing your confidential information with anyone you haven’t specifically given authorized access to your records.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I’m a professional, right?”

He smiles. “I’m really starting to like you, (Y/N).”

“Then I guess I have a lot more of this to look forward to, then, don’t I?”

I laughs and hauls himself up from the couch. “We’ll see.”

I make a note of his response in my open document. “Sounds like a tentative yes to me, Mr. Stark, and I’ll be here so long as you deem my services necessary.”

He nods and exits my office. He leaves the door open.

“How are you liking it here so far, (Y/N)?”

“It’s been quiet, Captain Rogers. It’s a bit like pulling teeth trying to get anyone to make use of their resources.”

“I guess it would be. We’re a relatively private bunch.” He pauses a moment. “And, please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve. Is there anything that I can do for you today?” I ask. “It’s entirely alright if you just want to make small talk.”

“Oh, well, uh…” He awkwardly clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “I guess I just wanted to get a lay of the land.”

“I understand.” I glance around my office. “I should probably bring in some art and plants. Make it a little less sterile in here.”

Steve laughs. “That might help.”

I smile. “Maybe an area rug?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you think would be best.”

“I appreciate the creative freedom.” I close my laptop, set it to the side, and settle back in my chair. “Is there something on your mind, Steve?”

“No,” he says quickly. He immediately looks conflicted. “I… well, kind of.”

“Feel free to speak. Nothing you say will leave this office.”

“You hardly know me.”

I shrug. “I know how stressful this environment can be. And, while your team is very good at what they do, they’re also the ones who are causing your stress.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” I watch him chew the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’m just concerned that things might not get better, even when Bucky’s moved in.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I’m worried that it might not be a good fit for him, or that the team won’t accept him, or that he might not even want to be around me.”

“Those are all valid concerns. Have you mentioned any of this to him?”

“God no. I don’t want to stress him out more than I already have with all of this moving business.”

“I might suggest bringing it up. He might be having similar worries himself, and, as helpful as it is to work towards what’s troubling you with me, I won’t be able to settle your nerves.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“If nothing else, it might open up a new line of communication between the two of you, which couldn’t hurt.”

Steve stays for another hour, just talking. When he leaves, he asks if I want the door open or closed. I don’t give him a definite answer and he leaves it open, just a crack. I laugh and start on his profile.

Someone knocks on my door and I glance up from my paperwork to see Clint standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Barton,” I say. “I was wondering when I might see you.”

He shrugs. “Here I am.”

“After two weeks, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“If I was?”

“Then it’s none of my business.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “I like that answer.”

I rise from my desk and gesture to the couch. He raises his eyebrows, but takes a seat anyway. I sit across from him and watch as he tries to decide just how he should sit. In the end, he leans heavily on his knees. Nothing about him is relaxed.

“I’m starting to think Bruce was wrong about you.”

“What’d the green bean tell you about me?”

“Nothing concrete,” I answer. “He just mentioned that you seem to have a positive outlook on things most of the time.”

He snorts. “Great.”

“Mmm, I see. It’s a facade, then?”

He frowns and presses a finger to his right ear. “Could you say that again?”

“I said, it’s a facade, then?”

“Sometimes.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

He barks out a laugh. “Yeah, interesting.”

I watch him look around the room, examining the art on the walls and the stacks of paper on my desk. When he turns his head to the left, I notice his purple earpiece and something suddenly clicks. He tilts his head to the side when he sees me staring.

“What?”

“Would it be easier if we signed?” I ask, signing along as I speak.

He looks surprised. “You sign?”

I laugh. “Yes. My little brother is on the Autism spectrum. When he was a kid, he was almost entirely nonverbal. Mom taught him sign, and the rest of the family learned along with him.”

“That must’ve been really nice for him.”

“It was nice to be able to communicate with him when he couldn’t vocalize what he wanted to say. He eventually started speaking when he was about seven, though.”

“And you still held onto the signing skills?”

“Of course! It’s not like he just, bam, started talking. It was a long process, and he still has nonverbal days sometimes.” Clint starts to actually smile and it warms my heart. “It’s come in handy in my particular line of work too. Deaf and hard of hearing folks need counsellors and therapists too.”

“Which brings the topic of conversation back to me.” He shakes his head and leans back against the couch and signs, “You’re a tricky one, (Y/N).”

“I’m not tricky!”

“Then what?”

“I’m accommodating.” I speak again, but continue to sign along. “You don’t have to tell me everything, or anything, really. But I’m here to help, if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Clint. Any time.”

“Seems like you and Clint are getting close,” Bruce says.

“I don’t know what you mean, man.”

“He’s in here all the time, (Y/N). There’s no way Barton needs therapy five times a week.”

“It’s not always about therapy, Bruce. I strive to make my office a safe space where everyone knows that they can speak freely. He knows that he can come here and chill out without worrying about the rest of the team.”

“Barton doesn’t really worry about anything, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Bruce stares at me, eyes narrowed, and snaps his fingers. "You like him."

I roll my eyes. "I do not like him, Bruce. And you're not even here to talk about Clint, you're here to work on yourself and managing your stress levels."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure there's something we could talk about aside from me."

I sigh and hold my head in my hands. "I've been here for two months. I haven't been around long enough to form anything more than tentative relationships with the rest of the team. I'm more concerned about whether or not they can open up to me than I am with my love life."

“Right,” Bruce clears his throat.

“Thank you.” He looks thoroughly ashamed and I have to laugh. “I appreciate the interest, but it’s just not something that you need to worry about.”

“No, I understand.” He smiles and shrugs. “I guess I just miss having that easy rapport with you.”

“I mean, we still have that, Bruce. It’s just not something that I want to talk about in the workplace. It’s one thing to shoot the shit over lunch on a Saturday, it’s another to discuss my patients with another patient, all of whom are my coworkers.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

I smile. “It’s fine. Did you want to pick up where we left off on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“(Y/N)?”

I’m startled by the woman in the doorway. “Ms. Romanoff?”

She shakes her head and steps into my office. “As long as you’re not a government official, it’s just Natasha.”

“Ah, right.” I sit a little straighter in my chair. “What can I do for you, Natasha?”

“Clint’s said you’ve helped him a lot.”

“I don’t know about that. We just talk. He does all the helping.”

“I figured you’d say that.” She moves quickly across the room and takes a seat on the couch. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

“Oh.” I scramble up from my desk to sit across from her. “What about?”

“I need help working through a recent case.”

“Are you sure I’m qualified for that?”

“Well, you said Clint does all the helping. Maybe what I need is a sounding board.”

“Fair enough. Where are you caught up?”

Natasha rattles off the details of a recent mission. I do my best to follow her, but she loses me when she starts explaining the intricacies of a piece of Hydra technology they discovered. Eventually, she perks up, almost looking like she wants to jump up from her seat and run from the room.

“I think I’ve got it.”

“That’s great!”

She calmly gets to her feet and walks to the door. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

I shake my head. “It was my pleasure.”

