#clint barton & you

[waltermis]

Supportive Girlfriend

Steve: Why do you encourage Y/N's behaviour?

Natasha: What?! I do not!!

Tony: Really?! Exhibit A

*flashback*

*Y/N jumps out from behind the door*

Y/N: BOO!

Clint: ...😒😒

Tony: ...🙄🙄

Natasha: ...

*Y/N pouting*

Natasha: Ahhh! you scared the living shit out of me!

*end flashback*

Natasha: I was genuinely scared that time

Clint: Uh huh... sure you were.

Natasha: I was!

Clint: Moving on, Exhibit B

*flashback*

Y/N: Knock knock

Natasha: Who's there?

Y/N: Interrupting cow

Natasha: Interrupting c-

Y/N: MOOOOOOOOOOO!

Natasha: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH THAT'S TOO GOOD!!! AHAHAHAH

*end flashback*

Natasha: I really thought it was funny!

Wanda: Nat, it really wasn't...

Natasha: Well, exCuSE mE for trying to be a suPpOrTiVe GirLFriEnD!!! I guess I'll just stop...

*Y/N walks into the kitchen*

Y/N: Hey, babe, guess what?

Natasha: What?

Y/N: What kind of sound does a witch's vehicle make?

Natasha: I dunno, what?

Y/N *snickering*: Brrrroooom, brrroooom.

Natasha: ....

*Y/N stops laughing*

Y/N: ...Do you not like it? 🥺🥺🥺

Natasha: OOOOOHHHHH! Brrrroooom, brrroooom. That's so fucking smart!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Y/N: YES!!! Nailed it!

*Y/N walks out*

*Everyone looking at Natasha*

Natasha: WHAT?!

[literaryavenger]

Thoughtful

Summary: You find something of Bucky's.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader

Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Just a whole lot of fluff.

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: This is a dream I had and I couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to write it down. Hope somebody enjoys it!

Masterlist

“Good morning.” you say casually to Bucky sitting at the island as you enter the kitchen.

He merely nods back to acknowledge your presence while sipping his coffee. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t like you, he’s just not a morning person. But the whole team is used to his morning grumpiness.

Also, you and the brunette supersoldier aren’t particularly close, so you don’t really expect bells and whistles when he sees you.

You pour some coffee for yourself and then sit on the kitchen island in front of Bucky. A light jingle coming from under your shirt gets Bucky’s attention and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that?” He asks you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You frown at his question before following his eyeline and seeing him looking at your chest. But he’s not staring at your boobs through your admittedly thin tank top, he’s looking under them where he can see something resting between the fabric and your skin.

You’re honestly confused at what that is for a moment before you remember and your eyes widen a little as your cheeks start reddening in embarrassment.

Bucky’s confused at your reaction as he watches you take the chain around your neck to bring out the set of dog tags around your neck and Bucky frowns even more.

“I didn’t know you were in the military…” He comments while looking at the tags and then at you, unclear as to why you’d be embarrassed about it.

“I wasn’t…” You say quietly while glancing down at the tags. “They’re kinda… yours.”

Bucky’s even more dumbfounded by your answer. But, after letting your words sink in and deciding he indeed heard you correctly, he couldn’t help the grin that started to grow on his face, much to your surprise.

You thought maybe he’d be mad, although it’s not like you stole them, you simply found them. But still, you were worried what he might think about you wearing them.

“Oh good, I thought I lost them!” He says relieved. “I looked for them everywhere.”

“Well, can I have them back now?” He asks you after a moment of silence and you realize you haven’t even taken them off yet this whole time.

So you quickly do, leaning over the kitchen island and setting them down carefully on his outstretched hand. You watch him put them on, your eyes lingering on the metal on his chest a minute longer than necessary before going back up to his. 

“And why exactly are you wearing my dog tags?” He asks, and right now you wish he’d get mad at you instead. Anything is better than the amusement that’s all over his face at watching you squirm in your seat.

“I found them at the gym… But it’s not like I was planning to keep them.” You quickly justify yourself, your tone entirely too defensive even to your own ears as you blush more. “But you had just left for your mission with Steve and I thought I would just keep them safe until you came back, so I put them on… But I had every intention to give them back, I swear!”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, doll...” He says, his grin turning into a full grown smirk as he points out the obvious. “But I’ve been back for a week, and you were still wearing them.”

“Yeah, I-I guess I got so used to them that I forgot to give them back…” You say quietly, your face turning impossibly red as Bucky seems to be having the time of his life right now.

You groan internally when you see his smirk still going strong at your embarrassment and you decide to cut your losses and not give him more fuel to add to the fire before 9am.

You get up and put your empty cup in the sink. As you turn around you’re startled to find the Sergeant much closer to you than he was before, the kitchen island no longer between you. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything or even pull away before he’s talking.

“On the other hand…” He takes his dog tags off and reaches out to put them around your neck, making sure to keep his eyes on the metal and not glance at your boobs no matter how much he wants to. “Maybe you could hold onto them for me.”

He looks at the tags on your chest then up to your face before he pulls away completely with a quiet “Beautiful.” and takes a step back, leaving you a flustered mess.

After a minute you remember how to breathe and you glance down at the tags. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We wouldn’t want me to lose them again now, would we?” He says with a smile, reaching out to lift your chin gently and making you look at him. “But you’ll keep them safe for me, right doll?”

You nod almost without thinking about it, his eyes putting you in a trance. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right about now, all you can really hear is your own heart pounding anyway.

“Plus, now I can do this…” He lets go of your chin and wraps his hand around the chain of the dog tags. 

He uses his hold on them to pull you closer and your heart skips a beat as he leaves you a soft kiss on your lips. You barely realize what’s happening before he’s pulling away again and you merely look at him with your mouth agape in shock.

Before you can say anything, though, you hear snickers from the door of the kitchen and you both turn towards it just to see the whole team there. All of them have smirks, grins and smiles, everyone delighted at the situation as your face starts getting redder than Tony’s Iron-man suit.

You look back at Bucky and the cheeky bastard is also smirking, clearly much more amused than you at being caught like this.

“Okay, well,” You say while clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping away from Bucky to escape from this situation altogether. “I’m gonna go research the tallest building in New York so I can throw myself off of it.”

Your deadpan reaction leaves everyone laughing as they get away from the door so you can pass.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad!” Tony yells after you between laughs, obviously sarcastic and you roll your eyes.

“Bite me, Stark!” you yell back, not even tempted to look back as you try to hide a smile of your own while hearing the team’s amusement in the kitchen.

You’re still a little in shock that Bucky kissed you but, once the embarrassment at the team having witnessed it washes away, you can’t wait to follow up on this with Sergeant Grumpy.

Part 2

[ddeck]

hey, remember this hawkguy??

[rxmqnova]

*Avengers meeting*

Tony: Y/N is late again.

Steve: How did this happen? I called her at 8 o'clock this morning and pretended it was 11.

Clint: I printed up a fake schedule for her saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon.

Natasha: I set her clock to say PM when it's really AM.

Wanda: Oh boy. We may have overdone it.

*Y/N bursts through the door*

Y/N: WHAT TIME IS IT?