“Even so, you helped me.” She flashes me an unexpected smile. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s not a problem, Natasha. I hope that we can speak again at some point.”

She nods and heads for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

In the hall I hear, “Oh, hey, Nat.” and Clint pokes his head in soon after.

I smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leans in the doorway and folds his arms. “What’d Nat dump on you?”

“Doctor patient confidentiality, Barton,” I say. “I can’t tell you.”

His arms fall to his side and he dramatically slumps into the room. “I thought you trusted me!”

I laugh. “I do trust you, Clint. But it’s not my information to give.” He drapes himself across the couch and grins at the sight of me fighting back my smile. “If it were, Bruce would have full access to what we talk about in our sessions.”

“That’s private information, (Y/N)!” He laughs. “I see your point.”

“Good.”

“Did you want to grab lunch later? That weird little cafe down the street started serving some kind of coffee burger.”

“Ugh, and you want to eat that?”

“(Y/N), it’s a coffee burger.”

“With all the heinous shit you put in your body, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should meet my dog.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s been four months, Clint. If I haven’t run for the hills yet, I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna happen for a while yet.”

Something twinkles in his eyes. “That’s good to hear. I was worried I might scare you off.”

“If anyone were to scare me off, it’d be Tony.” I shake my head. “That man is a handful.”

“What happened to patient confidentiality?”

“Since when is Tony being a handful a secret?” He laughs and I relax in my seat. “But, yeah, I’ll get lunch with you.”

“Really?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over from physically eating coffee.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like they solidified the coffee and stuck it on a bun!”

“How do you know they didn’t? Maybe they turned the coffee into jello, passed it through a meat grinder, and threw it on a griddle.”

His face scrunches up in disgust. “Ugh, that’d just be burnt coffee.”

“I’ve watched you drink an entire pot of burnt coffee.”

“Desperate times, (Y/N). They call for desperate measures.”

I sigh and shake my head. ”I guess it’s fine, so long as you’re not addicted to caffeine pills.”

“Those don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s terrifying.”

He laughs, hauls himself up from the couch, and offers me a hand. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Head out for lunch.”

“Now? I thought you said later.”

“It’s been like five minutes. It’s later now.”

I laugh. “I can’t just go now. I have an appointment with Steve in twenty minutes. We can leave after that.”

He pouts. “Fine.”

“Don’t give me that look, Clint!”

He sighs and trudges towards the door. “I guess I’ll just have to make a reservation for one thirty.”

“That’d be great.”

He flashes a brilliant smile before disappearing out into the hall. I shake my head and move back to my desk.

“That man is gonna get me in trouble.”

“I thought you said you weren’t involved with Clint?”

“I’m not, Bruce.”

“Then what’s this?” He places his phone on my keyboard.

I pick up the phone and find an article titled “Hawkeye’s New Flame, or Just a Fling?” pulled up. A picture of Clint and I at lunch the other day sits just below a paragraph speculating who I could be. I snort and hand him his phone.

“Clint and I went to lunch. That’s all.” I sit back and fold my arms. “What’s the problem, Bruce?”

“I don’t want you getting dragged into some kind of media storm because you work with us.”

“It’s one article!”

“There’s at least four more like it that I’ve seen.”

“I’m not worried about it, Bruce. Clint just went out for lunch and some pap caught us talking. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it, but I can’t stop people from talking.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“No one should have to deal with anyone plastering their personal life all over the internet, but you know what? I’d rather get caught out in public with Clint than Tony.” I laugh. “Can you imagine the shitstorm that’d kick up if that happened?”

Bruce tries not to laugh. “I guess you’re right.”

“It was bound to get out that the Avengers brought in a counsellor at some point. It’s better that it’s like this instead of some media outlet picking up a rumor and deciding that you’re all unstable.”

“Well…”

“I’m not saying you’re the most sane bunch, but that’s no one’s business but yours. Regardless, don’t worry about this. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He pockets his phone. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Of course I would, Bruce. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

I sit on the floor of the gym and lift the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

Clint plops down on the floor beside me and tips his head to the side.

“Definitely didn’t expect to find you in here,” he says.

“What, I can’t work out?” I groan and lay back. “Ugh.”

“You okay?”

“No. I knew I should’ve just stuck to the treadmill.”

“What’d you do to yourself?”

“Weights.”

He laughs. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. Is wanting to be able to lift a very large dog a good reason?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad reason.” He lays beside me and props himself up on his elbow. “I could help you, if you want.”

“I don’t know how I feel about being all sweaty gross around you.”

He pokes my stomach and I laugh and shift away. “I don’t know, (Y/N), sweaty’s the new sexy.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” I laugh and scrunch my nose. “Also kind of gross.”

“Sweet and kind of gross, I think you’ve pretty much summed me up perfectly.” I laugh so hard that I snort and he grins. “So, do you want help working out?”

I press my fist to my mouth to quiet my giggling. “If you’re willing to, I really would appreciate it.”

“Then it’s a done deal.” I thank him and his smile softens. “Sorry about those articles last week, by the way.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I should’ve warned you, at least. I’m used to it, but you didn’t sign up for pap shots and gossip columns when you took this job.”

I scowl. “Honestly, Clint. If you’re not gonna read my lips, read my hands. It’s totally fine. I don’t care. I had a nice time at lunch. A few dumb articles won’t change that.”

“You mean that?”

“Well, yeah. I like spending time with you outside of all of this,” I say, gesturing to the tower in general. “With, y’know, no expectations of maintaining all of the professional bullshit.”

“Pretty sure you’re the most professional one here.”

“Thanks, I’m glad that comes across in the day to day, but do you understand what I’m saying? Like I genuinely do not care about what a shitty news outlet says. At the end of the day, the only opinions that matter are ours.” I sigh and settle on the floor. “Sorry.”

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones who need therapy.”

I hum. “Maybe I do.”

“No shame in it.”

I smile at him. “I know.” I sit up and get to my feet. “It’s getting late, I should head out.”

“You’re in tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around till noon. I’ve got a wedding later in the day.”

“Not yours, right?”

I laugh. “No, definitely not mine.”

“Cool,” He smiles up at me. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Since when do we have staff meetings?” Clint asks.

“Since we brought on a counselor,” Tony says.

I frown. “I’ve been here six months and I’ve never been to any kind of meeting.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you brought that up and just keep moving with the meeting.”

I snort and shoot Clint a look. He laughs and signs for me to stop. I wave him off and turn my attention back to the head of the table.

Tony rambles on for about half an hour before Steve cuts in and the two of them start going back and forth. They bicker for twenty minutes before Thor swans in, greeting everyone with his bright, booming voice. I was stuck in my office the last time he was on Earth, so our paths never had a chance to cross. Steve takes a moment to introduce the two of us and Thor vigorously shakes my hand, unintentionally jostling me around the whole time. He takes his seat on the other side of Bruce and the conversation picks up again.

I catch Clint’s eye twitching in my peripheral when Thor speaks a little too loudly. I gesture to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows when he meets my eyes.

“You good?” I sign.