[xenocorner]

Trying out some stuff and of course he's my victim

[spectrecowboy]

im just the guy who takes the traumatized blorbos and gives em a nap

[cobaltperun]

Happy black widow

Nat: *eating her sandwich that "mysteriously" appeared on her table*

-other side of the room-

Clint: Really? Another sandwich?

Y/N: *looking away and whispering* Well-fed black widow is a happy black widow and I have intentions with the Black Widow...

Clint: Yeah? And what are those intentions?

Y/N: *still whispering* She looks so happy and cute when she eats them.

Clint: Adorable.

Yelena: Just ask her out already!

Clint: *patting Yelena on the back* They'll get there. Eventually.

*Later*

Y/N: *drinking favorite beverage* Whoever brought this is my second favorite person.

Yelena: The first is Natasha?

Y/N: Yup.

-other side of the room-

Nat: *smiling proudly*

Clint: Maybe it would be more effective if you weren't sneaky about it?

Nat: We'll get there.

[unholyhelbig]

Oversight one shot request - Nat and reader dealing with the aftermath of an argument that got heated, nat realising she was wrong which is rare for her and having to try and make it up to reader

Title: The Sword and the Stone [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Reader and Natasha get into a heated argument when Reader starts to doubt her true purpose in Natasha's life.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): angst, threats of drowning, light threats, implied sex, horrible grammar- I don't proof read.

[a/n: yeah, I really don't know what this is. Life has been so hectic lately and I'm so exhausted. Someone put me out of my misery and make sure I never have to go back to South Carolina ever again.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

The black wax seal on the three-hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey had left a filmy residue against the mouth of the glass. It gave the warm drink an oaky edge that helped you swallow it down. The first sip had burned through your nostrils and down your throat until it lit a fire in your belly. The second seemed to extinguish the first.

You’d kept drinking until there was a pleasant buzz across your skin. You’d rolled your pantlegs up to the middle of your calves until the fabric was constricting and swished your legs around in the dark water of the pool. The scent of chlorine mixed dangerously with the bergamot undertones of the alcohol.

The moon was full and gave you a full encompassed view of the backyard and the edge of the lake lapping at the rocky shores. If you squinted, you could see the dots of red and green as buoys molded to the tides. Fishing boats navigated their way to the docks, their rumbling alerts shaking your chest.

You lifted the crystal glass to your lips and took a deeper gulp. It was warm and unpleasant but eventually ebbed to a cynical type of comfort. You placed the glass to the side and worked your fingers numbly through your hair. They ached incessantly. Your body wasn’t built for this anymore.

There was a soreness to your jaw and the underlying taste of metal that coated your throat. Before you’d walked into your shared home, the redness had started to grow a nasty, ugly purple. I’d certainly be swollen in the morning, even if you had pressed a bag of frozen peas to it.

It was a cycle. A vicious one that you’d endured for the past ten years. You were a blade in Natasha Romanoff’s toolkit. To the city, you were a composed and elegant viper; deadly when you bit but often found wrapping yourself around the arm of Eve. The crowd parted for you. Politicians groveled and clients smiled uneasily, in a scared sort of kindness.

With a groan, you laid yourself back on the patio stones and stared up at the stars. They pockmarked the sky in constellations that threatened to spin until they turned to lines of warbled light. You’d had too much to drink, and too little to eat. You’d lay here until the light in your bedroom flicked off and you could sneak in smelling of booze.

Of course, you heard your wife approaching.

When you’d first met Natasha Romanoff, you were enveloped in eternal darkness, beaten within an inch of your life. The sound of her footfalls in heels beat against your eardrums and had caused you to jerk your head up with dizzying quickness.

Now, you could pick up noise of her bare feet padding delicately against dew-soaked grass and then leaving uneven prints against the stonework. Her scent was inky and doused in sandalwood. Something that typically brought you a wave of comfort served as a catalyst for nausea.

“If you’re going to get drunk on a Tuesday night, darling, maybe an expensive bottle of whisky is not the right avenue.”

“Mm,”

The hum tickled your throat. Natasha had lowered herself to the edge of the pool next to you, delicately dipping her feet into the warm water. Her perfectly manicured fingers pressed cooly against your forehead before carding through your hair. You sighed contentedly and leaned into her touch before you registered that you were supposed to be mad at her.

“It works all the same. I’ll replace it.”

“No need. It was a thoughtless gift from Leland Owlsley after he behaved like a prick. It’s been aging for nearly a decade now.”

You made a noise that was akin to a whimper. Maybe you had underestimated the strength of the drink. Not that you would ever admit that to Natasha. You became malleable when you were drunk, and who better to work forgiveness out of you than your wife?

You draped your arm over your eyes, slurring out “Do you know the legend of Excalibur?”

Natasha scoffed, and when she didn’t give you a verbal answer, you peaked over your arm, finally getting a look at her. She was in nothing but her silk robe, the emerald green a sharp contrast to her pale expanse of skin. It had been years, and she still rendered you speechless.

She relented and shook her head, full attention trained on you. Often, you would dive into the books that lined the walls in Natasha’s study. They were leather-bound and filled with different mythos that she hadn’t read herself.

Sometimes, you would regale her with the stories of fantastical worlds that stuck with you. Of dragons that heaved heavy helpings of fire, and sea serpents that brushed their gills along the ridged edges of boats. Natasha would curl into your side, her ear pressed against your bare chest as your words lulled her into sleep.

“The blade was said to be forged with the blood of seven dragons. Each one breathed a green fire that was hotter than brimstone, and stronger than the very core of the earth. The blade, it wasn’t meant for just anyone. It may be mighty, but it’s nothing without a guiding hand.”

You hilted yourself up until you were resting all of your weight on your elbows, the rocky patio digging into your bones and stinging enough to keep you focused. Natasha had turned her head, resting her cheek on her knees and blinking slowly at you.

“For centuries, the blade was wedged in stone. Though many men tried and tried again to dislodge it, the sword would only budge for someone who was worthy, and that was Arthur Pendragon. The two worked together for decades, warding off evil, and protecting a kingdom that eventually, they came to rule.

“Arthur was considered the greatest king in Avalon’s history and served until he became too old to do so. Excalibur was not meant to be wielded by another, nor buried beneath the earth with it’s master. So, Arthur set off on his longest journey yet.”

Natasha swallowed hard. Her fingers twitched, eyes glowing under the pale light of the moon. She looked ethereal, and the snake in the pit of your stomach coiled tighter with want. You were meant to be upset with her, but the tenderness in her posture gave away her vulnerability.

“He used the last of his strength to travel across the kingdom, through vast forests, dark caverns, and steep cliffs until he crawled his way to the edge of the lake of youth. Now, stories start to differ here. But, in each, Arthur returns to sword to the ladies of the lake, determined to protect his old friend. The only one that’s ever stuck by him.

“Some say Arthur took the hand of a young siren and allowed himself to be led into the cold water. Others proclaim that he disintegrated into dust when the hilt of the sword left his hand. Either way, he was never seen again, and neither was the Excalibur.”