He nods. “Can’t pay attention to save my life in these meetings.”

“I’ve never known anyone to compliment your attention span.”

He mouths, “Oh, ha ha,” and I laugh.

“You’re mean, (Y/N).”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“Never said I didn’t.” He grins. “The way things are going, I’d say you’re probably just my type.”

I shake my head and hide my smile behind my hand. “Stop.”

“Aw, you're cute when you're embarrassed." I flip him off and he laughs. “That's a compliment!"

I snort. “Pay attention, Clint.”

We manage to make it through another hour and, by that time, someone has turned off the lights and started giving a presentation. I fold my arms on the table and rest my chin on top and beg myself to stay awake through this meeting. I’m sure it’ll only be a little while longer.

Clint’s hand creeps into my line of sight and he taps the table to get my attention. I shoot him a quizzical look and he lifts his eyebrows.

“You still with us?” he signs.

“No.”

“It’s going longer than I thought it would.”

“I’m honestly about to fall asleep.”

“Aw, (Y/N), no.”

“This is how I go out. Avenge me, Clint.”

“No!”

“It’s your job. You have to.”

“But who will help me through the trauma?”

I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter. “I’d be dead, that’s none of my concern.”

He shakes his head. “And you call yourself my friend.”

Natasha clears her throat, startling me away from the conversation. I try to pay attention to the presentation, but I just can't wrap my head around what they're talking about and Clint easily distracts me again.

"Quick question."

Surprised, I sign, "Shoot."

"Would you want to go out with me?"

My brain stops working for a second. "Wait, what?"

"I said, will you go out with me?"

My heart hammers in my chest. "Like as friends, or on a date?"

He sighs. "We've been hanging out as friends for months now. I'm asking you on a date, stupid."

My face heats and I sit back in my seat. “Oh.”

He laughs. “Did I break you?”

“A little.” I frown.

“Just say yes!”

Startled, I glance up the table, only to find Natasha glaring at Clint and I. Everyone is looking at us and I suddenly want to disappear.

“What’s the problem?” Steve asks.

“I’m sick of watching the two of them flirt with each other,” Natasha says. “You’ve been mooning over each other for months. Just say yes and be done with it.”

“Nat, they haven’t said a single thing since the beginning of the meeting.”

“They’ve been signing at each other the entire meeting.” She looks directly at me and signs, “I see everything.”

“Sorry.”

“Just say yes.” She looks very pointedly between Clint and I. “You’d be good together.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” Bruce says.

“That was months ago, Bruce. Things change.”

“Don’t be hard on her,” Natasha says. “Clint’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m just gonna, um…” I gesture to the door. “I’m just gonna go.”

I see Tony and Steve nod and I shove my chair back from the table and make my escape. The door shuts behind me, and I’m free. I sigh, relieved to be free of the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, only for the embarrassment of having my crush exposed to my coworkers to settle deep in my stomach.

I press my fingertips to my temples and walk down the hallway. “I knew he was gonna get me in trouble.”

I make the decision to just go back to my office. Maybe I can at least get some work done or, at the very least calm down. I turn as the elevator doors close and catch a glimpse of the conference door opening at the end of the hall. I shift slightly so that it’s not in my line of sight.

The elevator ride feels like it’s too long and I immediately flop down on my couch as soon as I’m in my office. I can't get comfortable and shift around until I'm upside down with my legs over the back of the conch, staring at the ceiling. I press the heels of my hands over my eyes and groan out of frustration.

“I left without even answering him,” I mutter.

The door suddenly opens and I freeze, pulling my hands away from my face, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

"(Y/N)?"

"Clint?" I try to sit up and smack my head on the edge of the coffee table. "Shit."

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I rub my forehead and sit up a little more carefully. "I'll live."

He takes a seat on the coffee table and watches intently as I sit upright on the couch and face him. He reaches out and gently touches my forehead, only to jerk his hand back when I wince.

"Sorry."

"Don't, it's fine."

"Okay." He sighs softly and shuffles awkwardly on the table. He stills when I touch his knee and takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry about the meeting. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

"Honestly, Clint, you don't need to apologize," I murmur. "I got flustered and then embarrassed when everyone else got involved."

"I know. I probably like pushing your buttons a little too much."

"That's not it."

"But I do push your buttons."

"Yeah, but only 'cause I let you." He smiles and I squeeze his hand. "But I'm a deeply private person. To have Natasha butt in like that, no matter the good she meant by it, really set me on edge."

"I had no idea."

"I don't feel like I have to keep everything close to my chest when I’m with you. You tease me, but it’s never from a place of malice and you know me well enough that you never take it too far.”

“I mean, you give as good as you get.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he runs his thumb over my knuckles. “But still. I should’ve just asked in private, but you know me.”

“Yeah. You’re sweet, but kind of stupid sometimes. More than a little impulsive. And way too fond of coffee.”

“Aw, I thought that was endearing!” He smiles when I laugh. “The invitation still stands, but you don’t have to say yes.”

“What’re you talking about?” He meets my eyes and I shake my head. “I’m not about to turn you down. You haven’t introduced me to your dog yet.”

“Oh, I get it, you only want me for Lucky.”

“Mhm.”

He shakes his head and kneels on the floor in front of me. “Shoulda known.”

“I know, I’m pure evil.” He grins and takes my face in his hands. “I should be fired, right?”

“Without a doubt.”

I hum softly and lean forward to bump my nose against his. After a moment’s hesitation, Clint closes the distance between us and gently kisses me. I place one hand on his forearm and tilt my head to the side to kiss him back. He smiles against my lips and pulls away, his eyes flitting over my face.

“So… about that dog.”

I have no idea what would happen to them after that, but I’d like to think they’re having a great time, petting dogs and continuing to mess with each other, all whilst falling in love.

I’d love to know what you guys thought of this little one shot. Did you love it, did you hate it? Did you breathe out through your nose a little bc you kind of laughed but also didn’t? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

If you’d like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @feelmyroarrrr, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @princess-unicorn124, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @avengerscompound

#clint bartonxreader #readerxclint barton #clint barton x reader #reader x clint barton #clintbartonxreader #readerxclintbarton #clint barton #hawkeye #reader insert marvel fic #my perfect birdie boy

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haileygarciasunshine · 5 years ago

Text

Match Makers

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Word Count: 355

Warning: None.

Summary: The reader’s friends want to set her up with a renown sharpshooter.

"Are you going to come visit me at the tower?” Natasha asked as she continued bounding up the stairs beside you.

“Whenever you want me to, I’ll be there.” You responded with a grin.

“Besides, there’s someone I want you to meet.” She teased, gently bumping your shoulder with hers.

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door to your apartment.

Natasha and Wanda were staying over at your apartment for a girls night, both of them stating they needed to get away from all the male energy in the tower.

“How is practicing going?” Wanda questioned as her eyes were filled with hope.

“It’s going.” You giggled causing the other two girls to giggle too.