Some of the warmth from the whiskey was wearing off and a chill had settled against your bones. Your fingers itched to pour more of the dark buttery liquid into the glass. Natasha had moved them from your grasp with all the subtly of a god.

So, in turn, you focused on the glassy look in her eyes and willed yourself to sit up, swallowing the oaky taste in your mouth. The world spun around twice before stabilizing on the done light at the edge of the pool.

You felt a lump form in your throat, outweighing the heated effects of the alcohol. You made it a habit not to cry in front of your wife, and she rarely ever gave you a reason to. But the tensions had been swirling wickedly for months now.

“Nat,” you whispered, “sometimes I feel like I’m just your sword.”

The argument had broken out on the way home from the city. The night was a certain type of darkness that allowed the milk-white stars to shine through. It was balmy and the air conditioner whirred enough to curb the dampening interior.

You knew it was stupid to let a small thorn in your side rip and tear at your flesh until a gaping hole was left in it’s place. Your knuckles were throbbing, and a pack of peas were pressed against your jaw where a hit had landed.

You’d stepped in front of Natasha and grabbed the handle of a steak-knife and aimed it towards the ground. Your wife hadn’t even blinked, and you had no doubt that she would have misdirected the attack from the charge herself.

It was easy to strike fear into the dishwasher that reached towards whatever he could find in an act of defense. You grasped what little hair he had on the back of his head and held him under the soapy water, letting the sanitizer cling to your lungs with it’s citrus edge.

You’d gotten the money like the good loan shark you were and Natasha had pressed her fingers to the small of your back in acknowledgement before swaying off the car. You’d exited through the back, dripping with bubbles.

There were times when the weight of being Natasha Romanoff’s wife weighted you down like a pile of bricks. She was a good partner within the walls of the house. She’d pull you against her front and lean her head against your shoulder, her cold fingers wandering under the fabric of your shirt.

There were expensive bottles of wine, and perfect cuts of meat. Quiet nights where you were tangled under the covers, whispering soft nothings. Louder nights where your back was arched and stars danced across your vision.

All of this changed when you moved past the threshold of your cultivated life. You’d married Natasha knowing good and well that her family, your family, was going to be dysfunctional. The ledger for the Romanoff’s dripped a cherry red.

You were meant to be her sword, her Excalibur. You stood a few inches behind her, arms tucked behind your back and stare cold with disinterest. Though, you paid apt attention to each movement her company made.  

Years before, you had been nothing but a waitress with a high pain tolerance. You’d let Natasha mold you into the weapon that you were, and most of the time, you were content with this arrangement.

The scent of bergamot tickled your throat as she moved closer with disquieting patience. She’d withdrawn her feet from the pool and straddled your center. Her weight was familiar, but the tenderness in her stare was often hidden by her walled disposition.

You grunted, staring up at the sharp curve of her jaw and the slight flush against her cheeks. She’d been in the sun today, freckles giving her away. Her nimble fingers brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and played with the gold charm in the center of your necklace.

“Darling, you know the problem with that legend?” You shook your head, hands going to the familiar place on her hips. “The Excalibur was crafted long before Arthur was around to wield it. The fates saw him fit because of the amount of care, and love he had for the sword.”

A sigh escaped you, “I thought you didn’t know the legend.”

“Oh, everyone knows the legend.” She danced her fingers against your collarbone, your body betrayed you with goosebumps and a suppressed shiver down your spine. “But I will be the first to admit that I’ve been unfair to you.”

You blinked up at her in shock, stilling your movements. Natasha Romanoff was as stubborn as they came and never admitted to being wrong. There were moments where she tentatively agreed to a different course of action, or quietly concluded that Clint would take the lead during situations that required a softer touch.

“While I am in constant awe of your ruthlessness, I am well aware that the woman I married has a soft touch. You were a waitress bringing in tips with your dazzling smile, after-all.” Her fingers were brushing dangerously close to the hem of your pants. You felt your muscles contract under her. “I apologize, moya lyubov', for making you feel as if you are nothing but a weapon. To me, you are so much more. To me, you are everything.”

Her words became whispered against your jaw in the slightest of warmth. Your pulse thudded against your throat and her tongue pressed close to the rhythm. You groaned softly and arched upwards. Your entire body was flushed with arousal.

A salacious moan escaped her. “Do you forgive me, malyshka?”

“Mm, you’re playing dirty, Nat.”

God- you’d forgiven her even before she had uttered the words of apology. Now that her perfectly curved fingers were pushing past the waistband of your pants, you were ready to rush out whatever she wanted to hear.

“Perhaps. I mean what I say, the mere thought of you being unhappy shatters me.”

Her lips were everywhere, plush as she kissed against the corner of your lip, breathing out apologies between each nip. Natasha trailed down your jawline, your pulse-point and the curves of your chest. Her breath was molten as if fanned against your skin.

Suddenly serious, she pulled back, bracing her hands on your shoulders. She held you down with little effort, strength pulsing through her exposed muscles. You swallowed the dryness in your throat and let out a shuttered whine.

“It was never my intention to make you feel inadequate. You may be deadly, molded under my hand to protect this family with everything you have, but first and foremost, you are my wife. We’ll make sure everyone knows it. But first, I need to hear you say it.”

“Say it?” You felt the pressure build in your chest, her palms digging into your collarbone. It was a satisfying sting that made you writhe under her heavy hand, you narrowed your eyes. “Really? Right now?”

Natasha flushed, pulling herself into a sitting position. “Not that, y/n. Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”

“Oh, you mean forgiveness. Kinky.”

“krasivo, pozhaluysta”

She wouldn’t dare beg in anything less than her native tongue. Natasha’s voice was gravelly, her eyes boring into yours with a desperation that usually was reserved for silk sheets and hazy mornings. You hated seeing her like this, clawing for affection that she so rarely asked for. Your heart seized, and you maneuvered yourself until you were in a sitting position, holding her flush against you.

Natasha tucked her nose against the small of your neck and nothing short of nuzzled you. Her disposition had crumbled and her fingers wicked into the fabric of your shirt. You held her close and listened to her breathing as it mingled with the shift of water.

There were moments, few and far between, when the calls got too close, where she would do this. Just sit and embrace the sound of your heartbeat. She kept her ear against your chest and counted the minutes. You carded your fingers through her hair and embraced her amenability.

You lifted her chin until her eyes met yours, reflecting the sweeping of the chlorine saturated pool. Her bottom lip was jutted out in an almost pout. You resisted the urge to kiss the expression off her face.

“I forgive you, Natty.” You whispered against her lips, “I’ll be your Excalibur.”

Natasha scoffed and closed the minute distance between you both. The kiss was soft, her lips tasting of the lingering liquor on your own. Her arms encircled your neck, tongue begging for entrance. You felt a frown on her features, she suddenly pulled back.

“Are you insinuating that you’d rather be with a lady of the lake?”

“Nat,” You groaned, dropping your head.

“No, no, I can totally take you to the wharf if you want the other woman.”

“There is no other woman, it was a metaphor.”

“You could have chosen a metaphor without a siren, and you know it.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

[atomikats]

messy messy

[sycamorelibrary754]

Happy Easter

Summary: You are three weeks from your due date, but the thought of you and Natasha missing Easter at the Barton’s farmhouse in Iowa was simply inconceivable. What will you do if your little bundle of joy makes an early, unexpected entrance?

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Avengers x reader (platonic).

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: Happy belated Easter! I wanted to post this fic on Easter, but there wasn't enough time. This is part 3 of Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas! I recommend reading those stories first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. This was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it! 

"Does anyone know where the purple egg dye is?" you inquired, scanning the table as you addressed the Barton kids. "I could have sworn we had two cups of every color." Cooper and Lila were fully engrossed in the Easter egg decorating contest, meticulously crafting their designs, while Nate seemed to relish in using every color available on the table. "Oh, it's on the counter.”

You were just about to rise from the kitchen table, no easy feat at this stage of your pregnancy. It felt like yesterday when you surprised Natasha with your pregnancy at Thanksgiving in front of her family and announced to the team that they would all be aunts and uncles at Tony’s annual Christmas party. Your due date was three weeks away, but missing Easter with Clint’s family in Iowa was out of the question.

“Don’t get up, Y/N. I got it!” Nat said as she jumped up to grab the paper cup of purple egg dye behind you.

"Thanks, sweetheart," you said as Nat placed the cup on the table.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked as she gently caressed your cheek. "Maybe you should take a break?”

“Nat, I promise I’m okay. Come sit back down and color some Easter eggs with us,” you replied, trying to put your wife at ease. 

Natasha was looking forward to Easter, too, but she was more focused on you and the final weeks of your pregnancy. Dr. Cho had given you the green light to go, with the condition that you'd have daily check-ins by phone and go on bed rest as soon as you returned home.

"Auntie Nat, look at this!" Nate proudly showed off an egg with The Black Widow symbol on it.

"Look, Auntie Nat," you echoed with a smile.

"This is amazing! Maybe I should have you design my next suit instead of Stark," she said.

"Shall we start the judging?" Clint asked as he entered the room with Laura.

"Yep, all set," Cooper confirmed.

"Just a sec," Lila said, focused on decorating her egg. "There, done."

"Where are Yelena and Kate?" Laura asked.

"We're coming!" came a shout from the living room.

"It's not a Fabergé egg, you two, come on!" Nat yelled.

"Tada!" Kate exclaimed, revealing a beautiful purple egg with green and orange stripes.

You whispered to your wife, "So that's where all the purple dye went.”

You placed your egg on the table with all the others. Pink and blue with red polka dots. Symbolic of your current anticipation over the impending arrival of your bundle of joy. You and Nat both agreed you wanted to be surprised.

“Hmmm, this is going to be a tough decision,” Clint said, stroking his chin. “As you all know, you will be judged on creativity, technique, and presentation.”

Walking back and forth in front of the kitchen table, you couldn’t help but giggle at his mock seriousness. 

“Allow me to confer with my fellow judge,” he said. After a few moments of hushed whispers with Laura, Clint returned to the group. “We thank you all for your participation. You all decorated beautiful Easter eggs. The competition was tough this year, but one egg stands head and shoulders above the rest,” pausing for dramatic effect. “The 2024 Barton Easter Egg Decorating Champion is Nathaniel Barton!” 

You shouldn't have spent so much time on the sketches!” Yelena said, slapping Kate on the arm. 

“Yes!!” Nathaniel cheered. 

“You are hereby awarded this Lindt Milk Chocolate Gold Bunny,” his father said, handing him the gold-wrapped chocolate as big as his head.

“That you will share with the rest of the family and not eat in one sitting,” Laura added.

“Aww!” Nathaniel whined. 

*^~^*

You spent the evening on the porch, surrounded by the laughter of the kids playing on the lush green lawn as the sun set over the farm. Laura served her delicious homemade Lemonade as you shared stories and reminisced about old times. The air was filled with nostalgia so vivid that you could almost reach out and touch it. Natasha sat next to you, holding your hand gently, her calloused touch a reminder of the strength and resilience she had acquired through years of training.

You were taken by surprise as you felt the baby begin to kick.

"Wow!" You exclaimed as you gently placed your hand on your belly.

All eyes turned to you. Though unspoken, everyone shared the same nervous anticipation as your wife for the approaching due date.

"Are you alright, malyshka?" Nat asked, her eyes filled with concern as she squeezed your hand.

"I'm okay. The baby is kicking. Here, feel." You said as you took her hand and gently guided it to your stomach, trying to find the right spot. 

“Oh,” Nat squeaked. “I’ll never get used to that feeling.”

“Think how I feel!” you teased.

“Move aside, sestra; I want to feel my little plemyannitsa or plemyannik.” (Niece or nephew).

Yelena playfully bumped her sister out of the way with her hip and eagerly reached to touch your stomach.

"Wow, that's amazing!" she cried out. "Hey there, little one. I'm Aunt Yelena, and I will spoil you rotten!"

"Have you two settled on a name yet?" Kate inquired.

"No," you sighed. "We just can't seem to agree. Since we both want to be surprised, it's been twice as hard to come up with two names."

"Don't worry, you'll know when you see the little bundle of joy," Laura reassured.

"This wouldn't be an issue if either of you were open to any of the names I've suggested," Yelena added with a grin.

“Yelena is not an option,” Natasha frustratedly replied.

“What about—“ 

“Neither is Alaska! That isn’t even a name!” Your wife is exasperated.

“It could be!” Yelena said. “What about—“

“Or Wolfgang!” Nat interrupted.

“You lack all originality, sestra,” Yelena berated.

^*~*^

The soft glow of the table lamp reflected off your glasses as you delved into the pages of your latest beloved read. You placed your bookmark between the pages at the sound of your wife closing the bathroom door and crawling into bed beside you.

"Did you get a chance to talk to Helen today?" Nat asked as she helped me fluff up my pregnancy pillow.

"Yeah, I did. She was glad to hear that the swelling in my ankles went down and suggested taking a warm bath to help with the discomfort," you replied, shifting to get comfortable against the pillow.

"Mmm, a warm bath does sound amazing," Natasha hummed as she settled down on her side, facing me.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d be joining me?” You said softly, with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow.

“Of course I would, detka,” leaning over and kissing your baby bump. 

You gently squeezed Nat's hand, feeling a wave of anticipation as your due date drew near. Thoughts of what your baby would look like and who they would become filled your mind. Would they inherit Nat's fiery red hair, or perhaps have your Y/E/C eyes? The anticipation was almost overwhelming, but knowing that Natasha was by your side made it all feel possible.

"Are you looking forward to the Easter egg hunt tomorrow?" You asked, pulling yourself out of your daydream.

Nat giggled, "You make it sound like I'm the one participating."

"Well, you might as well be. I can never tell who's more excited, you or the kids," you replied.

Natasha glanced down at our intertwined hands and then back up at you. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.

"I think it's because holidays in my childhood weren’t real. We filled the photo album with fake pictures and empty boxes. But this," looking around at the small details of Clint and Laura’s farmhouse, "Is real, and I’ve always done my best to help ensure that Cooper, Lila, and Nate have everything I didn’t. A carefree childhood filled with love," Natasha explained.