Since a young age you had electrokinesis since you were born. Your father had it too but your mother always made him suppress it while you were growing up. Fury had reached out to you a few months ago, talking you into joining the Avengers. Once you agreed, you had become fast friends with everyone on the team, especially Natasha and Wanda.

Walking into the tower, Wanda linked her arm through yours. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s show you to your room.”

Giggling you and the two girls, walked through the hallways, filling it with your giggles and jokes.

“This is you.” Natasha said excitedly. “Come on Wanda. Let’s give her some time alone to unpack and adjust.”

Wanda sent a pout towards Natasha’s direction.

Entering your room, you began unpacking your bags before falling on your bed staring at the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh.

After dinner, Natasha insisted she had someone for you to meet. Nervousness raced through your veins.

“Come on, Y/N.” She whined. “He’s nice and sweet. He’s just your type!”

“I have a type?” You questioned dumbfoundly.

She rolled her eyes in response. Dragging you to the living room, she was practically jumping up and down.

Natasha cleared her throat gaining the attention of the attractive man who resided on the couch. Getting up he held out his hand to shake.

“Y/N.” You greeted placing your hand in his.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Clint.”

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arrow-guy · 8 years ago

Text

Secret Santa

Summary: Accidents happen, and Christmas is just an excuse to spoil those you care about, right?

A/N: Alrighty, this is a little too late for Hawkday, but it’s close enough. This is kind of goofy and sweet and I really hope you guys like it!!

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 3114

Warnings: None

“This is absolutely ridiculous,”

“You seriously think I would joke about liking Clint?”

“Yes! That’s why I’m laughing!”

“Tony, please, this is serious.”

Tony sobers and leans forward in his seat. “So you really like that disaster?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I really like that disaster. Nat says he likes me too, but he’s too scared to make a move.”

“Oh, I would be too. You’re absolutely terrifying.” I reach over the cafe table and punch Tony in the arm and he winces. “He’s probably just worried that you don’t feel the same. The man acts like he’s got his life together, but he drinks coffee straight from the pot. He probably doesn’t want to mess up his chance with someone as great as you.”

“Thanks, Tony.” I flag down a roaming waiter. “I’m going to get Clint a coffee and then we have to go. We’ve got an important mission that we have to leave for as soon as we get back.”

Tony nods and, after I’ve placed the order, says to the waiter, “Just put it on my tab. We’ll be back again within a week.”

“Is everyone alright?” Steve asks as soon as all of us are back on the quinjet. His question is followed by a chorus of yes's and groans. Steve nods wearily as he sinks into the pilot’s chair and fires up the jet.

Clint plops down next to me and sighs loudly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“You alright there, Clint?”

He nods a couple of times before letting his head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller though.”

I laugh softly and shake my head. “It certainly was one hell of a challenge. Gonna feel it for the next week or so.”

Clint barks out a laugh. “Well that’s one way to feel about it.”

We fall into an easy silence

“Thanks for the coffee earlier.”

“Don’t mention it. I know how tired you are when you don’t get your caffeine.”

“But you got it from my favorite cafe.” His lips curl up into an easy smile. “I just appreciate the trouble you went through is all.”

“It’s not a problem, Clint,” I smile and pat him on the arm. “I know you’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah...” he trails off, zoning out with a concerned look in his eye.

“You okay there, Clint?”

He shakes his head. “I-yeah,” he says, patting down his pockets. “Shit.”

“What?”

He sighs in defeat. “I lost my knife.”

“But your ka bar is still on your hip.”

“Not that knife,” he explains. “The switchblade my mentor gave me when I was a kid.”

“I thought your mentor was a criminal.”

“Well yeah, but it still has sentimental value.” He scowls, still rifling through his pockets before giving up and sighing loudly. “Could have given it to my older brother, but he gave it to me. He chose me for some reason, and he’s the reason I’m even on this team right now.”

“Really?”

“Well yeah, why else would S.H.I.E.L.D. have come looking for me?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Not many other master marksmen trained by carnies out there. We're good at sneaking around y’know?”

“I understand,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve got a scar on my knuckles that I got when I was in the fifth grade. I got it when I punched Riley Jones in the teeth after lifting the skirt of a girl two years younger than us.” Clint presses his lips together, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “Yeah, laugh all you want, but that’s the reason I wanted to do anything like this in the first place. I know what it’s like to have an irreplaceable reminder like that.” He raises his eyebrows at me and I scowl back. “Quit looking at me like that, you know what I’m trying to say.”

He smiles. “I do, and I appreciate the sentiment, (Y/N), it’s just fun to see you flustered like that sometimes.”

“You’re an ass, Barton.”

He laughs loudly. “Yeah, but you like my ass.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious, Tony.”

“We’re not going back just so you can look for his little knife. No way,” I raise my eyebrows at him and push my bottom lip out a little, silently begging him to do what I want him to. “I’m not going to waste resources like that, (Y/N).”

“Fine,” I scowl at him. “But there’s nothing stopping me from sneaking out and borrowing a quinjet.”

Tony sighs loudly and grabs his tablet from off the table. “I’ll send out a drone to look for it, but if it can’t pick up on anything, then you’ll just have to figure out some other way to get your boyfriend’s knife back.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Tony.” I cross my arms and pout.

“Not yet, and that’s not what you should say when someone is trying to help you,” Tony says, his fingers flying across the surface of his tablet.

“You’re right,” I push off the table and press a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Thank you, Tony. I really appreciate it.”

“You should,” Tony smirks and sets the tablet on the table. “Now, we wait.”

A loud ping from the surveillance system fills the room, pulling Tony and I out of our respective naps. Tony is the first out of his chair, leaving me to rub my eyes and blink at the harsh lighting.

“What was that?”

“It looks like the drone is done with it’s scan,” Tony answers. He crosses the room and hands me the tablet. “This is all it managed to find.”

I look down at the tablet, and only see the crushed remains of what was once a lovely switchblade. The black handle is shattered, and the blade has been broken into three separate pieces. “Well shit.”

“Yeah,” He takes the tablet back and flicks through several different images taken of the mission site.

“What am I gonna do now?” I scrub my hands over my face then fold my arms across my chest. “You’re good at making up convoluted plans as an excuse to give someone a gift. What do you suggest?”

Tony runs a hand over his mouth and turns to look at me. He smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Well, it is almost Christmas.”

“Alright, everyone,” Tony addresses the room, rubbing his hands together. “Time for a little announcement.”

I plop down on the couch next to Steve as Tony somehow produces a large ceramic bowl.

“Hey, Tony,” I say, shooting him a cheeky grin, knowing full well what he’s about to say. “Whatcha got there?”

“I’m glad you asked, (Y/N), because here in my hands I hold the names for the first annual Avengers secret Santa.” He waggles his eyebrows at me.

The rest of the team erupts into groans and I whistle loudly to show my support.

“Really, Tony?” Steve asks, his voice tinged with a whine. “When do we have time to even think about buying gifts for each other, let alone secret Santa gifts?”

“More like secret Satan,” Clint mumbles. I reach over and punch him, earning a laugh in return.