"You’ve done a wonderful job with Clint’s kids, Nat. They love you so much, and I know you’ll be just as amazing with our little one," you said, doing your best to reassure her. “Goodnight, Natasha,” kissing her lips. 

“I hope you're right, detka,” Nat said, kissing your lips in return and laying a hand on your stomach. “Goodnight, malen'kiy (little one).

*^~^*

The following day, you awoke to the sun shining through the window and a soft breeze that caused the curtains to dance gently on the wind. Your back was aching, and you were tired, but you were determined to make it through today. You slipped into the most comfortable maternity outfit you had. Natasha helped you with your shoes, and you both went downstairs to the kitchen. 

“Happy Easter, you two!” Clint said upon seeing you two enter the kitchen. 

You sat down at the kitchen table as Laura placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of you and Nat, along with two glasses of orange juice. The kids were already eating and arguing over who would find the most Easter eggs this afternoon. 

Yelena and Kate walked in a few moments later, clad in bathrobes and their hair disheveled. 

“Against the idea of showering and dressing before breakfast, were you?” Natasha asked.

“Kate Bishop kept me up all night with her snoring, and Lucky and Fanny woke me up by sitting on my face,” Yelena mumbled as she flopped beside you. 

“Hey, that’s how dogs shows affection,” Kate interjected.

“So, I should consider your snoring a Valentine?” Yelena deadpanned. 

After breakfast, the kids ran upstairs to prepare for the Easter egg hunt while Clint got a head start on hiding the eggs. Nathaniel insisted Nat accompany him to help find his Easter basket, but she hesitated to leave you.

“Go ahead, babe. I’m fine.” Motioning for her to follow her namesake. 

“So, how are you really feeling?” Laura asked, now that Nat was no longer in the room. 

You let out a deep sigh, “Tired and sore,” resting your head in your hands. “But this quality time with you all means so much to both of us. I can make it one more day before going on bed rest.”

Laura rubbed her hand softly on your back, “Why don’t you sit in the family room with Kate and Yelena until the fun starts.” 

“Okay, that’s a good idea. Make sure Yelena and Kate haven’t snuck into the Easter candy,” you laughed. 

Laura helped you to your feet and then began to clear the table. As you started to walk, you felt a minor twinging pain in your stomach. You winced but thought nothing of it. With the amount of shifting the baby was doing these days, you had every spasm and cramp in the book. Unfortunately for you, you were in a house full of spies, and Laura picked up your discomfort. She made a mental note to watch you as the day progressed.

*^~^*

"Look, there's one!" Cooper exclaimed, pointing at the leather seat of the tractor in the front yard. He dashed towards it, but Lila beat him by a step. "Ha! Slowpoke," she teased.

From your spot on the porch, you glanced over and saw my wife hoisting Nathaniel onto her shoulders to carefully grab an Easter egg from the crook of an old sycamore tree. 

After about 15 minutes, everyone's baskets were full of eggs. Now came the fun of opening them all. You watched as all three kids dug into their baskets, opening the eggs to find mini Hershey bars, M&M's, jelly beans, or starbursts.

Nathaniel walked over to you and placed an Orange Starburst in your hand. "Here, Aunt Y/N. I know the Orange ones are your favorite."

"Aww, thank you, Nate," you said, kissing his forehead.

As you were about to open the soft toffy candy, a sharp contraction cut through my stomach. “Aaah!” you reached for your stomach as you bent over at the knees. Much stronger than anything you had felt before.

Natasha rushed to your side. “Y/N?! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Reaching for your hand.

"I don’t know," you grunted.

Natasha's voice quivered with anxiety as she tried to rationalize the situation. "This—this can’t be it. We’re still three weeks out," she said, her mind racing with worry. "Maybe it’s just false labor."

That was the moment when your water broke. "Oh God—" you took a sharp breath as another contraction hit.

"Okay, not false labor," Nat conceded.

"It’s okay, Y/N," Laura reassured you calmly, gently taking your hand. "Most first births are a long labor. But we’re going to get you inside, okay?"

You felt a surge of panic. "What? No, no. I can't have the baby here. I'm not ready. We had a birth plan; I don't have my overnight bag!" you started to ramble, the anxiety rising in your voice.

"You're not boarding a Quinjet now. “I'm going to call Helen,” Clint said as he started to run inside.

"What's wrong with Aunt Y/N?” Nathaniel asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart, but the baby is coming a little bit earlier than we thought," Laura said calmly as she and your wife Nat gently guided you up the steps and into the warm and welcoming embrace of the house.

"Cooper and Lila, please grab a soft, warm blanket and clean towels from the linen closet?" Laura called out to the older children, her voice steady and reassuring.

I'l boil some water and tear up some sheets!" Kate announced frantically.

"This isn't Little House on the Prairie," Yelena quipped. She looked at you and Natasha with a warm yet nervous smile. "I’ll call Mom and Dad.”

"I thought you said this was a long process?" you managed to say between deep breaths, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Yes, but there's nothing wrong with being prepared, honey," Laura replied with a comforting smile, her hands steady as she and Nat helped you onto the bed.

Natasha gently grasped your hand and locked eyes with you. "Y/N, look at me," she said reassuringly. “You’re okay, and I'm right here with you. Let's take a deep breath together.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow Natahsa's lead. The air came out shakily as it moved around the sharp pain of the contraction.

"Do you remember your Lamaze breathing?" Nat asked, her voice calm and reassuring.

"I think so," you replied, trying to focus on the breathing technique you had practiced during the prenatal classes.

*^~^*

Contractions came and went over the next few hours. You were thankful that childbirth was part of the first aid classes all SHIELD recruits were required to take. Otherwise, the prospect of giving birth in a farmhouse in the middle of Iowa would have been more terrifying than it already was. 

You heard the front door open and the screen shut behind it as footsteps hurriedly approached the bedroom. When you saw Dr. Cho, you just about burst into tears. 

Helen! Oh, thank goodness," you exclaimed just as another contraction began, your face twisted in agony.

"Y/N," Helen responded, rushing to your side and gently pushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "Clint and Laura briefed me. They said that you're handling this wonderfully. Let me take a moment to set up, and then we'll check your dilation progress.”

Okay," you managed to say, catching your breath. "Where's Bruce?"

He's in Kamar-Taj with Wong. Something about ten rings? I'm not entirely sure, but don't worry, both of you," she reassured, meeting your and Natasha’s fatigued and apprehensive gazes. "I have a backup.”

Thor strode into the room, effortlessly carrying a collection of Helen's equipment that seemed as light as a feather in his hands.

"Thor? What are you doing here?" Natasha asked, clearly puzzled.

Thor glanced at your wife, then at you, then at Laura, and then at Helen.

"Hello, everyone," he said shyly. "I was, uh, Helen and I—Dr. Cho. She invited me for Easter, and we were enjoying a nice glass of Asgardian Mead when—"

"When Clint called," Helen finished. "Anyway, he's here to help, right?"

"Of course," Thor replied. "I've never witnessed a human birth before, but I've been present for the births of many Gods and am well-versed in many newborn blessings."

You and Natasha locked eyes, your nervousness quickly replaced with gratitude as you realized the significance of having another close friend by your side during this pivotal moment in your lives.

Natasha expressed her gratitude to Thor, finally breaking the silence. "We're both thankful that you're here," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. 

You nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging the sentiment.

"It's my pleasure, ladies," Thor replied warmly.

“Thor, can you bring the rest of my equipment in from the Quinjet while I check to see how far Y/N is dilated?” Helen asked.

“Sure, and do either of you need anything? He asked.

Some ice chips would be great, you said in a tired voice. “Thank you.”

“Water,” Natasha said.

Shortly after Thor departed, Yelena entered, engaging in small talk as they crossed paths in the hallway. "What's the God of muscles doing here?" she inquired.

"It's a long story," Helen responded.

"I spoke with Melina. She and Alexi are en route and should arrive by morning. At least, I think that's what she said. It was hard to hear her over Alexi's ecstatic screams in the background."

"Okay, Y/N, you've done most of the hard work in my absence. You're just about at 10 centimeters. It’s time to start pushing. You two are going to parents soon," Helen announced with a smile.

“Oh my God,” you said, looking over at Natasha. 

“Hey,” your wife said, running her hand through your hair, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you said.

*^~^*

“Push. Push, just a little more! Come on, push for five seconds. 5…4…” Helen counted down.

Gasping for air, you exclaimed, '3-2-1 oh!!' as you fought to catch your breath.

Thor gently wiped away the sweat from your forehead with a cloth.

“You're doing great, Y/N. The next contraction should be coming in about twenty seconds," Helen encouraged, glancing at the monitor. 

“I can’t,” you cried. “I can’t push anymore, I can’t.”

Natasha reassured you, "Yes, you can, Y/N. You're so close," she reached out and firmly took hold of your hand.

“Oh God, twenty seconds, my ass!” You shouted.

Natasha screamed in pain and fell to her knees beside you as you squeezed her hand. “Fuck, detka!”

"Here, Lady Y/N," Thor said, taking her hand in his, "Give my hand a good squeeze; you won't hurt me. And when you reminisce on this moment, you will remember that a God has faith in you. You can do this!" Thor's voice was solid and reassuring, his eyes filled with genuine belief in your strength.

Your eyes shone with tears as you held Thor's hand tightly, feeling the strength in his grip while Natasha enveloped you, her arm supporting your back.

I can see the baby's head. Are you ready to push one more time, honey?” Helen asked, “Here we go, on three: 1... 2... 3!”

You let out a final scream and then collapsed back onto the pillows, trying to catch your breath. As the room fell silent, the innocent cries of your and Natasha’s baby filled the air.

"It's a boy!" Helen exclaimed with joy.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, who was also crying. It was more emotion than you had ever seen Natasha show before.

Helen held up your son for both of you to admire. His little head was adorned with the beginnings of red hair. 

"He's absolutely perfect," Nat exclaimed with a radiant smile as she affectionately kissed your temple.

Thor carefully cut the umbilical cord, and then Helen gently passed the newborn over to Laura, who began to clean him up. 

Overwhelmed with emotion, you exclaimed, "He's so tiny! Where'd he go?"

Natasha reassured you, "It's okay. They're just wrapping him up," as she wiped away her tears. Concerned for the baby's well-being, you cautioned, "Okay, well, be careful with him. He's really tiny!”

Moments later, Laura tenderly announced, "Here he is," and placed your precious son on your bare chest, swathed in a soft blanket.

"Hi, baby boy," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I know you."

As your voice reached his ears, his little Y/E/C irises opened, revealing a world of innocence and wonder.

At that moment, gazing at your son, you experienced a love so profound it felt as though your heart had been laid bare.

Natasha tenderly kissed his head and softly murmured, “Dobro pozhalovat' v mir, moy malen'kiy mal'chik.” (Welcome to the world, my little boy).

We’ll give you a few minutes," Helen said with a reassuring smile as she closed the door behind her. In the serene stillness that followed, the only sound was the gentle cooing of your precious newborn son.

“I can't believe he's finally here,” you said.

"I know. He’s so beautiful," Natasha said, her gaze fixed on the newborn.

"It looks like he’s going to take after his Mama," you chuckled, running your hand over the delicate red hairs sprouting from his scalp.

"Yes, but look at his eyes—sparkling Y/E/C like yours. Wow," Nat said.

You remarked, "I guess this narrows the names down, then."

Nat sighed in relief, "Thank goodness I don't have to explain to my sister why we didn't choose Yelena."

Looking into your wife's eyes, you asked, "So what do you think?"

*^~^*

A short while later, a gentle knock on the door signaled Helen's arrival as she peeked inside. "Hey, you three. I need to conduct a few routine tests, and there are some eager people outside who can't wait to meet your son."

"Please, come on in, everyone," you welcomed them.

You couldn't hold back the tears as you witnessed the heartfelt expressions on their faces as they laid eyes on your baby boy. It was as if he instantly captivated them, just as you were when you first saw him.

"Oh, my goodness," Laura exclaimed as Clint enveloped Natasha tightly. Tears glistened in his eyes as he held his best friend close.

"He's beautiful, Natasha," Yelena said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Privet, malen'kiy plemyannik," she whispered (hello, my little nephew).

"He's so cute, Y/N! Oh my gosh," Kate exclaimed as your son wrapped his tiny hand around your finger.

"He is lovely," Thor added, his voice filled with warmth. "Strong and brave, like his mothers."

Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel gathered around you, admiring the newborn in your arms.

"Everyone," Natasha began, her hand resting lovingly on your back. "We have someone special we'd like you to meet.”

“This is Nikolai Odison Romanoff," you announced with a proud smile.

"Nikolai! What a beautiful first name," Clint exclaimed, wiping his eyes. "It suits him perfectly."

"Oh, my, Odison," Thor said wide-eyed. "Ladies, this is an honor fit for someone else. I wasn't even supposed to be here, I—" 

"But you were, Thor. You were here when I needed someone the most," you said, looking at him with gratitude. "We'll never forget what you did for us."

The God of Thunder exhaled, visibly touched by your kind words. "I'm truly honored, Y/N. Thank you," he said, kissing your cheek.

Excuse me, ladies," Helen said, "May I borrow him for a moment? We'll be right back.”

Nikolai began to cry at the loss of contact with you, and the sound tugged at both your and Natasha's heartstrings. "It's okay, little one. It's okay," Helen soothed him. 

Then, looking up at your wife, you added, "There is something else we wanted to ask. 

“Clint and Laura, we would be honored if you would be Nikolai’s godparents,” Natasha said.

“Of course!” Clint declared.

“Nothing would make us happier,” Laura added.”

The couple hugged you both in appreciation as Helen returned with Nikolai. 

“You have a healthy little boy on your hands! Born March 31st, 2024 at 7:23pm. He weighs five pounds and eight ounces and measures 16.5 inches long," she said as she gently placed your son in Natasha’s arms. "He's a bit small, but that is because he was impatient and arrived a bit early," Helen explained with a warm smile. "Nothing to worry about.”