“You have time as of two days ago when I decided this was happening,” Everyone groans a second time. “I’ve talked with S.H.I.E.L.D. and they’re going to be helping us out a little more than they usually do for the next couple of weeks until the annual Stark holiday party. We’ll exchange gifts then.”

“Enough with the build up, pretty boy,” I call. “Let’s choose names!”

Tony snorts and shakes his head, gesturing for me to get up. He shuffles the names around in the bowl as I approach.

“It’s taped to the bottom of the bowl,” Tony whispers.

I nod and sift through the slips of paper until I reach the bottom of the bowl. I unstick the name, flip it open just to be one hundred percent sure that it’s Clint and shove it in my pocket before grinning at Tony and turning to head back to my seat. As soon as I flop down onto the couch, Tony starts calling on the other members of the team. I watch with mild interest at everyone’s facial expressions as they unfold their slips of paper. Steve’s eyes widen momentarily before he folds the slip and slinks back to his seat. The corners of Clint’s mouth quirk up into a little smile, and Sam nods a couple of times. Bucky, Rhodey and Nat’s expressions are unreadable and Bruce just seems resigned to the fact that we’re even doing this. Scott takes one look at the name on his slip of paper, purses his lips, and turns on his heel to sit back down. Tony takes the last name in the bowl and tucks it into his back pocket.

“What now?” Bucky asks.

“Now we do whatever it is we do when we’re not on missions,” Tony answers. “I assume that’s paperwork, research and training. Unless you want to go out and shop for your secret Santas right now.”

Everyone sighs collectively and, one after another, they haul themselves out of their seats and go their separate ways. Even if everyone is annoyed at the idea of doing secret Santas, I think that they’ll have fun with it in the end.

“You okay there, (Y/N)?”

I look up at Tony and smile. “Yeah, I’m good.” Tony reaches out a hand to help me up and I take it. “I think I’m gonna go out and try to find a knife.”

“Do what you have to do,” Tony says. “I just hope they aren’t too crazy expensive.”

I shrug. “Like you said, I’ll do what I have to do.”

It took me five days wandering around eight different shopping centers to finally find the perfect knife. There’s a little specialty knife shop about two hours away from the tower just outside of Saratoga Springs that has a limited collection of beautifully restored, vintage switchblades.

As soon as I step through the door, the owner is there to help me out.

“What can I help you find?”

“I’m looking for a very specific black switchblade,” I answer. “It would be fairly old, but still in usable condition.”

The elderly man’s eyes brighten and he gestures for me to follow him. He slips behind the counter and stops in front of a case about three feet away from the register.

“All of our switchblades will be right here. I’m not sure if we’ll have what you’re looking for, but there is a fair selection.”

Scanning over the rows of knives, my eyes catch sight of one that’s nearly a carbon copy of Clint’s original knife.

“That one,” I say, pointing to the glossy black knife. “That’s the exact knife I’m looking for.”

The man’s greying eyebrows lift in surprise. “Are you sure? It’s not cheap, you know.”

“As long as he can use it like he does his other knives, it’s perfect.”

“It’s a gift, eh?” He says, carefully taking the knife from the display. “He must be very lucky to have someone like you.”

“Well, we’ll see how lucky he is after I give it to him.”

The man laughs and presses the knife into a cushioned box. I pay for the knife, and thank the man for his time. I leave the store without an ounce of doubt about my purchase.

-December 3rd-

“So,” Tony sidles up beside me, drink in hand. “Did you ever find that knife?”

“I sure did,” I shoot him a grin. “It’s perfect too. Almost exactly like the one that got destroyed.”

“Really? How much did that cost you?”

“Eh, nothing too crippling.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it then.”

I sigh and shake my head. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but it was almost a hundred dollars.”

Tony nearly spits out his drink. “Seriously?!”

“I may have given him one of Clint’s broken arrows and signed a couple of group photos for him to get him to knock down the price a little.”

“So you used the “We Saved The World Twice” discount, did you?”

“Maybe,” I mumble into my drink, glaring at him over the rim of the glass.

“I’m just kidding, I know how important this is to you.”

“I know, you banter because you love.”

“Exactly,”

“So, who did you get for secret Santa?”

“I got Barnes.”

I let out a low whistle. “How do you think you did?”

“Well I didn’t buy him any sort of weapon, so I think I did fairly well.”

I shake my head and toss back the rest of my drink. “As long as you didn’t get him stainless steel wipes, I think you’ll be alright.”

“I didn’t even think to get those,”

“Good. You shouldn’t unless you truly do have a death wish.”

“I’ll remember that for our next secret Santa,”

I smack his arm and he laughs, his eyes glittering.

Looking round the room, I find everyone talking and laughing. They seems happier than they’ve been in months. Steve leans on Bucky’s shoulder and whispers something in his ear, making Bucky laugh like he never has before while Sam shakes his head beside them, grinning ear to ear. Clint and Nat lean on the bar, pointing to different people milling about the party and snickering at each others comments. Scott bounces around the room, mingling with just about everyone. It’s his first Stark party, so his excitement is understandable.

Rhodey approaches us, beer in hand and a rare easy smile on his face.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Happy said that he and the security crew can wrap up down here if we want to head upstairs for the night.”

“Cool,” I shoot him and Tony a grin. “I’ll go let everyone else know if you and Tony wanna head upstairs.”

Rhodey nods and follows Tony to the elevator. When they’re out of sight, I start making the rounds, talking to people around the room that I recognize and letting the team know that we’re headed upstairs. We all slowly trickle into the common area upstairs, all of us lounging on couches and comfy chairs.

Someone tosses a gift into Steve’s lap and he looks up, blinking slowly at Bucky who had thrown the gift at him. A faint pink dusts his cheeks as he heads back to his seat. One at a time, each of us gets up and reveals who’s name they drew. Steve got Tony, Nat got Sam, Rhodey and Scott somehow got each other, Clint got Natasha and Sam got Bruce. The only person left who hasn’t received their gift is Clint. I slowly push myself up off the couch and hand a black box with a large red ribbon on it to him. He looks up at me, confusion written plainly on his features. I simply smile at him and head back to my seat.

I hear Clint gasp as soon as I sit down, and I know he’s opened his gift. I cautiously look up and find that Clint is on his feet, crossing the room towards me. He holds out a hand and I take it. He pulls me up from my seat and leads me away from the group and down the hallway. We’re followed by a loud “Oooh, someone’s in trouble!” from Sam, and I clap my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.

When Clint has decided that we’ve gone far enough, He turns around to face me.

“You… you bought that knife?”

“Well the one you lost was damaged beyond repair, so the only option was to replace it.”

“It must have cost you a fortune, I can’t accept it.”

I shake my head. “You can, and you will.” He scowls, but when I reach a hand up to cup his jaw his expression immediately softens. “I know how important that knife was to you. You were pretty torn up about losing it, and I wanted to fix that.”

“There’s absolutely nothing I did to deserve this,” He says softly.

“Well, like you said, I like your ass.”

“Wait, what?”

“I like you, Clint. And I know you like me too. Nat told me like a month ago.”

His eyes go impossibly wide. “She wasn’t lying then,” He pulls away from me and paces up and down the hall. “The one time she tells the truth, and I think she’s lying.”

“Clint, calm down,” I manage to catch his arm and stop his pacing. “What are you talking about?”

“Nat told me you liked me almost a month ago and I thought she was messing with me,”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re smart and gorgeous, and I’m kind of stupid and oblivious.” He shakes his head. “You can have just about any guy out there, and you seriously want me?”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, first of all, you’re not stupid. No one can aim like you do, and you’re constantly three steps ahead,” I push his hair off of his forehead and frown at him. “You get hurt a lot, and you don’t always put yourself first, but you care about keeping people safe. Plus, you’re one of the most handsome men I have ever seen in my life, you’ve got legs for days and killer abs. Who wouldn’t want to be with you?”

“Only one of the most handsome men?” He asks, a smile playing at his lips.

“You know what?” I lace my fingers through the hair at the back of his head and pull his face down towards mine. “Shut up.”

“Only if you make me,” He smirks and circles his arms around my waist.

“Gladly,”

I pull him into a kiss that’s gentle at first, but quickly becomes more heated. I bite gently at his bottom lip before pulling away, trying to catch my breath.

“Wow,” He pants out, eyes flitting over my face.

I tilt my head to the side. “I tell you what. Give it till tomorrow morning, think about it a bit, and then let me know if you really want to give the knife back. But, until then,” I take his hand in mine and lead him further down the hallway. “We can talk a little more about how gorgeous and smart you think I am.”

“But the others-” I cut him off with a pointed look, turning the knob of my door and backing inside. “Never mind, merry Christmas to me!”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

Tag listers:

@lost-yet-never-found, @tempestinatea-cup,@helmerfan43,@pokemaniac1,@baguettegirl,@ididnotseethatcoming,@chronolockcd,@creaturefeatures101,@wintcrcaptain,@arianaamaris,@nerdycinderella,@imagine-assembling-the-avengers,@wordstothewisereaders,@ptprocrastination,@1950schick,@neverenough24,@amayasymone23,@liladeldiamandis,@thebeutifulsunriseofmoi,@numbersdonotwinbattles,@super-potter-4ever,@kaykay0522,@arfrona-and-marvel,@ek823,@deansbaby67supernatural,@ilovebeingjoyful,@always-a-marvel-addict,@furrywerewolfcollector,@evansscruff,@theamazingworldofmarvelfics,@maurici65,@swing-dance-into-my-heart, @kissofvenom922, @not-that-type-of-person,@marvel-at-stucky,@arianaamaris, @dawn-phantomhive, @superwhovian80, @always-a-marvel-addict,@fangirlwithasweettooth,@lunalovegood2,@awesomeahwu,@thedoctorlivesthroughbooks,@kitkatgaming,@wordstothewisereaders, @mairhof1,@fantasiesfortomorrow,@leahhavoc,@awesomea102938,@samwinchesterswifey,@kaywolves,@anthonysfark,@childrenofhumanity,@bucky-barnes–winter-soldier, @gucci-zjm,@howdoesoneadult,@nyotapon,@redroomproperty,@sscarletwitchess, @saved-by-words-and-music, @thefandomplace, @themeechofitall, @yourbuddyyourpalyourbucky, @claws-of-vibranium, @here-to-wreak-havok, @gcneral-organa, @always-an-evans-addict, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @marvelbase001, @lady-thor-foster

#clint bartonxreader #readerxclint barton #clintbartonxreader #readerxclintbarton #clint barton x reader #reader x clint barton #clint barton #hawkeye #marvel #marvel fanfiction #reader insert #reader insert marvel fic #marvel fluff #fluff fic #hawkeye fanfiction #hawkday #my perfect birdie boy

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arrow-guy · 9 years ago

Text

The Little Tunnels - part 3

A/N: Alright, here we go with part 3. This is turning out to be a little longer than I had originally planned it to be. So, who’s up for a part four?

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 1896

Warnings: Angst, mostly fluff~

part 2

“Clint, what are they doing here?” I hiss, dropping my bad to the floor.

“Hey, don’t get up on me, this isn’t my fault.” He says, his tone angry, though I don’t think it’s because of me. “I told them I was going to talk to you myself, but apparently no one trusts me.”

“Sorry, Barton, but you’ve never really been known to follow through with stuff like this in the past.” Tony says.

“Seriously, Nat? You let them follow me?” Clint asks, his voice filled with hurt.

“I’m the one who put the tracking device in your jacket.” Natasha answers, her voice even.

“You would seriously turn on your friends like this?” I question. Everyone turns to look at me collectively, as if suddenly realizing I was there. “How dare you.”

“What?” Steve asks, his voice quiet.

“I told you guys she didn’t want to come back.” Clint says through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you guys ever listen to me? Even when you listen to me, you never really hear what I’m saying, do you?”

“Clint, please w-” Nat starts to say, but I cut her off.

“No, you don’t get to make excuses.” I say angrily. “You don’t get to come here unannounced and uninvited, and you sure as hell don’t get to stay.”

“(Y/N)…” Bruce says quietly.

“No, all of you. Get out.” Everyone looks surprised. Everyone but Clint. He just looks tired and sad. No one makes a move to leave, so I repeat myself. “Get. Out.” I growl, pointing behind me at the door. “GET OUT.”

They all seem to finally get the message and rush past me and out the door. Clint slowly follows after them, Lucky trailing behind him. Before he walks out the door he stops in front of me.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I didn’t want any of this to happen, I promise.”

“I know, don’t apologize. It’s okay.” I can feel tears starting to well up, and I rub at my eyes angrily with the heel of my hand.

“Do you still want to talk about what happened at work earlier?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I answer, my voice shaking slightly.

“Do you wanna do that after you’ve gotten some sleep?” I nod wordlessly in response. “How does noon sound?”

“Good.” I nod, trying to calm myself as best as I possibly can.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” He says, gently pulling me into a hug. He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before beckoning for Lucky to follow him.

Before he closes the door, he turns back and flashes me a sad smile. I nod to him and he leaves. As soon as he’s gone my body starts to shake and the tears start to fall. I slide my back down the door until I’m sitting in the floor, my body wracked with sons. I don’t exactly know why I’m crying. I just know that I can’t bottle it up forever, so I don’t bother holding back. It’s a good five minutes before I can peel myself off the floor and head to my room. I manage to change into a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt before collapsing in bed and almost instantaneously falling asleep.

It seems like it’s only been a matter of minutes when there’s a banging on my door and a dog barking along. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s Clint and that he’s brought Lucky back with him.

“You know how to get in!” I call from my room, trying to get dressed before he comes in.

“I do!” Clint calls back. “But I brought food and my hands are full.”

“Ooh, and I was so close to staying in bed all day.” I say as I approach the door. I hear a small laugh from the other side of the door. When I open the door I find Clint holding a pizza and a bag of what looks like Chinese take-out. “Pizza and take-out?”