Natasha cradled the baby in her arms, swaying gently back and forth as a soft yawn slipped from his tiny lips.

“We’ll spend the night here, but I want to bring Mom and Nikolai back to the compound tomorrow. I want to perform a thorough examination in my lab before sending you all home.” Helen explained.

"Of course, whatever you think is best," you agreed.

Natasha nodded in approval before a sudden realization struck her. "Oh, Mom and Dad! They're on their way here."

"They can join us if you'd like," Helen suggested.

"That would be great," you said. "Right, Nat?"

"Yeah, great," Natasha said, her mind racing as she tried to imagine the chaos of the Quinjet flight home with Alexi and Melina.

Yelena couldn't help but burst into laughter, fully aware of what her sister was thinking, until Kate elbowed her in the ribs.

"We'll leave you all to get some rest," Helen said. "I'll be outside if you need anything, and I'll be back in a little while to help you with breastfeeding him.”

"Thank you, Helen, and all of you, for everything," you said, feeling the exhaustion and emotions of the day overwhelming you as tears began to fall.

After exchanging warm embraces, everyone exited the room, leaving you and Natasha in peaceful solitude with your precious newborn son, savoring the tender moment.

Natasha gently settled Nikolai in Nathaniel's bassinet, a family heirloom lovingly retrieved from storage by Clint and Laura. As your little one drifted into a peaceful slumber, you both couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life, watching his tiny chest rise and fall with each breath. It was a moment you never wanted to forget.

“Rest, detka. I'll take care of Nikolai," Nat offered, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

"I can stay up; it's fine. You should rest," you insisted, determined to take responsibility.

"Y/N, you've just brought new life into the world. You deserve to rest for the rest of your life," Nat chuckled, her eyes filled with affection and concern.

She settled beside you on the bed and enveloped you in a comforting embrace.

"Look at your face," Nat suddenly remarked, her expression softening with genuine admiration.

"I must look a mess," you replied, a tired smile tugging at your lips.

"No, Y/N, you look absolutely beautiful," Nat insisted, her words filled with sincerity. "I've never seen your face more radiant than it is right now.

Natasha's soft lips met yours in a tender kiss, and in that moment, you felt the truth of her words resonate deep within you.

*^~^*

The following day, Laura prepared a delicious breakfast and brought it to you and Natasha in bed. Both of you had barely gotten any sleep with Nikolai waking up every couple of hours. Despite feeling utterly exhausted, you didn't mind one bit. This weariness stemmed from the joy of caring for your precious newborn son on his very first night.

Twenty minutes later, the tranquil moment was interrupted by familiar voices outside. Natasha gently pulled the curtain back to glimpse her parents making their way up the front porch steps.

Yelena strode into the room with her arms folded and a mischievous smile on her lips. "Brace yourselves," she teased, "The grandparents have arrived.”

"Where's my little guy?" Alexi eagerly shouted as he entered the room.

"Shh!" Natasha hushed him with a grin, motioning to Nikolai nestled in her arms. "Oh, look at him!" Alexi whispered in awe. 

"Mom, Dad, this is Nikolai,” Nat said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"He's beautiful, Natalia," Melina murmured.

"May I hold him? I washed my hands," Alexi asked eagerly.

"Of course," you replied, carefully passing the baby to Alexi. The sight of the mighty Red Guardian tenderly cradling your newborn son made you smile.

"Hello, Nikolai. I'm your dedushka," Alexi said affectionately. "You're so adorable; yes, you are."

As he spoke, Nikolai slowly opened his eyes, and you could have sworn you saw your father-in-law's heart swell with love. 

Alexi gently placed the baby in Melina’s arms. Your mother-in-law had always been a complex and enigmatic figure. She was one of the longest-tenured widows, and her resilience made her one of the strongest women in your eyes. As she cradled your newborn son in her arms, a single tear traced its way down her cheek, revealing a depth of emotion and vulnerability that you had never seen before.

Yelena inched toward you and whispered, “He won them over faster than you did.” 

*^~^*

The next morning, Thor joined in to assist with packing while Clint hurried to the store to purchase an infant car seat for Nikolai. You were a family of two when you arrived, and you were leaving a family of three.

After a swift diaper change, Natasha placed your precious bundle of joy in his carrier. "Time to head home, Nik," you said, taking his tiny hand in yours. 

You bid farewell to everyone and securely placed Nikolai's carrier beside you on the Quinjet.

Nat smiled as she prepared the Quinjet for takeoff. Your first Quinjet ride," she said. "You're already an overachiever, moy sladkiy mal'chik" (my sweet little boy).

Your phone suddenly vibrates with a flurry of notifications.

"The team group chat is blowing up, sweetheart," showing Natasha your phone.

Nick Fury: Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son, Nikolai! It's heartwarming to see the Avengers family welcoming the newest member. Everyone at SHIELD looks forward to meeting him and supporting you and Natasha.

Steve Rogers: Hey, Y/N and Nat, huge congratulations! I'm so excited to meet Nikolai, the newest addition to our Avenger family. 🎖️

Wanda Maximoff: Congratulations to you both! All those cliches, those things you hear about having a baby and motherhood—all of them are true. And all of them are the most beautiful things you will ever experience. I’ll drop off some food for you both in the morning. 🥰

Clint Barton: Hey, Y/N! Make sure Nikolai is securely fastened in his infant carrier. I hope he sleeps the whole way back. If he gets fussy, let Nat know to ask FRIDAY to turn on the cabin pressure stabilization. It's a feature I insisted Stark add to the Quinjet after SHIELD found out I had kids. You're welcome. 😏

Laura Barton: I know things didn't go as planned, but I'm grateful we could share in your special day, Y/N. Nikolai is absolutely beautiful! Please let Nat know that I'll give her a call tomorrow. 😊

Tony Stark: Rushman! Y/L/N! Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son. Nikolai will bring you endless joy and fulfillment and become your favorite reason to lose sleep for the rest of your lives. 😉

Pepper Stark: Congratulations! I'm so happy for you and Nat. I can only imagine how incredible it must feel to look into Nikolai's eyes and feel like everything is right in the world. Please don't hesitate to reach out if there's anything I can do to help. Sending lots of love! ❤️

Bruce Banner: I'm truly sorry I couldn't be there; I’m thrilled for you and Natasha. I can't wait to meet Nikolai! 💚

Maria Hill: Congratulations, Y/N and Nat, on the arrival of baby Nikolai Odison! I can't wait to meet the little bundle of joy and see those tiny fingers and toes. The name Nikolai Odison Romanoff is absolutely beautiful. I spoke with Thor this morning, and the honor deeply moved him. 🥹

Thor Odinson: I am incredibly grateful to have been present for the birth of your son, Nikolai Odison Romanoff. Your decision to include me in this momentous occasion is a great honor, and I want to assure you that I will always be there to support and care for all of you. The arrival of Nikolai is a joyous event, and I am committed to being a steadfast presence in his life. ⚡

Peter Parker: Y/N! Congratulations on the arrival of Nikolai! I'm so thrilled for you and Nat. What does he look like? Does he have your hair or Natasha’s? What color are his eyes? I'm already thinking about all the adventures we'll have with him. I'm going to text Nat right now. I can't wait to meet him! 💙

Yelena Belova: Give my little nephew a kiss and hug from me. Also, heads up - Mom and Dad are considering staying with you for eight weeks to help care for Nikolai. Happy Parenting! 😂

Kate Bishop: Yelena is sitting next to me, and she can't stop laughing, so I'm going to assume that everything is going well. Please give Nikolai a kiss and hug from me! 🩵

*^~^*

You and Natasha stood together at the front of the Quinjet, the hum of the engines surrounding you as the aircraft soared safely through the sky. 