“Pizza’s for the dog, take-out’s for us.” he explains. “We might be lucky and get a couple slices, but this mutt is greedy.”

“Are you greedy, Lucky?” I ask, crouching down and offering him my hand. He brushes past Clint and pushes his head into my hand, his tail wagging and shaking his backside. “Mmm, I don’t think so. Is Clint wrong about you?” At this he barks happily and I look up at Clint and chuckle. “He says you’re wrong.”

“Well he would definitely say that.” Clint says, squinting at the happy dog.

“Well, come in.” I step aside to let clint into the apartment. He smiles and nods to me before stepping past me.

“Nice place place you’ve got here.” He says, looking around before turning back to me and grinning lopsidedly.

“Thanks, I really went for the “nearly homeless” minimalist look.”

“So, you want some take-out or what?” He asks, lifting the bag as he plops down onto my couch.

“Of course.” I drop down next to him, tucking my feet underneath me after getting comfortable. “I’m always down for chow mein.”

“Good, cause I’ve got two large boxes and pot stickers.” He sets the bag down on the couch before dropping the pizza box on the floor and opening it.

“You really should feed him better.” I comment, taking a box of the greasy noodles from the bag, opening it, and stabbing a fork into the food.

“Every time I take him to the vet they say he’s fine.” Clint says, taking a massive bite of his own noodles. “I swear I feed him kibble, but he really just loves pizza and shit like that.”

“Huh.” I intone, shoveling a rather unladylike amount of food into my mouth. Clint watches me with an amused smile on his face. “Wha’?”

“You’re just really cute.” He says. I feel a heat rise in my face and I guess I’m blushing.

“Even with a pounf of chinefe food in my fafe?“ I ask around the food in my mouth, my hand covering my lips to keep from spraying him with any food particles.

“Especially with a pound of Chinese food in your face.” He answers, his smile growing, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“You’re cheesy.” I mumble, rolling my eyes.

“Really?” He says. “Are you sure it’s not the pizza?”

“I am very sure.” I nod, trying to chew and swallow the food before continuing. “You don’t have to butter me up. I’m already in love with you.”

“So I didn’t go completely insane. You actually love me?” He says, stabbing his fork into his food.

“Well if we examine the case, the evidence is pretty incriminating.” I say simply. “If anything, I’m the one who’s surprised. I never would have thought that you liked me too.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Internalized self loathing?” I shrug. “Probably something along those lines.”

“I had no idea.” He says quietly, his eyes widening slightly.

“Don’t worry about it, Clint.”

“I’m still going to worry about you in general though. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” I breathe. He smiles at me in response.

He slowly leans forward, gently cupping my cheek with his free hand, and kisses me softly. I take my time in kissing him back, reaching out to place my food on the coffee table to free up my hands. When my hands are empty, Clint scoops me up and places me in his lap, breaking away to look me in the eyes and push some hair out of my face. We study each other’s faces for a moment before he moves forward and captures my lips with his again. One of his arms snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest, the other tangles into the hair at the base of my skull. My hands gently card through his short, blond locks before coming to rest on either side of his jaw. Clint breaks away to pepper my face with kisses, placing soft pecks all over my cheeks and forehead.

“You taste like msg.” He grins at me.

“And you smell like dog.” I raise my eyebrows at him, a smile playing at my lips.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, his tone suddenly very serious.

“For what?”

“For the team following me, for breaking into your apartment the other day, for showing up at the the-” I cover his mouth with my hand to stop him.

“Nope, stop.” He raises his eyebrows at me, his eyes asking why?. “The team following me was their fault. Not yours. I know that.” His brow furrows and I remove my hand. “As for tonight and the night before this, I know that you were concerned about me. I know that you still are. I’m not upset about that.”

“You’re not?” He sounds surprised.

“No, I’m not.” I shake my head. “I was out of line for yelling at you, I know that. I was frustrated and I lashed out at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“They did…” He mumbles.

“Okay, sure, but you didn’t.” I counter. “You were only trying to help and I snapped at you. For that, I am extremely sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He’s silent for a minute before continuing. “I don’t want you to come back to the tower.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I don’t want you to go back.” He repeats. “At least until you’re ready to.”

“Really?” I ask, searching his eyes.

“Yes, really.” He answers. “After what happened earlier this morning, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back just yet. I was talking to them after I saw you that first night and they were all really concerned about getting you back, but it was for themselves. I want you to come back, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want you to come back for the wrong reasons. I want to have a relationship with you, and as much as I want to be selfish, I can’t risk ruining what we could possibly have.”

“That was the best thing you could have ever said to me right now, you know that, right?”

“Bringing you fast food, making out on your couch and saying all the right things? I am on a roll today.” He says, a sly grin stretches across his lips as he slips his free arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. We sit in comfortable silence for a short while before I speak up again.

“I have an idea.”

“Do tell.”

“I think we should spend more time together outside of the cinema and you breaking into my apartment.”

“I have to admit, I like that idea a lot.”

“I have a day off next week too.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Maybe we could hang out at the tower.”

“Wait,” He says, suddenly sitting much straighter. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not?” I shrug. “It’ll get the team off my back and it’s not like I don’t want to go back. You’re there, and they’re my family.”

“We don’t deserve you, you know that right?”

“I don’t know if that’s completely true. I think I just want to look for a compromise right now, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” His smile softens. “I won’t tell them you’re coming.”

“They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

---------

Part 4

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!

On another note, do you guys want me to write a part four?

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arrow-guy · 9 years ago

Text

The Radar Technican

Original request from a v lovely anon: Hello, I was wondering if you could do one where the reader has really low self-esteem and doesn't really like herself but Bucky or Clint helps her and shows her how much she means to them and the team? Thanks!

A/N: Okay, so, I changed this up a little bit and I hope you’re okay with and like it ;u;

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 1836

Warnings: Angst, slight language

“Alright, guys, it looks like you’ve got a battalion headed for you from the East.”

“Got it, thanks.”

“Just doin my job.” I say, casually spinning around in the pilot’s chair before rising and opening up multiple holographic screens to go along with the infrared monitor I already had up.

I watch the multitude of monitors in the cabin. Each of them shows a different image and provides information vital to the mission. One shows radar, another displays and infrared view of the battlefield, and another three show live footage at different angles of the team, close up and in full color. Each display allows me to have a sort of eagle eye view of all the goings on during the mission. It hurts to see everyone out there, fighting the good fight, only to be stuck on the monitors. I can't help but feel… useless.

“How’re we lookin (Y/N)?” Tony’s voice crackles over the comms.

“Pretty stylish.” I answer. “Like you’re not trying, but it’s really working for you. Very twentieth century super hero squad.”

“It’s good to know we can make this shit look good.” Clint’s voice breaks through. I scan the monitors for him, my eyes locking onto him almost instantaneously.

“Clint get outta there!” I cry.

“What, why?” He asks.

“There’s a missile closing in on you, and it’s moving extremely fast!” I explain, tripping over my words. “Please! Just move!”

I watch in pure horror as he tries to get out of the way. It's like everything is moving in slow motion, and there's nothing I can do to help. He dashes to the side and manages to dive behind a wall as the missile makes contact with the ground and explodes.

“That was a little too close for comfort.” Clint sighs from his hiding place.

A loud beeping comes across the intercom and I spread my arms, bringing up seven more screens, one for each of the team. Steve, Tony, Wanda, Nat, Rhodey, Sam and Bucky all have red dots trained on them. My eyes flit over the rest of the screens. Zooming out on the infrared, I see eight other heat signatures trailing across the sky. I can only assume they’re meant for the team. Tony’s thruster boots are damaged and he can’t get out, Rhodey is pinned down by a couple of heavily armed enforcers and everyone else is, basically unprotected.

“Guys, take cover.” I say, plopping down in the pilot’s chair and lifting the craft from the ground.

“What, why?” Steve asks.

“You’ve got eight missiles inbound. Someone really wants you guys dead.” I answer. I try to maneuver the quinjet up through the thick canopy of trees as quickly as possible so I can assist the team. “I’m gonna try to shoot down as many as I can, but I can’t promise anything, so I need you get as far away as you can.”

“(Y/N), no, what if one of those things hits you?” Clint’s voice cuts through.

“That’s a risk I have to take.” I say, angling the jet so that I’m in the path of the incoming explosives. “You guys are the important ones, and you have to get out.”

There’s a chorus of shouting protests, but I block them out. Arming the quinjets projectile weaponry I watch the screens for any sign of them moving. One by one, they gather each other and flee the area, taking out as many of the opposing forces men as they possibly can on their way. I lock onto the missiles with the targeting system and fire.

I miss the first, second and third shots before deciding that firing a single round at a time wasn’t going to get me where I wanted to go and that point and spray is the way to go. I quickly switch the settings and pull the triggers. The projectiles are a little too far away for me to see clearly, so I just shoot off five to ten rounds at a time in the general direction of where I want them to go. I manage to take out two of the missiles, but miss the other six. I have to wait till they’re closer to stop them.

“(Y/N), what’s the plan here?” Steve asks.

“I didn’t really get past blow shit up and not die, so, there really isn’t one.” I hear him sigh and I try to ignore the growing worry as I wait for the missiles to get closer. “You’ve got everyone out of the area right?”

“Yeah, but, (Y/N), you have to be careful. We can’t lose you.”

Yeah, you can, I think. But I’ll try not to die.

“Okay, got it.”

The missiles are approaching quickly now. I can see them a little more clearly and I take my shots. I manage to take all but one of them out and the last one is headed straight for me. There’s nothing I can do, it’s too close.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Steve asks, his voice stern.

“Sam, you think I could get a ride?” I ask, opening the back of the quinjet and rising from my seat.

“Sure, when?”

“Um, right about now.” I run down the ramp and launch myself out of the aircraft. I make sure I've got my hands over my head to make it easier for him to catch me.

I'm free falling for a moment longer than I had hoped to and I panic a bit. I close my eyes and hope for the best. Suddenly I feel two strong hands gripping my wrists and.the wind blowing across my face. I realize Sam caught me and I quickly grip his wrists in an attempt to reduce the strain on his arms.

“Shit, (Y/N), you are heavier than you look.” He jokes.

“Sorry about tha-” A massive explosion cuts off my words. The force of the blast propels us forward and forces Sam off balance. He loses control and opts to pull me to his chest, wrap us in his wings around the two of us and brace for impact. We hit a few trees before bouncing onto the hard packed dirt of the ground and rolling to a stop.

When Sam unfurls his wings I roll off of him and stumble to my feet. When I’m finally upright someone immediately pulls me to their chest, one arm around my shoulders and the other hand is on the back of my head. I slowly wrap my arms around their middle, unsure of what else to do.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Clint’s tone is reprimanding. “You could have gotten killed!”

“I didn’t though.” I say quietly, my eyes going wide. Clint sighs as he pulls me away and holds my shoulders, looking at me very seriously. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but someone cuts him off.

“That was reckless and irresponsible, (Y/N), how could you even think to do that?” Steve says angrily.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Mr. Jumps-out-of-planes-without-parachutes. I know what I did was stupid, but no one died and had I not put the quinjet in the path of the missile you guys would have been little itty bitty meat chunks and it would have been my fault. I don’t know about you, but if I had died, I think still would have said that it was the right call.” I scowl at him. “I’m not like you guys. No one knows who I am, I don’t see action, I’m expendable. Don’t dress it up and act like I could be anything else.”

“I-I… (Y/N),” His eyes widen with shock at my words. I pull myself out of Clint’s grasp and walk away from the two of them.

“I’m calling for another quinjet right now.” Tony mumbles, slowly turning away from the group.

I sigh quietly and slide my back down a tree to sit on the cold, hard packed dirt ground. I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know why I got so upset. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was unreasonable and unprofessional. I know what I did was stupid, but I still feel hot tears prick at my eyes at the thought of everything that had just happened. I rub away the impending waterworks with the heel of my hand before trying to curl in on myself and disappear for good.

The sound of a twig snapping pulls me out of my half hearted pity party. My head snaps up, looking around for the source of the noise. I scan the area until I see someone leaning on a tree nearby. Slowly, Clint comes into view, hands raised at my hostile expression. He ambles over to me and plops down beside me.

“So what was that all about back there?” He asks.

“Nothing...”

“Oh please, that shit show wasn’t just “nothing”. Something’s wrong.” I turn my face away from him so he can’t see the tears forming in my eyes. “Come on, (Y/N), what’s going on with you? You’ve never acted like this before.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

“Oh you definitely do.” Clint wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. “But I won’t push you if you don’t wanna talk. It’s okay.”

“I know what I did was stupid. I fully realize that,” I say. “It was dangerous and I could have died.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I don’t know, I guess I kind of feel like I’m interchangeable and a throwaway. When you find someone more qualified, you’ll just let me go and move on to them.” I release a long breath. “At least this way I would have gone out with a bang.”

“Ooh, harsh wordplay there, (Y/N).” I snort disdainfully. “Do you seriously think you’re unimportant?”

“I don’t know, I guess so.” I shrug again.

“Damn, okay.” He’s silent for a second, rubbing his hand up and down my arm like he’s trying to soothe me. “You think you’re unimportant, but if you were, then I wouldn’t have listened to you earlier. I would be dead.”

“Clint...”

“I would have been the one going out with a bang.”

“Clint, please,”

“Splat.” He exaggerates the ‘t’ sound, smacking his hand against his leg. He tilts his head so he can look at me. “The point is, you are more important to the team than you think and you’re more important to us than you’ll ever know.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah,”

“Well then I guess you’ll just have to operate on that until you can realize it for yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Come on.” He quickly stands up and offers his hand to me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, placing my hand in his. Clint hauls me to my feet before answering.

“I think the Captain owes you an apology.”

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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