“Nikolai is sound asleep. I don't think your parents have taken their eyes off our son since they got here,” turning around to see Melina and Alexi lovingly admiring their grandson. 

Nat lovingly reached for your hand. “Our son,” she repeated with a big smile.

Nat took her place in the pilot's seat and turned off the autopilot as you settled in beside her.

"Come on, Y/N. Let’s go home.”

[thegoldenarcher]

winterhawk kisses

[waltermis]

Too?

*Y/N trying to throw everyone off her scent about the fact that she's married*

Y/N *sigh*: I'm never gonna get married.

Clint: I used to think that too, but now I’m married to my best friend.

Y/N *gasp*: YOU MARRIED NATASHA TOO?!

Clint: NO! Laura!!

Clint: Wait what?!

[literaryavenger]

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do. 

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me. 

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with. 

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

[romanoffshouse]

Wanda: Natasha and Yelena had a fight today. It scares me how many knives were involved.

Clint: There weren't any knives involved.

Wanda: That's what scares me.

[rxmqnova]

Natasha x daughter reader

Reader lives on the helicarrier with her Mommy. After spending the week with her uncle Clint whilst mommy was on a solo mission. Natasha comes home to find her daughter has picked up her uncle's annoying habit of travelling through air vents.

Air vents

Y/N: 7 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Y/N/N? Where are you, you cheeky little monkey?" Natasha calls, looking for her daughter.

Natasha only just arrived back home from her week long mission while her daughter has been with Clint over the week. And right now she really just wants some cuddles from her little girl.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Y/N's little voice is heard from the other room along with her footsteps as she's running to where her mommy is.

"There you are" Natasha sighs in relief, opening her arms for her daughter who sprints into her mother's arms in full speed, causing them to end up on the ground, Y/N on top of Natasha.

Natasha takes it as an opportunity and starts tickling her daughter, causing Y/N to squeal and laugh, trying to get away from her mother's strong hold.

"Mommy, stop" Y/N laughs out, tears from laughter escaping her eyes on which Natasha decides to actually stop.

"I missed you so much, baby" The redhead says softly, pressing a kiss to her daughter's head as she carefully stands up with Y/N wrapped around her like a koala.

"I missed you too, mommy. So much. I drew you lots of pictures, you have to see!" Y/N explains enthusiastically, swinging her legs happily while Natasha's carrying her into her room.

"Oh really? I can't wait to see then" Natasha smiles, a teasing tone in her voice.

"You'll love them, mama. Even uncle Clint helped" Y/N points out, playing with a strand of Natasha's hair.

"Speaking of uncle Clint, were you nice for him?" Natasha asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow at her daughter.

"Mhm. I'm ALWAYS nice, mommy" Y/N nods her head, earning another chuckle from her mother.

"Oh, are you now?" She teases, earning one more nod from her daughter which makes her chuckle. "Alright you, will you bring the pictures while mommy takes a shower?"

Hearing a nod from Y/N, Natasha walks into the bathroom after Y/N runs away. She knows her daughter can cause a lot of trouble without being watched though, so she really tries to take as quick shower as possible.

When she walks out of the bathroom again, she finds Y/N sitting on the bed, several papers surrounding her on which she can't help but chuckle.

"Come, mommy, you have to see!" Y/N grins, patting a spot next to her while waiting for Natasha to join her. "Look!" She grins once again, handing her mother the first drawing.

And after showing Natasha every single picture she drew for her, the little girl gets an idea.

"Let's play hide and seek, mommy!" Y/N grins, looking at Natasha with pleading eyes.

"Honey, I'm really tired, can't we just-"

"Please, mommy! Please, please!" Y/N begs, pulling out her best puppy eyes and knowing well Natasha can't resist them.

"… Fine, just for a little bit though" Natasha sighs, a smile forming on her face when she hears Y/N's cheers.

"'Kay, mommy. I'll go to hide!" Y/N beams happily, already running out of the room before Natasha can even say a word.

"Cheeky little monkey" Natasha chuckles to herself and starts counting to 20 like they always do while playing hide and seek.

What Natasha doesn't know though is that Y/N kinda took over her uncle Clint's habit which is traveling through air vents.

Y/N is such a cheeky little girl and managed to get Clint to show her every single way around the air vents. Turned out Clint can't resist Y/N's puppy eyes either, so he agreed.

Natasha starts looking for her daughter, always making sure to check every single place her daughter could be.

Y/N, on the other hand, uses the air vents every single time she hears her mother's voice or footsteps, always quietly giggling.

Natasha soon becomes desperate. She's a spy, how come she can't find her own child? The thought is stuck in her mind after she searches through every single room.

"Y/N, this is not funny anymore. Where are you?" Natasha calls, worry taking over her. Y/N couldn't just disappear, right?

Luckily for her, she bumps into Clint.

"Haven't you seen Y/N? We're playing hide and seek, but I've been looking for more than 20 minutes and just can't find her" Natasha sighs, hoping Clint will say yes.

"… I think I know where she is" Clint chuckles nervously. "I'll be back in a minute"

Before Natasha can say anything, Clint rushes away. Natasha's quick to follow, her eyes widening when she sees Clint crawl into the air vents.

It doesn't take long until he finds the little troublemaker and as soon Y/N crawls out of the air vents, she sprints to Natasha.

"I won, mommy! I won!" She grins, crashing her small body into Natasha's legs.

"You did, baby, but mommy was so worried about you. You can't do this to me ever again" Natasha sighs, lifting her daughter up and holding her tightly, happy her little one is okay.

"… Clint? How does Y/N know her way around the air vents?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"Well, you know… Did you hear that? I think I heard someone just calling for me. I'm coming!" Clint practically sprints out of the room, he's surely in a lot of trouble and NO ONE wants to get on Natasha's bad side.

"Clint!"

----------------------

Finally managed to get at least one one shot done, getting back into writing is much harder than I thought…

Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Masterlist

[super-marvel-dc]

Natasha, to Clint: I just found out from Y/N today that when Steve died and the service did the 21-gun salute at his funeral, Bucky said, “They should aim at the coffin to be sure.”

Clint: Damn, even when Steve is dead Bucky is mad at him...

Y/N, popping out from the vents: Hello, did you not know what shit Steve did?!

Clint: *Screams*

Y/N: Shut up, you've delt with worse.

Y/N: He literally jumped out of an airplane...

Y/N: WITHOUT A PARACHUTE!

Bucky, from three rooms down: HE DID WHAT?!

Y/N: Oops...

Natasha: He didn't know?

Y/N, and Clint: He didn't know...